#this was a very roundabout way of me saying i’m obsessed sigh but !

[hollowbait]

Started watching Bleach again as an adult because I saw a 100k+ fic and decided that in order to read it, I needed to understand the canon. Once I actually got into the canon I fell immediately in love with Urahara and got sucked into a totally different ship. This is that ship. And since I'm a firm believer that once you read over 100 fics for a ship in less 3 months, you need to make a list of your favouriters, here we are!

@uraharaichigo's current top 25 URAICHI FIC.

breaking and entering is a crime, you know (but i'd forgive you of anything) by Excalis | T, 4k | “Why do you keep breaking into my house?” Ichigo complained, in lieu of a proper response. It was best to not feed Kisuke’s ego. “I was sexiled from my own home,” Kisuke sighed.

Your Humble Offering (In The Mouth Of This Abandoned Church) by RayShippouUchiha | M, 10k | Ichigo, the man who took Kisuke’s crumbling self into both of his hands and pressed the pieces back together with a gruff sort of gentleness, dies.

the shore at dusk (there you'll find my heart) by Starsilver | M, 5k | Ichigo dreams of the heartbeat pounding of the waves and the taste of brine on his lips.

Alchemy by athena_crikey | G, 22k | Shiba Ichigo leads a boring, blameless life as head administrator for the Shiba Clan. Until one day, a mysterious repair shop moves in next door.

Brightest by athena_crikey | T, 8k | “You fill your life with colour and noise and friendship, Kurosaki-san. It’s a very impressive trait. You turn enemies into friends. I… I turn friends into enemies.” Urahara’s still smiling; bitter, brittle.

Madness of Monday by NotLonelyJustAlone | G, 7k | How… how… how? How do you explain ‘I’ve either gone mad or I’m reliving the same week and I don’t feel mad and everything happens the same but I remember it all and I can’t can’t can’t keep doing this please help please please please because even if I’m not mad already I can tell the road there is definitely shorter today than yesterday?’

Standing Over Him by NotLonelyJustAlone | T, 10k | “And you, Kurosaki Ichigo, are mine.” Ichigo without his powers, but not totally alone.

Bureaucracy Hell by Aliendel | G, 8k | Reizei Ariko was considered old for a shinigami. Useless in a fight, she’d been relegated to an administrative position at the Academy. She was content with her mostly monotonous life dealing with arrogant nobles and stupid brats. Until an orange-haired young man barged into it and turned her life upside down like he had so many others.

Fashion Faux Pas? by celestivian | E, 20k | Ichigo has a big party to go to, and nothing to wear. Out of desperation, he seeks out Kisuke for help. Kisuke, of course, delivers.

You Don't Have a Soul, You Are a Soul (You Have a Body) by FeelingFredly | G, 2.6k | Kisuke has a disregard for his own safety a mile wide and it's enough to drive Ichigo mad. This time he finds the shopkeeper unconscious but not alone, and the woman with him has some very interesting things to say.

Car by CheshireSense (cywscross) | G, 4k | Urahara Kisuke handles pursuit of a love interest about the same way he handles everything else: with needlessly convoluted plans carried out in the most roundabout way possible because straightforward just won't cut it for him. He's lucky Ichigo's used to it by now.

Guard by CheshireSense (cywscross) | T, 18k | Later, Kisuke will remember and tease, "Were you really obsessing over me, Ichigo? Oh my, I have my own personal stalker!", and get an elbow to the face for his troubles.

Skeletons in the Closet (and flowers by the window) by Sky_King | T, 51k | Kisuke has a plan. He always has, and he’s very good at seeing it to completion no matter what. But as he grooms that noble boy into the perfect weapon to defeat Aizen, he begins to regret ever pursuing this idea.

A Deep Drink by Mousieta | T, 9k | Ichigo is a grad student who needs help writing his thesis. And Kisuke…. well no one has ever asked Kisuke what he needs. Does he even know? Does it matter?

i've always been this way (please don't scream) by Mister_Fox | T, 5k | “Ever wanted to snatch a pigeon out of the sky and eat it?” Kisuke asks idly.

Fade to Crimson (I know your name) by Starrie_Wolf | T, 8k | Ichigo’s a relative newcomer at the Seireitei Shatterdome, but he’s settled into the steady pace of his work fine, even made some friends. There’s just one thing.

what is reality? (what is a lie?) by Starrie_Wolf | T, 15k | Sequel to what is a gift? (what is a sacrifice?). Kisuke promises to restore Ichigo's powers after Ichigo makes a sacrifice he doesn't expect, and this changes things when Ginjou starts sniffing.

Equilibrium Position by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf) | E, 15k | He can't believe he has Aizen to thank for getting them together. Can you send fruit baskets to Mugen?

Feeling Horny by Silmariën (Starrie_Wolf) | E, 3k | When Urahara shoved Ichigo to Hirako to learn how to control his inner Hollow, Ichigo thought it meant Urahara wasn’t Hollowfied. He was wrong.

Ficlet February by nahnahnahnah | G, 20k | And he had faith, he did, that Ichigo would defeat Yhwach. That was a startling enough realization, that he would have faith in anyone other than maybe Yoruichi and Tessai.

Patience by floweringbloom | E, 4k | Ichigo needs to have more patience, but he's very good at being Kisuke's distraction.

Remember Me (I won’t wait) by fw_feathers (callmeren) | G, 6k | On November 6, 2022, 13:00, the world’s first VRMMO game «Brave Souls Online» officially opened its servers. On November 6, 2022, 15:37, Kurosaki Ichigo put on his NerveGear and entered «Brave Souls Online». On November 6, 2022, 17:30, the game of death began.

Every Second (I’ll be running) by fw_feathers (callmeren) | M, 25k | “You didn’t tell us your zanpakuto spirit is a giant sea serpent, Ichigo-san,” Kisuke says mildly. “Ah,” Ichigo says, shading his eyes with a hand. “Should I have mentioned that?”

For You, My Dear, I’d Wait Forever by PhishyFish | T, 27k | Everybody knew about the 12th’s lieutenant. After all, he made quite the striking figure. Wild orange hair, a permanent scowl, and power that clung tightly to his skin, it really was not an exaggeration that everyone knew him, or at the least, knew about him.

#uraichi #bleach #urahara kisuke #kisuke urahara #kurosaki ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #[] #[text] #|fic rec| #|bleach| #|uraichi|

[mxliv-oftheendless]

No Peace for Us, Only Misery: Chapter 1 (Chirisu)

CW: vomiting, blood, Hanahaki disease

So since Ao3 is down for the foreseeable future, I’m gonna start posting my Alice in Borderland fics on here! This is a Chirisu Hanahaki fic that I posted on Ao3 in May, and I will begin to post the current fic I’m working on when I get home from work. But for now, enjoy chapter one!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Come ooon, spill! Everyone has to say their favorite flower!”

Usagi laughed at Kuina. “Why? Is it that important to know?”

Arisu leaned over to her and whispered loudly, “It’s so she can send us bouquets of our favorite flowers.”

“Ah!” Kuina lunged forward to swipe at his head, but Arisu just dodged it with a laugh. “Shut up! I just wanna know!” She huffed and took a gulp of her drink. “I can go first if you like, cowards. I like gladiolus flowers.”

“What do those look like?” Arisu asked interestedly. Kuina pulled out her phone and pulled up an image of them to show him. “Wow, they’re pretty.”

“I know, right?”

Usagi leaned in and read the text below the image of the flowers. “Says here they symbolize integrity and strength.” She grinned at Kuina. “Like you!”

Kuina smirked smugly. “Damn straight. Alright, I went. One of you has to go now.”

“I’ll go,” Usagi said with a shrug. “I guess I’ve always liked lotuses. I think it’s interesting how they can bloom in dirty water where other flowers can’t. It’s kind of beautiful, really.”

Kuina nodded. “That’s a good one.” 

She turned to give Arisu a fierce look, making him laugh and hold up his hands in surrender. “I’ll say it, I’ll say it, just don’t hurt me!”

“I won’t if you tell me,” Kuina said with a wide grin. 

“Okay, okay. I always thought…” Arisu flushed and scratched the back of his neck. “Um…”

“Tell us or I’ll whoop your ass,” Kuina demanded. 

“Okay!” Arisu laughed, keeping his hands raised. “Jeez. I always liked daffodils, I guess.”

“Any reason why?”

“Not really. I just always thought they looked nice.” Arisu grinned at her. “Can I put my hands down now?”

Kuina laughed and lightly hit his shoulder. “You can put them down, you dork.” Then she turned to Chishiya, who had up to now been sitting and watching quietly. “Alright, Chishiya, you’re next. Tell us your favorite flower.”

Chishiya gave her a bemused look. “You’re very obsessed with flowers today, aren’t you?” He looked at Arisu and Usagi. “I bet this is just a roundabout way to get inspiration for flowers to give to Ann.”

“Awww!” Usagi cooed, while Arisu slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “That’s adorable!”

“I—shut the fuck up, it is not!” Kuina pointed at Chishiya with her beer can. “Answer the damn question, coward!”

“Fine. I don’t have a favorite flower. I don’t like flowers.”

“Buuuuuullshit. Everyone likes flowers.”

“Not me.” Seeing the pictures in his medical textbooks of what Hanahaki disease did to the internal organs tended to turn one off of flowers. 

“You’re not getting out of this, man.” Kuina shook her beer can at him with emphasis. “Gun to your head, name your favorite flower or you die. What do you say?”

Chishiya smirked bemusedly. “In what scenario would it be so vital for my would-be killer to know my favorite flower?”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION, SHUNTARO!”

“Kuina,” Arisu said through his laughter as he reached out to grab her arm. “He’s just messing around. Don’t hit him.”

Kuina scoffed. “I’m not gonna, you sweet angel. I’m too drunk for that.”

Arisu laughed and shook his head, then turned to Chishiya. “What is your favorite flower, Chishiya? I’m curious now.”

“Me too!” Usagi agreed. 

Chishiya sighed. “I don’t know… I suppose if I absolutely had to name one, I would say roses.”

“Roses?” Kuina scoffed from where she was now slumped against Arisu’s shoulder. “That’s such a basic fucking bitch answer.”

Chishiya squinted at her. “There is a certain gesture I’d like to give you, but I won’t lower myself to that level.”

“Any type of roses in particular?” Usagi asked. “Like yellow, or pink, or…?”

“I guess white roses. I like the color white, after all.” He gave Kuina a snarky look. “Is that still a, quote, ‘basic fucking bitch answer’?”

“Nah,” Kuina said as she pushed herself up off Arisu’s shoulder. “At least you didn’t say red roses. That would’ve really pissed me off.”

“Ah. I’d like to change my answer then—”

“You better fucking not, you frosty son of a bitch!”

Chishiya dodged her arm as it swung out to hit him. In the process, the force behind the dodge sent him slipping off the couch to the floor. Arisu and Usagi just laughed loudly at him, making him raise his head to give them a stink eye. “You’re laughing. I have been embarrassed by gravity and you’re laughing.”

“Cheers to gravity!” Kuina raised her beer can. “You always know how to humble people when they need it!”

Chishiya turned his stink eye to her. “You live for my humiliation.”

Kuina just grinned at him around her beer can. “You love me.”

“Doubtful.”

“He says unconvincingly.”

“Awww, you love us, Chishiya!” Arisu teased. “Don’t deny it!”

Chishiya looked over at him, and he couldn’t for the life of him help the way he softened at the grin on the other boy’s face. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was getting worse. 

Chishiya stared, almost dazedly, down at what he’d just heaved into the sink. Blood smeared the white porcelain around the clumps of flower petals. He’d coughed up more blood this time, the coldly medical part of him noted. He’d be vomiting soon. 

He’d read his medical textbooks, and seen glimpses of patients in the hospital; he knew the symptoms of Hanahaki disease. It began with a simple itching in the throat, as the flowers began to grow in the lungs. Then just dry coughs, as the lungs began to try rejecting what shouldn’t be growing there. Then coughing up a petal or two, then more. Then eventually, the petals began to be stained with blood. Then the victim began vomiting up blood and flower petals, their body growing weaker against the invasive plants overtaking the lungs and heart. And it would get worse and worse, until finally… 

Chishiya’s stomach rolled and he felt like vomiting, though thankfully it was just normal, everyday vomit. But the Hanahaki-related vomiting would start soon, he knew that. 

He didn’t mean for this to happen. Of all the people to get Hanahaki disease, he never thought he’d ever be one of them. He didn't mean to. He didn’t mean to fall in love with—

A knock at the bathroom door. “Chishiya? Are you okay in there?”

Chishiya hurriedly turned on the faucet and drank some of the water to clear his throat. “Y-Yes,” he called, hoping his voice didn’t sound rough from all the coughing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been in there for a long time.”

Chishiya had to close his eyes tight when the sweetly concerned voice made him feel like coughing again. “I’m fine, Arisu. Just give me a minute.”

There was a pause, then Arisu said, “Okay. We paused the movie so you won’t miss anything.”

He waited for the footsteps to fade away, then ran to grab a fistful of toilet paper and pressed it to his mouth. Thankfully, this round of coughing wasn’t as bad as the first, probably because he’d coughed up all the petals for now. But the feeling like his chest was being internally torn to shreds still remained. 

He eyed the inside of the sink, watching as the cheerful yellow daffodil petals disappeared down the drain. He never meant for this to happen—really, he didn’t. He usually had more self-control than this. 

But he just couldn’t help it. How could he not have fallen for Arisu? How could he look at Arisu, endearingly awkward, with his mop of hair that fell over his big expressive eyes, his bright smile, and his heart that cared so much—how could he be around all of that and not fall in love? 

When Chishiya was sure the coughing had stopped, he threw the bloodied toilet paper in the trash and grabbed a few tissues to wipe his mouth. With any luck, people (Arisu, in particular) would just think he had a bad nosebleed. He tried not to look at the daffodil petals as he forced them to slide down the drain out of sight. 

There had been the briefest moment just now, where he considered telling him. He always considered it, just momentarily, whenever he was coughing up the blood and flower petals. It was considered, for just a moment, to ask Arisu to come into the bathroom or text him or call him and tell him he was in love. Then maybe he’d be cured, and never cough up another daffodil petal again. 

But no, he knew he wouldn’t be cured—because of course, these things were rarely so simple. The disease was cured by the confession only if the object of the victim’s unrequited love returned their feelings. And he knew that wouldn’t happen. This wasn’t some fantastic romance like the stories Kuina loved so much—this was real life. There was no mutual pining, no mutual unrequited feelings. Arisu wouldn’t return his feelings; Chishiya knew he wouldn’t. He already didn’t understand how Arisu could consider him a friend, when Chishiya was so coldly logical and apathetic and heartless, the very opposite of his kind soul. 

Chishiya took another drink of the water, swishing it around in his mouth and spitting it out to get rid of the taste of blood still there. Then he placed his hands on the sink and gripped it tightly, closing his eyes to try and fight back the emotion coursing through him. He sucked in a deep breath, blew it out, then repeated, until everything inside him finally settled down. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. He wouldn’t say a word. 

When Chishiya rejoined the others in the living room, he immediately went to sit down on the couch next to Usagi. Arisu and Kuina were lying on the floor, chattering about some anime he didn’t catch the name of. “There you are!” Usagi said with a smile. “We were wondering about you. You didn’t fall in, did you?”

Chishiya cracked a tiny smile at her teasing voice, trying to ignore how Arisu laughed at her question. “I did, actually,” he said sarcastically, trying to sound like he hadn’t just coughed up daffodil petals into the sink. “It led to a strange, Wonderland sort of world.” 

Kuina scoffed and kicked him with her foot. “Don’t be snarky, ‘Shiya. Can we restart the movie now?”

“If you like. I don’t see why you paused it in the first place.”

“Thank Arisu. He insisted.”

Fuck. Of course he did. 

“I didn’t want him to miss anything!” Arisu defended himself. “It’s a good movie!”

Kuina scoffed again, this time with a smile, and ruffled his hair despite the boy’s protests. “You and your sweet heart. Now unpause it already.”

As Arisu did as asked and the movie resumed, Chishiya realized his throat still hurt from all the coughing. He nudged Usagi. “You brought water, right?” he asked quietly. He vaguely remembered Usagi entering Kuina’s apartment with a bag full of what she said were water bottles, ever prepared. 

“Hm? Yeah, I did. Do you want one?”

“If you don’t mind,”

“Of course not. I brought them for all of us.” She leaned down and fished one out of the bag to hand it to him. “Here.”

Chishiya muttered a thanks before uncapping the bottle and downing half of it. Usagi watched him with mild curiosity. “You were in there for a while,” she said quietly, so she didn’t talk over the movie. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

For a moment, Chishiya wanted to say no, no he was not okay—he was vomiting up daffodil petals, yes, the flower Arisu said was his favorite, because he’d fallen for Arisu and having to bear it all and pretend it wasn’t happening was probably the worst torture he’d ever experienced, despite his honed skill at pretending he didn’t care about anything. Usagi would listen, he knew; Usagi wouldn’t interrupt, wouldn’t judge, would probably even offer advice. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Really.”

#alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #aib netflix #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #chishiya shuntaro #arisu ryohei #fanfiction #hanahaki au #hanahaki #angst #chirisu #arisu x chishiya #chishiya x arisu #cw vomit #cw bl00d #my writing #writing #writeblr

[hopelikethemoon]

Title: ballet practice  Rating: PG Length: 2,200 Warnings: None. All fluff.  Notes: Please note that we’ve encountered a time jump. This ficlet is set in 1996 when Josie is 3 years old.  You can follow the timeline of Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Also, can I just how freaking hard it is to write them being genuienly happy? Not that it’ll last for long. Summary: I don’t know how to summarize this because it’s just fluff and amusement.  Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​ @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​ @snivellusim​

“Mommy, my hair’s falling down.” Josie pouted as she tugged at the loose strands that she’d slowly worked out of her bun over the course of the fifteen-minute car ride to the dance studio. You sighed heavily, gesturing for her to come closer. “Thank you mommy.”

“Of course, baby doll.” You said affectionately, pulling a bobby pin loose and tucking it between your lips as you started to pull apart your efforts. Whoever thought getting a three year old to sit still long enough to get their hair slicked back into a bun had lost their damn mind. 

“You good?” Javier questioned, running his hand over the length of your back as he settled into the seat beside you. 

“Yeah.” You nodded with a smile. “Hun, you’ve got to hold still.” 

Josie stiffened at your words, “I’m sorry mommy.” 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” You offered, tucking another bobby pin between your lips. Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes — a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter. It had been years since the first time he silently reminded you of his love with the subtlest of touches. Something that used to get you through the hardest days of work when Josie hadn’t even been born yet. 

“I’m gonna hit the restroom,” Javier told you, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. You were keenly aware of the way the other mothers in the room watched him leave. You had to admit, the jeans made his ass look great. But they were also relentless women, despite the fact you were sitting right there. 

