#i had to shove this into the queue because i kept forgetting to post the gif of him actually walking

[humanrindswrites]

all i want is you

summary: reader doesn’t know where she stands with lars

pairing: lars ulrich x female reader/oc

warnings: angst with a happy ending, insecurity, friends with benefits to lovers

word count: 1496 words

a/n: the queue is still going but i wanted to get something new out and this idea is one that kept me up at night

edit: yes i retitled this because someone posted a fic with the same exact title (also this is the title i wanted anyway but it felt weird to name a metallica fic after a u2 song but oh well)

The very first rule that Lars had set when they started their ‘situation’ was for neither of them to catch feelings. And as much as she tried, she’d completely broken that rule.

How could she not? Everything they did together just screamed ‘couple’. He held her hand and hugged her in front of their friends, cuddled with her after sex, played with her hair and said such nice things to her.

But he never introduced her to people as his girlfriend, just his friend. His friend who he would fuck so well and say nice things to before going off to sleep with groupies and forget about her until the next day. She would always tell herself that he was a goddamn rockstar, of course he was going to do this, but it didn’t take the sting away.

She knew what she was getting into and yet she still felt like an idiot for falling for him.

The show had gone smoothly for the band, but roughly for her. Lars had given her a VIP pass before the show but she’d lost it in the bathroom. She felt bruised from the other concertgoers bumping into her and she’d had to wrestle her way to the stage door where a meatheaded security guard refused to let her pass.

“Listen, sweetheart,” the guard sneered, “I told you, nobody gets in without a pass.”

“And I told you that I was given one but I lost it,” she snapped back, at the end of her tether.

“Yeah, you and fifteen other tramps trying to get backstage.”

She could feel her anger start to rise, her eyes pricking with tears as she balled her hands into fists at her sides. As much as she tried to not let the names affect her, she couldn’t stop them from getting under her skin. 

Just as she was about to give up and go back to the hotel, the stage door opened and the crowd of girls screamed and shouted for the band to notice them. Lars was first out of the door but didn’t notice her in the pool of people rushing to him for autographs.

It’s now or never she thought.

“Lars gave me the pass that I lost,” she said to the security guard, shouting to be heard. “He knows me.”

The guard groaned and loomed over her. “Look, missy, I’m only gonna tell you one more time: nobody gets in without a pass.”

“Go ask him yourself if you don’t believe me,” she said and crossed her arms defiantly. The guard smirked at her and shouted for Lars over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off her.

“Hey, Lars! I got a girl here for you.”

Her temper flared up again but she shoved it back down, refusing to give him a reaction. Lars finally managed to pull himself away from the fans to where they stood.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused before finally locking eyes with her.

“This groupie here says you gave her a pass and she lost it. That true?”

“Yeah, I did give her a pass,” Lars said and reached for her hand. “And she’s not a fucking groupie, she’s my girlfriend.”

She wished she could have seen the look on the meathead’s face as Lars pulled her out of the crowd. A smug smile crept onto her face but she couldn’t help but overthink what had just happened. What if he was just saying that to get the guard to leave her alone? He was probably already picking out another girl to take to bed that night.

“Go wait for me in the green room,” Lars said in her ear as he guided her back inside. “I’ll be there in about ten.”

In the green room, she sat on a couch away from everyone else, drinking her third plastic cup of cheap beer and trying to slow her mind. She couldn’t stop fixating on how Lars had finally called her his girlfriend in front of people, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was just his friend he liked to fuck.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lars asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to her, yanking her out of her trance.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just had a rough night.”

“It’s gotta be more than that,” he said and shuffled up to her. “C’mon, tell me. Was it that asshole working security?”

“Well, that’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

She sighed and looked around the room. Nobody there was really interested in what they were doing but she felt like everyone was eavesdropping.

“Can we talk somewhere quieter than this?”

“Sure,” he said, standing up from the couch and grabbing her hands to pull her to her feet.

He led her through the small crowded room with her hand held firmly in his, her nerves calming slightly from his touch. Sometimes she hated how safe she felt with Lars, how being together just seemed right.

In the hallway, a few roadies were still milling around and packing away equipment but they were too focused on their work to notice them.

“Okay, tell me,” Lars said, refusing to let go of her hand.

“Did you mean it?” she asked. He gave her a blank look. “What you said to the security guard.”

He was quiet for a few seconds as his alcohol-ridden brain tried to figure out what she was talking about.

“Oh, you mean when I called you my girlfriend,” he finally said.

She nodded before casting her eyes down to their hands. “Did you mean it?” she asked again. “Do you see me as your girlfriend?”

He paused and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “I guess,” he said. “I know I said ‘no feelings’ when we started all of this but if you want us to be a real couple I wouldn’t say no.”

Her heart pounded in her ears as she let everything soak in. It wasn’t the most romantic way of asking, but she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Any feelings of doubt that she’d had over the night had completely melted away, replaced by relief.

“Yeah,” she said as a warm smile crept over her face. “I want us to be official.”

He gently pulled her to him, his body flush with hers as he tilted her face up to his with his other hand. The woody scent of his shower gel filled her senses and she let the world around them disappear when he closed the last gap between them, kissing her softly and slowly. 

She dropped his hand and let him fully envelop her in his arms, pulling her closer to him as she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, drinking him in and not wanting him to stop. They finally broke away for air, resting their foreheads against one another and refusing to untangle their limbs.

“I guess this makes us official,” Lars said as he tenderly stroked her face.

“I guess it does,” she said and leaned into his touch.

“Oh, wait, lemme give you something,” he said as he reluctantly pulled away from her.

“Lars, you don’t need to give me anything,” she said as she watched him reach around the back of his neck. He unclasped the chain he was wearing and took it off before placing it around her neck and fastening it again.

“I want you to have this,” he said, letting his fingers linger on her skin. “So you’ll still have me when I’m not around.”

Tears pricked in her eyes again, this time from joy. She didn’t think that such a shitty night could have turned out so incredible. She immediately enveloped him in a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around him and her head resting on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said into his warm skin. “I love it.”

Lars returned her hug and stroked her back, enjoying the moment before it was inevitably ruined by one of his bandmates.

Right on cue, the green room door crashed open, noise echoing down the hallway and disturbing the quiet.

“What’re you two lovebirds doing out here?” Hetfield asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“None of your fucking business,” Lars said. “Can’t a guy get some time alone with his new girlfriend?”

“New?” James asked with a laugh. “You mean you haven’t been dating this whole time? Coulda fooled me.”

She couldn’t really see, but she had a good feeling that Lars was turning red in embarrassment. Releasing herself from his hold, she tugged him back towards the room.

“C’mon, we’ll go gross everyone out,” she said as she led him through the door, Hetfield following close behind.

“You’re already grossing me out and you haven’t done anything yet,” he joked.

Lars ignored him and wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close to him, as if he was wordlessly declaring to everyone there that she was finally, officially his.

#lars ulrich x reader #lars ulrich imagine #metallica x reader #metallica fluff #metallica imagines #metallica fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #real person fiction #rpf #self ship #*my writing #female reader

[mellohi-fi]

halt! please kindly accompany pixel tubbo on his walk across the dashboard!

#my art #dream smp #tubbo #mcyt #dsmp #fanart #pixel art #animation #the *does anything at all* tag #edit: wait i forgot about this jgjgj #i had to shove this into the queue because i kept forgetting to post the gif of him actually walking #gif

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

I missed you [Sirius Black x Reader] - Requested

Title: I missed you Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader Word count: 1k Published: 12 June 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: Sorry for posting late, I was writing another fic and my queues are being funny. Summary: Sirius is missing you, his girlfriend, and James finds the situation rather entertaining. It seems James and you are on the same wavelength when it comes to Sirius being a love-sick puppy. Request: [x] Prompt sent in by @theravenclawgal for my celebration event

Sirius Black x Reader Fluff #2 - “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass. Fluff #12 - “Aw, you’re blushing.”

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Battle of Swords; 2.9k followers and 1st anniversary celebration event

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Sirius was seated on a sofa in the Gryffindor common room with James on one side and Remus on his other, whilst his eyes kept wandering towards the entrance multiple times in a minute, followed by a disappointed sigh. Peter was doodling something on his parchment, seated on the burgundy carpet, his attention completely focused on his paper, unlike his friends', who seemed more eager.

"You know, just because you keep checking the door every few seconds, she won't be coming any faster," James nudged Sirius with a smug grin across his face.

"Shut up, Prongs," he groaned in a reply as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"It's not like she is lost. She is in the bloody library, for Merlin's sake," he continued, rolling his eyes at his love-sick friend.

"Oh, shove off," Sirius scoffed, his eyes wandering to the door once again, a deep sigh escaping his lungs.

"If you miss her so much, I can ask Lily to make a Polyjuice potion and you can cuddle me at night," James snorted, watching his friend's face contort in a grimace.

"Where do you get all these stupid ideas from?" Sirius asked, pulling a face at the thought.

"You?" He asked, arching a brow. "It was your idea back when I started dating Lily," James scoffed in a humorous tone.

"Oh—," he frowned, completely forgetting about his stupid and stupider proposals. "Back then it seemed like an excellent plan," he added with a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth.

"Right, it's only good if it's your idea," he snickered as Sirius' eyes turned to the door once again. "You are hopeless," James scoffed. "Even I didn't pine after Lily so obviously," his words earned a loud laughter from Remus, attempting to muffle the sound with his palm. "Is there something you would like to add, Moony?" He asked in a mocking tone.

"Oh yeah," Remus chuckled. "As far as I'm concerned, Sirius is borderline alright compared to you. Remind me again, who ran after Lily for years?" He questioned, earning an annoyed eye roll from James.

"It's called determination," James shrugged.

"Or creepy," he murmured, earning a slap on the back of his head from James as he reached across the sofa behind Sirius. "That was uncalled for," he huffed at his friend, but James just shrugged again, ignoring the warning gaze Remus offered him.

The door finally opened and Sirius caught sight of your favourite bag. Before he even had a glimpse of your face, he shot up from the sofa and rushed over to the door. You didn't even have time to turn around completely when his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you into his embrace, hinting a small kiss on your forehead.

"Sirius," you squeaked in surprise as you beamed at your boyfriend. "I'm guessing you missed me," you giggled as you placed a hand on his cheek, caressing his slightly stubbled jaw.

"Just a tad," he replied casually, earning a loud snort from James.

"Right, he has been checking the door every damn minute like a love-sick puppy," he scoffed as he sank deeper in the sofa.

"If I were you, I would shut up," Sirius warned him, but his cheeks taking on a slightly darker shade of pink gave him away.

"Aw, you're blushing," you teased him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "It's alright, I missed you too," you cooed as his smile grew wider.

"Of course you did, I'm a delightful company," he scoffed with a proud grin.

"Excuse me? Don't you think your self-confidence is a bit over the top?" You chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

"I'm just saying that I understand why you missed me," he shrugged as he leaned closer to give you a kiss, but you pulled back.

"Nah-ah," you shook your head. "Say you missed me," you grinned with a smug expression across your face.

"Why is this necessary, you already heard from Prongs," he whined, not wanting to seem any more love-sick than he already was in your absence.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm dating you, not James," you scoffed, earning a playful laugh from the mentioned boy.

"Fine," he groaned in frustration. "Imisdu—" you heard him murmuring, the words alone making no sense to you.

"I'm sorry, but what language was that?" You snorted with a wide smile painted across your face.

"English," he nodded more to himself. "There you go, I said it," he tried to lean forward, but once again you pulled away.

"Darling, as far as I'm aware, I do speak the language and that was anything, but English," you snickered as you brushed a piece of hair out of his face, gently tucking it behind his ear.

"Why are you doing this?" He whined again, but you just couldn't stop when he made those adorable expressions. He tightened his hold around your waist and pulled you closer, sulking in your arms.

"It's not my fault that you look cute when you are whiney," you giggled as you hinted a small kiss on the side of his face, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Fine," he let out a frustrated groan as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. "I missed you," he finally said the words. Even though you expected his tone to be annoyed and sulking, it was rather gentle. Instead of wasting any more of his time, a wide grin spread across his face as he leaned in to kiss you finally, missing the feel of your lips pressed against his. "I love you," he whispered against your mouth, earning a silent giggle from you.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Taglist is in a reblog from now on.

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius fluff #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black one shot #sirius black imagine #sirius oneshot #sirius imagine #sirius fanfic #marauders #marauders x reader #battle of swords celebration event #harry potter

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

[zombryz]

Could you do a Vegeta x Reader where the reader is short & petite like 4’11 but has an attitude 🥺

Or

Trunks x reader where trunks is taking care of reader who has like a cold or something

Hi Anon! Your wish is my command, please enjoy 😉

“Could you do a Vegeta x Reader where the reader is short & petite like 4’11 but has an attitude 🥺”

(I apologize in advance for the layout. Next time I’ll copy from my computer… tumblr mobile must hate me lol)

P.s. I’ll also write the trunks request on another post so be on the lookout for that (-:

~

“Ugh! That’s not it.” You huffed as you threw a random toaster out of your way. With a loud sigh and a scratch of your head you thought “where could they possibly be?” You were becoming very frustrated in your search.

Bulma had given you a task to find some old blue prints from a project she worked on many years ago. She sent you to a storage room filled with piles of junk and had promised that they’d be in there. You often wondered how she remembered exactly where stuff was and why she wouldn’t get it herself if that was the case. After working for Capsule Corp for 3 years, she began to trust you with more and more information. You’ll never forget when she introduced you to Vegeta and Goku, two of her friends who happened to be saiyans. Over the years you became a very loyal assistant and she would give you small projects to work on on your own. She even taught you how to work the gravity chamber and make repairs if needed. Repairs were needed often for Vegeta and Goku after an angry training session. Goku was super fun to be around and became one of your close friends. He was so silly and could make you laugh at any moment. Vegeta on the other hand was more rough around the edges and overall hard to get along with. You tried to be friendly towards him for Bulma’s sake but you found yourself rolling your eyes around him all the time.

You looked down at the layout of the storage room that was sloppily drawn out by Bulma. In that moment you realized you were holding it upside down.

With a face palm you excitedly said, “Ahhh, okay now we’re getting somewhere!” You looked up in the corner of the room and saw the blueprints under a few storage bins on the very top shelf. Shoot! How were you supposed to get up there? You looked down at your feet confirming how short you actually were. You were about 4’11 and pretty tiny. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help.

Almost on queue you spun around to see Vegeta leaning in the doorway holding a towel to his temple wiping the sweat from the training session he must’ve just finished. You couldn’t help but jump a little not expecting to see him there. He was unphased and had his usual mean mug plastered across his face.

“I didn’t scare you did I, woman?” His stern voice sent shivers down your spin. There’s no way you were going to ask Vegeta for help. You’ve always hated having these one on one encounters with him.

“No, you didn’t,” you answered plainly, crossing your arms and popping out your hip. You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of spooking you. “And stop calling me woman! My name is y/n” You rolled your eyes at him and spun on your heels back towards where you were standing previously.

“Bulma said I’d find you back here. The gravity chamber needs repairs” he stated, ignoring you per usual. He wrapped the towel around his neck and leaned back further into the doorway not planning to move until he got a confirmation that you’d drop what you were doing and go fix the chamber.

“Yes your ‘majesty’” you replied with air quotes hoping to actually piss him off. It must’ve worked because he pushed himself off the door frame and further into the storage room.

“What did you say, weakling?” His brows furrowed and he grabbed your arm roughly forcing you to face him. You tried to wiggle out of his hold but he wouldn’t let you. You decided to keep your cool knowing you had gotten under his skin.

“Oh, nothing… Prince Vegeta,” you replied with a flirtatious tone and a smirk, surprising both yourself and Vegeta. You couldn’t tell if he became flustered, before it could go further you finally pulled away. “Fine. Let me just grab these real quick then.” You spot a chair on the other side of the room. You grabbed the chair and brought it over to the shelf holding the blue prints. In one swift motion you stood up on the chair and reached out to grab the blue prints. You couldn’t believe it, you still weren’t tall enough. Your face became red when you realized Vegeta was still in the room. Crap.

There was silence and then a deep chuckle, Vegeta couldn’t hold it in. This was the first time you’d ever heard him laugh. “What were you planning on doing with that, woman?” He kept laughing which annoyed you more. You dropped your head in defeat, your hair fell to the sides of your face. You almost broke a sweat trying to get those damn blue prints.

With a brief pause, “Vegeta… can. you. help. me…?” You hated that you even had to ask him for help. This was so embarrassing. You couldn’t look over at him, part of you hoped he had left the room. You didn’t even know if he’d actually help, you wouldn’t put it past him. You heard his foot steps as he walked towards you. He didn’t say anything as he approached you. Stepping down from the chair you finally looked him in the eyes as he got closer. He looked you up and down once more before leaning down, picking you up wrapping his arms around the back of your knees so that his head was flush with your chest and his arms support your butt. This is not what you expected. You also didn’t expect for Vegeta to give you butterflies, why the heck were you feeling this way? He held you up high so you took the opportunity to reach for the blue prints. Finally! You tapped him signaling for him to put you down. Instead of letting you back down the way he picked you up, he allowed you to slide down his body causing your shirt to come up a bit. His onyx eyes were still locked on yours.

You pulled away from him clearing your throat and fixing your shirt. There was so much tension, you weren’t sure if he felt it too.

“Um, thanks,” you produced a fake smile in hopes he wouldn’t catch you blushing.

Vegeta closed the space between you again, he decided this time to pick you up so that your thighs were wrapped around his waist. Before you knew it his lips were on yours desperately trying to relieve the tension between the two of you. He carried you over to the nearest wall shoving you against it causing you to drop the blue prints you didn’t realize you were still holding. His gloved hand ran his fingers through your hair as he started placing kisses down your neck. A moan escaped your lips and that’s when you heard Bulma talking down the hall, you assumed she was looking for you since you’d been gone so long. Vegeta pulled away leaving you wanting more. Without saying a word to you he left the room.

On the way out of the door you heard him call out, “That woman needs to fix her attitude.” You we’re so confused. Before you had a second longer to think about it Bulma had turned the corner. Her eyebrow was raised as she smiled at you.

“Let me guess, the gravity chamber is broken again?” She giggled. You couldn’t hold it in, you started cracking up with her and eventually both of you were rolling on the floor laughing.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #vegeta x reader #prince vegeta #dbs bulma #dbs goku #fluff

[another-stark-sub]

Thank-god-we’re-alive-sex with Tony? Would it be cheeky and giddy or angsty af?

You know, I actually love angsty stuff that leads to fluff, so I’m surprised I’ve never thought of this. 18+ stuff ahead!

The tower was on lockdown. The tower going on lockdown has happened before, and that time the assailants were caught quickly. It was barely ten minutes.

As usual, Tony called you. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m heading to the spare bedroom.”

“Good. I’ll meet you there when this is over.”

“Ok, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Ten minutes passed, you got nervous. You resisted the urge to pace and started look around for a hiding place. You might need one.

You got updates that the assailants were taking hostages on the lower floors. Some team members, including Tony, were downstairs, freeing the hostages and leading them out. You and others were advised to stay where you were.

