#and you having to pretend like its the most delicious meal you have ever laid eyes on

[yieldtotemptation]

VALENTINE ft. Irene

irene x male reader smut

4k words

It's in the little things Irene does that lets you know how much she loves you.

She comes to you early, earlier than you expected - you've only just finished setting the table; having lit candles, laid out silverware, opened the wine.

It's while you're placing down the result of your night's work in the kitchen when you feel her small body press against your back, slender arms wrapping around your waist, the subtle aroma of roses greeting you.

I missed you.

Gently, you place a hand on top of hers, letting her hold herself against you for a beat longer, before carefully peeling her hands off you and turning around to take in a sight that takes your breath away.

There is nothing else in the world that sends your heart rate rocketing, that clears your mind and fills you with a giddy light-headedness, that makes you for a moment believe in the certainty of there being a higher power - because how else could such a beautiful work of art exist - like Irene Bae.

Every time you look at Irene feels like the first time - she's so beautiful, so seductive, somehow making everything around her more appealing simply by virtue of being in her presence.

Tonight, however, she looks exceptional.

Long, silky, dark hair, cascading over bare, porcelain shoulders, eyes subtly flecked with light make-up to accent wide pools of chocolate-brown, her lips coloured a vibrant red, matching the colour of her strapless, flowing dress. Irene is the sum of a million things that makes her heavenly - long, toned legs, a petite, slim waist, the firmest, tightest, most succulent ass you have ever seen, and an elfin face that could both start and end wars.

I wanted to look good for you.

She takes a step forward, even in heels barely reaching your chin, having to wrap her arms around your neck to help herself up and pull you down into her kiss. It's light, soft, and she tastes sweet and delicious, and you want more, so much more that you want to forget about the dinner you spent hours getting just right and take her then and there.

But she separates from you, her heels clicking against the ground as she lets you out of her grasp, and she smiles knowingly.

There'll be plenty of time for that later.

You can't help but pout.

Patience.

You take her by the hand, leading her to her side of the dining table, pulling her seat out for her and helping her forward. You take your time, purposefully leaning close you her, close enough to her to fully absorb the scent of her perfume, to feel the heat of her breath, to see the elegant curve of her neck.

You tease.

You reach over, taking the aged bottle of red wine you had been saving specifically for this occasion, taking care as you pour it into her wineglass, trying your best not to be too distracted by the delectable glimpse of cleavage down her dress.

Eyes up here, mister.

You do your best to pretend you weren't just caught red-handed, blushing under her gaze, finishing pouring her glass before regretfully turning back to your side of the table. You take a seat across from her, barely a meter apart, but any distance would be too far anyway.

Candlelight is all that illuminates the room, bathing Irene in its warm radiance, the flickering of flame lighting up her widening eyes as she takes in the meal you've prepared for her.

This looks amazing.

Irene smiles at you, humming in pleasure at the first bite, savouring the fruits of your labour. It's not long until you fall into the rhythm of conversation, trading tales of your day, laughing at dumb jokes, glasses of wine freely flow between the two of you.

There is no comparison to the company of someone you truly love and who unconditionally loves you back - someone who knows your history, your stories, your dreams, your fears, and all your insecurities.

It's a short while before your plates are empty, wineglasses drained, and the luminescence of the candles begin to dim, and a silent tension builds in the space between the two of you.

You can see it, the flickers of desire and need on her face, driven by wine and lust and the air of romance permeating through the evening.

I know what you want - I want it too.

Irene takes care to dab at her lips with a napkin, ensuring her face remains unmarred, as if it’s even a possibility for her to look anything but divine.

She rises from her seat, walking over to your side of the table, looking like she's just stepped out of your wildest fantasy; the stunning lady in the red dress. When she's at your side she extends a hand to you, like there was any chance that you would ever turn her down.

Let's go to bed.

You take Irene's offered hand, helping yourself to your feet, letting her lead you down the hallway of your penthouse, past framed happy memories captured of times already gone, into the bedroom you've shared so many nights together.

The curtains are open, the city lights spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows and into the room, giving Irene an ethereal, otherworldly glow. She turns you around, pushing you onto the king-sized bed, giving you a front-row seat to her body.

Watch me.

You've seen Irene undress a million times before, seen her naked body in all its magnificent splendour so many times you could sculpt her in all her perfection with your eyes closed, but still, it's an utter gift when she carefully unzips the back of her dress and she lets the strapless, red garment fall from her body.

Underneath her dress is perfect, smooth vanilla, and your eyes drink in her incredible nakedness in its entirety - from her long, lean legs, to her cleanly-shaven mound, to her flat, toned stomach, up to the swell of her mouth-watering, perky breasts, all the way to her angel face with eyes solely reserved for you.

I want you to have all of this tonight, all of me.

She steps out of the dress around her ankles, heels still strapped to her feet, taking slow, measured steps towards you. You start unbuttoning your own shirt as she approaches, never breaking eye contact with her, less you miss her bite her lip as you reveal more of your chest.