And it wasn’t as though Javier didn’t make it known that he was with you. If he didn’t have his arm slung around your shoulders, he had his hand on your knee, or his fingers interlaced with yours. Javi took full advantage of the fact that nothing about your relationship had to be kept under wraps anymore. 

“Hold still.” You reminded Josie as she started wiggling — never able to stay in one spot for very long. “Almost done.” You mumbled through the bobby pins as you peeled the hairnet off, resting it on your leg as you pinned her hair back down. 

When Javier returned from the bathroom the seat beside him was no longer vacant. One of the mothers — Missy — had uprooted her belongings across the room to slide into the spot next to him. You had met her husband once, at one of the girls’ recitals. Typical military type, and easy on the eyes himself. You had no idea why she was constantly in hot pursuit of Javi, except for the fact that Javi was… well, aloof was the best word for it.

You didn’t know anything for certain, but you sometimes wondered if the other mothers had some unspoken bet in place. Which one of them would manage to snatch up the Hot Dad at their daughter's dance class? A couple of them had caught you off-guard a few months back at the cookie table during one of the in-class recitals. They wanted to know all about why the pair of you weren’t married. Was there trouble? All sorts of bullshit no one had any right to ask another person when they just wanted to enjoy their Snickerdoodles. 

“Don’t you look pretty,” Javier told Josie as she showed off her new bun. “Now don’t you pull it down again. You’re driving mommy crazy.” He gave her cheek a playful pinch and she giggled and hugged at his legs. 

“Remember to work on your balance like we practiced.” You reminded her, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of her head. She scampered off towards the studio with two of the other little girls that had been waiting for her. 

Javier leaned back in the chair, resting his foot on the top of his thigh as he crossed his legs. “I can’t believe how big she’s getting.” He remarked, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at you. “Feels like just yesterday I was holding her in my arms.”

You nudged at his arm, “It probably was just yesterday. You’re always carrying her around.” 

“Touché.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip before he reached over and rested his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

“I think it’s just darling how you are with her,” Missy remarked, but Javier didn’t seem to realize she was talking at him just yet. “It’s just so important for little girls to have bonds with their daddys like that.”

You covered your mouth as you stifled a laugh, rubbing your lips together as you met Javier’s gaze. Your brows rose upwards as you nodded your head towards Missy. “She’s talking to you.” You whispered. 

Javier glanced over his shoulder at Missy, his shoulders growing tense as he turned to speak to her. “Yeah, it is. She makes it easy though.” 

“She’s just the sweetest little girl.” Missy seemed elated to have his attention. “My Lily has been dying to have her over. Maybe you could bring her over  for lunch one day.” She looked at you then, “Such a shame you work. I’d invite you, but I guess Javi will just have to bring her himself.” 

“Actually,” He slid his hand up your leg to grab ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers as he turned to meet your gaze. “You're free this Wednesday aren’t you, baby?”

“Yeah.” You grinned at him, before regarding Missy. “I actually only work a couple days a week, Missy. I’d love to bring Josie over.” 

“Oh,” She pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ll have to see if I’m free on Wednesday. How does Thursday look for you, Javier?”

Javi squeezed your hand, looking back at you again. “You’re off then, aren’t you?”

“I am.” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “Missy, give me a call on Sunday and we’ll set the playdate up.”

Missy frowned before quickly plastering on a fake smile, “Sounds like a plan.”

 ———

“Are they all that bad?” Javier questioned once Josie was loaded into the backseat and he started down the road towards home. 

“Hmm?”

“The moms.”

You snorted, “Oh, they’re ruthless.” 

“Jesus Christ.” He shook his head slowly. 

“I personally don’t get the appeal.” You quipped, leaning across the center console to steal his aviators off his shirt and putting them on. The evening sun was catching you right in the eyes through the passenger window. 

“Of me?”

“Mhm.” You smirked at him. “I mean, have you seen Missy’s husband?”

“Baby.” He huffed. 

You let his aviator’s slide down the bridge of your nose, peering over the top at him as he stopped at a light. “What?”

“That’s not fair.” 

“I’m just saying.” You shrugged a shoulder, barely able to keep from laughing. “And Tonya’s husband,” You pretended to fan yourself. “Yet she was all over me for information about you last week.” You cleared your throat, before imitating the woman’s nasally voice, “Where does Javi work? How did you meet Javi?” 

“I get it.” 

“Oh, wait.” You held up a hand. “What was it she said? It’s so nice of you to care for Javier’s daughter like she’s yours.” You gave him a droll expression. “As if that head didn’t come out of me.” You pushed the aviators back up to the bridge of your nose, looking between Javier and Josie, who had already fallen dead asleep in her carseat. “I mean she does look a lot like you.” 

“Nah, she’s got all her mama’s good looks.” Javier drawled out, glancing back in the rearview window. “Let’s rewind to what you were saying about Missy’s husband.” 

You laughed, sinking back in your seat. “He’s not really my type.” 

“What’s your type?”

You tapped your finger against your chin as you thought for a long moment. “I’m a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes.” You mused, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip. “A little grey is nice too.” You glanced over at him, a grin spreading over your lips. “A mustache. Very kissable lips.” 

“Sounds like a lucky guy.” 

“Just as lucky as I am.”  

 ———

You leaned against the threshold of Josie’s bedroom, watching as Javier laid beside Josie on her little twin bed, reading her a bedtime story. You had been insistent that she still needed a toddler bed, but Javier had convinced you that she was ready for a “big girl bed” Mostly so he could lay in bed with her and read to her. 

Don Quixote had proven to be a little daunting for a three-year-old, so he’d recently branched out into Read Along books — mostly Lion King, which Josie had recently become obsessed with. You had to admit, Javier did a killer Scar impersonation that would’ve put Jeremy Irons to shame. He did anything he could to keep Josie entertained and he was fortunate because everything he did became her new favorite thing. 

“You know, I was thinking...” You whispered as he closed Josie’s door shut behind him, lingering in the hallway in front of you. 

“Yeah?” His brows drew together. 

“I think I’m ready.” 

“For?” 

You sighed softly, “To try to have another baby.”

“Is this because Tonya thought Josie wasn’t yours?” He questioned, folding his arms across his chest. 

You had both discussed the potential of having another kid in roundabout ways over the years. Steve and Connie had adopted another little girl from Colombia last year — which had sparked a quiet desire to have two of your own. To have it all; the doting partner, the adoring father, the baby showers, the doctor’s visits. All the little things your pregnancy with Josie had been robbed of. 

You shook your head. “No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile.”

“So have I.” He admitted, pushing his fingers through his hair and curling his hand around the back of his neck. “I think we could handle a four-year-old and a newborn.” 

A laugh escaped you, “Yeah. I think we could too.” 

“And you promise this isn’t because of those dumbass women at ballet?”

“Oh, I mean…” You shrugged your shoulders. “I fully intend to flaunt it.” You gave him a sweeping look, “Because you’re all mine to have a family with.” You reached out and traced your fingers over the exposed skin where his shirt was partially buttoned. 

Javier let out a slow and shaky breath, one that seemed like he’d been holding it in for a while. “So this is happening?”

You nodded. “I’d like to try.” 

“Me too.” He looped his fingers into your belt loops, pulling you in to him so he could plant a kiss on your lips. “It’s going to be so different.” 

“I know.” You brushed your fingers along the column of his throat, leaning up to kiss him again. “I can’t wait to see how absolutely atrocious you’re going to be in public.” 

“Oh, it’s going to be bad.” He drawled out with a grin, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m going to drive you crazy, baby.”

“I expect nothing less.” You kissed him once more, letting your lips linger against his. “I bet you’re excited that you can talk to Steve about everything this time.” 

“Best damn part of this.” He teased, his hands curling around your hips. “Aside from the baby part.” 

“Just when I finally get back into shape.” You huffed, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

“You’re not going to hear any complaints from me.” Javier quipped, looking down at you. “I thought you were gorgeous when you were pregnant with Josie. Think you’re gorgeous all the time.” 

You ran your hand up the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Josie’s going to be so excited when it happens.”

“You think?” Javier chuckled. “Though she might lose her mind over the thought of not being daddy’s only little girl.”

“It might be a boy.” You pointed out. 

“Steve will expect us to name him after him. It’s got to be a girl.” Javier made a disgruntled face. 

You laughed, slowly winding your arms around him and pressing your face into his chest. “I’ll stop taking my birth control tomorrow. It’ll take a couple weeks for the hormones to clear out of my system and then…”

Javier wrapped his arms around you tightly, leaning down to press his face into the crook of your neck. Who would’ve thought, way back when, that this was the man that would change your life forever. That made every day an adventure. Which wasn’t to say that he wasn’t an absolute asshole somedays, but you were well aware of the fact that you could also drive him up the wall too. You were perfect counterweights to one another. 

It was crazy to think that in just ten months you might have another baby in the house. 

Colombia felt like a lifetime ago already. The trauma of Josie’s birth — simply a whisper of the past. It wouldn’t be like that this time. This new baby would proudly be a Peña from the moment he or she was born. Javier wouldn’t have to hide his elation, miss out on the sonograms or the heartbeats. He wouldn’t have to slide out of your bed and leave you in the mornings or come home to you late at night.

You were stuck with him. Right where you wanted him. 

#javier pena x reader #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader

[atths--twice]

Promises of Spring

After Babylon, Scully and Mulder have a roundabout discussion about their relationship, as memories of the past intertwine with the present.

Next in the Year of Prompts... I have been seeing A LOT of gifs on Twitter from the end of Babylon and it prompted me to wonder about the birdhouse that is hanging from the porch. Why is it there? How long has it been there? I had to know, to create a reason as to why and this is what I believe could be the reason.

I hope you enjoy it. 💜

April 2016

Scully stood waiting while Mulder went inside to get them something to drink. She smiled, somewhat sadly, as she looked around the familiar porch, at the chairs sitting in the same place as the last time she had visited.

Letting out a breath, her eyes landed on the small wooden birdhouse hanging from a hook. Closing her eyes, she shook her head as she heard the screen creak open.

“Here you go.”

She opened her eyes and turned to take the beer he was handing to her.

“Thanks.”

“Hmm.”

He smiled as he tipped his bottle and the mouth of it clinked against hers. She smiled back, but did not quite feel it. He took a drink and she watched his throat as he swallowed, wishing she could kiss that skin that tasted so sweet.

“How’s your injury?” she asked, nodding to his neck. He shrugged and sighed.

“Do you want to take a look?”

“Do you want me to?” she countered and his mouth twitched. He tugged at his shirt and bent closer to her, allowing her better access to see it. “Hmm. Looks like angry hickeys.” She looked at him pointedly and he shook his head as he let go of his shirt.

“No. That’s definitely not what it is,” he assured her, staring into her eyes.

“I know. But 50 shades of bad?” she asked and his eyes widened. “Yeah. She told me.” He shook his head and she smiled slowly.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t something I planned.”

“I know that too.” She took a drink of her beer and raised an eyebrow at him. “You should put something on it, help with the sting and scarring.”

“I thought chicks dig scars?”

“Chicks? Are you trying to impress someone? A bird perhaps?”

“No. And definitely not a bird,” he said with a chuckle.

“You sure?” She glanced at the birdhouse hanging from the porch beam and then back at him. He sighed as he looked and then dropped his head.

“Have you seen them again?” she asked quietly and he shook his head. “It’s still possible. Maybe…” He raised his head and she smiled softly at the look in his eyes, feeling like she had gone back in time.

Six years ago, she had brought home a birdhouse in a Secret Santa exchange party at the hospital. It had been a looking forward to spring! gift: a large brown bag inside which was a log cabin styled birdhouse, flower seeds, a trowel, gardening gloves and a small watering can with a daisy shaped spout.

She had thanked Doctor Hahn, but knew that she would most likely not use any of the items. She herself had purchased a nice bottle of wine and decanter for Doctor Kent, quite nearly forgetting she had to buy a gift at all.  

Coming home, she had set the bag on the table and laid her coat on a chair. She could hear Mulder upstairs, the floorboards creaking. Within seconds, he had thundered down the stairs, dressed and ready to go to her mothers for her annual Christmas party.

“Hey, beautiful,” he had said, pulling her close and kissing her. “How was your day?”

“Long,” she had replied, laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. “God, you smell good.” He had laughed and rocked them back and forth, humming a Christmas tune.

“Go get changed. I’ll wait down here. Get the gifts in the car.”

“Sure you don’t want to come upstairs with me?” she had asked, raising her eyebrows as she took off her shoes and dropped them beside the stairs.

“I’m ready to go and if I come upstairs with you… we will be late and your mother will be angry with me.”

“God forbid,” she had scoffed and he nodded with a serious expression. “Fine, I’ll go upstairs.” She started and stopped after a couple of steps. “Alone.”

“Scully,” he had warned and she laughed, continuing on her way.

A quick shower, dressed, makeup reapplied and her hair in a low messy bun, she had grabbed her shoes and gone downstairs. Putting her coat and shoes on, Mulder had held the door open as they left.

Three hours later, she had woken abruptly as they pulled up to the house. Mulder had smiled and with an arm around her waist, he had helped her inside. Taking off her shoes, he had guided her up the stairs and helped her undress and taken down her hair.

“I can do it myself,” she had said tiredly even as she had lifted her arms for the long sleeved shirt he offered her.

“I know you can,” he had said with a chuckle. “I also know you worked a long shift, had a quick party there, drove home, and then went to another party. With Bill in attendance.” She had exhaled a small laugh and swayed on her feet as the shirt had gone over her head.

“Come on.” He had led her to the bed, pulling the covers back and she laid down, closing her eyes as he had covered her up. “I’ll be right back. Gotta get the gifts and the leftovers out of the car.” He had kissed her and she hummed.

Exhausted, she had not woken when he had come back to bed.

The scent of coffee had woken her the next morning and she came down the stairs, yawning sleepily. A mug was placed in front of her as she sat at the table. She hummed, her eyes closing as she breathed in the heavenly aroma of coffee, and Mulder chuckled.

Breakfast was pumpkin pie and fudge, Mulder winking as he had served it to her and she laughed. Grabbing his arm and halting his steps, she had smiled as he bent his head and kissed her.

“So whaddya get?” he had asked, gesturing to the bag from Doctor Hahn.

“A happy package.”

“What… what kind of happy?” he had asked, confusion on his face and she laughed, standing up to show him what was inside the bag.

“Ohhh… more of a “better days ahead than the cold winter.” My mind went in a completely different direction.” She had looked at him and he pumped his eyebrows at her.

“Not that kind of gift exchange.”

“Too bad…” He had winked and she shook her head with a smile. “But I like that. Doctor Hahn… have I met him… her?”

“Her. And I’m not sure. I doubt I’ll ever use them, but it’s a nice thought.” She had started to put it away and he stopped her, picking up the birdhouse and taking it out to the porch, and she followed.

“There, at least we’ll have something of it used.” He had hung it on a hook and she nodded.

“A bit early though.”

“Then the birds will have time to scope it out.” Laughing, she had wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at the birdhouse as he rubbed her back.

Winter had continued, the birdhouse hanging through wind, snow, and rain. When spring had arrived, to Scully’s surprise, Mulder planted the flower seeds in six colorful pots he had purchased at a nursery. She had smiled when she arrived home, the pots a welcome bright spot on a gray day.

They had sprouted, but no birds made a home in the birdhouse that spring. Mulder had not been deterred and he looked into how to attract birds to the yard. He had been very into it- buying bird feeders, food, and extra sunflower seeds, trying to tempt birds. They had come to eat, but not until the following March, had a pair of birds made a nest in the birdhouse.

He had watched them every day, making Scully go around the back to leave, so as not to disturb them. She had rolled her eyes and grumbled, but always with a smile, happy he found a positive outlet for his obsessive nature.

Her phone would buzz in her pocket, with pictures of the birds that had been taken through the screen, appearing in her messages along with updates.

I think she’s laying eggs, or getting ready, I don’t see her leaving the house anymore.

You two have that in common, she had texted back. Well, aside from the laying eggs bit.

Hilarious you are, came his reply and she had smiled.

That day she had come home to many brightly colored plastic Easter eggs, hidden around the house, and Mulder grinning like a fool.

The bird, a tufted titmouse, which he had smirked at the first time saying it, had laid three eggs, which he had seen when she had flown away and he had stood on a stepstool to quickly observe.

Three eggs, Scully. What shall we name them?

One, two, and three? She had typed back, standing in the hospital locker room, smiling and awaiting his response.

There’s that humor I love so much.

Not good enough?

I was thinking… Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

Except those are ducks, not titmice.

Hmm… you wrote tit.

She had laughed and licked her lips, as she had walked to the sink to wash her hands.

And if one of them is a girl? She had asked, standing by the sink.

Cross that bridge later. The names have been entered into the log.

She had shaken her head and slipped her phone into her pocket, washing her hands and muttering the names under her breath.

When the birds had hatched, it seemed a near constant chirping was heard from the nest; the triplets crying for their next meal.

I saw one today!! Wasn’t ready or I’d have snapped a picture. On high alert now. I’ll keep you posted.

She had smiled, hurrying to a meeting and had no time to answer.

When she had come home, he had spoken quickly, telling her about the birds, showing her pictures of them, some blurry and some crisp. It had felt like the old days, when he was excited about a case and she had laughed as she listened to him, finding the joy in his happiness.

When the last bird had left the nest however, there had been sadness, his days no longer filled in the same way. The flowers had been replanted, though the color of the pots had faded somewhat. He had refilled the bird feeders, hoping to entice them back for next year, but then… the possibility of the world ending occupied his attention and she had started to lose him.

One late winter day, she had come home to find the bird feeders gone and the birdhouse down from the hook on the porch. Sighing, she had paused with her hand on the door, shaking her head sadly, knowing what she would find inside.

Mulder had been in his office, the door partially shut, the printer whirring away as he tapped quickly on the computer’s keyboard. She sighed again as she had stared at him, at the drastic change from the excited man of last year, to the man who sat before her.

“What’s up, Doc?” he had said, his voice different than the last time he had said it, low and as though he had not spoken all day. She had shaken her head as she walked into the room.

“What happened to the bird feeders? The birdhouse?” His back had stiffened and she heard him sigh deeply.

“I took them down.”

“I saw that, Mulder. That’s why I’m-”

“There’s no point. It doesn’t matter.”

“Why would you-”

“Because it’s the truth. It doesn’t matter.”

She had stood there, waiting for what she did not know, but he had not turned around, would not face her. Shaking her head, she had drawn in a silent breath, closing the door quietly behind her.

The shower had been the only witness to her tears that night, her heart beginning to break.

She sighed as she stared at him now, the beer in her hand cold and wet with condensation as the past faded away, though the pain remained. Buried deep, like the seeds of the flowers he had carefully planted so long ago. She tried not to let it show as she smiled at him, hoping it did not look as awkward as she felt it did.