Five more minutes passed, and still no word from anyone.

You hid in the closet just in case.

Ten more minutes passed. Your heart was racing, and you kept on taking deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Some assailants were captured, but there were still some heading upstairs. No word of damage or deaths.

Two more minutes. Communications were down. 

You wouldn’t get more updates unless someone fixed communications. You licked your lips. You made sure the emergency suit was in your pocket before retreating deeper into the closet. Feeling around, you found the strategically placed crack and pressed into it.

A room opened up to you, and you quickly closed the secret passageway behind you. You sat down in the corner of the room, right next to the windows and held your knees together.

If you were found, you’d just blast your way out. You checked your watch. It had been 33 minutes since lockdown started.

40 minutes in, you heard scuffling outside. It was too close. Someone was in the bedroom.

You quickly stood up and clasped the necklace around your neck. You pinched the silver chain, ready to deploy your suit if someone came in.

You heard a knock against the hidden doorway. “Honey?”

It sounded like Tony. You stepped forward and waited.

He cleared his throat. “I got blueberries.”

You laughed in relief and opened the passage. Once you saw him, you threw yourself into his arms and hugged him close. “You’re ok,” you said. You pulled back to look at him. He had some scratches and a bit of a broken nose. “Oh my god.” You gently stroked his cheek.

“I’m fine.” His smile was infectious. It almost made you forget that the tower was still on lockdown and that he was was hurt. Almost. After he traced his thumbs over your cheeks, he kissed the side of your head, only to groan because of his nose.

“Tony,” you chastised. You brushed his hair away from his face and-

“Come on, you two. We have to get out of here.” Bucky was adamant.

“Right.” You smiled at Tony and said, “Let’s go.”

You let the two of them lead you. You picked up some other agents and avengers on your way to the roof. Once you got there, Tony took your in his arms and flew off with you.

The flight to the helicarrier was silent. You didn’t even look at the view as you pressed yourself into the armor.

The rest of the day, you went through the motions. Tony got treated for his injuries as you reviewed the reports about the lockdown. Somebody from Budapest really had it out for Clint, Natasha, and Bucky.

It wasn’t until Tony was discharged did he jump you. Outside the medical wing, he had pulled you into a possessive kiss that made you gasp. With the semblance of common sense you had left, you dragged Tony back to your room. It didn’t stop him from occasionally pinning you against the wall and you indulging him for a kiss or two.

When you finally in your room, you immediately took off his shirt. He was busy committing your body to memory. He already had it memorized, but what was the harm in reviewing? His hands slid up and down your body, pressing harder when you sucked on his bottom lip or his tongue.

When he had managed to wrap your thighs around his waist, Tony took off your shirt and ripped your bra off.

“Tony.” Instead of sounding shocked, like you were, it came out as a moan as he continued to suck hickies onto your neck.

Suddenly, your back landed on the bed, and his fingers were shoved down your underwear.

Just like that, you were turned into a whining, little mess, and seeing Tony grind into the mattress as he got your ready for him only heightened your pleasure.

His fingers were rushing. The stretch was a tad uncomfortable but overshadowed by the way his lips met your clit. He was unabashed by the sounds his mouth and fingers made against your folds, and you didn’t hide your begging and pleading. “Tony, please, you’re teasing.”

He took that as his queue. Then, you were full of him, and a delicious groan escaped his lips.

For a few moments, he stayed that, relishing in the feeling of being completely sheathed inside of you. He leaned down, his lips by your ear. Out of breath, he managed to say, “Mine. No one else’s.”

You nodded. “No one else’s.”

Your lips met his, and when he sucked on your tongue, he pulled out to thrust into you.

There were too many sensations to pay attention to. His groands and short breaths, the wet sounds from his dick sliding in and out, the utter heat of it all.

His thrust got faster and faster, and soon he pulled away from kissing you to stare at the place the two of your were connected. That did it for him. He moaned sinfully and buried himself in you.

Feeling him release inside of you had your writhing beneath him. As your clit rubbed against his skin, you found your release and clenched around him.

As you enjoyed your bliss, he began to kiss you everywhere he could, making sure you could ride out your pleasure

And in your post-orgasmic daze, you threaded your fingers through his hair kiss him as much as you could.

“You ok?” he asked you.

You laughed a little. “I should ask you that.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally got a good look at him. The bandage on his nose and the cuts there were starting to heal over. He was the one worse for wear, and yet you could still see the fear in his wide eyes.

“I’m ok,” you told him. You gulped. “I followed the plan. I was ok.”

He nodded and pressed his face into the side of your neck. “I didn’t know where they would go.”

You stroked his back and held him close. “No one could take me away from you. You know that, right?”

Tony laughed. “Got that right.” He dove in for one more kiss before hesitantly separating from you.

The two of you cleaned each other up, gently wiping each other’s skin and kissing the places that were clean.

Not bothering to put on clothes, the two of you snuggled up against each other.

The next day, the two of you would deal with reports and going back to the tower. But for that night, you stayed in each other’s arms, not ready to let the other go.

#tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark headcanons #tony stark #mcu smut #mcu x reader #mcu headcanons #mcu #smutty saturday

[morallygreyprompts]

AAAAHHHHH (screaming continues for 1723 more characters) THANK YOU FOR PART 4 OF VILLAIN CAPTURING LEADER. When you have the time, could you do a part 5? It’s one of my favourites. And hopefully the villain takes leader back or something because I absolutely love it when the Villain wins. :)

Well, it’s no part 5 but here you go, heckin big oof incoming! I hope you like it! (I was supposed to post this tomorrow and forgot to queue it so uh... yeah, whoops.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Leader was stunned when they woke up in the middle of the night to see Villain standing over them. “Shhh,” they whispered, putting a finger over their lips. Leader swallowed hard but nodded. They couldn’t help but notice the spike of anxiety in their chest at seeing them in the flesh. They were in trouble, they had to be in trouble, that was the only reason they’d be here. They were going to hurt them, they were going to be punished so badly for being away, for letting the team get in their head-

Villain reached forward and stroked Leader’s hair, making them jump. “Don’t be afraid,” Villain soothed. “Slow your breathing down. I’m taking you home.” Leader nodded, but much to their surprise… there was no relief at hearing those words. They weren’t sure if they wanted to leave here or not… No. They couldn’t fall for the team’s tricks.

Leader bit back a whimper as they forced themselves up out of bed, screwing up their face as they disturbed the wound by getting up a little too fast. Villain was surprisingly gentle and patient, helping them out of bed. “Lean on me, I doubt you’ll be able to walk back unassisted.” “T.thank you, master, for coming for me,” Leader managed as they hobbled down the hallway. “You didn’t think I was about to let you go back to such untrustworthy and dangerous heathens, did you?” “I… No, master.”

Villain smiled as they guided Leader further and further away from their freedom.

“[Leader]!” Vigilante suddenly called out. “[Villain], get away from them! You’re not taking them back there!” Vigilante had their knives out, ready to fight. Villain smirked and smoothly produced a gun, and took aim at Vigilante. Leader felt something in their chest tighten. “No, please, [Vigilante], just go!” Leader cried. “Let me go back with them.” Vigilante clenched their jaw. “I don’t care if you hate me or mistrust me, [Leader], I can’t let you go back with them. You want me to prove I care? Well, this is it... Take me instead.”

“Why would I want filth like you?” Villain answered. “[Leader] is clearly worth more than you. They are mine- and I care about them very much.” “You don’t give a damn! This was nothing but revenge because [Leader] rescued [Hero]. [Leader], please understand that. Remember that! We care about you so much! We just couldn’t find you! [Leader], we couldn't find you!”

Leader was speechless, but there was a pang of sorrow in their heart seeing a tear slip down Vigilante’s face. “[Leader], even if you walked away from this team forever and never spoke to us again, please. Do not go back to them.”

“[Leader]?” a quiet voice murmured from behind Vigilante. It was Hero.

Villain gripped the gun tighter. “It’s time to go, [Leader].” Leader sniffled, seeing the pain in Vigilante's expression. Leader hoped their expression showed how sorry they were. They forced themselves to look away. “Yes… master.”

Leader started to limp away with Villain holding on tight to their arm.

Vigilante snarled and ran down the hall, knives ready. Villain turned and fired a shot, alerting the whole building that something was wrong. The bullet hit Vigilante in the right shoulder but they cried out and kept going, raising the knife to strike.

In a quick movement, Villain dragged Leader in front of them and fired another shot. It whizzed past Leader’s ear, missed Vigilante, but hit it’s mark. Hero cried out and dropped to the floor. Vigilante froze before they could hit Leader with the knife.

“[Hero]!” Vigilante and Leader cried out at once. “I’d go help them if I were you,” Villain said. “Don’t want them to bleed out now, do we?” Vigilante was torn, but when Villain put the gun to Leader’s throat, drawing a yelp from them, it became clear they had no choice.

“Go,” Leader pleaded. In that moment they didn’t care if Villain had a gun at their throat. They added. “Just forget about me.” Vigilante looked back at Hero’s limp body and started to back away. “I’m so sorry, [Leader], I’m sorry for everything.”

Villain dragged Leader away before anyone else could try to stop them.

“Clearly you’ve been compromised,” Villain said as they shoved them into the back of the van. “But I’m sure we can… entice that back out of you. Who knows what lies they’ve filled your head with.”

Leader sat alone in the back of the van, hugging their knees, hoping the pain in their leg would die down. They wept as quietly as they could in the back, so afraid for Hero. Seeing how Villain considered them property, how Vigilante had only cared for their welfare… If I untied you right now, would you go straight back to them? Really, without a second thought? “I’d stay,” Leader whispered. “[Vigilante], I’d stay with you all. I’m so sorry.”

Like my stuff and want to support what I do? Then maybe consider buying me a Kofi? Ko-fi.com/morallygrey

#hero and villain #writing prompt #continuation #leader #villain #hero #vigilante #hero's team #recaptured

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Nocturne

<Yoongi x Reader>

Part 7 - Bad Idea

It was supposed to be easy: confess your love for Park Jimin and spend the final moments of the year locked in his arms. Only one problem – he has a new girlfriend and now you need to save face. Good thing Yoongi is willing to play pretend. But how long until you catch feelings for the quiet music man?

January 2nd – 12:07pm

You were silently cursing as you jogged to the café. You were running late. You hated running late. It was something your mother had taught you and Jungkook, although he seemed to forget that lesson more often than he forgets to charge his phone. It wasn’t so much about being late that was the problem. It was that being late demonstrated that you cared very little about what you were late to. No matter how hard you tried, you could never seem to make yourself care any less. Every time the clocked ticked even a minute past the time you were supposed to be somewhere, it was like you had downed ten coffees. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins. You became more aware of the sound of your footsteps on the pavement; of conversations you drifted past. The feeling would stay with you for the rest of the day, reminding you that you had shown that you didn’t care enough.

At least this time, you argued to yourself, it wasn’t your fault. Hye-jin had walked out of her room ten minutes before you had wanted to leave. She took one look at the box of muffins on the counter and got a look on her face that made you regret even asking her when Yoongi was working. You knew you should have risked just turning up at the café and hoping for the best.

“Where are you going?” She slyly asked, moving to inspect the muffins closer.

You stepped in front of her, hoping to block her view of the muffins. You knew it was stupid. So what you made blueberry muffins? A lot of people liked blueberry muffins. They were Jungkook’s favourites after all… well, second favourite. Okay, so maybe Jungkook didn’t have a favourite muffin because he never took the time to actually taste them before devouring them, but that wasn’t the point. You just couldn’t shake the feeling from the pit of your stomach that as soon as Hye-jin saw the muffins she would put two and two together and come up with Yoongi. And you really didn’t want her coming up with that conclusion.

“The café,” you said slowly, watching as Hye-jin’s expression slowly lit up.

Okay, so it really didn’t matter whether she saw the muffins or not, she was still coming up Yoongi. You mentally slapped yourself for being so stupid. Why didn’t you just say you were meeting Jungkook for lunch?

She hit your arm with a grin. “Shut up! No way. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“It’s not.” You held out your hands to calm Hye-jin before she got carried away. Which was an occupational hazard with living with Hye-jin. She was prone to romantic fantasies and no matter how dire the situation, she always managed to find the romantic side. It was one of her traits that had drawn you to her in the first place. You remember the first time you met when she had dramatically flopped down beside you at a party and told you that she was going to marry Taehyung one day. It was why she kept going back to him after all these years, you mused. That every time he hurt her, every break-up, every argument, it was all leading to the romantic end. The moment she got her Prince Charming.

And now she’s got it into her head that Yoongi was your one. You couldn’t really blame her either. You had encouraged it by stupidly admitting that you had kissed him. And that one time you had accidentally confessed that you thought Yoongi was kind of cute…

“Give me five minutes, I’ll come with you.” She clapped her hands together, acting as if you hadn’t just spoken.

Your mind raced as you tried to find a way to stop her from joining you.

“No!” You grabbed her arm. “I’m not going there to see Yoongi. I’m just meeting Jungkook.”

“So, the muffins…” She pointed to the box behind you with her brow raised.

“For… Jungkook,” You said slowly, nodding your head with what you hoped was enough conviction. It was partially true, for the record. After he commented on your Instagram post, you had decided to be a nice sister and make him his own batch. Sure, they weren’t baked to perfection like the ones for Yoongi were, but Jungkook wouldn’t notice. You doubted he would notice or care if the muffins he received weren’t the perfect golden brown.

“Right. So why did you ask when Yoongi was working then?”

Damn it, she had you.

“Um… because I… was going to make him some, but then I realised that it was probably going to send the wrong message.”

Hye-jin narrowed her eyes. “Wrong message? What wrong message?” She folded her arms across her chest and you knew that no matter what you said, she would still come to the same conclusion.

“That I… like him?” You answered uncertainly. You cleared your throat. “Hye-jin, Yoongi’s nice and everything. But it’s not like that. It was just a kiss.” You wait for her reaction, watching as she continued to stare you down. You fold your arms behind your back, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Oh, I see.” Hye-jin nodded, a smile playing on her lips. You knew that whatever she had just discovered, it was likely to be the opposite of what you had said that had made her smile.

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She sighed dramatically, her smile still plastered on her face. “I see. I’ll let you go deliver your muffins to… Jungkook.”

You closed your eyes, knowing that you needed to set her straight and that there really was nothing going on with you and Yoongi before she started planning your wedding or something else equally lucrative. You glanced at the clock in hopes that you had time to sit her down and explain and realised that you were going to be late.

“Oh no.” You let go of the hem of your shirt, forgetting all about setting the record straight as you grabbed the box of muffins and shoved them in your bag.

“I’ll see you tonight!” Hye-jin called after you as you raced to put your shoes on. “And I want to hear everything about your lunch date with Jungkook.” She emphasised his name in such a way that you knew she wasn’t really talking about your brother.

You closed your eyes, burying the feeling of standing up for yourself. Denying that you had feelings for a guy you barely knew right now was only going to make Hye-jin think you did have feelings for him. Instead, you vowed to clear the air when you got home.

“Bye!” You called behind you as you made your way out the front door.

-

The bell rang out above you as you pushed open the café door. The café was busy as normal, if not a little busier, as you joined the end of the queue. Yoongi wasn’t alone behind the counter and, when he saw you in line, you could swear that you saw a small smile grace his lips before returning his blank stare to the customer he was serving. The other server, another male who you assumed to be Mark (considering that was the only other name you knew from the café), was running around behind Yoongi trying to fulfil orders as quickly as Yoongi was taking them. Slowly the queue moved until you were the one ordering.

“What can I get for you?” Yoongi asked. He looked at you like you were any other customer, but as you met his gaze, you noted that they looked a whole lot less blank than he had for every other customer. Or maybe that was all in your head.

You smiled at him. “It’s not what you can get for me, but what I can get for you.” You dug through your bag and presented the plastic container of muffins.

Yoongi hesitated as he stared down at the muffins. “I thought I told you I didn’t want muffins.”

“And I thought I told you that you were getting them regardless.” When he made no move to take them from you, you placed them on the counter.

Job done, you thought. You couldn’t help the smug smile as Yoongi continued to stare down at the container. You could see it in his face that he didn’t really want to object to the muffins, and you couldn’t blame him. You put your heart and soul into baking, so when a batch of muffins turned out as good as the ones in front of Yoongi, you couldn’t help but take a little pride in the way people reacted to them.

You smiled at Yoongi as you took a step away from the counter. You knew that this would be the worst place for Jungkook to find you. Him seeing you talk to Yoongi would cause more chaos than you were willing to endure. As is, the moment he saw that Hye-jin wasn’t working, you knew he would have questions. You hoped you could dodge any question about Yoongi until everyone could forget about your kiss.

Damn that kiss.

“Oh Yoongi, love. You can’t say no to muffins! Especially ones made by this lovely young lady.” A woman joined you by the counter, lightly placing her hand on your arm as she smiled at Yoongi.

“I wasn’t going to reject them.” Yoongi snatched the box and placed it beneath the counter before making his way around to the other side. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until this evening?” He asked the woman. He looked between the woman and you and, for the first time that you could remember, you saw something on Yoongi’s face. His eyes widened, his lips were slightly parted as his gaze refused to settle. He was panicking.

“I was, but then I realised I missed my son terribly and I thought I would make the effort to get here sooner.” She cupped his cheeks for a moment before turning to you. “Now, are you going to introduce me to this wonderful young lady.” She smiled at you. It was a brilliant kind of smile, nothing half-assed about it. She smiled and her whole body radiated her happiness. You couldn’t help but smile back at her.

Yoongi sighed. “Mum, this is Yn. Yn, this is my mother.”

“Oh, so this is Yn!” Yoongi’s mother clapped her hands together as if you were her favourite celeb in the world.

You frowned at Yoongi before returning your attention back to his mother. “Hi.” You smiled. That was until she threw herself at you, wrapping you tightly in her arms. Over her shoulder, you looked at Yoongi. “Why is she hugging me?” you mouthed, but you knew he was going to be no help. He was staring at the pair of you like he had just seen a ghost.

“It’s so nice to finally meet Yoongi’s girlfriend!” His mother announced as she let go of you.

His what now?

“Oh I’m not-” You began to say, but were cut off by Yoongi.

“Yep, this is her! My girlfriend.” He stepped beside you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. You looked up at him, hoping your expression conveyed just how confused you were.

At least Jungkook wasn’t here for this.

“Girlfriend?!” Jungkook stood from where he was seated at the table directly behind you.

“No!” You pointed at Jungkook as Yoongi instantly announced “Yes!”

This was not good. This was so not good.

You turned your attention back to Yoongi and slapped his shoulder with the back of your hand.

“What is going on here?” Yoongi’s mother asked, glancing between the two of you. All her previous happiness had dropped from her face and she was looking between you like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing.

“That’s what I would like to know, Yn.” Jungkook frowned, crossing his arms as he stepped beside Yoongi’s mother.

You could feel the panic starting to set in, the way the world was starting to close in on you. You didn’t know what was going on, that was the truth.

How could a simple kiss on New Year’s be so confusing?

“Yn, a word?” Yoongi had the audacity to ask, nodding his head for you to follow him. He led you to the storage room, closing the door quickly behind you.