She falls forward onto you, her legs straddled on either side of you, her heat pressing against your own swelling mass trapped underneath your pants. It's all too overwhelming, every minor movement of her body on top of you, the brush of her fingers against your cheek, the feeling of her stiffening nipples tickling against your chest, the sudden slight dampness forming over your burgeoning erection, eliciting a nearly silent gasp from her lips.

You kiss her - deeply, passionately, for the first time of the night. She moans into you, pulling your face into hers as her tongue invades your mouth, marking its territory as her own. You can feel her body tense and shiver as you fire back by taking her small breasts into your own hands, relishing the feeling of her lovely nipples between your fingers.

She takes her time - there's plenty of time - grinding against your crotch, staining the black fabric more and more with the juices of her pussy. You're more than content to keep her like this, torturing you with her gyrations on your trapped erection, ruining your pants with her creamy goodness, but she knows that as happy as you are to have her on top of you, further pleasure still lies ahead.

She makes a show of it, and what a show it is, as Irene kisses her way down the side of your face, nipping at your ear, licking your jawline, biting into your shoulder. She slides herself off your waist in an agonisingly teasing motion, leaving a trail of saliva down the centre of your pecs, following the path that leads down towards the waistband of your pants.

Irene deftly unbuckles your belt, ripping it off your pants and sending it flying across the bedroom to some forgotten corner. You help her, not one to get between Irene and her meal, lifting your hips to let her drag both your pants and your underwear down your legs and off your feet in one quick, sweeping motion.

Her eyes light up as your cock snaps to attention in front of her, already at its full length, needing her to take responsibility for your swollen erection. Irene complies, carefully wrapping her soft, delicate fingers around your length, taking the full measure of you, admiring the stiffness in her warm hand.

You have no idea how much I love this cock.

She looks up at you, and it's almost too much, the feeling of her eyes on you, her hot breath on your shaft, her hand running all the way down to the base of your cock.

Let me take care of you.

She kisses the tip of your cock, tasting the pre-cum already dripping from it, humming to herself in delight. Her tongue sends pleasant shivers down your spine, licking and swirling around the head of your cock, each brush of her tongue achingly spurring you to an impossible hardness.

She knows you, knows just how you like it, knows where to lick, to kiss, to suck, and knows just the right pace to take each and every inch of you into her small, welcoming, warm mouth. You tangle your fingers in her lush hair, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of her looking up at you, deep, dark pools needing nothing from you except to enjoy the feeling of her mouth wrapped around you.

Tell me how good this feels.

A groan escapes your mouth when you feel your cock hit the back of her throat, and her nose presses against your base, lips kissing the bottom of your cock. You can see her eyes water, but she holds herself there, holds herself against you, making sure you get the most out of the experience of being hilt deep in Irene's exquisite mouth.

She withdraws her mouth from you, tantalisingly slow, lustful eyes enjoying every harsh breath that escapes you as her lipstick smears up the length of your shaft.

She never lets you escape her mouth, letting the tip remain kissing her lips, before she swallows you into her again, slowly, steadily, developing a rhythmic bob onto you.

Irene sucks with purpose, with experience, with skill, her mouth moving at just the right angle to fit your entirety inside of her, her tongue swirling and lapping around you to tingle your nerves in an incredibly sensual way.

She moans around you, the sound escaping her sealed lips as she works her way up and down your length, ensuring not an inch of you goes unmarked by her tongue. She lovingly takes you in her mouth, smothering your cock with her spit, determined to take you as close to the edge as possible with her sucking.

It feels almost wrong, to violate such a beautiful work of art in such an obscene manner, but that thought almost immediately leaves your mind when her pace suddenly quickens, her fingers dig into your thighs, and she lets you truly fuck her face.

The room is filled with sounds of slurps and gags and wetness from Irene as she pumps your cock in and out of her, letting the saliva dribble out of her mouth and lather onto your balls and thighs, eager to swallow you into her faster and faster.

Still, your cock never leaves her needy mouth, and she never lets you take control, mercilessly drawing aches of mind-numbing pleasure as she forces your cock to thrust quicker, to fuck her face harder, to pound into her until her lovely mouth is reduced to being nothing but a receptacle for your cock.

This mouth belongs to you.

You can feel yourself getting close, the pressure building into you - it's all too much, feels way too good, Irene's blowjobs are masterpieces in and of itself, hitting every single one of your weak points, causing your knees to shake as she takes in full down her throat. It hasn't been that long but you're already almost there and  just when you think the dams are about to break, your cock leaves her lips with an audible pop, and you are unable to stop the groan of disappointment that leaves your mouth.

She grins up at you, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to the head of your cock, her face awash with the tell-tale signs of a good face fuck - tears, runny make-up, glistening sweat, yet still immaculate hair.

There's only one place I want your cum tonight.

She rises before you, pushing herself up against your thighs and to her feet, her eyes beckoning you closer to her.

Feel how wet I am.

The city lights outside splash against her perfect form, highlighting the glistening of her juices already beginning to drip from her pussy and run down her thighs.

It was always a big turn on for Irene to give you a blowjob - not just because she enjoyed the feeling of your hard cock in her mouth, but also the power and control it gave her over you, the ability to make you feel unbelievable pleasure and please you like only she could.

