#LITERALLY I JUST REMEMBER BEING LIKE. 12 AND STARING AT THE SCREEN UNABLE TO LOOK AWAY FEELING NOTHING BUT ABSOLUTE SHOCK AND TERROR

[violetjedisylveon]

Amnesia Chapter 12 - Interrogation

Bad batch Omega centric au

Summary: The Empire asks Freyu a few questions about her family.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: ⚠nothing too bad, there isn't any excessive violence or death. There is a bit of some creepiness but nothing really bad⚠

A/N: There is the mention of some clone OCs of mine, there are two different posts but here is 1 and here is 2. I highly suggest checking them out a bit before reading but I'll summarize them at the end.

Enjoy!

Bad Batch Amnesia AU Masterpost

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Imperial security was stupid.

Freyu had to wait and watch and explain literally everything she had on her. Half of the confusion was over her portable med kit, they were supposed to be soldiers, how they didn't know what a stem shot was for was beyond her.

Her current irritation was mostly based on her tinnitus acting up without her hearing aid, which was being examined at the moment. Again, these soldiers were idiots, they couldn't put together what a mechanical device in her ear was being used for.

Not quickly enough, the examination was done.

"Are you deaf?" One of the troopers asked as they handed her hearing aid back.

"Hard of hearing." She grunted, putting the aid back in it's slot.

Immediately, the tinnitus noise was cut out to a far more manageable level, she'd forgotten how bad it really was without her hearing aid.

"This way." A different trooper ordered her.

She followed them to a meeting room, the Empire was operating out of a rented space, that had been repurposed into a questioning room. There was a single table in the middle and chairs on either side.

"The vice admiral will be with you shortly." The trooper said.

He shut the door and left her alone in an empty room. She sat, kicking her feet up on the table and pulled out her datapad to make a note of what she had gotten done and what she still needed.

She quickly found herself unable to keep her attention on the task and just staring at the screen zoning out.

That's odd… she bit her lip as she racked her brain for whatever caused this, then her stomach grumbled.

Shit! I didn't eat! She groaned and tipped her head back, rubbing her eyes. She hadn't eaten this morning, it had slipped her mind in her rush to get going, and with that, she'd also forgotten to take her medicine.

"Fuck my life." She groaned.

This, this whatever it was, was going to take ages.

You fucking idiot, can't even remember to fucking eat or take your pills- Freyu jammed her fingers against her side to stop herself before she went spiraling, she already didn't want to be here, she didn't want to explain, that, to someone she'd never see again.

Distraction. Find a distraction. She snatched up her datapad and started doodling.

It felt like literal hours before some on finally came in. She glanced up as the officer came in, head buried in a datapad.

"My sincerest apologies for the delay-" he glanced up for one second then stared at her.

Freyu rolled her eyes and went back to her drawing. The officer was surprised by her appearance, like almost everyone who knew how old she was. She was acutely aware that she didn't look, or naturally sound, old enough.

"Problem?" She prompted, not even glancing at him.

The human took a second to compose himself, he cleared his throat and answered.

"My apologies… you are not what I was expecting."

"I get that a lot." She snorted.

The human sat down across from her and she could see him staring at her from the edge of her vision, she was more concerned with getting the twirl of Boa's tendrils just right. He cleared his throat, she glanced up at him with a frown.

"We are beginning now." He told her.

"Oh." She set her datapad aside.

He gave her kicked up feet a pointed look. Freyu fought the urge to sass the human as she put one leg on the floor and pulled the other against her chest so she could rest against it when this conversation inevitably got boring.

"Can't sit normally, can you?" He said.

"Nope." She grinned.

He muttered some xenophobic comment under his breath as he scanned his datapad. Given his general stiffness attitude and lack of a personality, he was probably from the Core.

"I am Imperial Vice Admiral Rampart, and you are Freyu O'asisk, correct?" He said.

"If I wasn't I wouldn't be here."

Rampart narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Wonder how long he's been on world.

"What did you need to talk about so much?" She asked.

"I just have a few questions about you, your family's history and it's," his eyes widened at something he saw, "relations to certain figures who've recently gained a lot of attention." He finished.

"This won't take long." He said with a politician's smile.

I sure hope not.

"Let's get started, shall we?" He prompted.

She just nodded, already bored out of her mind.

"I'm going to review the basic information in your file, just so we're on the same page."

She nodded again.

"You live near the town of Mlikix in the planet's northern hemisphere. You are a licensed medical practitioner for sentients and non sentients, a toxicologist and and herbalist. Your family has been living on Massanii for the last thousand years or so, and your family has a strong Mandalorian heritage. Correct?" He prompted

"Yep." She gave him a thumbs up and rested her cheek on her knee, wishing she could do something while the human talked at her.

"You are the current head of your family and have been since your mothers died seven years ago. Out of all the siblings you have, only one still lives with you, a younger sister." Rampart glanced up at her.

"That's right, but what's that got to do with anything?" She asked.

The corners of Rampart's mouth twitched up. She immediately got a bad feeling.

"As you may or may not know, the Jedi committed treason at the end of the war and were wiped out in response. Any of them left and those who help them will face Imperial justice." He stated matter of factly.

"But what matters to you is that the Emporer has ordered that an questioning of dead Jedi families, even those who died before or in the early stages of the war, as a means of security." He said.

Freyu blinked.

Her eyes stung slightly.

She lifted her head off her knee and stared at the human, his words slowly being comprehended until it clicked.

He was here to talk about Maatsu.

"You want to talk about my brother?" She asked.

"Yes, Maatsu I believe. He's listed as the oldest of six siblings, and from my understanding, he's quite a bit older than you. What did you know about him?" Rampart leaned forward slightly.

"I know he lived with our mothers until he was about three, he was recruited when a friend of my mom's came by for a visit. I think she said something about Maatsu wanting to go, it's a little fuzzy since I can't exactly ask her." Freyu said, picking at the loose skin around her fingernails.

"Yasti Phin was the Jedi, correct?"

She glanced up in surprise.

"Yeah, how did you-"

"The records I've been provided with regarding your family are quite detailed. Yasti Phin studied and frequently worked with a Pantoran padawan by the name of Requwon Vygolid. Your mother." Rampart said almost smugly, she couldn't quite tell.

"What?"

Rampart raised an eyebrow.

"Did you truly not know?"

Freyu shook her head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, it made some sense, a few odd things about her mother were explained, despite that she was internally reeling from the new information.

She was a Jedi… she was a fucking Jedi…

"I… didn't know she was a Jedi…" Freyu eventually said.

She barely noticed Rampart writing something on his log.

"The records say she left the order before her training was complete after a series of unlisted incidents." Rampart stated.

"That leads me to your brother's own history within the Jedi, starting seven years ago he was repeatedly absent for weeks at a time, can I assume you are the reason why?" He asked.

"Oh, uh yes. After our parents died, and I don't know why, but he came home to take care of me and my sister. Between the Jedi stuff he did and taking care of us, he somehow fit studying navy stuff into everything else. Then the war happened and he died. I don't know how this helps you, he didn't really do much." Freyu shrugged.

"What was your relationship to him like?"

"He's my ori'vod, er, big brother, he was one of the only people I could trust, he taught me what my parents didn't get too." Freyu fiddled with her fingers as she spoke.

"Did he ever tell you about the Jedi Order?"

"Just a whole lot of gossip, some of it was really boring but one of them was about that Obi-Wan guy, that's his name right? There was a rumor that the old Mandalorian duchess had a nephew who looked a lot like him, though Maat didn't think that one was particularly true. He talked a lot about the younglings." She said.

One of her favorite things was hearing Maat rant about the current Temple or senate gossip while he was cooking or showing her how to collect from dangerous plants.

"I see, he truly told you nothing of the Jedi?" Rampart asked.

"Nope, nothing that mattered." She nodded.

Rampart nodded and made a few more notes. With a barely concealed sigh, he moved onto the next topic, which he had very clearly been dreading. She had a few ideas about what that was.

"The sector's traffic records indicate that Jango Fett frequently visited your area of the planet in the years leading up to the war, the visits increased around thirteen years ago. Do you know anything about that?" He asked.

"He came to talk with my parents, I wasn't allowed in the room so I don't know what they were talking about but I know he got a kid from somewhere. I think he was visiting to get parenting advice." Freyu answered.

Please don't ask more, I don't want to explain it. Freyu silently begged.

Rampant sighed heavily.

"We have limited records of their interactions, but for the sake of completeness, I am obligated to ask," Rampart closed his eyes and squirmed in his seat a little.

"What was the relationship between Jango Fett and Lenoka O'asisk?"

Freyu had never held any lasting resentment towards her Buir for anything, but this one subject was the very occasional exception. It was always so awkward to explain.

"How complete of an answer do you need?" She asked.

Rampart glowered at her.

"Ah, all of it." Freyu nodded to herself.

She turned her head away from the officer.

"I know they knew of each other before the civil war, during the war was when they actually met each other, they had a lot to do then, so they got to know each other pretty well… I know that at one point, for a while they were… romantically involved… but it didn't last long and they split up but stayed good friends. He was our ver'gebuir, and they were his kid's ver'gebuir." She rushed the last part.

"Pardon?" Rampart asked.

"Oh, ver'gebuir is almost parent or secondary guardian, it's like a godparent." She explained.

"And your Jedi mother agreed to this?"

"Uh, yes, my mothers trusted each other, even if she had personal issues with him she knew that didn't really matter. He wasn't a threat in her mind." She said.

"Interesting." Rampart muttered.

"Can we stop talking about my parents now?" Freyu requested.

"Yes, I just have a few more questions to ask." Rampart nodded.

"Your brother was known for taking his troops out of action and bringing them here when he, I presume he was visiting you, took his leave, we are wondering if you know anything about them?" He said.

Freyu cocked her head to the side.

"They work for you, why do you need to talk to me?" She asked.

"His former command liaisons, BT-9900 and BT-9901 went missing the day the Jedi plot was discovered, there is some concern that they aided in the plot, have you heard anything from them?"

Freyu blinked at him.

Toqema and Rackus were gone, no one knew where, he hadn't mentioned Ciryc, so were they still around? Toqema was smart, frighteningly smart, and Rackus was always prepared for anything, the two of them would be fine on their own, if they were on their own, but why would they just leave? Did they know something she didn't?

"No… I haven't heard a thing about them… and I doubt I will…" she admitted.

If you didn't need to know, you wouldn't know. That was how Toqema operated, she kept everything close to her chest and hidden. It had gotten her through her hell of a life so far, Freyu wasn't going to jeaprodize it now by talking too much.

Still, she couldn't stop herself from asking.

"What about Ciryc?"

"Who?"

"Uh, they used to be CC-9347-99, I think…" She really hated that number, hated calling the three of them by those numbers, their names had been legally changed.

Rampart looked something up on their datapad.

You do know that their number was changed to a name, right? She wanted to ask.

"CC-9347-99, "Ciryc", resigned after the declaration of the new order, apparently barged in on the Emperor for it. They are currently working as a personal bodyguard to Senator Riyo Chuchi. They don't know where the missing clones are either."

Freyu hid her smirk, of course Ciryc quit the first chance she got, and of course she spent the newfound freedom to stay by Riyo's side. She hadn't really spoken to either of them since the funeral.

It might be good to check in… see how they're doing… it wasn't an unpleasant thought, it actually sounded kind of nice.

Rampart stood.

"Is that it?" Freyu asked.

"Yes, all I needed to know was about the Jedi and the clones. Nothing more." Rampart said.

"So you dragged me away from my work in the middle of baby season to ask me about my dead brother and parents who died years before any of this traitor shit went down and about things that I have no idea of knowing? I haven't talked to them in years! How would I know what they were doing?" Freyu growled.

"It was necessary-"

"No it wasn't, you could've sent me a holo message and gotten the same results without pissing me off! Do you realise I have a job to do?!" She snarled.

"I- I apologise for any inconveniences-" Rampart started.

"Oh save it." Freyu snapped.

She stood up to the barely taller than her human, glaring like he'd spit in her face.

"Is there anything else you need from me or are you going to leave me alone now that I've done your stupid little interview?" She growled.

Rampart swallowed and frantically looked around like someone else was there. Wait, someone else was there.

Another human, pale skinned, dark hair, unsettling blue eyes, stood at the now opened door. She couldn't shake the feeling that she somehow knew him. Behind him was a table with medical equipment on it. She recognized several types of pathogen tests, and a syringe for drawing blood.

"Hello Miss O'asisk." The human spoke calmly, too calmly.

It was creepy.

"Before you go, we need to run a few tests to ensure the health of our staff." He said, gesturing to the equipment behind him.

"The basic file comes with vaccination history, so that won't be necessary." Freyu said, barely holding back a snarl.

She walked around Rampart, who had conveniently blocked her way, and stared the taller human down. He gave her major creep vibes.

"The Empire requires a blood sample be taken." He stated cooly.

She knew exactly what a blood test could be used for, and she wasn't keen on getting caught, especially not now.

"Yeah, no. Taking a blood sample without consent is extremely illegal here, so I'm afraid you're out of luck. I'm perfectly healthy and you already have my records. You don't need any new tests, and I certainly don't consent to them. So move." She made a shooing motion.

The human opened his mouth, but he didn't get a chance to argue, a Massii Guard chose to intervene when the human didn't back down.

"O'asisk is right, doctor, it is illegal to take samples without consent, it is a form of assault here, and assault is heavily punished, especially for offworlders." They stated, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Very well." He said politely.

The corners of his mouth twitched up with a smirk as he stepped aside, she made it past him and out of reach as fast as she could.

"Thanks." She told the guard in their tongue.

"Is the Empire gonna leave me alone now that I've answered all your dumb little questions?" She asked.

"Yes, you've done what we need you to." The human, a doctor apparently, said.

Freyu fought off a grimace.

"You are very creepy. Stay away from me." She said before she could think.

Surprisingly, the doctor laughed.

"I've been told that a lot on this planet." He said.

She did not like the way he looked at her. She quickly turned heel and walked as fast as she could away from the creepy doctor.

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Ciryc, Toqema and Rackus are all clones I made, they are all from early test batches, Ciryc was originally a commando, and they are all legitimately defective. Toqema and Ciryc both have skin issues, piebaldism for both and vitiligo for Toqema. Rackus and Toqema both have weird ears, ADHD and didn't respond properly to the accelerated aging treatment, so they age a lot slower than most clones. Ciryc also has ADHD.

Ciryc and Toqema are also both trans, she/they/xe demigirl Ciryc and she/her Toqema but that's not part of their defects.

There's more but I go into way more detail in the posts I made about them.

Freyu's forgot her meds moment is brought to you by the many times I've forgotten my meds cause they got changed to a one in morning and one 4-5 hours later because of an Adderall shortage cause, I heard this from someone working in the pharmacy when we asked about it so just keep that in mind, but apparently a bunch of adults got adhd diagnosis in the pandemic and the drug administration is worried about it so I get to be screwed, thank you department of food and drug administration of america.

Functioning as a semi normal human person is super hard with only half my dose.

But luckily I'm back in my normal meds after spending roughly a week on unhinged adhd god mode, oh boy is there a difference, I can do shit again.

I hope you all have a good day, whatever that is for you!

VJS Out!

#star wars #the bad batch #Tbb #Bad Batch #bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #Tbb Omega #vice admiral rampart #royce hemlock #dr hemlock #Tbb OC #Star Wars OCs #pantoran oc #mandalorian oc #Freyu O'asisk #tbb au #bad batch au #Bad Batch Amnesia AU #VJS Fics:P #VJS AU:P #VJS OCs:P #VJS

[oflgtfol]

the first time i saw prometheus, it was just randomly on tv one night and i was only vaguely watching it, like only glancing up now and then, but i always managed to glance up right at the most horrifying parts and i think i was like. only 12 or 13 years old and it was like the most horrifying movie i had seen in years. genuinely freaked me out SO badly. just looking up at the screen randomly just to witness some woman with a fucking alien parasite in her stomach and she needs to use a robotic medicine thing to cut it out of her in some fucked up parody of a normal C-section, and then she literally gets like stapled together and is then running around with nothing but staples and pain killers keeping her together and shes still covered in blood and that weird orange surgical stuff and it was just like. holy absolute shit

#THAT ONE SCENE SCARRED ME #and then like a year after THAT i actually started watching it another night but at an earlier point #and lo and behold there were even MORE horrifying scenes #like the fucking. cave worms or whateverthe hell #and then that one scene where the guy's looking in the mirror and he has that tiny worm parasite thingy on his EYE #LIKE WHAAAAAAAT YTHFDSGHN #theres way more scenes that were fucked up i just think my brain's blocking them out #ANYWAY LIKE. I KINDA WANNA WATCH THIS MOVIE PROPERLY FROM BEGINNING TO END NOW LOL #and hopefully it isnt so fucking scarring now that ive seen the worst bits several times #albeit all disjointedly but like. .. i Expect it... #meanwhile the first time i was Not.... like #i did NOT expect to see that lady's stomach being distended by a fuckin alien baby trying to eat her from the inside out OMGGGGGGG #LITERALLY I JUST REMEMBER BEING LIKE. 12 AND STARING AT THE SCREEN UNABLE TO LOOK AWAY FEELING NOTHING BUT ABSOLUTE SHOCK AND TERROR #like i think i just switched the channel to that one bc the channel that was on before was annoying #so i just changed it without checking #only for me to glance up and see THAT 5 minutes later.......... #brot posts #LIKE THE MACHINE TOOK THE ALIEN OUT OF HER AND EVEN THEN ITWAS TRYING TO ATTACK HER #LIKE ITS BAD ENOUGH THAT THING WAS /INSIDE YOU/ AND U HAD TO GET A RANDOM SURGERY FOR IT WITH MINIMAL PREP #NOW ITS GONNA KILL YOU AND YOURE TRAPPED INSIDE THE TUBE THINGY WITH IT LIKE OMGG #THIS WOMAN CANNOT GET A BREAKKKKKKKKKKK

[softyoongiionly]

Moonlight

Just a night at the studio with Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut (18+ only plz) I love yoongi so much omg

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This can be read as a stand alone or as an extension of the FnD series. I am so in love with yoongi it’s insane and, I’ve missed him so much my goodness. I wrote this in like two hours so I really hope you like it ok bye :D

Warnings: explicit smut

“You look good.” You note simply from the pull-out couch in Yoongi’s studio, growing disinterested with the pile of work sitting on the table in front of you

Yoongi looks as though you’ve just shook his hand with a prank buzzer, his body subtly jolting in his desk chair.  

“Me? Why?”

His response makes you laugh as you prop your elbow on the arm of the couch, “You just do. I like watching you work, you look cool.”  

Yoongi is unable to help the new color present on his cheeks nor is able to help the flutter of desire in his gut.  

But all he does his smirk, glancing towards you and then back at his computer screen whilst his long fingers card through his black hair.

“Thanks.” He mutters but there is a renewed sense of light in his eyes as he hits enter on the keyboard.

The sound pulls you towards his fingers, which you have an unnatural obsession with.  

They look graceful settled on the black keys and yet agitated all at the same time.  

They are unsure of exactly where to go, unflexing and flexing against the plastic before Yoongi drags them slowly back to the surface of the desk.  

You’ve been here for hours.

He asked you to accompany him this morning and you eagerly obliged, wanting nothing more than to spend the day with him, even if you weren’t interacting.  

The blue light emanating from your phone lets you know what time it is and you have to admit, you’re a little shocked.

12:07am.

You hadn’t even remembered seeing 9 o’clock, how did time pass so quickly?

As if on cue, you yawn, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to avoid alerting Yoongi.

You’re too late.  

He sees you out of the corner of his eye and immediately takes out one of his headphones, his eyes holding a bit of regret.

“Yah, I’ve kept you here for so long haven’t I?” His voice is tender and warm, seeping in through the fabric of your hoodie and down into your skin, “I should take you home...I’m sorry jagi. I didn’t even realize how late it was.”

“No no-” You cut in, shaking your head, “You don’t have to be sorry at all- you've been working your ass off. I’m just happy you ask me to come, I’ve never gotten to see you work before.”

Yoongi’s heart skips a bit a little at how genuine you sound. He can’t understand why you’d want to just sit here with while he produces but, he’s touched regardless.

“You’ve been working hard too though.” He points out, nodding his head to the mountain of paper on the table, “I don’t want to keep you up all night.”

“I like staying up late.” You insist, crossing your legs and tucking them up on the futon, “Besides,” The tone of your voice lowers a bit as you feel quite shy about what you’re going to say next, “I don’t like sleeping without you...”

Yoongi is almost certain he made out what you said because the grin on his lips is involuntary. However, he decides to mess with you anyway.

“What was that last part?” He asks, brows raised playfully.

He spins slightly in his desk chair with his legs spread out in a way that shouldn’t be attractive.

But it absolutely is.

With a roll of your eyes, you slump against the futon, shoving your hands into your lap, “I said I don’t like sleeping without you.”  

His grin widens, his pretty teeth practically blinding you as he does.

“That shit is cute...” He chuckles more to himself than to you, his teeth securing themselves to his bottom lip, “You wanna stay with me then?”

Yoongi calling you cute makes you want to squeal like a schoolgirl but thankfully, you’re able to refrain.  

With an assured nod, you return his grin, “Yes please.” Your reply is delivered musically which causes him to chuckle again.

He shakes his head, practically exploding with fondness before using his fingers to gesture to the screen in front of him.

“I shouldn’t be too much longer, maybe like an hour or so, then we can go to bed.”

With that, your plans for the remainder of the evening are set in place and you decide that you’re going to put away your work for the night and scroll on your phone.  

You can only work on something for so long before your brain is fried.

Another hour or so passes and you find yourself growing sleepier and sleepier.  

However, your brain quickly finds itself attaching to the only thing in this room that could distract you from the heaviness in your lids:

Yoongi.

He’s dressed head to toe in black: black hair, black sweats, black hoodie and black vans.  

The only thing that stands out in terms of color are the many silver earrings adorning his ears.

The way he hunches over the desk, transfixed on the screen shouldn’t be sexy.

The way he manspreads in the chair shouldn’t be sexy.

The way he chews on the tip of his thumb shouldn’t be sexy.

But it is.  

Because he is.  

You find yourself growing uneasy with the lack of attention.

Not in an emotional way but, in another way entirely.

You can’t help but stare at him and wonder how the hell you got so lucky.  

It would be incredibly easy to stare at him all night, marveling at all of the little things that make him beautiful.

However, he doesn’t allow you to because his heighten sense of awareness has finally caught onto the fact that you’re staring at him.  

Turning towards you, he smirks and shakes his head playfully, “Yah- “ He jerks his chin at you, “What are you looking at?”

Shamelessly, you giggle and prop your chin up on the palm of your hand, “My insanely hot boyfriend...”

He waves you off, wrinkling his face in mock disgust, “Aish, stop all of that.”

“Why don’t you ever let me compliment you?” You protest, your voice heightening slightly, “If I want to say you’re hot, I’m going to say it- whether you like it or not.”

The apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color, his teeth finding purchase on his bottom lip as he forces his eyes to stay put on the screen, “I never said I didn’t like it...”

He smirks at the end of his confession, tapping his index finger against the space bar, letting the beat fill the room for the 1000th time.  

It sounds good so you honestly didn’t mind.

Getting to hear Yoongi’s music as it was being made was a privilege you did not take for granted so, you certainly didn’t mind if you had to hear it 1000 more times.  

A few more moments pass as the two of you settle back comfortable silence. You don’t refrain from stealing more glances of your boyfriend but, you decide to stop pestering him until his ready to call it a night.

Then it’s fair game.

During a stolen glance however, you notice him wincing a bit as he adjusts himself in his chair. Yoongi has a bad back that he frequently sees a chiropractor for but, it doesn’t stop him from hunching over for hours on end anyway.

“Is your back hurting?” You murmur, trying to keep the concern in your voice at a minimum.

He hates when you worry about him and, you expect him to tell you no but instead he brings a hand around his shoulder to rub at the likely tense muscles.  

“Yeah- it’s really sore. I need to get with a posture coach or something because, I’m sure sitting in this chair for hours on end only makes it worse.” He winces again, trying to straighten up in the rickety old desk chair.

You make a mental note of looking into buying him a new chair for Christmas; maybe one of those fancy gamer chairs with all the padding.

“Do you want me to rub it for you?”

Keeping your tone casual is easy enough but it doesn’t stop the excitement from brewing in the pit of your stomach. You and Yoongi often indulge in physical affection (and by often, you mean OFTEN) but it’s been a busy few weeks which has unfortunately lessened the amount of time you were able to spend wrapped up in one another. This has been starting to get to you of course but, the reasonable side of your brain tells you that it’s perfectly normal/healthy to go without sex for a few weeks. However, the less-logical (ie the ridiculously in love) part of your brain tends a signal to the entirety of your nervous system that makes you literally ache for your boyfriend.  

The way he’s been acting this evening is only worsening that ache.  

Besides, you don’t like the fact that he’s hurting so really massaging him would be a win/win scenario.  

A small smirk forms on his lips, as he putters around on his keyboard. He still doesn’t look at you but, the glint in his eyes tells you he likes the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind that - I just need like 15 more minutes.” He murmurs, straightening his back once more, his eyes showing a bit of discomfort.

“You don’t have to stop...” You offer, keeping your voice nice and sweet, “I can just sit behind you while you work.”

He licks his lips, shifting in his chair before finally glancing over at you, the smirk still lingering on his lips, “Is it my birthday or something? Why are you trying to spoil me?”

This makes you roll your eyes, “Because I’m in love with you and I want to make sure you feel good, is that alright? Why are you being so difficult?” You gripe, quite matter of factly.

Yoongi breaks out in a fit of rickety laughter, amused by your annoyance.  

The softie in him wants to love on you 24 hours a day but, the brat in him secretly gets a kick out of riling you up.

Plus, annoying you sometimes comes with an added bonus that fuels the less orthodox side of Yoongi’s desires.

“Come here then-” He says in the midst of his laughter, “My aching back needs you...”

You push yourself off of the futon, grumbling to yourself, “This is why I always say you’re like a cat because, I’m trying to love you and you’re asking me if I permit or something...”

Yoongi laughs again, shaking his head and before you can sit down, he’s turning in his chair and grabbing your hand. Despite you pretending to wiggle your hand out of his grip, he interlocks his fingers with yours and places a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you.”

These words have been spoken a thousand times but it doesn’t stop your soul from ascending to the tippy top of heaven anyway.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of him being soft for you.

“Whatever.” You pout, pretending to jerk your hand away once more which causes him to flash that brilliant gummy smile of his. “Just make your stupid, beautiful music, pretend I’m not even here...”

He kisses his teeth and shakes his head, “That’s literally impossible but I’ll try.”

His words may be sarcastic and subtle but you know very well that they have 100 different meanings.

That’s kind of your favorite thing about him.

It’s the fact that he can say so much whilst using his words sparingly. Yoongi has a way of letting you know how he feels without pouring his heart out. Although, there are plenty of times when he does that too and, you love it all the same. But, he’s the type of person to love in secret and, it’s not because he’s ashamed or emotionally unavailable; it’s because he understands how precious love really is and you’re the only one he wants to be vulnerable with.  

You bite your lip to avoid smiling and as you try to move away, Yoongi jerks your hand towards his body gently, his pretty chestnut eyes widening a bit.

“Say it back.” He insists, his voice softening to a specific tone that seems to rot your resolve from the inside out.  

You can’t tell if he knows what he’s doing or if he is unaware he’s using the same voice he uses when he begs for you but either way: you give him what he wants.

“I love you too.”

This satisfies him beyond belief, his grin returning whilst he tugs you down to his level, his sweet lips awaiting yours.

Despite what he wants to do, Yoongi just pecks at your mouth a few times before releasing your hand.

He knows if he kisses you the way he wants to, it will be game over so, thankfully he manages to control himself.  

“This track is called Moonlight right?” You inquire gently, as you take your seat behind him, doing your best to find the right position that won’t limit his movement.  

He grins to himself, delighting in the fact that you remembered something he’s only told you once.

“Yeah.” He clicks over his keyboard, trying to prepare himself for your touch. He takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering a bit when he feels your palms smooth over his aching back.

He knows it might sound excessive but it really isn’t his fault.

The way you touch him has devasting effects on his ability to think clearly. He knows being in love intensifies things yes but, it’s the way you seem to know his body, the way you seem to treasure him and the way you seem to seek out the areas of his skin that are the most sensitive that drives him up the wall.  

Yoongi has a feeling that you’d be able to touch anyone this way but, he counts every single lucky star in the sky that he’s the one you want to touch.  

“Do you like it so far?” You lower your voice to the precipice of a whisper, not wanting to disturb him too much.

As he readies his reply, you begin gently massaging the parts of his back that you know bother him the most: his shoulder blade, the center of his spine and base of his neck. The close proximity allows you to take in the way your boyfriend smells: like clean laundry and the summer berries. You resist the urge to take a bite out of him as he replies.

“I do but it needs a lot of work still.” He realizes how quick he is to downplay his progress and he amends his response in order to give himself some credit, “I got a lot done today though and I’m excited to see where this track goes.”

His answer makes you happy as it’s not often Yoongi outwardly expresses excitement towards his current projects.  

“Do you like it?” He asks you, keeping his tone casual as he turns down the volume slightly, wanting to hear you clearly.

With a kiss to the back of his neck, you smile, “Honestly? I’m already in love with it. It has such a cool vibe. It’s very old school but also very modern at the same time, the lo-fi elements are sending me. I can’t wait to hear the vocals when you’re done with the lyrics.”

Yoongi grins, his features swimming with pride at your compliments. He is addicted to your praise in normal situations but hearing you compliment what he is most passionate about sends him into another world.

“Thank you.” He mumbles warmly, relaxing further into your touch, “I should be starting on vocals tomorrow I think. I don’t have the second verse done yet, but I think once I have everything recorded, it will give me more inspiration.”

You’re working at the tenderness surrounding his shoulder, not pressing too hard but insuring that your fingers are gently working all of the knots that have formed within his muscles. You wonder if it’s helping him at all but the way he sighs and presses against your hands tells you all you need to know. Before you’re able to continue the conversation, your boyfriend chuckles in front of you, almost in disbelief.

“What?” You prod, smiling at the sound of his laughter.

“Nothing it’s just-” He leans back against his chair fully causing you to remove your hands from him for moment, “if you had told 15 year old me that one day I would be working on my music, in a real studio, while the most beautiful girl in the world rubs my back for me, I would have told you to fuck off and stop messing with me.”

Your smile broadens as you lean forward, draping your arms around the back of the chair and resting them on your boyfriend’s chest. You place a kiss on his temple which makes him smile, his hands coming up to rest on top of yours.

“I wish 15 year old you didn’t have to endure so much but,” You kiss his cheek now, your heart filling with joy as his gums once again make an appearance, “I’m glad you’ve let me prove him wrong.”

He turns slightly, his lips brushing against your whilst he does and rather than say anything, he just places a soft kiss onto your mouth.

Despite the awkward angle, you reciprocate, allowing your lips to melt against his, kissing him slowly but deliberately. He tucks his lips between yours, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, a shaky breath escaping his nose. The hands he placed over yours intertwining messily with your fingers, squeezing softly whilst he cranes his neck to continue kissing you. Freeing one of your hands, you trail your fingers up the side of his throat, eliciting a shiver from your boyfriend as you cup his cheek.

It’s not an ideal angle to start making out but something about his throat and chest being exposed to you, makes it 10 times hotter. The beat of his song is still playing softly in the background until his hand suddenly moves from yours to hit the space bar. He doesn’t stop kissing you all the while, only seeking to deepen the motions between your lips. You allow your fingers to run up the side of his neck again as they tuck themselves into his hair, scratching tenderly at his scalp. Yoongi seems to sigh hopelessly into your mouth, unable to resist how weak you make him.  

You want to feel his tongue but just as you trace yours against the inside of his lips, he pulls away, a bit of shared saliva still connecting the two of you.

“Let’s go to bed...” He whispers shakily and you know very well what he means by that.

Seconds later, your back is pressed against the sheets covering the futon, your boyfriend quickly descending over you, his lips eagerly seeking yours again.  

He resumes his earlier motions with slightly more enthusiasm, sucking and licking into your mouth, his hips pressing down against yours. You can feel how hard he’s gotten, his erection straining painfully against the denim of his jeans. He doesn’t seem to mind though, his focus is on kissing you right now.  

You allow your hands to travel to the hem of his t-shirt, slipping your fingers beneath the material to explore the velvety texture of his skin. Yoongi’s hips and stomach are extremely sensitive, he’s told you before that touching him there is almost immediately going to get him hard. Given the fact that he’s already hard, he has no choice but to twitch around in his jeans while you touch him.  

In order to distract himself from the possibility of cumming in his pants, he pulls away from your lips momentarily to sit back on his knees. He stares down at you with an intensity he only reserves for performing and fucking, which to Yoongi, they are often one in the same. He pulls his t-shirt off hastily, throwing it behind him and revealing the beautiful expanse of his body to you. The sight of him makes you reach up with grabby hands, wanting nothing more than to feel his weight on you again. Instead of coming back down however, he merely smirks and shakes his head.

“Uh uh, it’s your turn...” He murmurs, his voice deep with the heavy arousal weighing on his tongue.  

You pout but otherwise oblige, pulling off the hoodie you’re wearing to reveal the black sports bra you had thrown on before coming to meet him here.  

Its nothing fancy or intentionally erotic but it gets Yoongi going anyway, merely because it’s your body.

He makes a small grunt in the back of his throat as he rushes back with his lips. He begins kissing over the swell of your breasts, biting and sucking as he does, his eyes shutting.

“How are you so fucking beautiful hm? Did they make you in a lab or something?” He accuses in his raspy voice, grinning when he hears you giggle.

“Yes actually they did- I've been meaning to tell you for awhile now but, I wasn’t sure how you’d react...”

He bites down harder on you playfully, sucking the skin between his teeth. The delicious sting causes a sharp intake of breath on your part and the sound makes Yoongi even harder. Licking over the purple mark he made, he pulls back to admire his work. With wet lips and dark eyes he looks up at you, a smirk on his mouth,

“I can see why you like giving me these so much...” He raps, his tongue poking out to lick at his bottom lip, “I want you covered in me now.”

His proclamation makes you sick with lust and you’re quick to pull him back over your completely, capturing his lips in a kiss once more.  

Yoongi is eager to reciprocate, his technique a lot sloppier now as the need to be inside of you slowly over takes him.

With one hand, he finds the button of his jeans and pops it open, sighing in relief as his dick is allowed the room it needs. Your hand is quick to cover his, searching for his swollen length mindlessly, desperate to touch him.

“Can I fuck you?” He whispers, nudging his nose on the tip of yours, “Please?”

You nod, kissing at his lips still, your breath uneven, “Yes please.”

The giggle that leaves your mouth shouldn’t spur him on but it does and after finally riding. both you and him of the rest of your clothes, Yoongi is lining himself at your entrance.  

He pushes inside of you, letting another shaky sigh out of his mouth before covering your body with his once more.  

It’s a slow but powerful fuck, leaving no room for the outside world.  

He kisses your face, your neck, your chest, your breasts and tells you how much he loves you.  

He rubs on your clit when you tell him how close you are, encouraging you to let go.

“Ah there it is- is that good jagi? Is it good? Are you gonna cum for me?” He whispers, his face tensing up with pleasure as you contract around him, “You’re squeezing me so tight, you’re doing so good. Just cum baby, I’ll cum too...I just wanna watch you.”

With choppy breath, you arch your back, your hands clawing at his free arm desperately, clining onto him as your orgasm begins crashing over you.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna cum- fu-fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum...I’m gonna cum, oh god...please don’t stop.” You moan softly and the sweetness in your voice drives Yoongi crazy, his pace against your clit increasing. He stares at you, a small but fucked out smile on his lips,

“Oh I’ll never stop sweetheart, not until you cum those pretty brains out...”

His words send you over the edge, your toes curling against the mattress as you whisper his name once again.  

The sight of you cumming is too much for him and although he normally cums inside of you, your post-orgasm haze has a different plan.

“Cum in my mouth.” You plead, tugging at his hips.

Yoongi swallows thickly, nearly blowing his load right then and there, “Really?”

“Yes.” You urge, tugging his hips again, “Please? I want to taste you. Remember you said you wanted me covered in you- cover me. Cover my face please.”

Yoongi’s brain literally short-circuits as he tries his best to process how fucking hot you’re being, his dick twitching inside of you.