“Why are you introducing me to your mother as your girlfriend, Yoongi?” You rounded on him immediately, placing your hands on your hips in an attempt to seem more intimidating. At least, that’s what you hoped you looked like because you honestly felt like a toddler on the verge of a meltdown.

“Ha. Funny story. My mum has been harassing me about getting a girlfriend for years. At Christmas, I lied to her and told her that I had a girlfriend, but I didn’t tell her a name because, well, it was a lie. Then, yesterday she started questioning me about meeting my girlfriend and how she didn’t even know her name and I… gave your name. I’m sorry, please play along just for this afternoon.” He took your hands in his, even going as far as getting down on one knee so that you were gazing down at him.

You snatched your hands back. “Wha- no! My brother’s going to think I lied to him about this! Not to mention Hye-jin!”

“Please!” He rose to his feet again and clasped his hands together for a second. When it became clear that you weren’t going to budge, he rubbed his chin with both hands. “What if we make this mutually beneficial?”

“I don’t see how it’s going to be mutual. The only person benefitting here is you.”

“If you’re dating me, your brother won’t question your thing with Jimin.” Yoongi offered.

“I don’t have a thing with Jimin.” You pout. No, his stupid girlfriend had put an end to that dream. It was dumb anyway. Jimin was so far out of your league, it was unreal. He was so kind, and patient, and sweet, and funny. And the only sweet thing about you was the muffins you baked.

“Well, it will diffuse attention away from it, anyway.” Yoongi shrugged.

You frowned. “Why does your mum want you to have a girlfriend anyway?” It didn’t make sense to you. From the moment she found out about your kiss, Hye-jin had made the effort to tell you just how talented Yoongi was and how every major orchestra was already looking into hiring him after university. It didn’t make sense to you that his mum was focusing on his love life.

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not so much as she wants me to have a girlfriend, just… she thinks I’m too old to be single.”

“Because that makes sense. You’re what? Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-six and it does when you know she wants grandkids. She’s not getting any younger.” Yoongi muttered.

“Seriously?” You raised your brow at him.

“Look, I helped you on New Year’s Eve. Help me now. We can break up whenever you want, I promise.”

“So, if I wanted to break up now?”

“Well, no. Not now.”

“Relax, I’m kidding. Partially, anyway.”

Okay, Yn. Think. Pros and cons. Pros: it’s going to be a whole lot easier to convince Jungkook that there’s no issue between you and Jimin if you have a boyfriend. Hye-jin will stop talking Yoongi up. Jin will stop talking about your lack of a love life. Jimin might realise his feelings for you and break up with his girlfriend.

Okay, maybe not that one.

Cons: you have to fake date…which is pretty much dating. Which means you’re probably going to have to spend time with Yoongi. Which could mean that real feelings might... That’s the cliché, right? You fake date and then you fall in love? But you already know that you won’t fall in love with Yoongi. How could you when you’ve already met the one.

Oh god, you’re spiralling. Time to stop thinking. Just pick one.

“Fine. I’ll do it, I guess. I mean, I could tell Jungkook that it’s still new and when he asked the other day, we hadn’t really talked about things. Then I’m not really lying to him…” But even as you said the words, it sent a surge of panic through you. This was nuts. This was an insanely stupid idea. You obviously shouldn’t go through with this. The cons far out weighed the pros.

God, why were you so stupid?

“Thank you.” Yoongi pulled you into a hug. His arms wound around your waist and you settled your hands on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he said again, squeezing you slightly.

“You’re welcome,” you replied softly, closing your eyes as you wondered just how much trouble this was going to cause. You pulled away, not far enough to break the embrace, but enough that you could see his face. “But we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Of course.” Yoongi nodded his head, brown eyes never leaving yours.

You shivered when he shifted the position of his hands slightly. You stepped back completely, breaking his hold.

“Yeah, we should probably get back out there. Before they start thinking we’re doing more than talking.” Yoongi laughed, already moving towards the door.

You stood there, completely frozen as his words washed over you.

“Doing… more…?” You repeated softly as you stared at Yoongi’s back.

He opened the door, apparently unaware of your current shock, as he turned back to face you.

“You ready?” He held out his hand for you to leave first.

Yes, this was certainly a bad idea. But there was no way to back out of this now.

<Part 6 (x) Part 8>

Tag list: @salty-for-suga​ @lylanie12​ @agusttaegid​ @mochiteddybear​ @misscheesecakeee​ @thebluemoonlight​ @yourhoneymilkandtea​ @lidda​ @detectivebourbon @rjsmochii​ @taeshuworld​ @sessi03​ @alyssa20077​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @shay-the-turtle​ @jisnuq​ @herosvillians87​@itiswhatitisnt88​ @meowmeowyoongles​ @lyndseygoregasmxo​ @bang-tan-fan​ @sunrisemcp​

If you want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask!

AN: It’s been a while, I know. But I’m back with this update. I don’t know when the next update will be, what with Christmas and everything right around the corner, but I’m hoping to get back onto a regular writing schedule soon. I’m not saying I’m going on hiatus, because I’m still going to be here. But my updates are going to take a hit. I’m sorry! 

As for the tag list, a couple of you didn’t come up when I tried tagging you. If you’ve changed usernames, please let me know. I’ve left you there for this update, but I’ll be removing you unless I hear from you. Sorry!

#btsfaketext-net #nocturne #bts #bts fake text #bts fake text au #bts smau #bts sm #bts social media #bts social media au #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bte suga #bts yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you

[miraculouscontent]

Could we know More about this completely hypothetical situation, please?

Ah, yes, of course. *ahem* Well, in this completely hypothetical situation…

After Marinette opens the blog to fan submissions (it’s a subpage, so only people who subscribe to it get daily updates), Trixx is put in charge of accepting/rejecting.

Trixx is also aware of how Marinette downplays Chat’s behavior to Fu to keep the peace, along with the fact that people are quick to make fun of and mock Chat’s behavior. Thus, the Chat memes fill up the queue for approval and Trixx lets the funnier (and sometimes more critical) ones slip.

(Just to give you guys a scope of how frustrated people get with Chat, the beginning of “Weredad” happens after “Oblivio” in this AU. Won’t talk specifics, but I’ll just let anyone who remembers what happened there imagine how the public would react to Chat’s casual behavior during a certain part of it.)

Chat doesn’t follow the blog actively after a while, only checking back every now and then. However, he eventually catches wind of what’s happening and goes to Ladybug about it.

Ladybug really did think it was going to be a normal patrol.

She was wrong.

She’d just been standing there, waiting for Chat to arrive for patrol. She pulled out her yoyo, opening it to check on LadyBugOut.

But, before she could even touch the yoyo’s screen, a black, gloved hand had slapped it away. Her yoyo careened across the flat rooftop, stopping a solid distance away. It sat there pathetically, screen still opened.

At first, Ladybug could only stare at her fallen yoyo, in complete disbelief that someone had honestly just come out of nowhere and done that.

And that wasn’t even taking into account who’d done it in the first place.

After a few seconds, Ladybug finally looked up, staring blankly at a very angry Chat. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get a syllable out, Chat unleashed all of his frustration.

“Do you think this is funny?! Is this some sort of joke to you?!”

Ladybug blinked, confused and startled by the outburst. “I–I’m sorry?”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it!”

Given his current emotional state, she wasn’t going to bother explaining that she wasn’t actually apologizing and was just confused.

Chat, still fuming, turned his attention to one of his pockets. Unzipping it, he reached inside and pulled out a phone. After doing what looked like unlocking it, he shoved it into Ladybug’s hands.

“Explain this!” he demanded.

She gave him a look, vaguely wondering how he could just go up to her, knock her yoyo away, and then order her to do something, but she went along with it.

Looking down at the phone, Ladybug noted that it was the LadyBugOut website. Specifically, the fan submissions page.

She stared blankly, even squinting a bit as she tried to figure out what he was so angry about.

“I… don’t–”

“These!” Chat yelled, pointing at the screen.

He was pointing to an assortment of memes of all things; memes that people had made of him.

Some were admittedly a little mean, but they were mostly harmless. Even a screenshot of her destroyed bedroom (thanks, Gigantitan) was followed by a fake Chat caption of, “I could go check on the creator of m’lady’s blog, but my jokes are a full-time job.”

Ladybug glanced back up at him. “Chat, they’re just–”

“They’re mocking me!” Chat interjected. “They all are! Ever since LadyBugOut started, everyone wants to get on my case for every little thing!”

“…We’re heroes, Chat,” she gently reminded him. “That’s why I take heroism very seriously–”

“Is that why you did this then?!” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “You let people post this stuff just to try and prove me wrong?!”

“Wha–no,” she replied bluntly. “I don’t approve these. Someone else does.”

Chat huffed, turning away with a scowl. “It’s just never your fault, is it?! It’s always someone else’s!”

Ladybug ignored his comment and continued, “I can’t run everything on LadyBugOut myself. I have a lot of people helping me out.”

A hiss followed. “Not me.”

She sighed. “We’re the two most active heroes, Chat. It’s a lot of work maintaining the blog. We usually have to split up right after a fight, so I knew it’d be weird having you on video inconsistently.

“Plus, you said you’d support my blog. You didn’t say that you wanted to help.”

Chat spun around, hand on his chest. “You didn’t ask!”

She gave him a flat, knowing look. “You’re always so quick to invite me out to places. I figured you’d insist on helping as soon as I mentioned it, if you’d really wanted to help.”

Chat opened his mouth, but stopped as her words caught up to him. His fake cat ears pointed up in surprise and he even let out a strangled noise.

“Y-you–!”

Ladybug shrugged. “I know you’re mad Chat, but I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Still seeing her yoyo laying sadly nearby, she moved towards it.

Before she could even take two steps, she felt a hand grab her arm. The pull had more than enough force to make her look back at Chat.

He clearly wasn’t done talking.

“Chat–” Ladybug glanced back at her yoyo, about to ask him if she could at least put it back on her waist.

Then, her eyes fell upon the screen, which wasn’t the same as it had been before it’d initially hit the rooftop.

Her eyebrows rose in shock.

Immediately, she turned back to Chat. “Look, Chat–it-it’s okay. Calm down–”

Chat bristled, looking offended by the request. “Calm down?! You want me to be calm after all this?!”

“Chat, please, the yoyo–”

“What did I do to you, Ladybug?!” he asked.

Ladybug, now tense, tried to raise her voice so she couldn’t be interrupted again. “Nothing! Seriously, Chat–”

“Why are you trying to ruin what we have together?!” He pulled her closer, his hand still tight around her forearm. “We’re meant to be! The ladybug and the cat! Ladybug and Chat Noir! What do you have against destiny?”

Ladybug was about to respond, but paused, momentarily brought out of her panic by what he’d just said. “I–I just–wait–what?”

“How am I supposed to believe that some other guy can just come between us after everything we’ve been through? We flirt, we kissed twice, and we end up on each other all the time. We’re partners; special partners! We were chosen! We’re soulmates! What’s so hard about that?”

It was like the world had come to a halt. Ladybug felt a fire flaring up in her chest, and her free hand tightened into a fist.

She stepped back, pulling her arm free from Chat’s grip. She’d done it so abruptly that he jerked forward, even letting out an annoyed, “Hey!”

She didn’t listen, standing straight and firm. “First off, the world does not revolve around you, Chat! I never told anyone to come after you and I am not in charge of what people have said. Not everything I do has to do with you or our relationship!

Speaking of which, our relationship does not exist. We are not a couple. You kept that idea going for people and you are the one who’s upset that it’s not going how you want!”

Chat went to speak up, but Ladybug spoke first, the strength in her voice ensuring that he wouldn’t cut her off this time.

“Secondly, if I’d known that that’s how you saw all that banter, I never would’ve done it. I’m not flirting with you, Chat. Even I know that things get tense and it helps to lighten the mood with some banter, but clearly, that went right over your head.

“Thirdly, you seem to keep forgetting how those kisses happened, and that’s exactly because you never remembered in the first place. The first time, you were under Dark Cupid’s spell and I kissed you to save you. I didn’t want to do it, but I did to break the spell.

“Neither of us had our memories for Oblivio, and yeah, maybe something special happened. But, all that happened without us knowing about our experiences, our relationships with other people, and even who we were. That doesn’t sound very real to me. If I was going to kiss you, I’d rather have everything already be on the table.”

She stepped forward. Chat stepped back, still tense but too shocked to say anything.

Ladybug continued, “You want to know what you did wrong? Maybe it’s because, after all this time, you still can’t read me. Not on Face-to-Face, not when my voice was gone, and not when I needed you most. If you could’ve understood me, you would’ve seen when I was uncomfortable, known when I needed you to be serious, and–oh, yeah–”

She took a deep breath, not giving him a moment to respond before shouting, “–you would’ve noticed that I was trying to get your attention before because my yoyo has been RECORDING AND STREAMING EVERYTHING.”

The wind stilled. The world around them was silent. Neither of them even moved. They just stood there, staring at each other.

Chat’s eyes wavered. The anger from his face turned to dread. His fingers twitched.

Ladybug closed her eyes, wordlessly turning away from him and stepping towards her yoyo. Part of her expected him to grab her arm again, but he didn’t.

She picked up her yoyo, shutting it to stop the recording. She stroked along the surface, which was still unharmed, then let out a breath.

When she turned back around, Chat was gone.

#category: long post #word count: over 1000 #MC's Collabs #collab: LadyBugOut AU #MC's Writing #writing: story #other: ask and answer

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them. 

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for

Warnings: brief implied suicidal ideation (at the very end of the chapter)

Ao3 version

AN// I’m so sorry for taking so long to post this, school has been extremely hectic lately and I stupidly kept forgetting to post this until it was the middle of the night

Chapter Seventeen: Running away

The next day during lunch, Lucas was sitting with the other boys when Leo Demaury walked in with Alex and another guy from their year Lucas didn't know the name of. Halfway through taking a sip of his water, Lucas promptly spat his drink all over the table as he choked, eyes widening like saucers. The other three boys all gave him equally shocked faces, trying to move their food out of the spray instinctively.

Yann patted Lucas on the back, raising an eyebrow at his friend as he spluttered and coughed, eyes still glued to the other side of the room. "You okay, man?" Yann asked, half amused and half concerned.

Lucas nodded distractedly, watching Leo walk across the cafeteria towards the lunch queue, heart in his stomach. Arthur looked over his shoulder to see what Lucas was looking at and then his whole face contorted into one of shock and sympathy. He turned back to Lucas, smiling sympathetically and patting his hand across the table.

Yann narrowed his eyes at Arthur's gesture, looking back and forth between the two boys. "Am I missing something here?" Yann asked, putting his knife and fork down and turning sideways to glance at Lucas. Basile watched the scene unfold, water cup halfway to his mouth.

"It's nothing, Yann. Don't worry about it," he mumbled, glancing up to see if Leo was leaving. Instead, he just caught Arthur's eye. He was surprised to find a rather disapproving stare from the normally carefree boy. He sighed, looking away from Arthur. "Fine. Something happened on my date with Eliott on Friday and I found out he's bipolar when Leo came to shout at me because I lost him. And Leo's back apparently but he skipped math first period," Lucas explained, speaking rapidly and stumbling over his words. "That's how I got this," he added, raising his bandaged hand.

Basile's eyebrows raised and he put his cup back down finally, beginning to cut up a bit of his chicken. "Eliott's bipolar?" he said, shoving a piece in his mouth. Lucas nodded. "So is my mum. It's not that bad, usually."

At Basile's sudden casual admittance, the other three boys froze, staring at him in surprise. "Seriously?" Lucas asked, eyes bulging.

Basile nodded. "Oh, yeah. Had it for years. She's actually just fun when she's manic. Once flew to meet Brad Pitt and broke into his house or something," he explained through a mouthful of food, "Almost set fire to our house another time. What did Eliott do?"

"He stole his dad's credit card to rent out a movie theatre and then tried to jump off a bridge."

"He rented out a whole movie theatre just for a date?" Lucas nodded, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion. "Wow, that's awesome! I wish someone would do that for me," Basile exclaimed, splattering more food onto the table as he continued to eat like he hadn't seen food in decades. It was almost putting Lucas off eating.

"Bas, it's not 'awesome,' it's horrible! He could have gotten really hurt," Lucas chastised, scandalised.

"But he didn't."

"But he could have!"

Basile rolled his eyes, putting his cutlery down. "You can't just keep on worrying about the possibility of him getting hurt or you'll drive yourself mad. He didn't get hurt, so don't dwell on it," Basile stated. Lucas gaped at him, blinking. He exchanged confused glances with the other two.

"Did Basile just give good advice?" Arthur teased, sitting up straighter and nudging him in the side with a teasing glint in his eyes. "It must be the Second Coming or the end of the world!" Basile rolled his eyes, scowling. Arthur chuckled, shoulder checking his friend and almost knocking him out of his seat. As per usual, the two boys began full out attacking each other, pushing and shoving and swearing, gaining various looks from people at surrounding tables.

As they watched their friends fighting, Yann tapped Lucas' shoulder, pulling his eyes away to meet his dark brown ones, which were filled with concern still and—and surprisingly—a few tears. Lucas stared at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. In an instant, Yann pulled Lucas into another tight hug, knocking the wind out of him and patting him on the back. "Don't you dare go through something alone again, you hear me?" Yann whispered, voice short and breathless, choked up. Lucas nodded, his own eyes welling up with tears as he buried his face in his friend's shoulder. "That's what friends are for, you idiot," Yann added, making Lucas force out a broken laugh.

"I know. I'm sorry," Lucas whispered, holding his friend tighter, breathing shakily.

"Oi, get a room you two. You're both dating other people." Arthur's voice, humourous and light as always, broke the two boys out of their little bubble and they pulled apart. Lucas wiped a stray tear from his lashes using the back of his pointer finger and shared a knowing glance with Yann. He nudged Lucas playfully in the side and then, as if nothing had changed in the atmosphere, as if Leo wasn't staring daggers across the room, they both joined in on Arthur and Basile's meaningless chatter.

◇

That evening, while working on homework next to Manon at the coloc, Lucas felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Instantly, he dropped his pen and scrambled to pull his phone out to check who it was. Instead of Leo or even Eliott, however, a message from his mum was staring mockingly up at him, bordered by his lockscreen of him and Yann posing with a skateboard a while back.

Mama: Are you coming for dinner on Thursday?

As if he couldn't be any worse of a son, in the last few weeks of chaos, Lucas had completely forgotten about his mother's birthday.

Lucas: Of course. What time?

Mama: 17h?

Lucas: Sounds good. See you then

As he slid his phone back into his pocket, a feeling of disappointment at both himself and the universe settling on his shoulders, Manon sent him a curious glance, putting her own pen on the table. "Any news yet?" she asked, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his pockets. Since getting home that day, Lucas had confided in Manon more about the situation with Eliott.

Lucas shook his head. "Nope. It was actually a message from my mother," he replied, "I, uh, sorta forgot it's her birthday on Thursday. I'm a horrible son." He read over the message again and scrolled up some more to read other messages. All from his mother. Bible verses and confusing yet loving words. All left on read. Lucas sighed, putting his phone down on the table and burying his face in his hands, shaking his head at himself.