“It’s too late,” he said softly, attempting a smile as shook his head and glanced at the birdhouse. “I don’t even know why I bought it really. It just…” He shrugged and looked back at her. “It’s always best to try, right?”

She held his gaze and heard the double meaning in his question. Well, triple if she was honest with herself. She nodded and he sat down, while she leaned against the railing, feeling as though she was still balancing between the past and the present.

“You should get new feeders. Start from scratch. Follow the same plan as before.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?” he asked softly, the beer bottle resting on his knee as he stared at it.

“Well, it worked before. Who’s to say those birds haven’t flown past many times, remembering their home here, wishing they could come back?” His head shot up and her heart stood still as she realized what she had said. “I mean-”

“And perhaps they see this house here… the same, but a little different.” He continued her narrative, nodding toward the birdhouse and she exhaled, not taking her eyes off of him.

“You said they mated for life, right?” He nodded, his eyes staring intently at her. “Then, maybe they’ve been waiting for the right time to come back but… it wasn’t an option just yet.” She watched him breathe, his chest rising and falling.

“It’s too late in the season. I was late. I didn’t think…”

“But you are now,” she said quietly and he nodded slowly as he exhaled a quiet breath. “That’s all you can do, I suppose.”

“Just think? No actions to be taken?”

“There are always actions to take,” she nearly whispered and he nodded slightly.

“What would you suggest?”

She stared at him, at the man she loved so very much, but who had also broken her heart. No… that was not fair. They had hurt each other. Neither of them was completely guilty, but nor were they innocent. They had both gotten to this point together, and they were slowly repairing the giant explosion that had ripped them apart.

She cleared her throat and glanced down at the bottle of beer in her hand. It was still nearly full and she knew if she tried to take a sip now, she would choke on it, unable to swallow past the lump in her throat. Taking a breath she looked back up at him.  

“Patience. That’s always good,” she whispered and he nodded slightly. “Making… finding… Christ.” She laughed bitterly as she felt tears stinging her eyes and she looked down, hoping to blink them away. He was quiet, thankfully, and she was able to get a hold of her emotions.

“I could put out flowers. Don’t know if those seeds from years ago are still good, but I could try. See if I could resurrect the past.” She nodded and took a deep breath. “Or like you said, I could start from scratch. Create a new beginning.” She lifted her head and stared at him again.

“Or… you could reconcile the two,” she said, echoing his words, bringing their conversation back to where it had been earlier.

“Hmm,” he hummed with a nod. “That might be the way forward.”

“I think it just might be.” He nodded again and she smiled, glancing down at her beer before raising it and taking a drink. Licking her lips, she held it in her lap again, watching him as he drank his own.

“You want to stay for dinner?” he asked and she raised her eyebrows, the direction of the conversation switching again, neutral ground found once more.

“You have food here? Not just popcorn and snacks?”

“We could order in,” he said after a pause and she knew she was right. She chuckled with a nod and then shrugged.

“Or we could go out,” she suggested and he grinned, standing to his feet.

“Garelli’s?”

“Ohh… yeah. That sounds delicious.” She pushed away from the railing and he reached for her beer which she happily handed over, her mind already on the garlic breadsticks and marinara sauce.

He took their bottles inside and came out carrying a lightweight jacket, locking the door behind him.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” She took her keys from her pocket and smiled as they walked down the stairs and to her car.

Backing up, she glanced at the birdhouse once more, before heading down the driveway. Pausing at the end, she looked at him and he smiled, offering her his hand. She took it as she turned right, the simple act achingly familiar.

He hummed a tune that sounded like a song she had heard recently and she smiled as his thumb rubbed her hand softly. She sighed contentedly and heard him do the same as he squeezed gently. She closed her eyes briefly, and thought of birdhouses, spring flowers, and listening, truly listening.

Suddenly realizing she did know the song he was humming, she began to hum with him, her heart feeling lighter than it had of late. She squeezed his hand and smiled as she hummed, hearing the words in her head, a truth that could not be denied, even if the path was a little uncertain at the moment.

I belong with you, you belong with me, You’re my sweetheart...

#The X-Files #XF Fanfic #Post Babylon #Happy #Drinking #Christmas Presents #Winter #Spring #Birdwatching #Laying Eggs #Depression #Sadness #Memories #Relationship Discussions #Hopeful Future

[7team7]

Choosing Fate: Chapter 9

A delicate balance. // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 

A/N: hi sorry I keep forgetting to update here lol, I should also add my snippets that I put on twitter ahh

.

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“Don’t do anything Itachi wouldn’t,” Fugaku warned Sasuke before heading out. The small party walked slowly off into the distance and Sasuke squinted when he realized they were taking a route that would surely delay their journey. Perhaps that particular path was longer and more roundabout, but flatter and easier on Izumi’s swollen feet. He shut the door when he couldn’t make out any of their features beyond the signature dark hair.

“They have a son, that means we’re off the hook for a while, right?” Sakura joked weakly from behind him. The clan had already become obsessed with young Ishida, clamoring all over each other to hold him.

He purposely ignored thinking about producing another heir. He turned away from the door and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder, “You did well,” he praised. “You should rest now.” As much as everyone cooed over the baby, they weren’t willing to actually do the heavy lifting like Sakura. Izumi’s body was, naturally, still recovering and she needed all the substantial help she could get.

Sakura chuckled lightly to hide her shyness, “I’m not the one who had the baby, but thanks. And how are you feeling about it?” This new development seemed to push Itachi onto an even higher pedestal in Fugaku’s eyes even if the sex of the baby was completely random.

Sasuke shrugged, “I’m an uncle now.” He didn’t want to think about it much beyond that.

.

They settled into separate routines: Sakura resumed her regular training with Tsunade and Sasuke picked up his father’s work wherever he could. Because of the extra work, he couldn’t walk her to her destination anymore. It was strange how little they saw of each other. It felt like every time Sasuke put one thing down, Sakura picked another one up and he was getting restless. He expected to appreciate the peace and quiet, but he was feeling a little ignored. He was lonely. He looked for hints of pink and green everywhere, and grew frustrated when they were nowhere to be found.

“Going out?” he’d ask her after she prepared breakfast and packed a lunch for him. He didn’t even ask her to, but she always did it and always included his favorites. Having the house to themselves meant they didn’t have to compete with everyone else’s food preferences, and even then, she added extra spice to his food and never offered him sweets because she knew he’d always turn them down. These small acts of intimacy were strange to him.

“Yes, don’t worry about it,” she’d answer pleasantly in that sweet voice of hers. But something in the tone of her voice was reassuring, as if she assumed he wanted to make sure she’d be out of his hair when in fact, it was the opposite. Would it kill her to stay home and rest one day? No, it wouldn’t, just like he knew no patients would die without her flitting over to her mentor’s home for the day. But he wasn’t sure how to say all that, so he stewed in his own bitterness. He watched her back as she walked out the front door, taking note of how long her hair had become.

All the extra time alone made him question his own daily activities. Why did he follow in his father’s footsteps again? As he braved the more-chaotic-than-ever marketplace on his own again, he couldn’t come up with an answer. The face reflected back at him from his family’s shiny knives seemed to laugh at him. He looked like an Uchiha, but lately, he wasn’t feeling like one.

Sakura didn’t seem to have this problem.

.

Their routines were suddenly disrupted and they both were forced to stay indoors when a storm threatened to dump water and lightning all over the village. Sakura peered out the window at the heavy gray clouds rolling in, “It’s not even worth trying today if I get caught in the rain.” She didn’t know it, but Tsunade was curled up on the couch with a cup of sake, already expecting Sakura to stay home.

He had plans to sell some things at the market, but surely this weather would drive all the customers away. It seemed that he had to stay put too. Sakura proudly declared she was going to catch up on some reading, so he took the time to look over their financial documents to make sure all was in order. Maybe Father was just getting old, but he thought he noticed some discrepancies last time he glanced at them.

Sasuke didn’t realize how long he’d been sitting in one position until a clap of thunder and lightning stirred him. He was sitting on one side of the table and looked up at Sakura, expecting her to still be turning pages in her book.

Instead, she was draped across the book, totally asleep. In the fading light, her hair became a dusky rose and it spilled across the table like a pile of petals. He tsked to himself, what a silly woman. How could that be comfortable?

He stood up, readying himself to wash up before bed. But he hardly took one step out of the kitchen area before looking back at his wife.

Her neck would become sore. And she would become cold. What was he going to do, leave her there all night?

He sighed. His decision was made. Gently, as not to wake her up, he slid his hands under her body and scooped her up to carry her to the actual bed. She was light, but he stiffened briefly when he felt her nestle into his chest. He held her a little tighter, a little closer. She was warm, too. He wouldn’t say he breathed in her scent, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she smelled of fragrant jasmine tea when he was this close.

She didn’t stir again until he had finally, delicately, placed her on their bed.

“Wha’s going on?” she mumbled, still half asleep.

“I’m taking you to bed,” he said quietly.

She turned over onto her side and Sasuke draped the covers over her body, bringing them all the way up to her chin. She settled deeper into the mattress and before knocking out again, sighed, “Ah, that’s nice, darling.”

Sasuke was wide awake all night, acutely aware of the warm body slumbering next to him.  

.

Something snapped two days later.

He was watching from their bed as she tidied up some of her hair ornaments on the dresser. Her hands were dainty, but he knew they had become a bit rough lately. Her head was bowed and she couldn’t see him, but he was staring very intently.

Why was the curve of his wife’s neck so alluring? When did he start noticing these things? It was just skin, just a body part. But no matter how hard he tried convincing himself that her anatomy didn’t affect him, his mouth still became dry and his heart still beat a little faster.

When she started changing her clothes in front of him, he had to speak up.

“What are you doing?” he asked, more surprised than anything, but his words came out with a harsh edge.

“Uh, changing? I’d like to get into my sleep clothes so I can go to bed soon.” It was incredibly sweet of Sasuke to bring her to bed the other night (something she couldn’t help but blush over), but she woke up feeling a bit yucky that she was wearing her normal clothes in bed.

“Next time give me a warning,” he grumbled, turning away to stare at a random spot on the wall.

Sakura walked over and put a hand on his broad shoulder, but he jerked at her sudden touch. She frowned down at him, “Why are you so jumpy?” She really only meant to talk to him.

“It’s too quiet in here,” he grumbled.

She pulled back as if she’d been burned, “Sorry, maybe we can get a chaperone again.”

“There’s no need to be dramatic.”

“Oh please,” she snorted, “try taking your own advice.” For at least a week he had been leaving the house with a dramatic flourish of his cloak.

“Don’t be difficult.”

She laughed without humor, “Really, Sasuke? I think you’re the difficult one.”

His eyes narrowed, “What makes you say that?” For someone who often babbled when nervous, she sounded quite sure of herself.

She smiled to herself and it filled his chest with an unnamed emotion. “I think you miss me,” she said haughtily.

“And just why the hell would you think that?” he growled, standing up and walking closer to her, invading her space as if he scared her anymore.

She continued even as she got backed up against a wall, “You like spending time with me. You like it when we’re together. So you get grumpy when we’re apart and it’s easier to blame me for being somewhere else than to accept that you miss your wife.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Well, then how could I? You barely ever talk to me!”

“There’s no need.” He thought their communication had been fairly decent, to be honest. What was there to talk about?

“You’re sullen and closed off.”

“And you’re annoying,” he seethed before swiftly leaning down to pin her against the wall and kiss her harshly. She made a small noise of surprise, but didn’t struggle. His eyes were screwed shut, and hers first widened in surprise, then fluttered closed. She would have evaporated if he looked at her with that intense stare she had come to know so well.  

She wasn’t very annoying to him when he was kissing her, she thought hazily. Rather, when they were kissing, he was very attentive. Despite his earlier stormy aura, he pulled back so his kiss wasn’t so bruising and his hand carded tenderly through her hair.

“Sasuke-kun,” she whispered against his lips.

A shiver wracked his body. She had never called him that before. He licked his lips and pulled away to look into her seaglass eyes. “What is it, my wife?”

She looped her arms around his neck and scratched lightly at his scalp, “I just want you to talk to me.” She felt his shoulders relax even more. Hm, who would’ve thought to use her womanly charms to get her husband to open up?

“About?”

“Anything, everything. You and me, maybe.”

He contemplated this and sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Like what?”

His brow creased deeply before he rendered her breathless with another kiss. “Like this. You’re the one who moved here. My life was supposed to stay the same. But no, you’ve come in and changed it all.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She never wanted to intrude, but if he stayed in the same place for his entire life, Sakura had a feeling Sasuke would be deeply unhappy.

“No,” he breathed deeply, “it’s not. It’s just hard to get used to.” He used to think he always knew what to do, there was always someone to show him his path, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“I just want us to be comfortable with each other.”

He pressed himself impossibly closer to her and smirked, “You’re feeling pretty comfortable right now.”  

She gasped hotly, “Excuse me, I didn’t realize I married a pervert.”

“I’m just telling you what’s on my mind, I thought that’s what you wanted,” he said before capturing her lips again in a searing kiss.  

She pushed him away for a moment and became serious, “Ask me. Just ask me what I want.”

He studied her face carefully before nodding. “Okay, okay. I will.”

And then before wrapping her arms around him again to resume the kiss, she whispered, “Thank you.”

.

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A/N: Aliss chose the baby name so thank her :* also when writing the Argument scene I kept laughing thinking about those memes that are like ooh I know you wanna kiss me so bad!! 

#sasusaku #my writing #sasusaku fan fiction #fan fic #arranged marriage au

[sondepoch]

Day 2

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST

By the time dinner is concluded and you're finally at Jumin's penthouse, it's well past midnight. 

Still a child used to her normal daily routine, it takes all your effort to keep your eyes open, with your body relaxed from the wine and your mind tired from trying not to further aggravate Jumin.

"I'll show you the guest room in a moment," Jumin says stiffly. "Just wait on the couch for a moment while I make sure that it's been properly set up."

With that, he leaves.

You waste no time in flopping onto his couch, not caring about your dress wrinkling. I'll just lie down for a moment until Jumin comes back, you tell yourself, kicking your heels onto the floor and resting your head on the armrest.

For the next thirty seconds, you really do attempt everything in your power to stay awake. You try to think about the engagement, your mother, even Jumin himself, but for some reason, you can't bring yourself to care about anything when the pull of Hypnos grows stronger.

Vaguely, you recognize the sound of someone saying your name. Is that Chairman Han? You wonder, before realizing that this man's voice has a slightly different cadence to it: softer, deeper, and gentler.

But even that thought takes too much energy and you fall asleep to the feeling of a soft blanket being wrapped around you, utterly unaware of the sighing man watching you.

Sleep is surprisingly blissful on that couch.

When you wake up, half of you is still in the dreamworld, and the morning drowsiness hits you harder than usual.

It takes you a minute to remember where you are, why you fell asleep on a couch, and whose apartment you're in. Right, you think with a grimace. I'm with Jumin.

It barely takes a single glance around the apartment for you to now realize what your mind had been too exhausted to register yesterday: this entire penthouse is suspiciously familiar. You pull yourself off the couch, wondering why, and it's only when you see the full-glass wall to the left of you that you remember.

After all, how could you ever forget such a view?

You stand up from the couch, wrapping your blanket further around your body as you walk over to the windowed wall. From such a high distance, the people walking around in Seoul are nothing more than colored spots, the cars they're driving just ants carrying them here and there. 

You saw this very same view nearly a decade ago, when you'd visited the home of a classmate for a group project. Jumin must have purchased this within the past few years.

A soft smile blooms on your lips at the memory of your past.

Back then you'd been so innocent and carefree, never realizing that one day your mother would marry you off to a man older than even your adoptive father.

But this is the life I've been given, so there's no point in brooding about it, eh? You tell yourself, resolving to be strong.

You force yourself away from the window. There's no point in reminiscing over the past. The fact that you're even in Jumin Han's penthouse is a testimony to your need to prepare yourself for the future.

You make your way to the guest bathroom, sliding the door open. Relief floods you when you find that Jumin has left you everything you could possibly need: a fresh change of clothes, toiletries, and what looks like a professional-grade makeup kit.

You look at the various foundations suspiciously before deciding not to use any of them, uncomfortable with using a brand of makeup your skin isn't used to. Besides, you think while gazing at your skin in the mirror. It's not like I need to impress Jumin.

You shower and change into the clothes you'd been left, pleasantly finding that they were just loose enough to make you look comfortable but still cute. Alright, you think, smiling at your reflection. Let's get some breakfast.

But by the time you've maneuvered your way to the kitchen, you're shocked to find that Jumin is already there.

"What's this?" You muse out loud, grabbing his attention. "Jumin Han making breakfast? Never did I think I'd see the day."

The man in front of you averts his eyes, going back to frying the omelet in his pan. "The chef called in sick. His usual replacement is apparently on vacation."

You let out a light chuckle before taking the cooking spatula from Jumin's hand. "You have to use oil if you want the egg to cook properly."

He doesn't respond while you turn the electric stove off, and you can't suppress your laughter at the executive director's inability to do something simple as cooking eggs. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

"I haven't, but you certainly have." Jumin looks away, not meeting your eyes, killing your mirth in an instant.

"Jumin...I'm marrying your father because I love him. There's no ulterior motive, nothing else to it." You try to get Jumin to look you in the eyes, but his gaze is locked on the ruined eggs.

"My father might love you, but you don't love him," Jumin mutters, glaring. "I haven't figured out what your angle is, but I won't be fooled. Go, your phone is ringing."

You turn around and, sure enough, your phone's screen is lit up with the bright contact picture of Chairman Han. You pick up the phone and turn your body away from Jumin so that he can't see the grimace on your face as you speak to your fiancé.

"Hi dear," You say with fake excitement. "How are you?"

"Horrible, (Y/N)," Chairman Han says from the other line. "The Director of International Communications was right...this whole situation is too high-level for me to discuss over the phone. But C&R will be in huge trouble if I don't stay here and sort this out. I'm sorry, my love, but you'll need to stay with Jumin for a few more nights."

"I see," You say, tone flat. You don't know whether you should be excited at the prospect of a few more days without Chairman Han's presence or terrified of how Jumin will behave with you.

As if he were hearing your internal thoughts, though, Chairman Han asks, "Is my son treating you well?"

You swallow nervously, well-aware that you can only say one thing. "Of course. Jumin's been very good to me."

Chairman Han sighs. "Good. I'm sorry, sweetling, but I have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Until then, goodbye."

The man pauses, before adding: "I love you, (Y/N)."

You swallow. There's only one thing for you to say. "I love you, too."

From behind you, Jumin scoffs.

When you've hung up, you turn to him once more. "Looks like I'll be staying with you a couple more nights."

But if Jumin heard you, he makes no indication of such. "I'm going to work."

"It's Sunday."

"I'd rather be at an empty C&R building than with a liar like you. Deceive my father you might, but I won't fall for your tricks."

"Jumin..." You trail off, trying not to be insulted by his words.

But before you can say anything more, he's grabbed an umbrella and is out the door, leaving only you in his lonely, lonely apartment.