“Anything you want remember baby? I’ll give you anything you want...” He grunts, his black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat as he pulls out of you, both of you pained by the loss of contact. He is quick to scoot up the bed until his soaking dick is positioned near your mouth, “I’m going to cum so fucking hard for you- are you gonna swallow it all?”

You nod, wrapping your hand around the length of him, licking at the slit, tasting the mixture of you and him together.  

“Until my stomach is full of you.” You promise before sucking him into your mouth

Yoongi finally breaks, whimpering for you as he usually does, his body jerking as the pleasure overtakes him,

“Holy fucking shit-” He whimpers again, his eyes rolling back as he gives you rope after rope of his release.

It’s a lot but you don’t care, you want every last drop of him. Your hand coaxes out the rest of his cum, your mind high off the taste of your boyfriend; there really is nothing better than this.

Yoongi tucks his fingers into your hair tenderly, grounding himself but also because he wants to touch you.

“Oh my god look at you ah- that's my fucking girl isn't it? You’re so pretty down there you know that? Made me cum so good.”

His voice is pitchy and fucked out and his praise makes you wet all over again, despite your need for a break.  

Immediately Yoongi leans down, kissing you with everything he has, licking at your mouth as if he wants a taste of himself.  

The kissing lasts for another minute or so before Yoongi lays down beside you, pulling you onto his chest.  

You burrow into him, soothing yourself with his unsteady heartbeat as he holds you.

Yoongi smiles down at you, despite the fact that you aren’t looking at him, taking a moment to thank all of his lucky stars once again.

You place a kiss to his chest before turning to look at him, rubbing a thumb over his reddened cheek, “I love you.”

He kisses your thumb, “I love you too.”  

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[ababybiter]

jungkook x y/n, besties to besties with benefits, a lot of texting, smut, fluff and college life, oh and lets pretend V wasn’t born in the christmas holidays

part 1/??

[00:19am] jungkook: please help me

{00:19am} jungkook: i don’t know what to get tae for his birthday

{00:23am} jungkook: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

{00:25am} y/n: jungkook

{00:25am} y/n: his birthday is literally 5 days away

{00:26am} y/n: why are u like this

Truth be told, you weren't that surprised. Your best friend Jungkook was a novice at putting in effort for his friends birthdays and you were wholeheartedly used to that fact. The stress of finding something for your other best friend’s birthday on Friday was stressful enough for you, let alone the inevitable pleas of Jungkook’s text messages on Sunday evening coming through were enough to send you over the edge.

{00:28am} jungkook: TECHNICALLY it’s 6 days away...

You roll your eyes as you lay on your back, snuggled up under your duvet. You glance at your bedroom door, thinking of your roommate and close friend Nina. As Taehyung’s girlfriend, you wondered what sort of gift she bought for him.

{00:29am} y/n: You know I struggled myself! Have you asked Nina?

{00:29am} jungkook: NO she’ll hate me for leaving it so late D:

{00:29am} jungkook: I’ve been at my computer for ages. mY desperation has led me to WISH.COM

{00:30am} y/n: no she won’t but i get you

{00:30am] y/n: get off wish u idiot

{00:30am} y/n: shall we go shopping on wednesday? I’ll help you find something

You rub your eyes, unable to even pretend to think of gift ideas right now. You turn off your bedside lamp, your eyes straining in the dark as you thank the lords for your 1pm lecture tomorrow. It’s then that you remember Jungkook has an early morning class.

{00:35am} jungkook: YOU’RE THE BEST!!!!

{00:36am} y/n: you should be asleep kook

{00:37am} jungkook: i know i’ll get there

{00:37am} jungkook: can’t sleep rn

{00:37am} y/n: why? gift stress?

{00:38am} jungkook: lol, idk just can’t 

{00:38am} jungkook:

You?

You roll over in the dark, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach.

{00:39am} y/n: I have a late class tomorrow

{00:39am} y/n: YOU however sir do not

{00:39am} y/n: plus you’ve not been getting enough sleep lately, you need to sort out your pattern or you’ll be grumpy for V’s birthday :)

{00:40am} jungkook: i got it covered, just wanted to sort out a gift plan first

{00:40am} y/n: got it covered?

{00:41am} jungkook: I can make myself tired lol, dw <3

{00:42am} y/n: you gonna knock yourself out? LOOOL :(

{00:43am} jungkook: no y/n 

{00:43am} jungkook: 0.o

Oh. Oh.

You clench your thighs together, suddenly in the mood to do that too. 

No, what the fuck, no. That would be weird...touching yourself knowing that your best friend was doing the same. It would be weird...right?

Although it was Jeon Jungkook, you can’t deny that you’ve thought about him, accidentally of course, during your alone times. It was a secret you wouldn’t even admit to yourself let alone him or anyone else. 

It was clearly just the dry spell talking. Your last boyfriend was well over a year ago and Jungkook was a guy. A hot guy. It’s probably normal to fantasise about him.

Except you didn’t fantasise about Tae, or Yoongi, or any of your other male friends. The thought alone sent a different feeling to your stomach, these were your FRIENDS. Practically your brothers.

So why was Jungkook any different?

{00:47am} jungkook: you still there? 

{00:49am} jungkook: don’t pretend like you don’t do it too.

Was this still friendly territory? The full stop in his last text did something to your lower stomach.

Okay, now you’re being weird. You start typing tentatively.

{00:50am} y/n: I mean yeah, who doesn’t?

{00:51am} jungkook: Do you miss sex?

{00:51am} y/n: amongst other things, yes

{00:52am} jungkook: Such as?

Butterflies dance in your stomach as you type your next words, this was brand new territory for you and Jungkook. You wouldn’t even talk about this stuff with Nina...

{00:53am} y/n: I miss being eaten out

Your fingers dance over the screen as you wait for his response. You close and shut the app quickly before reopening it. 

{00:53am} jungkook: mhm

That’s it? Your cheeks redden in the darkness of your room as you shuffle your legs under the covers. 

{00:54am} y/n: I should sleep, it’s getting pretty late for me now

{00:55am} jungkook: okay, yeah sure

You’re about to lock your phone and throw it to the other side of your bed when it buzzes one more time.

{00:57am} jungkook: But are you tired?

{00:59am} y/n: I...am getting there. Why?

{1:00am} jungkook: we could help each other out?

{1:00am} y/n: how?

Jeez, how are you already wet? The excitement of talking to Jungkook like this was too much, clearly. You were 99% sure he was insinuating what you thought he was. But it had been a long time since you sexted, it also wasn’t something you and your ex had done much throughout the relationship.

{1:02am} jungkook: I like talking to you like this. I want to hear what else you like.

{1:02am} jungkook: let’s make each other tired

{1:02am} y/n: jeon!!!! you wanna sext?

{1:02am} jungkook: you made me horny y/n!

{1:03am} y/n: that was alllllll you jk! horny mf

Jungkook reads your message. The absence of the speech bubble appearing makes you stomach twist. Your phone goes dark waiting for it to appear. As much as you reprimanded him for his boyish behaviour, something in you wanted it to continue. But you probably blew it by being so whiney. Fuck. You didn’t know you wanted to sext Jungkook so bad.

And then.

{jungkook: Attachment 1 image}

You hesitate, before sliding open the chat. He’s laying in bed, the phone angled down at this legs in his black sweat pants. His thighs pressed close together in the tight yet stretchy material, his dick protrudes up from under the trousers, casting a dark shadow over his stomach. You know right there and then that this boy’s nudes would look like art.

{1:08am} jungkook: let’s help each other out

{1:08am} jungkook: this is what thinking about you did to me

{1:09am} jungkook: tell me if you want me to stop

You stare at the messages on your phone, fingers hovering over the keys, your instinct to explode your feelings into capital letters and ask him what’s happening. Because that’s how honest you too are...so I guess it’s normal to be this honest too.

You fling the duvet off and swing your legs out of bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you kneel in front of the mirror, not really thinking with your brain right now. You pull off the baggy t-shirt that floats around your torso, leaving you in your underwear. You place a hand over your breasts, hiding your nipples in a seductive fashion, before using your other hand to snap a photo, hiding half of your heated face with the phone.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you press send.

You squeal, throwing your phone face down on bed, hoping you didn’t wake Nina up. The last thing you needed was for her to come bursting in to your room right now.

{1:13am} jungkook: holy shit

{1:13am} jungkook: you’re so hot

{1:13am} jungkook: i’m so hard for you

{1:13am} jungkook: wow

You climb quickly back into bed, his words sending electric waves to your core.

{1:14am} y/n: shall I touch myself?

{1:14am} jungkook: fuk yes

{1:14am} jungkook: i can use this picture right?

{1:14am} y/n: that's why i sent it kook :’)

{1:15am} jungkook: right okay haa good

{1:15am} jungkook

: holy wow

You try not to giggle at his cuteness, when his next message makes you gasp.

{1:16am} jungkook: god i wanna taste you

That was all it took to get your hand to work. More dirty words are exchanged, both of you sweating and misspelling, as you both get yourselves off to each other.

{1:26am} y/n: jungkook i’m gonna cum

{1:27am} jungkook: shit y/n me too

{1:27am} jungkook: fucck

Your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes flutter shut as you imagine Jungkook’s lips on your pussy, his body on top of you, the look on his face as he comes. You wonder if he’s loud in bed. If he’s moaning right now.

{1:30am} y/n: That was so fun.

{1:30am} jungkook: jesus. yes it was

{1:31am} y/n: maybe we can do it in person some time?

{1:37am} jungkook: yeah?

{1:37am} y/n: yeah, i guess i really have missed this stuff

{1:37am} y/n: wanna be friends with benefits?

{1:40am} jungkook: Is that what you want?

{1:40am} y/n: i think it sounds fun, what about you? are you down?

{1:41am} jungkook: mhm yes i’m down :)

Your newly found post orgasm confidence delegated some rules over text to Jungkook, which he easily agreed on. The main one being that should the opportunity arise to be physically imitate with each other, the two of you would be exclusive, and let the other person know if they were interested in being sexual with someone else. To which the arrangement would stop.

And under no circumstances, would it come between your friendship.

The two of you had been best friends for over 2 years now, meeting through Taehyung at college party. You didn’t even think about seeing him face to face after the occurrences of last night and what the ‘vibe’ would be, as Nina might say. In fact, it still hadn’t fully settled in that you had sexted Jungkook last night. As you left your apartment just after 12 to get some lunch before your lecture, it had felt like a hazy hot dream.

{GROUPCHAT: 1 new message}

{12:14am} V: anyone on campus ??? I bought too much food from the cafe. Need to share. Heading to the field if anyone wants to eat with me!

You type with two hands as you walk quickly onto campus.

{12:14am}: y/n: I’m almost at the field!

{12:14am} jungkook: I’m at the field now, just finished my jog

You stare at the message that popped up at the same time as yours. Butterflies fill your stomach again at the thought of seeing Jungkook in the flesh after the filthy wishes that were shared between the two of you less than 12 hours ago.

You look up as you reach the grass. Laying down on the green, propped up on his lower arms is the man is your best friend and new sexting buddy Jeon Jungkook. His fluffy black hair is pushed back with a sweat band that you’re sure belongs to Yoongi. The arms of his long sleeved black sweat shirt is rolled up to his elbows, and your eyes fall to his black jogging bottoms. You’re sure they’re a different pair, but the photo he sent you last night burns in your mind and you feel a familiar warmth down below.

Before you reach him, Taehyung appears, slinging down a grocery bag on the grass to which Jungkook leans forward and peers into, flicking his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“Hey, Y/N!” Tae lifts a hand. “You know you two were the ones I was expecting to accept free food at the speed of light.”

“Hi guys.” You fall to your knees on the soft grass, dropping your bag beside you.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker over you before he meets your gaze. “Hey.” A shy smile ghosts his lips before he opens a packet of Doritos.

“Do you know if Nina got up in time for work?” Tae asks.

“Yeah, she was gone long before me.” You smile, focusing your attention on V.

“So is she not quitting the barista job then?” Jungkook sits up, shoving crisps into his mouth.

“No, she there’s no where else she can work where they’ll let her do the hours she wants.” V explains.

“Yeah, lucky bitch only has classes two days a week.” You scoff. “I should have taken politics.”

“Except one of those days is Friday.” He sighs, pulling out a sandwich and passing it to you. “Guess I’ll be high and dry on my birthday.”

“She’s not coming to your party Friday night?” Jungkook scrunches up the crisp packet noisily.

“Oh yeah she is, but I won’t see her until then, and if I’m not smashed, Nina will be, so...no birthday fuck for me.” He sighs wistfully. “Not one I’d remember anyway.”

Usually this sort of statement from Tae would breeze over you, but your hands become hot and you notice Jungkook swallow and cough. You wonder if he regrets the arrangement you agreed upon last night. You desperately needed to talk about this in person.

“So, um, why do you have so much food?” You open the packet, shoving the bread into your mouth.

“They were doing some deals at the cafe.” V munches. “Oh, to be a student.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stands.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up, enjoy your lunch guys.” He pats you on the head as he goes. “See you Wednesday, Y/N.”

You bristle at the friendly gesture, again something you wouldn’t have previously batted an eye at, but given the nature of your current situation it seemed...unnatural.

“What you doing Wednesday?” Taehyung asks through a mouthful of baguette.

“Oh, uh, just...meeting up.” You stammer, your eyes following Jungkook’s legs as they head towards the path.

“Hmm.” Taehyung smirks, drinking from his water bottle. “Just meeting up, huh.”

“What?” You snap your head towards him.

“You can’t fool me, Y/N.”

Oh god, you couldn’t be talking about this with Tae before you’d even had a chance to talk about it with Jungkook. How did he know anyway? Were the two of you really being that awkward?

“How-...what?” You blush.

“It’s something to do with my birthday isn’t it?” He grins.

You desperately try to hide your expression of relief and replace it with playfulness. You force yourself to roll your eyes. “Brat.”

After a day and a half of classes, you’re glad to have your mind preoccupied with no more awkward run ins with Jungkook, since your classes were held on opposite sides of the campus. Wednesday morning rolls around, and you’re surprised that he texts you first.

{10:54am} jungkook: Heeey my favourite creative gift giver

You blink at his confidence, baring in mind the previous conversation of your ‘benefit’s’ were floating above his latest text.

You walk into the kitchen, a smile on your face as you type out a reply.

{10:55am} y/n: You’re lucky you get me to leave the house on my day off :P

“Morning!” Nina beams at you, shoving fruit into her smoothie maker. You smile back at her, wishing you were as put together as she was. It makes sense she had a bunch of guys fawning for her attention before she and V got together. It’s even cuter knowing that she dodged them all to be with our lovely Taehyung.

{10:56am} jungkook: you can’t resist the kook ;)

Your bite on your fingernails, staring bewildered at the boy texting you. It felt like someone else was using Jungkook’s phone, his flirtation over text confusing you to no end, whilst his shy demeanour in person suggested he had a split personality. And still, how this was all wrapped up in your best friend of over 2 years you’ll never be able to believe it.

Still, ignoring your nerves, you were looking forward to seeing him properly. To shake off this high school cyber flirt situation.

“Who’s the guy?” Nina slams her hands down on the counter separating the two of you.

“What?” You jump.

“Who’s the guy that’s got you blushing and smiling at your phone like a love sick puppy?” Nina’s eyes sparkle.

You sigh. Since dating Taehyung, Nina had become more interested in your love life, constantly wanting you on the same level as her. She’d also become much more intuitive, to your dismay.

But this was Nina, and you couldn’t hide anything from her. Plus, you needed her deep and thoughtful opinions.

“Wait, so, you haven’t even SPOKEN about it yet?” Nina looks gobsmacked as she keeps missing her mouth with her smoothie straw.

“No! It happened on Sunday night, and we’ve both had classes.” You glance down at your phone, the latest message from Jungkook on the screen, saying he’ll meet you outside your apartment at 12:30.

“Damn...you and jungkook...who’d have thought.” Nina taps her glass.

“He’s seen my boobs Nina!” You exclaim, shoving a left over banana from Nina’s smoothie making into your mouth.

“I bet he’d love to see that.” Nina makes a square with both her thumbs and forefingers, capturing the erotic display in front of her.

“God, you’re spending too much time with V.” You roll your eyes, chomping loudly.

“And you’re spending too much time with Jungkook!” Nina points. “Close your mouth!”

You pout chewing quietly, as you pick up your phone.

“Shit! Nina, how long have we been sitting here, I have to get ready.”

“Wow!” Nina laughs as you leap away from the counter to your bedroom. “Anyone would think you’re going on a date!”

She ducks, missing the banana skin as it hurls over her head.

Nina’s words get to you. Why did you care what you looked like? It’s not like you’ve never hung out with your best friend before. No. You knew why. It’s because it wasn’t just Nina’s words that got to you.

‘You’re so hot.’

You hadn’t even thought if Jungkook had ever found you attractive or not. It was a low grade compliment that you so guilty enjoyed. You wonder if he found you hot every day, when you ate together, played video games together, when you attended the same parties did he ever look at you in your short skirts and think...

“Hey, Y/N.”

Your weird and wild thoughts are cut short by the man himself. Jungkook approaches you as you lean against the wall of your accommodation building. He stops in front of you, his eyes scanning your previously distracted face. Did he always stand this close?

“Ready to go?”

Together you drive the short journey to the mall. You discuss gift ideas as Jungkook watches the road, whilst you try not to watch his hands.

He parks the car in the underground parking lot and unbuckles his belt quickly. You sigh. Unlike him, YOU can’t go the whole day without talking about IT.

“Jungkook.” You start, your voice dropping an octave.

He freezes like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Y/N.”

“Do you still...about the other night, um...” You mentally kick yourself, wishing you’d prepared what you were going to say before you said it. “I had fun...is what I’m trying to say.”

“So did I.” He smiles. “A lot of fun.”

“Good. Me too. Are you still...down?” You meet his gaze, wishing you weren't having this conversation at such a close proximity.

“Yeah.” He catches his lip for a moment in between his teeth and you swear you almost stop breathing. He glances over your face. “Sorry, down to...?”

You smack his arm lightly. “You know...down to get down.” You wiggle your eyebrows before regretting it instantly. “Ahem, down to be friends with benefits.”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening. “Is that what you want?”

Why does he keep asking that? Of course you want it! You wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.

“Yeah.” You tell him. “I don’t wanna be one of those crazy uptight people that need to get laid.”

He breathes air out of his nose. “We wouldn’t want that would we?” He smirks, leaning closer to you until his breath is fanning your lips. “I think we know our first order of business.”

“Mhm?” You mumble, trying to still calm your breathing as you stare at his wet lips that he just licked, purposefully. His hand slides around to your back.

Suddenly there’s a click as he undoes your seatbelt.

“Find a birthday present for Taehyung!” He pulls away and opens his car door.

You let out a breath. Jeon Jungkook.

Shopping was taking longer than expected. It was hard to find something that didn’t scream ‘happy birthday, I just bought this from the mall 2 days ago!’. Jungkook wasn’t making it any easier, he was more interested embracing the role of the best friend with benefits.

“Hey, wanna take a look in here?” He throws an arm around you, nudging you towards the lingerie store.

“Jungkook I’m here to help you find a present for Taehyung. Have you forgotten that I’ve already got something to give him?”

“Okay okay, I’m just saying. I’d definitely want to see you in that.” He points to a black lace plunge bodysuit worn by mannequin. 

“Mhm, yeah?” You lower your voice, drawing his attention back to you. “Well, you said first order of business was to find a birthday present for Tae, so that’s what we’re doing right now.”

He smirks down at you. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

“I have an idea.” You tug on his hand a few stores down. “You should get him a whole new outfit. He’s always telling you how much he loves your style!”

“Yeah, that would be cool.” He smiles. “See, this is why I needed your help! You’re good with this stuff!”

“Come on!”

Excitedly, the two of you begin picking out clothes you both like and that you think V will love. Eventually you come up with a handful of shirts, trousers, jackets and shoes.

“Okay, now we gotta put them into outfits and choose which one we like the best.” Jungkook dumps the clothes on a seating area, the mall is quiet today. Most people are at work or college on a weekday, leaving the seating areas open to have clothes dumped upon.

“Kook, you can’t choose like this. You need to try them on. You guys are like the same size.”

“Ah, really?” He groans. “I’m too hungry for this.”

“We’ll get food after this.” You pick up the clothes and shove them into his chest. “Go.” You nod to the changing rooms.

He carries the items to the changing rooms, you follow along behind, letting your hand feel the mens clothes hung up on the racks as you pass.

“Hey, uh, got a few items here.” Jungkook shrugs to the college aged boy behind the changing room desk.

The guy barely looks up from his phone as he nods Jungkook down the hallway to the changing rooms. You stay behind, pulling out your phone.

{13:23pm} nina bean!: Hey?! How’s it going ;) x

{13:35pm} y/n: Fine lol, I don’t know what you think is happening at the MALL x

You wait for her reply, your eyes falling to the ground by the desk, where a crumpled up t-shirt lies. You stoop forward to pick it up, and it’s only your favourite choice out of all the options. There’s no way he’s not trying this one on. The man behind the counter pays no attention as you start down the hallway, the t-shirt in your grasp.

“Jungkook.” You whisper.

Finally, he answers you from the end of the corridor. “Yeah?”

You pull open the curtain and gasp.

“Jesus, Y/N!” Jungkook scrambles to pull any pair of trousers over his bare legs as he stands in his boxers. 

“You said yeah!” You step inside the changing cubicle with him, for a reason you can’t think of, closing the curtain behind you from the inside.

“Yeah doesn’t mean ‘whip open the curtain for anyone to see!’” He sits down on the small bench.

“Oh chill out, there’s literally no one here today.” You hold up the shirt, standing in front of him. “You dropped this.”

He takes the shirt, opening it up to inspect it with large curiosity. His cheeks crimson. You chuckle quietly. “You know, you’ll have to get used to me seeing you naked right?”

His eyebrows flick upwards as he hides a shy smile. “Right.”

It seems awkward Jungkook has returned. Unbeknownst to you, the idea of being intimate with you already sent his heart rate through the roof. Realising the idea goes beyond hypothetical advances and flirtatious jokes was enough give Jungkook a heart attack.

It was only then that the thought occurred to you, maybe you had wanted this kind of relationship with him for a long time, and maybe he had too.

As you ponder this revelation, your eyes drop to a new piece of art on his shoulder. 

“Hey.” Your fingers reach out before you can stop them, brushing the inked skin. “You got a new tattoo?”

He shivers under your touch, staring up at you, as if he doesn’t know what you’ll do next. His fingers reach out, before he can stop them, and pull you closer by your jean belt hoop. “Like it?”

“Love it.” You whisper, drawing around the outline with your nail. He hisses.

You clear your throat and back off. “I’ll be outside when you’re done.”

Jungkook stands up, keeping the close proximity as he backs you into the wall of the cubicle. “Promise me something, Y/N.” He murmurs, tracing your jawline with his finger.

“What, kook?”

“I’ll always have you. No matter what.”

“Of course cringe ball.” You whisper.

He smiles then, relieving some of the tension in the air. His smile is infectious, you giggle back at him. When he looks at your lips, his smile fades, and your heart pounds in your ears. You can hear his shaky breath as he leans in, so slowly that it’s almost unnoticeable. Painfully slow. He stops, a hair away from your lips as they part.

“Kook-” You murmur.

At the sound of his nickname he wastes no more time. Bringing his lips to yours eagerly, one hand caressing your jaw whilst other rests above your hip. The kiss is passionate, his thigh pokes in between yours in an attempt to get as close to you as possible. You grant access to his tongue as it shyly asks for permission against your teeth. The feeling of your tongue against his seems to spur him on. He whimpers into your mouth, pressing his crotch against yours. You catch your breath as his mouth leaves yours, only to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “Kook...” You moan softly as he moves your top strap and sucks on your collarbone.

“Mmm?” He moves back to your mouth, kissing you deeply.

“We have to...choose...an outfit...” You breath in between kisses.

“Mmm, I know.” He pulls away from your lips, touching them with his finger. Then he steps back and grabs an outfit, including the t-shirt you chose. “I’ve chosen.”

“Did you try them on?”

“All except this.” He pulls the shirt over his head and looks in the mirror. “It’s fine. It’ll fit.” He pulls it back off and smirks when he catches you staring. He leans forward and kisses you on the nose. “Let’s go eat.”

You pick up the discarded clothes to return and he starts to help you. “That was hot.” He throws a smile in your direction.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a kink for public places I didn’t know about?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I guess you’ll find out all about my kinks.” He winks, pulling open the curtain. 

As you both leave the store with outfit for Taehyung, you check your phone.

{13:40pm} nina bean!: You tell me ;) x

Something tells you, you will.

After a full day of classes on Thursday, you and Nina meet and walk home together. She’s completely invested in your friendly sexual adventures, but decides to broach a different type of question.

“Did you always know you wanted Jungkook?”

“I didn’t always want him.” You correct her. “I always knew he was cute...well, more than cute, but who didn't? He’s been a great friend to me since we met...we’re just helping each other out.”

“Y/N, you just made out with your best friend, who was TOPLESS, let’s not forget. IN A CHANGING ROOM STALL. You’re telling me there was no spark? No passion? No...”

“I didn’t say that.” You hide a smirk as Nina squeals beside you, tugging your arm. 

“Oh yes! I can’t wait till you start dating. I can FINALLY double date with my bestie. There’s so many couples date ideas I want to try out with the four of us-”

“Who said I want to be in a couple?!” You gesture wildly. 

“Well what DO you say, Y/N? You just admitted that there was a spark.”

“There can be a spark in my situation.” You protest. “It passionate because it’s fun. I think he’s hot, he thinks I’m hot. We’re already comfortable with each other. It’s the perfect match.”

“Perfect match.” Nina pokes you.

“Nina! Are you not familiar with the term ‘FRIENDS with benefits’?”

“Yes, I am familiar.” Nina snaps. “Very familiar, actually.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. It was a rare occurrence that you found something out about Nina that you didn’t already know.

“Oh, indeed.” She nods. “It was a disaster. I fell for him stupidly fast, and then he told me he was getting back with his ex and that was that. He’d been thinking of HER the entire time. Point is, it’s better to stick to the generic way of dating in this day and age, so you KNOW where his head is at. Trust me.”

“Yeah well, Jungkook is my best friend, he’s not thinking of anyone.” You tell her. 

“I know!” She nods. “Sorry. I don’t want to worry you. I just want you to be happy, like I am.”

“I am perfectly happy with my current relationship with Jungkook.” You reassure her.

She smiles, her eyes lighting up once the two of you reach your accommodation. “V!” She exclaims.

“Hey!” V holds a small bunch of flowers as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend. 

“What’s this? I thought I wasn’t seeing you until your party.” Nina blinks up at him.

“Yeah, about that. I wanted an afternoon with my girl before we get shit faced drunk with our friends. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“V, you’re so cute!” Nina gasps. “I’m suppose to be spoiling you this week!”

“Hey, Y/N!” V ruffles your hair. “Mind if I steal your roommate?”

“Not at all.” You laugh.

“Oh, V, I’m not exactly ready for a dinner date.” Nina cups her own cheeks self consciously.

“You’re gorgeous.” He taps her nose. “Don’t be silly.”

Nina turns to you with the flowers in her grasp. “Can you put these in some water for me?”

“Sure.” You smile.

You watch them skip away, thoughts swirling. You couldn’t imagine Jungkook making a gesture like that. To another girl, yes, but to you? 

Who knows what you wanted anymore.

After dropping your bag on your bedroom floor, you decide to take a long hot shower. You step out to see a flash on your phone. 4 memes from Jungkook.

{16:44} y/n: thanks for the meme spam :’)

{16:45} jungkook: I should probably stop sitting in my towel scrolling through memes and get dressed lol I'm so relatable

{16:45} y/n: LMAO I’M DOING THE SAME THING RN

{16:45} jungkook: proof

Here comes that excitement in your stomach again, who cares if you weren’t in a proper relationship? Who cares if Jungkook’s feelings weren’t as intense as yours? Your relationship now was exhilarating. 

You let the towel drop from your body and glance at the mirror, your figure blurry with steam from the glass, but there’s enough to see what he wants to see, whilst leaving more to the imagination.

Snap.

You send the photo and put on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, climbing into bed. The exhaustion of a day full of absorbing information comes crashing down.

{16:48} jungkook: fuck that’s sexy

{16:48} jungkook: wanna see me?

{16:48} y/n: yes please

{jungkook: Attachment 1 image}

You were right. This boy knows how to take nudes. He holds his dick in one hand, the camera settled into selfie mode to show his v line and tense stomach. You gasp quietly at how big he is. He sits on the side of the bath, his towel discarded beside him.

You move your panties aside and start rubbing in slow circles at the sight of him.

{16:50} y/n: i’m touching myself

{16:50} y/n: wow you’re so hard already

{16:50} jungkook: that’s what you do to me baby

{16:51} y/n: i want to send you something else

{16:51} jungkook: ?

You video yourself, sliding your finger up and down your clit, drawing the slick up to your stomach. You send it to him, giddy as a school girl. 

{16:52} jungkook: fuck

{16:52} jungkook: stop y/n

You feel your face heat up at his request. Was it too much? You look down at your pussy self consciously.

{16:53} jungkook: Can I come over?

You say yes.

Jungkook’s accommodation is a ten to fifteen walk away. You change into a thin vest top and sexier gym shorts despite the cold weather. You stand in front of the mirror, overthinking as per usual. Was it too try hard? He’s seen you in what you normally wear to chill and snack in after a day of classes, this was clearly for him. 

But you kind of liked that.

-

hi!!!! this is my first time writing in about 5 years o.O thanks for reading!!! i’m weak for best friend jungkook imagines so I thought i’d try and make one. LEMME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART 2. 

<3 

#jungkook imagine #BTS imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook reaction #BTS reaction #BTS drabble #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook fwb #jungkook best friend au #jungkook au #bts au #jungkook #jeon jungkook

[ren-c-leyn]

Farewell, Father...

Another fusion short story, and another sci-fi one, so this is again, a bit out of my norm. 

 This one is made up of this prompt by @p-r-o-m-p-t-s, this prompt by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor, this prompt by @humdrummoloch, this prompt by @unpromptly, these 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12 prompts by @thependragonwritersguild, and this prompt by @givethispromptatry.

 There is death mentioned in passing, as well as mentions of a war/conflict in passing as well. It is a bittersweet/angsty piece, but there is no gore or violence in it.

 I had only been visited this planet twice since we left, and both times were for my father’s sake. Well, my adoptive father.

 I don’t remember much about the first time, since I had been a little kid. Little flashes come to me from time to time. Ribbons, faces, small snippets of conversation. It seemed like a big deal, but that likely has something to do with the award for his service during the war and his role in the dealings that ended it.

 Something I do remember vividly was the way there, though. It had been a strange flight through the stars, and in those short days from our little dwarf planet to the big, shiny pink one, I had seen more emotion on his face than I believe I had ever seen before or seen. Unease, sorrow, regret, excitement, fear, anger, so many things people believed his people were incapable of feeling.

 Was it the third or the fourth day I finally asked? I don’t rightly remember anymore. But at one point, child me tugged on the synthetic fabric of his sleeve, peering up at his pale, grey face and past glowing green lines into bright yellow eyes. Eyes that were filled to the brim with so many things I do not believe I’ll ever fully understand....

 “Are you alright?”

 “The short answer is no, but if you’re willing to listen to the long answer, I’d be more than happy to explain.”

 “I’ll listen,” I said.

 There was a small pull on his lips, a smile, and then it disappeared into it’s typical blankness as his eyes turned to the viewer. Slowly, he zoomed in the holo screen to show the pink planet in all it’s glory. A moment of silence passed as I stared, mesmerized by the swirling clouds and glow of the atmosphere. 

 “I have a complicated relationship with this planet,” he began in his smooth, detached, and chronically bored-sounding voice, leaning back in the pilot’s chair. “It is... the place we were both born. Our home planet, or some would say. But it was never much of a home for me, and, unfortunately, not for you either. Many, many terrible things happened beneath those clouds, my star, and many people, both good and bad, lost their lives there. People like my... siblings? Yes, I believe that is the term. My siblings, as well as your birth parents, they were all lost to that pink planet.”

 I looked back up at him, my young mind struggling to understand.

 “So it’s a bad planet?”

 He patted my head, eyes still transfixed on the image before us.

 “I... I do not know how to answer that question. It can seem like it when all that’s left are bad memories.” Father looked down at me and smiled again. “But I do not believe it is all bad. After all, it is the place we were born, and you are surely a good thing.”

 Staring at the same holo-projection of the very same pink planet all these years later from the same seat he had sat in made the memory sting all that much more. Over time, I came to understand more and more of the implications and events that were tied to that small conversation we had that day. Even now, I know I do not have the entire grim story of my father’s life, nor would I ever.

 I found myself to be the center of attention in the spaceport. Old comrades of father’s, reporters, and the like wasted no time in swarming me. After all, today was a historic day.

 If father wasn’t in the history books already, he was about to be. After all, he was the first android to be granted a funeral. Not just any funeral, either, but a hero’s send off.

 We unloaded the casket I had chosen from the cargo hold, and began the trip to the cemetery dedicated to the soldiers who fell during the revolution. It took a lot longer than I would have preferred to arrive. Trapped in a hover vehicle with my father’s body literally right behind me left me too much time to reflect on things. Too much silence to deflect the memories of the end....

 It had been a sudden change. He had been his normal self, untouched by time, and then... he came home one day, glowing.

 “You’re glittering.”

 “I don’t want to talk about it, not right now.” He pulled me into a hug and just held me for a while. When he did break the silence, it was with a quiet voice. “Remember, my star, I’ll never leave you. Even when you seem alone, I will be there. Please remember. Please do not forget.”

 I had never been so confused in my life, but I nodded all the same.

 “I won’t forget.”

 Then, his condition got worse suddenly. Glitches and errors and breakdowns. I brought him to a hospital, but not many are equipped to deal with android patients yet. Frustrated, I brought him to a mechanic instead, and he told me that some of the bio-mechanical parts were failing. They could be replaced, but it wouldn’t be my father anymore. So, the mechanic and I put it to him to choose, and he chose.

 I remember sitting next to his bedside back home, hands clasped together as I stared at my knees.

 “I... I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I choked out, feeling like I had failed him somehow. 

 Even now, I feel like I failed. Like maybe there was something more that might have been done. But he patted my head.

 “There is nothing you can do. This was going to happen eventually.”

 “But I... I feel like I failed. And I, I didn’t want to fail you.” And I had broke down crying at that point, frustrated, scared, not ready to let go. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

 He wiped the tears away.

 “You’ll never be a burden to me. No matter how little time is left or how big a mess you make.” 

 “But....”

 He cut me off with a soft shush.

 “How much of life is wasted hating who we are? Blaming ourselves for things out of our control and choices we made with the limited information we had at the time?”

 I stared at him, not sure how to answer, or even if he wanted an answer. He smiled at me. Not a very good one by most races’ standards, but it was downright stunning for him.

 “I don’t want you to waste your life on such things, my star. You make me proud by choosing what makes you happy. So long as you are happy, that is what matters to me.” The smile faded. “And I know these are not happy times now, and neither will be the ones directly after my... passing, but never blame yourself for them, and please keep an eye out for the good times that will come for you again.”

 I nodded, unable to get a single word out from behind the lump in my throat.

 And that lump had returned with a vengeance as I stepped out of the hover vehicle into the gloomy fog that had gathered and watched them unload the casket. Hundreds of people looked on, as well as anyone could, as full services were done in honor of my father, an android whom probably wouldn’t have cared at all for the flowery speeches and high praise being shoveled onto his name. But one of them caught my full attention.

 An android stepped up to the platform. Even in this weather, her form stood out. She had bright, almost neon, red hair, glowing orange lines, and deep blue eyes that glowed with the same energy father’s used to. Slowly, she took the voice amplifier and faced the onlookers. After so many years with father, I knew what the subtle creases on her face meant, distress and sadness.

 She spoke with a more mechanical voice than father, her speech patterns slow and halting, and I doubted the emotional overload was helping her anymore than it helped anyone else speak in coherent sentences.

 “Heroes of legend are not the strongest or the wisest of us. They are those who had the selflessness and courage to do what was right. And he was, most certainly, one of those people, even if not all would call him a person.

 There... are many lessons my friend taught me while he was alive. Nothing is inevitable. Keep fighting, is one he would say repeatedly when we were trapped in... what were hopeless situations. Even went people told him awful things, like that he was just a mirror. Reflecting the world back because there’s nothing inside of him, he did not quit. He held fast to his path, to his beliefs, to us. And, he was right. There were days when, I knew I would die, and I did not because he did not allow us to give up. And, not only did I live, but we changed this planet for the better.”