He felt Manon slipping an arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder blade where he was hunched over the table. "You're not a horrible son. It's not a crime to forget someone's birthday once." She rubbed her hand up and down his arm in a comforting manner, sending goosebumps all along his arm.

Lucas removed his face from his hands and sat back in his chair, facing Manon with a hopeless expression, tears in the corners of his eyes like glass pools. "But I am. I left her when she needed me most and I never replied to her texts because I never know what to say back," Lucas rambled, blinking back tears to keep the dam intact. "And now in all this mess I even forgot her birthday on top of that. Trust me, Manon, I'm a terrible son."

"Are you going to celebrate with her then?" she asked, clearly choosing to ignore his insistence for the time being. Lucas nodded, chewing on one of his thumb nails. "Then you can make it up to her then. Prove that you're not a horrible son and that you aren't going to run away anywhere." She squeezed his shoulders again, smiling and reaching up to swipe away a tear on his cheek. "You're not running away anywhere, are you?"

Lucas shook his head. "Definitely not. Not anymore."

◇

It was almost seven on Thursday and Lucas was standing on the front step of his old house, dressed in a simple white button down, blue jeans and a navy blazer, carrying a bouquet of lilies. Taking a deep breath, Lucas pressed his thumb on the doorbell.

After a few seconds, he heard the familiar click of the locks in the door and then the familiar smiling face of Colette, his mum's carer, appeared. "Lucas! Hello! Come on in, your mother is coming just now." She stepped aside, holding the door open to allow Lucas to step inside the warm house.

"Lucas?"

Looking up, a broad grin spread across Lucas' face as his mother made her way into the room, smiling fondly. She looked good, dressed in a simple navy v-neck dress and her blonde hair nicely styled to frame her face. She walked over to Lucas, arms open wide, pulling him into a hug. Lucas sighed, wrapping his arms around her and tucking his face in her shoulder, chest tight. He breathed in her familiar scent, allowing it to envelope him after months of lacking it. He missed having this.

"You brought flowers." Once Lucas pulled out of the hug, his mother gestured to the flowers by his side which were now dropping loose petals on the carpet from their embrace. Smiling, she took the flowers from Lucas and put them on the table by the front door to put in a vase later. "Let me get my purse and we can get going."

◇

The restaurant Lucas had picked was a quaint, family-owned Italian restaurant on the corner of a small, mostly empty street. It had a large bottle green awning overhanging various tables and chairs and was lit up by glittering fairy lights. Lucas' heart panged at the sight of the lights, but ignored it in favour of leading his mother inside the restaurant. Thankfully, there were only a few other people eating that night, the room filled with a pleasant hum of conversation and faint bubbling laughter.

The waiter standing to greet them was a handsome Italian-looking boy around Lucas' age, dressed in a white button down and black jeans, a green apron wrapped around his waist and his dark brown hair styled in a curly mess that fell into his eyes. "Welcome to Fratelli's! Have you got a reservation?" the boy asked, shooting Lucas and his mother a charming grin.

"Uh, yeah. It should be booked under Lallemant, I think," Lucas replied, returning the smile politely.

The boy scanned his clipboard in front of him for a moment and then looked back up at them, still grinning. "Here you are. If you'd please follow me." Lucas guided his mother through the maze of chairs and table by linking his arm with hers, occasionally turning to smile at her. Eventually, they reached a small booth laden with a small vase of scarlet flowers Lucas didn't recognise and a couple of off white candle sticks.

Once the waiter was gone, Lucas and his mother fell into a rather awkward silence, the atmosphere around them hesitant and unsure. It had been so long since they had been face to face that neither of them knew quite how to act around the other. Lucas swallowed anxiously, giving his mother another tight lipped smile.

"How have you been lately?" Lucas finally asked, not long after another waiter poured them both glasses of ice water and took their drink orders. He scanned the menu for something relatively affordable, glancing up as he waited for a reply.

"I'm doing much better now. Especially spending my birthday with you tonight," she replied cheerfully, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a long sip. "How are you, dear? How is school? Is there any girl in your life perhaps?" She turned the question back around on him, smiling expectantly at him.

Lucas cleared his throat, feeling a vein in his neck popping somewhere. He took his own gulp of the freezing water, stalling for time, grappling for a vague enough answer. "School is okay. Studying for the bac and going to parties with the guys sometimes," he replied, putting his drink down. "But uhh, no haven't got a, uh, girl in my life, no. I actually—"

Before he could finish, a waitress appeared by their table, dyed red hair tied in a high ponytail and clutching a small notepad. "Are you guys ready to order?" she asked, a broad, fake smile spread across her face. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Uh, I am. You?" Lucas glanced at his mother who replied with a short nod.

They ordered their food and finally, the waitress was wandering away, tucking her notebook into the back pocket of her jeans. As they fell back into silence, Lucas sent out a silent prayer to the universe, to any deities that may be out there, that his mother would be fine with changing the subject off of him and his potential love life.

Clearly, the universe had it out for him.

"What was it you were saying about girls, darling?" Mrs. Lallemant asked, raising her eyebrows to lead him on in his answer. It was then that Lucas recognised his own expression written on her face. Every reminder of just how similar they were pained Lucas to think about it. To think about how he'd left her.

Lucas drew a long breath, shutting his eyes briefly, on the brink once again. He was standing at the edge of a precipice, staring down at a seemingly endless abyss, no idea how far he was about to tumble. Lucas coughed, looking out across the precipice, grappling for the rights words like they were all that kept him from falling to his death. "Well, you see, the thing is… I haven't found a girl—well I don't want a girl because, well," he fumbled, face a furious crimson. He choked once again, wobbling, hand searching blindly for the glass of water to his right. "Because I'm gay."

"And I'm sorry if this ruins your birthday or if you never want to see me again, but yeah. I'm gay," he continued, voice picking up pace along with his heartbeat. His blood rushed in his ears deafeningly loud over the tinny of the restaurant. He had stepped off the edge and time was standing still.

Mrs. Lallemant's eyes softened further and she reached across the table, taking one of his hands, prying his fingers apart. He hadn't noticed how tightly he hand been gripping his hands into fists. "Lucas, my dear dear boy, from the moment I first saw you, I loved everything about you. Everything. I loved your bright beautiful blue eyes and your little giggles and those precious dimples," she said, hand tightening its grip, "I have loved you since the moment I first saw you and absolutely nothing could change that. If you are happiest with another boy, then I will be the happiest woman alive."

And just like that, Lucas landed. The fall he had expected turned into a leap upwards. Lucas squeezed his mother's hand, breathing shaky and tears welling up in his eyes. "You don't mind? Even though the Bible says—" he began, voice quaking.

Mrs. Lallemant cut him off, shaking her head. "I have no reason to judge you for who you are, for who you love, Lucas. I know God made you just as He wanted you to be because I know you. God wants you to be just the way you are and I have no right to change that." She leaned over the table carefully, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead that sent Lucas into a spiral. Just like that, as if her words or her simple affection had broken a dam, Lucas found himself sobbing in the middle of the restaurant. Great fat tears plummeted down his cheeks, relief settling in his chest so much he felt he could explode with it.

A throat cleared beside the table and when Lucas looked up, their waitress was back, carrying two plates of food and looking uncomfortable.

"What happened to your hand?" his mother asked once the waitress was gone and they were both tucking into their dinner. Lucas froze, knife scraping on the plate and making them both jump. He wiped the lingering dampness from his cheeks, sniffling.

"It's okay. I was being dumb. Something happened with a boy I like and I just got a little carried away with my emotions," he admitted, keeping his reply vague. He couldn't bring himself to say much else. Couldn't find it in himself to tell his mother about how he had hurt himself out of sheer frustration.

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?" she asked. She sounded scared then. Lucas would do anything to keep her from feeling that way again.

Lucas shook his head insistently, grabbing her hand again. "No, mum, don't worry. I couldn't do that." he insisted.

"That boy you liked, does he make you happy? Is he worth getting yourself so hurt like that?"

Lucas thought. He put his cutlery on the plate and looked down at their hands linked across the table. "I would like to think so, yeah."

◇

A little while later, Lucas was in the midst of rambling to his mother about biology, halfway through their shared slice of tiramisu. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in a long time. Even though he could tell his mother had no idea what he was talking about, was probably only half listening, Lucas felt overwhelmed by the fondness that seemed to drip from her every pore. It had been so long since Lucas had been with his mother and yet he felt like he had finally come home again, despite the initial awkwardness.

Lucas was about to ask his mother another question when he felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket. He ignored it, beginning to ask his mother something before the phone buzzed once again. And again. And again. Lucas sighed, reaching into his back pocket. "I'm sorry, I should probably check this," he apologised, looking down at the screen.

Leo: hey lucas i know we didn't exactly leave off very well but have you seen eliott or know where he might be by any chance?

Leo: we only got back from picking him up a few hours ago and now he's disappeared

Leo: please please call me if you know where he is.

Lucas' eyes bulged out of his skull as he scanned over the messages once, twice, a third time. Eliott was missing again? Where had they been picking him up from? Where was he now? What happened? Why was Leo asking him?

Lucas opened up his conversation with Eliott, fingers shaking, causing him to mistype and retype a hundred times over.

Me: Eliott where are you? Leo said they can't find you. We're all worried.

With another shuddering breath, Lucas put his phone facedown on the table, looking back up at his mother. She was fixing him with a concerned look, head tilted to the side and eyes soft. He felt thoroughly exposed for no reason.

"Is everything alright? You look suddenly worried," his mother asked, taking his hand once again, a sympathetic, soft smile on her lips now.

Before he could reply, he was cut off once again by the buzzing of his phone on the table. He gave his mum an apologetic smile and grabbed the phone, unlocking it faster than he ever had before.

Eliott: Dear Lucas, I want to first say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you the other day and for not telling you sooner. Leo told me you know now. I'm sorry I can't be enough for you. You deserve so much more than me. You deserve the whole world. I'm sorry for this most of all. But I deserve this instead. I definitely do not deserve you, Lucas. In this world I have always been alone and I always will be. I wish I didn't have to leave you but I never want to take you where I'm going. So instead I leave you with this.

Eliott: Lucas, from the moment I saw you I knew you were it for me. My whole life was just waiting for you. I'm happy for the short time we've had together. I hope in all the other universes that we can be together, that I can be enough for you. I'm sorry.

Below the last message was a picture of a drawing. A two piece cartoon. On one half, a raccoon and a hedgehog embraced in the light of a street lamp. On the other half, the raccoon sat alone, ears down and scowling, the light facing away from him. Underneath in Eliott's familiar scrawl it read: Eliott number 3798 has the courage

Lucas' phone slid from his hand, bouncing onto the floor with a faint crack, landing face down on the carpeted floor. And then Lucas' whole world crashed into the sun.

#skam france #elu #elu fic #eliott demaury #lucas lallament #next chapter probably coming sometime later this week as i'm finally on a break

[fen-ha-fuck-you]

As much as i don't like echo.If you see it from her view( and Spacekru cuz they didn't seem happy about it either) Clarke did betray them. Yeah they don't know what happened and stuff but still. I don't think Echo is going to try to kill Clarke but i think we the bellare fam are reaching when we say bellamy would turn on echo this season.As much as we don't like he does love her. but we'll what the confrontation between clarke and echo is about

I know this ask really wasn’t this deep, and I know it wasn’t centered around what Echo would or wouldn’t do, but let’s dive into that for a moment, shall we? Because I went deep with this response, and Echo’s moral compass has a lot to do with my ultimate argument of what Bellamy would or wouldn’t do. That is, of course, Bellamy would absolutely turn on Echo if she tries to hurt Clarke.

I’m also gonna apologize in advance, because I know this ask wasn’t sent with any kind of bad energy or intention, but the longer I kept writing this response the less cool with it I got, and I get very passive aggressive towards the end, so... you’ve got that to look forward to. 

I mean... Echo is the only one of Spacekru who was immediately like, “Yep, Clarke betrayed us, makes sense. I’ll deal with her at the first opportunity.” The last they heard, Clarke and Bellamy were negotiating for peace. Murphy, Emori, and Raven seemed more confused than anything, which is the actual correct reaction to have, given how relatively unbothered the others seemed about it. Bellamy—and Harper and Monty, to a lesser extent—know the context of why Clarke is already in the valley, and they know she also doesn’t want a war in the last survivable land on the planet. For all they know, Clarke has been doing what she always does and working with an ulterior motive from the inside, which considering the, “If [Clarke’s] on their side...” makes this point of view likely. These are also people who know Clarke far better than Echo ever will. If she was a good spy, she would realize the importance of that.

And... Echo is also the only one who has jumped on every opportunity to betray allies without a second thought. Even when we just look at season five. She’s been wanting to kill Shaw since she first met him, despite having proven himself as trustworthy and valuable. She pushed Raven into betraying him in the first place. 

Despite appearances, I want to like Echo. I do. But even when you’re trying, it is very difficult to like a character when they are constantly making decisions that go against the best interests of literally every actual likable character on the show. That being said, let’s look at what has happened in the text.

So far this season, Echo has done the following: been a terrible spy (canonically, this has been stated explicitly by Diyoza once and Raven twice, possibly more that I’m forgetting), shoved a flash drive into the bullet wound of a woman she told she’d keep safe less than a half hour previous (the merits of which are up for debate, but not on this post, please for the love of god), chosen to go behind Raven’s back to sell Shaw out to Diyoza (which Raven asked her not to do because she had another plan already), threatened to kill Shaw on numerous occasions (despite that being incredibly strategically illogical considering he’s the only pilot, as Raven points out), and immediately rejects the idea that Bellamy and Clarke had a valid, separate plan because of how she thinks Octavia would’ve reacted, despite Bellamy and Clarke very obviously knowing Octavia far better (in which case the actual outcome of Bellamy and Clarke’s plan doesn’t matter, because Echo had no context, she just decided her plan was superior).

That’s not even everything, but the paragraph is long enough.

My point here being that Echo’s characterization this season can be pretty much summed up as, “I don’t care if it doesn’t make complete sense or hurts people I care about, this is what I’ve decided is right, and I’m not going to listen to anyone else’s opinions about it.” If that kind of sounds like Octavia’s characterization this season, too... yeah.

I don’t know if Echo is going to try to kill Clarke. What I do know, based on what I’ve seen from her this season, is that even if given evidence to the contrary or opposed by Murphy, Raven, or Emori, if Echo comes to the conclusion that Clarke (or Madi!) is a threat, she’s going to try to take her out of the equation. 

Echo is, as of now, under the impression that Clarke (and Madi, by extension) are not a part of her family. And, to be fair, they’re not. But they’re Raven’s family. And Murphy’s. And Monty and Harper’s. But most importantly, Clarke (and Madi) are very much a part of Bellamy’s family.

Therein lies the tension.

The idea that Bellamy wouldn’t turn on Echo if she were to turn against Clarke is... laughable at best. I never said Bellamy doesn’t love Echo. What I am saying is that the line where Bellamy says he loves Echo specifically was cut from 5x06 for a reason. Echo was completely removed (with the exception of a couple frames of nose) from the end of 5x03 for a reason. And the fact that it was the same editor for both of those episodes has not escaped my notice (shoutout to you, Daniel Martens).

Look. This whole season has been a giant neon sign above Bellamy’s head saying, “ASK ME WHAT I’D DO TO PROTECT CLARKE GRIFFIN.” And the response is a resounding, “Whatever it takes.”

Bellamy didn’t want to harm the Eligius prisoners in cryo. But when he found out that Clarke was alive and in danger, he was willing to trade all 283 of their lives for hers without hesitation. 

Bellamy had never wanted to hurt Octavia. Ever. In fact, there was a whole episode this season about how he wasn’t willing to hurt her, even while she was directly threatening Echo’s life. I’m sure a lot of people don’t, but I definitely remember 5x06. Bellamy’s response to that was to run away. 

What did it take for Bellamy to turn against Octavia, his sister, his responsibility, the person he’s been trying to keep safe at his own expense, for four and a half seasons? What did it take? 

Octavia looked him in the eye and told him she was going to execute Clarke. That was the real beginning of the ever-expanding Blake sibling rift finally tearing open. 

Without even mentioning Octavia calling out Bellamy’s feelings for Clarke: Octavia knew he’d come to her, but she thought he was going to beg. Even Octavia, who knows how Bellamy feels, didn’t think that he’d poison her. 

Bellamy Blake poisoned Octavia because he couldn’t let her kill Clarke Griffin.

So, let me just make sure I have this right. You think that Bellamy Blake, who, upon seeing who his sister had become, poisoned her for threatening Clarke’s life and later denounced her as his family... wouldn’t also do that to Echo?

In case anyone has gotten this far and is still somehow unconvinced that that opinion is... wrong... I’ll go a step further.

Bellamy and Echo’s conversation in 5x01 is incredibly important, in that it outlines their relationship’s downfall... perfectly. It also plays into my theory that Echo hasn’t actually changed, but that’s not the point of this. So, jumping around a little:

Bellamy: “Wouldn’t it be easier to just step outside?”

The conversation quite literally opens with a callback to who the two of them were six years ago, the last time we saw them. 

Bellamy: “Nothing is gonna change on the ground.”

Considering that literally the first thing that changes on the ground is that Bellamy finds out Clarke is alive? Self-explanatory, next.

Echo: “I’m still banished. What if Octavia tries to—”Bellamy: “No, she won’t.”

She did. Almost immediately.

Echo: “You do remember I almost killed your sister.”Bellamy: “My sister will understand... she’ll forgive you, too.”Echo: “Bellamy, it took you three years.”

Hold on... let me just queue up 5x08 real quick...

Clarke: “I’m sorry that I tried to...”Bellamy: “Kill my sister?”Clarke: “Suddenly I’m the one letting my heart rule my head.”Bellamy: “Mama bears don’t think. They just protect their young.”

Six years later and the Bellarke Near-Instantaneous Forgiveness is still kicking, got it. Next?

Bellamy: “Whatever we run into down there, Octavia will be the least of our worries.”

If this one needs explaining, then I can’t help you.

At the end of that scene, Echo goes to follow Bellamy out, then turns back and grabs her sword. She’s choosing the person she was on the ground.

There is one important aspect of that 5x01 conversation that I saved for the end here, specifically because we haven’t seen it be proven false like all the rest. Yet. But after 5x11, there’s a foundation.

Bellamy: “We’re family, and nothing can change that.”

5x11 showed us a pivotal moment in Bellamy’s character arc. He is no longer willing to hold on to relationships that hurt himself or the people he loves, even if the relationship he’s cutting off is with someone he loves. 

Octavia was his family. Octavia’s choice to try and execute Clarke started Bellamy’s active opposition of her behavior and her actions (as opposed to his passive opposition throughout the show until this moment). In 5x11, Bellamy explicitly told Octavia, the audience, and himself, that Octavia is no longer his family. 

It took Bellamy three years to forgive Echo for her actions on the ground. When he sees her again, there’s the distinct possibility of Bellamy either being told or realizing for himself that... she is making the same decisions she would’ve made six years ago. And if she tries to kill Clarke? They’re right back where they were in 4x01.