Or at least, that's what you thought half an hour ago, before you met his adorable cat.

She now lies curled in your lap, licking her paw daintily while you try not to squeal from how precious she is. Your fiancé had ranted half a hundred times to you about how his son obsessed over his cat: Elizabeth the Third. (Or is it the Fourth? You can't remember.) When you first heard about it, you'd scoffed and dismissed the notion of any animal being so mesmerizing, but now that Elizabeth is actually in your lap, it's hard not to fall in love with her.

Stroking her head delicately, you can't help but sigh. "Why won't Jumin accept me as easily as you, Elizabeth?"

A part of you almost waits for the cat to respond, before you realize what you're doing. Sighing, you turn to your phone and check your texts. No messages from Mother, nothing from Chairman Han, and...who else would text you? Jumin doesn't even have your number.

You groan, hating how he stormed out. But curse as you might, you know that there's nothing you can do about his prejudice against you.

Objectively speaking, he's in the wrong. You gain nothing from this marriage with Chairman Han. BC-Sonic is on a steady rise, and will soon be as large as C&R; your family is wealthy enough that a divorce settlement would be useless; and Chairman Han can't give you anything you don't already have.

But then, when one considers the more delicate nuances behind the marriage, it feels like Jumin has the truth of it.

You don't love Chairman Han, though you've managed to get the older man to fall in love with you.

But maybe that's okay.

Because Chairman Han will be happy with you by his side. You're a good actor, you'll live the rest of your life pretending to reciprocate his affections...and you'll give him true happiness. You've spent your whole life trying to be the perfect daughter, and now all your efforts will turn to being the perfect wife.

So Jumin has no reason for complaint.

If anything, his father benefits most from this marriage, by wedding a youthful and beautiful woman who's long captured the heart of the media.

I should be the one protesting this, You tell yourself, before remembering why you hadn't. It's not like I have a choice, you remember, thinking of your mother. In a roundabout way, this marriage would also bring you happiness. It'll free me of Mother.

You massage your thigh, images of growing up flashing through your mind, before you shake your head.

It's not good to dwell on the past. As soon as your marriage with Chairman Han is complete, you'll leave those memories in the past.

Forever.

You stare at your phone once more, hesitating before typing in C&R's name into the search engine. Part of you hoped that there would be some word of the 'huge trouble' Chairman Han had said his company was in, but somehow the media has yet to catch wind of the situation.

That's a good thing, though. If C&R's stock drops, then Chairman Han will want to advance the wedding date to connect our companies as quickly as possible.

You tap the search bar again, and this time enter: Jumin Han. Your idea was strange, and a little unrealistic, but it might give you some information as to where Jumin went. Surely he didn't actually go to C&R.

The page loads and sure enough, a low-credited media outlet has already released an article about Jumin Han: Shopping Adventure?!?! as of thirty minutes ago. At the top of the page, there's a picture of him holding a bag from some store you vaguely recognize, and he's in the same suit and umbrella as when he left the house. Never doubt the media, you tell yourself, mildly amused at how they managed to make a full article about something as mundane as a rich man shopping.

On the bright side, though, you at least know that Jumin is safe and accounted for. You make a mental reminder to ask for his phone number when he returns. Next time, you doubt there'll be an article online detailing his whereabouts.

But as minutes stretch into hours, and morning turns into evening, you realize, with fear, that Jumin might not be coming back. After cleaning the dish you had used to give Elizabeth dinner, you glance at the door hesitantly, as if staring longer will make Jumin walk through the door.

Sadly, it doesn't work.

You glance at your phone once more, now worried. You could call Chairman Han and ask him for his son's phone number...but no, you don't want any reason to talk with him now. You've already been sentenced to spend the rest of your life with the man, you'll enjoy this brief freedom from him as much as you can.

So who should you call...?

You have few acquaintances in this strange city of Seoul, never having been here for any purpose except business. There was always that one man...but you don't even know where he lives, much less if he's still at his old number.

Still, it's worth a shot.

You dial in the number you'd saved to your contacts so many years ago, wondering this was a lost cause. To your surprise, the man on the other line picks up instantly. "(F/N) (L/N)?" The man asks. "I've been waiting for you to call for the past four years! Are you here to chat, or are you finally going to cash in on one of those favors?"

"We can chat another time, Seven." You say, only knowing him by the hacker name he'd used when he first breached BC-Sonic's security system. "But right now, I have someone I need you to track down."

"Hm, I can do that. But I'll need you to narrow my search range down to at least the continent if you want an answer within the next twelve hours."

"How about if I tell you what city the person I'm looking for is in?"

On the other line, Seven laughs. "Sounds like you already know where they are, then. But yes, if you give me the city I can probably send you their exact address within the next ten minutes or so."

"That works."

"Good. Now, what's the name of the unfortunate soul that (F/N) (L/N) is hunting down?"

You sigh, frustrated that you're wasting a favor from one of the best hackers in the world to track down Jumin, but it can't be avoided.

"Jumin Han."

On the other line, the constant sound of typing from Seven's keyboard stops, and you can feel him shift all his attention to you. "(Y/N)..." He trails off, before continuing. "I'm sorry. He is one of the few people I cannot disclose private information on."

"Cannot or will not?" You ask, scowling. "Seven, you owe my company big-time for what you pulled when you breached our users' privacy. We've already suffered the backlash from the leak, but I did you a favor by not revealing your name to the public and you still attacked us two more times! You and I both know that all it takes is a public statement from me for your entire world to come crashing down, so save us both the trouble and find me Jumin Han!"

You bite your lip, hating that you had to resort to threatening the hacker, but it's nearing midnight and you need to know that Jumin is safe. It doesn't matter where he is, be it in a bar or a friend's home or even a strip club—you just need to know that he's safe.

On the other line, Seven sighs. "(Y/N), you and I both know that you're too good of a person to leak my information like that. We both know what would happen, and I doubt you want my blood on your hands. Besides, it would only bring back bad memories for BC-Sonic and the media would be reminded of the breach. Your company's stock would drop."

"And I'd bring it back up again," You respond, but you both know that your threat was meanignless as it was pathetic. "Alright, fine. Maybe I won't tell the media anything, but at least check that Jumin Han is safe, wherever he is. If you won't reveal his location to me, you must have some kind of allegiance to him, and he might be in danger right now."

"Why? Did he receive any threats?" Seven asks, voice serious.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you realize that your concern for Jumin is baseless, only supported by the fact that it's late and he has yet to come home...but the worry in your stomach is too strong for you to ignore. "I just..He left without saying anything. I thought I saw an article that said he was going shopping, but if that were the case he should have returned hours ago. I'm just worried because...because..."

Seven finishes your sentence for you.

"...Because he's going to be family?"

You swallow.

The one condition your parents had desired for your marriage with Chairman Han was that the media would receive no word of the engagement until the entire process was complete. It was to be completely secret until everything was finalized. But if Seven knows...

"D-Did the media find out?" You ask, terrified for the truth. You fear for yourself, remembering your mother's dark warning against any failure.

"Not quite..." Seven trails off. "Jumin sort of...told me."

You swallow.

What?!

And that is the precise moment that Jumin walks in through the door, leading the way for eight hired helpers who each carry two armfuls of shopping bags.

"I'll call you back," You tell Seven, before angrily turning to Jumin. "Where were you?!"

"Out," Is all he says, loosening his tie and pulling a wine glass from the cabinet while the rest of the helpers leave the room, leaving only you and the man of the hour himself.

"A call to the penthouse would have been appreciated," You mumble. "I was worried sick. And so was Elizabeth."

As soon as you mention the cat's name, she comes running into the room, purring as she nuzzles against your leg. Jumin looks down at her in surprise, before picking her up and placing her onto the table where he strokes her fur.

"I shouldn't need to inform you where I am. Remember, in this house, you're an intruder. You are welcome here because my father directly requested this of me, but you will never be welcome in this family."

Jumin looks like he was planning on saying more, but his phone begins buzzing from his pocket and he excuses himself to take the call. While he answers, you pour yourself a cup of wine and look at Elizabeth. She's already accepted you into the family, why does Jumin have to be so difficult?

"You called Luciel?" Jumin fumes at you when he returns. "You were going to have a hacker trace my whereabouts?"

You blink, not recognizing the name Luciel until you piece together that it must be Seven's real name. A strange name, you think, And probably another fake one, but it's information nonetheless.

"You had me worried, Jumin" You respond, voice low. You take another sip of wine, suddenly wishing that it were something stronger to give you the liquid courage you need to berate Jumin for his rudeness. "I was scared." That second part comes out in a whisper.

In front of you, the male seems taken aback by your sudden dejectedness. "I see," He says, though you can tell he wants to add more.

"We should exchange numbers, no?" You suggest, offering your phone to him so that he can enter his contact information. He doesn't repeat the gesture for you, but you don't think it matters, so long as you have his number.

A long silence follows, briefly interrupted only by Elizabeth's occasional purrs as Jumin rubs her head on the spot between her ears while you stroke her body. It's strange, but it's as if she's connecting the two of you, and healing all the seemingly unforgivable insults Jumin has labeled you with over the past two days.

"I'm tired," You tell him.

It's true, but you're not sure that he understands the full meaning behind the words.

There had been a day when you were excited about marrying Chairman Han, eager that the final piece in the puzzle of your life was going to be set in place. But then, you'd learned of his womanizing habits, his callous behavior, and his utterly banal taste.

You're tired.

You're tired of this engagement, but given that you have no choice in the matter and the fact that this engagement is your future, the truth is that you're tired of life. Tired of the life you've yet to even begin leading.

Still, it seems that Jumin picked up on some semblance of your meaning, and he sets down his wine glass. "I'd like to apologize, (Y/N)." He pauses, as if he were considering leaving it just at that, but finally continues. "I may have treated you...less fairly than you deserve."

An amused smile flits across your face. It wasn't an outright apology, still heavy with the implication that Jumin doesn't trust you, but it's progress.

"And how fairly do you think I deserve to be treated?" You ask, unable to hold the question back.

"I..." Jumin trails off. "I spoke with my father on the phone today. He...told me that your happiness was his happiness. I'm not foolish enough to believe that you love him, (Y/N), but if I mistreat you it will bring him pain. That's the only thing I wish to avoid."

You offer Jumin a light smile. "Jumin, if there's one thing I can promise you, it's that he will be happy with me. No matter what, he will feel loved."

"He will feel loved by you, but will he be loved by you?"

Your smile turns sour, and you think about the sad truth of life. "Is there truly a difference? He's happy regardless."

Jumin pauses, considering your words. Another moment of silence follows, and you almost stand up to go to bed, but the man finally speaks. "The difference is your happiness, (Y/N). Even if you're skilled enough to deceive my father into a false sense of happiness, what kind of life would you be leading?"

You swallow, trying your hardest to pretend as if you hadn't asked yourself the very same question this morning. Without any way to answer, you decide to use business tactics to respond. If you can't respond in a way that benefits the company, don't answer the question at all, your mother had once told you.

The same logic applies.

"We are in agreement that your father will be happy in this marriage. That is all that matters." To convey that this discussion is over, you stand up and announce that you'll be going to bed. It's not quite as late as it was when you'd arrived in Jumin's penthouse yesterday, but it's still well-past when you'd have liked to be asleep.

You don't look back when you leave the room, not even when you hear Elizabeth meow and attempt to follow you, for fear that Jumin will see your face and your tears.

For fear that Jumin will realize that thinking about the life you'll be leading brings you more pain than you've ever felt before.

For fear that Jumin will realize that you don't want this marriage any more than he does.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

Word count: 3.9k

Notes: Aghhh I'm so sleepy but I still have to work out >.> i kind of want to take a nap just to recharge but I know that if I do that I won't be able to get up UGH T^T plus i had ice cream today so if I skip ill feel guilty aghhhhhh woe is me

Comment & Like

Next Update: 4/11/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.

#Word count: 3.9k #jumin x reader #jumin han x reader #jumin #jumin han #romance #unfulfilled love #hope #child abuse #abuse #mystic messenger #mystic #mysme #chairman han #luciel #luciel choi #elizabeth the third #reader #xreader #self insert #business #engagement #marriage #angst #arranged marriage #COMPLETED

[honeymoonjin]

day 11 & 12

With Festa in full swing last week, I feel like I didn’t have a chance to breathe let alone sit down long enough to articulate a review worthy of Day 11. I shall endeavor to do my very best to make up for that here. And, upon reading the start of Day 12, I am actually kinda glad I waited because I think that it gave me time to put both chapters into perspective. 

Day 11 was a very emotional one for Jungkook and I feel like we got to see those emotions coming to a head in this chapter. On the whole, Day 11 was such a fun, lowkey entry that I wasn’t really sure if I would have anything coherent to offer beyond high pitched squealing accompanied by the occasional swoon and cooing. But after seeing the tension and subsequent squabble that transpired at the breakfast table on Day 12, I see that perhaps there was more to ruminate concerning the feelings that Jungkook had experienced in the confessional booth. It’s so interesting from a writers perspective that you chose Jungkook to be the one to reiterate the whole point of the show; he’s younger, thus perhaps conventionally he’s a bit more emotionally immature than the rest of the guys. And yet, from the beginning, none of these guys have ever been portrayed as stereotypical or conventional; you have always expertly reminded the audience that each of the contestants (including our lady!) is more much complex than what meets the eye. It’s one of the things that I love so much about this series; none of the characters are ever “too perfect” and it’s those candid moments of vulnerability or weakness that truly makes this story stand out from a lot of other stories that I read. So to choose Jungkook as the person to make those “bold” comments and to have Namjoon be the one to call him out for being insensitive makes me feel like Jungkook’s response was much more complex than what it seems at glance. Like, it’s pretty obvious that Jungkook likes and respects our lady and perhaps he realized his indiscretion just a little to late but now he’s put on the spot, he’s been called out in front of everyone, and beyond the fact that he probably feels like shit for saying what he said and inadvertently hurting our lady in the process. He’s probably also hella embarrassed. I wonder too if maybe Jungkook is also ashamed that the person who called him out was Namjoon, someone who I want to believe, he respects and perhaps maybe admires a little. And despite the fact that I chuckled a little bit when our lady noticed that Jungkook was “staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames”, I realized that he might also be both angry and disappointed in himself for his behavior. *sigh* Boy, you were so right all those weeks ago when you said “emotions are messy”. Anyway, that’s my roundabout way of saying, I liked the breakfast scene. Haha! Drama is inevitable; I love that you don’t shy away from presenting conflict for them to overcome. It offers opportunities for character growth and character exploration and I really appreciate that! 

Speaking of character growth, Namjoon got a chance to really flex those skills he acquired from “Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess”. That scene left me melting! Melting, I say! I’m not sure if you noticed but I make it a point to not reveal who my actual bias is in these reviews because I feel like I want to give all of the guys a chance to win me over for fan favorite. What I will say though is that you kind of hit on a lot of my personal preferences with Namjoon’s scene. Beyond the fact that the scene was really, really hawt, it fulfilled me on an emotionally intimate level, so it made the scene extra special. Bravo! 

And I suppose Jimin also deserves a standing ovation for that amazing show he put on. Holy smokes that was so hot. From the light banter and quips at the beginning of that scene to Jimin actually owning that entire lounge! And as amazing as the show (plus subsequent private scene with our lady afterwards) was, my favorite bit might be the exchange between Jimin and Hoseok, another scene that filled with tension and new revelations! It might actually be the most fascinating scene because it gave a glimpse at something rather unexpected; something has transpired between Hoseok and Jimin. I might be reading too much into the exchange but it feels as though something has happened away from the cameras between them. Because it feels like there has been a shift from blatant hostility between these two to something more akin to a genuine understanding that this is now a battle for power and control. I could be reaching but I feel like, at the very least, there have been words exchanged between them! It made the scene all the more intriguing! I loved every moment of it. Oh! Speaking of which, what is up with Jin?! When Yoongi asked Jin to speak to Kookie about what had happened that morning, it seemed he was a bit apprehensive to take up the task. I know that there might not be anything more there than just the fact that Jin might not want to be the one to have to broach the subject with Kookie but I feel like there’s more there than what meets the eye as well… my theory is in it’s fetus stage though, so I feel like I’ll hold back on my thoughts concerning Jin for now. And Yoongi, for that matter! I feel like there is something more there as well. AH! Too many theories to juggle! I will let you know what my thoughts are about it once I have gathered more adequate information. 

I still feel guilty for not being able to give you a full length review of Day 11. It really was such a great, light day. Jungkook’s scene left me all hot and bothered to the point where I spent the entirety of the week, searching up Jungkook smut fics to fulfill my Jungkook fix that that chapter evoked in me! Not to mention that the boys getting up to antics for a whiteboard that in the end they didn’t really need just made me all the more baffled by their behavior. It was fun, hilarious and just what I would expect from the guys.

To make up for not having anything for last week, I would like to take the opportunity to tell you about me loving this amazing story so much I nearly force-fed my best friend to read it with me so that I would have someone to fangirl with. Let me tell you a little bit about her. See, she doesn’t consume fanfics with as much verocity as I do. She is a very casual fanfic reader and if she does (which is rare in it of itself) she only ever reads MxM. Period. So when I told her the premises of “The Gentlemen” she was curious enough to read the contestant profiles. But I must say, from Day 1, you had her HOOKED! She would text me screenshots and emoji filled fangirlings in the wee hours of the morning (the only time she had to read at all) every single thing she loved about each chapter and it brings me so much joy that she was really dissecting and appreciating all the little things that I too loved about your story! We would have long, deep discussions about her prompt theories, her favorite members, tiny details that you’ve so expertly woven into the story (like Jimin’s tattoo for example, which is something she is obsessed with, btw) all of her favorite traits that our lady of the house has. It’s been so blissfully fun having this to share with her especially since I have her to thank for getting me into BTS in the first place. So, please know that you have a secret fan of “The Gentlemen” who would like you to know that she has been enjoying herself thoroughly and that she looks forward to your updates just as much as I do now! 