You avert your eyes from her gaze and let them rest on her pussy, reaching a hand around to grab her wonderfully tight, little ass and pull her closer to you.

She yelps slightly as she stumbles forward into you, bracing herself on your shoulders, and then letting loose a long, satisfied moan as your fingers brush against her dripping, hot, needy pussy.

You know just how to touch me.

You know exactly where her clit is, finding the erect nub and gently stimulating it with your thumb. She melts in the palm of your hands, staining your fingers with her juices while you play with the folds of her pussy. Wordless gasps of pleasure leave her as you find her entrance with your index finger, wasting no time to push past the slight resistance and feel her heat around your digits.

She moans as her hips quiver and tremble around you as you slowly push your fingers up and into her juicy pussy. Her hips adjust slightly in your hand, and she sinks down on your fingers, and begins to grind on you.

You love the feeling of her ass in one hand, making the most of its firmness, perfectly nestled in your palm, while your other dextrously plays her pussy like the finest musical instrument, each note an exasperated, elated whimper.

A sudden realisation causes Irene to focus, and she seems to regain some senses and stops you, grabbing your wrist with her hand.

Not like this. Enough with the foreplay. I need more than that.

You are never one to disobey orders, especially when they involve fucking Irene, and you pull her forward into your arms, wrapping tightly around her. In one swift, clean motion, you spin her around, throwing her onto the bed and below you, until she's lying face-up, with you above her, on-top of the most breathtakingly flawless girl you've had the fortune of sharing a bed with.

Now take what's yours.

You crush your lips against hers, her mouth opens to let your tongue slip past her lips, letting you explore her mouth as you line up your tip with her needy, wanting entrance. Her sopping wet pussy is more than inviting to your cock, drawing out a sharp exhalation from her as you push into her. No matter how frequently you fuck her, Irene's always tight, the tightest pussy you've ever been blessed to experience, and just as ridiculously wet for you. Her pussy moulds itself around you, clenching to each inch that you push in, the warmth of her walls rippling around your shaft, nearly sending you over the edge.

You resist the urge to cum there and then inside her, instead choosing to focus on Irene, the beautiful girl before you reduced to a quivering, trembling mess. Her fingers grasp for the sheets, knuckles white with the tightness of her grip. Her wonderfully tight body tenses up beneath you and her face contorts in complete, utter pleasure. Her eyes are clenched shut, her mouth frozen in an O-shape, short, hot breaths leaving her mouth as you sink further and further into her.

You move, slowly at first, easing yourself into her, but still delighting in putting a little bit of emphasis on the extra pump that pushes your last inch into her, causing her tits to bounce in a wondrously satisfying way, taking sharp moans from her as her body tightens and tenses around you.

Eventually, she loosens her grip on the bedsheets and wraps her arms tightly around your neck, while simultaneously folding her legs across your back, holding herself against you. Her body is hot and right in your arms, her face nestled in your neck, her lips against your skin, her racing heartbeat thumping against your chest.

Make love to me.

You and Irene have a long, storied history of sex - from fast, frenzied, end-of-the-world type sex, to multiple days of drawn-out lovemaking; in every room of your shared penthouse apartment to every possible public location - trains, boats, cars - even a plane - but sometimes, there was nothing better than sweet, passionate, fucking.

She kisses your neck, whispering formless words, sometimes just moans, sometimes just your name, but all sounds just different ways to vocalise how pleadingly, desperately she needs you to fuck her.

You feel so fucking good inside me.

You begin to quicken your pace, letting her body adjust to you, moulding itself around you as you hungrily make the most of the heat of her pussy around you.

You find a new rhythm, thrusting in and out of her tight, hot pussy, listening to her increasingly loud moans, feeling her fingers explore the muscles of your back, her lips marking your skin as hers as she attempts to muffle herself against your body.

You lift your head, clashing your lips with her once again, this time kissing her with urgency, and Irene immediately mirrors you, fiercely taking your tongue with her own, pulling you down by the neck and pressing her petite body up against you.

I want you, all of you, please use me.

Fucking Irene is so easy, feels so right, she takes your full length in and out of her body with ease, her pussy, her entire body, seems divinely designed to take your cock deep into her hot, wet cunt. You let your hands drift up her sides, finding a grip on her shoulders, getting better leverage to thrust into her harder, deeper, slamming moans out of her body and echoing across the room.

You fuck me so good!

Your mind is overcome with hunger, driven by the sensation of Irene on your cock. Each slam against her pussy makes her body quiver and melt in your arms, her pussy tightening and pulsating around you, her soaking, wet sex drenching you, telling you how wild she was for you, how crazy she was for you and your cock.

So deep inside me... So fucking deep! So -

Irene's body freezes, overwhelmed with pleasure that pushes past her breaking point. Her legs tighten behind you, her arms pull you into her, squeezing her breasts against your chest, and her pussy clenches around your cock, trembling and shaking. When Irene cums she cums hard - she throws her head back, mouth open in a breathless moan, a long, drawn-out exhalation of satisfaction and complete ecstasy leaving her as her orgasm breaks her.