If you still think for one moment that Bellamy Blake wouldn’t be willing to stop calling Echo family for the same reasons he denounced his sister, who had been family for almost his whole life? I don’t know what else to say to you.

#the 100 #bellarke #echo #the 100 spoilers #spoilers #meta #long post #i put it under a cut but just in case #anonymous #ask

[turnupswritessometimes]

Banana Fish - AshEiji - Skipping Stones Ch7

Title: Skipping Stones

Part: 6/?

Word Count: 4326

Description: A collection of oneshots filling in some scenes that probably didn't happen in between episodes/scenes, but that I like to think did because these boys need to talk to each other.

Edit: This fic is also available on A03 under the same name. I would post a direct link but Tumblr then doesn’t put the post in searches so..

“Hey,” Ash’s foot nudged Eiji’s arm. It kept nudging Eiji’s arm until he looked up from the camera and tripod, raising an eyebrow at Ash. Sometimes, he really did behave like a child. “Let’s go – I’m taking you out.”

Eiji stared at him. Ash was sat on his bed, resting on his hands and looking up at Eiji like this was the most casual thing in the world. Like they weren’t sat in the bedroom just to take pictures of whoever happened to walk through Golzine’s front doors. He was taking Eiji out, even though Eiji was meant to be spying for him.

“What?” Eiji asked. Was Ash just bored? “Where? Why?”

“The cinema,” Ash said it like it was obvious. “You've probably never been, right?”

“They have cinemas in Japan, Ash.” When had he started saying Ash’s name like that? So softly - like it was something special?

“What's the Japanese word for cinema?” Ash asked. He had taken to that – randomly asking for words in Japanese. Eiji wasn’t sure if he was teasing or genuinely remembering them. Knowing Ash Lynx, it was probably both.

“Eigakan,” he said, watching Ash stand out of the corner of his eye. He kept staring out the window resolutely.

“You haven't been to a New York cinema,” Ash said, he tugged on Eiji’s belt loop and Eiji let himself be turned around.

“No. I haven't.”

“So, come on,” there was no arguing with Ash when he was like that. Eiji followed him from the room, grabbing a jacket on his way by.

“What are we going to see?” he asked at Ash’s back. He paused and glanced back at Eiji.

“Does it matter? People go to the cinema to snog all the way through the movie.”

“Are you saying you want to snog me all the way through a movie?” Eiji smiled, stopping just in front of Ash so that they were almost nose to nose.

“You are my boyfriend, after all,” Ash said. He looped his fingers back into Eiji’s belt loops, pressing their waists against each other.

Eiji grinned. He hadn’t been able to stop grinning. He put his hands over Ash’s, wondering if they should just skip the movie. Maybe they should just stay here, like this.

But he also wanted to go outside. He understood why he had to stay in, he was fine with that – but he was starting to go stir crazy. He needed a walk.

Ash would protect him, if anything happened. He released Eiji a moment later, scooping up his denim jacket as he headed through the apartment. Eiji grabbed his own – well, he grabbed one that he was borrowing from Ash – an orange baseball jacket he was sure made him stand out like a sore thumb. But it was also the one that made Ash smile at him, pausing with his hand on the door handle.

“What?” Eiji’s cheeks felt hot, his hands still on the collar of the baseball jacket.

Ash leant over and ruffled his hair. “It suits you. You look cute.”

Eiji batted his hand away, pretending to frown. He didn’t do a good job of it.

“Shut up, that’s you. You’re the baby,” Eiji grinned at him. They had barely made it out the door.

He expected Ash to frown back, but instead he smiled sweetly at Eiji, his head tilted towards him.

“It’s hard to remember you’re so wise and worldly when you’re so short.”

Eiji gave him a playful shove. If they had been standing back in the apartment, he knew that Ash would have caught his wrist and kissed Eiji – on the mouth or nose or temple – anywhere that would make Eiji grin and lean into him.

But they weren’t in the apartment. Ash didn’t catch Eiji’s wrist, he just smirked and locked the door and that was that. He understood why. The closer they seemed to each other the more danger Eiji was in.

“Aren’t you scared that we’re being followed?” he asked as they stood in the elevator, an Eiji and Ash staring at them from all sides.

“I’ll know if we’re being followed,” Ash said dismissively.

“Do you try to sound like James Bond, or does it just come naturally?” Eiji asked.

“It comes naturally.”

He loved this. He loved these days, where they could just ignore the gangs and the drugs and the guns and just – be.

Ash wandered through the streets like they were his back garden. They got the subway further into Manhattan, into more neutral territory. It was easy to forget about everything else. It was easy just to focus on Ash and making Ash laugh, even if it meant Eiji deliberately went stumbling down the subway train. Because he liked hearing that laugh – Ash’s genuine laugh.

He moved through the streets like they were his own back-garden, barely looking at where he was going. He watched Eiji’s mouth or eyes as he talked.

They stopped suddenly, coming to a halt in front of up to the cinema an old building squashed between modern department stores. A relic of another time that looked completely out of place.

"Is this a particular favourite or something?" Eiji asked ducked his head to look at Ash as they stepped through the doors. Automatic. It looked wrong against the old architecture.

Ash shrugged. He looked at Eiji as though considering something, bit his lip for a moment, then admitted, "I don't actually go that much."

"Yeah, I guess you'd be busy," they joined the end of the queue. It was old fashioned inside too, with velvet rope barriers and old movie posters in rusting frames on the walls.

"Busy, and-" Ash did that pause again. He was standing casually, his hands stuck in his pockets, but he looked almost nervous. Maybe he was looking out for people following. "I never really went - I watch all my movies online," that was illegal, Eiji thought, but almost everything he's done since coming to America was illegal, so he couldn’t exactly talk. "It was always operas or ballets when I was teenager."

Eiji opened his mouth to ask how come, and then the answer hit him and he shut it again.  He never knew what to say when Ash spoke about It. All he knew was that he wanted to make him feel a little better about it.

"You're not missing much," Eiji said. "People are annoying in the cinema. They eat and talk and-"

"Snog?"

"Yeah. Does that happen at the opera?"

"No, thank-" Ash paused. Eiji got the sense he was changing his usual phrase. "God."

He stepped up to the counter and only then Eiji realised that he had no idea what they were seeing, or what he wanted to see. Ash glanced at the board behind the staff and rattled off a name as though they had discussed it.

"Sweet or salty popcorn, sweetie?" Ash asked and Eiji wondered if he meant to say it or it it had just slipped out.

"One of each and we'll share," he said.

"Clever," Ash smiled and nodded to the guy and Eiji felt a flush of pride run through him. He passed the boxes to Eiji as he handed over the cash.

“So what are we seeing?” popcorn tumbled out of the tops of the boxes and onto the faded carpet.

“Some action film,” Ash shrugged, holding the doors into the theatre open as Eiji passed. “It’ll pass the time, right?”

He couldn’t argue with that.

The theatre was mainly full of teenage boys. A few bored girlfriends glanced across at them as they settled into the back row. Of course Ash had brought tickets for the back row. He was so incredibly cheesy like that.

And Eiji loved that.

He wanted to lean against Ash, but he wasn’t brave enough whilst the lights were still on. He felt as though everyone was looking at them, trying to figure out if they were together or not. It shouldn’t bother him – he shouldn’t care – but he was acutely aware of the danger that came with being close to Ash Lynx, and he couldn’t help but wonder if anyone here was going to report back about the two of them.

No, that was just an excuse. He was a coward. He had no idea how to do this – relationships weren’t something Eiji had ever bothered with. Now he had no idea what to do.

But if Ash noticed, he didn’t care. He kept making sarcastic comments to Eiji during the trailers, tilting his head across so that only Eiji could hear. He made him laugh.

It was all easy. It was like they had known each other years – had been with each other years, instead of a couple of weeks.

A couple of weeks. And so much had happened in that time. Eiji felt closer to Ash than anyone else in the world, but he supposed that was normal. They had risked their lives for each other. Multiple times. He didn’t have that kind of relationship with anyone else.

No one else made him feel quite like Ash did. The warmth in his chest and the feeling of belonging.

He was so lucky to have that. He was so lucky to have that with Ash – and to have Ash back. He didn’t know if Ash felt the same, but he could guess from those looks Ash gave him.

The film had started, but Eiji was barely able to pay attention. He could see those looks as though Ash was right in front of him. His eyes softening and sparkling like they were full of fireworks as he looked at Eiji. Like Eiji was the only thing in the whole world that was worth looking at.

It was unbelievable – that out of everyone, Ash gave Eiji that look.

He felt something warm settle comfortably on his thigh. Ash’s hand. It sat there like it had always sat there, like it was natural. 

“Ash-“ Eiji whispered, unable to get another word out when he felt Ash’s fingers squeeze. His stomach stirred.

“You mean that's not the armrest?” Ash murmured back.

Eiji couldn’t help it – he laughed. It was a lot louder than he had meant it to be and people turned to glare at him. It turned into a snicker, instead, and he put his hand over Ash’s, turning it over and linking their fingers together.

“Eiji – if I go too far-“ Ash started, his mouth against Eiji’s ear.

“Don’t think about it,” Eiji whispered. He turned back and realised they were nose to nose. He could barely separate Ash’s eyes in his vision. “I’ll follow you, Ash.”

Ash kissed him. It only took a slight tilt of the head and his lips were only against Eiji’s for a moment, but Ash’s mouth was warm and soft and it made Eiji’s heart melt.

“I can’t stop you from following me,” Ash whispered. People were starting to really glare at them now, Eiji could see them turning around in the corner of his eye.

“Nope,” Eiji mouthed it more than said it.

“You shouldn’t, you know,” Ash was still whispering. “People die when they’re around me.”

He was almost word for word with the movie going on in the background. Eiji wondered if Ash was deliberately acting it out.

“You sound like something from a teenage vampire novel,” Eiji said. He squeezed Ash’s fingers. “I know the risk, Ash. I’ve always known.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” someone ‘sshh’ed Ash and he held his middle finger up blindly at whoever it was.

“It plays on my mind,” Eiji whispered back. “But, carpe diem, right? I want to be by your side, so I’m staying by your side.”

“I can’t change that, can I?”

“No.”

Ash stopped flipping random people off, cupping Eiji’s cheek instead.

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered.

“Yeah, basically,” Eiji said. It was easy to be bold in the dark, to kiss Ash and feel him smiling.

“What am I going to do with you?” Ash muttered to himself. His hand moved from Eiji’s cheek to the nape of his neck, his fingers buried in the ends of Eiji’s hair. Eiji just smiled, kissing him again.

His heart was racing, and Ash seemed to know, because he pulled away and rested his forehead against Eiji’s. Giving him space. Ash was taking this slow, being so incredibly gentle with him – like he was scared of breaking Eiji. It was a secret relief. He stared at him in the dark, monotone from the light of the screen. His eyes seemed like two sparks. Eiji, against his judgment, was seeing Ash in that suit again. That suit with a gun. An action hero. He let himself imagine another life, a life of 20s gangsters – crime as something glamorous and exciting. Mob bosses the way mob bosses should be – the way they were in films.

No, he could see Ash stood on the end of a dock, staring at a green light in the distance. Ash Lynx at the centre of a party, dazzling Eiji with a grin and calling him ‘old sport.’

Something exploded on the screen and Eiji glanced at it. He realised he had no idea what was happening. He decided he didn’t care, as Ash caught his attention by kissing his cheek. He turned back, revelling in the feeling of Ash curling the hair at the nape of his neck.

Ash was a lot more interesting than the movie, anyway.

*

They went to the Empire State building that afternoon. Eiji had insisted, smiling at Ash and swinging his hand until he finally gave in. He was huffing and puffing and rolling his eyes the whole way there, but he couldn’t control the smiles. He couldn’t control those sneaky glances at Eiji that he was starting to catch out of the corner of his eye, but had to ignore if he wanted to see them again.

“I don’t know why you even want to go – it’s just a tall building,” he said.

“It’s the Empire State,” Eiji said. “It’s iconic. You wouldn’t have me go to New York and not see it?”

“It’s so touristy,” Ash made a face and Eiji laughed.

“I am a tourist,” he said. They paused outside the building. Looking up made him feel as though he was going to fall over backwards.

Ash held the door open for him as they walked in. “I believe you came over here on a work visa, Mr Okumura.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t done a lot of work, have I?” Eiji walked backwards to talk to Ash, his hands behind his back as he smiled up at him. Ash was smiling back, bemused. “All I managed to do was interview you.”

“All you managed to do was get the greatest interview with a handsome and charismatic New York gang leader,” Ash said. They joined the end of the queue to buy tickets.

Eiji laughed again. He liked this – he liked laughing that laugh. “He’s modest, too.”

“Hey, I said no photos of my face, didn’t I?”

Eiji felt like that was another cue for him to laugh, but he didn’t. There was something in Ash’s voice that he was started to recognise. A bitterness that he couldn’t quite hide. He paused, letting his eyes fall down Ash’s face.

“I assumed it was so that no one knew who you were,” he muttered.

Ash placed a hand on his shoulder. The queue moved and they stumbled with it like it was a dance.

“I don’t like pictures of myself,” Ash’s mouth was close to Eiji’s ear. Like he was admitting a secret. “I haven’t seen one in years.”

It felt like someone had put a crack right along Eiji’s heart and that beads of blood were dripping out from it. He was never quite prepared for when Ash said something like that, when he guessed, rather than knew all the implications that came along with it. Which was worse – guessing or knowing?

He was starting to figure out what to say. ‘Sorry’ made Ash shrug and change the subject, like he knew that Eiji was feeling uncomfortable. No, it always had to be something slightly different. Something that told him that he wasn’t scared of Ash – holding a hand out for a wild animal to sniff.

“Good thing I left my camera back at the apartment then,” he said.

Ash’s hand tightened on his shoulder, turning Eiji so that he didn’t walk into the other people in the queue, but also resting his forehead there.

“How are you so okay with it?” his voice was still a half-whisper.

Eiji shrugged, a hand coming up to touch Ash’s hair, to push it away from his face, but only succeeding in giving him an awkward pat.

“Because I don’t want you to feel weird about it,” he replied. He wasn’t sure if it was exactly true, he wasn’t sure quite what was going on with it, but it seemed to be good enough. Good enough to get Ash to lounge against the pillar instead, shuffling along with the queue. “I didn’t like pictures of myself for a while. I must have been – thirteen or fourteen? I only just let my sister keep photos of me again when I was seventeen-ish.”

“So, I don’t get to see photos of an awkward, baby Eiji?” Ash was smirking like a wolf.

“Never,” Eiji turned away from him, hearing him do that bark-laugh and ignoring it.

“I bet you were adorable.”

“You won’t find out.”

“Your sister will tell me.”

“You don’t even know my sister’s name.”

“I can find out. I’m sure she has stories to tell about you.”

Eiji pouted at him. There were. Several. He knew Ash would just laugh and ruffle his hair and tease him about it, which was even worse. He’d be so nice about it. And there would be that look in his eye, that ghost of the person that Ash could have been peeking through. He wouldn’t say it, Eiji knew, but it would be hanging in the air. He hadn’t been an awkward child making mistakes.

“That’s fine. When you meet her, I’ll just make up plenty of embarrassing stories about you,” he said.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Well, I can hardly tell her that I’m dating a gang leader, can I?” Eiji smiled sweetly.

Ash frowned at him, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He seemed to be finding it harder and harder to hide those smiles from Eiji and Eiji was revelling in it. He opened his mouth to reply, his cheeks pink, when an abrupt voice cut across them.

“How many, please?”

Ash blinked, seeming to come back into reality.

“Oh, um, two – please.”

He paid with cash, because of course he did. Eiji supposed it was only safe to.

“You wanna take the stairs?” Ash asked, handing Eiji’s ticket to him.

“No.”

“I thought you were an athlete?”

“Not anymore,” Eiji grinned, then shrugged. “I don’t really want to get all sweaty on a date.”

They were following a crowd of bright eyed tourists over to the elevators, and Ash paused in his step just long enough for Eiji to notice.

"This is a date?" he asked.

"Isn't it?" It was crowded and they were squashed against each other. No one else in here seemed to have bothered with deodorant.

"As long as that's okay," Ash said. He had a hand on the wall behind Eiji, shielding him from everyone else. His clothes still smelt of cigarette smoke from the last time he saw Max. Cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. Eiji couldn't figure out if Ash wore it to fit in or as an act of rebellion. He figured it was both, Ash never did anything for one reason.

"Of course it's okay," it was crowded enough that Eiji felt safe in taking Ash's hand.

He realised it when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Ash was still frowning as they were waved through the corridor to the next one.

“Your visa,” he said. “Is everything okay with your visa?”

“Yeah,” Eiji was only half-lying. He assumed everything was okay, because Ibe had set it all up for him. On the plane, he had known the ins and outs, but he had forgotten them now. It seemed so trivial. “Yeah, I’m sure everything’s fine.”

“When does it run out?”

He didn’t like that question. There was something in Ash’s voice that gave him away. He was planning to send Eiji back, asking nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter. So, he shrugged. “I’ll have to check.”

“I want you to be able to go, if you have to.”

“Can we stop talking about it?” Eiji didn’t mean to snap. He supposed a little bit of him did, though. It was all anyone seemed to be saying to him anymore and no one seemed to listen to his response. “That’s twice you’ve told me to leave today, Ash. Stop it now. I don’t want to hear another word about my going anywhere, okay?”

He had seen Ash grinning and shrugging at the outburst. He had seen Ash give him those soft eyes and telling him he was unbelievable and stubborn.

He hadn’t expected Ash to look at him with such a serious expression and remain silent for such a long time. The second elevator dinged again before he replied with a murmured, but sincere. “Okay.”

It had made Eiji twitch with guilt, and as they stepped onto the roof of the Empire State building he said. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t apologize for telling me off,” there was the smile again, and Ash had stepped in front of Eiji to block his view as they headed towards the doors to the observation deck. “Especially not when I deserve it – I didn’t know you could be so scary, Eiji.”

“Shut up,” but relief was flooding through him. He didn’t really think Ash would stay mad at him, but he couldn’t stand the thought of them fighting. He didn’t want to be angry at Ash, for anything. And he figured that being mad at Ash was a lot like being angry at a dog – after five minutes and a glance at him, he would be forgiven. “And get out of the way.”

“How much do you trust me?” Ash put his hands either side of the doorway out to the observation deck, to the tutts of people around them. He didn’t seem to care, but Eiji felt everyone’s eyes on him.

“Fine,” Eiji closed his eyes, pretending to huff to let everyone else know that he was annoyed too. But he was smiling, he never seemed to stop smiling around Ash.

People muttered, he stood there, his eyelids flickering as he heard them pass. Ash’s hands appeared on his hips, letting him know where he was as he stepped around Eiji. After a moment, his hands reappeared over Eiji’s eyes.

He let himself be guided forward.

“I thought you said it was just a tall building,” he said.