 She paused for a long moment, eyeing the crowd for a long time before clearing her throat and continuing.

 “But my dear friend suffered greatly to make these things happen, we all did. Time doesn’t ruin people. People ruin other people, and perhaps that is why we find people like my friend so amazing. Because they go out of their way to not only avoid ruining other people, but strive to help them. And I... I am glad that my friend’s efforts did not go in vain. I am glad that none of our comrades and lost friends’ efforts went in vain. The blood and the oil spilled... can never be replaced, but we can make it mean something more than senseless violence as we move forward. That is all.”

 She put it down, and disappeared into the crowd. I found myself mulling over her words for long after the crowds started to part and leave. After many well-wishes and condolences, I made my way to father’s grave, preparing my final good-bye, only to see the red-haired android already standing there. She was talking, but I could only make out the last sentence of it as I approached.

 “I never understood why you did that.”

 “Why he did what?”

 She looked up and offered me an android smile.

 “Well... why he decided to raise you off planet, instead of staying and working with me to fix the mess the war made of the place. He would have had a good-position in office, a home, a purpose... almost everything we androids seek from the time we are constructed.”

 “Ah, well... I can answer that one for you since I asked him a very similar question.”

 Her eyes widened with hope as she stepped towards me.

 “What did he say?”

 “He told me that no amount of power will make you happy. You’ll always want more, and it will never love you back. And that all the real treasures of this world are so small and fragile that they would get lost in the face of power. So, he decided to take his small treasures and find a good place for them to grow.”

 She nodded slowly.

 “Yes, yes... that does sound like him.”

 I smiled at her.

 “Sounds like you knew him well.”

 “Very well,” she replied with a nod. “He was my very first friend, after all, manufactured in the same factory.”

 “Really? Then can you tell me more stories about what he was like before?”

 She nodded. 

 “Yes, but I do have to return to the office shortly.”

 “Then walk and talk?”

 She gave a nod.

 “Walk and talk.”

 And so we did. We walked side by side as she told me about some of the memories she had at father’s side, including the day they found me, a tiny infant, laying among the rubble left by the war.

 “He felt guilty about the loss of your family, and thought the best reconciliation he could offer was to give you a new family.... Unfortunately, your adoptive aunts and uncles, the other members of his line, we all lost during the war as well, so he was the only one left.”

 A heavy silence floated between us before she spoke again.

 “I am sorry you had to loss him as well. He did not wish for you to loss more family. I am sure he would have stayed by your side until he turned to rust.”

 I smiled weakly at her.

 “He said he would never leave me. He kept his promise.”

 She stared at me, the clearest confusion on her face as we stopped at a cross section.

 “I... Well, I hope so. This is where we will need to part ways, little star. Please be careful on your way back home.”

 I gave a nod.

 “I will be.”

 The red glow of the traffic light in the fog silhouetted her as she stepped into the dark space between the buildings.

 I returned to the ship and sunk into the pilot’s chair, father’s seat, and reached into my pocket, fingering the data stick that the mechanic had given me after father passed: his memory and personality data files.

 Remember, my star, I’ll never leave you. Even when you seem alone, I will be there. Please remember. Please do not forget.

 “I won’t,” I mumbled, tears rolling down my cheeks before I powered up the engines.

#short story #sci-fi #fiction #my writing #original story #writeblr #a story by Ren #angst

[odderancyart]

Matrimony

@pentollsinwhynot Bingo-requested Shotgun Wedding with Blackcherry!

Warnings: Skelepregnancy, briefest mention of abortion

Word count: 3371

A sudden guitar riff cut through his dreams, and Red’s soul jumped up in his throat as he sat straight up, the bed creaking beneath him. One of his eyes blazed red in the darkness of the room. Then he caught sight of the phone vibrating on his nightstand and he exhaled slowly, lifting up an arm to rub over his eyes. He yawned, glancing at his digital clock. 07:12. Who the fuck would be calling at this time of day? The sun had yet to rise.

The light of the screen cut in his eyes, and he narrowed them to protect himself as he read the name on the screen. Razz. Who- He blinked. Oh, right. They’d met a party a month ago and had sex afterwards. Apparently, they’d exchanged numbers, despite him not remembering they did. His heat throbbed from exhaustion as he swiped the green button, placing the phone against his ear before falling back down onto the soft pillows with a groan. “Yeah?”

“Red?” The voice was quiet, shaky. He frowned. Scared? Maybe. “It’s Razz.”

“Yeah, ‘s Red,” he confirmed. He yawned again, feeling his eyelids drop. Fuck, he shouldn’t have been up so late yesterday, but Sans had roped him into this new game he’d found. And goddamn if it hadn’t been fun. Worth it. “What can be important enough ta call before sun’s even risen?”

“I-” Razz seemed to hesitate, and he heard him take a deep breath. Then it all spilled out in rapid succession. “I’m pregnant and it’s ours. The time fits and I haven’t been with anyone else so it’s got to be and-“

“What?” Once again, he abruptly sat up. His soul drummed in his ears as he almost dropped the phone. Suddenly, all sleepiness was gone. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he blindly crossed the room to flip on the lights. For a moment, everything was white before his eyes got used to it and the bed in the corner of his room appeared, as well as the writing desk with the multiple computer screens, and the electric guitar hanging on the wall. Red leaned heavily against the wall. “What do ya mean yer pregnant. With our child.”

“I mean I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.” Some annoyance mixed with the panic in Razz’s voice. “There’s no questioning it.”

“Fuck.” For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Swallowing, he sank down on the cold floor. The chill was grounding, but not enough. His breaths began come out in shallow gasps as he turned to stare at one of the pictures on the wall. Of him, his brother, and their father during a trip to Paris. Dr Gaster stood between them both, looking as serious as ever. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Father’s gonna kill me if I have kids outta marriage.”

“You think you have problems? I can’t afford a fucking kid, Red.” Razz took a deep breath. “I was going to university but that’s not happening now. Meet me at the café in Natalia Gardens at 11. Don’t you dare bail out on me.”

Before he could get out another word, the phone went silent. The call had ended. Red dropped the phone, and it fell to the floor with a quiet thump. He stayed there for a few seconds, before slowly standing up again, picking up his phone. Glancing at himself in the full-body mirror on the wall, he stopped. The word echoed in his mind. Pregnant. Sweat dripped down his neck, and he was trembling, despite feeling far too hot.

Fucking hell. There was basically only one way to fix this and he didn’t like it. But- He wasn’t about to abandon Razz either – even if no one would believe it was his child if he, the great Doctor Gaster’s oldest, denied it. Said he had no idea what Razz was talking about. Yeah, he couldn’t do that. But having a bastard… Both they and the kid would suffer. Especially Razz, as the one to carry it. And abortion- yeah. If it was found out, and Razz didn’t die in the process, the priests would have their literal heads.

Tearing his eyes away from his pallid face, he dropped into his office chair. He was in so much trouble.

…

Rush-hour was just about starting as Red dismounted his motorcycle outside of the gardens. In them, however, it would be quieter: beautiful as it was, for some reason there never seemed to be a lot of people inside. He locked it into place and put his helmet away before making his way into them. The wind was chilly, and he had to close his leather jacket over his black band t-shirt. Autumn-coloured trees towered above him as he hurried along the pathway toward the small café. It was as far away from the entrance as one could get, and so, rarely had too many visitors. Rain drizzled down from the grey skies, causing him to duck his head.

A bell jingled gently as he entered, and the scent of newly baked cinnamon rolls washed over him. His shoulders sank as he stepped into the warmth. His biker boots thumped against the wooden floor as he stopped, looking around. The walls were painted blue-grey, and the young man behind the white wooden counter smiled at him in greeting. Small tables filled up the floor, with few visitors inside. A couple old ladies by the window, three teenagers close to the door, and then, in the corner, two skeletons. He stiffened as Razz caught his eye. Two?

There was Razz, obviously, wearing a purple turtleneck, a black skirt, black leggings, and knee-high black boots. But the other skeleton was taller, in dark jeans and a dark orange turtleneck. And as they saw Razz was staring, they turned around, and found Red. A drop of sweat trickled down his neck beneath the stranger’s icy glare. Fighting the urge to cower, he quickly ordered and paid for a black coffee before making his way over to the table.

He raised a hand in an awkward greeting. “Hiya.”

“Hello,” Razz replied. It was polite enough, but his voice was tense. He gestured toward the table’s third chair. “Sit, please.” When Red did, he gestured again, this time toward the second skeleton. “Red, this is my dad, Wingdings Serif. Dad, this is Red. Red Gaster.”

Red offered his hand, only to grimace as Razz’s dad grasped it, squeezing. His smile was disconcertingly sharp, even omitting the fangs. One of his eyelights glowed orange, and the other neon pink. “Good day, sir.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Somehow, Red doubted it. The other still hadn’t let go of his hand, and it was starting to go numb. It buzzed. Mr Serif’s grin sharpened yet another bit, and Red subconsciously leaned away. “Say, is Razz correct that you’re the renowned Dr Gaster’s son?”

“Yeah,” he almost gasped out, the pressure around his fingers growing. He sighed in relief as Mr Serif finally let go off them. Pulling them in under the table, he carefully flexed them, holding in another grimace. Ouch. “His oldest.”

“And what, exactly, is it you do?”

A shiver travelled up his spine as those eyes stared straight into his soul. They seemed to burn brighter with every moment. Red took a deep breath, straightening. What the fuck was he doing, letting someone intimidate him? His father would be ashamed. “’M taking a gap year, sir, but then ’m going to study quantum physics a’ th’ University o’ Camaria.” One of the country’s finest universities.

“See,” Razz interrupted, causing him to twitch. Mr Serif only turned toward him, with one eyebrow raised. “Told you.”

“Yep,” he agreed before turning back to Red. He hummed, grin dropping as fast as it had come. “Good. Then you will at least be able to give Razz and the thing a stable home, now when you’ve taken his chance to make his own future.” He abruptly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as it almost fell over. He caught Red’s gaze, and the pink eyelight flickered. “Have fun. The wedding will be before it starts to show.” He leaned on the back of his chair, a manic smile flashing over his face as he held the eye contact. “Or I’ll find you.”

Then he swept around, gone in an instant. Red stared after him, gaping. His soul pounded in his chest as he tried to process that he’d just both been death threatened and commanded to marry someone he’d met once. Once the words began to sink in, however, he sagged. Oh fuck, that was the only option wasn’t it? Marriage. But he was fucking nineteen. When he finally tore his eyes away from the door, back to the table, Razz was watching him in disinterest, stirring his cup of cocoa with a spoon.

“Huh,” he said, dropping the spoon. It tinkled as it fell against the pink cup. “You took that better than most. Didn’t even whimper. Colour me impressed.”

“What the fuck. Did he just threaten ta kill me.” Red stared at him, unable to believe the other was so calm about this.

“Yep,” he said, popping on the ‘P’. “And don’t think he wouldn’t do it. Now shut up about dad. There’re more important things going on here. Like this.” He grabbed his shirt, pulling it up. Purple ectoplasm immediately lit up their table, and inside, a small crimson soul floated. Oh fuck that was his colour. He still wanted a paternity test to make sure, but oh Angel he felt most of his doubt ebb away.

Still-

“Pretty,” he breathed. Hell, he wasn’t ready for any of this but, it was.

The corner of Razz’s mouth twitched. Then his expression turned serious. “Listen. I like this even less than you do. We’ve been saving all my life to afford me going to university, and now this. And I am not fond of the idea of marrying you. You’re a stranger. But you listen here-” He leaned over the table, eyelights gleaming in the dim corner. Red swallowed. “-I am not going to become a pariah. I am not throwing away my future, and will not become a single parent working three jobs to make ends meet. Fuck no. So we’re doing what dad says. This is just as much your fault as it’s mine and I refuse to be the only one taking responsibility.”

“Calm down, pal.” Red raised his hands. One of them hit his forgotten coffee cup, making it clink. “’M an asshole but not that kind o’ asshole. Yeah. I guess there’s not much choice ‘ere. But Father can’t know yer pregnant – I’d rather avoid being disowned.”

Razz sank back into his chair, relief evident on his face. He nodded, smiling faintly. “That’s acceptable. I expect a beautiful wedding.”

“O’ course. ‘M a Gaster. My brother would never allow anything else.” He hummed, reaching out for the coffee cup. It had begun to grow cold, but was still drinkable, luckily. Downing half of it at once, he stared up at the ceiling. “Now how th’ fuck am I gonna get Father ta pay fer this? Because I sure as hell can’t.”

Silence fell for a few moments. Then Razz snorted, bringing a spoonful of his cocoa to his mouth. “So what is your opinions on dogs?”

A grin spread across Red’s face. “Love ‘em.”

…

He took a deep breath, intertwining his fingers with Razz’s. Lifted it and watched the diamond ring now on his finger gleam in the few rays of sunlight that had broken through the clouds. They’d went and bought it immediately after coffee. Razz’s hand was trembling as he stared up at the manor towering above them, with its pillars and ebony-clad windows. Hesitance shone in his eyelights.

Gently, Red tugged at his hand, leading him along the path toward the grand entrance. Security cameras buzzed as they zoomed in on them, but otherwise everything was quiet. Even the street laid abandoned in the middle of the day. It was pure luck that Dr Gaster was at home today, preparing for an important conference.

“You live here?” Razz murmured, almost reverently, and Red shrugged.

“Yeah. Father’s an important man.” It was an understatement. As one of the top scientists, and King Asgore’s closest advisors, Dr Gaster was indispensable to the realm. Red and his brother had basically grown up surrounded by top politicians. Razz only nodded as Red tapped in the code for the door to open. The entrance hall spread out before them, and he could hear Razz gasp.

And yeah, he supposed it was impressive with its valves in the ceiling and crystal chandeliers. He couldn’t see it, or rather he didn’t care, but he supposed it was. After letting Razz marvel for a few moments, he pulled him toward the staircase. His stomach squirmed with worry, and he squeezed his now-fiancé’s hand. It was weird to hold it, they still didn’t know each other, but if they were going to convince his father about this they better start early.

Then they were in front of his father’s study door. He glanced at Razz. Remember, he can’t know-” Razz nodded, and he raised a fist and knocked. A few seconds later, a come in came, and he slid the door open, revealing a huge room bordered with bookcases. In the middle, an oaken writing desk sat, and Doctor Gaster himself sat behind, dressed in a black suit of latest fashion. He looked up as they stepped in.

“Red,” he said, nodding. “Who is this?”

Taking a deep breath, Red held up their intertwined fingers, flashing the matching engagement rings on their fingers. Dr Gaster froze, staring first at them and then at him. Red smiled, trying to make it look convincing. “Razz, Father. My fiancé.”

Without a word, Dr Gaster stood, rounding the desk. As he came up to them, he towered above them, his red eyelights gleaming in the dim light of the study. Red grinned up at him, despite how his soul seemed to tremble. Oh, he was a great father, and had always done his best to properly raise both him and his brother despite being so busy, but he could also be incredibly intimidating. Especially when you were trying to get him to sponsor your very sudden wedding.

“I didn’t know you even had a boyfriend, Red,” he commented, and it would’ve seemed flippant except that the esteemed Dr Gaster would never be flippant. Red’s grin wavered. “Much less a fiancé.”

“Yeah,” he replied, resisting the urge to rub his neck. “It was a tiny bit sudden, but we want to get married. As soon as possible.”

“Oh?”

“And we need your help, Father.” Better just get to the fucking point. If there was one thing no one in his family could stand, it was people who wouldn’t stop digging around the bush. “We can’t pay for the wedding.”

Dr Gaster slowly nodded. His hands were behind his back, and he seemed to straighten yet another bit. “And why, exactly, are you in such a hurry?” Red opened his mouth to speak, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Razz do the same, but before either of them could think of anything to say, Dr Gaster’s mouth twisted into a sharp smile. His fangs gleamed. “Well, son? I want the truth.”

Sweat trickled down his neck. Fuck. Neither he nor Fell had ever managed to lie to their father. It was basically impossible. When no one spoke, Dr Gaster hummed, going back to sit in his chair. He folded his hands on the desk, staring up at them. His gaze was piercing. “You see, earlier this morning, I had an interesting fellow come here, demanding to see me. Wanted to secure his son’s future.” His voice and expression were completely collected, calm, which made it even scarier. Red swallowed hard. He could feel Razz squeeze his hand, but as he turned to the other, Razz’s face was completely blank.

“Very well.” Dr Gaster opened a drawer, pulling out some paper. He scratched down something on it with a fountain pen, before holding it out. Tentatively, Red let go off Razz to get it. As he grabbed it, the other held on, meeting his gaze. “I’m very disappointed, Red. I expected better.”

Hunching his shoulders, Red nodded. “Sorry. We were drunk.”

“What is done, is done.” Dr Gaster sighed. “Now get some better engagement rings. Those things look cheap and I will not let my son or his husband-to-be wear something that trashy.”

“Thanks, Father.”

When Dr Gaster turned back to the paperwork on his desk, Red knew they’d been dismissed. Grabbing Razz’s hand, he led them out of the study. As the door closed behind him, he exhaled and sat down in the nearby staircase. Razz joined him. Red threw his head back, staring up at the high ceiling. Things could be worse. At least Razz seemed like pretty decent company, even when he wasn’t drunk. Plus, Red could appreciate how he’d demanded marriage earlier: he liked a guy who didn’t back down.

“Well, that went better than expected. Now I just gotta tell my brother.”

Razz let out a quiet laugh. “This is all a huge fucking mess. But at least I’ll get a pretty ring.”

“That’s somethin’, ain’t it?”

…

After swallowing deeply, Red exhaled. Smoothed out the black suit with a dark red vest he was wearing. His soul pounded, and hadn’t he been completely on having his magic under control, he’d been sweating like a pig. A black engagement bond with a dark jewel glittering in all the rainbow’s colours sat on his finger. Music had begun playing inside the temple, and he stuck his hands into his trouser pockets to hide their trembling. Fuck he wasn’t ready for this. He couldn’t get married. His mouth was dry, and he yearned desperately for a drink. Something strong.

“This is it then.” He twitched as Razz spoke, stepping up to him. His friends had just helped him with the last details of the wedding gown. One with high waist, just beneath where he’d find ecto-breasts in a month’s time or so, to hide the belly that was starting to bulge just slightly. Two months into the pregnancy. Two months since their futures had been decided. The gown was a muted purple with black silk ribbons as decorations, and he held a bouquet of black and dark purple flowers in his hands. Razz smiled, but it was shaky.

“Yeah-” His voice shook. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and there his brother was. Fell glared down at him sternly, but there was compassion in there too.

“Calm down,” he all but commanded. “Breathe, brother.” Exhaling again, Red felt his shoulders sink. He nodded. “Everything is going to be great, for both of you.”

“He’s right,” Razz said, taking place at Red’s right arm. Everyone else stepped into position. His smile turned determined as he met Red’s eyes. “We’ll make him right.”

A chuckle escaped Red, and he nodded again. Somehow, that did help. His soul slowed a bit. “Yer right. Matrimony won’t know what hit it.”

Suddenly the music got faster, and the doors began to slide open. Red closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, it wasn’t difficult to smile. The temple was decorated with candles and dark flowers, and an enormous crowd was gathered, all in dark colours. Just as he and Razz had wanted it. That they’d managed to put this together in less than a month- It was unbelievable. And at the very front, both their fathers stood, together with the priestess who was going to wed them. Both were smiling.

He held out his arm for Razz to take, and the other did. It was warm through the fabric. His eyes met Razz’s, and yeah. Yeah, they could do this. Something akin to certainty settled in his chest as the music got louder, and after receiving a nod and a smile from Razz, they stepped into the temple.

#underfell #swapfell #blackcherry #uf sans #sf sans #uf papyrus #uf gaster #sf gaster #swapfell gaster #underfell gaster #shotgun wedding #bingo-stories #mention of abortion #pregnancy #mpreg #i can't do titles

[notsoguiltykpop]

Champion pt4

Jungkook x Reader

Racecar driver / street racer au

Genre: Romance, suspense, fluff, slightly smutty later on in the story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6,  Part 7 coming soon

Synopsis: You might have gotten your start on the street, but you’ve always had bigger plans. With a new sponsor backing you, you’re all set to work your way up in the motorsport world and make it big.Your dream is to take down Jeon Jungkook, who is currently one of the best drivers in the sport. He doesn’t quite know how he feels about this rookie winning all the races and getting all the attention, but it reminds him why he’s racing in the first place–to be nothing but the best, and leave everyone else in the dust.Things get complicated when he falls head over heels for the competition.

Previously posted on my AO3 (2018-03-26) but decided to post it here as well!

"Congratulations ," Hoseok deadpanned, slamming his phone down in front of you so you had little choice but to look at the screen. After the race, you and your small crew ended up at Taehyung's house for a celebratory party. It sounded fun at first, but Hoseok was so irritated with you that no one wanted to be in the same room as him, so Jimin and Taehyung ended up playing the Wii while you ate chips and watched them from the kitchen bar. "After only two races--I repeat, two--you have already made an enemy of the most influential driver out there."

"It's good for publicity?" You tried, and Hoseok fixed you with a cold stare. You weren't sure what you could say to make your sponsor feel better, and stalled by clearing your throat and reaching for your glass of water. The article that was open on his phone described the "beef" you apparently had with Jungkook. "It's a competitive sport, Hoseok. What was I supposed to do? What I told that Yoongi guy is true--and it's not like I'm the only driver who's hoping to beat him."

Hoseok scoffed in annoyance. “Maybe so, but other people know better than to start unnecessary drama and to keep their heads down. So what now? When you race against him and lose, what happens then? Everyone says 'told you so' and forgets about you, that's what."

You were taken aback by the bitterness in Hoseok's voice and frowned. It was true that you didn't fully think through what you wrote down earlier, but Hoseok was making it out to be much too big of a deal. So you got a little carried away--what was he expecting? Hoseok threw you into an interview without any warning whatsoever, and on top of that there was the issue of Jungkook quitting without you getting the opportunity to race against him. All things considered, it went pretty well.

"Whoa, breathe," You held up a hand in defense. "What happened to all that faith you have in me? I'd win against Jungkook... Probably," You muttered the last part, shaking your head quickly and changing the subject. "It'll all blow over, anyway. Don't forget that I'm still a nobody--people will forget anything happened by tomorrow. Don't worry so much."

"Hey," Taehyung called, wandering into the kitchen. It was only then that you noticed the sounds of mario cart had come to an abrupt halt. Jimin trailed after Taehyung, giving you a look you couldn't quite decipher.

"What?" Hoseok asked, running a hand down his face. He sounded tired, as though this one day with you had aged him by years.

"This might be a bad time," Taehyung said, looking between the two of you. "But, uh... Jungkook's agent made an official statement in response."

You smiled nervously as Hoseok turned to face you. "Maybe he's defusing the situation?"

Taehyung shook his head, grinning. He was the only one who was truly happy with what you said in your interview, and was even happier about the articles. "I think he just accepted Y/n's challenge."

Jungkook, in his attempt at being inconspicuous, somehow managed to make himself stand out even more than he would have if he'd just worn normal clothes. He spent a little longer than he'd care to admit trying to pick out an outfit, only to remember that it would be awkward for him to be recognized while the two of you chatted. So he ended up wearing an oversized sweater with the hood pulled up over a baseball cap that was pulled down to cover his eyes. It was only after he sat down in a corner of the coffee shop that he realized just how out of place he looked. The hot weather had everyone else was wearing shorts and sandals, and he sunk lower in his chair.

He wondered briefly if there was time to go home and change, but a quick glance at his phone told him otherwise. He internally groaned--he was quite literally overdressed. He grateful for the distraction of his phone going off, and couldn’t quite help his smile when he saw who it was from.

[12:35] “Runing late b thr soon.”

Maybe the butterflies he felt were because he hadn’t really gone on a date in so long, or maybe it was because he really did like you thatmuch, he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that talking to you was strangely refreshing. There was a glint in your eyes, sort of like you were in on a joke that he wasn’t, and he was dying to get to know what it was. In all of your short conversations through text, you steered clear of topics concerning yourself. You dodged direct questions expertly and changed the subject so smoothly it was only later that Jungkook noticed that he didn’t really get an answer.

You were a bit of an enigma, which only made Jungkook want to know you more.

His phone buzzed again, and he pulled it back out of his pocket eagerly, only to have his smile drop completely a moment later.

Seokjin’s text was simple and to the point; 

[12: 39] “We need to talk. Call me.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Seokjin meant well, and up until roughly a year ago, Jungkook would have called his manager one of his closest friends. But when Jungkook lost his motivation and first started talking about quitting, the elder couldn’t understand it--Jungkook had everything going for him, after all--and the disconnect drove a wedge between them. As a result, their recent conversations were quick, curt, and generally unpleasant.

Jungkook was pulled from his thoughts by someone sitting down across from him, bumping the table slightly. He opened his eyes to see you sending him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, car trouble,” You said with a sigh, rather than greet him properly. “Had to borrow my roommate’s, and he wasn’t too happy about it.” In fact, Jimin didn’t have much of a say in the matter. After realizing your car wasn’t going anywhere, you took his keys and shouted that you were “borrowing” his car as you went.

“You should have called me, I would’ve picked you up,” Jungkook smiled, and there was that little blush again.

“No! I mean, it’s fine,” You sounded slightly panicked at first, but laughed it off the next second. Hoseok occasionally just showed up at your house to chat, and the last thing you needed was him seeing Jungkook’s Maserati in your driveway--especially while he was still unhappy with you. “Jimin didn’t have plans for today, anyway.”

“Oh, that’s good, then,” Jungkook nodded, biting his lip. You realized you’d somehow made the conversation awkward, and were trying to think of something to say when Jungkook did for you. “So uh, do you know what’s wrong with your car? I know a little about them, maybe I can help…” He muttered the last bit, as though he was regretting mentioning it.

“I would think you’d know at least a little about cars,” You laughed. “You only drive one for a living…” You glanced at him briefly to gauge his reaction, making sure he hadn’t taken offense at your sarcasm. He only chuckled though, ducking his head in agreement. “There’s nothing really wrong with my car, it just doesn’t have wheels at the moment.” Jungkook looked confused, and you figured you should elaborate. “My roommate’s a mechanic and decided today was a good day to replace my shocks without telling me.”

You were sure he did it on purpose. Jimin couldn’t tell you what to do or who not to date, but he could make your life a little harder if he wanted to. Plus, you couldn’t really be that mad at him because he was doing you a favor.

Jungkook’s mouth formed an “oh” shape and he nodded again. You decided it was time to steer the conversation away from yourself, in case you let something slip that you shouldn’t.

“How’s your week been?” You asked, unable to think of something better to say. You hated small talk--it was pointless and had a habit of dragging on endlessly--but the fact was you didn’t know Jungkook quite well enough to avoid it yet.

“Odd,” Jungkook said after a second of thought. “I genuinely can’t tell if you follow racing or not--” You laughed a little at that. “--but you know Hoseok, right? His driver’s lost his mind, apparently. Thinks he’s better than me because he won one race,” Jungkook seemed quite amused by this. Part of you wanted to point out that it wasn’t really one race, you were the best street racer out there before making it to the track. Your confidence did have ground in something, at least. But you could say no such thing, for so many reasons.

“I did hear something about that,” You nodded. “I think it’s good Hoseok’s driver has so much faith in their abilities.”

“He’s getting ahead of himself--he’s only ever been in two races, and he thinks he stands a chance against me? Poor kid’s setting himself up for failure,” Jungkook shrugged, and you realized he’d slipped back into the cocky overconfident persona you originally met. You still weren’t sure which one was really him; shy and cute, or obnoxious and bold, but you were increasingly curious.

“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” You raised an eyebrow.

“I have every reason to be,” Jungkook smirked.

“So you’re actually going to take him up on the challenge?” You asked, trying not to seem too eager to hear his answer. The official statement Seokjin made was vague, and while at first you were sure it meant he would race you, the more you thought about it, the less likely it seemed.

“Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose,” Jungkook’s smile widened, and you couldn’t help your own competitive streak rising in you.

“He might win, though,” You pointed out.

“Unlikely,” Jungkook countered. “I’ll admit he has talent, but he’s still new to this. Yesterday's win was a fluke.”

“How do you know?” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, you don’t know anything about him, right? Maybe he has more experience than you think.”

Jungkook tilted his head to one side. “You and Hoseok are pretty close, right? Do you know his driver?”

You regretted your words instantly. You’d said too much. “We’ve met. Why?”

“You almost sound like you think he stands a chance against me.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh a little. This whole conversation was ridiculous. Since when did he feel so competitive just talking about some rookie-nobody? “Who knows, maybe you’re right.” He bit his lip, trying to think of the right words.

“I am,” You said casually, a slight smirk on your lips.

Jimin was none too happy when you returned his car that evening, but he thankfully didn’t take revenge out on you by telling Hoseok.

“You’re not seeing him again though, right?” He asked, and you shrugged noncommittally. You knew you probably shouldn’t, but after spending the afternoon with Jungkook, you didn’t really care about what you should and shouldn’t do. The playful banter had continued for the majority of the date, and you weren’t sure when the last time was that you felt so at ease with someone (other than Jimin; he didn’t count).

The fact was you liked Jungkook--liked his competitiveness, the cute way his ears turned pink when he got shy, and the way his nose scrunched when he laughed. But Jimin had a good point when he had asked you what would happen when Jungkook found out you were lying to him. You knew if you wanted a chance at something with Jungkook, you would have to tell him who you were sooner rather than later, and that simply wasn’t an option.

Jimin must have seen the conflict in your eyes, because he actually let the subject drop. The next time Jungkook came up in any conversations, it was two weeks later, after your fourth race.

Just like the time before, as soon as the photo-op with you and your first-place trophy was over, Hoseok lead you away from the crowd and into a back meeting room. (You had no idea how he managed to get permission to use these rooms, every time you asked he just shrugged.) The race itself passed in the usual blur, save for the moment you were nearly involved in a wreck. The car ahead of you miscalculated a turn, and the next thing anyone knew, they were off the track. You avoided getting hit by the other car only narrowly, but kept driving just like everyone else.

“That was good,” Hoseok said after the door shut behind Taehyung. Your whole crew was grinning ear-to-ear, and you felt pretty great yourself.

“Hell yeah it was,” You agreed as you pulled your helmet off.

“You’re on a roll,” Taehyung slapped you on the back, taking the first place trophy from you to admire it for himself. You shrugged, and he rolled his eyes at how calm you were acting. “Winning three times in a row is pretty damn impressive.”

Hoseok walked over to you and pressed a bottle of water into your hands. He was significantly less outwardly excited than the others in the room, but you knew him well enough to see that he too was thrilled.

“Drink this,” He said firmly. “And then get back out there. Yoongi wants to do a follow-up interview, and there are a few others who want to talk to you as well. Do me a favor and don’t start anything this time, yeah?”

You nodded, pouring the water on your face instead of drinking it; the jumpsuit got way too hot, and that in combination with wearing the helmet for so long left you feeling overheated.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Hoseok said dryly, watching you as his lip curled in disdain. “You’re getting water all over the carpet--”

You interrupted him by flinging some of the water in his direction, laughing as he jumped out of the way. Before he could scold you, Taehyung joined in, opening his own water to pour on Hoseok from behind.

“Loosen up!” He said as Hoseok let out a startled yelp. “You’re no fun!”

You glanced over at Jimin, who was sitting off to one side laughing at the scene in front of him. “You’re a bunch of children,” He chuckled.

“That is enough!” Hoseok announced, trying to wrestle the bottle away from Taehyung. Before he succeeded however, someone knocked on the door.

“That’ll be Yoongi,” Hoseok said, letting go of Taehyung’s arm and trying to fix his own hair quickly. You sighed, not looking forward to putting the helmet back on so soon.

“I’ll stall,” Jimin stood, slipping out the door quickly. Taehyung was still smiling brightly, and even Hoseok didn’t seem nearly as annoyed as he was trying to act.

“I meant it when I said don’t start anything--And don’t let Yoongi get to you. He likes getting a reaction out of people, so just stay calm and ignore him, okay?” Hoseok said as Jimin stepped back into the room.

“It uh… Isn’t the reporter guy. Kim Seokjin’s out here and wants to talk to Y/n.”

“So you’re going to keep that… thing… on?” Seokjin asked, leaning against the wall opposite to you, arms crossed. You nodded once, wishing your visor wasn’t quite so dark. The hallway you were in wasn’t exactly bright as it was, but adding the tinted glass made it hard for you to see properly. “God, you’re weird.” He muttered, and you nodded again.

A moment of silence passed between you, and Seokjin shifted slightly. “You really don’t talk, huh? Fine, it doesn’t matter. Look, I’m here to give you a chance to end this thing you’ve started with Jungkook before it gets out of hand.”

You wanted to ask why, but could only shrug.

“You’re new to this sort of thing, so maybe you don’t understand that by challenging Jungkook, you’re putting your career on the line. Once he wins, people will forget about you.”

“I assure you, my driver knows what he’s doing,” Hoseok chimed in, stepping into the hall behind you. You nodded, and Seokjin sighed.

“Good,” He said, pulling out his phone to type as he spoke. “Because Jungkook’s about to announce that the two of you will be in the same race in four months time, and he plans to win.” He didn’t wait for a response, turning to walk away and waving absentmindedly over his shoulder.

“Hang on,” Hoseok looked just as surprised as you felt, jogging to catch up with the other man. “Last I heard, Jeon wasn’t in any of the same races--”

“Right,” Seokjin looked up at his phone. “That was before this kid decided to remind Jungkook how much he enjoys crushing the competition.”

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagines #joen jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts scenarios #bts scenario blog #bts scenario #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfction

[fromageinterrupted]

21 - Kiss on a dare combined with 64 - Being Unable To Open Their Eyes For A Few Moments Afterward for plance

Hooo boy! This prompt possessed my soul and made me churn out 3,000 words just so the babies could kiss.  @hailqiqi I hope this does justice to the prompts. I love you and your amazing writing ability! 

You can find me on AO3 fromageinterrupted.

Fair warning, it does get somewhat T rated.

                                                   STB

This was was stupid. The whole thing was completely ridiculous and Pidge wanted none of it. The dumb town had lost their mind.

“Do I have to, Hunk?” She whined. She wasn’t much of a whiner, but the whole thing was getting out of hand and Hunk had her backed into a corner.

“Nu-uh. No way. You are not getting out of this. You AGREED to my terms and now you must pay the price.” He held their agreement over her head like some malevolent angel sent to deceive the desperate.

“Maybe we could alter the terms of our agreement? I’m sure I can come up with something else besides this.” She shoved her phone into his face, but he pushed it out of the way.

He grabbed her shoulders. “I got you the goods, now pay up.”

“God, they were just brownies, Hunk. Regular brownies at that. Not even frosted.”

She wanted to pretend that they were ordinary, but she knew better, everyone knew better. Hunk’s brownies were the literal best dessert in town. Everyone wanted them, but he insisted he had to be in the right mindset to make them and he had to love the person he was making them for, thus making them a sought-after and rare commodity. Pidge had to agree with this faulty logic because,one time she had one of his brownies he was coerced into making for their home-ec class-- a class Hunk could have taught with both hands behind his back-- and they were terrible. Though, she suspects he did that on purpose so the teacher would leave him alone the rest of the semester.

Pidge had needed his brownies. Hundreds of them. She was going to go to the summer program at Caltech if it killed her and she had to raise the money for the final payment somehow. All her spec work had dried up, so her mom suggested a bake sale. Pidge couldn’t bake to save her life, but Hunk was an angel (albeit an evil one-she knows this now) sent from heaven who agreed to offer his services for free...except one thing. She had to do whatever he wanted her to do for whole day. Which, at the time, seemed a pretty fair price.

The day had gone swimmingly; they hung out at his place, planted the starters for his summer vegetable and berry gardens, did some homework, then ended up at Shakes, a candy colored building with a giant spinning shake on the roof, a beacon of socialization for much of the town’s teen populous. Inside offered raised booths surrounding groups of tables that could be arranged in any configuration, some more quiet nooks off to the side, and a long counter with stools where the patron not traveling in a pack could order a darn good burger and shake, any flavor imaginable. Pidge and Hunk had taken up residence in one of the raised booths, offering them a full view of the daily drama that a collection of teens can bring, as well as shielding them from being front and center to the drama.

She had been lulled into a false sense of security that a good burger and a great shake could bring;  her trust in her friend was too great apparently.