You don't know how much time passes, content to ride out her orgasm with her, letting her body writhe beneath you and around you, loving the experience of getting to see her drunk on your cock.

Eventually, the aftershocks end and her arms fall to her sides, her legs let loose their hold on your back, and she rests her back on the bed. Her eyes, once clenched shut, lost in the passion of your fucking, slowly open, flush with love, desire, and lust.

My turn to make you feel good.

Irene surprises you with her sudden show of strength, pressing her leg to the bed and pushing hard enough to roll you onto your back, until you're now looking up at her, a naughty, mischievous smile on her face.

She pushes herself up from you, knees on either side of your thighs, back straight up to give you the amazing view of her small, delicious breasts under the artificial lights streaming through the window. Perfection is the word that runs through your mind when you witness the visage of Irene on top of you, her tight, young body, lithe and graceful, impaling herself on your cock, want nothing more to ride you, make love to you, needing nothing but to fuck you.

Lie back, let me take this - I fucking need this.

She takes control, rocking her hips up and down your cock, arching her back in the perfect way to angle her pussy to take as much of your cock as possible. You raise your hands to her breasts, squeezing the soft, precious flesh as she works her way on top of you.

Irene is far too good, far too skilled at riding you, each collision of her cunt against your hips shoots shockwaves of arousal through you. Her pussy feels incredible while she rides you, moistening and squeezing around you as you enter and exit her body.

You feel so big inside me, baby.

It's on top of you when Irene feels the tightest, and you do your best to push more and more of yourself inside her, finding new ways to reach deeper into her hot, earth-shatteringly fuckable body.

You can't help yourself, seeing her taut, erect nipples bounce in time with your fucking is too much, and you sit up to take one of her hardened buds into your mouth forcing a sound from Irene's mouth that is both primal and animalistic.

Fuck baby, that's cheating!

You match her hips with your own, bouncing her on top of you as you feast on her nipples, tasting her exquisite body while fucking her without abandon. Your tongue swirls around her nipple, there's no rhythm or pace to it, you simply indulge as much as you can in her, enjoying her sighs and gasps that fill your ears while you taste her and fuck her.

You don't just taste her nipples, you kiss her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her lips. It's all too much and not enough at once, your head is an empty haze clouded by the feeling of Irene's grasping pussy driving you towards an oncoming climax.

Fuck me harder! Take me!

She begs for it, wants it, whispers her need to have you fill her, make her feel complete in the way only you know how. She pushes your shoulders back slightly, pushing your mouth off her body, resting her hands around your neck so that she can meet you eye to eye and communicate the one truth between the two of yours.

I'm yours - only yours! Just please, give it to me!

She cradles your face in her small hands, holding your eyes in hers, freezing the two of you in this moment where you are the only two people that matter, the connection of your body to hers is the thread that holds your entire worlds together.

You lose yourself in her, lose yourself in the sounds of her final gasps in your ear, her moans of your name mixing in with groans of your own, the warmth of her body collapsing into yours, the only thing that exists is the feeling of her heat surrounding you, tightening and trembling in the most desperate of ways around your cock, pulsating faster and faster in an attempt to draw as much of you into her as possible.

Please, cum for me!

Her body shakes around you as you bury yourself into her, falling deep inside as every wall inside you breaks all at once, pleasure rips through your body and up into Irene, forcing your cum to flow out of you and deep into her.

She suddenly tightens around you, every muscle tenses, clenching around you in agonising pleasure as she takes shot after shot of your cum, until finally she releases as well, her body dissolves into a quivering, quaking mess on top of you, rocking her with her own orgasm as a long, drawn-out sigh leaves her in tandem with your own cum overflowing out of her. It spills all past her plump pussy lips and dribbles down her thighs and onto your base, mixing with her own juices and pooling beneath the two of you in a puddle of sex.

Moments pass before you let go of the breath you had no idea you were holding, and both your bodies relax and fall into each other.

She collapses on top of you, naked body pressed against your skin, your cock still inside her, still a part of her.

Neither of you want this night to end - especially as it's now when Irene is most beautiful.

This is the Irene that makes you feel like the luckiest man alive - her petite, well-fucked body heaving with heavy breaths on top of you, glistening with sweat, juices and cum, bathed in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

She smiles at you, a sweet, devastating thing, her eyes looking at you in a way only she can - conveying in a simple gaze the years of companionship, of intimacy, of love you have built together.

You take your free hand, brushing off the loose strand of hair daring to get in the way of her perfect face, and she brings her own hand up to hold your palm against her cheek. She turns into you, lightly kissing into your palm, holding your hand in hers.

She cranes her neck just a little, enough to bring her lips close enough to yours to kiss you once more, because no matter how many times you kiss, it will never be enough, yet it will always be too long until the next time.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

#kpop smut #red velvet smut #irene smut #male reader

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

NSFW Headcanons~ Spike

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Spike hasn’t had a ton of different partners over the; many, years but he’s explored and done a lot with the few that he’s had.