“It is,” Ash replied from behind him. “But, you know, you want to see it, so-“

Eiji felt himself bump into the ledge of the building and his hands found the mesh around the roof. Ash dropped his hands back to Eiji’s waist, resting his chin on Eiji’s shoulder. For a moment, Eiji could kid himself he was still back in their apartment – that first day they moved in. Ash had done the same thing then and he had set Eiji’s heart racing. Feeling Ash there had made him feel so incredibly safe – despite the reason for the move. It had felt like home.

But up here Eiji could feel the wind on his face and through his hair. It raised goosebumps on his arms.

He opened his eyes and the sky seemed to stretch on forever. It was the moment that he was over the bar and all he could see was blue going on forever and forever. The moment he could kid himself he was flying.

But there wasn’t the head rush of going back over the bar. He was still stood there, still flying. Flying over the top of Manhattan.

The city looked strange from up here. Less busy and noisy, but he supposed even a concrete jungle looked beautiful from bird’s eye view. It was a sprawling landscape of greys, but the monochrome of it all gave it the air of a renaissance painting. He stared at the rows and rows of apartment blocks – so many people with so many lives, and he could stare at it all like a mirage of mankind.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathed. He found Ash’s hair with his hand, ruffling it because he knew it disgruntled him and he would look up. “I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

Ash shrugged pulling away from Eiji and starting to walk around the roof. Their spot was immediately taken by two tourists with huge cameras. The moment was over, now he could only glimpse the view from over people’s shoulders.

“What’s up?”

“I get vertigo,” Ash said, over his shoulder. “It makes me feel funny to stand by the edge.”

“Then keep hold of me, yeah?” Eiji offered his arm and, with an especially dramatic roll of his eyes, Ash took it. He was noticeably subdued, at least to Eiji, barely looking out at the city, apart from pointing landmarks out to Eiji. He didn’t even need to look for that long.

Eiji let him lean against him and reassured him every so often – he received an indignant snort for his troubles. It made him feel strange, to be the one looking after Ash, but it felt right. It felt like he was repaying his debt. And someone had to take care of Ash. If he let Eiji, then fine.

Eiji would be there for him.

#banana fish #bananafish #banana fish fanfiction #banana fish fanfic #ash lynx #aslan jade callenreese #eiji okumura #asheiji #ash x eiji #ash/eiji

[namjoonchronicles]

wall of ours | nj

▶ I do believe in our galaxy.

Cruel as it may seem, loyalty cannot be measured. It takes years to built, and seconds to demolish, just like trust. Marriage is a gamble. It's a contract between two hearts, with principles and liability--some kind of law-abiding relationship coated with the presence of the most fundamental element as a foundation; which is indisputable, love.

"Namjoon, please don't forget to wash the dishes," you rushed outside to the living, shoving your phone into your purse, zipping it as quickly as you can while he handed you your car keys with a small smile. His eyes are in the shape of crescents as the corner of his lips curl upward. He placed one hand on the door frame, the other holding it open and lowered his face, fishing for a kiss from you. 

Your hands placed themselves on each side of his cheek and pull him down, giving him what he wanted with little to no hesitation. He chuckles through his nose when you reminded him once more that you needed the house cleaned wherever possible. "I'm really counting on you, okay?" You sang, your eyes twinkling at it meet his and he nodded, grinning. His bangs poking the corner of his eyes, and you fix it away with your finger, "You need a hair cut," you thumbed his cheek and he murmured in low voice, "You'll be late." Exhaling, you circled your arm around his neck, on your toes and buried your face in the crook of his neck, "I'm terrified."

You felt his hand in the back of your hair, with an assuring brush of lips on your shoulder, and a firm hold around the back of your ribs. And with that alone, he is wordlessly saying, "I have faith in you."

Because the foundation of marriage is to take the sweetness along with the bitterness of your significant other. Because being in love is to be imperfect together. It's to provide wherever needed and more. You and Namjoon had a long way to go to understand what each other doesn't say, but with every day passing, you are progressing. Namjoon became the gravitational force that keeps your universe in the orbits. Being with Namjoon makes the barricades blurs out; the uncertainties, certain, the doubts you have upon yourself, disappears when he's around. He is the one you hold on to when things looks unpromising, because in the world filled with inconsistency, he is the only thing that is firm and constant. He's your stone--the only one that holds you without strings, your secrets became his truth, a whole planet that watches over you even when he's far. To you, devotion is a big word but isn't deep enough to convey the feeling you have towards him. And God you prayed, you begged, for him to feel the same way.

With every touch, and every words--you're rest assured that he does.

The smile he puts on whenever he approached for a kiss, the subtle touches when no one is watching. Tipping his head up so you could brush your lips on his chin and he'll grin at the surprise, tightening his grip around your hand.

Maybe the scholars were wrong. Maybe there is no way we could accurately define love. Because it is in the food you make for him, the little scribbles of his writings on the tiny post-it notes, because it's in the way he looked at you across the room filled with strangers knowing only you, maybe it's in the way you tiptoed to his office and leaned your head on his shoulder in search for comfort--hoping, trusting, believing that he is the pillar you could depend on, rely on, a safe place to land, when everything is on fire, and demolished. Because love is in the way he takes you in, inhaling you like oxygen, and every subtle touches magnifies the thrill he felt for you, or the way his smile lingers after every kisses.

Namjoon spent the noon, washing the dishes. Keeping his phone on the loudest ringer, incase you sent a message or called when he's cleaning. He carries them everywhere he goes. He neatened the bed sheets and fluffed the pillows. Fix the curtains and tie them, to keep it open. Sneezes. He picks up the books on the floor in your reading corner and place them on the racks in alphabetical order. The blanket left on the rug reminded him of the nights before. He didn't think you'd say yes, but you replied, "I would love to look at the moon with you." He always thought that keeping track of moonlight calendar is something really corny but there you were, genuinely enjoying the time with him. Basking in the zealous moonlight by the window, surrounded by his favourite books. He really felt appreciated. So yes, yes he will clean this house the best way he could for the guests that are coming. He wanted to impress them but mostly, he wants to know more about you. And he knows that this guests will surely give him an in depth clue about you, since they've been around you, for awhile. And it's their first trip to the country.

Meeting them is like meeting a piece of you. Although they're aren't the perfect sculpture of what you're made up of, surely enough, they contributed some.

Because in every broken pieces of you that he sought after, collected and kept, he promises that healing only begins when you allow it to. "Don't value your professional life in the eyes of another," he spoke in murmurs, in the middle of the night, that night. When the streets of the busiest city quieted down, and your thoughts are screaming, his whispers were louder, more vivid and his face is all you see. Underneath that blanket, you created a world with him where all that mattered was you two. Thumbing your cheek, sleepy eyes and a small space between you two, it was a universe Namjoon arranged for you, to keep away the negativity, to negate the possibilities, to reveal all your insecurities like how he reveals his. The crescent eye smile he gave you when you told him that he has the cutest chin, the exchanging kisses on the nose and the little deep giggle that sounded like a hum, little music to your ear. The close proximity enables you to cater to him what his heart desired most, but couldn't ask for--devotion.

Rushing out the elevator, you dashed out the parking area and clicked open the car. "Why did it have to be today... of all day," you sighed.

You had to cover for a friend because she had decided to take an emergency leave for whatever reason and you weren't sure if you're opt to be functional today, knowing that you dislike to be thrown into a work schedule you didn't plan ahead of. Cytotoxic Drug Reconstituition is a very heavy division of the Pharmaceutical deperatment because it roams around specialised regiments for patients under chemotherapy. And although you've done your two-year training in it, and is about to be transferred there in a week time, there was no excuse for the head of pharmacist to be using your expertise just because her two assistants says that you're available. But because shit happens, you've decided not to think about it too much because it only brings you headache. And it's not like you can't. It was just, out of a sudden. Uncalled for.

Unexpected.

A Snicker bar dropped to the floor of the car. And you remembered all the incident that led to that chocolate bar to be bought. It was for Namjoon. Because like you right now, Namjoon too, felt insecure about himself, second-guessing, hesitating about something he shouldn't.

It was raining. Quite heavily that day. So much, that every parking space were taken. The wipers thudding end on end, and visibility decreased to 20%.

Trickling sound of the rain hitting against the windshield while he waits for you in the passenger seat, his eyes worrying over cars that couldn't pass through since you parked at the junction of a pretty wide road--and he couldn't help to move the car away because he doesn't have a driving license yet. Fishing his phone out, he tapped on your name and sent a message.

Him: did you find it? Wife: yup. I'm queueing to pay. Are we obstructing anybody's way? Him: so far, no... Wife: I'll be right there as soon as I can

And right there and then, his guilt rises. He stares quietly as you drove. Mapping the shape of your features in the back of his mind, his shallow and soundless breathing, he tightened his fist and loosens it. You took one glance at him and you said, "...do not. I know what you're thinking, and no." Namjoon blinked away, hiding his smile with his hand and pushed him further into the seat as if he had been found out. He hates how his thoughts becomes so transparent when it comes to you. He giggles but you know he is only doing that to take away the depth of the conversation he denied to have. He laughs, "...things would have become easier if I did. You can rest for awhile whenever you need to. Instead of driving me around. I feel less--"

"--don't say it. Do not say it. I forbid you," you warned him as you drive swiftly through the city street. "Less like a man when I can't drive," he exasperatedly sigh, staring out the window at the bushes, from a moving car. You understand why he felt that way. 

It wasn't the first time, and definitely, won't be the last. 

In the beginning of your relationship, Namjoon had clearly showed you that he is, pre-definitively ; nothing perfect. Early on, he hated the fact that he wanted you so much, needed you so much that all his efforts to approach you becomes the wall he vowed to never cross. His aloofness, his indifferent attitude, his withdrawn nature--facade he puts on in efforts to keep you at bay; all corrupted him into being delirious on his own.

Who was he to deny something so indefinitely strong? Who was he to fight his own fate? When did he get so co-dependant?

He had no one to blame, but himself. He allowed this to happen. Strangers to acquintance. Acquintance to friends. Friends to lovers. It was a classic tale of love not just at first sights. He knows he won't jump into relationship without knowing who you are, and what you are.

Therefore, he devised a life-long plan.

And it is going to be painful because he will convey many truths inside the conversations he will have. He was ready to carve himself into the man you wanted him to be, fill the mold of your deepest fantasy. His plan was to tell you that he'll become anything you desired.

But your answers silent him. It silent him.

Never before has he heard such depth of words coming from someone he knew. Especially about him. "I don't want to love what you pretend to be. I want to love who you already are, and who you will become as we progress... I want you. And all your broken pieces," you told him, eyes boring into his frightened pairs. He was unprepared. He knew he was unprepared and did all the necessary measures to feel equipped, but he was still heavily unprepared for what you bring with you--your spirituality and honesty. Lord, did it shakened him. Heavens, his heart slowed down the very moment he heard you say it. To know someone who would love even your broken pieces, is liberating. It felt like the planets finally aligned to ensure this would happened.

Where have you been all my life?

Until it hits him. "You haven't seen my broken pieces. How can you love it?" He murmured against the coffee as he brought the brim close to his plump lips, unintentionally pressing his dimples as he lick the residue by mashing his petals together.

"I am a very difficult person to love," he darted, "I lack a lot. I don't know anything about relationships." The last one he had was when he was a teenager who thought he knew everything there is about love and relationships, but goodness, how wrong was he. That was the relationship that dictates how he was incapable of love and being loved. Foolish, you'd say if you heard his thoughts. He forgots that time do educate, and wounds do heal. "It's going to be difficult to be with me," he added again. And to be honest, there's nothing you could say in return to that. But the way he pictured himself hurts you. He felt he is insufficient enough to deserve all the finer things in life. He worries about the possibilities before it even happens, and you could tell that this man has 'stopped and turned away' many times when it comes to love. "But still. You want someone to be with you," you whispered. And it baffled Namjoon how a whisper can sound so loud in his brain than in his ear. He was going to hurt you with his denials, but you're so persistent.

"I enjoy being with you, I really do... your work ethics, your antics, your everything," you trailed, "...suddenly, the world isn't that lonely anymore, now that you're here."

Your galaxies matched each other. Destined to meet, and you were hoping that he felt the same way. But his walls are the toughest to be brought down. Little did you know, he made you an exception. Because that rainy night by the tiny window, Namjoon spoke to the moon about possibilities without filters, without the tough exterior and bare his soul open while you watched the same night of clustered stars. "I met someone I don't think I deserved. Is it possible that I was allowed to have this person?" he pauses, setting his hand behind him as he sat on the floor next to the couch you have in your living room, with you. "Can I be greedy and want something I don't have confidence of keeping? Can I have this person?" his voice gets softer and he brought his face close to you, waiting for you to turn and face him. You were smiling gently like you knew the secret the moon told you. His lips parted a little and he whispered, "Can I have you?" He gulped while he waited for your answer. And underneath the moonlight, you both shared a lip-lock that would put Romeo and Juliet to shame.

It was a tantalizing sprinkle of confettis and glitters when your lips met his. A simple gesture of love that meant more than the lustful ones and you knew then, that this man loved you for you. Linking your forehead together, just enjoying the after bliss of a heartfelt confession--celebrating the innocence of two knotted hearts.

His insecurities is one of the many things you were married to. When you chose to spend your life with him, you chose to love his good as well as his bad. And frankly, he did the same.

Namjoon kept in track of your aunt's family. Took the initiative to  contact them through messages because you had to work. He knows that once you're inside the clean room (a room free of particles necessary for reconstitution process) you won't be able to come to the phone. You usually text him before you did. "Babe, I'm gonna go in now, I love you..." You left a voice message for him, and he replied with a red beating heart emoticon before texting your aunt. Namjoon is going to call them a taxi and have the driver send them to the apartment you share with him. But they haven't even gotten into the plane. Namjoon ensured that the whole house is vacuumed and filled the fridge with drinks and good snacks. There's lego pieces for your nephew to play with when he arrives. Namjoon heard that he breaks everything he touches too. He was looking forward to meet him.

The reconstituition process will take awhile. The previous pharmacist didn't finish the paperwork and didn't do the needed calcuations for the batch that needed to be delivered today before she leaves, so you were left doing that alone for hours. That irresponsible act had extended your working hours, annoyed you to the max and you're trying not to curse out loud with your assistant around, handling calls from angry doctors and nurses who are demanding answers on the late delivery of the bags they ordered. Through the intercoms (the only communicating device available in the clean room) beeped and you tipped your head at it from the inside. Your assistant, Hoseok asked, "Boss, are you alright? You need a bathroom trip? A phonecall to make? I'm bored out here alone..." His husky voice wasn't filtered at all. And you pressed the intercom to reply, haughtily, "I don't want the hassles having to do the scrubbing process all over again, so that's a no from me. Do I look like I'm having fun in here to you?" You snapped.

"I was just asking to be nice..." he whines, "There's this one doctor I don't want to talk to. He is from Ward 8B and his staffs are mean. That's why nobody wants to take the regiments in queue from that ward." He added. "...You can't nitpick on wards, because at the end of the day, we serve the patients. Being biased does not help in this situation. Even though they prove to be difficult, take that as a challenge... " you said in a nurturing voice, while syringing out Doxorubicin vial and into the infusion bottle. "Inspiring, no wonder they made you come here..." Hoseok sighed into the intercom. "Hoseok," you called, "...I hear the phone ringing, from outside" you sang and you saw him from the glass barriers, dragging his feet outside, jumping in place cutely because that's probably an enquiry call from Ward 8B. You prayed that you made it out alive before your aunt touches down, but you also understand that if you rush things, errors could happen and you want to be home, in one piece.

With the passing hours, he has heard nothing from you and he is growing anxious. You both had a long conversation about it.

About you having to be in Chemotherapy department. One of the issues were, medical staffs in that specific department are not advised to conceive as long as their service there. And Namjoon's parent have told you about wanting grandchild this year, if possible. It has been five years. "That's now what you should worry about..." Namjoon held you close, wrapping you in blankets. "This is necessary for your advancement, and we're still young, we can have children when we deem is right, this is our life and we take charge of it..." He reassured you with calm and soothing whispers. You sniffed, "...but we can't have kids for like a year, and, they'll ask about it in our next family gathering, and I won't know what to say because I promised that it will be soon...that you and I are going to," you choked, voice breaking in tears, sniffed again and, "...that we're gonna have babies, and then this letter came," you throw the letter next to your feet and Namjoon catches it and fold it neatly, place it aside, hugging your head.

Namjoon hushes you, smiling widely. "Look, we've waited more than five years to be together, I think we can definitely wait another five," you heard him say. "I'm sorry..." you gripped tighter to his collar. "...Okay you need to stop, this comes with the job, sweetie, it doesn't make you less of a hot wife," he chuckled and you smiled grimly.

Take the good with the bad, remember?

"...can I ask you to be in your white coat, the next time we're having woohoo hour?" Namjoon purred. "No...that's my work attire," you shot, in nasally voice. "...But why not," he whined. "...Because I need to work in these, and it has to stay pure. Because if we do woohoo with me in this, it's all I think about later, and I have to focus and be professional," you explained. "Oh," he feigned an acceptance and replied, haughtily, "...it's not okay for you to woohoo in your work white coats but it's okay for us to woohoo in my work studio? Where in the woohoo law is that legal?" He protested. You giggled, "...should we woohoo in the clean room, if you want to get even." Namjoon looks at you suggestively.

"Absolutely not, clean room is kept cold so that no bacteria cultivates. You're going to raise the temperature just by being there," you shook your head. "Are you indirectly implying that I'm hot?" he smirked, poking your sides until you jolt and tickle fight began out of context.

Namjoon called your aunt when he figured it was right, and she chirped against the phone, in a motherly voice, "...I think I saw the taxi," reading out loud the plate numbers and Namjoon deemed it was correct. They'll be arriving in an hour or so. Shortly after that call ended, you reached him.

"I'm finally out of the freezer, I can't believe I was thrown into a disorganized clutter piece of department I was holding back curses the whole time, I just want to be home, but I need to pee first," you called and he replied, "...look at you, just this morning you were being all worried about not being able to perform, now you already sound like a boss." Namjoon gushes proudly, making his way down the hall outside and stabbing the elevator button, going down. "...you have no idea. The tools were kept uncalibrated, records were scattered in multiple files, and schedules aren't updated, it was a nightmare. Good thing was Hoseok, the assistant I was scheduled with, today, who are very keen to learning although is pretty unexperienced with dealing with difficult neighboring departments, but he's progressing," you sighed and he can hear you shut the bathroom door. "Are you peeing as we speak?" He asked out of curiousity. You sat on the toilet bowl, "...no," and then, "...now I am. Feels so good." You moaned and it sent chills all over Namjoon's body.

The power you had over him, is unfathomable. Even through the phone, he was floored by you. "I can't wait for you to come home," he sighed. "I've been away for like ten hours, chill," you flushed and walked to the sink nearby, ran your hand underneath the running water, "...did you clean the house?"

"I most certainly did, and I did a pretty good job," he hikes a breath in, "...so I would like to ask for a small token of appreciation."

You rolled your eyes because you already know that this was going to happen. "...What, what do you want?"

He smirked as the door to the elevator opens to the lobby area, "I want a picture of you in a white coat, and nothing else before you get home." End call.