“You’re going to do it, and you’re going to enjoy yourself. Sometimes Pidge-” Hunk sighed as if the burden of his friend’s singleness was too great,”- I think you’re made of stone.” He pinched her cheek and winked at her. His hand shot out to point suddenly  “Look! There he is now!”

Pidge swung her head over her shoulder to see where Hunk was pointing, her stomach dropping when she saw him. Lance McClain, resident co-captain of the swim team and the lead in all the school drama productions. He was as cliche as they come; tall, dark, and handsome. Or hawt-- “H. A. W. T. Won’t McClain Please Look at Me!?”--as the fanclub liked to say.

There were at least 12 seniors in his group. They had pulled together several tables and were lounging around them in one position or another, pretty girls in cheerleading outfits sitting on some the guys’ laps, other ones leaning over their burger baskets, their elbows on the table, fully invested in their dinner, one guy was doing the thing with the knife. He looked a little less than thrilled to be there and Pidge suspected his presence had everything to do with the girl he was sitting next to. Lance was sitting on the end, his chair turned sideways along the table, his long legs sticking out into the space left when they grouped the tables together. He was popular and well-liked and Pidge was....well...not. Popular that is. Sure she had a name for herself among the academic crowd, but she was persona non grata around the rest, no reason to get to know one of the teacher’s nerdy children.

Lance suddenly looked right at them, a smile blooming on his face when he spotted Hunk, then started waving. That’s right, Pidge remembered, Hunk was pretty popular and well-liked too.

“Hey Hunk! Hey Pidge!”-Huh?-Maybe not as unnoticed as she assumed. To be fair, he was good friends with Hunk, and Pidge had been around them several times during study sessions. Hunk waved backed, a crooked grin on his face. Pidge nodded at him over her shoulder and turned back to face Hunk.

He flipped her phone over, face up. “Turn it on Pidge. It’s time”.

She stared at it like it was a pen at a scantron test. “No Hunk. Please….”  She couldn’t do it. She was not brave enough.

As if he could read her mind Hunk responded, “You’re one of the bravest people I know. Besides, your brother made the app. Think of it as supporting your family.”

“My brother can go die for inventing that app. It’s ridiculous. Look around:” Everyone in the place had their phones face up, a colorful digital spinner visible on many of them. When they went dark, someone would get up and find someone else and they would kiss. Most of it was pretty vanilla, but they were teens and pretty hormonal. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“Spin the Bottle? Come on Hunk. Why is this popular? Why doesn’t everyone just use tinder?”

Hunk laughed, “Really, Pidge? Tinder? That’s for hooking up you know. STB is for fun. Just a little non-committal lippage among friends. Mostly harmless and a whole lot of fun.”

“Says the guy who has girls pretending the ‘bottle’ landed on you.” her food had come mid conversation so she took the opportunity to stuff a bunch of fries in her mouth in disgust.

Hunk chuckled, “And who am I to turn them away? I’m not in the habit of breaking girls’ hearts. Anyway, turn the app on Pidge.” He tapped her phone again.

Pidge wiped a hand across her mouth. “Alright, fine. Gimme.” She grabbed her phone and turned it on. The app already open on her phone, Hunk having started it up when they got to Shakes.  Lance’s name and current location displayed. Pidged shivered.

Matt had made a pretty good app actually. He developed software that could vet those who wanted to use the app, making sure high schoolers only met up with other high schoolers and so on. He’d made it for his senior project and school prank all in one. Spin The Bottle. Simple, easy to use, and it spread like wildfire. Everyone she knew had the app, and most everyone would open it during lunches at school and when they were hanging out at Shakes.

It worked like this: you would spin the colorful wheel on the screen, it would cycle through anyone signed up on the app and signed in at the time in the radius you choose at that time. Then, when it lands on a person, you find them and kiss them. You can always deny the kiss, but there was a leader board for both amount of kisses and time spent kissing. And, being the hormonal teens they all tended to be, the competition was strong.

Even though it was her brother’s creation, Pidge did not play STB. She was not “dtk” or whatever everyone said. Now Hunk’s evil design had placed her squarely in the game and she was...well..nervous. She had never kissed anyone before and this was a most public way of checking that off her list. Not to mention, she was already a wreck around Lance usually anyway. Where other’s flirted with people they liked, Pidge ignored them or made kind of mean comments. Both things she’s directed toward Lance numerous times.

She folded her hands in plea. “Please Hunk. Pretty Please. I can’t do this.”

Hunk stared her down. “You can and you will. Not only do you owe me for the brownies, but--and I’m sorry to bring this up-- you still owe me a dare.” A smug look of triumph crossed his face. Pidge could not believe this.

“I owe you a dare? How does that?...That doesn't even make sense Hunk!” It was ridiculous. “You can’t owe someone a dare.”

“Uhuh. Back in fifth grade, at Stinky’s birthday party, when we were playing ‘Truth or Dare’. Your mom came and got you before I could give you a dare. It’s time to--”

“-Don’t finish that.” She glared at him.

“Pidge, I dare you to kiss Lance McClain. Now get up. Get on with it.”  He had stood up, pulled Pidge to standing as well, placed her phone in her hand, and pushed her forward. She almost fell off the raised platform. “Wait!” her heels dug into the floor. “I. I have french fry breath. I can’t kiss-” Hunk cut her off.

“Open up.”

Her body must have decided to do it’s own thing regardless of her brain cause she opened her mouth wide. Hunk took the opportunity to dump quite a number of Tic Tac into it.

“There. Now chew those on the way over and you’re golden.” he gently shoved her off the platform.

Pidge stumbled forward before straightening herself up. There was no use in fighting it. If she was going to follow through on a dare from fifth grade and her promise to Hunk, she was going to do it right.

The Tic Tacs melted quickly leaving her mouth feeling cool and hopefully smelling nice as well.

Pidge held her phone in her hand, Lance’s name flashing as she came closer to him. His own phone was in his hands, his attention fully on the screen as STB alerted him to Pidge’s proximity. Everyone at the table fell silent as she stopped next to his outstretched legs. He looked up at her, a question in his pretty blue eyes.

“Katie?” Crap! She forgot Hunk signed her up using her real name. A million thoughts were running through her head as she contemplated her next move.

“Pidge? Your real name is Katie?” he kind of laughed “it’s cute, it suits you.”

Some of the initial nervousness left her stomach, replaced by the feeling of butterflies. Her cheeks warmed. “I..yes. I’m Katie.” real smooth Pidge.

Lance titled his head toward her phone, “Looks like we’re paired up on STB. You ready to do this?” Pidge though she saw something like hope in his eyes. Could he want to kiss her? Seems unlikely but here they were regardless. She looked over at Hunk in the distance, he gave her a thumbs up.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this McClain.” He straightened up and Pidge moved herself between his open legs. He was so tall (and she was, admittedly, very short) that Pidge wouldn’t have to bend down too much to align her lips with his. She leaned forward.

“Hold on Pidge.:” Lance pressed a button on his app accepting the STB pairing and reached out and did the same on hers. “We still have to find out how long this is going be.”

That’s right, Pidge forgot the length of the kiss was randomly generated by the app. Most everyone got 10 to 30 seconds, some 1 minute, and very few higher than that. The most time a couple could get was 5 minutes, but, she’s heard, that was very rare. Their apps flashed 3:00 in big red numbers. Dang! Three minutes? That seemed like a lot to Pidge. As someone who’s never kissed anyone before, this was daunting. Lance however seemed elated.

“WooHoo! No one ever gets over one minute. This is awesome.” He made some sort of look at Pidge, she assumed it was meant to be flirty and seduce her all at once. All it actually did was make her laugh a little. She responded with a bravado she did not possess. ‘“I don’t know McClain, think you can handle kissing me for three whole minutes?” She stared him down, judging his reaction.

He put his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him. “We’re about to find out, aren’t we?” The timer on the phones beeped signalling the start. Lance moved one hand to the back of her neck and pulled her head down toward his.

Pidge didn’t know what she had been expecting. Two people’s skin touching each other shouldn’t feel like this. Objectively, she had known she wanted to put her face on Lance’s face for some time even though she had no frame of reference for having this want.

She didn’t move for a moment. Lance’s lips were soft and warm as he moved them . He kept placing tiny kisses on her lips, barely any suction at all, and it felt incredibly good to Pidge. His next kiss pulled her bottom lip out just a little, and, as it snapped back into place, something other than Pidge’s brain took over.

Her lips did their own thing and she went with it. She started to repeat whatever Lance did. Soon the kiss became more intense. Lance had shifted both his hands back to her waist, his fingers sliding just under the hem of her shirt, barely grazing the skin there. She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck, sliding her hand through the hair at the nape. She pressed harder, tilting her head. Lance seemed to enjoy that because he pressed back, the time between their lips losing contact becoming nonexistent.  

A beep from their phones indicated a minute had passed. If felt like the fastest minute of Pidge’s life. She didn’t want three minutes to end. No amount of imagining kissing Lance had prepared her for how good it felt, how the butterflies in her stomach bloomed into something else entirely, some energy that flowed through her veins and warmed every inch of her. She wanted more from him, more from this kiss. Lance apparently did too because the next thing she knew his tongue had begun to trace the seam of her lips.

Pidge was no dummy. She had read a lot of source material, she knew french kissing was merely a part of kissing as a whole, but again, she was not prepared. She followed suit however, opening her mouth a little, giving unspoken permission to Lance to do his thing.

Which he wholeheartedly did. His tongue swept into her mouth, moving along her lips and running along her tongue, Pidge felt the overwhelming drive to reciprocate moving her tongue along his, astounded at the intimacy of this kiss.

The two minute beep sounded and Lance’s kisses became intense. He had pulled her so close to him their whole bodies were touching. His arms were holding her tight which Pidge was very thankful for, because what he was doing with his tongue and lips was leaving her weak in the knees. Somewhere in her mind she was chiding herself for being so cliche, but the rest of her was screaming for more. The game required the kiss be lip to lip, but she couldn’t help wanting him to kiss her neck, her ears, down her jaw, the possibilities were endless.

He made a noise, low and rich, that sent shivers through Pidge and made her toes curl. Their tongues were moving in unison now, their breathing getting faster. She was getting light-headed and overwhelmed. She was sure whatever was going on between them was something more than two acquaintances exchanging spit. Hunk may have been the better person at chemistry, but her and Lance were creating an explosive formula that seemed to be working very well.

BEEEEEEEP! The three minutes were up. Pidge tried to slow down, her task completed, but Lance didn’t stop, he kept slanting his lips over hers again and again. Then the whole restaurant started cheering and whooping. Reminded of their audience, Pidge pulled back abruptly, embarrassed by the show they just put on.

Lance however still had his eyes closed. His lips were puffy and red, his cheeks were flushed against his tan skin, his chest was rising and falling with rapid breaths. His tongue flicked out and licked the corner of his mouth. Pidge couldn’t help but want to kiss the spot his tongue had just been in. She shuddered.

Finally Lance opened his eyes. His lids still half lowered like he was coming out of some dream. Pidge could only assume the look on his face was one of desire because all she knew at that moment was how much she desired him too. He reached over and touched the “completed” button on the app.

“That was….” He stared at Pidge, his hands back on her hips. “....amazing. You...you want to hang out?” there was a note of unsurredness in his voice, Pidge didn’t understand why he would be remotely worried she wouldn’t say yes after that whole kiss, She pulled the words out of her fog of emotions. “Sure….maybe we could go sit with Hunk?” She glanced at Hunk in the corner booth, beaming at her. “Ooor…” She hesitated when Lance didn’t respond right away.

“No..that’s...fine. I mean..good. Maybe after we eat we can go somewhere?” His eyebrow raised in question.

Pidge flushed. “Sure. Let’s..hang out more.” She hoped she was conveying that she wanted to make-out with him more, but also get to know him better at the same time. That darn kissed had unlocked something in her and all she could think about was kissing him again. It wasn’t the point of the game, but somewhere along the way the game had been forgotten.

Lance stood up. Pidge had forgotten how tall he was, she had to crane her neck to see his face. She started doing calculation on how to remain in places where she could easily kiss him without serious calf exercises and high heeled shoes. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they went to meet up with Hunk.

“See you later guys..” He finger-gunned at the group, the knife guy rolling his eyes at him.

Hunk was stifling his glee when they got to the booth. Lance and he high-fived. “Nice work there buddy, though I would have saved that for a more private location. “

Pidge grimaced, Lance responded “Thanks, Pidge deserves my best work. Next time I’ll keep it less public.”  

“Next time?” Pidge asked him in a slightly threatening way. Sure she absolutely wanted a next time, but she wanted him to ask, not assume. He rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “I mean..that is..if you agree to a next time.” It made Pidge’s stomach do flip-flops to see him squirm and ask her. “Yeah. Next time let’s not be so public.”

“Yeah!” Lance gave a triumphant fist pump to the air and sat back in the booth, patting the spot  beside him. “Have a seat Pidgey. Your food is cold, it’s my fault so I’ll get you more. “  

“First I need to go use the bathroom. I’ll be right back guys,” Pidge turned to leave, Hunk was still going on about Lance’s “moves”. They probably thought she couldn’t hear them. The last thing she heard Lance say before she was too far to make out their words was “Thanks man, that was totally worth helping you make hundreds of brownies.”

[imaginedolanscribbles]

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Ethan x reader

warnings: signs of/light depression, swearing, underage drinking

words: 4.159

note: this is the continuation of Fine, as requested by so many of you (especially @heyvalhere96 @graysonbaileyandethangrant @grethanscudi)! This is basically just more hurt and (still) no happy ending. A third part will be coming up, too! Hope I don’t disappoint :)

With numbing yourself down comes determination. You’re not dependent on him, you’re strong and you can find your own happiness. You don’t need anybody. The problem is, you might know that, but Ethan doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.

So, how do you show him? Not so easy when you’re miles and miles away from him. But what’s the internet for, right? You know he follows you on Instagram, so all you have to do is capture it in a picture and post it.

This is how you end up going out much more than you usually do. In the beginning it is almost every night of the week that you find yourself squeezed in between sweaty strangers swaying to a pounding beat that drowns out any melody that might have once belonged to the track played by the DJ. The lights are flashing and you don’t want to be here, but you’re sick of lying in bed, your thoughts finding darker and darker paths that never seem to end. So you drink as much as you can, dance to the beat, and welcome the heat of the moving bodies all around you. And sometimes there will be hands settling heavy on your hips, a stranger’s body pressing up against your backside, and someone’s hot breath in your ear. Usually you need another drink, because it makes you feel so dirty – not in the sexy way, the literal way that makes you feel like there are now slimy, muddy handprints all over your body. If you’re lucky, the guy will pay for your drink, and if he’s cute you take a picture with him and post it.

And you always, always make sure Ethan has seen it. Your notifications say he hasn’t missed a single one. Remembering the stranger’s hands on you, their sweat sticking to you, their breath hot and disgusting in your hair, against your neck, still makes bile rise in the back of your throat. That feeling of defiance that comes with it makes it worth it, though, you tell yourself.

He can see how little you need him, now, how much fun you can have all on your own. “But he will never see you”, a little vile voice whispers in your head. It takes time, but eventually you manage to tune it out.

By the end of the semester your skin is itchy and red all the time, since no amount of showering and scrubbing seems to be able to wash away the disgusting feeling that keeps sticking to you with every new stranger touching you. You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up, but you don’t know what else to do. You have discovered, as long as you don’t think about Ethan, you’re fine. The obvious solution is to just keep yourself distracted, too busy to think about him.

You dread coming home for the holidays. Not because of Ethan, you’re fairly confident you’ve numbed yourself sufficiently for it not to hurt seeing him, at this point. You’re scared you won’t be able to distract yourself as efficiently at home, as you can at Uni. For a brief moment you consider not going home at all, but then you can’t realistically stay anywhere else. You don’t really have a choice.

    oooo

   Your grades slipped. Of course they did, when you were out pretty much every night and unable to stay awake during the day. And your parents know. There is shouting when you get home, lots of shouting and accusations and disappointment. It doesn’t last very long, though, since you don’t really have anything to respond with. How are you supposed to defend yourself, when you know full well they’re right? You’re failing. Failing them, failing yourself, failing at everything. So you just nod and stare at your feet, the feeling of tears pricking at the back of your eyes so familiar, you don’t even notice it. You don’t cry. Not in front of them, not when they’re right.

Nobody wakes you the next morning and they’re gone when you get up. A note tells you they’ve gone out grocery shopping and to call if you need anything. You don’t call.

Your phone notifies you of three texts.

Two from Gray:

Yesterday, 11:43 pm – You home yet?

Today, 10:09 am – Wake up sleepyhead, we’re going swimming!

One from Ethan:

Today, 00:42 am – Hope your flight was okay

You stare at the screen for a whole minute, your fingers hovering over the keys. What are you supposed to reply? Yes? No? There used to be a warmth blooming in your chest whenever they texted, guiding your fingers almost instinctively. You always knew how to reply to them. But sometime between then and now that warmth seems to have disappeared.

Finally you type:

Today, 12:55 pm -- Yeah, home now. Busy tho, maybe next time.

Biting your lip you add: Sorry.

   oooo

   It’s two weeks into vacation and you’re lying in your garden, listening to the world move around you. You discovered you actually don’t need to distract yourself, anymore. Listening is effective, too. As long as there’s noise around you, be it someone talking to you or a dog barking in the distance or simply the sounds of traffic, you can concentrate on that until it turns into white noise encasing you in cottony oblivion. Spacing out is just like getting drunk, only slightly more healthy.

Curiously enough, it doesn’t help with the tiredness, though. You still feel heavy, ready to close the blinds and crawl under the covers all the time.

You don’t know how long you’ve been lying in the grass like this. Your eyes are closed because like this you can focus on the sounds better. That’s probably why you don’t see them coming.

One minute there’s only sun burning down on you, trying to press warmth into your skin, since there’s apparently nothing left in you that can produce anything resembling warmth inside you anymore. The next, there's a shadow falling over your face and something nudges the side of your head.

Jolting, you open your eyes and look directly into familiar brown-green ones. Ethan is standing over you, staring down at you, and Grayson is squatting next to you. They were his knuckles that nudged your head, judging from the smirk on his lips.

“Found you!”, he declares like this was a game of hide and seek. Well. You suppose that might actually be pretty accurate.

Your eyes flicker from Gray to Ethan and yeah, there’s that echo of pain, again. But it’s slightly subdued, like a faraway cry of pain. You seem to have successfully put a good distance between you and your heart, at least a few football fields. Probably frozen over ones. Somehow it feels like there should be ice involved.

“Hey there”, you reply and sit up.

Gray immediately pulls you to his chest, promptly loses his balance and both of you fall back to the ground. His laugh is loud and harsh in your ear. It takes you a second to remind yourself to laugh with him, like you should. You pat his chest lightly and finally stand up. Gray holds out his hand for you and Ethan to help him up, and you do.

Receiving a hug from Ethan is weirdly surreal. You can see yourself standing there being engulfed in his long arms, and you know how warm his chest feels, know that he will be smelling like sweat, laundry, and concrete, and how his hair brushes silkily over your temple. You can’t feel it, though. It’s like your whole body has become callous to his touch, layered and layered with numbness until nothing can reach your heart anymore. Thinking back how you felt the last time you saw him, you decide you much prefer this actually.

Your mom brings you iced lemonade and cookies when you settle down on the shitty, creaky chairs surrounding the old table standing on the terrace. She must be the one who let them in.

Anytime either of them texted you in the past weeks, you just replied you were busy. And you don’t talk about it. Nobody mentions it, like it isn’t something all of you know.

“We’ve missed you”, Gray says and throws his arm around your shoulders, hugging you close once again.

You still just don’t know what to say to them. What is there to say? “I feel like I’m suffocating constantly and I’m still in love with Ethan, which doesn’t make any fucking difference because even if he didn’t have Ana, there would be absolutely no chance of us happening, since I’m a piece of shit who can’t get her life together and just keeps causing the people close to her grief”? As soon as that thought comes to your mind, you feel your stomach cramping up. Suddenly Gray’s arm feels so wrong, slung around you, touching you. He’s got his hands were others have touched you, their dirty handprints still burning on your skin.

“Me too”, you mumble and hunch your shoulders a little more, wishing nothing more than to be far, far away, and forget how good it feels to have them around. How much warmth and light they bring with them, brightening up your world without even trying. How the way Ethan’s hair keeps flopping into his eyes makes your heart flutter, like it forgot it has already splintered into a million pieces. How the circles under his eyes make you want to trace them softly with your fingertips.

You’re grateful for this wrung-out feeling of no tears left to spill over. You have nothing left to give, nothing to offer that hasn’t been completely and utterly broken. There’s nothing you need to protect anymore, there’s nothing left to lose.

   oooo

   That evening, your mom comes into your room. She sits on the bed, but you don’t move. You just lie there and look at her, waiting for her to say whatever she came to say. She takes a deep breath, tries to start talking but there's a darkness in her eyes – worry. It’s worry, you realize after a moment. Before you can ask yourself what that means, she shakes her head and cups your face gently in between her hands. Her thumb starts stroking your forehead slowly and suddenly you feel five years old again.

She used to do this whenever you hurt yourself, whenever you scratched your knee or bumped your head against something or other. And just like then, she starts humming the tune of that lullaby about the porcupine, her eyes soft and her touch familiar, and suddenly there’s that lump in your throat again. The one you can’t seem to swallow past.

“You okay?”, she whispers finally.

You can feel your eyes burning. “Fine.”

Her smile is so sad it makes your insides twist to know you put that expression there. She doesn’t stop stroking your forehead. “I know you’re not”, she says quietly. “You haven’t been eating well, you sleep all the time, and you don’t want to talk. About anything.”

You can’t even deny that, she is right. Of course she is. She’s your mom, of course she notices these things.

“I thought maybe Grayson and Ethan could cheer you up, but I was wrong, wasn’t I?” Her smile turns from sad to apologetic and you can’t stand it, you can’t look at her.

“I’m sorry”, is what comes out of your mouth, even as you press your eyes closed. You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for – anything? Everything?

She makes a shushing sound and kisses your forehead. “You have nothing to be sorry for. But can you do one thing for me?”

You open your eyes, your lashes suspiciously damp. “Anything. Yeah.”

Her smile doesn’t lose its sadness, but inexplicably there’s pride now, too, and love and confidence. “Believe me.”

“Believe … what?”

“You’re gonna be fine”, she says taking your hand in both of hers, squeezing it lightly. “It doesn’t feel like it, I know. But I also know you’re gonna be just fine. Take all the time you need, no need to rush yourself. You can’t force yourself to feel anything that isn’t there, yet. So. Just believe me, when I tell you you’re going to be fine. Okay?”

You’re not sure why you nod slowly, agreeing. Maybe it’s because you’re tired and confused, or maybe it’s because it’s your mom. “Okay, Mom.”

She doesn’t leave until you’ve drifted off to sleep, her hand stroking your head and softly humming in the quiet of the room.

  oooo

   Her words snap you out of your dream-like state, at least at home. You start talking to your parents again, you even accompany them on some of their daily trips. The layer of ice you so carefully constructed around your heart starts thawing and while it lets you breathe more easily, it is also unforgiving in the intensity with which you start experiencing again.

Every text Gray and Ethan send is like a small cut from a short but sharp knife, the burning pain starting to pierce through the haze of numbness again.

You don’t manage to avoid them for long, and if you’re being honest, you’re not actually trying very hard. That’s how you end up at their place with your feet in the pool in order to cool down, one sunny afternoon no more than a week later.

Gray is floating in the pool, canary-yellow shorts contrasting nicely with his golden-brown skin and dark sunglasses are perched on his nose. You’re looking at him contemplating – he’s very attractive, actually. You never really noticed, Gray always being too much of a brother to you for your thoughts wandering in that direction, but now that you’re actually looking it is blatantly obvious. He’s going to make a girl very happy, one day. And you’re absolutely going to skin her, should she ever hurt him.

That’s when Ethan steps out of the house, a cool drink in one hand, his phone in the other. He’s wearing shorts and a black t-shirt that reveals his collarbones. He has his sunglasses pushed up into his hair, only a few stray curls making their way into his face now. In comparison to Gray, Ethan is quite pale, you realize. He probably is a tiny fraction smaller than Gray – to be honest, though, Gray’s arms are bordering on insane, so that doesn’t really mean anything at all.

It’s no use anyway, even if Ethan never worked out again or started wearing his grandpa’s clothes, he would probably still be the most attractive human being you can imagine.

He chooses exactly that moment to look up, his eyes tangling with yours, holding you there. Until he opens his mouth. “I need to pick up Ana in half an hour, don’t let me forget.”

You push down whatever emotion starts rising up inside of you, force it down until your fingertips start prickling, and turn back around to look at Gray lazily paddling towards you until he can grab your ankle and use it as an anchor.

“Why? Can’t you remember your own girlfriend for more than a few minutes?”, he teases and rolls his eyes. His fingers slung around your ankle squeeze you for half a second, so quickly you might have imagined it.

“Like you’d know anything about it, Mr-hasn’t-had-a-girlfriend-in-years”, Ethan retorts and drops down onto the lounger stood to your right. You can actually feel his gaze settling on where Gray holds onto you. There’s a pause. Then: “You know, if you guys were … well … you know … you know. You would tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Your heart is somewhere in your throat and you can’t find the words to reply to that. Gray doesn’t seem to realize Ethan is talking to him for a long moment, before he starts furrowing his brow and lifts his head slowly. He pushes his sunglasses up to frown at Ethan.

“What?”

“I mean, like”, Ethan stammers blushing, shrugs defensively and gestures to your ankle and Gray’s hand. “Wouldn’t be that improbable, would it? You two have been pretty close for a few months now, like … you can’t blame me asking, okay?”

Gray stares at him disbelievingly, the frown only deepening on his face, but his grip around your ankle never loosens.

“We’re not … I’m not in a relationship, right now”, you manage to get out.

“Yeah, c’mon E, we’d tell you”, Gray scoffs settling his head back down and putting on his sunglasses again.

“Oh, right, I forgot”, Ethan mumbles, but this time there’s something underlying his voice. Yes, there’s definitely judgment in his voice. You can actually see Gray’s eyes widening and flickering to your face as if to check, whether you picked up on it.

As if anyone could’ve missed that. “Excuse me?”

Ethan looks up from his phone and shrugs, like he never said anything.

“No, really. What do you mean by that?”, you insist, pull your feet out of the water and turn around fully to face Ethan. “What did you forget?”

Ethan sighs as if you’re being unreasonable, which riles you up even more. “I just… It’s nothing. You were having a good time at Uni last semester, yeah? Nothing wrong with that.”

“Yes”, you say slowly, clearly. “I agree. There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything for a moment, before his shoulders droop a little and he scoots to the foot of the lounger, close enough for you to be almost sitting between his spread legs now. He bites his lip, visibly uncertain which words to choose. “Look. I really didn’t mean to be judgmental or anything. I promise. I just… I think you could do much better, y’know? Like, why don’t you look for a potential boyfriend? All those different guys, they … well, it doesn’t fit. Just doesn’t suit you.”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that barks out of you at his words. “Yeah, right. Like there’s any decent guy who would want me.”

Ethan frowns. “What? I mean, I’m sure there’d be a few. Maybe not if you, you know, go out with a different guy every night … y’know, that might be an issue, but – “

“Wait a minute. I don’t sleep with them”, you protest. His head snaps up, genuine surprise in his eyes and it makes you scramble to your feet, away from him. “You really think I’d sleep all of those sleazy… any of those guys?” Ethan shrugs, looking a bit lost. “I go out. I drink and I dance. And yes, maybe I’ll dance with the next best guy and maybe I’ll even let him kiss me, just so I can forget for one fucking minute — not that that’s any of your business. But I don’t just sleep with random guys and you should know that. You should know me.”

Ethan has his forehead pulled into a confused frown, his head tilted slightly as he looks at you. Gray, still in the pool, seems to have completely frozen, his eyes wide and round as they spring from you to Ethan and back. He looks like he’s witnessing a car crash, frozen in place and unable to look away or prevent it from happening in the first place.

“Forget… what?”, Ethan asks slowly, realization dawning. “Is it still that mysterious guy you were so fucked up over?”

You don’t say anything, your feet rooted to the ground firmly, even when everything inside of you is screaming at you to run as far and fast as you can. Ethan looks at Grayson for confirmation, but Gray just stares back at him, latent panic creeping up in his eyes.

“It is, isn’t it? God, I’m gonna fucking punch this guy”, Ethan growls and stands up, too. “If you don’t tell me who it is now, Gray, I swear to god … “

Gray seems to finally be able to move again, and he scrambles to pull himself out of the pool. Then he stands there awkwardly. Dripping wet and half naked, between Ethan and you, his mouth opening and closing without a single word coming out.

“Gray”, Ethan says slowly, warningly, frowning again when Gray starts looking back and forth between him and you, like he’s following some sort of invisible tennis game. “You told me, we know him. He must be from here somewhere, just fucking tell me.”

“It’s … “, Gray starts slowly. You can only stare back at him, when Gray looks at you pleadingly, like he’s asking for guidance. Or permission. Panic paralyses your whole body now, you’re almost sure even your heart has stopped beating.

No, no, no. He can’t tell Ethan, he can’t.

But then why does it feel like you’re suffocating? Why does it feel like you’re just about to break through the surface of the cold water you’ve been trapped in for an eternity, and you’re choosing to stay underwater?

“It’s…”, Gray starts again. He hesitates for another second, then he takes a step towards you and takes your hand. “It’s me.”

“It’s – what?”, Ethan repeats.

You’re unable to move when Gray slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in, water and chlorine soaking your clothes. He presses a hesitant kiss to your cheek and, funnily enough, it doesn’t even feel all that wrong. Sweet and platonic, just like Gray. “You were right before. We just didn’t want to tell you, because …”

Ethan stares at the both of you in confusion, crossing his arms in disbelief. “So… you cheated on Gray consistently throughout this past semester, then? Kissing and dancing with all those … guys?”

You don’t know what to say. To any of it. To either of them. There are too many thoughts running through your head at head-spinning speed, too much emotion bubbling up inside for you to be able to name a single one of them. Your breathing is too quick, too shallow. No matter how desperately you pump air into your lungs, you can’t seem to actually get any oxygen.

“Uhm”, Gray stammers. “That… nah, we were on a break. Right? Just a break. But now we worked it out and … well … right?”

Ethan looks at you, waiting for your confirmation.

And you still can’t breathe. You can’t fucking breathe.

“It’s you.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but you can’t bring yourself to be sorry either. Although you barely more than whispered it, you know they both heard it. Gray lets out a huge breath next to you, his whole body going from fully tense to slumped. You stare into Ethan’s eyes, you can see the honest shock in them, and you can’t look away. “It was you. But you have Ana and I … don’t. So.”

Ethan’s mouth is hanging open and he blinks slowly, clearly struggling to grasp your words.

But it’s not as scary as you thought. You don’t even feel naked or exposed, it just feels like you finally ripped through the chains slowly suffocating you, squeezing all the air out of your lungs until you couldn’t move anymore. For the first time in months you feel at peace. You’re pretty sure you just ruined whatever kind of friendship was still left between you and Ethan, but then you had never really wanted friendship, had you? As long as you get to keep Gray in your life, you’ll be able to move on, now. Finally.

“I – I’ll go”, you mumble, turning away from Ethan and stroking Gray’s arm with a smile. You take a deep breath and it’s so freeing, your smile is almost genuine. “Thank you.”

Gray just looks at you and nods, his mouth pulled down in worry. “I’ll text you.”

You nod, before half turning around to Ethan, still stood on the same spot, unmoving. “Good bye, Ethan.”

“I – but – “, he stammers, shaking his head slowly.

“Forget it”, you interrupt him before he can say anything that’ll make you hurt again. You turn around once more when you’re at the door. Gray is looking at Ethan worriedly, while Ethan is staring at you looking like a lost puppy. Like he’s waiting for you to tell him, it’s all a joke. The smile that lifts one of the corners of your mouth tastes bitter. “It’s stupid anyway, right? You would never … not me … I could never be …”

You give up trying to end that sentence. With one last defeated shrug you duck through the doorway and leave so quickly, you’re not entirely sure how you made it home without crashing the car. As exhausted as you are, you fall asleep immediately when your head hits the pillow, even though it’s not even five in the afternoon.

You don’t dream at all, but then again, you haven’t dreamt for months now. What is there be to dream about, anyway?

My Masterlist

#ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan #dolan twins #dolan twins imagine #Fine #Numb #hurt #no happy ending #fanfiction #imagine #reader #my fic

[yoon-ing]

Thin Line (m)

Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

It doesn’t take a big step to cross over a fine line.

Crimson red tints your cheeks, embarrassment your shade of blush for the night as you sit on the floor with a group of friends (and a so-call friend who has just outed your crush to the entire group), playing a game of Truth and Dare that has your skin on fire at the hand of Park Jimin who decides it’s his duty as your best friend to announce the name of your crush, who also happens to be your roommate and also happens to be sitting directly beside you.

“You’re supposed to say your crush,” you snare through your teeth at the boy who sits across from you, his eyes glazed with intoxication and arched with the stupid smile that’s on his face. It’s Jimin’s turn, choosing Truth after having to lick the underside of Taehyung’s foot sprinkled with hot sauce in the last round. ‘Who’s your crush?’ was blurted out as the first instinct of any Truth or Dare player, having all eyes on him, until his words are directing everyone’s attention to you.

“I don’t have one!” he says defensively. “So, I said yours!” is his pathetic attempt at an excuse and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“That’s not how it works!” you respond with your jaw clenching, hands balling into fists.

“Oh, why so defensive, Y/N?” Jungkook teases, “I guess it’s true.”

“Shut up Jeon,” you shoot at him, glaring in his direction for a moment before returning your death stare to Jimin.

“Yoongi’s a cool guy! What’s so wrong about crushing on him!” Jimin is just making it worse at this point and all you wish is that your physical existence in time and space would evaporate into nothing more than particles in the atmosphere, sparing you from the embarrassment and teasing that pursues, your drunkards of friends having a little too much fun, and definitely too much to drink.

“Y/N and Yoongi sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g” is being chanted and you can’t believe your pinkened ears because you’ve defied all laws of physics and have literally just discovered time travel, being sent back to middle school where you’re surround by immature little pricks, making a big deal just because you like a boy.

“I’m going home,” you mumble, taking one last, long swig of tequila before pushing yourself off the floor and haphazardly making it to your feet, the alcohol hitting you hard once your feet are the only part of you planted on the floor after spending the better half of the night sat on your ass.

Yoongi is quick to stand, not a drop of alcohol in his system because of his car out front, and he steadies your swaying figure.

You try to pull away from him, waving him off as you (unsuccessfully) try to convince him you’ll be okay on your own, not needing this small interaction to be more ammunition for the group of idiots still sprawled out on the floor.

“I’m your ride home,” he says when you tell him to sit back down.

And the ‘Ohhh, Y/N and Yoongi are going home together’ is met with the finger as your only response before you turn on your heel and walk, or rather stumble, away.

The burning on your skin has definitely sobered you up enough to think somewhat clearly, although your body lags behind and physically you’re pretty disorientated, and the embarrassment is suffocating, especially now that you and Yoongi are alone.

He laughs it off when you profusely apologize for Jimin’s behaviour, insisting that he was too drunk to even know what was coming out of his mouth, and that his words hold no truth.

“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Yoongi says half way through the drive, probably unable to put up with the apologizes that spew from your mouth. A ruffle of your hair has your lips smacking shut, you feel like a child, especially after tonight’s events and you can feel your heart cracking into pieces as if the universe herself has taken a chisel to it, letting you know that you’re nothing more than a kid to Yoongi, someone he likes to tease and poke fun at, someone who won’t have his heart the way he does yours.

//

The patterned fleece blankets and poster cluttered walls tell you you’re in your room, tucked into your own bed, where you must have spent the night, but the throbbing headache that pounds your skull from the inside out doesn’t tell you how you got here. Your memory is in shatters with edges so sharp that the only thing you can feel is splitting pain in the place of your mind; you wish you can say last night is a blur, but it’s not even that, holding no place in your recollection of yesterday and it is as non-existent as your phone seems to be at the moment. Your arms flail beneath the sheets in search of the device and you’re like a butterfly fluttering about, trying to break out of your cocoon looking for freedom, except it’s your blanket that has you trapped and you’re not nearly as graceful as nature’s bursts of colour.