Anyhoo, I think I’ve prattled on long enough. Thank you so much for your continued hard work and dedication to this series! This was such an amazing chapter I cannot wait to see how everything unfolds; it feel as though these last 2 chapters have planted some major seeds (no pun intended!!); I look forward to see what it sows in the coming days. 💜 Jan

Oh my gosh! In all of my ramblings, I forgot to say "shout out to Lady Mango! You go get that stake, girly!" Also, YAY Grandma Park!! Heck, that entire exchange in the bathtub made me uwu so hard my heart is just a pile of mush rn! Also, also!! Jin x Tae is lowkey underrated, so thank you for that! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ I lub u so much!! kthnxbye

---

i’m not ashamed (okay, maybe a little) to admit that i kinda teared up and did a happy lil dance when i saw the email that you’d sent in a submission fksdjfkds i figured you’d probably been busy with life or with the mountainloads of content bighit is giving us these days so i was content to wait patiently, and it just made it that much more exciting when i saw this come in !

thank you, as always, for being so sweet and articulate and thoughtful in your reviews of the chapters. often you point out things that make so much sense that perhaps i hadn’t even noticed when writing. other times you hit an idea that i’d slipped in right on the nose. 

jungkook definitely is having a pretty tumultuous time on the show. for him, i imagine he feels like he’s the only one having a difficult time ironing out his feelings, or that if anyone else is struggling too, that they’re acting like nothing’s up. i also feel like jungkook’s competitive streak comes through in unexpected ways. of course he feels proud of his sexual prowess and kinda wants to showboat a little bit, but i think there’s an aspect too where he needs to be the one that’s always bolder than the others to assert his position. writing the namkook scene i kind of drew on that feeling where you’re fighting with someone you care about or think highly of, and even as you realise you’re wrong, you don’t want them to think badly of you and so you desperately scramble for a way to come out on top or prove you’re in the right. there’s also def a degree of him trying to convince himself the show is just about sex and that the rest doesn’t matter. he certainly doesn’t feel that way inside, but we see him vouching from that position so fiercely in d12. 

i’m glad you liked the namjoon scene !! one day i’ll figure out your bias fkdsjfksdjk you do such a good job at analysing and discussing everyone equally that it’s difficult >.<

it’s so fascinating to hear your jihope theory that they’ve spoken before. i must keep my silence on the details BUT there will be a very important scene between them coming up in the next few days of the show that i think will really change things between them and also how the readers see them. i’m super excited to write it ! 

beyond that, i’m happy you noticed something about jin in this chapter.... yn and jin still haven’t resolved their issues yet, plus here we are having jin not respond that well to being asked to counsel one of the members, something he always stated he was happy to do,,,,, hmmmm 0.0

i love hearing your theories so much !!! i eagerly await getting new content out so i can see how they shift and change from release to release

and also you really don’t need to feel bad ! there’s never any obligation to write out a long review for every chapter, but you do so anyway and that means a lot to me xx if you’re busy one week you don’t have to force yourself to make time for it. we have over 50 chapters, so we’re in for the long haul ! there’s really no rush

ahhhh that’s so cool to hear about your friend! it always warms my heart hearing stories of people that got their friends to begin reading and stuff, honestly even the thought that people think about tgm outside of reading it blows me away, it feels so special that it’s something y’all wanna share and discuss w your loved ones xx 

YES LADY MANGOOO i love adding little slips of her in the chapters, i know she doesn’t factor into the main story that much but everyone can rest assured that all of the members of the house (okay, and probably our three on-site producers too) spend a lot of time with her, walking her and cuddling her and playing with her. tae is probably currently trying to teach her some commands, but of course the only one she’s got the hang of is lie down jskfjsd

(finally YES taejin is such an underrated duo i love them)

[seven-oomen]

Hi Ben!  I see you’re still enjoying the absolute insanity that has gripped tumblr the last couple of days XD .  As someone who’s been a tumblr lurker for a number of years, this is hysterical enough from my side.  I can’t imagine the sheer ridiculousness of seeing it firsthand.  Virtually every blog I check, no matter if they’ve ever seen a SPN episode or not, has been posting about it.  It is WILD.

I feel like I’m at least a little lucky that I always skewed more ‘lock’ than anything (mainly because my 'who’ took a hard dive into Torchwood and never really recovered), so there’s less emotional flashbacks/richochets/rollercoastering/etc.  (Yes, I did in fact see the news about Sherlock season 5, but I never saw season 4 because of some of the feedback I heard before I got the chance to watch it, so it’ll take something truly impressive to draw me back now.)  Although in a roundabout way Sherlock is what eventually led me to Teen Wolf because of multi-focus blogs, so I guess I can thank it for that.

Work was one of those super fun days where the manager leaving not long after I got there was all “Yeah, it’s been really calm, and both deliveries so far have been small and should be easy to deal with."  So of course, about an hour after he leaves, four more pallets full of stuff show up, so I spent pretty much my whole shift trying to get everything checked in.  On the one hand, yay, less customers, on the other, hauling that shit around in a mask gets hot.

That dish sounds delicious, and definitely better than my sad lunch/dinner at work.  Ngl, I’m extremely jealous.

And omg, the last line post now has me nervous again because there are multiple options of who is saying whatever it is to whom, and all of them hurt.  XD  Also very here for the idea of a pack of three year-olds trying to pull a Parent Trap on their respective dads.  Is there a treehouse or playhouse they can lock them into to talk?  A moment of Jax and Stiles pointing out that they both agree on this, so they should know that it’s serious?  Trying to make them draw or write down why they’re sad, or whatever similar coping skills the dad usually has the kid use?  Trying to take away a treat of some sort/ground them from doing something/etc until they agree to talk to each other?  So many possibilities.

I cackled at that coffee shop guy post, because the sheer obliviousness demonstrated by the op throughout the story is almost the exact energy being displayed by Peter in my fake dating fic and seeing a story of it happening in RL about took me out.  XD

Also, I’m super curious what kinds of rituals you’re planning for the fic.  Good, bad, druidic, wolfy, pack, wedding, birth, sexy, friendship, binding, warding, ???  Inquiring minds want to know (whenever you are ready to share of course.  Inquiring minds can also be patient. ;D )

Oh, a funny moment at work!  I was picking up one of the pallets after I’d emptied it, and there was a knot in one of the boards that I almost knocked out as I grabbed it, and my brain’s immediate thought was "Whoops, almost just popped the knot on that wood”, immediately followed by the thought “Oh god, no, jesus christ, PHRASING, tonight of all nights, no."  (I am super sad that there is no one I work with that I could scream about this with.)

Anyway, I should wrap up because I need to leave for work soon.  Enjoy the continuing thrill ride that is this site, and best of vibes for any writing attempts today!  Take care!  *Hugs!*

Okay I’m gonna add the preview to your fic from your last message to this one so I have it all in one message here. Because after writing over 3K yesterday my brain is just really tired and I keep wanting to nap today. Haven’t done much and replying to two messages is a bit much. 

On the flip side, I did update Final Masquerade today and that chapter is almost 7K long. So yay!

Also, my fucking feelings while writing that. Jesus christ on a pogo stick.

And in the spirit of “Oh, did you say enemies-to-lovers?  Sorry, I heard idiots-to-lovers”, here is another preview from the fake dating fic, because I love this part, and it features the first appearance of Fashion Consultant Peter:

“Peter, what the hell are you doing in my closet?” Noah’s voice sounded like it was thankfully more bemused than annoyed, but Peter knew that it could be a fine line to walk.

“Trying not to cry in despair, for the most part. Why is everything you own at least a size too big and some shade of brown?” Peter called back over his shoulder, still staring at the somewhat neatly organized rainbow of dull, listless neutrals in growing dismay.

“I’m wearing a green shirt right now, asshole, and not all of us are interested in looking like we got squeezed into our clothing by force. Some of us actually acknowledge our age, and try to dress somewhat appropriately. Some of us also understand the value of blending in.”

“Okay, firstly, age, as they say, is just a number. Secondly, there’s trying not to stand out, and there’s just giving up. Though frankly, I’ve never quite put much stock in either.”

“Color me shocked to hear that from someone I’ve seen wear a cardigan like it was an actual shirt on more than one occasion.”

Peter shrugged as he continued to rifle through hangers and peek into storage containers, though he wasn’t certain that Noah could even see him from within the depths of the walk-in. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” The sigh that answered him held a level of long-suffering, begrudging patience that Peter was far more used to hearing directed at Stiles than himself.

—–

Why yes, there is indeed a trip suit shopping in the story.  Basically, I am cramming in every random obnoxiously trope-y thing I can remember from the few rom coms I’ve seen.  Also, there is so much food in this story.  Like, it’s ridiculous how often there someone ends up eating something.  I’m not even sure where it came from.

I’ve been reading this multiple times in the last few days, it’s just so cute! 

He’s in the closet huh? Is he gonna come out?

Sorry, sorry, I’ll can it XD 

And honestly, I think Tumblr’s 2012 insanity streak is the only thing keeping me sane right now. Because holy shit what a week.

I never really got into Sherlock myself or Doctor Who. I think I saw one episode of Dr. who (with David Tennant I think) and three episodes of Sherlock because my mom used to watch it.

I saw 12 seasons of Supernatural though, I definitely had an obsession with Destiel and particularly Dean Winchester. Fun fact; Cosplaying Dean made me comfortable enough to come out to my friends as transgender. Because I realized that I couldn't hide my gender even if I tried so hard for over 23 years.

And it was Supernatural that eventually led me to Teen Wolf. Well, that and Grimm, which was also a really fun show and really interesting.

Oh boy, yeah whenever a manager told me that I knew I was gonna be in for a very interesting night. For sure, sucks that you had to do that in a mask though. But on the other hand, no customer interaction does sound like it was a nice break in a way. And OMG I snorted!

It’s a good thing we don’t work together, I feel like the jokes wouldn’t have ended. My god I’m still snickering.

And omg, the last line post now has me nervous again because there are multiple options of who is saying whatever it is to whom, and all of them hurt.  XD  Also very here for the idea of a pack of three year-olds trying to pull a Parent Trap on their respective dads.  Is there a treehouse or playhouse they can lock them into to talk?  A moment of Jax and Stiles pointing out that they both agree on this, so they should know that it’s serious?  Trying to make them draw or write down why they’re sad, or whatever similar coping skills the dad usually has the kid use?  Trying to take away a treat of some sort/ground them from doing something/etc until they agree to talk to each other?  So many possibilities.

I do have a bit of an idea to have them go to the cinema with the kids and make them watch the parent trap, which of course leads to all sorts of shenanigans back at home where Allison and Malia are constantly trying to lock the dads in a room together, aided by Derek and Laura because Malia can’t reach the door handles just yet. Meanwhile Stiles and Jackson are coming up with increasingly elaborate schemes for two three-year-olds that involve their dads being locked in tree houses, sheds, and other places. Not to mention, the kindergarten pact.

And I like to think at some point the wives and Melissa start helping the kids as well. I mean I’d really like to build one giant polyamorous family for this fic.

#ben says stuff #my convos with anon #B #submission

[iwritefanficsometimes]

I Told You We Were Waiting For Someone

So I’m trying to decide if this is going to fit into a wider universe of my in progress afterlife fic, or if it’s just a one-shot with a similar premise. I could 100% fit it in, and I think I might want to? But I’m still thinking about it

This is a really roundabout fic, and has way too much dialogue in some places, but that’s just how I write now, apparently? I did my best. I know that the style changes in a few places, and that’s not in purpose, but it’s not too jarring (I hope) so just give it a chance?

Endgame: DrPepperony, contains endgame spoilers, duh. AO3 link to come.

———————

Stephen going to Pepper and apologizing for the timeline.

Pepper forgiving Stephen and inviting him to have some coffee. “Or tea? Yeah, you seem like a tea guy.”

Morgan wants to know why his cape is like Thor’s.

Stephen tells her it’s because Thor copied him.

Morgan accepts this without question and then calls her uncle Bruce to tell him Thor is a copy-cat.

Bruce doesn’t tell Thor.

Pepper gives Stephen a standing invitation to stop by, because she’s intimately familiar with how quickly Tony can get under people’s skin and burrow into their hearts.

She doesn’t know the half of it.

Stephen stops by once a month or so, and Morgan gets used to the sight of him.

So does Pepper.

She likes it when Stephen comes by and they have a chance to talk.

So does Stephen.

“Doctor Strange, why can’t you use your magic to bring back my dad?”

The question isn’t accusing, she seems to understand that the answer must be a negative, she just wants to know why.

“Because bringing back people from the dead is a very dangerous kind of magic, and if I did it, he might not come back the same Dad you knew.”

She nods, considering this.

“So you can, but he’d just be bad.”

“Yes.”

She nods again and hugs him around the legs.

“If he wouldn’t be bad, would you do it?”

He answers too quickly.

“Yes.”

Morgan stays clinging to him for a minute before she’s satisfied with the answer and Stephen.

“Mom says you can stay for dinner. I helped mix the salad.”

Stephen smiles.

🖥

It’s not until Morgan is nearly 15 that they find the AI.

Turning him on is an accident. If they’d known they would’ve left it alone. Great timing for Tony to forget to label an AI

AI Tony doesn’t remember Morgan, or marriage, or a farm. He’s stuck so far in the past he’s almost unrecognizable.

Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy spend a lot of time talking to this version of Tony, Pre-Ultron, and they find that the more they tell him about the present the less and less he responds.

Eventually Rhodey makes the executive decision to get Friday involved.

She is understandably unsure of her own abilities, but she does her best to bring AI Tony around.

After three weeks of near constant interface, Friday and Tony emerge in their holograms, and Tony still looks down, as much as any AI can be down, but he wants to interact with Morgan.

There’s not much footage of Tony interacting with Morgan, just lots of pictures. Pepper is the one who tells him about his relationship with Morgan, so he can talk to her.

They talk for an hour, and Morgan cries into the shoulder of the Iron Man armour Tony is controlling, and AI Tony is just trying to reconcile himself with a child.

They don’t talk much after that.

Tony is less like a ghost and more like a shell.

Morgan is less like a person and more like a figment.

It makes Pepper and Rhodey both sad to see it.

Eventually, they ask Tony if he wants to go offline.

Tony says yes.

They shut him down and pack him up in a box labeled “Tony.” No one touches it for forty years.

🖥

Morgan is 55 when she’s going through her mother’s personal effects. She finds the box labelled “Tony” and opens it up, curious.

She recognizes the programming that contains an AI immediately. She knows it’s her father’s digital replica.

She puts it back in the box.

Three days later she takes the box back out again. All she has left of her father is a 50 year old hologram, every design he’d ever made, and this AI.

She turns it on.

It doesn’t recognize her, and she didn’t expect it to.

“Hey! Where’s Rhodey? Pepper? I thought we agred I was going offline.”

“Change of plans. Try the house on for size.”

“Are you making me a butler?” Tony souds entirely offended, and Morgan smiles.

“No. You’d be terrible at it.”

“I really would. So what’s the about... whoever you are?”

“I just think it’s time you got to stretch your legs, that’s all.”

“Technically speaking, I don’t have legs. I’m a string of binary code.”

“Don’t get smart with me or I’ll make you share a charging station with Dum-e.”

“He’s still around?” He asked, looking aroud him, and Morgan smiled.

“Interface with the house and find out.”

It was the only permission AI Tony needed, and suddenly things were turning on and off at random, and there were dozen things happening all around the old farm house where she grew up.

“Hey, wait a minute!”

She leaves before he can tell her what he’s indignant about. She shuts down the internet access just in case.

🖥

“It’d take a genius to figure this out. Not that you’re not a genius, Morgan, but you’re in bio-tech, and this is... not that.”

Morgan looks at Harley quizically. “Are you saying you can’t figure it out?”

“Of course I can figure it out, but it’s going to take time we don’t have.”

“What if I said I had someone who might be able to help us.”

“And you’ve been sitting on them this entire time!?”

“It’s... complicated.”

🖥

“You aren’t a little scamp any more. Hell, I think you might be older than I am. Which means I’m really old. Shit.” Tony says to Harley as he sorts through the data they’ve given him access to.

“This will never work, an AI doesn’t have the same creative capabilities as a-“

“Got it!” Tony said, displaying a hologram that... actually looked like it could work.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Morgan smiled. “Great work Tony.”

“Sure thing.”

Harely looks at Morgan quizzically.

Morgan doesn’t look back.

🖥

“And who are you?”

“My name’s Elizabeth. I’m ten. You’re dead.”

“Smart one. Yeah, I heard. Say, Elizabeth, shouldn’t you be monitored by someone with... I don’t know, a body?”

“No. Mom said that I’m old enough to go wherever I want in the compound so long as I don’t do anything that might get me hurt.”

“Like walk into an active training room?”

“Basically.”

“Fair. Alright, well, your mom...”

“Morgan,”

“Morgan-” He said it and suddenly things made sense. “Morgan Stark.”

“Yup, and I’m Elizabeth Stark. You’re Tony Stark. That’s Harley. Hi, Harely. I’m not supposed to be here so don’t tell Mom, okay? Thanks.”

“Elizabeth, come on. Morgan wouldn’t want you to be hanging around in here.”

“He’s right. I’m a bad influence.”

“Shut up, Tony.”

“Watch your language, sir, there’s a lady present!”

Morgan laughed. “You sound like Mr. Rogers.”

“He’s still around???”

“Barely.” Harley mumbled under his breath. “Doesn’t keep him from trying to act like he’s still in charge of everything.”

“Mr. Rogers is bossy. Mom and Harley hate it. Peter says it’s fine. I think he just says that to be nice thought.”

“Sounds like it. Who’s Peter?”

“Oh, he’s Spider Man. You used to know him.” She squints at him, like she’s wary now that he’s not remembering all the parts of the past that he should. “Before you did the snap, you knew him. You gave him his first good spider suit. And then took it away. And then gave it back.”

“Sounds like me. You gonna take her back to her mom?” Tony asked Harley, and Elizabeth whined.

“No..! Come on, Uncle Harley, please??”

“Don’t Uncle Harley at me, you know that stopped working years ago. Come on, we’re doing lunch, and you’ll want to be out of here before Morgan gets an alert.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Harley,” Friday’s voice says apologetically, and Harley sighs.

“Figures. See you around, Tony. We’ve got some stuff to talk to you about later.”

“Yeah, sure thing! It’s not like I’m being held prisoner in my own lab!” AI Tony calls after Elizabeth and Harley.

“You’re not a prisoner, boss. Just on house arrest.”

“How can you call me boss and be the holder of the keys to my cell?”

“Not a prison.”

“Feels like a prison.”

“When given free reign of the house the first time you were brought online, you broke eight different electrical appliance. For the safety of the inhabitants, you’ll have to stay here.”

“We’re not worried about me breaking the lab? I could do some real damage here.”

“But would you?”

“...No.” Tony sighed, as much as any AI can sigh.

🖥

“What’s with the secret keeping Morgan? I feel like a piece of dirty laundry.”

“Captain Rogers would have a lot to say about an AI of you. I don’t want to listen to any of it.”

“So he’s Captain, now? Lizzie called him Mr. Rogers. Like from the tv show you’re too young to remember and I never actually watched.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard plenty about it over the years.” Morgan laughed, working across from her father’s hologram, but never looking at it. “But that’s just how Lizzie is. Everyone else she just calls by their first names, but Steve started putting a fuss up about it, so she started calling him Mr. Rogers instead.” She smirks to herself. “He’s gotten fussy in his old age.”

“Fussier. He was always fussy. He just wore a righteous look and an American Ass and everyone called him a patriot.”

“Well, two out of three of those things are still true.”

“No! He lost the ass?”

“He’s over 150 years old, Tony.”

“He’s a super soldier. He’s not supposed to loose the ass.”

“You’re kind of obsessed with Captain America’s ass.”

“I used to make his suits.”