- If we’re being entirely honest here; you and spike are most likely frenemies with benefits before you’re dating. He would rather have you in some way than have you completely reject and shut him out. Yeah, it’s torment but it temporarily satisfies his need for your companionship.

- Lets hope that you have a strong will because you won’t be able to leave his bed if you don’t. He’s mastered the art of seduction and has a high sex drive; you won’t stand a chance against him, not that you’ll want to half the time.

- Tear his shirt open, please. Having you want him so badly pushes all of his lingering anxieties about you not loving him out of the window. Pull him into a kiss, run your hands all over him, tell him; or show him, how badly you want him; it helps him fully realize that your relationship isn’t one sided.

- He genuinely does actually prefer going down on you but he can’t deny that he loves having you give him a blow/handjob. Slipping your hand down to palm at his jeans is an easy way to turn him on.

- If you’re giving him head then there’s two sides of him. 1) a teeth clenching, hair pulling, aggressive boy and 2) a soft, hair stroking, whispering praises boy.

- He does that ridiculously attractive fuckboy thing where he pushes you up against a wall and slides his hands into your pants or up your skirt, looking straight into your eyes and not letting you look away from him.

- He loves pleasuring you, especially when he can get something in return though your moans are oftentimes enough of a reward for him.

- If you want him on his knees then you’re going to have to put him there yourself; at least the first few times. Although, if he wants it bad enough, he’ll fall at your feet all on his own.

- Most of the time, the two of you usually wind up rolling around the sheets and taking turns fighting for dominance. He deeply loves being both submissive and dominant though he’s less willing to admit that he likes having you take control, especially when you first start sleeping with each other.

- Desperate, passionate, full of heat. He’s versatile, switching from rough to gentle and loving at the drop of a hat, but there’s one thing that always remains the same and that’s how much intensity is involved when the two of you are beneath the sheets. He’s a man starved and you’re a full course meal laid out in front of him.

- Lets talk about the first time you ever slept with him. When the two of you finally gave in to all of that undeniable tension and let both your walls fall down around you. You should have seen him when he finally entered you for the first time, practically losing all the strength in his body and looking at you like you were the entire goddamn world. There’s no turning back after that.

- Everything about you drives him crazy but the way you smell is like a drug to him. Sometimes he’ll just keep his face pressed against your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, the shampoo you use, your arousal. It’s enough to make him want to take you until there’s nothing left for you to give.

- Taking turns pinning each other down. All he really needs is his hands but you might want to get yourself a pair of handcuffs.

- Hickeys, bruises, bitemarks. He likes when you’re rough with him, he likes when you make it hurt.

- God, does he love when he can feel his back all torn up from your nails. The sight and feel of those angry red marks are always a delicious reminder of what you did together and he never gets tired of them.

- Choke him, just do it. Like I said, he likes it rough and if you do to, then he’ll gladly do it back.

- You might as well gag him while you’re at it as well. I suggest some type of fabric, he likes it better than anything else.

- If you’re mortal, than he’s a bit concerned with hurting you though if that’s what you want, who is he to deny you that pleasure? He’ll just make sure he’s being carefully violent.

- He likes taunting and teasing you. He wants you looking at him; or whatever he tells you to, while he does so. He’ll ask you questions that make you feel dirty, pressing himself against you and feeling the heat radiate off of your body as his rumbling voice speaks low in your ear.

- He’s got a thing for dirty talk though he likes to keep it fairly tasteful, calling you love and pet, smugly insisting that you’ve never had it so good, and recounting raunchy memories that the two of you have shared. Oftentimes, he’ll delicately trace his fingers along your skin as he does so, a sense of smug pride filling him when he sees you shiver.

- He slips in that you belong with him, that you’re his; especially when he’s jealous, telling you that no other man could make you feel half of the things that he can. You can’t help but agree.

- He’s a voyeur, he likes fucking or fingering you in public; albeit fairly discreetly since he doesn’t actually want to get caught. He’ll find you; or drag you, to some dark, secluded area, moving close behind you and running his hands along your body, grinding up against you while he kisses your bare skin.

“Look at them, look at your friends, and tell me you dont love getting away with this.”

- Your moans fuel him. He enjoys making you squeal from sudden movements and hearing you scream, especially when it’s his name.

- He doesn’t really have a favorite position, the two of you usually change how you’re going at it several times anyway so it doesn’t even matter.

- The closest thing he has to a favorite position is when he’s spooning you, your body pressed fully against him while he enters you.

- Other positions include: you riding him; usually as he strokes your thighs and backs, having you bent over something, and having you wrapped around him while he takes you against a wall.

- Big dick. Huge dick. Wonderful, oddly pretty, perfect dick that he loves keeping inside you for long periods of time.

- Cockwarming. He especially loves it after you’ve finished and you’re both just lying there sleepily, still connected in the best way possible. Sometimes he’ll teasingly rock his hips into you every now and again, othertimes he’ll just remain still, savoring the feel of you wrapped around him.

- Above all, he wants to please you so he’ll do whatever you ask him to, even if it’s not exactly his usual cup of tea. He’s pretty open to new things anyways.