Hooking your chin over the edge of the mattress, sweet victory rings in your ears in the form of muffled buzzing, paired with the dim light of an LED screen coming from beneath the thin sweatshirt you must have discarded on the floor at some point during the night. Snatching up your phone, you’re met with a number of notifications, namely from Jimin and worry sweeps across your features as your thumb sweeps across the unlock button. There are over ten messages from him, some still coming in as you pull up your conversation with him, scrolling up to where you last responded and you hope that his words will give you some insight to last night’s events because you’re blind to what happened between dinner and right now.

Jimin Park that ass [12:47pm]

Y/N

hey

im so sorry

i didn’t mean to say anything last night

i was drunk and wasn’t thinking

when am i ever thinking??

god

i feel like such a jackass

i should’ve kept my mouth shut

it wasnt my secret to tell

im sorry, i hope i didn’t fuck everything up for you

please tell me what i can do to make it up to you

i’ll do anything i swear

Insight is the opposite of what you get because these texts just make you more confused. Why is Jimin apologizing? What did he do to be sorry for? You two have been friends for so long that there’s hardly anything you can do to offend each other, or so you think.

The next message rolls in and everything is clicking, your brain moving like clockwork as everything comes back into place and your memory is clearer than day on a sunny morning.

Jimin Park that ass [12:48pm]

if you want me to talk to Yoongi and tell him i was just kidding whne i said you have a crush on him ill do it, i’ll convince him its not true

It’s as if you hadn’t even drunk last night, your memory sharper than ever with the scene replaying in your mind, the reel rewinding and playing over and over again, taunting you in your embarrassment and dread.

Yoongi knows you like him. Yoongi knows you like him. Min fuckin’ Yoongi knows that you like him.

It’s the only thought that goes through your brain, unable to process anything else because oh my god Min Yoongi knows, he knows!

You decide you’ll deal with Jimin later, suppressing all violent urges to march over to his house and ring his neck like a rag, and instead you simply hold down the power button on your phone until the device shuts down. The phone is released from your hand, landing with a loud thud on the floor, unable to care at this point and you let your eyelids flutter shut, taking a deep breath in an attempt to rid yourself of the tension that is pinching every single one of your nerve endings. Breathe in, breathe out, you tell yourself, but your body tenses and the next thing you know, you’re burying your face in a pillow to muffle the scream that you’re belting out of your lungs; your arms and legs flail around like a fish out of water and you kick your blankets about in a fit of frustration and desperation. The screaming comes to an end and you’re sure the pillow didn’t do much to conceal the sound that reverberates throughout the apartment, but you don’t really care that anyone within the vicinity of the building probably heard you because it’s only Yoongi who you’re self-conscious around and after the whole secretly crushing on him, then not so secretly crushing on him, nothing else really matters.

Laying in bed aimlessly screaming into the void won’t do anything to help your case, so you decide to bite the bullet, face Yoongi once and for all because you’re going to have to eventually, you can’t live your life hiding from your roommate. And who knows, maybe he doesn’t even remember the conversation, or rather, Jimin spewing unfiltered words to no one in particular. Who are you kidding? Of course he remembers. He wasn’t drunk and he isn’t dumb. He knows the truth and there’s nothing you can do to change that.

Creeping out of your room like a burglar in your own home, you keep on your toes, listening for any signs of Yoongi, trying to locate him before making any rash decisions. Biting the bullet quickly turns into trying your best to stay out of sight as you peep down the hall to see his bedroom door is left half open, the way he has it when he’s not inside and you mentally cross off his room from the list in your head of places to avoid. Your eyes travel to the bathroom, but the light is off and there’s no running water to be heard; bathroom: clear. The tension rises as you move further down the hall, sneaking towards the common living space where he’s most likely to be if not in his room, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your own ears, the reality of all of this crashing down as you think of what you’ll possibly say to him when you see him. ‘Sorry’? Or maybe ‘Haha fooled you’. Or even better, you won’t say a word, the both of you pretending nothing happened as you slowly drift apart until the inevitable day comes when you no longer speak, and you are freed from the lease of the apartment and you can move to the other side of the world where you won’t need to worry anymore.

The creaking floorboard beneath your foot brings your attention back to the task at hand and you freeze in your spot, hoping you haven’t been caught. There’s no call of your name or wary ‘who’s there’, and now that you think about it, there’s no other sound other than your shallow breathes and you realize that it’s much too quiet for Yoongi to even be home. This gives you the courage to move faster as you poke your head into the living room, finding the TV off and the couch untouched; whipping your attention to the kitchen, the only sign of life even passing through the space is a coffee mug left on the counter. You visibly relax when the still room confirms Yoongi is no where to be found and your stiff muscles are loosening in relief; at least this will buy you some time to figure out what you can possibly do to remedy the situation.

Your steps are less calculated and your demeanor less apprehensive; you can finally walk through your home as if you own the place, because well, you do. The fridge is where you head to first, grabbing a glass of water to cure the dehydration you’re sure is plaguing your body from the amount of alcohol consumed the night before. Next on your To-Do list is shower, you just want to wash away the filth you feel from last night and you hope that the mess that clouds your mind will be able to rise with the steam, clearing your head so you can spend a moment in peace.

Your moment of peace doesn’t last long once you’ve wiped away the fog from the mirror and you’re returning to your room to throw on an oversized sweater. It’s when you’re already one step from the kitchen that you hear keys jingle at the door, the lock clicks and panic crawls your skin; you’re trapped like a deer frozen in headlights and maybe if you run you can make it back to your room before he steps inside, but your brain and body forget how to function and you’ve gone from a deer in highlights to a deer plucked right out of its habitat because acting natural is the last thing you’re doing right now.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow when he catches you scampering around like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing and a forced smile is all you can muster in return.

“Um, hi?” he says once he’s stepped into the apartment, throwing his keys aside and toeing his shoes off.

He has a plastic bag in his hand but you can hardly pay attention to that because you’re dumbstruck by his simple attire of black jeans and a plain white tee, the clothing adorning his body in a way that makes him look like he just walked out of a magazine and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on his collar bones that poke out from his loose shirt. Your gaze continues to trace his every feature, working your way up to take note of the cap you bought him last Christmas that has his dark hair pushed back, allowing his brows that are normally hidden behind bangs to nicely frame his face. It’s like you’re in a trance until the naturally pouted lips that have you completely captivated are moving to form words that you don’t quite catch and you shake yourself out of the daze to focus on what he has to say.

“You okay there?” Yoongi asks with the slightest hint of amusement hidden in the arch of his brow.

“I- uh, yeah,” you manage to say, still not completely back to your senses.

“Are you sure? Because you were staring,” he casually mentions as he strolls into the kitchen and places the bag down on the counter.

“No I wasn’t,” you say back too quickly and you mentally slap yourself.

“A little shy, aren’t we?” His tone makes him seem cocky and the lop-sided smile makes it even more so.

Your at a loss for words because although Yoongi’s smugness hardly ever comes as a surprise to you, it has never been aimed directly at you and your mind is in a frenzy as you try to comprehend what’s happening.

“It’s alright,” Yoongi begins when you leave him without a response, “it’s normal to get shy around your crush.” He finishes his sentence with a wink that leaves you gawking at him because never would you have expected Yoongi to be so bold in his actions, playing with your feelings so thoughtlessly.

“Since when were you a douche bag?” is the first sentence you’re able to form since Yoongi stepped through the door, and it’s a damn good one because what has gotten into Yoongi? You’d expect this behaviour from other members of the male species, but not from Yoongi; he’s a close friend, close enough to know which lines not to cross and which buttons not to push. But today something seems to be malfunctioning and you think you need to hire a repair man to fix your friend or maybe you can just get a new one all together.

“Aw, Y/N, I’m just teasing, there’s no need to get upset.”

His words only infuriate you further and you channel all of your anger into your clenched fists, clamping your lips shut to keep you from lashing back and you decide to be the bigger person as you turn on your heel and storm off towards your bedroom.

You don’t make it over the threshold in time to relax and Yoongi is just half a step behind you, calling out to you as you rush through the doorway.

Spinning around to face him, you can’t keep your cool any longer. “Leave me alone, I hate you!” you blurt out, childlike in your manner as you attempt to slam the door shut almost as if you’re a kid all over again and you’re throwing a fit over some silly mishap.

But Yoongi’s reflexes are fast and his hand shoots up in time to halt the door in its tracks, pushing it back open to be face to face with you.

“There’s a thin line between hate and love, darling,” he remarks with a voice as soft as velvet, the words rolling off his tongue so smoothly. You catch the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk before he leans in close, bringing his lips to your ear to say his next words. “And there’s a thin wall between our rooms.”

You can feel your face drain of all colour at the insinuation while simultaneously setting your skin on fire in utter embarrassment and it feels as if your flesh is wax melting off onto the floorboards, seeping into the cracks how you wish you could. The smugness is thick in his voice and it’s clear that he means exactly what you think; your little secret isn’t so secret anymore.

He pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze intimidating but captivating all at once and you can’t bring yourself to look away. “You really thought I didn’t know? Every little sound, every moan, every time you called out my name – I heard it all, Y/N. It was torture sitting there in my room listening to you touch yourself when it could’ve been me touching you instead.” He pauses, his eyes darkening at his next words. “Tell me, how many fingers did you have inside of you when you were imagining it was me?”

You’re at a loss for words, but what Yoongi has in mind doesn’t need any because instead of saying anymore, he’s leaning down low and tilting your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss that you’ve only ever had in your dreams. Everything stops and you feel like a cliché in a teenage movie; you’re frozen in time and space and the only thing that matters is here and now, you and Yoongi. It takes a moment for you to come back to your senses, realizing that this is actually happening, Yoongi is kissing you right now and you should probably kiss him back.

Snaking your arms around his neck for leverage, Yoongi groans into your mouth when you pull yourself closer to deepen the kiss and his hands automatically find their way around your waist to hold you flush against his body. Eagerness has your lips parting and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to let his tongue slip into your mouth, greedy to get a better taste of you and it’s messy and rushed but perfect in every way. Somehow his hat is on the floor and your fingers thread through his hair, his own fingers finding their way to the hem of your sweater to get under the material; his hands are cold against your flushed skin, heightening the sensation of each of his movements as he rubs and squeezes at your flesh, working his way to your ass.  His firm hand massages your bottom and you’re breaking the kiss to moan out in pleasure, your hips buck forward and you begin to grind on the bulge forming in his pants.

The sounds are like music to his ears, not muffled behind closed doors and drywall, but loud and clear as you whimper at his every touch and Yoongi thinks he can get used to this. He’s quick to pepper kisses along your neck, biting and gnawing in all the right places, anything to hear you whimpering and with every moan all that goes through his mind is ‘mine, mine, mine’. He wonders what other noises he can get you make and he’s greedy to find out as soon as possible, hooking his fingers under your sweater to pull the fleece over your head.

Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra beneath the fabric and he stares at you almost in disbelief. “You’ll be the death of me,” Yoongi breathes out, his eyes raking over every curve of your body until a flash of darkness crosses over them and they glaze over in desire.  It feels like an eternity with the way he’s looking at you, admiring you, before he’s attacking your lips, hungry for more and he takes a step forward, the two of you stumbling to the other side of the room. This kiss doesn’t last as long because you’re just as impatient as Yoongi and your roaming hands find their way to the hem of his shirt just as the back of your legs come in contact with the mattress and your knees buckle to fall back on the cushion. The eagerness has Yoongi practically ripping the shirt off of his own back before he climbs up on the bed, crawling on top of you as you pull yourself up the length of the bed. Lips lock and you’re chest to chest, skin to skin to finally feel Yoongi against you, touching you in ways you’ve only ever imagined.

Yearning for more, you’re no longer in control of your body when your hips begin to move against his, looking for any kind of relief from the aching desire deep within your core. The dry humping is short lived when Yoongi’s grip is pinning your hips to the mattress and his lips break away from yours to trail down your jaw, neck, and chest; licking and sucking every part of your exposed skin. The hand on your hip doesn’t hesitate to find its way to your panty clad cunt, and your mind almost goes blank when Yoongi’s thumb begins to massage your clit through the fabric. You’ve long ago soaked through the material and Yoongi can’t hide his satisfaction that has a hum leaving his lips once he’s face to face with the cotton that clings to your folds with your arousal.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whine out in the way you’ve done so many nights before.

His eyes flash up at you and you can see the way he’s riled up, desire flaring in his irises. “Say it again,” he says almost as a demand with his voice lowering and you don’t hesitate to whimper out his name when he’s puts more pressure on your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the bundle of nerves.

‘Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi,’ escapes your lips in between heavy breaths and the sound alone has him worked up almost as much as you although you’ve yet to lay a finger on him. Yoongi’s patience wears thinner and thinner with each moan of his name until it’s non-existent and he rids you of your panties in seconds, finally getting a look at your bare body in all its glory.

A single finger slides up your slit, collecting the juices that are already leaking out and all you want to do is shy away when Yoongi puts the digit in his mouth to get a taste, but his grip on your thigh keeps your legs open and exposed for him. He sucks it clean as if your arousal is the most delicious thing he has ever had the pleasure to taste on his tongue and the sight sends shivers down your spine; a lick of his lips and a flash of a smirk are the last things you see before his face is buried between your legs and you feel as if every tension in your body is being released. You gasp out at the sudden sensation of Yoongi’s mouth on your folds and your eyes screw shut while your fingers get tangled in his hair. He runs his tongue up and down your slit, getting lost in the taste until he stops at your clit, licking and sucking in a way that has you mewling beneath him. His fingers find their way to your entrance and there’s no more time for teasing because he pushes two in without warning and the stretch feels so good you’re tugging at Yoongi’s hair, pulling him closer if that’s even possible, before grinding into his face. This has him growling against you and the vibration mixed with the quick thrusting of his fingers almost has you losing it.

With a cry of his name, you’re clenching around nothing when he pulls his fingers out from your walls; his jaw slackens and tongue flattens, and he lets you ride out your high on his face, drowning him in your cum that he’s eager to lick up.

Exhaustion washes over you almost as hard as your orgasm did and you release your hold on Yoongi, your body going limp as your bones and muscles feel as if they are melting into the mattress. You fight off the forces that anchor your body, that’s more Jell-O than human, to the bed just enough to lift your head and find Yoongi peeking up at you. His rounded eyes make him look cute despite the aftermath of your climax smeared across his face and he looks so innocent it’s almost deceiving. Yoongi keeps his curious gaze locked on yours as he leans down and licks one big swipe up your slit, mischievousness creeping its way onto his face as you wriggle around at the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation.

“Yoongi, stoppppp,” you playfully whine, dragging out the syllables as he continues with kitten licks in between his lighthearted laughter. Your legs lock around his head in hopes of hampering his movement, but his fingertips poking at your sides in light tickles have you loosening your grip enough for him to move.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart,” he says, his voice losing all playfulness and going back to gruff and husky with an undertone of lust.

Yoongi sits up on his knees, lifting your legs with him and your ankles lock behind his neck as he manages to maneuver out of his pants.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking, desperate for attention that you’ll very gladly give it. He takes his member in his hand and you swallow hard as he slowly pumps it, watching as the bead of pre-cum drips from the tip and his thumb rolls it over his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you have a taste later,” Yoongi says smugly, and you have to forcefully break your stare away from his dick to meet his eyes. You’re all but drooling and with the way he stares at you with a cocky smirk pulling at his lips, you know your every thought is written across your face.

Having enough of the chit chat, Yoongi leans in closer with you legs still in the air, practically folding you in half, and if you knew you’d be testing your flexibility today, you definitely would have stretched before hand. Your legs rest on his shoulders and he groans in approval when he sees your cunt glistening for him once more; it’s not surprising that you’re wet already with all the filthy thoughts of his cock going straight to your core.

Yoongi’s breath comes out heavy when finally there’s contact between his tense member and your slick folds and he can no longer restrain himself, positioning his head at your entrance and giving you a moment’s notice before he’s slamming into you. It’s as if the wind has been knocked out of you and you grasp at the sheets to ground yourself because if you thought the stretch of his fingers was otherworldly, this sends you traveling through space and time to another dimension. There’s no holding back the cries of pleasure that pour from your lips when he begins to thrust and you yell out his name in ways you only wished you could every time you were tucked away between closed doors, fingers buried within yourself, calling out to him in a soundless whimper. But there’s no holding back for you or Yoongi, moaning out his name relentlessly as he responds in the form of grunts each time his hips collide with your skin, pounding into you like he’s a starved man and you’re his saving grace.

Your second orgasm comes as a tsunami, as if the ocean floor is cracking open and unleashing the sheer force of the natural disaster in the form of unmeasurable bliss. The sun and moon play tug of war with every gravitational pull and waves of pleasure surge through your body with each roll of his hips, leaving you to float off into oblivion as Yoongi chases his own high that has long pushed him over the edge, hardly grasping at reality when his seed fills you and slick, lewd sounds mix in between heavy breathes and uncontrolled moans.

Exhaustion hits you hard once the adrenaline dies down and Yoongi is practically dead weight curled around your body in a way that conveys so much innocence that it’s almost unbelievable that this is the same man that a few moments earlier was balls deep within you. His head rests on your breasts and the warm air that leaves his lips with each breath tickles your skin; the arm that is strewn carelessly across your hips tightens around you and you peer down to find Yoongi staring up at you.

“How long?” he asks after a moment of silently gazing at each other.

Your question of ‘how long what?’ is heard unsaid and he’s replying instantly.

“How long since you started touching yourself to the thought of me?”

The words sound vulgar now that your body has drained of all arousal and you’re returning to the shy mess you were earlier.

“Mmm,” you ponder for a moment with your lips pressed together; there’s really nothing to lose at this point. “A few months probably? Maybe more?” you say unsurely, but you’re not unsure at all, you remember very vividly when this began and you could tell him an exact date if he asked. “It was that day I accidentally… walked in on you naked.”

Except you didn’t really walk in on him, you more of ripped the sheets off of his bare body after barging into the room.

8:36. Shit. You slept through your alarms (stress on the ‘s’ because you set approximately 6 different alarms to avoid this exact situation). You bolt up from your bed that’s still scattered with notes from your late-night study session and flail around the room in a panic trying to collect your books and yourself. 8:41. You’ve managed to get semi-clean clothes on your body and a toothbrush in your mouth. Your school bag is slung over your shoulder and you burst into Yoongi’s room without a second thought. It’s a 10 minute drive to campus, Yoongi will take 6 minutes to get out of bed and make sense of your uncoherent squabbling, 1 minute for the elevator to get you to the garage where his car is parked; leaving you with 2 minutes to spare before exam papers are slapped down on your desk and the ‘no talking or you get a zero’ rule is implemented.

Still running numbers through your head, you frantically call out to Yoongi who is sound asleep while reaching for the blanket that has him tucked in. Your hand balls around the fabric and you tear it away from his sleeping form in one swift movement. One second you’re trying to figure out if you’ll make it to school in time to write your exam and the next, you’re staring point-blank at Yoongi’s erect cock.

Morning wood is no where close to being a new concept to you, it’s an odd, but natural occurrence that you came to terms with at some point between middle school and high school when you woke up next to your best friend, accusing him of being a pervert. But here and now? It’s a completely different situation. Yoongi, not only your roommate but also your long-term crush, can get you hot and bothered by just coming home sweaty after a workout. You’ve been able to suppress all the dirty thoughts that creep into your mind late at night, but naked Yoongi in your imagination is nothing close to naked Yoongi in real life. As much as you wish you could stand there and admire him in all his glory, the sight leaves you flustered, blushing violently when Yoongi startles awake and you apologize profusely, not looking back as you run out of the room.

You take an Uber to school and barely manage to make it through your exam without the image of Yoongi popping up in your mind every other question. You take the long way home, getting off the bus a few stops early to aimlessly walk through the park, stopping to buy coffee from the cozy shop on the corner, only returning home once you’re sure Yoongi is not there. That night, when the naughty images seep into your thoughts, you don’t have the willpower to deny it any longer and Yoongi’s name slips from your lips when your fingers slip into your walls.

“So I could’ve been listening to you moan my name for months?” Yoongi questions, shock and disappointment crossing his features all at once. “And here I thought I stumbled across a gold mine a few weeks ago when I heard you through the walls.”

Neither of you say anymore and the room falls silent save for the shallow breaths that have your chests rising and falling in sync. Yoongi stays wrapped around you and you begin to feel sleep heavy on your eyelids until he’s speaking again.

“How long?” he questions once again and confusion crosses your features because didn’t you just answer that question? “How long have you had this crush?” he clarifies.

This question, you’re not so quick to answer, feeling embarrassed and shy that he’s even bringing it up. It somehow feels more intimate than the last question and you weren’t planning to confess to him like this (you weren’t planning to confess to him at all if you’re being honest). It seems silly that your skin still flushes under the weight of his gaze after everything that just happened, but you can’t help it and you avert your eyes trying to collect your thoughts.

“I don’t know,” you mumble after a moment, needing to give him some sort of answer even if it’s inadequate and you’re positive he can hear the way your heart races in your chest, fluttering away with nerves and timidity.

Yoongi is perceptive and your silence on the matter is a clear indicator that this crush has been going on longer than you care to admit, not to mention the way your heart pounds beneath where his head rests, sounding like there’s a marching band making its rounds in your rib cage.

“Don’t tell me that not only could I have been listening to you moan out my name for months, but I also could’ve been dating you for months?” The question is rhetorical with the revelation of your well-kept secret and instantly, implications of his words have you dizzy with a million thoughts whirling around in your mind.

Before you can get any words out to ask for clarification, frantically searching your brain that’s a muddled mess for a coherent sentence, there’s a loud knock at the front door and you instantly freeze, the sudden intrusion startling you. Yoongi is thinking on the same wavelength as you when he stills, as if the slightest movement will tip off whoever’s at the door that you two are indeed home. The knocking persists and despite the blush that seems to permanently paint your skin pink, there is nothing in this world that can bring you to leave Yoongi’s arms.

‘Y/N!’ you hear being called and you groan for what feels like an eternity before reaching for Yoongi’s wrist to remove his arm from your waist.

Yoongi only resists, tightening his hold on you, “can’t we just pretend we’re not home?”

‘Y/N, open the door!’ Your best friend’s voice travels through the walls in between the pounding of his fist on the wood and you sincerely wish it was that simple.

“This is Jimin we’re talking about, he’s not going to leave,” you inform Yoongi, knowing your friend all too well.

“It’s not like he’ll know that we’re here,” Yoongi counters, trying to find anyway to convince you to stay here wrapped up in your own little world where you and he are the only thing that matters.

‘I know you’re in there! Y/N, please!’

You look at Yoongi pointedly, “I’m only ever at home or at his place, there’s no getting out of this.” And although you’ve made your point, you’re reluctant to leave the arms that you’ve spent countless hours day dreaming about.

“Okay, how about you get rid of him, and I draw us a bath?” he proposes with a soft smile finding its way to his lips.

They way he says ‘us’ has your heart going through another frenzied fit of fluttering and Yoongi chuckles at your reaction that you don’t even bother to hide. You squeak out a small ‘okay’ and the smile he gives you in return is breathtaking, heartwarming in the way his pearly whites and pink gums show nothing but pure joy.

Yoongi shifts to press the softest of kisses to the skin between your breasts and untangles his limbs from yours, “see you soon, doll face.”

He’s already on his feet, strolling out the door before he can witness the way you squirm in the sheets and if he wasn’t on the other side of a piece of drywall, you’d be squealing into a pillow in delight, feeling like you’re dancing on the clouds with the world at your feet.

Jimin all but drops to his knees when you swing the door open, begging for forgiveness as he apologizes over and over for his big mouth that causes nothing but trouble. You have to laugh at that because his big mouth has done quite the opposite this time around and you tell him you’re not mad, trying to convince him that you truly mean it and you usher him back out the door as you let him know you have something to tell him later. With a quick hug, you’re closing the door, a small ‘thank you’ slipping from your lips, leaving him to stare at you in confusion for the split second before the door clicks shut and you’re turning around to run back to Yoongi.

The small space is filled with steam and Yoongi greets you from the tub, already submerged in the hot water with bubbles foaming around his body. A smile breaks across his face when you enter the room and he holds out a hand, waiting for you to join him as you rid yourself of the sweater you threw on to answer the door. You take his hand and step into the tub, settling between his legs as warmth envelopes your body in the form of limbs and water and everything good.

Bubbles tickle your toes and it feels as if you’re melting in delight; your back is to Yoongi’s chest, your head lolled back to rest on his shoulder and he nuzzles your neck, peppering your skin with featherlight kisses. It’s all so surreal and if someone had told you yesterday that you’d be taking part in such affectionate activities with Yoongi, you would’ve laughed in their face at the absurdity. But as dreamlike as it may seem, the arms wound tightly around your waist are too secure to be an illusion wrapped up in your subconscious and the lips on your neck, the nibbles on your ear are too gentle, too soft, too wonderous and unimaginable to be something conceived within the confinements of your own mind. You’re living out your every dream and with the way Yoongi silently hums in content as he holds you close, tracing your skin, he’s living out his too.

#yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #suga smut #suga scenarios #bts smut #bts scenarios #min yoongi #min suga #i didnt get a chance to edit this so sorry for any mistakes!!! #oh gosh i dont know how this ended up 6k #i just wanted to write about yoongs #20

[the-tormented-writer]

Stories For Monday pt. 2/2

Catch up here: http://the-tormented-writer.tumblr.com/post/163922695701/stories-for-monday-pt-12

“About time you came back from fishing! I thought something had happened to- Steve?” Sam questioned looking back and forth between the two of you.

You clear your throat, “Oh yeah! Steve came down and decided he wanted to fish after all.” You quickly scan the room evading Sam’s disapproving expression.

“Really?” Natasha eyed Steve then over to you.

“Maybe that’s what the doctor ordered?” Scott spoke eagerly grabbing the cooler from your clammy hands, smiling and making his way towards your stove.

Sams eyes squinted at you then shifted to Steve. ‘What?’ You silently mouthed. You laid the rest of your belongings down against a closet door and went to Sam.

“What is that all about?” He took the fishing poles and yanked the blanket from your shoulders, grumbling looking over in Steves direction once more.

“What’s what? You can’t honestly think… Sammy, as much as that is every Steve Rogers fan dream- no. Hate to disappoint ya but it was just us talking and fishing.”

“Mm hmm. I’m on to you.” He pointed, resting his hands on his hips.

“You know me Sam, that tortured soul thing doesn’t work on me.” You turn to follow the others gathering in the kitchen.

“Yeah she seems more of the wounded animal type, if I had to guess.”

“Scott she literally was talking to me-”

“I know I know! If you want me to butt out just say so.” He puts up his hands in surrender.

——-

“Hey soldier…” Natasha smiled, leaning on the doorway into Steve’s room. “So what was going on with you and Y/n?”

Steve sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes, “Nat, I really-”

“No, I want to know. I mean, last time I heard you were sucking face with Agent-”

“Don’t go there. Y/n- She- it was nice. For a moment,” he looked up at Natasha. “All of this disappeared. I didn’t have to be on high alert, making sure others were safe and assessing possible threats. At that moment, time stood still. My thoughts were silent, I was calm and enjoying -”

“ ‘Enjoying’? Wow. Steve Rogers you might have a crush.”

“Yes to enjoying but no to the crush. Sorry Nat, you don’t win this round.”

Natasha entered his room, sitting at the foot of his bed, “Steve, you don’t have to be tough all the time, you know. You can let me in. You can let all of us in and help you carry what must feel like a burden to you. You’ve got me, Wanda, Sam… and I can’t believe I’m saying this- Scott. You’re not alone.” Steve glanced over her as she looked away from him, leaving her spot and walking back towards his doorway. “I’ve always told you that you were blind to a woman’s affections towards you. Y/n… she’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it but you’re different around her. We’ve all noticed it and these few weeks we’ve been here, she’s changed the total direction of our team.”

“Really now?”

“You might not want to admit it to yourself, you’re different yet the same all at once. As easily as I can put it- you’re Steve Rogers around her, not this Nomad-”

“Alright. I get it.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nat. If things were different.”

“But they’re not. Look at it this way, maybe we don’t go back to what life was before. Barton already proved that any of us can have a successful relationship, start a family-”

“Why would I want to do anything with anybody while I’m a fugitive? Sometimes I ask myself why did I make us leave Wakanda…”

“Because, you simply didn’t like it there. You don’t want others 'protecting you’ or 'hiding out’. This laying low thing was never for you. You want to be out where the action is. How do you put it- 'fighting the good fight’?. ”

“I’m done being okay with everything. I need to be able to scream! And- and hit things and flip tables" Steve sits up, nibbling the side of his cheek. Feeling like this was different like the world was on his shoulders and he was close to dropping it. He lets out a long exhale resting his arms on his knees. “But it’s what was working, I mean for one, Buckys safe.”

“True. Though on the other hand, and you may not admit it but you want to reconnect with Stark and the others as well. I know you, you always have that ancient flip phone on you incase he calls. You know I’ll back you no matter what you choose. Just think first.”

——–

“Hey- do you care for some company?”

You look up by the doorway to the study seeing Steve with his arm propped up on the door frame. “Uh yeah I’m due for a break anyway. I’ve been staring at this screen for far too long.” You lean back in your chair slowly spinning it to face him.

“So what are you writing about?”

“Oh well. That’s a loaded question.” You laugh suddenly feeling shy. You could not believe that Steve Rogers was interested in what you were writing. You had read how he enjoyed drawing but this felt different. “Let’s see. I’m writing about a girl,”

“Of course.”

“and a guy,”

“Naturally.” Steve licked his lips as his sparkling eyes met yours waiting patiently for you to continue.

“And they’ve got nothing in common. They meet unexpectedly actually.”

“Alright I’m listening.”

“Anyway umm… they become close as the story goes on and one thing leads to another and ..”

“And- ”

“it gets complicated, like most relationships do.” You unconsciously drum your fingers against the oak wood table. “I dunno you’ll have to read it when I’m done..”

“Complicated huh.”

“Yes.”

“Well answer me this, when it’s gets difficult for the two main characters what do they do, just give up?” He questions wondering if this was a writing from your own life experiences.

“Oh no. But like I said you’ll have to read it. I’ve just been having a touch of writers block and I’ve been wanting to atleast devote a few hours to it each day while I’m here.”

“Yeah..” Steve turns away from you as it hits him once more that you will be leaving him, them and the feeling of comfort you provided.

“Remember I don’t live here. I’ll have to go back in two weeks. Then I’ll be out of your hair.” You sigh smiling up at him. Steve looks down and his clasped hands. Your concern shifts observing his body language. “Are you ok? You look a little down. ” “No I - was just thinking how will we survive without your cooking.” You laugh as he joins in. He could not possibly burden you with his feelings for you and how he truly felt about you returning home.

“I’m sure you’ll all figure something out.” You say with no real conviction in your voice. The laughter between you dies down. You feel yourself being bought back to reality and the seriousness of his situation. “You know Steve, I know we aren’t close like you and the others..and I’m not really someone who… I just want you to know you can’t run forever, you know this right? At some point you’re going to have to pick yourself up and fight for what you believe in. Wether you end up fighting with or without your team.” You wait patiently for his response as he mulls over the shift in the conversation moving from weirdly awkward to serious.

“That’s what-”

“You’ve tried to do, I know. I also believe that Steve Rogers never backs away from a fight. So while you’re regrouping for the time being, keep that fire burning in your heart for what you stand for. What you’ve always stood for.” You smile and he nods, licking his lips. You let out a soft breath unsure what to say next, afraid the air between you would become stale. Then the most unexpected thing happened, Steve leans in towards you. You can see him drawing closer moving painstaking slow and cautious. You thought about what to do with your hands as Steve Rogers put his lips on yours. You were surprised beyond belief! He was gentle and smooth. His fingers sweep against your cheek, resting a hand on your thigh. Softly you rest your hand upon his shoulder. As you bliss out his motions become needy, he raises both hands to the sides of your face. Letting out a moan he pulls himself back, while you feel a rush of cold air on your moistened lips. When you finally opened your eyes he was gone.

——

“Steve?”

“Wanda.” Steve dries his hair with a towel, letting it rest on his shoulders. He thought taking time in the shower, away from you, would calm him. It just made it worse. His cheeks showed a faint blush embarrassed at the thought that Wanda had heard him in the shower relieving his tension.

“She likes you, you know. It’s like a warm tingling feeling she has spreading throughout her mind when she sees you.”

He took a deep breath, realizing what she was in his room for. Dropping his head he knew he would be unable to avoid the subject at hand. “Wanda I told Sam I- I can’t help it, she’s so-”

“Entrancing? Because that’s how you look. Like you’re under a spell.” She smiled, quickly bringing up her fingers to cover it.

“Trust me Wanda you don’t want to be in my head right now.” Steve chuckles, sorting through a pile for laundry.

“I know the others must see it too.”

“Wanda.”

“It began the night beside the lake you know, that’s when I first sensed it. I just thought you’d like to know.”

He rubbed his hair again, tossing the damp material to the side of his bed. “Thank you. I appreciate you looking out. I believe I’ve got a firm grasp on this, whatever it is and…” He trailed off, looking to the doorway yet Wanda was gone.

————-

You awake to a buzzing sound on your nightstand. Quietly you slide the drawer, containing your phone, open. It’s screen was blinding. You start to have butterflies rising up in your stomach touching the answer button. “Y/l/n, please tell me you’re done with that sacred book!”

“Charlie! How are you?”

“Are you sleeping on the job?”

“Hey it’s five in the morning, and you’re calling me for what exactly?!”

“Do you happen to still be locked up in that Amityville horror?”

“Calm your tits! Yes I’m still here.”

“I can’t calm what I don’t have! Remember You’re suppose to be returning in a few days, refreshed and raring to go!”

“Yeah I know, it’s just-”

“Just what? Arent you ready to rejoin civilization, sweetness?”

“Of course. Yeah.”

“Well I’m glad to hear it!”

“Yeah.” You sigh, “me too.” You begin fiddling with a corner of the bed sheet. You could picture him now, his tall lanky body bent over his desk looking over papers and scribbles of notes long since forgotten.

“Don’t sound so down and out, I’ll be coming out to rescue you Saturday-”

“What? uh…no!” You about drop your phone at his words, “That won’t be necessary!” You fight with your bed covers attempting to dislodge yourself from the mass. “I’ll just trek into town and go from there! No worries!”

“Nonsense! Come on! It’ll be like the good ol days- think of it, I’ll pick you up in my jet….”

“No! Really, I don’t need or want that attention. I like how quiet it is out here. Honestly I have gotten to be one with nature.”

“…Wine and dine you all the way back to New York. Huh? Maybe even throw in-”

“CHARLIE! Listen, ” you took a calming breath fighting the image of his stormy blue eyes and jet black hair. “I’m good. It’s been … interesting here.”

“Really, out in the wilderness?”

You could note the smirk in his voice, you knew him so well. “Yes. And I don’t want your obnoxious mouth and your aura out here.”

Aww I’m hurt sugar..you’ve never had a problem with my mouth before.“

You roll your eyes at the comment, walking around your room as softly as possible.

“Fine! have it your way.” He clears his throat placing a hand in his dress slacks pocket.

“Just let me meet you in town. Ok?” You plead, “you can’t see me but I’m giving you the puppy dog face.”

“Geez so defensive…So on to more important matters, you miss me?” Charlie rubbed his chin clicking his tongue.

“Somewhat..” you look at yourself in a mirror making a gagging face.

“That sounds like a 'yes’ and I’ll take it!”

“Sounds like a plan!” you exhale, tossing the phone into your covers.

“Ok I’ll see you then!” Charlie speaks with a laugh quieting it instantly when the figure who had been patiently waiting in the shadows stood, thrusting a briefcase full of money onto the dim lit desk.

——–

“So I wanted to let you all know, as much of a pleasure it’s been cooking, cleaning and being a mom for you all, sadly all good things must come to an end.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t you live out here?” Scott questions looking to Sam. Sam nods running two fingers up and down his wine glass, “That’s right. I knew you were acting weird. This means you must have finished your book?” leaning on his elbows his eyes shift to you .

“Ha..yeah… actually, I’m on the last chapter BUT my time here is coming to a close.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks looking from one end of the table to the other.

“God sis. Don’t say it’s Charlie.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Nat asks with a devilish wink.

Scott snaps his fingers, “Oh! Charlie from Charlie’s angels?! I love that movie!”

“My EDITOR, Charlie, Scott! What in the world-”

“ 'The porn on legs’ as she dubbed him the first time she saw him.” Sam huffs rolling his eyes.