Morgan laughs and it hits AI Tony in a very real way that he is talking to his daughter. He made his daughter laugh.

💻

“Tony! Mom gave me permission to visit.”

“How’d you weasel that out of her?” Tony asked, turning his hologram away from the manipulation station, despite his mind still definately being on it. It’s great to be an AI.

“I promised to clean my entire room.”

“Oh wow. That’s a hefty promise.”

“I’m not really going to do the entire room. She ever checks under the bed.” She rolls her eyes, and Tony raises an eyebrow at Friday’s security camera.

“I’m thinking she might this time around.”

She rolled her eyes in a way that was so familiar Tony was caught off gaurd for a minute.

“Tony. Hey! Tony!” She waved her hand in front of his face and he snapped his processing power back to attention.

“Hey is for horses, young lady.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes again, and AI Tony felt fond.

He felt.

“Tony! Why do you keep ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you, Lizzie. I’m thinking deeply.”

“But you’re a computer. You have enough processing power to focus on other things and think deeply.”

“You’re right, but I’m running a little slow in my old age.”

She wrinkled her nose at him, “you don’t look that old.”

“Holograms don’t age. I’m a lot older than I look.”

She frowns. “Does that make you sad?”

Tony is about to say no, because he is an AI and incapable of feeling anything, let alone sadness, it’s all just predetermined choices and algorithms except... “yeah, it does.”

She patted the console that was closest to her like she might pat a sad cat. “I’m sorry you can’t get old like everyone else, Tony.”

“Me too.”

🖥

There’s a commotion happening that Tony can pick up even though he only has access to the mics in the lab. There’s some yelling, some smashing, and then there’s a bunch of sparks forming a portal into his lab and a weirdly dressed man with shaking hands and grey streaks in his hair is standing in his lab. Staring at him.

“Can I help you?” Tony asked, reaching out to Friday to activate security protocols and start shutting down anything and everything even remotely vulnerable in the compound.

“I think maybe I can help you, Tony.” The man says, and Tony cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Um, no offense, but I’m actually a computer. An AI. I’m not being held captive or whatever weird conspiracy theory has been floating around the internet. The real Tony Stark is dead. I’m just a copy.”

The man shakes his head and Tony keeps pushing Friday to tell her what’s going on, but he’s been bugging her so much lately that she’s ignoring him. Great.

“You’re not just a copy. You’re a part of his soul.”

“What?” Tony asked, staring at him like he was off his rocker (he was.)

“I second that.” Morgan said, glaring at the newcomer from the doorway.

“Morgan, I made you a promise years ago, that if I could bring him back-“

“He’s been dead for fifty years, Strange. Even if you could bring him back, what good would it do, aside from easing your guilt?” Her eyes are hard and Tony can tell this must be a touchy subject for her. That’s why he feels it pertinent to interject.

“Is that why I’m having feelings? Because AIs don’t usually have feelings.”

Stephen gestured at Tony like an argument had just been won and Morgan glared.

“You’re not touching him.”

“There’s a piece of his soul trapped here, Morgan.”

“He’s a computer!”

“Mom,” Elizabeth murmurs from the doorway. “Ama said she wants to talk to you.”

Morgan’s face falls into her hands and she digs the tips of her fingers into her scalp.

“Mom?”

“I’m coming, honey.” Morgan told her daughter, still frozen and clutching her head. “Tell Ama I’ll be there in a minute.”

Elizabeth left and then it was just the three of them.

Stephen was the first to break the silence. “If you leave him here, there’s always going to be a piece of his soul haunting you.”

“He’s fine right there.”

“He’s not. The longer he stays the more disconnected this piece of his soul becomes from the rest. With enough time it could break off entirely, and the chaos that comes with splitting a soul...” strange sighed. “If you’re not willing to let me try summoning the rest, at least let me send this piece back.”

“I can’t lose him.”

“I’ve been gone for a long time, honey.” Tony spoke up from where his hologram was trapped in a console. “Keeping me here isn’t really helping you anymore. It’s time to let go.”

“You’re a computer!”

“He’s a computer with a piece of your father’s soul, Morgan. It’s understandable that you’re attached, but the longer you leave him here, the more likely his soul will split. It could wrench Tony out of whatever afterlife he’s living and make him miserable for the rest of eternity.”

“Morgan.” Tony said, when Morgan still wouldn’t look up at them. “I don’t know who this guy is, but I think I might agree with him.”

“Stop it.” She said, nearly too quiet for his mics to pick up. “Stop it. Shut up. He’s.. he’s fine. It’s fine. There’s not.. it’s just an AI.”

“An AI with feelings and the capacity to be creative. You have to know that’s not normal.”

Morgan is silent for a few more minutes before shaking her head and straightening her back. “Do whatever you have to.” She tells him, and both Stephen and Tony are struck by how much she looks like Pepper in that moment. She walks away with her head held high and doesn’t even look back to say goodbye.

It hurts.

🖥

On the Astral Plane, Stephen guides Tony’s soul through the process of rejoining it’s larger half, and Tony finds it hard to believe that he, a network of processing power, can project an astral form.

“Do you see how much more translucent you are than I am? It’s because you’re only a fragment. Tony put his soul into designing this AI just in case, and you were so similar to him that his soul might not have recognized his death.”

“Ghost soul. Cool. I actually haven’t heard weirder things, which is odd, but a pleasant surprise. When do I get dead?”

“I have an incantation I can try, but it might hurt.”

“Just do it.”

🖥

“Look who’s back.”

Tony opened his eyes to see the roof of the porch of his dream house with Pepper. He sat up and was greeted with Pepper drinking an ice tea and smiled at him. Pepper, who looked as young as she had been when they’d gotten married. He knew objectively that she’d gotten older, but he hadn’t been online for her death. It was like jumping back in time to before he was an Artificial Intelligence. “You were gone for a while. Glad to have you back.”

“I put a part of my soul in the AI.”

“Yeah,” She nodded, handing him an untouched and perfectly cool glass of tea from the tray beside her. He took it without hesitation, shocked to feel the condensation, the smooth glass, the hard edge of the bottom of it. “I mean, I didn’t know that was where it was, but I knew that some part of you was still trapped there. You had that way of looking off into space sometimes, I think that was when you were over there.” She took another sip of her tea and Tony mimicked her, tasting something for what felt like the first time in fifty years. Probably because it was.

“Was I here before?” He asked, and Pepper nodded.

“You were here when I got here. Waiting for me like we were still newlyweds. Even carried me over the threshold.” She smiled, reaching out and stroking her hand down his cheek. Tony closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Figured the least I could do was be waiting for you with some sweet tea.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He reached for her free hand and dragged her closer to him, needing to feel her solidly against him to prove to himself that it wasn’t just a dream.

“You became a great man. That makes you deserving of just about anything you want.” She followed where he pulled her, settling into his lap and wrapping her arms around his waist. “And now we just have to wait for our baby.”

“Oh god, don’t say that. I don’t want her to be here.”

“And I do?” She laughed, pulling a strand of his hair back into place. “But we all come here. She’ll come and visit us, sometime. It’ll be nice, I promise.”

“I think she hated me, at the end.”

Pepper frowned and ran her thumb over his eyebrow, calling his attention to her. “I know our daughter, Tony. Morgan may have been frustrated, you’re a frustrating man,” she laughed and kissed his forehead, pulling him into a hug. “But she loved you with her whole heart, and nothing could have changed that.”

“I hope you’re right.”

🖥

“Huh,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow at a newly deceased Doctor Strange. He and Pepper were the only ones left in their little afterlife, everyone else having reincarnated long ago and moved on to other after lives. But not them. “I told Pepper we were waiting for someone. Pep! We have a guest.”

“What?” She asked, coming out from the house, a smudge of paint on her right cheek. “Tony who-? Oh! Doctor Strange!”

“I told you we were waiting for someone. Didn’t I tell you?”

“You did, and it’s just as insufferable to hear you say it now as it was a millenium ago.” She leaned down to kiss Tony on the cheek and then looked back up at Stephen. “Won’t you come inside? If I’d known you were coming I would have had something ready for you, but Tony and I stopped bothering with food centuries ago.”

“That’s not entirely true. I still soul magic up a cheese burger every now and then.”

Pepper rolled her eyes and smiled at Stephen’s flabbergasted look. “You don’t have to just stand there, Stephen.”

“Yeah, Strange. Come sit down, take a load off. I’ll keep you company while Pepper does food.” He said, looking at Pepper for approval. She waved him off.

“He’s actually not as useless in the kitchen as he used to be, but it’s been so long since he’s done anything but cheese burgers he might have forgotten.”

Stephen felt like he was watching some kind of television show, an outsider looking into the afterlives of two souls who were obviously extremely close. What was he doing here?

“Honey, I think we broke him. Strange, you with us pal?” Tony got up from his chair, setting aside the bits and bobs he’d been tinkering with for the last 100 years or so. He came down the stairs slowly, hands outstretched to Stephen. “Stephen? Hey, did you leave a piece of your soul back on earth too?” He laughed, trying to break the tension.

“I don’t understand why I’m here.” He said finally, shrugging off Tony’s hand where it touched his forearm. Only then did he realize that his hands weren’t shaking. The scars were still there, but his hands were as steady as they ever were. When he looked back up at Tony his right arm was also heavily scarred, but his face was unmarred. He looked back down at his hands and Tony caught the drift.

“It’s pretty easy to hide scars here, if that’s something you want. I can show you. Pepper’s skin is flawless, but I’ve got a few doosies that I’ve gotten pretty good at hiding. I mean, I know scars give a man character, but not the expense of this face.” He ran his scarred hand over his unscarred cheek. “You wanna take a minute? Let’s sit down.”

Stephen followed Tony’s lead to the porch and sat down to listen to Pepper and Tony recount their experiences in the afterlife.

🖥

Souls don’t really sleep, so when Stephen opens his eyes it’s not because he’d really been sleeping. If he tried hard enough, meditation was nearly sleeping, but there was no astral form to project into while he was “sleeping.”

There was no need. The fate of the universe belonged to someone else now. As much as he hated giving the duty up, Tony and Pepper were right about him deserving a retirement.

Pepper was the first to stir, reading a newly published (on earth) book by the reincarnation of her great grand daughter. “Such talent. Honestly. I wish we had done more of the liberal arts, Tony.” She passed the tablet to Tony, who touched it and knew the entire contents of the book. Pepper still preferred the act of reading, while Tony preferred to cut to the chase.

“I hate the liberal arts, but it is a good book. Strange.” He passed the tablet and Stephen handed it back to Pepper after learning the book’s title.

“I’ll read through it later.” He laced his fingers through Tony’s and let himself play with Pepper’s soft hair. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

There was a long pause and Stephen looked up at Tony and Pepper. They were having a silent conversation, and Stephen felt something like dread settle in his stomach.

“Pepper and I have been thinking.” Tony started before handing the reigns over to Pepper.

She rolled her eyes at Tony and then turned on her side to face Stephen completely, Tony leaning up on his elbow to give himself a better view of them. “We want to reincarnate, Stephen.” She said softly, laying one hand over his cheek. “We love being here with you. We do.” She reiterated when he looked like he was about to protest. “But everyone else we all know is long gone, back to the land of the living. We aren’t talking about any time soon, we want some more time with you here, but... We do want to go back, and we want you to come with us.”

“I can’t imagine living another life without you, Strange. What do you say?” Tony’s hand settled on Pepper’s hip, but his eyes were pleading at Stephen. “Come with us?”

Stephen looked between the two of them, momentarily lost for words before he finally said, “I don’t know how I could say no to that.”

“Ideally, you don’t.” Tony smiled, leaning across Pepper to plant a kiss on Stephen’s cheek just above where Pepper’s hand rested. “And since this is the afterlife, everything’s pretty ideal.”

Pepper elbowed Tony to get him to get off of her and leand in to give Stephen a kiss of her own, just a soft peck on unchapped lips. “I can’t wait to live a life with you, Stephen Strange.”

“Ditto.” Tony said from where he’d collapsed back onto the bed.

“I love you both.” Stephen smiled and Pepper smiled back.

“Ditto.”

#endgame spoilers #tony stark #stephen strange #pepper potts #endgame: drpepperony #drpepperony

[jhsbrat]

stories that never were pt. 4

beautiful mane, i’m the lion. 

beautiful man, i know you’re lying. 

genre: stories that never were pt. 4

word count: 2,966

warnings: some fluff, mostly angst

Day 117

“Babe,” you giggle, holding on desperately to the bars of the roundabout, hair whipping around you as the world spins. “I’m gonna puke!”

Hoseok laughs but doesn’t stop, his breath coming out in quick pants as he pushes the playground contraption faster. Cheeks ruddy from exertion, his eyes nevertheless follow your movements as your hand slips from the bar and you allow yourself to lay back flat on the twirling disk. He waits for an opening and then slides onto it as well, settling himself against your side. You turn your head to look at his face, his dark hair falling against his brow and chest still heaving up and down.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’d have to say the same.”

The two of you smile at each other dopily, the rotating movement of the roundabout making you a little dizzy.

“When you offered to go on a midnight walk with me, I didn’t think this is what you meant.” You sigh and burrow a little closer into his chest.

He chuckles and you feel the reverberation, the pound of his heart.

“Well, I wanted to show you my favorite place in the city to look at the stars,” he strokes a hand against your hair, down your back, tickling the dip before your jeans where light fuzz grows. “There’s just something really cool about looking up at the night sky while slowly spinning. It’s peaceful, you know?”

You move away from the warmth of his chest and turn your gaze upwards instead, eyes moving around the constellations watching you. “Yeah, it is a good view.”

Hoseok takes that moment to look back at you, drawing the hair back from your face to see you better. “A great view,” he says softly.

Day 244

You watch Hoseok execute another spin, then pause to look at himself in the mirror.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, going back to his starting position.

You sigh and go up to him, hooking your chin on his shoulder. Beads of sweat roll down his neck. Parts of his white shirt have gone translucent with perspiration. You catch his gaze in the mirror, the reflection of your two bodies staring back at you.

“C’mon, you need a break. Let’s take a drive into the city. The monuments are beautiful at night.” You tease, nipping at his nape. The moisture there slips onto your tongue, but it’s been a long time since the taste of his sweat made you curl back in distaste.  

He smiles softly, but shrugs you off. “I just really want to get this down. The showcase is coming up soon. You can go home, I’ll meet you there later.”

Moving slowly, you walk around the dance studio to pick up your belongings before heading towards the door. Stopping at the entrance, you turn around to watch him one more time. He’s twisting in front of the mirror, moves sharp, eyes precisely following the movement of his limbs.

You leave.

Day 43

“Face it, you’re shit at beer pong!”

“Well, I’m sorry I spent most of my college career actually studying for class instead of partaking in Neanderthal drinking games.” You say as you walk up the steps to your townhouse, sliding the wristband with your key tied onto it off your arm.

Hoseok trips up the steps to your side. His cheeks had slowly gone red over the course of the night. It was true that during his four years at university, most of his Saturday nights were lazed away at random house parties, perfecting his free throw from the end of a ping-pong table. But your weekends post-graduation were consumed of getting absolutely hammered, courtesy of creepy guys at downtown bars and bad decisions. It had afforded you, at the very least, with a way better tolerance level than the man beside you.

“I think I’m going to hurl,” he mutters, hands stuffed in his pockets.    

You roll your eyes, but self-righteous isn’t a good look on you when you’re struggling to fit your key through the lock. Hoseok giggles and comes closer, trying to help, but it just results in your keys clanging to the floor instead. Both of you dive for them at the same time, butting your heads into each other.

You groan and slide to the floor of your stoop in defeat. “I’ll just sleep out here, no worries.”

“I may be stupid, but I’m not drunk and I’m not leaving you out here alone,” Hoseok clambers down to join you, then stares off into the distance. “Wait-“

You snicker and nuzzle your head into his shoulder. “That was cute.”

Hoseok grins, looking down at your face. “Wow, was that you expressing an emotion?”

You wrinkle your nose and straighten up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re kinda like a closed book, you know. I never really know what’s going on in there.” He taps the side of your temple and smirks, then flops down to spread out his limbs on your doorstep.

You blink, looking out into the empty street. “Did you want me to relay my every thought to you or something?”

He chuckles and you can hear how the sound travels up his chest, through his diaphragm, low and hearty. “No, not exactly. Just a little more vulnerability would be appreciated.”

“You’re awfully coherent for a drunk guy, aren’t you.”

He flips onto his side, long legs splayed out down the steps. “Drunk words are sober thoughts. Besides, you’re just trying to change the subject right now.”

You clench your jaw. “Fuck you, here’s me being vulnerable: Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Hoseok looks up with a snap of his neck, mouth open like the breath had just been punched out of him. You stare back, determined not to regret your words. Intent on not letting out a laugh and excusing them by your drunkenness, the alcohol pounding your heart. There’s no way you’re taking them back now, no matter how much you want to, and you’ll just have to live with the consequences when he says-

“I thought you’d never ask.”  

Day 278

“You’re so bright. You’re like the sun.”

Hoseok grins at you quickly before looking back at the road, hands maneuvering the steering wheel in smooth motions. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug and lean your head against the car window, eyes watching the city whizz by you. The lights blend together and you blink, slow and hazy in your fog of tequila. He takes one hand off the wheel and drops it onto your knee, tickling the skin there softly.

“C’mon, tell me.” He’s coaxing, effortless.      

You roll your head over to face him again and take in his profile. The sharp jut of his nose and the curl of his dark hair against his forehead, it fills you with want deep in your gut.

“You draw people to you. It’s so effortless. You just give parts of yourself to every person you meet, so openly, like it’s easy. It makes people feel like they’re special and they come back for more.” You say it slowly, like you’re still thinking of the words before they tumble out of your mouth.

His hand squeezes and draws slowly up your thigh, cavalierly pushing up the skirt covering your skin. “You say that like it’s a bad thing to be liked.”

You’re still looking at him when you speak next, folding your knees up to hug them against your chest, knocking his hand aside. “I feel like there’s nothing left for me.”

Day 455

“Jimin, where’s my vanilla milkshake?” You look down at the table, an array of burgers and fries arranged on top of it.

The pink haired boy scoots over in the booth to make room for you. “Didn’t get it. You know you’re lactose intolerant and I won’t have you farting up a storm in my car on the way home just to satisfy your sugar obsession.”

You pout and plop down in the seat next to him. “Thanks, dad. Where’s Hoseok?”

“Right here,” your boyfriend jogs up to join you, sliding into the opposite booth seat. “Sorry, I was finding parking.” He leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Jimin cocks a brow. “There was tons in the back when I got here.”

“I guess it filled up fast,” Hoseok shrugs.

You hum noncommittally and push over his plate. “Here, this one has no onions. I’ll give you my fries if you split your milkshake with me, Jimin refused to get me one-”

“Probably for good reason,” a soft voice lilts from beside you. “Swimsuit season is coming up, you know.”