- If you say you love him during sex he will; quite literally, have to stop himself from cumming. It’s your best weapon. Say it while he’s nearing the edge and you’ll make him crumble above you. Either that or you can say it just before you get down to things and he’ll give you everything he’s got, as though he’s rewarding you for saying it.

- As much as he likes being rough, he loves making love to you as well. Slow, deep thrusts, whispered sweet nothings, chest kisses; he yearns for it all and is willing to give it all to you.

- So many rounds. You’ll go at it until you’re motionless puddy under his hands, your entire body buzzing as he kisses your bare skin and strokes your back, a grin permanently plastered across his perfect face.

- When you’re making love, he likes to finish deep inside you but when your sexual encounter is less than romantic, he enjoys cumming across your face or chest.

- He never wants you to leave after you finish, always trying to convince you to stay a bit longer. If you’re friends with benefits then he’ll try; and usually be pretty bad at, pretending that it’s just because he wants to go another round.

- Dont be surprised if you can’t find your panties when you get up to get dressed. They’ll most likely be found in his back pocket. He may or may not be trying to prolong your little visit.

- He loves aftercare. He’s happy anytime you let him love and take care of you to the fullest. He’ll go and grab whatever you need before coming back and kissing your bare skin, stroking your flesh, and spooning or cradling you in his arms. Its one of the only times he allows himself to be completely visibly and fully in love with you.

#spike imagine #spike headcanon #spike headcanons #btvs imagine #btvs headcanons #btvs headcanon #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer headcanon #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #buffy the vampire slayer headcanons #90s tv headcanons #90s tv show imagine #90s tv imagine #90s tv show headcanons #90s tv show imagines

[deja-you]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

t. jefferson x reader

summary: you tell yourself lies because you know the truth would crush you.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: somewhat smut (but like, not really, more like a heavy make out sesh) and lots of angst. this is like 60% angst even though it’s really 100% angst.

masterlist

You don’t even think about him anymore.

The scalding hot tea cup in your hand could’ve burned off your finger points to the point where you wouldn’t be able to be identified anymore and you wouldn’t even notice. The cool feeling of sheets against your skin. The vibrations from music that’s playing too loudly. The barrage of water droplets in the shower. You couldn’t feel anything anymore, and there was a time where you would feel everything to its fullest extent. 

Maybe you couldn’t feel anything anymore because you could still feel his touch on your skin. That was too overwhelming, wasn’t it?

People said that the first thing you forget about a person is their voice. But you could remember Thomas’s voice all too well. You could remember the sound of his laugh when you told a joke that you knew wasn’t that funny. You’d never forget how your name sounded on his voice in between kisses. 

It wasn’t likely you would stop thinking about what he looked like, either. No, he was just too memorable that way. Bright eyes and wide grin. You forced yourself to stop thinking about him before you fell in love all over again. 

At times like this, you’d stop thinking about the sunshine he created and you would remember the storms. The terrible, horrible storms that washed up in faded photos months later. Tornadoes that ripped through your soul and left you with broken pieces to put back together. Wild fires that made you feel more alive than you had before, but left you with a charred core and third-degree burns. 

Even after living through the apocalypse, you knew you’d do it all again if you had the chance.

You don’t think about that evening in his kitchen.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he mumbled in between kisses. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Thomas could feel the vibrations of your laugh when he placed kisses upon your neck. “Does that line ever work?”

“You telling me it’s not workin’ on you, sweetheart?” The satin of your dress began riding up your thighs as Thomas’s hands travelled further up your legs. The hickey he was currently sucking onto your neck made you lose any ability to speak.

Thomas pulled away just long enough to shrug off his jacket, and then his lips were back on yours, his thumbs sliding the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. He gently pushed you back against the cool marble of his kitchen counter. Thomas pulled your hips against his.

You gasped his name in between kisses. “Thomas, you don’t want to... you don’t... you don’t want to move to the bedroom?”

“Sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss along your collarbone between every word. “I. Want. You. Right. Here.”

You groaned when you felt his lips leave your skin and cracked open one eye at a time. Thomas stood over you, his hands on either side of your head. You tilted your head to the side.

“What is it?”

He drew his bottom lip into his mouth and shook his head. “Nothin’. Just admiring the view.” 

You smacked his chest and rolled your eyes. “Put those lips to better use.”

Thomas did, and you couldn’t help thinking this is going to ruin me. I want it to.

You don’t miss those weekends when you’d visit his family.

“Of course you’re good with children, too,” you rolled your eyes. 

Thomas briefly looked up from his two-year-old niece he was playing with. “S’that a problem, sweetheart? I read somewhere that girls find guys who are good with kids attractive. I hired this child actor just to impress you.”

You laughed through your nose and shook your head. “You know what? I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You know I’d do anything to impress you,” he said with a lopsided grin. Thomas turned back to his niece and waved a rattle in the air above her, making her giggle loudly. 

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” You leaned against a wall and took a second to appreciate just how perfect this moment felt. 

“M’not very good at Pretty, Pretty Princess.” He admitted with a shrug. “You always seem to get all your jewelry pieces and the tiara before I can. I don’t get that.”

“It’s a luck game, Thomas.” These were the days where you couldn’t stop smiling.