“Oh is that so, Y/n?” Natasha lifts and eyebrow at you, you make eye contact with Steve with your mouth slightly agape, then turn towards the others unsure how to continue. “He’s coming to pick me up Saturday. Don’t worry, I’m meeting him in town. So you’ll still continue to have all the privacy you all need. AND your secret is safe with me.”

Wanda glanced over to Steve feeling waves of jealousy emitting from him. 'Are you going to tell her how you feel?’ she projects into his head while the others continue to tease you.

'She’s better off.’ He replies taking a drink, looking back at Wanda.

'Is she really or is that what you’re telling yourself?’

He swirls his drink around, placing it on the table. Suddenly he had lost his appetite.

“So we need to have a going away party right?” Scott changes the topic clapping his hands together.

“No it’s ok. It’s not every day a girl gets up close and personal with super heroes. No matter what Steve says, you all are great and I for one am thankful for everything you’ve done.” You raise your glass to toast the others over the pizzas spread over the dinning table.

———–

“Hey Natasha, is everything alright?” You stay seated at the edge of your bed looking over a few rough drafts.

“Yes, everything’s fine. Um, do you have a second?” She bites her lip rubbing her hands on her hips.

“Of course!” You say enthusiastically stacking the papers haphazardly on your nightstand.

“I wanted to talk to you about Steve.” Natasha takes a seat besides you while you watch her. “Oh, I’ll try my best. What’s going on? Is it about staying here? I mean you guys can stay here as long as needed. I only try to come out here twice a year to make sure everything’s working and hasn’t been damaged. But-”

“Relax it’s not that. You and Sam have been more than accommodating. It’s…He likes you and I think you like him too.”

“Nat-”

“You don’t have to say anything. I know. That and Wanda told me.”

You roll your eyes and Natasha giggles to herself how much you look like Sam. “I’d appreciate you not saying anything to Steve. I mean you’re right I do. But neither of us are in a good spot right now. I mean you guys are - and I am-” your arms flail a bit trying to come up with the words to describe what you were feeling.

“I understand.”

Your heart felt like it was breaking. “Thanks. So yeah, I gotta finish packing.” Looking away from her you get up and make your way towards the closet. It’s not everyday one would hear that someone such as Steve Rogers had taken an interest in little ol you.

“Of course.”

“Goodnight.”

Shortly after Natasha leaves you hear another knock at your door. You get up, placing an unlit cigarette behind your ear. Cracking the door you expect to see Natasha. Steve looks up at you with sad eyes, “Can I come in?” His words are soft and pulling at your heart. He scans the hall, “I need to talk to you.” He shoves his hands into his pockets feeling like a school boy. Unsure of what is happening your mouth drops at the surprise. “Yeah. Sure!” You slowly motion him to enter. You move to the side letting him pass cringing that your space was in such disarray.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah it’s just something’s I gotta get off my chest.” He states before shutting the door behind him.

——–

“Hey,” Sam waves leaving his other hand on the doorknob. “Steve, have you seen or heard from Y/n? She gets up at the same time every day.”

“Uh no actually.” He nervously clears his throat, pulling up his collar just abit hiding a hickey you left, “Maybe she’s down at the lake?”

“Hey her car is gone. Where would she go without any of us noticing?” Nat questions she begins looking around the kitchen.

“Calm down, I mean I agree but maybe there was a few things she needed to get before leaving.” Steve sighs continuing with his reading.

Scott walks towards the screen door headed to the dumpsters carrying an empty yellow box, “Yeah like restocking the eggos.” The others glare at him.

Sam shook his head feeling uneasiness wash over him. “No she would have told somebody. She knows how I get…”

“Hey, why is y/ns stuff out there by the lake?” Wanda squints taking in Steve’s nervousness. Her eyes glow using her telepathy, 'You were with her, weren’t you?’

'Wanda not now-’

'Did she say anything?’

'She was asleep when I left her room this morning.’ He thought while sipping his coffee.

“There’s more than one set of foot prints out here. Did I miss something?” Scott asks letting the screen door slam behind him.

Steve made his way to Wanda , “Can you sense her?”

“I can’t, she might be knocked out”

Steve is furious now. He knew the minute he let his guard down.. “How was someone up here and we miss it?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Y/n She’s a smart girl. She can handle herself.”

The rest of the group looked at one another. “Sam, when was Charlie suppose to pick her up?”

“That idiot? Tomorrow.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Well he’s an ex of hers and I pretty much hate him. But I’ll tell you one thing, he can’t fight himself out of a paper bag.”

“What If we’ve been found, Steve?” Natasha rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Ok. Let me think.” It had happened all over again, letting his emotions control his choices. Now a woman that he cared about had been possibly taken and it was all his fault.

“There’s only so many places in this town to go.” Sam whispered.

Wanda stands struggling to receive a clear image of you, “Steve-”

Sam begins plucking weapons hidden around the home, “Charlie has a private jet, so if he did take her, which I doubt-”

“Steve-"Wanda tries again getting cut off once more.

"He could have been a lure?” Wanda questions clearly unsure where to begin the search for you.

Scott sips some coffee moving towards the others, “But no one knows we are here”

Wanda yells, “Steve!” Clearly getting the attention of the others. She was afraid of loosing the familiar feeling of you attempting to reach out to her.

“WHAT IS IT?!” He yelled, resting his hands on the counter. Many emotions were rushing through him, he was close to boiling over. Just when he had let go of all his inhibitions with you last night, this proved he was never meant to be happy.

Wanda smiles faintly relieved that you are alive, “I think I’ve found her.”

——–

Your vision is spotty and everything hurts. You weakly move a hand to touch your throbbing head.

“Please y/n forgive me. You’ve got to forgive me.”

You try to turn your head in the direction of the voice. Pain shoots up your spine causing you to grit your teeth.

“Some men saying they were from some government FBI or homeland security- I don’t recall. They found you, they were coming …they said you wouldn’t be hurt as long as you and I …cooperate. They know about the lake house. That damn freaky ass house of yours. What have you got up there that they want? The money the promised me, babe. They only have given me half so far then the rest after this. I will be rich. We would be rich. I could hire those who would protect us, we’d never go through this again. There’s something in that house they want….”

You frown trying to shake yourself out of your daze attempting to remember the last thing you did. Steve. You were with Steve. You had been talking and he kissed you, passionately and hungrily. You blink as flashes play behind your eyes. His hands were roaming everywhere, your clothes thrown haphazardly around the room, his scent filling your senses.

“Earth to Y/n?! Can you get us out of here? Didn’t your brother teach you anything from his military days?”

Your eyes land on Charlie, wide eyed and covered in who knew. “Will I get used to being held captive? I never understood injured birds so well before”, he mumbled. His bottom lip was busted and a purple bruise was forming on his left eye. Tracks of dirt starting at his eyes trailing to his chin let you know at one point he had been crying.

"Where am I?” You manage to ask, groaning from being jostled about the space.

“We are in the back of a truck. I’m not sure how long. My two hundred dollar watch got damaged in the scuffle.”

You set your head against the side of the trailer, feeling it sway from side to side, listening to Charlie ramble on. You began worrying about Sam, Steve and the others, not knowing what would happen next. If this was about them, if they would get out and away before they were caught. You hear Charlie mention something about being bait before you pass out again.

——–

“Y/n- oh god.”

“What happened?”

“Sam- what’s going on?”

“ I don’t know. There’s so much blood?”

“Where is it coming from, Steve?”

“I don’t know? Sam?”

“Is it hers?”

“I DONT KNOW!”

“PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!”

“I think her legs have been broken.”

“Romanoff she’s not breathing!”

“What?”

“What did he say?!”

“Move!”

“Y/n! Breathe for me baby come on!”

“Fuck, no. She’s not dying like this. Sam-”

“No! You’re going to save her. She’s the only family I’ve got left so the hell with your rules and shit. You’re going to save her!”

Steve switched places with Sam while he did chest compressions on you. Your hands were beginning to feel clammy like that night on the lake.

“Don’t quit on me”, Steve whispers breathing into you. You cheeks fill and deflate with each of his breaths. He gets more irate with every unsuccessful attempt to revive you. “Fuck. I can’t just get a fucking break. Just one break!” That second he lands a punch to your chest you begin coughing. Your hands fly up to the first thing you can hold on to grounding yourself. Steve chuckles breathing heavily. He whispers into your hair, surrounding you with his body holding you tightly, “I can’t loose you, Y/n I just found you.”

You look up at him with a smile. Tears roll off his cheeks as he grins at you, “How could you think I would ever be ready to let you go?”

——–

“How long can we linger around here before people get suspicious?”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be alright. This is my fault -”

“If it’s anyone’s it’s mine. I didn’t know she was at the lake-”

“Stop blaming yourselves, Wanda’s trying to wake her.”

“Is that safe?”

“I just want to say goodbye.”

“We all do, but her body needs to heal. She’s been through a lot.”

“I know I can’t just sit here, Nat! I’ve got to do something.”

“You’ve got to calm down Steve!”

“We can’t tell her where we’ll go, that might put her in-”

“Look she’s my sister ok! You all mean a lot to me but she’s. She’s been with me through everything and I can’t loose her- not like this.”

“Sam- I. Y/n and I, we-”

“Man I don’t want to know about it-”

“You’ve gotta believe me I never intended-”

“I know. Hey You’re a good guy Steve and y/n’s a big girl, I trust you.” Steve shakes his head in understanding, while Wanda and Natasha can’t help but smile. “So what now?”

“You guys, she’s awake.”

——–

“Can we start from the beginning again? I really don’t remember much.”

“Where should we start?”

“Somewhere because I’ve got two broken legs, a black eye and a broken rib… or four.”

“I guess I’ll go first. Somewhere along the line someone tracked down your editor- Charlie. And got a bug in his ear by building up his ego with promises of money.”

“Honestly that’s not even surprising.”

“So with someone knowing where you were they put the two together tracking you then the rest of us.”

“That was quite a shot in the dark they took thinking that Sam would contact me.”

“Desperate times..”

“Who was it and what do they want?” I look around at the group as they avoid my sight.

“They wanted us, remember- fugitives?”

“Riiight.”

Steve breaks in the conversation grabbing your hand, “It no longer matters. What matters now is you get some rest.”

“But I’m worried about you guys. Where are you gonna go now since the lake house has been compromised? What are you gonna do in general! Who’s going to cook for you?!” Scott and Sam laugh. You try to sit up when Natasha and Sam push you back down onto the hospital bed.

“We can talk later, right now we need you to get better alright?”

You nodded thinking about all the questions you had that were going unanswered. Scott hugged you then Natasha. You could not rid yourself of the feeling that this was goodbye. Wanda nodded secretly telling you she’ll be keeping her thoughts open for you. Sam hugged you tightly rubbing your arms. “Sis I love you.” He kisses your cheek, “when I can-”

“When it’s safe, drop me a line this time.” You wink with your good eye.

“Will do.” He licked his lips smiling, dismissing himself with the others.

Steve bit his lip, hearing Wanda in his thoughts, ’ I’m releasing her mind, she needs to rest- without you.’ He shuffled his feet making his way to the side of your bed and picking at the fabric of your blankets.

“I feel like this is you- all of you, are saying goodbye?” You look at him, your eyesight begins to become hazy. “You don’t have to be strong around me, not anymore.” You choke out, wiping your tears before they leave your eyes.

He sighs wearing a steel expression “Y/n you don’t know. You almost. Sam almost lost you.”

You yawn feeling unusually tired. Your mind drifted to the whispers you had heard when they had found you. Steves voice drifting through your head. You look up at him, “Did you almost lose me, too?” He nods, leaning over you he kisses the top of your head, inhaling the smell of your hair. “I’ve lost so many, I couldn’t take- I’m in over my head with you and I really like you and I’m sorry about your ribs.”

“It’s ok. If it was nessary to keep me going, I trust your judgement .” You blink, feeling groggy. “My bones will heal. Everything will be fine.” You run your hands against his check. He holds it kissing it gingerly. As your eyes become heavier, you feel someone tuck the covers around your body. Steve places your hand beside you, when you turn to look at him one last time. “Steve don’t leave please?”

He closes his eyes briefly before facing you. This was already hard enough for him. Hadn’t he put you through enough? You almost died for him.

“Stay.. just for a while.”

He looks around the room before pulling up a chair.

“So you won’t need me anymore?”

“Oh y/n, I’ll always need you.” He feels the familiar chest tighten, forcing himself to stay strong for you, he exhales long and loud. “Go ahead and rest. I’ll stay as long as I can.” He holds your hand in his. The warmth traveled up your arm as the lull of the machines in your room sent you to sleep.

——–

You push open the front door of the Lake house, using your new cane to assist yourself through the doorway of the lake house. You were hoping to be welcomed with open arms at your arrival but you knew better. The house looked empty, everything back in its proper place. Your expression fell slowly making your way throughout the vacant rooms one by one. You finally come up on the study, noticing a nicely folded paper resting on your desk. When you move to sit, a hiss escapes your mouth feeling pain from your healing ribs. You prop your cane against the desk, gliding the pads of your fingers across the front of it. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth while eagerly you begin tearing at the envelope. You unfold the letter, laying down in front of you.

Y/n,

Words cannot express how much your kindness meant to us. You have kept us together not only as a team but as a family. Our bond is now stronger than before and with our new found strength we must go on and face the trials that lay before us now. To put your mind at ease, we have a place to go. It may not be filled with the caring and compassionate atmosphere that you provided but it will do and we will be safe.

You gave up so much- including your life, to protect our own. There is nothing that I can do to repay you for that undeserving sacrifice. You’ve taught me so much and I wish we had more time. I wanted you to get to know the real me. But I could never live with myself if I put your life in jeopardy again.

I hope you don’t mind but I read your novel, Stories For Monday. It’s pretty good, and I really liked the ending. I hope you’ll sign a copy of it for me- in person, one day.

Till we meet again-

Steve.

———–

T'Challa walks out to greet Steve and the others, keeping along the landing strip.

“Your timing is impeccable, I trust you accomplished what you set out to do in the states?”

“Not really but that’s a conversation for another time. I received your message, Where is he?”

“Barnes is fine. He’s been awake for a day or two and has been well fitted with an vibranium replacement. Clint Barton has come in seeking refuge as well.”

“Really?”

“Apparently you all weren’t the only ones targeted. We have a lot to discuss you and I. There has been a new threat detected…”

#avengers #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #poc reader insert #sam wilson #scott lang #wanda maximoff

[dragonasheswrites-blog]

The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 11: In Which Dinner is Delivered

...To a very hungry and very confused ambassador.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 10: The Trouble With Letting Go

Next: Chapter 12: In Which Leaves are Crunched

Click here for the story overview.

Sans scrubbed at his bowl, giving a little grin when the cheese sauce came off without too much fuss.  That had been his mistake the first time they made mac ‘n cheese: he’d left the dishes for later, and had wound up getting in trouble with Boss when the sauce took too long to scrub off.

As long as he didn’t think about how much work he was doing it wasn’t too bad, really.  Attie usually followed him around everywhere and insisted on helping, so he didn’t have to do everything himself, either.

“Dry,” he said, handing the bowl off to his helper.  She took it from him, tongue between her teeth, and carefully rubbed a dry dish towel over it.

“Done!” she declared, placing it with over-exaggerated care on top of a small stack of other dishes.  “Can I wash the silverware?”

“Sure,” he said.  He peeled off his rubber gloves (he’d found out the hard way that food, water, and bones don’t mix well) and handed them over.  Attie swapped her towel for the gloves and carefully put them on, stretching her tiny fingers as far as she could into them.

The gloves went up to her elbows and were far too big for her hands, but there wasn’t much she could do to hurt the silverware.  She awkwardly fished a pair of spoons out of the dishwater, rubbed a dishcloth over them until the cheese sauce was gone, and tried to hand them to Sans.

“Rinse ‘em off,” he reminded her.

“Oh!  Right!”  She turned on the water and rinsed them off before handing them back to him for drying.

The little girl bounced impatiently on her toes, splattering tiny droplets of soap water across the kitchen, as Sans put the dry dishes away.  He looked at her for a long moment, tilting his head from one side to the other and tapping his jawbone.

“Ooookay.  I guess we’re done.”

“YAY!!!” The gloves flew off and landed on the floor halfway across the kitchen.  He retrieved them and tossed them back into the sink, listening for the telltale pitter-patter of feet that announced Attie’s presence.

She slid precariously into the dining room and scrambled onto the chair she’d claimed as hers, phone clutched in both hands.  “I can call Mommy now, right?”

“Sure.  But only for a few minutes; you’ve got more homework to do.”

“But it’s Friiiiiday!”

“Yeah, ‘n that means it’s the last day of school for the week.  But remember what Undie said: if you don’t finish on Friiiiiday, you have to do schoolwork on Saaaaaturday.”

Attie groaned in a way Sans knew wasn’t truly serious and dialled.  Her little feet kicked back and forth as she waited.

Her entire body crumpled after a moment, and Sans felt his own mood sink as well.  “She’s not picking up,” Attie said.

“She’s probably asleep again.  She needs lots of rest, remember?”

“Yeah.  But she was awake and talking to me earlier!”

“She sure was, but she might be tired again.  Remember when you woke up in the middle of the night a few days ago?  You went back to sleep after, right?”

“Yeah, but that was the middle of the night .  It’s the middle of the day right now.  Why is Mommy sleeping so much in the middle of the day?”

“You tell me.”

She sighed.  “Because she’s still sick after what the assassin lady did and she needs to sleep so she can heal up all nice and healthy.  That’s what you told me.  I still think she would heal faster if she was awake, though.”

“Do ya, now.”

“Yes.  Also, then I could go see her.”

“Well, let’s finish up the last bit o’ this schoolwork.  I’ll text her like always so she doesn’t worry; I’m sure she’ll text or call or somethin’ when she wakes up.  Okay?”

“Okaaaaay.”

The rest of the school day dragged by for Sans.  It wasn’t so much that the schoolwork was boring (at least, not any more than usual), but that Attie seemed to be entirely unable to focus.  Sans could empathize.  It seemed like a small eternity before she dragged out her paper and pencils and began to half-heartedly scribble some kind of picture for her art project.

Then Sans’s phone vibrated.

“Is it Mommy?”  Attie asked, nearly tripping over her chair in her mad dash for Sans’s seat at the table.

“Woah - hang on there, kid!  Gimme a sec.”  They both stared intently at the phone as the messaging app loaded.  Sure enough, the screen read:

Frisky Dreamer 4:45 PM Sorry I fell asleep.  Didn’t realize I was so tired.

The noise Attie made had his skull ringing.  “Okay, okay, settle down, alright?”

“MY MOMMY’S AWAKE!!!”

“Yeah.  Now do you wanna text her back or should I?”

“We both can!”

Sans sighed.

You 4:49 PM No problem I know the feeling

Frisky Dreamer 4:51 PM Is Attie there?  Is she okay? Oh.  Never mind.  She just texted me.

“Mommy wants to know if we’re both okay!”  Attie said.  “Can I take a picture of you?”

Sans hesitated.  He was absolutely certain that Frisk didn’t want anything to do with him.  “Uh, why don’t I just take a picture of you and send it to her?”

The kid rolled her eyes.  “Because she asked about both of us.  That means we have to send a picture of both of us.”

“Well, you’re outta luck; my phone doesn’t have one of those little cameras on the front.”

“That’s okay!  Mine does!”  She began scrambling up onto Sans’s chair, hampered by the fact that she couldn’t do much to move the skeleton currently sitting in it.

With a low grumble, Sans scooted away from the table far enough to lift Attie into his lap.  “There ya go.  Oh, wait a sec.”  The kid’s pigtails were looking a little lopsided.  He took the hair ties out and carefully re-gathered her hair, making sure not to pull to hard or get the fine strands caught in his phalanges.  “There.  Now you’re extra cute.  Happy?”

“Not yet; I still need to take the picture.  Smile and say ‘cheese!’”

“‘M always smiling, kid.”

She laughed.  “I mean a real smile.”

“You think you can tell the difference?”

“I know I can.  So smile really big like you’re happy, okay?”

He let his mouth fall into his default wide grin as the flash went off.  Attie hummed and examined the picture, frowning.

“That’s not a real smile, Mr. Sans.  We have to try again.”

She did try again.  Several times, in fact.  Finally, she came up with a picture that she declared “okay, but not great” and scooted off his lap to send it to her mother.

Sans caught a glimpse of it and felt his face growing a little red.  He really wasn’t photogenic, being a literal skeleton and all.  He wasn’t even sure what was going on with his mouth in that picture; it looked like he was scowling as much as smiling.

Frisky Dreamer 5:00 PM Not a fan of the camera?

You 5:00 PM SO Can we come visit today or r u 2 tired?

Frisky Dreamer 5:02 PM You can come.  Might want to check with the guards, though. Oh, and why do you use textspeak only half the time?  I know you can text in full sentences.

You 5:07 2 much werk Work

Frisky Dreamer 5:09 PM ...Right. By the way, can I ask a favor?

You 5:11 PM Whats it worth 2 u?

Frisky Dreamer 5:12 PM Add it to my tab. Can you bring some food in? Probably need to sneak it in; the docs don’t like outside food.

You 5:15 PM Uh sure Whaddaya want?

Frisky Dreamer 5:17 PM Something not too rich or smelly.  I’d go for plain bread at this rate.

You 5:19 PM I’ll see what i can do

He looked through the cupboards.  Undyne and Boss had gone on a competitive shopping trip a few days ago so there were groceries, but once again it was an eclectic mix of gourmet noodles and random ingredients he was pretty sure they had selected for the packaging more than the contents.  With a grin on his face, he grabbed a few things from the cupboard and a leftover container from the fridge, then stuck them in his inventory.

“Hey, kid, wanna head out?”

There was a pause, then Attie looked up from her phone. “What?”

“Wanna go see your mom?”

“YES!”  She dashed off to get ready.

A few minutes later they appeared outside Ebott Medical Pavilion, hand in hand.  Attie had adapted well to teleporting over the past week; she barely seemed to notice it anymore.

“You remember the way to your mom’s room?”

She thought for a moment.  “I think so?”

“Go ahead and take us there.”

“But what if I get lost?”

“I’ll be right here; I can ‘port us back outside if we get really stuck.  Okay?”

“...Okay.”

She did pretty well, all things considered.  She went down the wrong hallway after leaving the elevator (it was confusing; the hallways really did all look the same) but she was resourceful enough to correct herself after realizing that the room numbers were wrong.  Finally, they arrived at the new and improved security checkpoint outside Frisk’s room.

“I did it!” she said, bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah.  Great job.”

“Can I give your ID to Mr. Lesser Dog?”

Sans eyed the aforementioned canine, who was wagging his tail hard enough to knock them both over.  “Uh, sure.  Just watch for the-”

Thump.

“...You okay there?”

Attie picked herself back up and dusted off the knees of her jeans.  “I’m fine!”

Lesser Dog whined and leaned over, realizing that he’d hurt one of the few humans he liked.  Attie smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to give him a brief and gentle scratch behind the ears.

Beside him, Doggo shifted in what looked like a nicotine deprivation dance, but Sans knew better.

“Can I pet you too, Mr. Doggo?” the kid asked.

He thought it over for a moment, then leaned over with a long sigh.  Attie giggled.  Sans knew that Doggo wanted to be pet just as much as Lesser Dog did, he just would rather give up dog treats for life than admit it.

Literally.  The question had, actually, come up once or twice.

*Bone friend and little pup good boys,* Lesser Dog woofed, handing Sans back his ID.  *Can go in to see sick momma puppy.*

“Thanks, LD,” Sans said, giving the dog a scratch under his chin.  He snorted when the dog’s neck extended a little.  “You keep a good watch, yeah?”

*Lesser Dog and packmate Doggo will watch very good!  Dogs are good boys!  Won’t let anyone smelly past!  More pets?*

“Maybe on the way out, pal,” he said, steering a giggling Attie into the hospital room.  He didn’t want a repeat of what happened the last time they’d seen Lesser Dog on duty; it had taken hours to get his neck back to a reasonable length, and he’d been growling and snapping at everyone in sight the whole time.

Frisk, thankfully, was still awake.  “Made it past the attack dogs?” she asked with a smirk.

“Yyyup!”  Attie said, bouncing on her toes.

“C’mere, you.”

Attie ran at her mother, skidding to a stop just short of the hospital bed before gingerly crawling onto it to give her a hug.  “I missed you,” she mumbled into Frisk's shoulder.

“I missed you too, baby boo.”

They sat like that for a moment, and Sans shifted awkwardly.  He felt like he was intruding.

There was a funny rumbling noise, and Frisk’s face started to turn pink.  Sans grinned; after living with a little human shadow for a week and a half, he knew that sound.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Maybe.  A little.”

Sans dug into his inventory and, with an elaborate flourish, pulled out a plastic fork and…

“...Tuna?”  Frisk’s voice was almost a full octave higher than normal.  She looked a little sick.  “I ask for something bland and low-profile, and you bring me...a can of tuna.”

“I cod not pass up the opportunaty."

Attie wiggled off the bed and stomped over to her babysitter.  “Mr. Sans, stop being silly with my mommy!”

“Heh.  Sorry, kid.”  He patted her right between her pigtails, then put the can back in his inventory.  After a moment of poking around, he withdrew the leftover container.  “Wanna show your mom what you made?”

“Yes!”  She grabbed the container and the fork he offered her and presented them both to her mother.  “We made macncheese, like I told you.  I think this is our best one yet!  We had to go to the store last night for extra cheese because Mr. Boss doesn’t like to buy cheese, so it’s suuuper fresh!”

“The only bread we had in the house was hot dog buns,” he explained, shrugging.

Frisk gave him a long look, carefully opened the container, and grinned.  “It looks great, Attie.  Thank you so much!”

“You’re so welcome!  Mr. Sans helped, too.  You should say ‘thank you so much’ to him, too.”

Sans opened his mouth to say that it really wasn’t necessary, but-

“Thank you so much, Sans.”

“Heh.  It’s nothin’.”

“I mean it.  Thank you, Sans.  Thank you for everything.  Including, of course, the mac and cheese.”

His eye sockets met hers, and he felt a jolt of...something.  Surprise, definitely.  Frisk...she hated him, right?  Heck, he deserved it!  But..she looked really, genuinely grateful.  When was the last time someone (besides Attie) had thanked him?  “I...uh, you’re welcome.”

They both looked away at the same time.

“Mommy?”  Attie piped up.  “Why is your face all pink like you’re embarrassed?”

“Um…”

“Oh!  Do you wanna kiss Mr. Sans?”

“ATLAS HOPE DREEMURR!”

Sans pulled the hood of his jacket up, knowing full well it wasn’t nearly as effective as he hoped.  This kid…

“Is that a ‘no?’  Undie says the blushing thing means you’re embarrassed or you want to kiss someone.”

Frisk gave a noise that sounded like a growl and took a few quick bites of the mac ‘n cheese.  “This is really great,” she said, a touch too loudly.  “You’ve gotten really good at this, Attie.”

The kid gave a devious little smile.  “Thanks,” she said, patting her mother’s hand.  “It’s okay.  You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

Sans coughed.  “Attie, listen to yer mom.”

“But she didn’t tell me to do anything!”

“Didn’t you ask me not to tease ‘er?  She’s still sick.  Stop bein’ so…” he waved a hand in the general direction of the woman he was not looking at.  “...silly.”

Attie sighed.  “Okay.  Sorry, Mommy, for embarrassing you.  Sorry to you also, Mr. Sans.”

“‘Tsokay.”

“You’re forgiven.”  Frisk dug into the mac ‘n cheese with the air of someone desperately hungry, but wanting to make her food last.

“We can make more,” Attie said, watching her mother closely.  “I didn’t know your tummy was so empty or we could have made some more before we left.  Right, Mr. Sans?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“But we didn’t know.  Mr. Sans said they would probably give you some sugar ‘n stuff through the bag thingies, and that you would get enough water that way, but I don’t think that counts as eating for real.”

Frisk hummed.  “I agree.  This is much more pleasant.”

Sans coughed into his hand.  “So why’d you want us to bring ya food?  Don’t they feed you here?”

“Well...yes.  It’s just...hmm.”  She took a few more bites, eyes narrowed in thought.  “Do you know my doctor?  Dr. Ray?”

“Yeah...I’ve met ‘im.”

“What’s your opinion?”

He looked at her, not sure where this was going.  Why was she being so...friendly?  Was this a trap?  Frisk could switch from friendly to aggressive very quickly when she wanted to.  “I.  Uh.  He’s a doctor?”

“Your honest opinion.  I think...well, I want to hear what you think of him.”

He sighed.  “I think the guy’s an asshole.  He doesn’t think much’ve other folks; doesn’t seem like it’s aimed at monsters particularly, though.  He just doesn’t like people he thinks are...hmm.  Lesser than him?  ‘M not sure how he decides that - education level, maybe? - but if you don’t fit his criteria, he thinks you’re basically worthless.

“He might not be aware of it.  He certainly thinks he’s right all - or at least most - of the time, and being aware of such a huge character flaw would puncture his ego.  He probably just thinks that he knows better than other people, and they should listen to him because he’s a doctor.  He seems alright at his job for all that; it’s probably a point of pride to do well.”

Frisk nodded.  “Do you think he’s a liar?  What reason would someone like him have to lie?”

“Depends on the lie.”  He studied her face.  She looked...wary.  What did all this have to do with food?  Had someone threatened her?  At least she could defend herself, probably better than he could...now that she was conscious, anyways.  “He might lie to protect himself or his job.  If he made a mistake, he might want to cover it up.  Doesn’t strike me as the type to lie for someone else, though, unless it suited his purposes or helped him somehow.”

“So you don’t think he’s malicious.”

“Not unless you’re a threat to him.  What he’d do if he thought you were tryin’ to hurt his reputation or upstage him…’m not sure.  But in general?  Like I said, guy’s an asshole.  ‘Course, I haven’t had any huge soul-searching conversations with the guy.  Could be completely wrong ‘bout him.”

“I don’t think so.”  She laid her fork into the empty container firmly.  “Sans, I haven’t given you enough credit.  You really are a lot more observant than you think.  I appreciate your input on this.”

He shuffled his feet a little.  It wasn’t...it was just how he was, how he’d survived so long on his own with a little brother to look after, not anything special.  “Tch…’ts nothin’.  What’s all this about?  And what’s it got to do with food?”

“Dr. Ray was acting strangely when I first woke up this afternoon.  I pressed the call button and he walked in instead of one of the nurses.  He told me that I’d been unconscious due to an accidental overdose.  He followed that up by being weirdly insistent that I eat, and...call me paranoid, but I didn’t trust him not to ‘accidentally’ add something extra to my food.”

His grip on his magic slid a little, and he felt his eye burn.  An accident?  Attie had been separated from her mother, unsure of whether she’d live or die...and the doctor was calling it an accident??

He couldn’t believe it.  And from the look on Frisk’s face, she didn’t believe it either.

“Calm down,” she said.  “There’s nothing we can do now.  He said that the matter was being handled, and that it wouldn’t happen again.  Of course, then he tried to take my phone.”

“What?  Why would he do that?”

“Consider this.  If you’re right, and he was trying to protect himself - his reputation, his job, whatever - he wouldn’t want me communicating with people who knew the truth, at least until he could run damage control.  Make sure he got his story straight. I assume someone does know the truth?”

“Uh, yeah.  Attie ‘n I were just leavin’ when you were...attacked.”

“Wait, so I was attacked?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No!”

Attie gave a wet sniffle.  “It was really scary.  There was an assassin lady and somehow she got past the dogs, but she was wearing the nurse clothes.  Sponges?”

“Scrubs,” he corrected.

“Right.  She was wearing the nurse scrubs, but she was on your bed and you were trying to get her off of you and she put some kind of poison medicine into your bags.  Then she started fighting Mr. Sans even though you told him not to fight her, but I think that’s okay because he didn’t let me get hurt.  Not even a little bit!”

Frisk looked at her daughter for a long moment, gripping her arms like she wasn’t sure the kid was really in one piece.  Then she looked over at Sans.  “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

He did.  He explained how he’d tried to contact Frisk on the day of the incident, but how she’d been unresponsive most of the day and asleep when they’d arrived.  He told her how they’d been kicked out of the room by the nurse.  He considered telling her that the nurse had made him uneasy, but...he didn’t want to make it sound like he was some kind of hero.

Instead, he played up Attie’s concerns: how she’d been worried, and had insisted they go back to the room.  The actual fight he described as factually as he could: the order of events, what he knew of the nurse’s movements, and the arrival of the dogs.

Frisk nodded along, looking a little overwhelmed.  “I...don’t remember any of that,” she said, finally.  “I remembered weird flashes of emotion, but nothing detailed or reliable.  I mostly just recall...burning?”  She rubbed her arm above where the needles were taped to her arm.

“I believe it.  Alphys ‘n some of the human doctors are still tryin’ to figure out everything that was in that bag the nurse hooked you up to.  They think she may’ve dosed you with something over time as well, but gotten impatient when it didn’t work as fast as she wanted.”

“She was a nurse, then.”

“Yeah.  ‘M kinda out of the loop, but I did a little digging on my own.  She was employed by the hospital as of three weeks ago, at least.”

“How do you know?”

“The local paper ran a story about the hospital and she was one of the nurses interviewed.  Gave her name as Graciela Lira, though I heard rumors that might not be her real name.  ‘Ts hard to tell; she apparently was a foster kid at some point, so her paper trail’s a bit hard to follow.  No one expected her to go after you, though.”

“Interesting.  Let me guess: she’s a monster specialist.”

“Worse.  Monster pediatric specialist.”

Frisk gripped Attie a little tighter.  “And...they still let her practice here?”

“Well, not right now.  Attie ‘n I saw the whole thing, as did Alphys’s security cameras; whatever the hospital told Undyne, she pushed back hard with evidence.  She’s got the nurse - whatever her name is - in custody.”

“Good.  I wouldn’t want someone like that around children.”

This was definitely outside Sans’s comfort zone.  It was almost like they were allies or something.  Granted, Frisk was probably still high on painkillers, but she wasn’t being nearly as aggressive as she usually was, even after his little joke earlier with the can of tuna.

Was this how Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr treated people she could actually stand to be around?  If so, he wanted to-

-DEFINITELY not do anything, especially after Attie’s stupid comments earlier.

He coughed.  “Well, hopefully you, uh, don’t go through that again.  The Guard’ll hold her until you feel better so you can interrogate her yourself.”

“...The human government is just letting this happen?”

“Yeah, not sure why.  My guess is they want something from us; your mom’s been in meetings all day, every day.”

It was traditional among monsters for the victim of an attack (or, in the case of a child, the victim’s guardian) to be the chief interrogator when bringing the attacker to justice.  The human government tended to frown on the practice, what with the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ thing they believed in, but they had been strangely accommodating in this case.  Either there was something about this lady that would’ve been dragged to light in a human court system or they were using her as a bargaining chip to get what they wanted out of Tori.  The Queen of Monsters was notoriously vindictive towards anyone who harmed her family, to the point where it clouded her judgement.

“...Sans?”

“Hmm?  Sorry.  Just...thinkin’.”

“Anything important?”

It still sat oddly with him that Frisk - of all people - was asking for his input.  “Just...theories.  Can’t prove anything.  It just...nothing about this seems right.  The timing of the attack, the way it was planned, the person who carried it out...and now what that doctor told you; it doesn’t add up.”

“If it was planned, it was done quickly.  Very quickly.  Either that, or…well.”

Or she didn’t really have appendicitis.  It was unlikely, from what he read, but still.  Either situation was worrying. Was it easier to induce a medical condition or to organize an assassination attempt in a matter of days?

“Are you done with grown-up talk?”  Attie asked, wiggling impatiently on the bed.

Frisk laughed.  “For now.  Sorry.”

“Can I show you my pictures?  I made you a whole lot while you were sleeping.”

“Sure!  Show me what you’ve got.”

It took almost a full hour for Attie to go through all the pictures she’d made.  Most of them, to Sans’s eternal embarrassment, featured him in some way.  And of course, each one had a story.

“This is Mr. Sans when he accidentally put his shirt on inside out and backwards because he was so sleepy.  You can see the tag on the front.  Oh!  And this is when we went to the park with Undie, and Mr. Sans tried to swing and fell off.  That’s why he’s on the ground.  I thought he was hurt, but he wasn’t.  This one is Mr. Sans and I drinking our juice after training.  It tastes reeeeeally bad…”

And so on.

“All of them look wonderful,” Frisk said after Attie had arranged the pictures back into a stack.  “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Me too.  I was worried I’d miss you a lot, and I did, but it was also fun doing schoolwork with Mr. Sans.  He knows a lot ‘bout science!  Do you think he can help me with my science sometimes after you’re better?”