Kinky fucker. "What makes he think he has the right to demand... especially when I haven't seen the result of this 'cleaned house' he was talking about..." you muttered to yourself. Your eyes fidgets to the staffs' changing room, and blinked away. "Hoseok, I'm gonna use the changing room for awhile..." Hoseok poked his head and tipped his glass, "...sure."

Between the walls we barricade for each other, we accept their family, their relatives, their weakness and strengths.

Like Namjoon is welcoming your relatives warmly, already holding hands with your nephew and carrying him in his arms. You drove home, certain that he had done all he can to help you.

Because as a home, you don't choose who resides in them. When trust and loyalty is established, you have a persistent partnership. But the material that enhances and ensure the cemented foundations of a home, is most definitely, compassion and devotion. Namjoon is your home, like you are to him.

"Home is not a place, but a person. They keep you sheltered," Namjoon reminded you, "...they are wall of ours. Our little galaxy."

Namjoon liked his token of appreciations a lot. A lot- a lot. Like, hella. But having to keep it quiet while your relatives are literally next door, is definitely a challenge.

#bts #wall of ours #bangtan boys #bts fics #kim namjoon #bts fanfic #bts namjoon #knj #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #namjoon fluff #domestic au #namjoon domestic au #namjoon #rapmon #rm #namjooon #namjoon ff #reader insert #namjoon imagines #namjoon x reader #bangtan writers #bts writers #armysnet #bts rm #hyungline fanfic #beyond the scene

[lirlovesfic]

The Choice

A Doctor Who fanfic

Summary: After GitF, the TARDIS brings the Doctor, Rose, and Mickey back to the estate to solve a problem involving the TARDIS herself. But when they see a familiar face, the face of someone who should not exist, they realize the problem is deeper than they thought and could endanger the Doctor’s very existence. Primary characters: Ninth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Mickey Smith, Jackie Tyler. Genres: Romance, mystery, adventure, drama, character study, HN AU, fobbed!Nine, sick TARDIS. Pairings: Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose Rating: Adult

Warning: none for this chaper

a/n: I am currently working on editing this chapter-by-chapter, with the hopes of completing a chapter a day until I catch up with myself. As I mentioned in a previous post, I’m doing it to try to get back into the swing of writing and to build some momentum in order to finish this. Also, there have been some tiny things nagging at me for a while (grammar, punctuation, etc.) so I’ll be correcting as many of them as I can find as I go. The story will not change. In fact, most of the changes are going to be so minor that I doubt anyone (besides myself) will notice. But to keep myself on target, I’ll be posting it all here as I go, with links to the other websites it’s on. I hope you enjoy it.

Catch up: on AO3, on TSP, on ffnet

This chapter: on AO3, on TSP, on ffnet

Chapter Twenty-Four—London, 28 and 29 July 2007

Back at their table, Rose watched as John ascended the stairs with their drinks: whiskey for him, white wine for her. She didn't dare have anything stronger. Rather than easier, she was finding it more and more difficult to see him simply as John. It was more than his looks and his mannerisms and his frequent use of the words "fantastic" and "stupid ape". The Doctor was part of everything he did, everything he was: his impatience with stupidity; his desire to help, and intervene for, those who needed it; his patience with lonely pensioners and overly excited children. And of course it was difficult to remember he was John when they went to repair things on the estate. It was the goofy torch he wore on his head while he worked. It was the way he looked when half shoved under a kitchen sink trying to fix a leaky pipe, with only his dark jean clad legs and heavy work boots visible. It was the way he'd ask her to hand him a spanner or a screwdriver or some other tool while making repairs, or the way he chatted easily about science and architecture, films and books and music and any other topic that sprang to mind. It was like being in the TARDIS with him all over again.

But it was more than that. It was the way he'd hold her hand. He'd grab her hand, holding tightly as they walked down a crowded street so they wouldn't get separated, or squeezing it after they'd both had a difficult day at work, or intertwining their fingers and caressing the back of it with his thumb for no other reason than he wanted to.

And more than anything it was the grin he gave her over a private joke, and the way he'd look at her like she was the only person in the world.

It was so difficult to remember he was John when he so clearly was the Doctor.

As he joined her at the table, he flashed her that grin, the grin he reserved for her and no one else, and her heart pounded, just as it had when she was nineteen and they had just begun traveling together. And frankly every other time he grinned at her. She grinned back.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

For the tiniest instant, his grin faded into a frown and then returned to a wide smile. She would have missed it if she hadn't known him so well.

"Queue at the bar," he told her as he sat down.

She didn't believe him for a second and wondered what the real reason was.

~oOo~

The reception dragged as Rose caught up with some of her old friends from school. Some of them remarked that they didn't know she was back, but most of them said they were surprised to see her there since they had heard that someone named Mickey had killed her.

For a while John sat back and listened, hoping for more information beyond what she'd already told him about the time when she'd been missing, but every time someone mentioned it she quickly turned the conversation to other topics.

Eventually when anyone new joined them John's eyes would glaze over, and he'd make an excuse to leave, stating he was going to refresh their drinks or to talk to someone he knew from the Estate or from the garage. He excused himself to go to the loo so many times that he began to worry that Rose would think he had a prostate problem.

After that he gave up on making excuses. When someone approached he just left.

Until the best man began to cross the room, headed towards them. He was tall, blond, and good-looking enough to be on the cover of GQ. Or Playgirl. Most of all, the bloke was much closer to Rose's age than he was. John scowled.

And then he slowly smiled.

Before the handsome bloke could join them, John grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Come on," he ordered.

"Where are we…" she began. And then her face lit up as he spun her onto the dance floor.

When the song ended she backed away from him, obviously expecting them to return to the table, and he pulled her back into his arms. A look of surprise crossed her face, and then she melted into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

A very good sign, he thought, momentarily forgetting his decision not to press her into a closer relationship.

Perhaps a half an hour and seven songs later, she pulled away again.

"Thirsty," she told him.

As soon as they returned to their table, the maid of honor—Shareen, he remembered from the conversation downstairs—and the best man joined them. They were each carrying a drink, a half empty pint for him while hers was a glass of something a fluorescent blue.

The blond bloke set his glass down and grabbed a couple of chairs from a nearby table.

Shareen plopped herself down on one. "Steve, you remember Rose," she said.

"How could I forget?" he said as he sat down. He flashed a grin at Rose, revealing perfect, white teeth.

John shot him a dark look.

Shareen turned to him, her mouth twisted into a mischievous grin. "What did you say your name was?"

"John," he answered.

"Damn!" she said. "I owe Rita ten quid. We bet that you were—"

Rose interrupted her. "John, this is Shareen." She turned back to her. "So you saw Rita? Where is she?"

Shareen turned to her. "Oh, she had to take off. She was here with Joe and his girlfriend what's-her-name. They only stayed for a couple of minutes because she didn't want to risk running into that piece of shit Chuck." She turned back to face John. "Are you sure you aren't—"

"So, Steve," Rose said, interrupting her again. "What have you been up to?"

Before Steve could answer, Shareen grinned cheekily.

"I'm guessing about eight inches," she said, "but I'm sure I'll find out for sure later." She tossed her drink back and slammed the glass on the table. Then she leaned over and squeezed Steve's thigh. With a smirk he reciprocated, causing her to giggle.

She turned back to John. "Anyway, Rita and I had this bet goin', and she said that you were her neighbor, John, and I said—"

"What time is it?" Rose interjected. "It must be getting late."

Steve glanced at his watch. "Looks like it's half one."

"Wow, it's later than I thought," she said. She stood up abruptly, almost knocking over her chair. "We've really got to get going. Don't we, John?" Before he could respond, she continued. "Really nice to see you again, Steve."

She grabbed John's hand and pulled him out of his chair, across the room and down the stairs before he could get a word in.

"What's with you?" John asked as they dodged people in the pub on their way to the door. "Is she a childhood enemy or something?"

"No, actually she's one of my best friends," she answered.

He stared at her incredulously. "How do you treat your enemies?"

"Believe me, you don't want to know," she said as she pulled him out the door.

Outside the temperature had dropped and there was a heavy mist in the air. Rose shivered. John automatically pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said, slipping her arms into the sleeves.

John took her hand, and they headed towards the Audi they had taken to the wedding. He didn't own his own car; instead he had borrowed one from Arthur Mudali. Their boss had a couple of cars for hire that he kept for customers whose own cars were in the shop. Mudali typically didn't loan them out to staff, but John was his best mechanic. He didn't want to lose him to another garage, so it didn't take much for John to persuade his boss to make an exception.

Since it was Saturday night, between the regular pub goers and the wedding guests, they'd had to park a couple of blocks away, and by the time they got into the car the mist had turned into a drizzle. John turned the key in the ignition.

It didn't start.

In fact, it didn't even try to turn over. He tried again. Dead silence.

He frowned.

"What's wrong?" Rose asked.

"I don't know," he told her. "Sounds like the battery's dead. Did the lights come on when we got in?"

"I didn't really notice."

He reached up to turn on the overhead light, but it didn't turn on.

"You leave the headlights on?" she teased.

"Didn't have them on," he said seriously. "It was still light out when we got here. Could be the alternator's bad. On the other hand, if we're lucky the battery cable's just loose. Hand me the torch. It's in the glove compartment." She passed him the torch, and he popped open the bonnet. "Stay here," he said as he got out of the car.

She followed him, and he shot her a look.

"I have no idea why I thought you'd listen," he said.

She grinned at him. "I don't know either."

"Must have been a case of momentary insanity."

"Only momentary?"

He shot her another look. She was giving him a cheeky grin, with the tip of her tongue curling up to touch her upper teeth, and as he stuck his head under the bonnet, his mouth twitched as he tried to hold back a smile of his own.

"Hmm, not the battery cable," he said as he shined the torch at the engine.

The rain grew harder. He slammed the bonnet shut, and they got back into the car.

"Now what?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not going to figure out what's wrong in the dark, and even if I could, I couldn't fix it here. We could try to jump the engine, but it might not work. Not to mention that no one's around, and there's no sense trying to get a tow at two in the morning." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The buses don't run this late. We should get a taxi."

She stuck out her hand. "Give me your mobile."

"You need to get a new one," he said as he handed it to her.

"Why should I when I can just use yours?" she asked cheekily as she typed in a number.

"Just don't put her on speed dial."

"Why not? She's got your number on hers."

A pained expression crossed his face. "You really need to get a new phone."

She held a finger to her lips.

"Hi, Mum," she said. She fell silent for a moment. "Yeah, it was great." As she listened, she looked at John and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, she was gorgeous, and no, you couldn't tell she was pregnant. Listen, where are you and Stuart? Because the car's dead and we need a ride." She paused again. "Oh. Never mind then. If you can't, you can't. I'll see you later, yeah?"

She rang off. "His car's too small to fit all of us."

"Taxi it is then. Give me the mobile back."

As she handed the phone back to him, she stared out the window. "It'll take a half an hour for it to get here, easy. We're only about a mile from our flats, yeah?"

"About that. Maybe a little less." He stared at her as he realized what she was thinking. "Rose, it's pouring out there."

She gave him a crooked, mischievous grin. "So?"

"We can't walk that in this weather," he protested.

She jumped out of the car and stuck her head back inside. "Who said anything about walking?"

He got out and joined her. He shook his head. "Now who's the crazy one?"

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed his hand.

"Run!"

She tugged on his hand, and they tore down the pavement, but before they got more than a block she pulled him to a stop.

"Hold on." She let go of his hand and pulled off one shoe.

"You're not going to be able to run that far barefoot," he said, having to raise his voice over the sound of the storm.

She snorted as she pulled off the other. "Believe me, I'm used to it."

With her shoes in one hand and his hand in the other, she took off again, pulling him along.

To his amazement, despite his much longer legs he didn't have to keep his speed in check. She easily kept up with him as they rounded corners and took shortcuts down alleys.

The rain was coming down in sheets as they neared the garage. Large puddles had formed on low places on the pavement while part of the road itself had turned into a fast moving stream about four feet wide and at least several inches deep.

He let go of her hand and easily jumped it. He turned back when he realized she hadn't immediately followed.

"What's wrong?" he yelled.

"I don't really want to wade it, but I'm not sure I can jump it," she called back. "I'm not exactly as tall as you."

"You can make it," he said encouragingly. "And if you don't, I'll catch you."

She nodded. She backed up several feet, ran and jumped.

He caught her neatly in his arms and set her down. He grabbed her hand.

"Run!" he said.

Laughing, they ran the rest of the distance to Bucknall House.

Once inside the entrance to the stairwell, they looked out the window at the heavy rain still coming down.

"That was fun," she said, as she squeezed water out of her dripping hair.

He turned to her, a wide grin on his face. "Rose Tyler, I don't know anyone else who wouldn't complain about the car breaking down and then would suggest running a mile in a downpour instead of waiting for a taxi. And barefoot no less," he said, admiration filling his voice. "You're fantastic. Absolutely fantastic."

She bit her lip shyly. "Thanks."

She looked up at him. Wide dark brown eyes met the steel blue of his own. His grin faded, and for the second time that night he almost forgot his resolution to keep their relationship platonic.

His eyes dropped to her mouth. The tip of her tongue was tracing her lips, as if in anticipation. He unintentionally mimicked her and began to lean towards her…

And then jerked himself to a halt, reminding himself of all the times she'd stopped him from kissing her. She didn't want this, and he didn't want to ruin their friendship.

He turned away from her to look out the window. "I think the rain's letting up a bit."

"Uh, yeah, I think it is," she said brightly. "Um… thanks for the use of your coat." She slipped it off and handed it to him.

"Any time. How are your feet?"

"They're fine," she said. "In better condition than these shoes." She glanced down at them. "I'm gonna have to bin them. The dress too, I think."

He automatically looked down at it. Despite her having worn his coat, the entire dress top to bottom was soaked from the rain. It clung to her like a second skin, revealing her slim waist and the soft curves of her breasts, bum, and thighs.

He swallowed hard and quickly looked up at her face, hoping she hadn't caught him staring.

"Do you… do you wanna come up?" she asked hesitantly.

He glanced back down, at the once opaque material that had gone sheer. He could see the outline of a lace bra and knickers, and a hint of dusty pink areolas and erect nipples. His mouth went dry.

"No, better not," he said in a low voice. Then he flashed her a manic grin. "You need to get into some warm, dry clothes."

"Uh, yeah, you too. You'll catch your death."

"Me? Nah. Takes more than a little rain to make me sick. Superior physiology."

She laughed quietly.

"Well, I'd better not keep you," she said. "Don't want you to get sick, superior physiology or not."

She turned to go, and he stopped her.

"Rose, thanks for inviting me. I had a very nice time."

She smiled at him. "Me too."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "G'night."

"Night."

As he slipped on his jacket, he watched her walk up the stairs. Then he headed back out into the rain.

~oOo~

The flat was dark when Rose entered, but just in case she called out to her mum to tell her she was home. As she expected, there was no answer.

After binning her shoes, she grabbed a bath towel and began to dry her hair on the way to her room.

He'd been about to kiss her, she was sure of it. But he had stopped himself.

No, she had stopped him herself, by holding him at arm's length the last couple of weeks.

She'd had to. It was the right thing to do, she told herself.

Wasn't it?

Even if it was, she couldn't help but feel incredibly disappointed.

She dropped her sodden clothes on the bedroom floor and slowly dressed, first pulling on a T-shirt and then sweat pants over dry knickers. She grabbed a pair of socks.

In the lounge, she dropped cross-legged onto the sofa and examined her feet. Despite her response to John, her feet were a little sore, although much less so than most other people's would be. She was telling the truth there. She had to run all the time while traveling with the Doctor, mostly in trainers, but frequently barefoot.

Besides being dirty, the soles of her feet had a few cuts and a small amount of gravel embedded in them. She laughed ruefully. Even with sore feet, running barefoot in the streets of London in the pouring rain was probably the most fun she'd had since she'd got here. Oh, they'd had fun sightseeing and watching telly and dancing at the reception, but running in the rain was so them. While they ran hand in hand, she'd almost forgotten about everything that had brought her here: the TARDIS, the fob watch, the Doctor being John. For those moments it was just the Doctor and Rose again, running for their lives, only without the monsters.

She got a damp flannel and some ointment and set about doctoring her feet. She was just slipping on her thick, white socks when she heard the door open.

"Mum, is that you?"

When she didn't get an answer she got up and walked into the hallway.

Her mother was standing by the door, staring at a piece of paper in her hand. She didn't respond.

"Mum? Where's Stuart?" When her mum didn't answer, Rose crossed over to her. "Mum, what is that?"

Jackie jumped. She hurriedly put the paper behind her back. "Rose, you startled me. I didn't know you were there."

"I've been calling you," she answered. "What is that?"

"Nothing!"

"It's not nothing." Rose reached around her and grabbed the paper out of her hands. Although most was illegible, what she could read was vile: threats and obscenities and crude, disgusting drawings. "Where did this come from?" she demanded.

"Oh, Rose, I didn't want you to see that," her mother said.

"Where did you get this?" Rose asked slowly and firmly.

"It… it was shoved in the door, same as the other ones."

"What other ones?"

"Doesn't matter," Jackie said.

"Yes, it does. How many of these have you gotten?"

"Dunno. Maybe a dozen over the last couple of weeks."

"What! And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't want you to know."

Rose opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it as something her mother said clicked.

"Hold on, you say it was shoved in the door?"

"Yeah, same as the others."

"But I've only been home five minutes, and it wasn't there when I got here."

Jackie blanched. "Oh my God, I must have seen him. I passed someone on the stairs just now. He was going down while I was coming up."

Rose's eyes widened. "Stay here!" she ordered. Still clutching the note, she ran out of the flat.

It was pouring again. Through the rain, she spotted a hooded figure crossing the courtyard. "Oi! Stop!"

The figure looked up and then began to run.

She flew down the stairs.

~oOo~

Just as he finished getting dressed, John's mobile rang. He glanced at the number.

"Hello, Rose?"

"No, it's Jackie! Rose is in trouble! She just took off after someone who's been threatening me!"

Jackie sounded terrified, and John's brain kicked into high gear. "Don't worry. I'm on my way."

He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out of the flat. From the walkway, he could see Rose erupting from her building and running across the courtyard.

"Rose!" he yelled, but she ignored him.

He took the stairs two at a time. When that wasn't quick enough he swung over the railing, skipping over landings and entire flights of stairs. He ran out of his building just as Rose was leaving the courtyard.

"Rose!"

He followed her out of the courtyard, only catching up with her on the street.

"Damn it, I lost him!" she said angrily. "Where the hell did he go?"

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"Thank God," he said, ignoring her tone. He pulled out his mobile. "Jackie? Yeah, she's fine. Listen… No, listen! Is there someone who could come and stay with you tonight? Or better yet, is there someone you could stay with?" He paused. "That's perfect." Another pause. "No, I'll take her home with me. Don't worry, I'm gonna get to the bottom of this."

As he shoved his phone in his pocket he turned to Rose. "What on Earth were you thinking, chasing after someone alone in the middle of the night like that?" he snapped. "Don't you know how dangerous that is?"