“Still think it’s rigged,” he mumbled under his breath. “I think we should play again. I have a new strategy that I think will get me that tiara this time.”

You hummed softly. “Maybe after lunch. And speaking of lunch, I should go help Lucy out. Set the table at the very least.”

Thomas glanced up at you and furrowed his brows. “Now don’t go and be too helpful. I swear my sisters already like you more than me. M’afraid they’re going to try and replace me.”

“Can you blame them?” You teased. 

He laughed and picked up his niece, holding her closely to his chest. Thomas walked over to you and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“No, I can’t. You’re perfect, sweetheart.”

And you’ve kept your distance since the breakup.

Once more you feel his arm laid around your waist like a laurel wreath or the best of your plans that had gone awry. 

If it wasn’t for the cool air drafting through the cracked open window, the discarded tie on the hardwood floor, and the steady breathing of his body beside you, you would’ve thought you were dreaming. Well, it was less of a dream and more of a nightmare that had been haunting you for months. 

Thomas shifted his weight on the bed, alerting you to his state of consciousness. You shut your eyes quickly, hoping he’d believe you were still asleep. It would be easier if he just left without saying anything. You could both pretend like this relapse had never happened. 

One hand gripping your waist, Thomas leaned forward and pressed his lips against your skin. 

He left kisses against your neck like he wanted to leave you with something more to remember him by than just the scars on your heart.

You kept your eyes closed when you felt his weight leave the bed. You kept your eyes closed when you heard him picking up his scattered clothes from around the room. You kept your eyes closed when you knew he was pausing in the doorframe of your bedroom, watching you “sleep” and wondering what things could’ve been like if he hadn’t messed up. 

It was only when you heard the front door of your apartment shut behind him that you opened your eyes.

Immediately, you wished you had kept them shut. The empty bed was an open wound that had never scabbed over. There was no trace of Thomas left in your apartment. No proof that all the events that had occurred the previous night hadn’t just been in your head. 

You didn’t cry. You would’ve welcomed tears with open arms at this point. Anything would be better with the cloying taste of emptiness that was left in the back of your throat. 

You don’t replay scenes from that night again and again and again and again in your head.

“We’ve both made mistakes, sweetheart.” The enchanting nickname you used to love was being twisted against you, and you hated it.

“Don’t compare me to you. I’m nothing like you.” The words were spat out like venom. 

“It takes two people to destroy a relationship!” Thomas’s voice raised a few levels.

“But I never slept with your secretary!”

The words struck him like a knife to the heart. Thomas hadn’t realized you had known about his affair. Of course you did. It all made sense. The guilt that had been building up for weeks now finally reached a breaking point when he saw the hurt look on your face.

Any anger Thomas held dissipated, and you turned away from him, not wanting him to see just how much he had broken you. Something in you wanted him to yell at you, tell you you were wrong. You knew the truth, but you desperately wanted Thomas to lie to you one more time. It could be good like that. It would be better. 

The denial that you prayed for never came. 

“Could you forgive me?” The words were nearly silent, like anything louder would break the fragile tension between the two of you. 

“I would do anything you wanted me to do. Of course I could forgive you. Just don’t ask me too. Because forgiving you would absolutely destroy me.” You told the truth and decided then and there that you didn’t like telling the truth. 

“So we’re over, then?” Thomas leaned against the counter, and you didn’t know this at the time, but if he hadn’t leaned against the counter, he was sure he would’ve collapsed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.” You wiped at the tears on your cheeks and hoped he couldn’t hear them in your voice.

“I guess this is goodbye.”

You never loved him.

Not when you came home after a long day to find him playing the violin. Especially not then. 

Thomas didn’t even notice when you walked into the apartment. He got like that when he was playing. He wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the sound of horsehair on strings, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You set down your bag on the kitchen counter and pulled out a chair. After dealing with your coworkers who were incapable of the smallest tasks, you were ready to collapse. Thomas’s music had a lulling affect, and you had almost fallen asleep right there in the kitchen when he stopped playing.

“Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t hear you come in,” Thomas said as he began putting his violin back in its case. “How was your day?”

You slowly opened one eye to see his smiling face. “It was good.”

It wasn’t completely a lie. When you would look back on that day, all you could remember was the evening you spent with Thomas. The sound of his violin playing some vaguely familiar tune. Your loud laughter that must’ve woken the neighbors. The food Thomas claimed to be “fine cuisine.”

“It’s delicious, sweetheart, don’t even try denying it,” Thomas pressed a few buttons on the microwave and it whirred to life.

“Thomas, it came out of a cardboard box, and the ‘cheese’ was a powder!”

“It’s an easy and efficient meal, if anything, I think that adds to the appeal.” Thomas may have been a star in the courtroom, but you were struggling to see how he ever won any arguments.

“I know you can cook. And I mean real food. Remember that time you made Italian for our anniversary?” You reminded him. 

“That was a good meal, wasn’t it?” Thomas mused. 

You nodded. “You made the pasta by hand. I think that was the best dinner I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I’m about to top that dinner.” Thomas pulled the hot bowl of macaroni out of the microwave and set it in front of you.