An artificial rose scent cloys your senses and you scrunch your nose, looking up to see a girl standing next to you.  

“Hello, Satan. Nice outfit,” Jimin chirps, glancing down at the other girl’s skirt that barely grazed the tops of her thighs. “Aren’t you a little chilly without the heat of hell fire surrounding you?”

“Jimin,” Suji grinned, twirling a lock of her dark hair around her finger. “Why, are you offering to keep me warm?”

Jimin just snorted and returned to eating his fries. The other girl turned her gaze to your boyfriend.

“Hi Hoseok. Great workshop yesterday, I think I’ll sign up for another.”

“Thanks, Suji. That’s good to hear, hope I’ll see you soon.” He smiled politely at her. She shot you and Jimin another glance before waving goodbye, sashaying out of the restaurant.

You watch her walk out and other diners do too, heads turning to follow her figure. Then you shift to face your boyfriend.

“She was at your studio yesterday?”

Hoseok coughed and took a sip of his Coke. “Uh, yeah, she’s actually pretty good. We did a hip hop lesson and-“

The rest of his sentence is drowned out by the thoughts in your head, the way the other girl looked at him replaying in your mind.  

Day 12

“Then you would just multiply prior probability by posterior probability and divide by the normalizing constant. And that’s how you would use the Bayes rule to determine the likelihood of an event based on prior knowledge of the event conditions.” You look up proudly from the equations you drew in the salt on the table.

Hoseok blinks, eyes sliding back into focus. “Uh. So. That’s what you do at work?”

You falter a bit and start wiping away the salt back into the shaker, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, I know it’s boring-“

“No, no!” Hoseok rushes to say, grabbing your hands to stop you. “I never said that, it’s just…nothing like what I do at work, you know? I talk all day for a living, nothing hard about it.”

You nod slowly. “I don’t think it’s difficult, it’s just math, right? Plugging in numbers and all.” The diner’s neon sign flickers on in that moment, casting both of you in its red light.

Hoseok snorts and twirls his finger through the pile of salt, drawing stick figures. “Yeah, to you. I still add things using my hands.”

You lips stretch, watching him erase the figure he had and start creating a flower instead. “Well, I could never do what you do. Talking to people all day exhausts me and I’m just not charming enough to be a real estate agent.”

He looks up then, pausing in his ministrations. “I think you’re plenty charming.”

Day 573

You’re too fuzzy to think coherently, too much noise and alcohol sloshing around in your head to draw out thoughts. So you speak them instead.

“He was drunk, Jimin,” you plead, more with yourself than the boy in front of you. “So am I, right? It doesn’t- it never-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” your friend warns, jaw clenched. “It’s bullshit, an excuse, and you know it.”

Your lip trembles and brows draw together to furrow a little cavern in the center of your forehead. Hoseok always called it cute and it was why he could never take you seriously when you cried, preferring to coo and pinch your cheeks in adoration instead. Jimin didn’t share that feeling.

“It’s not, it’s the truth,” you hiccup, a rancid taste in your mouth. Tears are already threatening to spill over and down your cheeks, but you continue rambling. “It doesn’t matter when you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing-“

“Honey,” the boy’s eyes have finally softened and that’s what finally breaks the dam for you. His arms circle around your body as you sob, gently petting away your hair so he can murmur in your ear.

“In my experience, what really defines someone is what they won’t do.”  

Day 1

“Jimin, I swear to god, I’m leaving in five minutes and your punk ass better be in the car with me or else you’re finding your own way home tonight.”

The boy in question blows out a breath of smoke, then pouts. His sunglasses have slid down his nose to reveal his eyes, strained red in the haze of the party. He throws an arm around his friend, stretching a bit to compensate for their height difference.

“C’mon, Hoseok, don’t be like that. The fun is just getting started. Here, you want a hit?” The pink haired boy offers up his tightly rolled blunt, but Hoseok just grimaces and shakes his friend off instead.

“Nah, what I want is to be snuggled up in my covers in approximately 15 minutes, with or without you.”

“Oooh, is that an invitation, Hobi?” Jimin grins lecherously at him. Hoseok just fixes him with a stare.

“Five minutes. I’ll see you outside.”

Hoseok turns and leaves his friend in the living room of the stranger’s house they were in, trudging down the stairs and back out into the crisp cold of the front lawn. He looks at his watch to check the time and sighs, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket to make his wait go by quicker. Then he hears a sniffle to his side.

Turning his head a little to the left, he sees you sitting on the curb at the end of the block, alone. Knees drawn up to your chest, arms and legs bare from the dress you had on. You were crying.

His eyes snap back to his hands in front of him. Determined to mind his own business and do his time until Jimin comes back out, he fits his cigarette between his lips and pulls the lighter up. He takes a deep inhale and closes his eyes. You sniffle again.  

Letting out a breath, smoke coiling out from his mouth, he holds the cigarette between his index and middle finger by his side and chews on the inside of his cheek. Another sniffle and he squeezes his eyes shut. Then he turns to face you again, words coming out in a tumble.

“Hey. What are you doing? It’s freezing and you’re basically naked.”

You startle and pick your head up from its resting place on your knees, twisting your neck to look over at him. The mascara around your eyes has smudged and the tip of your nose has gone pink. Your skin is furrowed between your brows and it’s almost endearing.

“What’s it to you?” You snap back.

Almost.

Hoseok’s brows shoot up. “Listen, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to die of hypothermia while I was here standing witness. Feel free to go back to doing so once I’ve finished this cigarette.”

You stare at him for a moment, then: “Can I have one?”

Hoseok blows out another breath of smoke, then chuckles, making his way over to you. “You’re lucky I feel bad for you.”

You ignore him in favor of picking up the cigarette and lighter he held out in his hand. Holding it in your fingers for a moment, you just stare at it before bringing it up to your lips.

“Other way,” he says, tapping the end with the filter. “Unless you enjoy smoking straight tobacco.”

You flip it around and then try lighting it. Hoseok reaches over to cup his hand around the lighter, trying to prevent the wind from interfering. You inhale deep and cough out the smoke hard, drawing an arm up to cover your mouth. He watches you in mild interest.

“If you’d never done this before, why’d you want to try now?”

You release a shaky breath and try again, taking a shorter inhale in this time before immediately blowing out the smoke again. Then you shrug. “Dunno. Seemed better than just sitting here and having you watch me in pity. Something to do, I guess.”  

The end of Hoseok’s lip quirks up. “Why were you crying?”

Bringing the cigarette back up to your mouth to suck in, your eyes cross to watch the end of it burn. You wait a second, trying to inhale the smoke deep before coughing it out again. Then you turn to look at him, eyes tearing up from the burn in your chest.

“You don’t care.”

“I cared enough to come over here, didn’t I?” He shoots back.  

You snort, then stub out the rest of the cigarette on the asphalt. He refrains from telling you it was a waste of his Marlboro.

“What’s your name?” You turn to look at him properly now, cradling your face in your hand. Your cheeks have started to go rosy now too. He wants to offer you his jacket, but something tells him you’d just ask him to fuck off.

He tells you and finishes his own cigarette, flicking its remains out into the street. You repeat it softly to yourself. “That’s a handsome name.”

He chuckles. “Won’t you tell me yours?”

You smile.  

e/n: come tell me your thoughts!!

#bts #bts fanfiction #hoseok fanfiction #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok scenario #bts imagine #hoseok imagine #hoseok/reader #hoseok x reader #bts angst #hoseok angst #stories that never were

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Crackverse 10: How Harry Met Sa... Part 1

This is a trip down the memory lane. Pretty much the ‘how the hell did they get together?’ and a part of ‘why are there that many Smurfs references in this whole fic?’. Sadly, there are no ugly-ass sweaters this time. The second part will include ‘there was only one bed *gasp*’.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3Part 4 Part 5Part 6 Part 7 Xmas New Year Part 8 Soulmate AU Part 9 

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love.

To say that Gabriel was utterly unimpressed with Jack Morrison upon their first meeting was an understatement. The man was big, blonde, blue-eyed, had well-pronounced cheekbones and a chin you could cut yourself on, and in general appeared as if he just walked out of White Power rally, or maybe even worse, stepped out of Wehrmacht propaganda where he had been used as an example of a perfect Aryan. His carefree cockiness also radiated the textbook case of jock, whose idea of a fun night out was cow tipping. And then, the blonde wasn’t even his type, he preferred them a bit shorter and quieter.

However, not unlike the Autobots, there was much more going under that hood than met the eye.

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd.

*

One of the first qualities that could be observed about Jack Morrison was his apparent death wish. No matter the circumstances, be it sparring, training, or war games, the man was like a rabid wolverine. Literally. Or a rabid honey badger because ratels were scary as shit on their own, but add to that rabies…

Which was many roundabout words to describe the fact that the blonde would take on someone twice his size without looking back, might die fighting his opponent, but, sure as hell, he was taking said opponent down with him. And then he would seemingly resurrect like in those documentaries, all with that demented toothy smile of his plastered on his bloodied lips. And Gabriel was not beyond appreciating that kind of dedication (or craziness).

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd who not only watched old cartoons – he relaxed with Animal Planet on.

*

Another characteristic of Jack Morrison was not letting any kind of bullshit fly by him, which more often than not ended with a brawl.

“That fucking filthy chink,” Beckson muttered one day in the gym, loud enough for everyone to hear. Jack only smiled that deranged smile of his and put the water bottle down on the bench. Then he almost flew at the man.

Later, with tissue paper stuffed up his nose, still smiling, Jack shrugged at Gabriel’s question of what the fuck was wrong with him.

“I’m not fucking going to let the motherfucker insult my siblings, am I?”

Somehow, Gabriel thought the grin accompanying the blonde’s answer was, in fact, a teeny bit attractive. He pegged it as cabin fever.

*

All of the above made Jack Morrison tolerable, but not someone you would spend your time with or talk to. Until the Smurfs Incident.

“What the fuck are you watching? Are those fucking Smurfs?” Gabriel sighed, exasperated, ready to either tell Jack to kindly fuck off or to make up some lame excuse. “Wow, and that’s the shitty racist episode. You know they were fucking black in the original version?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel grunted when Jack wriggled himself onto the bunk to sit by his side and elbowed him to move the screen so he could watch too. “How do you even know that?”

“Hyung was fucking obsessed with this shit, had to dress up for fucking Halloween, twice as Gargamel and once as fucking Smurfette.” Gabriel snorted trying to imagine Jack in a white skirt. “What? I think I made a fucking fine Smurfette!”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“I’ll get Ma to send me some. Ha, get them, Azrael!”

It got the ball rolling. In the end, they were both kind of nerdy, although each in his own way.

*

Thing was, Ma and Pa Morrison were the God-fearing sort, Catholics, and firmly believed in procreation and populating the God-given Earth, so Jack was the middle child out of ten total, with four sisters and five brothers – all nine of them adopted.

Gabriel didn’t even try to remember the names the blonde gleefully rattled off showing him the pictures, especially since few of them sounded like something nigh unpronounceable. And yes, he had to concede Jack made a damn fine Smurfette, especially considering he had shaved his legs for the occasion. Though, a definitely manly Smurfette.

“Oh my fucking god, that fucking itched like shit regrowing, should have gone with fucking stockings,” the blonde groaned when Gabriel just tapped his finger on the aforementioned photographic evidence. “It got me five beers and a fucking date, on a positive note. And a shit-ton of sweets to divide later.”

“Dated a cheerleader?” Gabriel swiped to another photo where the blonde posed with a trophy. Jack, for a brief moment, looked maybe a bit angry, but then just shrugged.

“Arsehole. Yeah, I did. Went to prom, fucked under the bleachers, almost gave him a shiner week later when he fucking broke up with me because he had said he fucking felt he was obliged to give me a pity fuck before.”

Right. Gabriel knew a thing or two about computers, and it helped the school had no security to speak of. The yearbook had a page titled ‘The Kings of the Prom’.

He was in deep shit now.

*

With the restricted access to the outside world and a very shallow dating pool - not to mention close living quarters that made tempers run short - it was almost inevitable, Gabriel surmised in retrospect, that he had developed a bit of infatuation. The first time it happened, he had been cussing Jack out for keeping his boot-clad feet on the bunk.

“My fucking ass is not moving from the fucking bed,” Jack shot back while turning another page of a worn out book. Gabriel added what he would do to that ass under his breath in Spanish, and froze when he had realized what exactly left his mouth. Thanks to whatever deity that decided to listen, Jack casually looked up at him. “Yeah, fuck you and your little dog too.”

The second time it happened was during sparring when he had finally gotten the upper hand on Jack. The blonde narrowed his eyes, snarled something incomprehensible back, and then used Gabriel’s confusion to twist and elbow him hard just below the ribs.

“Puto!”

“Skurwysyn!”

“Vodka!” Someone called from the benches, laughing.

After that, it became a casual thing with Jack obviously not understanding a word except some most common profanities and answering in kind. Gabriel wasn’t really proud of that, but hey, it helped to relieve some tension.

It all came to a screeching halt two months later when a new supervisor was inducted into the program. The woman, almost unnaturally tall and lanky, with a skin nearly glowing with a shade of violet and raised decorative lines of scars on her forehead, was waiting for them just outside of the showers.

“Mister Morrison.” Jack stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his expression somewhere between pure shock and utter terror. “I get invited to evaluate and supervise the super secret enhancement program and while reviewing the personnel files who do I see enrolled?”

“Achan!” The blonde lost one of his flip-flops when he launched himself at her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Hello, little brother.” Well, Gabriel did comment on that. The little part, not the brother thing. “And here, Ma and Pa are thinking you are doing top secret ranger missions.”

“Oh, fuck, you aren’t going to snitch?”

“And what? Tell them their boy might drop dead any moment because of complex chemicals pumped into his body as opposed to being shred to bits by omnics?”

“Fucking touché,” Jack released her, laughing. “So I won’t fucking snitch you’re not working on your fucking grant, sis.”

“It was enough you weren’t home for Christmas, Jack.” The blonde groaned. “You are coming back for Easter, and, as a gift for the whole family, you can bring your friend.” Achan poked his forehead and Jack tsked, looking back for a second.

“That’s not really fucking good idea, sis. They’re going to start getting fucking ideas.”

Well, Gabriel had some choice words about fucking but seeing Achan’s brows rise made him realize that maybe, maybe, he had made a grave tactical error.

“I’m going to look the other way now,” the new supervisor smirked at Jack as if she were daring him to say ‘hold my beer’. The blonde shuffled on his feet and then turned around rapidly. The punch was solid, but not undeserved, Gabriel admitted to himself from the floor. Jack loomed over him.

“You want to tap that fucking ass, fucking ask.”

Well, it was definitely not his most shining moment. Honestly, it was as far as it got from the most shining moment. It topped even vomiting blood at three-months mark into the program. Gabriel resigned to it and went with the flow.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Sure, why not?” Jack shrugged. “Coming for Easter?”

“Possibly.”

“And call me a butterfly again and you’ll need a proctologist to get that boot outta your arse.”

“I hope this is the last time I’m playing your wingman, little brother.”

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love. The revelation had not been welcome. He urgently hoped it would pass soon. It still didn’t make the rest of the day any less awkward than it was already.

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #what is this even #crack it's crack #proper part #This memory lane trip is pretty much headcanons for crackverse #everybody is permitted to be a young moron #i promise we will get eventually to the 'home movie' #aka 'THE sex tape' #and Widowmaker date #oh yeah #the butterfly thing #since he picked up slang from different people #gabe didn't mean it that way #if you know what i mean #the ugly-ass sweaters will come back #and Hana will indeed be the lesser shark in the see #and yeah #the 'boyfriends' thing will return #tho #this is a slightly tweaked version to what has been posted before #I guess #since the halloween secial been scrapped #there will be still an explanation for other Smurf references

[oh-beyond]

Kyosu-nim’s passion AU - Part 2 (M)

It was time to get the Masters degree in Asian Studies you’ve always wanted…

Xiumin x reader

Professor AU/Angst/Smut

Masterlist

< Part 1

“네, 교수님 ~ Ne, kyosu-nim ~ Yes professor”

He was surprised that you answered confidently.

“내 호버크라프트는 장어로 가득 차 있어요. 그게 내 열정이예요 ~ Nae hobeokeurapeuteuneun changeoro kadeuk cha isseyo. Geuge nae yeoljeongiyeyo ~ Just hearing you breath in my ear sends shivers down my spine. And that’s my passion” you whispered in his ear.

Your turn to paralyse him.

He took 2 steps backwards realising he was playing with fire, not only that... he just felt that he got to close and he did actually feel the burn.

The burn all over his body that ached, he thought he could control it but apparently not. Sweat beads forming on his forehead and his breath got laboured.

“Not so tough now kyosu-nim, it’s clear that you have a quite impressing aura to you, and I’m not going to lie you got to me, perhaps them tactics work for your Korean women. But not here, you need to learn a few lessons yourself in how to approach women. Never too late to learn I guess kyosu-nim.”

He didn’t answer, he didn’t have a comeback, he was doomed, he was ruined. All his world collapsed right there, this was really something he didn’t think it would ever happen to him.

What happened really? You were under his spell, he saw it.

He felt it.

How did you get so strong in less than 2 minutes?

Was it true? Western girls were different? 

Most importantly... why was he so affected?

“If you’ll excuse me kyosu-nim, I really have a big project to prepare, I still need to impress you, and I am waisting my time right now.”

And with that you left him, there, alone, standing. He placed his hands over his hips and he scoffed finally when he was all alone and surrounded by books. He shook his head in disbelief.

He had lost this battle completely and miserably.

But was the war over?

The following days were very different from what your professor used to be around you, he avoided looking at you. Not in a nervous way, it was more like ‘not to play with fire’ kind of way. In reality it wasn’t allowed to get close to professors in that way, you didn’t know how it was in Korea but you dropped it too. Minseok seemed disinterested and almost disgusted by your presence, as if it were you who crossed the line, almost were thankful that he didn’t report you, thinking you went to far?

You questioned your behaviour, you played the scene in your head over and over. Where you wrong? Was it too much? Maybe how he treated you was not what you thought it was? Maybe he was just playing the ‘scary professor’ card?

You mentally scolded yourself for weeks, especially when you went to bed and you found yourself looking at the ceiling in the silence of the night, trying to justify what you did.

‘It’s his fault’ you repeated in your head.

‘But I went too far.’

You couldn’t live, it was killing you and you needed peace of mind to focus on your presentation and your finals...

You had to talk with him.

The following day after the lectures were over, you knew he always stayed an extra hour in his office to sort his work and you knew he would be alone. You knew way too much information that you didn't even know how you knew. 

You just knew.

Anything concerning your hot upset professor was known to you, just like the way you knew he was ignoring you when you knocked on his office door after you asked permission to enter.

“Kyosu-nim I- I just need a minute please.”

“I don’t have a minute, please leave.”

“Kyosu-nim, I need to apologise, please give me one moment.”