Sans tensed.  As busy as he’d been, he’d almost forgotten that Attie wasn’t going to be in his life forever.  Frisk was going to heal, then she’d take her daughter home.  And he’d probably never see either of them again outside official functions.  After all, he’d seen Attie only two or three times in seven years, not including the time she’d been living with him.

All Frisk said was, “We’ll see.”

Which, in his experience, pretty much meant “no.”

It didn’t matter, he told himself as Attie chattered on about something.  He hadn’t even wanted to watch the kid in the first place.  He’d be glad when she was gone.

Well, he amended, not glad.  A week ago he would’ve been happy to see her go; but after so many nights of worry and nightmares, and so many days of tutoring and kitchen accidents, he’d maybe gotten a little...attached.

That really wasn’t good, under the circumstances.

A knock on the door interrupted Attie’s story of something Undyne had done the other morning.  He knew the routine well enough to know who it was.  “Time to go,” he said, collecting the empty container from dinner.  “Say good-bye to your mom.”

Attie sighed.  “Good-bye, Mommy.”

“Good-bye, Attie,” her mother responded.  “I’ll miss you.”

“I know.  But I’ll be back tomorrow!”

There was a strange look on Frisk’s face when they left; something resigned and a little sad.  She hid it well, but Sans was a master of reading expressions.

He just didn’t know what to make of it.

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Frisk #Sans #Attie #Lesser Dog #Doggo #Frans #Echoes of Frans #The puns finally make an appearance #Sans pulls a prank

[brerediddy]

more than survive - chapter 12

“Jeremy, c’mon. Open your eyes.”

The desperation in that voice was the first thing that Jeremy became aware of. Everything still felt fuzzy and heavy and horrible, but he could hear someone calling his name. Michael. Michael was calling his name.

He felt like most of the water had left his system, so he allowed his attention to turn elsewhere. As he focused on the voice, he was slowly coming more into his senses. He felt like he was freezing, not simply numb as he had been before. He heard Michael’s voice and the background noises of the trees and wind, not just sharp ringing. Most importantly, his lungs were no longer on fire. He didn’t feel good by any means, but he was pretty sure that he was no longer dying.

Okay. Opening his eyes. He could do that. Slowly but surely, he watched the light of the moon come into view. He rolled over onto his back, wincing at the pain in his shoulders. Then, the light was being blocked by a head. Michael’s head.

Michael’s face, frowning and on the verge of tears. Michael’s hand made its way onto the side of Jeremy’s face, touching him softly. “Jeremy.”

Formulating a response was a tall order, so the boy simply blinked a few times and nodded. He watched as his best friend’s eyes frantically scanned him. His face, his body, the suit.

The suit.

Shit.

“Jeremiah Heere, you absolute idiot! I thought you were dead! I thought you died and you weren’t coming back and-” Michael let out the angriest sob that Jeremy had ever heard. The warmth of the other boy’s hand had left his face and was now being thrown about in exasperation. “And I absolutely hate you but oh my god, Jeremy, I love you. Never fucking do that to me again. Shit. Fuck.”

Jeremy nodded once more, trying to muster his strength to reply. “Love you too,” he murmured, mouthing the words more than speaking them.

“And, and, and—you’re Spider-Man, seriously? What the fuck, Jeremy?”

“Talk later,” Jeremy whispered. “Cuffs.”

“Cuffs? What are you saying? I just can’t believe that I’m supposed to be your best friend and you’ve hidden this from me for months, now. Months, Jeremy, and-” Michael paused as if he were suddenly remembering something. “Oh, shit, the handcuffs, sorry. God, Jeremy, what the fuck happened to you?”

“Talk later,” the boy repeated hoarsely. “Cold.”

Michael hesitantly nodded, watching Jeremy’s face for a long moment. As much as he wanted to scold him, he knew that he had to get out of his own head and help his best friend. “Okay, alright. Sorry. Talk later.” He moved his hands to gently urge Jeremy onto his side so that he could get a better look at the handcuffs. They were cheap-looking, but they dug into the skin on the boy’s wrists pretty intensely. There were angry red rims forming underneath them, and Michael suddenly felt all of his anger at Jeremy channel into pure rage for whoever did this. He knew that superheroes had enemies, obviously, but not Jeremy. Who had laid a hand on his best friend? On the guy that he valued above literally everyone else?

Jeremy could sense Michael’s tension. He swallowed and said, “Tell you everything. Later. ‘M sorry.”

“Let’s just get you home,” Michael breathed.

One thing at a time.

-

A pair of bolt cutters, two blankets, three cups of soup, and a frantic trip back to Michael’s house resulted in a Vaguely-Okay-Jeremy. They were sitting on a futon and he was pressed into the taller boy’s side comfortably, hands resting on Michael’s chest and legs draped over his lap. No discussion had taken place between the lake and the basement. But now, Jeremy was here. He was okay and huddled under blankets and he wasbreathing. He was wearing Michael’s pajamas, too-big sweatpants and a Nintendo 64 t-shirt. The incriminating suit rested in a heap in the corner of Michael’s bedroom, wet and miserable.

The taller boy’s arm rested against Jeremy’s shoulders. He chewed on his lips uncomfortably. Jeremy noted Michael’s unease and felt like he should probably do something to get the ball rolling on their conversation, but what was he supposed to say?

The boy took a deep breath and began, “Michael-”

“I-” Michael said at the exact same time.

“You go first,” Jeremy invited, not moving from his position against his best friend. He didn’t want to see the discomfort and unhappiness on his features.

“I just. I don’t really know what to say. I mean, Jeremy, it’s been a hell of an eventful night.”

Jeremy nodded. “I know. It’s been a lot. I’m sorry.”

“And earlier was great; the kissing, I mean,” Michael complimented, heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of it. Hours had passed since then: the sun would be coming up in due time. But the memory still seemed so close, like it was mere moments ago.

“It was great,” the smaller boy agreed. He shifted uncomfortably, the pause hanging in the air. “And I fucked it up. And I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Michael spoke softly, not even attempting to refute it. “What you said was shitty.” Both boys stared at the blank TV screen in front of them, unable to look at eachother. The air around them was heavy, filled with unspoken grievances.

“I know. I knew it was horrible the second I said it.”

“And yet you still left.” Michael shifted slightly, sighing. “Why’d you leave? I thought maybe you’d come down to apologize, but…”

“I don’t know,” he responded honestly. He didn’t know. That was precisely what he should have done. “I thought maybe letting you have some space was best.”

Michael nodded, accepting this answer as an okay one. “So you just decided to leave.”

Jeremy made a small hum in agreement. “I mean, I thought we would work it out in the morning. Like we always do. I was going to call you and apologize, and you were going to invite me over, and then everything was going to be fine. “

“But obviously something else came up,” the taller boy said, his voice more terse with the topic change. Jeremy was silent. Michael let out a long breath and said, “So. You’re Spider-Man. You’ve been lying to me about it for god knows how long. And you almost died tonight.” He counted these events on his fingers and then lifted the arm that wasn’t around his best friend to push his hair back from his forehead. “Am I missing anything?”

“No,” Jeremy spoke in a small voice. “That sounds about right.”

“So...is there anything you want to say to me?”

“There are a million things I want to say to you, Michael.” Jeremy transferred his weight, finally moving away from the other boy. He leaned against the cool metal of the arm of the futon. Watching as Michael followed suit, switching his position to lean against the opposite arm and parallel the position, he cleared his throat. “First of all, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I just, I don’t know, I guess I thought you would think I was crazy.”

“Jere-”

“No, let me say this. I thought that you would think I was crazy. And then, by the time I realized how stupid that was, I was too deep into this mess.”

“What does that even mean, Jeremy?”

“It means that I didn’t want to drag you into anything dangerous. There was no reason for me to put you on the line.” He folded his arms, finally looking up to meet Michael’s guarded eyes. “I didn’t know how to keep you safe if you were involved.”

“I didn’t need to be involved; I just should have known, at the very least.” He steeled himself for Jeremy’s gaze.

“You and I both know that if I had told you what I was doing every night, you would have wanted in. You wouldn’t have just stood by.”

“Maybe not, but-”

“And, Michael, admit it. You would have worried way more than necessary. What kind of friend would I be if I added that kind of stress to your life?”

Michael made no move to keep the venom out of his tone. “One who didn’t lie to me for months on end.”

“I’m sorry, but-”

“And on that account, actually, worrying wouldn’t have been unnecessary. You almost died, Jeremy. Dead. Gone. No longer breathing. Do you understand that?”

“I know, Michael, I was there.” Jeremy averted his gaze to the wall. “I didn’t know the SQUIP was literally going to attempt homicide. So sue me.”

“You don’t get to have an attitude with me right now,” Michael spoke sternly, locking his eyes on the other boy’s. “You were the one who lied, and you were the one who continued to lie even when you knew how worried I was.”

The blue-eyed-boy paused for a long moment. Letting out a defeated breath, he murmured, “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“How are you supposed to keep me safe if you’re fucking dead, Jeremy?”

And. Well. He didn’t have a response for that one. It was at this moment that he looked, truly looked, at his best friend. He was a mess. Michael’s hair was sticking up at odd angles, his glasses askew, his jacket sleeves half-rolled and falling down. His jaw was set stubbornly and his arms were crossed, but Jeremy knew him too well. He was obviously upset, not just angry, but upset . He only bit his lower lip that hard when he was fighting tears. He only scratched at his bicep when he was bottling up his anxieties. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy said once more, only this time much softer and more sincere than he had since this entire ordeal began.

“I just. I don’t know what I would do, Jeremy. When I saw your face under that stupid goddamn mask, that was the most scared I’ve ever been. Ever. In my life,” Michael rubbed at his arm in a small attempt to comfort himself.

“I get it,” Jeremy all but whispered.

“And I was so mad at you, from before, but then you were dying. Like, actively not breathing.” Michael’s hands fumbled to mess with the zipper on his hoodie. “And I was so freaked out, I didn’t know what to do. All I wanted was to go back to the start of the night. I just wanted to kiss you again and I didn’t know if we’d get another chance to do that or talk or hug or...or anything.”

“But you saved my life. So we can get a chance to do those things,” the smaller boy responded, trying to lighten the mood. “I know I fucked up, but let me fix it.” He pushed his chest up a bit, moving closer and leaning in order to press a kiss against Michael’s cheek. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All of it.”

“No more secrets?” Michael asked, his voice unsure. He sighed as he moved into a sitting position and he pulled Jeremy closer. They mirrored their arrangement from earlier in the conversation, the blue-eyed boy tucked against the other’s side.

“No more secrets,” he agreed.

“I hope you’re up for a long night,” the taller boy spoke, his tone more light-hearted than it had been in a while. “I want to know everything. I mean, you’re a superhero, Jeremy. That’s so fucking cool.”

With a laugh, Jeremy settled in to tell his best friend about it all. He’d wanted to share these events with Michael ever since the entire ordeal started. He rested his head against the other boy’s shoulder once more, claiming the warmth from him as he began his story.

#meremy hell #boyf riends #bmc #be more chill #bmc spiderman au #my writing #my post

[mayquita]

Call Me (17/30) The Meeting

It's finally here! Emma and Killian are about to meet in person! I must confess that I'm a bit nervous because of the expectations that this encounter may have generated, so I'd like to know what you think about it. A reminder, this is the first chapter of the second part. From now on, the story will unfold exclusively in Boston, although The Jones Family will still be present in some way.

Thank you all for your kudos, comments, and for all your support and patience. Many thanks also to @saraswans because without her maybe this would not be happening and to my beta, @ladyciaramiggles for her amazing job. You two are the best.

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma answers the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

FF.net Ao3

Emma - Tuesday

Coward, coward, coward . A little voice screamed the damn word over and over again in her brain. Emma, stubborn as she was, completely ignored the message, at least at first. She was no coward, she tried to convince herself with the questionable argument that she was acting this way to protect her heart. The fact that she had been miserable since last Friday did not help in her resolve, though. Little by little, the voice inside her grew louder and louder.

Emma looked away from the street for a moment, her head resting against the backseat of her car. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to distract herself and avoid the damn voice of her conscience. Without success.

After a sigh of frustration, she opened her eyes again and glanced toward the passenger seat. Sitting there were both her phone and the subject of her troubles, Killian's phone. All the way here, she had ignored the device, not looking at it at all. But now that the car was parked and she had no choice but to sit and wait, she couldn’t pretend any longer. It was as if the device, despite being silent, was shouting to get her attention. The damn phone was the one that had brought her here, after all.

Four days. Killian had been in Boston for four days and they still hadn’t met in person. Because of her, obviously. Besides, Emma was about to make a decision that would be a turning point in her relationship with Killian. Actually, the decision was already made, she just needed to carry it out. That's why she was parked in front of his office. Waiting.

These four days had not been easy. Absolutely not. Her continued internal struggle had left her exhausted, with her walls up once more and unwilling to interact with anyone. It was as if all the progress she had made during the previous three weeks had suddenly disappeared, leaving her back at square one.

Even before Killian had returned she had locked herself in her protective shell making it more and more impenetrable. Deep down, she'd known it would happen all along. She was aware that the distance and their interactions through the screens had acted like a bubble, a barrier that had let her get carried away during those three weeks, allowing the walls around her heart to weaken. When the barrier of distance disappeared, though, the bubble exploded, leaving her exposed again and thus causing her walls to rise once more.

She hadn't avoided him, she didn't have the heart to do that. In fact, they had continued to share messages mostly and some photos, especially on his part. The calls had been scarce, Emma always found an excuse to reject them. I'm busy. I have no time. I'll call you later... Video calls were non-existent because — it's odd to see us through the screen when we're both in the same city. — Excuses. She was fully aware of it.

The first two days, he was persistent, insisting, but not pressing, not only to meet but to get some explanation. The next two days he gave up, and although he continued to send messages and photos about his daily routine, he didn't insist. And that broke her heart, even if she was the only one to blame.

The truth was that, although she came up with hundreds of excuses that could justify her behavior, there was only one reason. And the voice of her conscience knew exactly what it was. And so it hadn't stopped tormenting her. You're a coward, Emma. Fear has you paralyzed and you’re not thinking clearly. He's not that kind of person, at least you should give him a chance to prove it to you.

Until today, her conscience had waged an internal struggle. On the one hand, she felt that she was making a mistake, that the previous three weeks had been a breath of fresh air in her life, and had been the trigger for her to decide to open more to others. On the other hand, her old habits had returned with force, and her walls had risen to a point almost out of reach, to protect her from possible damage.

She was terrified that Killian had managed to get under her skin and, even if she tried, she could not shake him off. And that scared the hell out of her. She couldn’t risk getting hurt. And if that meant pushing him away, she would.

It wasn’t easy, though. Her new friend Ruby didn’t help in the slightest, on the contrary. Emma had tried to keep a distance from her too, hiding behind her shell from everyone and everything. But she had failed. After two days without going to Granny's, Ruby had gone to her apartment and had dragged her, almost literally, to go out and to share her problems.

Emma swallowed hard as she remembered the last conversation with Ruby, only an hour earlier.

"You're making a terrible mistake, Emma." Ruby had finally told her, giving up on her attempts to persuade her to change her mind. Her firm resolve faltered for a moment, seeing her friend's gaze filled with disappointment, but she recovered at once. She could handle this, as she had always done. "Even though I don’t agree with your decision, if the time comes when you regret it, or if you simply need a shoulder, I'll be here. Don’t push me away again, Emma."

She appreciated her friend's support but, despite Ruby's attempts to help, she had made up her mind. She needed to cut the connection that held her to Killian once and for all. Only then she would be able to get on with her life as if these three weeks had not happened. A sad and lonely life, the little voice in her brain reminded her. Since you're not a coward, why don't you dare to give him his phone in person? The little voice continued in a challenging tone.

Her brain felt like one of those movie scenes in which an imaginary red devil argued with the angel of her consciousness. But where was the angel now? Her angel had left her alone with the damn persistent voice that made all her decisions falter. This whole situation was driving her crazy... And who's to blame?

Enough! Emma shook her head in an attempt to get rid of her thoughts as she exhaled deeply and focused on the task at hand. She studied the office in front of where her car was parked. The sign on the front door left no room for doubt. Jolly Cruises. She was in the right place. It had been an easy task to locate the office, given her job and skillset. Now she just had to wait.

Although the vehicle was not moving, her hands gripped the wheel to the point that her knuckles turned white as her heart beat frantically against her rib cage.

Music, she needed music to try to relax, because otherwise, she was going to go crazy. But just as she was going to plug the headphones into her phone, the device buzzed, announcing an incoming message. Emma swallowed hard before reading the contents.

Lunch time. Will and I are going out to buy takeaway food. Chinese or pizza? I haven’t decided yet, what do you think, love?

She answered using only the pizza slice emoji and dropped the phone back on the driver's seat. This situation was ridiculous.

He was persistent. She would give him that. No matter what happened, despite her evasive answers, he had continued his usual routine, sharing his life through photos and messages. At other times she would have felt a flutter of guilt at her brief answer. This time, however, she forced herself to keep her mind cold because his message was the signal she needed to get into action.

Just then the office door opened. All her muscles tensed in anticipation as she held her breath, her gaze fixed on the crack in the door. The moment she saw Killian appearing, her heart skipped a beat as she put her hand to her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to suppress a gasp. He was there, only a few feet away. She had been trying to prepare, but seeing him for the first time in person was too much.

Despite the initial impact, Emma became immediately aware of her situation. If Killian glanced in her direction he would see her clearly. And she didn't want that. She hadn't set up this whole plan to be caught at the last moment because of her shock at seeing him. So she forced herself to slip into her seat to avoid being seen but with enough of a view to continue spying through the window.

Her heart was still hammering in her chest. He was too handsome for his own good... Emma noticed then that he wasn't alone. She had been so focused on staring at Killian, that she hadn't noticed that Will was with him. They walked side by side, but Killian seemed lost in thought, paying no attention to his friend.

Oh my God! Ruby was right, he was one of the hottest guys she'd ever met. His way of walking, his thoughtful expression, that hair that fell over his forehead, all sent liquid heat toward her core. Focus, Emma! As she tried to pull herself together and settle her frantic breathing, they kept walking, turned the corner and disappeared from her sight. It was time to move.

So why did she remain glued to her seat, unable to move? She wanted to scream in frustration. Her desire to have a proper encounter with him increased at times, but so did her fear of getting hurt from all this. Emma rested her head against the back of the seat and breathed deeply. She had come here determined. I have a plan and I’m going to do it at all costs. She tried to convince herself. It was the best thing for everyone. Killian would go on with his life, he didn’t need her now that he had decided to move on for himself. And she, even if it took time to recover, would be the same as always.

Without thinking twice, she grabbed Killian's phone, opened the car door, and made her way to the office. One of her inner voices shouted encouragingly. "Come on! you can do it. It's better to cut back now that you're not irretrievably involved." Her other inner voice, however, kept hinting that she was making the biggest mistake of her life. She shook her head, ignoring her second voice, and with more determination than she felt, she opened the office door and slipped inside.

Her whole plan went out the window the moment she met a pair of blue eyes giving her a kind and at the same time curious look.

Belle. Emma had thought of her, of course, her plan was not that improvised. What she had not expected was that being in Killian's office right in front of his secretary would affect her in such a way.

It was as if all the air escaped her lungs and in turn, her sense of smell was heightened. She was sure that she could detect his scent in the room, a hint of spice and leather. She would never get to find out now, of course, she thought with resignation and some regret. Her eyes wandered the room, everything about it screamed Killian, the nautical decorations, pirate motifs here and there; even a Queen poster on the wall behind the desk. Killian's desk, where he sat every day. Had he been sitting there when he sent that last text?.

"Uhm, hello... what can I do for you?" Belle's gentle voice took her out of her daze. She forced herself to close her mouth, as her cheeks began to burn. She didn't even want to consider the show she was giving in front of Belle. After swallowing, she focused her eyes on the woman.

Belle was sitting at her desk. Her hands clasped on the table as her head tilted to one side, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Uh..." The little voice inside her head kept screaming at her — turn around and get out of here right now — She was not sure if it was the devil or the angel of her conscience who was talking to her. Either way, her mouth had a mind of its own, stammering out "... uh, I'm Emma, Emma Swan."

The effect of her words was immediate. Belle's eyes widened, her lips drew back in a wide smile. "Emma! Are you Killian's Emma? I can't believe it, at last! " She almost cried out in excitement.

Those words. Again. And that feeling of belonging to something —or someone— Emma could only nod in silence, her throat too dry to utter words. She felt her knees weakening and any vestige of determination disappeared from her body.

"Killian just went out to get something to eat, but he'll be here any minute. You can wait here if you want." Belle pointed to a sofa near her desk.

Emma felt a paralyzing fear at the thought that Killian might find her in this situation. She had to get out of here. "Uh, no thank you." She murmured, feeling like a complete idiot. "I'd better go."

Belle tilted her head even more as she gave her an inquiring look through her frown. Then her eyes drifted to her hand and the lines on her forehead grew deeper. "Is that Killian's phone?"

Instinctively, she took the hand that held the phone to her chest. "I'd better go." She babbled and just turned on her heels and hurried out of there.

I told you, this was bullshit. Her inner voice kept tormenting her. Walking back to the car she hoped that the ground would open up and swallow her, she was so embarrassed. First of all, she'd failed. She still had the damn phone, her hand burned as she clutched it. She hadn't cut all ties with Killian after all. Secondly, she didn't even want to imagine what Belle thought of her. Thirdly, Belle would tell Killian she'd been there. She had always known that would happen, but in the plan, she would have returned the phone and wouldn't have to worry about that. Now though, Killian would know that she was a coward and that she'd tried to return the phone without meeting him. He was going to be angry, and maybe hurt, but mostly angry. Dammit…

She wanted to scream in frustration, because, really, what was wrong with her? The plan was simple. Wait for Killian to leave the office. Get in. Give the phone to Belle. Get out. And forget all about Killian forever. But no, the damn phone was still in her hand, her whole body trembled with agitation and anger toward herself and her problem was far from being solved. Despite her attempts to cut all ties with Killian, she was unable to get rid of the damn phone. It's your subconscious that's acting for you, Emma. Perhaps it’s time to finally face your fears.

Killian - Tuesday

When Killian left his office to get lunch, he was not in the best mood. The fact that Will had decided to join him increased his irritation since he hoped to remain alone with his thoughts for a while. But no, his bloody friend had not only decided to accompany him but had also begun to ramble on about some nonsense. Killian picked up the pace and switched to autopilot, nodding or showing signs of approval as Will chatted although his mind was miles away.

Four days. Four days since he returned to Boston and his worst fears had come true. Emma was avoiding him. To be honest, she had not cut off contact completely. She was still responding to his messages and commenting on his photos, but she stopped sharing her life the very moment he returned. And she also looked for any excuse not to talk to him, not through a call or video call.

For the first two days he had insisted, trying to get to her, looking for at least one explanation, but she kept hermetic making his frustration grow.

Then he had changed tactics, limiting himself to following his established routine of sharing his life through photos and messages. Her answers, though short, like the one he had received a few minutes earlier, still made him hope, so he decided to continue that way at least as he figured out what his next move might be. One thing was clear, he was not going to give up so easily.

At least he had not been alone in this battle. His family and friends, although in the distance, had supported him constantly. He had even witnessed an argument between his brother and Elsa because of him the night before.

"Killian, don't listen to your brother, you should keep trying to get to Emma. I'm sure she's just scared." Elsa encouraged him through the screen with determination on her face.

"Come on, Elsa, you don't even know her!" Liam shook his head reproachfully. "Why do you put so much trust in her? Don't you see he's suffering?" His brother pointed to Killian, who remained a silent witness, with the laptop on his knees and with an almost uncontrollable urge to raise his eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer for patience.

"Because they can help each other, don't you realize, Liam?" By all answer, Liam dropped his arms in defeat. "Do you want me to talk to her?" Elsa offered next.

"No!" The two brothers responded in unison. This would be the only thing they agreed on, though, since he had decided to follow his instincts and heed Elsa's advice.

“Killian!”

Will's voice shrieking his name brought him back to reality. He realized then with some regret that he had been totally ignoring his friend.

"Thank God, mate. I thought you had been abducted or something and been replaced by a clone. You're starting to worry me. Maybe you should stop thinking about The Swan Girl for a few minutes and pay attention to your old friend." Will reproached him.

Killian clenched his jaw, a hint of guilt washed over him. Yet he decided to ignore his friend's words. "What now, Will?"

"Lunch.” Will shook his head as if it were obvious. ”Pizza, Chinese or what?"

Killian forced himself to focus. "Pizza." He was not deciding based on Emma's previous response, but because he had gotten some discount coupons. To reaffirm his choice, he reached into the back pocket of his pants, looking for his wallet. The pocket was empty, though. "Bloody hell..." He muttered under his breath, realizing that he had left his damn wallet on his desk while he had been busy sending a message to Emma.

“What’s wrong now?”

Killian sighed heavily as he squeezed his eyes. He already knew the answer but there was no harm in asking. "You didn’t bring your wallet for once, did you?"

Will touched his pockets in search of something, without success, of course. He raised his hands apologetically as he shrugged. "Sorry mate, I left it behind."

"Why doesn't that surprise me..." Killian muttered as he rolled his eyes and turned on his heel in the direction of the office. "I'm afraid I've forgotten mine too."

He started walking, closely followed by his friend who seemed to be having a good time with the situation. "Someone is more distracted than usual. I wonder what the reason is ... Maybe The Swan Girl is the one to blame..."

"Shut up, Will." He hissed almost to the point of losing his temper. His friend could sometimes be totally exasperating.

Will had the decency to hold his tongue while the two walked in silence. When they were about to reach the office, Killian couldn’t resist any longer. At other times he would have let it pass. It was no big deal to pick up the tab for his friend's lunch, but today he was not in the best mood to tolerate the fun Will was having at his expense.

"I wonder why you always forget the wallet when we go for food at lunchtime." Killian already knew the answer, but even so, he glared at his friend, trying to intimidate him in some way. Without success, of course.

"I was not the only one this time, mate." Will teased him. Far from being sorry, his friend was enjoying the situation.

"Don't tempt me, mate. One of these days I will deduct all the meals that you have gotten at my expense from your salary. "

"Oi, you wouldn't dare." His sassy expression disappeared from his face in an instant.

Killian gave him a sly smirk as he opened the office door, stepping aside for Will to go first. "Maybe if you're the one who gets us the food today... I'll forget the previous days."

"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible. I left it... at home." Will shrugged and pressed his lips together, probably trying to suppress a smirk popping up. His expression was far from apologetic. His friend was lucky, however, because just as Killian had lifted a threatening finger toward him, Belle interrupted them.

"Hey, guys." She welcomed them with surprise marked on her face. "I wasn't expecting you back so quickly."

"I forgot my wallet." Killian muttered as he headed for his desk. "And your boyfriend has forgotten his, as always. I wonder how you manage to get lunch when I'm not here to buy it, lass." He also seemed to be getting lunch for his secretary too most days.

"Oh ... I just buy it for myself."  Belle's impassive expression matched that of her boyfriend. Suddenly, Belle's eyes widened. "I almost forgot! Did you guys see Emma?"

Killian stopped short the moment he heard her name. Turning on his heels, he gave Belle an inquiring look. "Emma?" My Emma?

"Yeah, she was here a few moments ago." Belle gestured to the door, her lips curled into a small smile, "I thought you might have bumped into her..."

Whatever Belle said next, Killian did not listen, since without a second thought he raced to the door.

Killian hurried and slammed the door open, as he looked left and right of the street. Just in front of the office, crossing the street, something caught his eye, a glimpse of blond hair getting into a yellow beetle. He racked his brain, trying to remember if Emma had told him about her car at some point in their endless conversations. He ran across the road towards the car that was indicating to pull away. Too late, the car started moving and quickly disappeared down the street without him having the slightest chance of reaching it. Bloody Hell…

His failure must have been evident in his face and his posture as the moment he entered the office again, the expressions of both Belle and Will changed from hopeful to slight disappointment.

Before he spoke, Killian closed his eyes for a moment and ran his hand over his face, trying to compose himself as his breathing and heart rate calmed from his impromptu dash across the street.

"No luck, I'm guessing?" Belle stepped out from behind her desk and gave him an affectionate squeeze on his arm, which he responded with a tight smile.

Killian shook his head in defeat. Just then it dawned on him what had just happened. Emma had been here. A few minutes earlier she had been in this very room. He inhaled deeply, opening his nostrils and trying to detect anything, any vestige of Emma's previous presence in the office. Vanilla. It was not his imagination, there was a definitely subtle trace of vanilla around the room.

A sudden desire to know everything about Emma's visit took hold of him. "What did she do, Belle? What did she say to you? How do you know it was her?" He spoke in a rush, thoughts piling up in his head and struggling to get out, his heart pounding frantically in his chest and his body vibrating in anticipation.

Before answering, Belle glanced at Will. It was a look he knew well, unfortunately. It was the look of concern that his loved ones shared when it came to him. For that reason he forced himself to take two deep breaths and tried to soften his features.

"To be honest, she didn’t say much... her behavior was a bit strange, she seemed nervous, or scared, I couldn't tell." Belle was thoughtful for a moment as if trying to gather all the information about what had happened. "Ah, she was carrying your phone."

Killian's heart sank. That was the reason for her visit, she had come to return the phone to him, taking advantage of the opportunity that he was away. He didn’t even dare to utter his thoughts aloud, but the panic on his face must have been enough, as Belle instantly reassured him.

"Before you freak out, no. She didn't give me the phone. What's more, when I asked about it, she brought it to her chest, as if it was precious to her, or something. That's when she ran off, without another word."

"See, that's good, mate." Killian turned his head toward Will, frowning. His friend had his hands tucked into the back pockets of his pants and rocked back and forth on his feet. "What? don't look at me like that, she hasn’t returned the phone, she still has it, that's a good sign." Will pointed at him. "Mark my words, it's a matter of time, mate. The Swan Girl will end up falling for you, I'm telling you."

Killian gave his friends a grateful smile. One thing was clear, despite the impertinence of his friend, Killian was aware that he could count on him. And his words, along with Emma's peculiar behavior, had been a ray of hope through a sky that had been completely overcast until now. Time to change tactics, two could play detectives, he thought with determination as his new plan began to form in his mind.

Emma - Thursday

Emma unlocked her phone for the hundredth time checking for a notification that she knew wouldn't be there. Still nothing. With a sigh of frustration, she placed it on the counter next to Killian's phone — the source of her current anxiety.

She turned her gaze to the plate in front of her, the grilled cheese untouched, her appetite non-existent these last two days. And who could she blame but herself? She leaned her elbows on the counter and buried her face in her hands, stifling a groan. The plan had been a horrible idea, destined to fail from the very moment it was devised. Seriously, what was I thinking? Not only was she unable to hand back the damn phone, but she had also pissed off Killian so much that he had completely stopped contacting her from that moment.

That's what you wanted, right? The malicious voice of her conscience echoed in her head. But was it? She was no longer sure. Her original idea had been to cut ties with Killian, unable to cope with a meeting with him. She already felt too much without ever having met him in person, and couldn’t risk falling even further for him and then end up wounded down the road. Again. And in the end, that had happened anyway. He had left her. A pool of bitterness settled into the pit of her stomach. Okay, admittedly, she was the one who had pushed him away, but once again, she had not been enough for someone to fight for her.

"I see you still have the phone." Reticently, Emma lifted her head, directing her gaze toward Ruby. Her friend's chin pointed to the device, while she raised an eyebrow as if to say, I told you so... Since Emma remained in stubborn silence, Ruby continued, shaking her head. "One of two things, either you aborted the plan at the last moment or something went wrong."

Emma was tempted to ignore Ruby and mutter an excuse, but the truth was that she was tired of fighting alone. "The plan was a mistake," she acknowledged reluctantly, getting Ruby's eyebrow arching even more. She ignored the silent gloating of her friend and continued "I failed to return the phone and also managed to ruin everything because Killian has stopped trying to contact me." A sigh of defeat escaped her mouth.

Ruby's features softened. She leaned over the counter, reaching for her forearm and squeezing gently. "Let's be honest for a moment, okay? Do you really want to cut off any relationship with Killian? Is that what your heart is telling you?"

That was the problem, that her heart went crazy at any thought of Killian, threatening to jump out of her chest. That's what she was terrified of, not knowing how to handle these feelings that did not stop growing and growing even though she had done everything in her power to stop them. "No, it's not what I want," she admitted through a half-smile. "But it seems that I have realized that too late." Her shoulders sagged slightly with resignation.

"Well, it's never too late, darling. Perhaps now is the time for you to overcome all your fears once and for all. Call him, Emma." Ruby offered her a smile of encouragement.

Emma brought her hands to her face, squeezing her eyes shut as she inhaled deeply. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me?" Although she tried to keep her voice steady, her words came with a vulnerability she always hated to show, but this whole situation had her emotions running high.

"Oh oh ... I don’t think that's going to be a problem at all." Ruby straightened up suddenly, some hesitancy in her tone, triggering Emma's curiosity. She glanced up and saw that her friend was looking beyond her, toward the entrance. Realisation dawned on Emma and her heart almost stopped in her chest.

She sat up straight, refusing to follow her friend's gaze. "Tell me he's not here." She begged through a mumble, her throat suddenly dry, making her unable to utter anything else.

Ruby glanced back at her. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, honey."

She felt him even before her brain could process the meaning of Ruby's words. She felt a warm body just behind her, invading her personal space. "Hello, love." His unmistakable voice came in a puff of air caressing her ear and causing the hairs on the back of her neck to bristle, her heart beginning to throb in her chest. The last thing she noticed was his scent, the same scent she had detected in her brief visit to his office. His closeness caught her off guard leaving her dizzy. Emma closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapid breathing. The sensations ended abruptly, though, as he had already moved away from her and was sitting on the barstool next to her, turning his attention to Ruby.

"Ah, you must be Ruby, I've heard of you." She glanced sideways at the scene, unable to cope, at least for the moment, with Killian's gaze. She was afraid of what she would see in his eyes. Even so, she did not miss all the charm he was deploying to greet her friend, who in turn appeared stunned, captured by a spell. He offered her his hand, but instead of the typical handshake, he took Ruby's hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, finally."

Ruby cleared her throat, emerging from the trance. "Eh, I heard about you, too."

This can not be real, she said to herself, unable to believe that she was finally meeting Killian, albeit in such an unusual way. She avoided making direct eye contact with him. Instead, Emma tried to pull herself together as she glanced at his interactions with Ruby. She wondered if he could sense that she needed time to recover from the impact, or maybe he was simply ignoring her. She would not blame him, to be honest.

Her sideways glances revealed that he wore jeans and a blue short-sleeved T-shirt, exposing his biceps. Oh my god. Slowly, she dared to look up, taking in his profile, his sharp jaw, the reddish hue in his stubble… His voice brought her back to reality

“Not all good, I fear." Killian released Ruby's hand and gave her one last charming smile before turning to Emma. His features hardened as he looked at her, causing her stomach to plummet. She wished for the second time that week that the ground would open up and swallow her. Or perhaps she could succumb to her growing panic and faint like a damsel in distress. No, she was too strong for that. What she really wanted to do though, was run away, a familiar reaction that she had to fight with every fiber of her being.

When their gazes finally met, it took her breath away. They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Had they always been so blue? The screen definitely did not do justice to the intensity of his gaze. She remained entranced for a few seconds, lost in that stormy look, until he blinked a couple of times, breaking the spell and finally addressed her.

"It's nice to meet you too, Swan. Although the pleasure would have been greater if we had met in other circumstances. Unfortunately, we will never know, right, love?” Although his voice was even and his lips draw a half smile, his words cut straight to her heart, squeezing it hard. It was true, she had ruined any chance of a proper meeting, she thought as guilt washed over her. However, she masked those feelings with an attitude she always felt comfortable with, the one that served as a shield. She became defensive.

"What are you doing here? Are you stalking me or something?" She blurted out as she held his gaze, prepared to see some fury in his eyes at the abruptness of her words, but to her surprise, what she saw was a shadow of pain, which, although it disappeared in an instant, contributed to her growing guilt.

Killian cocked an eyebrow and stifled a laugh, and she could virtually see the thoughts running through his mind. Seriously, Swan? "Actually, I was told that this place serves the best grilled cheese in Boston and I wanted to check it out for myself." He spoke with a half-smile that gave her goosebumps all over her skin.