"Someone is threatening my mum!" she told him. "She's been getting threatening notes for weeks! No one threatens my mum! And I almost caught him too!"

"And what would you have done with him once you got him?" he asked. She didn't answer. "You don't know, do you? You should have called me."

She glared at him. "There wasn't time! He was right there! And I almost had him!" She let out a cry of frustration. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" she swore. She looked up and down the street. It was empty.

"He's not here, Rose," he said. "There's no sense staying." He grabbed her hand and yanked her back in the direction of his building. She followed reluctantly, muttering under her breath.

Once they were in his flat with the door closed, he noticed the slip of paper she was clutching in her hand. "Give it here."

She thrust it at him.

He swore under his breath. It was so wet it was illegible. "That's no help."

She held her hand out to him.

"Give me your phone," she ordered. "I've got to call my mum."

"No," he told her firmly. "You're too upset. You'll just scare her more than she already is. I'll call her."

While he spoke to Jackie, on the other side of the room Rose sat down on the sofa and pulled off her soggy socks. "I'm gonna have to bin these too," she muttered. Instead, she dropped them on the floor.

He rang off and sat down next to her.

She jumped back up and began to pace the room.

"Why are we here? We should be protecting my mum," she said.

He stood up again. "Stuart's coming to pick her up," he told her. "He's gonna take her to his place."

"Then we should be out finding that… that… piece of shit who was threatening her." She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "Damn it! No one, no one, no one threatens my mum and gets away with it!"

"Whoever it was wasn't threatening Jackie, Rose," he said, trying to keep an even tone to his voice. He wasn't entirely successful. "They were trying to scare you."

She whirled on him. "What?" she said. "How do you know that?

"Stands to reason. I've been getting notes too."

"You've been… Why the hell didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"I wanted to keep you out of it." She stared at him. "I was trying to protect you!" he snapped.

"Protect me? You don't need to protect me! You can't just wrap me in cotton wool, John!" she spat. "You have no idea what I've been through! I'm a big girl! I can take care of myself!"

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is the point?"

"You need to use your head!" he exploded. "You don't know what this person wants. He probably wants to hurt you. He could even want to kill you! It's just stupid to take off on your own like that! Next time, before you go off half-cocked, you tell me!"

"You aren't my father!" she shouted. "You don't get to tell me what to do!"

His eyes flashed. "Oh, I know I'm not your father, Rose Tyler. Don't you ever make that mistake!"

In an instant, he closed the distance between them, cupped her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his own in a hard, possessive, almost brutal kiss.

She froze.

As he felt her stiffen, he let go of her—practically pushing her away—and staggered backwards. They stared at one another in shock.

"I'm sorry," he said, panting. "I shouldn't have done that."

She closed the distance between them.

"Oh, oh, yes you should have," she said in a low voice. She grabbed his shirt, yanked him closer and kissed him back.

#the choice #ficandchips #nine x rose #fobbed!Nine #revised version #almost no revisions in this one #so it went very quickly

[sunnybimbo]

tfw i meant to post this late night but i put it in my queue by accident

ao3 link here

have some garrison trio for hunk’s birthday because B O N D I N G and also i was riding a big sugar high so it isn’t as Epic as i wanted it to be

but it was fun!

It was early morning. Or late night?

It was 4 a.m., about.

Target: Asleep. Probably having a good dream by the looks of those drool stains. His covers half thrown off the bed, and he was near suffocating in his snores.

Perfect.

Lance launched himself from his balcony to Hunk’s, nearly slipping on a clump of ice.

“Toss the goods, Eagle Two!”

Pidge rolled her eyes, but threw the ‘goods’ (an old backpack, stuffed to the brim with… secrets) at him nonetheless.

“Do you even remember how to pick a lock?”

“Uh duh. I’ve watched like… a million spy movies.”

Pidge shook her head exasperatedly. “Your funeral when you set off every alarm in the house.”

Lance flipped her off as she hopped over the banister, joining him on the other side.

Alright. Bobby pin? Check.

Credit Card? Expired, but that didn’t matter.

Spare key to the front door in case he couldn’t pick the lock? Back pocket.

“Let’s do this.” He grinned, cracking his knuckles. The bobby pin was then unceremoniously shoved into the keyhole.

And the door creaked open with the motion. No fiddling with locks needed.

“Huh.”

Pidge just barely resisted smacking her forehead. “You dingus. Rule one of anything ever is to always check if the door’s locked.” She climbed over him, and nearly face-planted into Hunk’s dresser as Lance tripped her.

“Oops.” He feigned innocence, fluttering his lashes at her as she rounded on him.

They began to loudly whisper out an argument. Pidge’s arms crossed, and then she flicked him. Lance gasped, offended.

They were just about to resort to a slap-fight when a loud groan interrupted them.

“What are you guys doing?” Hunk asked, sitting up to rub sleep from his eyes. His bedhead was a thing of beauty, hair framing his forehead like a crown. Or a halo.

“Oh, you’re awake! Good, good.” Lance didn’t bother with keeping his voice down any longer. Instead, he jumped on the bed (shoes and all) and began to bounce up and down excitedly. “Hurry up and get dressed, dude! It’s time!”

Hunk curled up in his fluffy comforter as his eyes drifted shut again. “Time for what?”

“Summertime.”

Pidge pulled on the back of Lance’s shirt, tugging him from his perch. “Don’t you dare quote High School Musical.”

“Pidge, you’re the one who showed it to me.”

“And that was a mistake.”

“Yeah, well - Hunk! Don’t fall back asleep, ya party-pooper. Sun’s shinin’!”

“No it’s not.” Hunk whined, but sat up again as requested. “What are we doing this early, anyway?”

Lance dug into his backpack and pulled out a badly drawn map. “We’re going on an adventure!”

“I swear, Lance, if you don’t stop with the movie quotes I will find every DVD you own and-”

He interrupted Pidge. “Hey, see, I wasn’t even trying to quote anything that time. You nerd.” Lance rolled up his map. “Now, help me get him out of bed.”

The two rounded on either side of Hunk’s bed and flipped the covers off.

Lance shrieked.

“Dude, where are your pants?” He cried, covering his eyes.

Pidge rolled her own again. “He’s wearing underwear, Lance. It’s not like you haven’t seen him naked, anyway.”

Hunk grumbled as he rolled out from under his covers, finally.

“Yeah, well… I know you are but what am I?” Lance stuck his tongue out.

Pidge didn’t grace that with a response. Instead, she jumped on the bed behind Hunk and shoved her phone under his face. “Get up, Oh Yellow One. If we’re gonna beat traffic, we have to leave in five.”

“Where are we going?” Hunk yawned, ambling to the bathroom.

Lance stopped his feet exasperatedly. “I already told you. Road trip!”

“But- why?”

“It’s a secret.”

Pidge tapped idly at her phone. “It’s your birthday, dude. We’re taking you to the beach. You and Lance can spend your day being burnt by U.V. rays and swallowing dirty, salty water all you want.”

“Aw, Pidge. You know I’m gonna drag you along to do all of that with us.” Lance cooed, peeking over her shoulder. “But also, we are a little behind schedule. Our first plan was to kidnap you and shove you in a truck, which would have been a lot faster.”

“Thanks for not doing that.” Hunk said behind his toothbrush. “I’d rather not pee myself on my birthday.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hurry up!”

---

They were stuffed into Pidge’s tiny Punch Buggy and were soon holding on for dear life as she barely kept within the speed limit.

“Hunk, if we die I want you to know I love you!” Lance squealed as Pidge cut between two cars in the left lane, only to swerve in front of another as she overtook it.

“You babies. I’m barely going that fast. Besides, we have to get onto the main highway by 5 in order to really beat rush hour. So hold onto your toes!”

Hunk screamed as it looked like they were about to rear-end someone. Then, Pidge turned at the last second to an empty H.O.V. lane.

“There we go. Smooth sailing from here, probably!”

With a groan, Hunk covered his eyes, shoving his head between his knees. “Oh, no.”

“Projectile, incoming!” Lance cried, flying from the front seat to the back to give him something to throw up in.

---

Hunk did not throw up, but Lance took over as driver as soon as Pidge pulled off at the next exit. She pouted as she climbed into the back. “We were making good time.”

“Yeah, but we’d rather get their late with our lives than on time without any bones.”

“Lame.”

---

Lance, unfortunately, was just as good a driver as Pidge.

“You son of a mother- USE YOUR BLINKER!” He pushed his hand on the horn and held it for a solid five seconds.

Hunk was going to die. He was definitely going to die on this, the day of his birth.

“I swear to all that is holy in heaven… GO! The light is green!” Lance revved the engine. The car in front of him flipped them off and Lance-

“Lance, no.”

Lance hunkered down, shoulder up to his ears as he squinted at the car. Target: sighted.

“Lance, yes.”

The car took off and Lance was hot behind it in pursuit.

They hadn’t even made it back on the highway yet.

---

Hunk sighed, apologizing once again to the police officer as they made their way back to their car. Lance had his arms crossed as he sat shotgun, and Pidge was barely holding in her mirthful laugh at his expense.

Looks like it was up to the birthday boy to actually get them where they needed to go.

“You guys are ridiculous.” He sighed, clipping in his seatbelt. “I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Pidge burst out laughing, holding her stomach as she rolled around in the backseat. “Did you see his face? And the cop, and-” Her laugh evolved to breathless squeaks, and soon the other two were laughing along with her.

“Sorry, dude.” Lance nudged Hunk in the arm.

“No problem. Just remind me to never leave my balcony unlocked again, yeah?”

“Mm… I’ll see what I can do.”

---

Eventually, the other two passed out. Pidge, probably because she hadn’t gotten any sleep that night. Lance, most likely from the amount of food he’d stuffed into himself from the gas station. Seriously, a chilli dog, chilli cheese fries, a bowl of chili, three kinds of potato chips, and a slushie?

Hunk gagged thinking about it. But whatever made him happy?

He was given time to think, though, about his friends.

This was his first real semester away from his family back in Hawaii. Of course he couldn’t just drop money to buy a ticket to visit for one weekend, not when he was drowning in that much debt. But, they’d sent him well wishes through various phone calls and texts, so he knew they didn’t forget. They’d never forget.

But he knew that if he’d been left alone that weekend, he’d probably have fallen into a depression. Lance and Pidge probably knew that, too.

He needed to remember to thank them for thinking about him, later.

---

Rush hour came and went, and they passed numerous car accidents, construction workers, and hitch-hikers.

Pidge slept through most of it. Lance, however, woke almost as soon as Hunk reached a comfortable cruising speed about two miles under the speed limit.

“How’s the time?” His lanky friend yawned, curling his legs up to his chin. How he did that in such a tiny seat, Hunk would probably never know.

“We’ll be there in like an hour.” Hunk hummed, turning down the radio. “Maybe a little over. Looks like some traffic ahead.”

“Gross.”

Hunk smiled. “Yeah. You can go back to sleep though. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Nah… I feel bad making the birthday boy drive, anyway.” Lance fiddled with the radio stations, boredly rolling his eyes as they were stuck on commercial for every single channel.

“Let’s play a game. I Spy? Never Have I Ever?”

“I Spy doesn’t seem like a lot of fun when there are only cars, trees, and you know… highway stuff sitting around us. And don’t you need to drink something for Never Have I Ever?”

Lance threw his hands up exasperatedly. “Details!”

---

They ended up just singing karaoke.

Then some upbeat electronica popped on and Pidge gasped, throwing herself over the middle armrest to turn it up. “I love this song!”

“Pidge, seatbelt!” Hunk shrieked, narrowly avoiding a collision. She blew a raspberry directly into his ear before she plopped back into her seat, loudly clicking her seatbelt.

“I thought you only listened to country music.” Lance says, as if the words physically repulse him.

“Don’t make me bring up your song choices, Mister ‘Naruto Opening 7 Is In My Playlist Eight Times In A Row’.” She huffed.

Lance turned around in his seat, nose high in the air. “I’m blocking you.”

Pidge flicked him. “You love me.”

---

Their impromptu argument ended when Hunk accidentally flipped stations, and his favorite song was on.

This began the karaoke battle to end all karaoke. If they started a band, they would’ve risen to the top mere seconds after their first album dropped.

Traffic was at a stand-still, so Hunk was free to drum his hands across the dashboard. And so he did, not only hitting every single beat, but also able to find the right notes. Or, as close as he could get, on the plastic interior.

Lance was a master of air guitar. And head-banging. But the fact that he actually knew how to play the instrument made it that much more interesting to watch. Especially the way his fingers curled and flicked over the imaginary strings? It was captivating. Lance just had that kind of aura, though.

Pidge was… not as into it as the boys. But she was an amazing singer. Her voice was loud, unafraid, and boy could she hold a note. Hunk whooped every time she reached a high note, and whenever she sped through a rap, the other two went crazy.

It was a hell of a show, and Lance commented as much once they’d slumped back in their seats, voices dead and energy palpable.

“We should do this more often.”

“Only if you pay for my gas.” Pidge griped, rubbing at her throat.

---

They made it within 45 minutes instead of the assumed hour, despite the strange influx of traffic. And the beach was surprisingly empty, despite it being a weekend.

Lance just tugged a bundle of beach towels over his shoulders and raced off into the sand. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth!”

Hunk and Pidge shared a look, but they followed suit. Hunk grabbed the cooler, and Pidge grabbed the umbrella and backpack.

It was only about midday, but it was the perfect time to snack and sunbathe.

---

Lance had already flipped out of his clothes, revealing his bathing suit underneath.

“You’ve been wearing that the entire time??” Pidge’s eyebrows shot up beneath her bangs as she pulled her short hair into a tiny ponytail. “Wasn’t it uncomfortable?”

“Nah, it was just like plastic boxers.”

Pidge grimaced, but decided not to comment. Instead, she pulled her bag over her shoulder and left to look for somewhere to change.

Hunk had not brought a swimsuit (since he didn’t really have prior warning). But he didn’t really mind, since he didn’t plan on swimming much anyway. He always preferred building sandcastles to riding waves, anyway.

Lance, however, was probably born for the ocean. It showed, when he dove in and reappeared like a million miles away from where he started in the span of three seconds. Hunk shot him a thumbs-up as he began to fill in a moat for his sand-tower.

There was a quiet peacefulness between them for a long while. Mostly because they couldn’t really talk while Lance was neck-deep in the water, and Hunk shoulder deep in sand. But it was good. Relaxing.

Er, rather… it was, until Pidge rushed back to Hunk on the beach, flipping the beach towel from underneath him and nearly crumbling his sandcastle.

“Woah, woah. See a ghost, Pidge?”

“We have to go now.” She shrieked, face aflame. Hunk shot up, reaching out to place a worried hand on her shoulder.

“What happened?”

Pidge mumbled something into her hands as Lance dashed to meet them, saltwater dripping from him in every direction.  

“What’s going on?”

Hunk shrugged. “Something happened to Pidge.”

She made a frustrated noise and covered her eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t research this.”

Lance and Hunk shot each other a frightened look. “Research what, Pidgeon?” Lance spoke up.

“This is, uh…” Pidge couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. “A nude beach. As in… full-on… penile action.”

“Oh.” The two pulled back. “Ohh…”

Pidge looked absolutely mortified, and Lance couldn’t stop himself from laughing at her misery. “Aw, Pidge! I already knew this was a nude beach!”

“You what.” Hunk deadpanned.

“Yeah, dude. This part isn’t really used, but yeah. It’s technically all a nude beach.”

Pidge shouted indignantly as she began to slap his arm with her tote bag. “You didn’t think to tell us that?”   

“Ow.” Lance whined, hiding behind Hunk, who had honestly given up on them already. “Sorry, Piggy Wiggy. I forgot.”

“Tell that to my retinas. I’ll never unsee that taint.”

Hunk made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat.

---

Despite the… slight disruption, the trio did end up having the time of their lives. Lance was 100% correct when he said that the part of the beach they were on wasn’t used. Throughout the entire five or so hours they loitered around, they saw maybe five other people tops.

Hunk and Pidge joined forces to create the grandaddy of all sandcastles. Complete with a miniature dragon that circled a tower. Pidge mostly did the structural engineering, but Hunk did the design.

Once Lance had had enough of tiny fish swimming up his trunks, he let out a low whistle as he took in the sight.

“Remind me to bring you guys in when Keith needs help with his art projects. This is amazing.”

Hunk grinned. “Thanks. I’m probably never gonna get sand from under my nails, though.”

Pidge put the finishing touch on the bridge over their moat and stood with a victorious dusting off of her hands. “Worth it.”

It truly was, though. Four identical towers (with one dragon) circled a large castle that tapered at the top. The moat took most of the eye, and was in a flowing, intricate design that probably should have been researched by professionals with how smoothly it stuck together.

“Looks like a spaceship, though.”

“A space-castle.” Hunk amended. “Sounds like a dream to me.”

Pidge turned up her nose. “Sounds like a hassle to clean. Who knows what kind of gunk gets stuck in a “space-castle” engine. And where does the waste go?”

“Hush, hush.” Lance checked an imaginary watch on his wrist. “We have to get going, so pack up your bags, little children. We’re already gonna get stuck in traffic.”

Pidge snapped a picture of their piece of art, and Lance instantly struck a pose behind it. Then, she took a few more of all three of them together, if only for Lance to post on his social media.

“Rest in pieces, space-sandcastle.” Pidge mourned, before shoving her foot directly through the middle of it. Hunk clutched his heart dramatically, and Lance clapped his hands together, holding them up to his mouth.

“It lived well.”

“May it find peace.”

---

“Did you have fun, though? Birthday boy? Light of my life? Hunky-hunkster?”

Hunk grinned, stretching his arms above his head before he closed the car door. “I did. A lot.”

Lance let out a cheer that Pidge weakly mimicked from her sprawled out position. She’d taken shotgun this time, and her feet were smudging the windshield as she spread them across the dashboard.

“I really appreciate it, you guys.” Hunk shyly spoke up, “I know we didn’t do much but… It means a lot that you spent all day with me.”

“Ohoh, Hunk… don’t think this is the end of it. We have a whole dinner-show combo planned out!” Lance reached up to hook his arm around Hunk’s shoulders. “We may have finagled the dining hall for private use for an hour or so.”

“You did not.”

“Never question what Pidge can achieve.” Lance said sagely, and Pidge shrugged as she nodded along with him. Hunk was inclined to agree.

“Wait, so…”

“Yep! Prepare your butt, birthday boy. The activities have only just begun!” Lance dropped back into his seat. “So, let’s hit the road! I convinced Shiro to put on a malo and do that dance you taught us a while ago.”

Hunk probably would have choked if he’d been drinking something.

“There is no way. Shiro??”

Lance grinned, and Pidge snickered at him.

“Guess you’ll just have to see, yeah?”

Hunk shook his head. “I have the most amazing friends in the world.” Seriously. Hunk probably would have started to cry, if he wasn’t trying to focus on the road.

His two best friends shared a meaningful look, and they winked.

“And don’t you forget it!”

Mission accomplished.

#hunk #lance #pidge #voltron #garrison trio #voltron legendary defender #vld #happy birthday #my favorite paladin <3 #jam writes #long post