He didn't answer, you exhaled and leaned on the door trying to think what to do. I was killing you, the way he shot disgusted glares during his lectures was agonising. You couldn’t function, you couldn’t focus. It was making you go crazy slowly...

“Aaaah!” you exclaimed when you felt the door behind you opening.

“Very clever of you of course leaning on a door. Why am I not even surprised?”

Oh he was frowning. Again...

“Kyosu-nim, if you wou-”

“I need to go, this is not in my working hours and I have nothing to talk to you about in my ‘not working hours’”

You sighed watching him walk holding his briefcase tightly. He was so annoyed. Oh but you x-rayed him as he walked. 

You imagined slapping that ass.

What a random thought when this man was going to mark your end of year project.

He filled them tight pants way too good, Korean fashion for men was sinful. It was just mesmerising. Oh this man...

But it was useless, you guessed you were lucky enough that he didn’t report you. It felt as if you were harassing him at that stage. You had to let go.

You decided to stop by in the grocery store to get something to cook and take with you the following day. You were in the mood of some noodles and rice cakes. To the Asian grocery store then.

You parked the car and headed inside, you bowed at the lady at the cashier and greeted her in Madarin as you always did, she then advised you that the oyster mushrooms were half price today and that couldn’t be better news. You headed to the vegetables section, but instead of being met with the damn mushrooms you were met with his perfectly filled pants.

Kim Minseok was there doing his groceries.

“They are right there were the handsome man is!” she exclaimed motioning to were the mushrooms were.

You smiled in silence and bowed to make her understand that you got the message.

But she didn’t stop... You were losing your mind, you needed to say thank you and make her shut up not to draw attention.

“Xie xie” you whisper-shouted.

“Are you following me now?”

His voice in your ear, his breath hitting your exposed neck. You bounced when your eardrums felt the vibration of his voice.

“Me!? No! I am getting oyster mushrooms.”

He snorted and shook his head, his upper lip forming that signature smirk that formed naturally as he spoke toxically “pathetic.”

Your heart banged on your ribcage so hard that you lost the ability to even stand straight. You watched him placing the things he got on the counter getting his wallet form his back pocket.

Glorious... you envied the wallet.

He paid and left you there standing trying to think how to come from it. There was nothing you could do other than collect your oyster mushrooms. It was pathetic, he was right, no matter what you did this coincidence was going to be really difficult to clear. He definitely thinks you are some kind of weirdo obsessed with the professor.

You placed the mushrooms on the counter and paid the lady, she then gave you a tissue when she noticed tears forming in your eyes.

“Are you alright miss? Boyfriend problems?”

“Uh? No, no no, I am fine just stressed I guess.”

“Take care of yourself, nothing is worth it.”

You left the store and sat in your car, you hugged the steering wheel and cried, you cried loudly and it kind of made you feel better? In a way.

You heard the passenger’s door open and a man wearing a black baseball hat with black sunglasses sit net to you. You were about to scream but...

“운전해요! ~ Unjeonhaeyo! ~ Drive!”

Was it?

“Didn’t you hear me!?”

“Y-yes kyosu-nim.”

You turned on the engine and drove as you sniffed wiping your tears in hopes he didn’t see the pathetic stage you were in as he said.

“You really are crying? For me?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question.

If you said no it wouldn’t sound too nice because he kind of asked but it was already a confirmation. And if you said yes it would sound absolutely pathetic.

“Yeah don’t answer that. I don’t wanna hear it.”

What did he want?

“Take the highway and exit on the second roundabout, I live near the cottages.”

He wanted you to drive him home? 

You tried looking at him from the corner of your eye but you couldn’t focus, it was either you drive or you look, both at the same time was suicidal. You cleared your throat several times for him to speak but all he did was rest his head on the headrest and breath heavily.

He was making you lose your mind, your sanity, your shit, your everything that could be lost.

“K-kyosu-nim?”

“Shhh, drive in silence, you annoy me already too much for you to be stuttering.”

O M G what was this torture?

He seemed relaxed and not the slightest affected, also not enjoying your nervousness that he could enjoy. That was the way he liked it all along. Little you knew about this perfect man sitting next to you, but one of the things you knew was that he enjoyed making you nervous for some reason.

“I-w- I turned like you said.”

“Keep driving and turn the first left, my apartment is in the all glass building.”

You nodded silently and kept driving till you pulled up at the parking and waited for more instructions.

“Number 18, park in that spot.”

You drove looking at the floor to find the damn number 18, you questioned why he didn’t give you directions, but well of course he enjoyed making you suffer, didn’t he?

Finally you saw the big number 18 on the floor and carefully parked the car turning the engine off. His eyes were still closed, you appreciated his factions more, his killer jaw, his eyebrows... Kim Minseok this close to you breathing the same oxygen you were.

He opened his eyes and straightened himself “are you done scanning me?”

You just doubled your eyes in size and looked away. 

“Wait 5 minutes in the car and then follow me, needless to say that I live in apartment number 18, also obvious that is in the first floor” he began “put this baseball cap on and if you have sunglasses wear them.” 

When he placed the cap on your head you were like shaken to the reality of what he was asking you to do.

He opened the door to leave... 

“You want me to go to your apartment?”

He sat back and looked at you lowering his sunglasses “what does it look like?”

You just couldn’t reply.

“I mean well you want to talk to me and I want to talk to you but what I want to talk to you about is not appropriate to be handled in my office.”

“Ah-”

“Five minutes.”

He closed the door and the loud thud made your heart race uncontrollably. You took your bottle of water and drank some spilling over your chin and chest.

You watched him walk relaxed, as if nothing fixing his sunglasses running his fingers through his hair to make it breathe again after wearing the baseball cap, and breathing it did, wow. It was dyed light brown and it felt so incredibly soft. You couldn’t wait to feel it with your own fingers.

Why would you think something like that now?

You kept looking a the clock in the dashboard of your car waiting for 5 minutes exactly to pass. That is if you could walk.

When the clock indicated 5 minutes exactly you fixed the baseball cap and wore the sunglasses as he instructed. When the air hit your wet collarbones you shivered a bit dramatically, even your core was throbbing in excitement. 

Your hot Korean professor just ordered you to follow him to his apartment. You entered the building and went to the elevators almost running. The wait was agonising as you kept clicking on the button, so you decided to go by foot.

Not ideal when you noticed how much you were sweating and how laboured was your breath was getting. 

Apartments 1-10 left, apartments 11-20 right. You walked and counted in your head as you passed 11, 12, 13, 14 almost there, 18! 

You fanned yourself before aiming to knock, but you noticed the door was already open.

“Kyosu-nim? Can I come in?”

You peeked inside, the apartment smelled too good, manly but spotless clean, it was so refreshing to know a man living alone would take care of his apartment this well.

You closed the door behind you and leaned against the door you hands at your back, you didn’t know what to do really other than appreciate the glossy white ceramic flooring standing awkwardly.

You then heard steps and saw Minseok standing at the end of the corridor “remove your shoes.”

You bent down and tried pulling you shoes off but you were too nervous, you also noticed his steps coming closer, when you finally rid yourself from your shoes you looked up and watched how he loosened his tie, his frown visible. You stood back up wondering what was going to be asked from you now.

He came incredibly close to you fearless, you pressed yourself to the door as much as you could holding your breath but at this stage you felt his body warmth on you, he was definitely touching your chest with his.

“You are sweaty.”

“I actually dropped some water on myself as I was drinking.”

“Why? Are you nervous perhaps?”

“I am anxious yes, not going to lie about that.”

“Why?” he asked tilting his head.

“Why am I here?”

He snorted moving away laughing on his fisted hand “honey you wanted to talk to me and I am giving you the chance.”

“Oh- oh thank- thank you, oh yes, ahm, yes yes, well I just wanted to apologise, for the other time at the library, I really didn’t mean anything. I guess it got out of hand, I misunderstood and I- I shouldn’t of done that.”

“Ah now you are upsetting me.”

“Huh?”

“I am not your passion then?”

“Wh- I- huh?”

“내 호버크라프트는 장어로 가득 차 있어요. 그게 내 열정이예요 ~ Nae hobeokeurapeuteuneun changeoro kadeuk cha isseyo. Geuge nae yeoljeongiyeyo ~ Just hearing you breath in my ear sends shivers down my spine. And that’s my passion. That is what you told me, I remember it very well.”

Your whole body clenched, you scratched the door at your back and didn’t know how to act, you saw him smirk and play with his tongue pushing his cheek with it, you even heard little sinful noises as he did that and you couldn’t but gulp.

That tongue must taste so good.

“Well?”

Your shellshocked face was obvious, you really didn’t know what to do, or say. How to act? Was he suggesting anything? Was he allowed? Was this right? Were you imagining things?

“Would you like me to breath in your ear again and send shivers down your spine to see if that is your passion? Noona?”

Oh you trembled and closed your eyes, you were being way to obvious, you were afraid of sliding down to the floor at this stage because you simply couldn’t anymore.

“I guess I will have to try, because silence is a sign of approval.”

Now you felt all his body pressed against yours undeniably. He was pressed to you in a sexual manner. No other way to put it. You felt his hands over yours as in caging them between his for you not to move.

“Look at me” he ordered.

When you opened your eyes there he was, serious and demanding. You felt his cheek over your collarbone his face disappearing at your ear level “am I your passion?”

“Kyosu-nim? I- what do I-?”

“Call me Minseok-ah. I am younger and you are a noona. Call me that here.”

“I can’t do this because I will lose it.”

“Lose it” he confirmed taking your earlobe between his teeth “tell me how is my breath in your ear your passion.”

“Why? Why you doing this?” you asked desperately you voice almost inaudible as your legs rubbed against each other.

“말해봐 - malhaebwa - tell me” he pleaded feeling his nose at your neck.

“Kyosu-nim!”

“Minseok! That is my name”

“Minseok please.”

“Please? Please what?”

“I am very attracted to you and this isn’t helping.”

“Attracted?” he asked detaching himself freeing your hands “how?”

“Why? This is cruel, why are you doing this?”

“I get to ask the questions here, not you!”

You buried your face in your hands flustered. He was killing you in a way you didn’t know possible. It was everything, the fear, the excitement, the shivers, the need. 

He took your hands and placed them over his chest, you felt how ripped was inside the dress shirt. He was licking his lips and your mind went hazy. Was he playing? Was he wanting you to say inappropriate stuff in purpose? Like a trap? His ways weren’t very ethical at all... maybe he wanted you too?

“Speak up noona. Say it because you are my student and I cannot say it. I am giving you the chance for you to say it so I can take it from there.”

“Ever since I laid eyes on you... I can’t think, I can’t study... every time I close my eyes your eyes hunt me.”

“More” he whispered.

“Can you show me kyosu-nim? Can you show me some Korean passion?” you asked your voice broken.

That moment his hands cupped your butt cheeks and without commanding you you found yourself jumping lightly encircling your legs around his waist. His mouth connected to your neck and you felt his tongue dart out lapping your sensitive skin harshly.

“Ah, Minseok-aaaah!”

“I am going to show you some Korean passion now” he announced before sucking on your skin.

Your head banged on the door and your hands encircled tighter at his neck, your fingertips digging in his scalp. You felt him moving so you tightened the grip around his waist.

“Min-”

He didn’t answer, he detached his lips to see where he was going and your head fell on his shoulder. You heard his breathing close to your hear and your stomach flipped in a good way. You needed him, and it was obvious by now that he did too.

He stopped walking and you were tossed carelessly onto a bed, you bounced a few times, the reality hitting you as you watched him take off his glasses and undo his tie and buttons never breaking eye contact.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you better behave if you want to pass and you want your Masters degree.”

“That was blunt.”

“I am a man that likes to be direct, no bullshit, and you had me frustrated enough all this time” he added yanking his shirt off displaying his sculptured to perfection abs.

You covered your mouth as this was nothing like you would have imagined, he was a professor not an athlete, and seeing this, even athletes would envy this body.

He was perfect, a little happy trail and the muscles all in the right place. His nipples erected and ready to bite. He followed by undoing his belt watching you hug your legs that were at your chest and your nose at your knees... your eyes just darting up to keep witnessing the private show.

“You know in how much trouble I could get for this?” he asked before his pants pooled at his feet, the metal of the buckle hitting the hard flooring making you wide aware.

You nodded, your eyes betraying you to look down at his thighs. He came forward crawling his way to the centre of the bed were you were seated. He pulled the cap out of your head tossing it aside, his hand resting at the nape of your neck bringing you close to him, your legs relaxing sliding down slowly.

He bit his lip looking at yours, he felt them with his thumb, involuntarily you opened your mouth and he felt your tongue with his fingertip making him hiss.

“I want to eat you, I want to make you suffer the way you have been doing all this time.”

“I will be a good student. I promise.”

Minseok moved forward crushing his lips on yours electing a gasp from you before he enveloped them completely. He wasn’t sweet in any way, you could taste the frustration that was being built up all this time. Your mouth opened when his tongue poked on your lips, he found your own tongue and dominated the kiss from the begging. He pushed himself forward spreading your legs for him to nestle between them as he kept kissing you hungrily. He pulled away for a second to take a breath watching your underneath him panting made him want this more.

“Noona is so hot, she drove me crazy, I can’t teach when you are in my class, I hate myself for not being able to control myself.”

“If I’m hot you are pure fire, I can’t take it anymore, I want you Minseok-ah” is all you could say.

He pulled your jumper roughly exposing your shoulder, you felt his teeth as his hand shamelessly fished for your breast. You heard him groan when he found your nipple “take everything off” he requested pulling away palming his bulge.

You grabbed the hem of your jumper crossing your arms and pulling it off your head, the sports bra you wore was far from being sexy, but judging by your professor’s gaze he couldn’t care less, he was sloppily helping you to try and get rid of any clothing. 

“Off! Take that off!” his demanding voice was making things to you.

You brought your knees back up to cover your chest when you freed yourself completely and Minseok harshly brought your legs to his sides spreading them with the action. Your hands tried covering your torso and Minseok found it cute as well as sexy.

“You don’t want this noona?”

“I do, but it’s just too sudden. We didn’t even talk.”

“The talk is done later. I love shower sex. It’s my favourite thing in the world. And now you know something very intimate about me.” 

He finally smiles and that was when you thought the room lit up. You covered your mouth giggling and slowly you let your hands drop so he could see you bare. He gasped when he took in your nakedness.

“Can I touch you now? The way I want noona?”

“Please do Minseok-ah” you responded getting rid off your pants and your underwear. You loved how he watched you like an expectant kitty.

“Come.” 

You extended your hands and he took them entwining his fingers with yours pulling them above your head nestling between your legs again.

“Ah wait” you said freeing your hand “you are still wearing this” you patted his clothed butt cheek.

“Noona!”

You nodded and looked away shyly again. In less than a second he was naked, and it was strangely very thick, clean and so well groomed.

“Wow.”

He checked out so he turned around for a second to roll the condom he had prepared beforehand in his nightstand. The view from the back was even better if possible, his butt cheeks were round and firm and so bite worthy. He went back to the position he was in, your hands above your head feeling his palm on yours. And his manhood rubbing right there.

“Foreplay, the best part.”

“I thought the shower was.”

“No that is round 2′s best part.”

He started rolling his hips in a swift way, it was amazing because he was just literally rubbing his erecting with your swollen nub.

Fascinating, this man was just fascinating.

“Minseok you are amazing.”

“I swear I wanted to have you bent in my office desk on that very first day I saw you, I wanted to make you moan my name. I hated you because of how weak you made me” he spoke as he kept rolling his hips.

“Minseok-ah, I am ready, please do it.”

“I want you to suffer a little bit noona.”

“No, just please” you pleaded as you arched your back to get the most you could get.

“Will you let me fuck you in the shower too?”

“Yes, just please.”

“You better let me do it my way then, because otherwise you will fail.”

“Minseok!”

And he thrusted effortlessly shutting your cry claiming your lips again. He was so strong, his thrusts steady hitting that one spot from the first try had you trembling underneath him. He was wild and kept bitting and nibbling everywhere his mouth took him.

He pulled away to watch you lose control, he was so satisfied, the smell of sex filling his nostrils, he growled loudly when you pinched your nipples looking at him “why did you stop?”

“This, this noona, I can’t believe I waited so long to do this.”

“You haven’t done anything yet, weren’t you supposed to teach me a lesson?”

“나쁜 여자 - nappeun yeoja - bad girl.”

“그래, 나야 - geurae, naya - yes I am.”

“Informal speech ha?”

You smiled running your hands over his chest feeling his navel with your thumb and back at his waist trying to bring his closer but he stopped you thrusting from that position so he could see his dick disappearing inside your entrance.

“얼마나 좋아해요? - eolmana johahaeyo? - how much do you like it?”

“많이 - manhi - a lot.”

“Oh noona, noona” he repeated falling over you wrapping his arms around your back to hold you the closest he could.

“Is this good for you noona?” he asked his voice low and affected as he kept his pace.

“You, you are hitting right there merciless since we started. I didn’t know that was possible.”

Oh that drove him crazy, his thrusts went erratic.

“You just fit so well. Yes tighten like that, yes, yes!”

You were seeing stars at this point and your nails dug on his smooth back as your orgasm rushed over your whole body. Minseok was grunting when he released into the unfortunate condom.

“That was... you are the best kyosu-nim.”

He kissed your neck repeatedly over and over.

“누나가 나의 내 열정입니다 - noonaga naui nae yeoljeongibnida - noona is also my passion.”

He killed you with that sentence. Was he for real? You didn’t know what to say, you just froze and he noticed how awkward that made you feel, he stopped kissing you. He lifted his head to see your face and he saw it in your eyes. 

Surprise.

“Does noona hate me for this?”

You shook your head “no.”

“I am sorry, I really like you, I am sorry for not controlling myself, I am sorry for the way I treated you, I was trying to take you off my head.”

“Don’t you dare take me off your head. Now let me own my full marks with that shower.” 

Minseok finally relaxed and pecked your lips lifting you bridal style to his ensuite bathroom.

*****

“Professor Kim Minseok will not be giving lectures anymore.” announced the substitute professor.

Everyone looked at each other confused and murmurs were heard...

“Why?” asked James.

“He has been fired.”

You left the lecture and took your phone calling Minseok.

“Baby? What happened? Where are you?”

“They found out, one of the university staff saw you leaving my apartment and I have been fired. They fired me noona.”

“No! What? No it can’t be. I will talk to the-”

“No! Don’t do that, they will expel you. Just let it be, it’s my fault, I couldn’t wait till you finished. Don’t do anything!”

“But Mins-”

“I said no!”

“So what now?”

“I will go back to Korea, and I hope you... I don’t know, how are we going to do this?”

“Don’t leave me Minseok.”

“I am not, but I cannot stay here. I cannot even teach anymore. It’s over.”

“I am so sorry kyosu-nim.”

_____________________

A/N: Surprises next part... unexpected turn of fate ^_~

Thanks for reading, feedback always welcomed!

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