Before she could reply, Ruby snorted on the other side of the counter. Both of them turned their heads in unison following the direction of the sound. Ruby stood there as a witness to the conversation. Emma's eyes narrowed, a suspicion began to settle in her mind. "Wait a moment, do you have something to do with..." Emma did not even know what word to use to refer to this situation, so she just pointed between her and Killian.

To her credit, her friend seemed surprised by the veiled accusation, raising her hands in a gesture of innocence. Killian came out in Ruby’s defense instantly. "She has nothing to do with it, Swan." After a deep breath in which he seemed to value his next words, he continued. "Two can play this game, love. And although I admire your abilities in regard to finding people, I also know to follow the trail when I have the right clues."

Since Ruby didn't seem in any hurry to stop spectating, Emma decided to politely ask her to go. Something told her that the conversation they were about to have was going to be deep and intense, and she wanted to maintain some privacy.

"Ruby, can you give us a moment alone, please?" Emma asked gently, although her gaze actually meant get out of here right now.

Luckily, Ruby caught the hint, as she straightened up, and, after an apologetic look, started to leave. "Okay, I'll leave you alone." Before she left, she added something else. "Call me if you need me, Emma." At least, despite having momentarily fallen under Killian's spell, she was implying that she was on her side. Although Emma was not sure she deserved it, really.

When she was sure Ruby was far enough away, her gaze shifted back to Killian. His look, however, had fallen to the counter, his eyes fixed on his mobile phone, placed on the smooth surface. A horrible thought crossed her mind, causing her breath to catch in her throat. He had come to retrieve his phone, she thought, as her shoulders sank in defeat. Resigned, she pushed the phone toward him. "I guess you came here to get your phone back. Here it is."

Killian's reaction was not what she expected, though. He looked surprised, she even thought there may be a momentary glint of fear in his eyes. "Just like that, without even asking for the ransom?" Killian spoke slowly, his eyes bore into hers.

Emma shrugged, her stomach clenched in knots. "It's yours, after all." She managed to say, hoping that her voice would not have sounded as broken as she felt at that moment. It's all my fault, I've ruined everything. She kept torturing herself with the mantra that repeated itself over and over in her head.

"No." Killian pushed his phone back to her. "I didn't come here for the phone, at least not until I get an explanation." He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose before turning his gaze back to her. "What's going on, Swan? Why are you avoiding me? And don't try to deny it, I'm quite perceptive, lass, and it's obvious you're doing it."

Before she could answer, the bell above the door began to jingle, announcing the arrival of a bustling group of people. Emma looked toward the booths for a free one, but they were all occupied. No way she was going to have this conversation in such a public setting. Neither of them deserved that.

"How about we continue the conversation outside? There are tables on the porch." Emma suggested, giving him a half smile, the first since their meeting, she realized with some sadness.

Killian nodded in silence and they both headed toward the exit. Emma noticed that he escorted her all the time, walking a few steps after her. When they reached the door, she felt a slight touch of his hand to the small of her back, sending electric waves through her body. Emma shuddered, feeling betrayed by her own body. She didn't want to consider what would become of her from now on, taking into account her reaction to a slight touch. Maybe she wouldn't have to worry, she thought bitterly. Their relationship could end today, and she would have no one to blame but herself.

He opened the door and stepped aside to let her out. The sunlight and the warm breeze of the first day of June welcomed them. They found a table in the shade of the building and sat facing each other. It was time to finally face her fears.

Killian - Thursday

Killian still couldn’t believe it. The moment he entered the room and spotted her, he almost pinched himself to see if he would wake from a dream and Emma vanish before his eyes.

After her surprise visit to his office he had decided to change tactics in an attempt to provoke a new movement on her part, encouraged by the fact that, despite everything, she had decided to keep the phone. Cutting off all communication with her had had no effect, however. Far from being discouraged and following the Jones' motto, he decided to take action.

He already had the information he needed. He had no trouble locating Granny's. It was easy to establish the pattern of visits she made. The photos and messages previously shared were very useful in that regard to deciding at what time it was more likely that she would attend the diner. Once the date was decided, he just had to wait.

Before entering the premises, he already had decided how he would act with Emma. Though he had had two days to calm down, he was still quite angry with her attitude. And he didn't intend to hide how he felt, he wanted her to know that her actions also had consequences on other people.

All his determination and anger, however, went out the window, the moment their eyes met for the first time without the barrier of distance. And although he was pretty sure he had done a good job of masking his true feelings, he was aware at that very moment that he was irremediably lost in front of the woman who had taken possession of all his senses.

There was a moment when panic almost took hold when Emma attempted to return the phone. But to his relief, it finally seemed like they were going to have a mature, deep conversation. Something he had longed for since Emma began to act evasively. The moment of truth had finally arrived.

For the first few seconds, they sat face to face in silence. He left her time to gather her thoughts before they began to speak.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know I acted like a total asshole and for that I'm sorry." His eyes widened, surprised by Emma's sudden confession. She didn't give him time to reply, though. After a brief pause in which she rubbed her eyes with her hands and let out a deep sigh, she continued. "This is all new to me and I suppose I was overwhelmed. I ... I don’t do relationships and I've only gotten the closest thing to a friend a few weeks ago. This is not easy for me, Killian." The raw honesty of her words and the vulnerability in her eyes gave Killian an almost irrepressible desire to embrace her. He restrained himself, however, the thread between them still too weak to risk breaking it again.

"I understand, Emma, really." He paused for a moment offering her a tentative smile. In response, the corners of her lips rose slightly as she nodded subtly, encouraging him to continue. "But it's clear that there is a connection between us, we can't deny it even if we want to. For some reason, you and I understand each other. In these three weeks, you have helped me more than I can express in words and I am keen for us to continue to help each other to heal our wounds. I want to give this relationship a chance and see if what we have experienced during those first three weeks is real enough to last now that we can finally meet in person."

Emma inhaled deeply and although she looked away, he could see that she was making great efforts to suppress the tears. His instinct to protect her grew larger. All he could do was prove to her by his words and actions that she could trust him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Emma. But believe me, I know what it's like to try to protect your heart so that no one will harm you, so if you let me, I'll try to prove you that you can trust me." To his relief, his reassuring, understanding words seemed to have their effect. She leaned forward slightly, seeking his gaze.

"How?" It was incredible how a simple word could hold so much meaning. Her pleading look and almost broken voice were asking for a proof of that trust.

"I offer you a deal." In all honesty, it was a spontaneous idea. It wasn’t something he planned, but the more he thought about it the more appropriate it seemed.

"A deal?" Emma cocked her head slightly, giving him an inquiring look.

"Aye. I offer you time to show you that you can trust me." Emma narrowed her eyes but remained silent, so he continued. "One month, give me one month to continue exploring our relationship, to try to figure out together how to move our connection through a screen to real life. No pressure, no commitment." As he explained the plan, his confidence in it increased."If after that month, you decide it's not worth it, you give me the phone and I drop out of the picture."

"And what if I think it's worth it?" Killian suppressed a sigh of relief. He'd gotten her attention, at least she was interested. Her defensive attitude gradually disappearing, giving way to a glint in her eyes that wasn’t there before. Maybe hope, maybe gratitude. He was not sure. What he was clear about was his answer.

"Then, love, the fun will begin."

Emma snorted as she shook her head. "You are very confident of your success, aren’t you?"

Killian raised his eyebrows, challenging her. "There's only one way to find out, love." He held out his hand. "We have a deal?"

For a moment, the silence settled over them, Emma turned her gaze to his hand, biting her lower lip, her hesitance keeping him on edge. When he was about to lose all hope, her expression changed. Her lips curled into a wide smile as she held out her hand. "We have a deal."

Relieved, he let out the breath he'd been holding. His tranquillity didn't last long, though, since the moment their hands came into contact an electric shock ran through his body. Emma also seemed to notice, as her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, her lips parted slightly and their eyes remained connected like their hands. Though reluctantly, she finally slid her hand toward the table, breaking the connection and the spell.

What the hell had just happened? A feeling of vertigo settled in his stomach. If the mere skin-to-skin contact had made such an impact on him, he didn't dare consider what it would be like when they began exploring this friendship, sharing moments together. But what frightened him more was the thought — unlikely, he hoped— of her running away after the deadline. He wasn't sure he could recover if that happened. But he liked a challenge. Now that he had a goal in mind he was going to do everything he could to achieve it.

He had been so self-absorbed, lost in thought, that he didn't immediately notice Emma's change. She seemed to have shrunk again in her seat, her elusive glance fading and an expression of regret on her face caused his whole body to tense again. Bloody hell, wasn't there ever going to be a break with this woman?

"What happened?"

Emma shook her head. "It's just ... I feel terrible because I've ruined our meeting for the first time." Emma wrinkled her nose slightly and pouted in a show of regret that Killian found simply adorable. Again, he had to suppress his desire to pull her into a hug.

"Well, love, that can be easily solved." He waved his eyebrows as he smirked. "We can just pretend that the last few days haven't happened. Except for the deal, of course. That is a fact."

"Okay ... and how are we supposed to do that?"

"Easy." Killian then stood up. "Don't move, love, and above all, don't turn around, okay? Wait here." After getting her agreement, Killian walked back to Granny's entrance, a wide smile on his face. If Emma wanted a proper meeting in person he would do everything in his power to offer it to her.

Before walking back to her, he allowed himself a few seconds to contemplate her. He had to shake his head from time to time to make sure that this wasn't just a dream, that this impressive woman was really interested in knowing him. Her hair looked even more golden thanks to the reflection of the sun, while the warm breeze caused strands to dance slightly. The creamy skin on her arms and neck was so inviting. When she turned her head slightly, he caught a glimpse of her profile and the gleam in her eyes. And a smile, Emma was smiling in anticipation.

Willing her to keep that smile, he walked steadily, repeating the same scene as in their initial encounter, although this time he hoped that the result would be different. When he arrived next to Emma, he leaned toward her slightly, his body just inches from hers. His fingers moved subtly to her hair, pulling one of her strands back for better access. He brought his lips near to her ear, catching the scent of her shampoo. Vanilla. He was right, he thought with delight. "Hello, love." Though his whispered words were the same, his suggestive voice had a totally different meaning. And there was no doubt that she had grasped that meaning, for he could see, to his great satisfaction, that a chill ran through her body and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Interesting…

Then he sat in the same place as before and gave her the most charming smile as he offered her his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, at last, Swan."

Emma raised her eyebrow slightly and she kept her lips tight as if she tried to suppress a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Jones." Instead of shaking her hand, Killian repeated the move he had used earlier with Ruby, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a long kiss on her knuckles, never losing the visual contact with her. He could see her lips parting slightly and her gaze became more intense.

After holding her gaze for a few seconds, she shook her head. "It's not working, Jones."

Killian narrowed his eyes confused, though his lips were no longer in contact with her hand, he held hers in his, unwilling to let her go so soon. "How is that?"

She shook her head again, while with her other hand she raised an accusatory finger at him. "Our first meeting in person and you copy the same moves that I have already seen you put on Ruby." Although her words were a reprimand, both her tone and the mischief in her eyes indicated otherwise, to his relief.

"But this kiss lasted longer!" He said in his defense. "Besides, weren't we supposed to forget all that happened previously?" He also fingered her accusingly, while their hands were still intertwined.

"Okay. fair enough, Jones. But I hope that you have included something original in these plans of yours, eh?"

"You just have to wait and see, I hope you can handle it, Swan."

"Maybe you're the who can't handle it, Jones." Emma teased him and he couldn't be more grateful that everything between them seemed to be returning to normal finally. Although he really wasn't sure he could handle Emma's close presence, especially when she looked at him like that while licking her lips provocatively.

"And now, if you release my hand, I would like to go back inside, suddenly I have gotten hungry."

He ignored her request and continued to hold her hand. "I'm sorry I can’t accompany you, love. I have a boat trip scheduled in just an hour. But before I leave, would you mind if we take a picture? I'll be asked for proof that our meeting has really happened."

"You mean your brother and Elsa, right? Oh my god, I don't even want to know what they have thought of me." She groaned, burying her head in the crook of her arm. He had to suppress a chuckle. "And Belle!" She lifted her head, eyes wide, taking her free hand to her forehead. "She must have thought I was an unstable person or something." Again, her look of apology had the desired effect as any remained vestige of his previous anger was instantly forgotten.

"It's alright, Swan, don't worry about that. Also, honestly, I don't care what other people might think about you and me. What happens between us concerns us only, this is between you and me." He pointed between them and gently stroked the knuckles of her hand with his thumb, realizing at that moment, that he was still holding it.

"Thank you." She gently squeezed his hand and gave him an intense, grateful look. He smiled in response and reluctantly, he finally released her hand and grabbed his phone. — The new one, of course, his old phone was still in Emma's hands, and as long as it served as a nexus between the two of them, it did not matter to him in the slightest, despite the content. That was a sign that he was determined to move on, right?—

Emma shifted her chair to his side to get a better angle. He held the phone up, suppressing the urge to put an arm around her shoulders. Next time , he thought convinced. "Smile, Swan." And then he pressed the button immortalizing forever their first meeting in person. They both looked anxiously at the screen to check the result and honestly, the photo came out perfect, both with wide smiles and bright eyes, not a trace of their previous concerns. It was the image of a new beginning. He hoped it was, really.

"Are we talking tonight?" Considering the experience of the previous days, he held his breath in anticipation.

"Sure, call me." Emma stood up then, but before she turned and walked toward the entrance, she gave him a breathless smile. He had to force himself to breathe and not remain groggy looking at her. He stayed in the same spot until he saw her disappear. He then grabbed his phone again and sent the photo to his brother.

The answer arrived soon.

Well done, I'm very happy and proud of you, little brother.

Killian felt so good that he didn't even bother correcting Liam. Finally, he got up and walked to his car. His steps were much lighter than when he was walking here. He had one month to make Emma Swan fall for him, because one thing was clear, although he was content to keep the friendship with Emma, he wanted much more. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive and eager to conquer the world. He just had to take it slowly so as not to push her away. The first goal was fulfilled, she had decided to trust him and he fully intended to keep that trust.

Emma - Thursday

Emma went back inside feeling much more relaxed than she had when she first arrived. Hope and a tingling sensation lingering in the hand that Killian had been holding had replaced all the nervousness, panic and uncertainty that had plagued her for days. Ruby seemed to pick up on this, raising an eyebrow and leveling her with a wolfish grin before she even had a chance to sit back down at the counter.

"Persuasion."

"What?" Emma's eyebrows went together in confusion, at the unexpectedness of the word.

Ruby shrugged, her smirk widened. "Persuasion," she repeated, emphasizing each syllable. Then she made as if writing in an imaginary notebook. "New quality added to the list of things that make Killian remarkable."

Emma snorted as she rolled her eyes. "Out of curiosity, what else is on that list of yours?"

"You know him better than I do, so I suppose you are already aware of all his qualities. Either way, as a reminder, he is beyond sexy, of course. Patient, since, even though you treated him like shit... " Emma opened her mouth to reply, but Ruby raised a finger in warning..." Don't try to deny it, darling... " Emma pressed her lips together and kept silent as she crossed her arms over her chest and decided to enjoy Ruby's performance. "As I was saying, despite your behavior towards him, he has not given up, in a clear indication of his patience. Point in his favor." She continued, as she read through her imaginary notebook, drawing a check in the air whenever she listed one of his qualities.

"Okay, I get it. You can add to that list that he is perceptive, devoted to his family and a gentleman. I could go on, but I'm curious, why persuasion?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Ruby rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "A few minutes ago you were sitting right there, looking miserable. I don't know what he told you, but whatever it is he's got this." She pointed straight at her. "The moment you walked in the door you were grinning, Emma. I think it's the happiest thing I've ever seen you in... ever."

"Oh ... that." Emma found herself reluctant to share all her concerns with Ruby, she was still trying to figure out how to handle this new world of friendship and relationships. "We made some sort of deal." Emma shrugged, dismissing it.

"A deal ..." Ruby repeated while arching an eyebrow, in clear invitation to continue.

"Yeah ... I keep his phone for a month and during that time we continue our friendship. If after that month I trust him enough, I will return his phone and continue exploring our relationship. If, on the contrary, I want to keep my initial plan, I will return the phone and he'll disappear from my life."

Ruby stared at her for a few seconds with a thoughtful expression. "Let me see if I understand. You're telling me that you have made a deal to keep in contact with him for at least another month... You know that you could have saved yourself all the suffering of the last few days, don't you?"

Emma shrank a little in her seat, uncomfortable. "I needed time." She excused herself.

"Time... Admit it, Emma, you were scared."

Emma sighed in defeat. "Okay. I was afraid. Besides..." She trailed off, this would be the first time she confessed these thoughts out loud and wasn't quite sure how awful they would sound out of her head. "Maybe I needed proof, something that would offer me security, something that made me see that he wasn't going to give up on me. I needed someone who would fight for me for once." She admitted almost in a sigh, avoiding Ruby's gaze, feeling like a lost child once more.

"I see ..." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma watched Ruby's features soften. Her friend reached out and gave her an affectionate squeeze on her forearm. "I think we're going to have to work a little harder on those trust issues of yours. I understand that you want to protect yourself because you've had a bad time in the past. Maybe you don't realize it, but with that attitude, you can hurt other people along the way, Emma."

"You mean that I'm not only a coward but also a selfish person."

"No, what I'm telling you is that sometimes, unconsciously your behavior can be a bit selfish. But today you've taken a big step, really." Ruby encouraged her, squeezing her arm again.

Emma gave her a half smile, incredibly grateful to have decided to place her trust in her. "It's not a big deal, really, we still have a month to figure out what I got into."

"Ha! You and I both know how this is going to end, right? If you have feelings for Killian now, and you have, you can't deny it, within a month, when you two get to know each other better, your feelings will have multiplied, and possibly his too."

"I know. Maybe this extra time in which we explore our friendship is what I needed to finish trusting him and stop being afraid."

"Uhm ... it's not such a bad idea this deal after all. So you're determined to try, right?"

Emma didn't have to think twice before answering. For once her heart and mind agreed on something. She wasn't going to miss the opportunity Killian had given her, an opportunity to continue getting to know each other, no pressure, no commitment, just them exploring their relationship. "I am."

Just then her phone buzzed. Emma couldn’t suppress her smile when a message from Killian appeared on the screen. She turned her head to the outside window, wondering if he was still out there writing the message. Unfortunately, she couldn't see him. Maybe he would be in his car, she thought.

Next Sunday. Irish brunch. It's time for you to finally taste one of the delights of my land.

Her mouth watered at the mention of food. Before she could respond, her phone rang again.

Before you freak out, it's not a date. Irish Sunday brunch is a tradition I share with David and Mary Margaret, so you're more than welcome to join our little party. What do you say?

I hope that Irish breakfast is worth it or I won't let you try Granny's grilled cheese.

That’s not a problem. Now that I know where Granny's is located I can go and try it for myself.

You wouldn't dare to try my favorite dish without me, Jones.

Never, just joking. You'd better remember all the plans we've made over the course of those three weeks, because I have every intention of carrying them out.

Good. See you Sunday, then?

Sure, I'll call you tonight. Say hello to Ruby from me.

When Emma finally left the phone, she found a smiling Ruby in front of her. Her friend pointed a finger at her. "New quality added. Ability to make your smile lighten the whole place. Even though you two haven’t had sex yet ... "

"Enough, Ruby." She felt her cheeks start to burn, but she couldn't help her smile growing even wider. It was incredible. She had only needed a few minutes to speak to him face to face so that all her fears would fade. There was something about Killian that made her feel at home, and for the first time in a long, long time, she was willing to blindly trust someone to the point of letting him into her heart, without fear of getting hurt on the way.

Thanks for reading :)

You may think that if I have needed 17 chapters to develop three weeks, the month will be endless, but don't worry, that is not happening, I intend to tell everything that happens during that month in just one chapter. Well, maybe I'll need two chapters, given my tendency to split them into two parts.

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr @ijustwantyoucaskett-always

#cs ff #cs au #cs au ff #captain swan ff #call me #mayquita writes #my cs writings #captain swan #my edits

[b-o-s-t-o-n]

Infatuated- Part XX

"When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew." -William Shakespeare

The faint smell of anesthetics filled Belle's nostrils as she regained consciousness. 

That, along with the cool breeze from an air conditioner, let her know that she was most likely in the Massachusetts General Hospital. Her eyelashes tickled her skin as they fluttered open, revealing the poorly decorated walls of a hospital room.

Belle sat up in the bed she was in and looked down at her arm to see another stupid IV needle. She reached down and took the tape that was holding it in place off. 

Just as she was about to pull the needle out, a hand stopped her. She grimaced as she looked up at Reid. He knew how she felt about needles.

"Keep it in," Spencer spoke softly as he let go of her hand. 

Belle debated whether to oblige, checking his face for a sign of sarcasm.

He looked worried, which worried her.

"I probably just passed out from delayed concussion symptoms. I'm fine," Belle positioned herself so she was sitting with her legs criss-crossed.

Reid didn't look very convinced. He looked down at his phone on his lap, which caught Belle's attention. She tried to make out what was on the screen.

It was a text message from someone, listing off what seemed like directions to the hospital.

"Did you tell the team about what happened?!" Belle asked, her voice louder than she intended.

"Of course I did," Spencer responded nonchalantly.

He tossed his phone to Belle, urging her to look at the message thread. It was the whole team ranting about how worried they were.

"I'm literally fine," she pouted, giving the phone back to Reid.

It's not like it was uncommon to experience nausea or dizziness after you had a concussion. Everyone needed to relax a bit, in Belle's opinion.

"She's right, she is fine," a nurse announced as she made her way into the room, closing the door behind her.

Belle gave Reid a look in order to say 'I told you so'. He sighed, putting his hand on her thigh before turning his attention to the nurse.

"And so is the baby," she said, so casually that they both almost missed it.

"The what?" Belle asked, needing the nurse to repeat herself.

"Your baby is completely healthy, Miss Hopkins," the nurse said with a smile as she handed her a chart. 

Belle looked down at it, unsure if this was a prank or not. The word 'expecting' next to her name and medical history stood out.

"But... I'm not... pregnant?" It came out as more of a question than a statement.

Belle looked down at her stomach, which seemed to be the size it normally was. 

How could there be a tiny human in there without them knowing?

She glanced over to Reid, who was sitting motionless, his eyes glued to the chart in her hands. Belle stared at him for a minute to make sure he was still breathing.

"You sure are. I hope this is good news..." The nurse trailed off as she looked at Spencer.

Belle didn't even notice the relief she felt when the nurse took the IV out of her arm and set down her clothes on the end of the bed. The nurse smiled at her before going back out the door and closing it.

Belle looked down at the hospital gown she was in. She peeled it over her head and looked at her bare stomach. 

She gently placed her hand just above her naval, trying to feel for something. It was probably way too early for her to show, anyway. She looked at her belly button ring, dreading the thought of it tearing as her stomach expanded from the pregnancy. 

Belle stood up and reached for her jeans, slowly putting one leg at a time through the foot holes. Her hands made quick work of her button up blouse as she looked over to Reid who was still frozen in place.

She walked over to the chair he was sitting in, still not gaining his attention.

"Stop going all Edward-Cullen-in-Breaking-Dawn on me," Belle said, waving her hand in front of his face.

Reid looked up at her and then back down at the chart, making Belle nervous.

What if he didn't want to have a baby with her?

"Spence," she whispered, cupping his chin with her hand. 

She tilted his head up so that he was looking at her again. His pupils were slightly dilated, sending her into a larger state of fear.

"We're... having a baby..." He finally spoke.

Belle stared into his eyes before nodding slowly.

"Me and you..... we..... are having a baby....." He trailed off again.

"Is that okay...?" Belle asked, tilting her head to the side.

"That's more than okay," the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Spencer's lips.

The breath Belle didn't know she had been holding finally escaped her lungs.

Reid pushed her back lightly to make room for him to stand up. Once on his feet, he bent down and grabbed her waist, hoisting her into the air.

Belle couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face as he twirled her around. It was probably not a good idea to be doing this, what with a bun now in the oven, but she didn't care. 

Belle was having Spencer Reid's baby and nothing in the world could make her happier.

..

"We're not suppose to tell people until after 3 months, right? I read somewhere that expecting parents should keep things private in the event of a loss, and that we'll want to keep the news under wraps until that drops dramatically, which happens at the end of the first trimester, which is around 10 to 12 weeks," Reid rambled on as the two made their way into the hospital lobby, hand in hand.

"Is anyone on the team super religious? You know, the whole baby-out-of-wedlock thing could bother them," Belle thought out loud as they walked through the hallway and onto the elevator.

"I don't think so," Reid answered as he pushed the button for the ground level.

"I'm sure your mom would be thrilled if she were around today," he added as they waited for the doors to close. 

Reid knew all about how Belle's late mother had been a teen mom when she had her.

"I wish she could have met you," Belle said, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Her mom would have loved Spencer just as much as she did.

"What about your father?" Reid asked, looking down at her through his disheveled hair.  

"What about him?" Belle asked, stepping back to look up at him.

Reid knew how she felt about her dad.

"Do you think he'll care?" He asked, trying not to step over any boundaries.

"Hmm, let's see. A deadbeat dad who had so many kids with so many women that he lost count. I doubt he'd be one to place judgement on our bastard baby," Belle spat as she put her unoccupied hand on her belly. 

Reid decided to drop it by simply nodding in agreement as the elevator doors opened.

As they walked to Spencer's car, Belle decided it would be wise to call the team and let them know she was fine and that they didn't need to come to the hospital. She pulled out her phone and dialed Garcia's number as she climbed into the passenger seat. Belle knew Penelope would be able to get word out faster than she could.

"You've reached the insanely wonderful and talented Garcia!" Her voice rang through the phone as Reid put the car in drive.

"It's me," Belle said, knowing she'd recognize her voice.

"Shh, guys, it's Belle!" She heard Penelope shush whoever else was in the room with her. 

Belle giggled as she heard a few yelps of delight. 

"What's up girl?! Are you okay???"

"I'm fine," Belle paused, looking over at the drivers seat. 

"It was just side effects from the concussion," she lied, smiling at Reid.

He smiled back, taking one hand off the steering wheel and placing it on her knee.

"You had us worried, Taco Bell! While I have you, the team and I wanna celebrate the ending of this dreadful case. Tomorrow night at Rossi's, let slender man know, okay?" Penelope said as Belle chuckled at the nickname she used for Reid.

"Got it," she said before she hung up the phone.

..

Spencer and Belle pulled up to Rossi's house at 8:15 PM, preparing themselves for the scolding they were about to get for being late.

In their defense, Belle had been dressed and ready to go until she vomited all over herself and had to change. She only cried for about 5 minutes before Reid got her into a new dress and into the car. He was impressed that they were only 15 minutes late after that fiasco.

Reid rang the doorbell as the two stood at the front door. He looked down at Belle, who looked absolutely breathtaking.

He had to keep reminding himself that she was, in fact, his girlfriend.

And now, his baby mama.

"You're late!" Rossi cheerfully greeted them. 

He gave Belle a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug before turning to Spencer and shaking his hand.

They both apologized over and over again for being late, blaming it on the traffic. Everyone had already arrived, including Henry and Jack. Reid watched from the kitchen as Belle lit up when she saw the two children. 

They ran over to her and wrapped themselves around both of her legs, making her unable to move. Her long hair bounced as her laugh radiated throughout her entire body. The ease she had with the two boys sparked a warm feeling inside Spencer.

She was going to be the best mom ever.

"So shall we start tonight off with a toast?" Hotch asked as he handed Reid a glass of champagne. 

The rest of the adults gathered in the kitchen where drinks were being passed around.

Spencer watched as JJ handed a glass to Belle, who set it back down on the table.

"I'm only 20, remember," she said when JJ looked at her questioningly.

"When has that ever stopped you before?" JJ laughed as she picked the glass back up and shoved it into Belle's hand. 

Belle looked up at Reid, trying to catch his attention. He stared back at her, not knowing what to do. He was fresh out of excuses.

"I can't," she said as she placed the glass back down once more. 

Hotch, who had been waiting for everyone to have a drink so he could begin his toast, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Really, Belle, it's fine. No one's gonna tell..." Morgan chimed in, confused by the sudden innocence Belle was portraying.

"No really, I can't," Belle reiterated.

She looked at Spencer, let out a sigh, and spoke again.

"I can't because I'm pregnant."

"I thought we were waiting!" Reid said jokingly, surprised by Belle's sudden outburst.

He raised his eyebrows at Belle, feeling his face turning the same shade of pink that hers already was.

"I panicked!" She laughed, shrugging at him.

Everyone else in the room stared at the two of them, jaws dropped. Spencer bit his lip, waiting for someone to say something.

"I thought Pretty Boy was still a virgin," Morgan finally broke the silence.

Reid couldn't help but laugh along with everyone else as Morgan walked over to him and fake-punched his chest. All the women engulfed Belle in a group hug, yelling their congratulations over the noise of the party. 

Spencer caught Belle's eye for a split second, seeing the overwhelming joy in it. He smiled as he thought about the big family their baby was going to have.

THE END!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #matthewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #spencer x oc #reid x oc

[laurapausinifinland]

Anni miei

I still carry a very distinctive memory of something that happened to me 23 years ago as a 7-year-old. It was one of my daily routines with my mom, watching american soap opera ”Bold and the Beautiful” when during one of the commercial breaks there was Laura with the album ”Laura” and ”Gente”, ”Strani Amori” or something like that. I just remember the voice, the sweet melody and the pretty girl sitting on a beige cushion. And how it all hit me. It was love at first listen, at first look or however you wanna think of it...anyhow the feeling hasn’t faded in 23 years.

Then, ”Laura” album and especially the song ”Amori Infiniti” were my ultimate favourites and in fact for many years to come after that. Never getting old though how much time would go by. The melodies, the voice and lyrics I’d always go back to. The tunes of my childhood. I literally listened the same album for another seven years because I was totally unaware of any other LP albums being released until it was time for another tv-commercial this time about ”Tra Te e Il Mare”. Needless to say how I adored to hear again the familiar voice and sounds that had gone stronger during the years. Eagerly I translated the lyrics to Finnish with a dictionary in my hand and zero Italian classes in my head.

Tra Te e il mare, 2000

The following ”The Best of: E Ritorno da Te” was basically a brand new album for me! While waiting for her English album to be published I collected slowly her albums along the years.. some were harder to find in Finland than others. But I was learning her story. With her singing I also discovered the beauty of Spanish and Italian languages which I began later to study. With ”From the Inside” I remember the fresh sound brought by the language change. I loved it how I didn’t need a dictionary anymore to understand what she was singing about! And even though she hadn’t written any of the songs on the album I still recognized her. Her image had changed but it was still her. Even today I’m still the most saddest about this album not being as successful as it should have deserved to be. But even without the chart success she is equally amazing singer and performer also in English.. or in any language she chooses to sing. Americas, UK, the entire English speaking market – you have no idea what you’re missing.

”Resta in Ascolto” was the first album I remember to have really been waiting for. I remember the excitement of hearing the first 30 sec. of the title song and finally seeing the music video for the first single. How carefully I listened the album and its every note when I finally had it in my hands. I loved it already then but who knew how much more these songs would mean to me during the years to come. These were the days when I started to think about my own LP page for the first time. But with a lack of technical skills and social media the idea stayed as just as an idea.

Come se non fosse stato mai amore, 2004

In 2006 Laura was a Grammy and a Latin Grammy winner. I knew these awards meant so much more on national level in Italy but my joy and pride were dedicated only for her as a person and as an artist who had created something amazing and really deserved the credit, on an international level for that. On ”Io Canto” I was one of those who had never been exposed the poetry and beauty of the music Laura had chosen on the album. It was educating, refreshing and eyes opening. Not only in Laura’s musical life but also in Italian music in general. She sounds so amazing when she gives in to someone else’s writing. There’s something very fragile and emotional compared to when she sings her own pieces. After being a fan of 12 years I finally joined to the official fan club.

Before 2007 San Siro Stadium did not say much to me, especially since I don’t watch football. At all. I did not understand the fuss around the concert but when the DVD/CD came out… from the first notes on – I knew. I think there will not be a concert or a live release that could top San Siro 2007. Even today I cannot watch it without crying at the end. The emotion tops over everything even through tv screen - nevermind that your favourite song isn’t included or the camera crew was kind of lost for the entire evening.. the faults don’t count. It would also be the one (out of the live releases) I’d recommend to someone who’s never seen or heard of Laura before. All the essential parts are there.

Una storia che vale - live 2007

Personally ”Primavera in Anticipo” predicted what was coming to me in my personal life. During these years Laura visited Finland for several times, doing concerts and promo visits but I had not gone to any of them. Because I was shy, because I was young and did not know anyone else who’d like her music too. I literally kept her in a closet and only a few people knew about my passion for her. I was different than the other teens and I avoided bumping into opposite opinions that I didn’t wanna hear. So I kept all of this to myself.

But on May 20th in 2009, it was Wednesday. The day had come when I would see her live for the very first time in my life. 15 years after falling in love with her on the album ”Laura”. I did not take a single photograph nor video. I couldn’t. Too distracting. I was just 100% on concentrated staring at her, listening to her, memorizing every sound, gesture and move she made. I was blown away by her presence and voice. Unable to believe that I was actually breathing the same air with her and sitting only a few meters away from her. I cried during the first songs. I sang with her every note until the end but I can only remember a handful of moments during the concert lasting over two hours. The most beautiful ones of my life which I thought for a long time would never happen. But it did happen. And again. On October 1st, seven years ago I traveled to Rome, Italy to attend the official Fan Club Party. The one and only I’ve ever been to. Another unique experience. I met so many people I had met online, on the FC forum who’d become my friends in real life too without never meeting them face to face. Some I haven’t met again since but the feeling of friendship is still very much alive.  

In 2011 I was in a crossroads and going through a difficult stage in my life and so I was not ready for ”Inedito”’s optimism and maturenes. It took me two years to understand the beauty of this album and to feel the words as my own. And how important it was to have these songs by my side when I was going through the things I did. Today it remains one of the best works of Laura and I find it criminal that it wasn’t at least nominated for Latin Grammy as its three predecessors.  

Mi tengo, 2011. 

As what it comes to her 20th anniversary release ”Greatest Hits” I couldn’t have imagined it to be done in any better way. It was so respectful for the old, but still with a modern touch adding new depth to the familiar songs and including even some of her less known work but which have shaped her career. It was such a perfect release! In 2014 I had my own 20th anniversary with her.

Between 2011-2014 I met Laura three times briefly, in Spain, UK and Canada. No words can describe these encounters but I gotta try at least. To meet the woman who’s voice has been speaking to me for 20 years. Whose words, emotions, melodies and music have been accompaning me for every step of the way. Hers as much as mine. Songs that were maybe a bit too adult for a 7-year-old to understand I listen today with a different perspective and wisdom.

In 2014 I did what I’ve always wanted to do: created my own LP page. Even though it’s a FB one but at least it’s technically do-able for me and maybe even better way to reach people in these days than a traditional website. I wanted and still want to create a place for Finnish and international LP fans around the world where to go crazy about the most and least favorite LP songs, facts, albums, lyrics, stories, videos, translations, photos etc. Besides of FB I have a similar Tumblr page also. On Youtube and Spotify I love to create different playlists. I put a lot of effort, time and thought on my posts and I appreciate every like and comment people give even though without single reaction I do create these posts mainly for my own pleasure. My site isn’t one of those fastest growing like the Spanish/Italian speaking ones on FB but I’m proud of every 1015 (I have at the moment) friends I have.

”Simili” did ”Inedito” to me. In 2015, again I was in a difficult spot in my life. Even though I didn’t exactly feel simili I still realized its greatness. The diversity between musical genres. Richness in lyrics, using talented new songwriters bringing a fresh sound. The songs grew in me for much after its release. And like ”Inedito” I hold it one of the or maybe the THE deepest and most mature LP album so far.

As the 3-year-anniversary of my FBpage  I wanted to share my childhood favourite ”Amori Infiniti” with you. For being a LP fan for the most of my life, we’ve come such a long way together. Because that’s where it all began and how this site is just a continuing piece in my LP story as in my personal life. Back in 1994 there was only ”Laura” album and this song topping everything else but today after all the years, experiences, albums and songs I couldn’t name my favorite LP album even if I wanted to. Too many great ones. Fitting into different moments in life and unable being compared against each other.

However ”Laura” stays classic. Classic 90’s. Classic Laura. So I do hope you enjoy this rarity. With me. Now and in the future. Thank you for reading.

Amori infiniti, 1994

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