You looked down at the bowl, then back at Thomas. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“M’not.” He shook his head and handed you a spoon. Thomas leaned forward on the counter, waiting for your review to come in. 

You laughed and shook your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

What you meant by that was “I love you,” and Thomas knew.

You don’t love him.

If you had a nickel for every time you told yourself that, you would’ve been able to move out of this apartment that still felt like him. You’d have enough money to move out of this godforsaken city that always felt like him. 

He had left his mark on everything in your life. You couldn’t escape him. The coffeeshop near your work reminded you of him. Your favorite song on the radio reminded you of him. Board games reminded you of him. Your own kitchen reminded you of him. And every god damn box of Kraft macaroni and cheese reminded you of him. 

Even in a city with a population of 8.3 million people, you couldn’t avoid him. Occasionally, you’d see Thomas walking into a grocery store while you were on your way to the dry cleaners. All the glue, tape, and bandages you had used to put your heart together again would fall apart. 

You told yourself that one day you would get better. That one day you wouldn’t fall apart at the mere sight of him. Who knows, maybe one day you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him.

Thomas wasn’t a mess like you were, even though you hoped he would be. From what you’d heard from mutual friends, he seemed to be handling the break-up well. The knowledge that he was fine when you weren’t was another stab in the heart. 

But maybe those same friends told Thomas that you were doing fine as well. On all accounts, you looked like you were doing fine. It was only when you locked yourself away in your Thomas-free bedroom that you could really be honest with yourself.

And if tissues filled your room, who would know? You were the only one who had to face the unmade bedsheets and piles of unfolded laundry. If anyone asked, you kept your room spotless. 

And if you asked yourself, you would say that you didn’t love him anymore. 

The lies we tell ourselves.

#i will never ever stop writing angst #idk why i love it so much #i hope this fic hurt you in the best way #promise i'm writing TNR and FA too #but i just felt inspired to write this #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson imagine #imagine thomas jefferson #hamilton imagine #hamilton x reader #thomas jefferson angst #ANGST #imagine daveed diggs #Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs x reader

[2seokfan]

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 1

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

word count: 3.6k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary: 

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year?  So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a rollercoaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

note: Hi! This is my first fic ever! I don’t even know if anyone’s gonna read this but I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile so fuck it.

You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse on the couch.

“God my back hurts!” 

Honestly with the amount of random bodily aches you experience on a daily business you could pass for being 70 years old. But this time you knew where the pain stemmed from. You just had to fall asleep awkwardly after a night on your phone. And of course today was a work day and you slept past all THREE of your alarms. But you know that feeling when you sleep for a suspiciously long amount of time and something doesn’t feel right? That’s the sixth sense that saved your ass this morning because your internal body clock was like sweetie I think you’re late. 

You only had time to slap on some makeup, hoping it looked semi decent, and throw your greasy hair into a messy, but passable bun because no one wants to see an ugly receptionist. You had to skip your morning Starbucks drive-through routine because you’re about to be LATE, late so you grab your keys and start your car, booking it to work.

You work at a private hybrid clinic which pays a little better than most but that means you also have to deal with a lot of attitude from rich “owners” (you hate that word). And you sat weirdly at work today so that did nOThing to help your back pain. Also how come everybody decided to book an appointment today?? It’s Friday for god's sake why does everyone and their mothers decide it’s time to call the clinic and book a checkup. They get so mad at you when you say this whole month is filled. You can’t change the schedule though?? The calendar’s filled lady either get over it and settle for next month or fuck off (of course you don’t say that out loud cause you’ll get fired). Also someone yelled at you today because they didn’t like the magazine choices in the waiting room.

Anyways your day sucked and you couldn’t be happier being back in your tiny apartment to binge watch netflix stand-up comedies until you collapse. Well you say it’s your apartment but you actually have a roommate. She’s nothing like you though, she’s the epitome of responsibility. You agreed to live with her even though you met her through Craigslist because once you met her in person you deemed her genuine enough, and also found out she’s hardly ever at the apartment but she still pays rent on time?! You really hit the jackpot with her honestly. Cause you can be a little bit messy sometimes but even when she is home she never complains. The only negative side of having her as a roommate is that you never really had time to bond with her cause she’s so busy and over your league that even after a year you two still aren’t anything more than friendly acquaintances.

Alright time to get out of your work clothes and into nothing but your favorite oversized t-shirt with no pants on because that is what you deem home-appropriate attire. But before you turn on netflix your tummy is making “feed me” noises so it’s time to check the fridge. Damn no leftovers. Time to crack open one of those Trader Joe’s frozen meals you have stacked in the freezer. You blindly pick a box. Guess you’re having vegan tikka masala tonight. Not gonna lie though those frozen meals are actually not half bad. Or maybe you’ve been away from good home cooking for so long you’ve become desensitized? Who cares, you’re hungry. Also it’s Friday, so no harm in cracking open a bottle of wine right?

When you’re all settled on the couch with your favorite plush blanket on your legs, a random comedian on tv, and a full tummy, your mind drifts away. It’s Saturday tomorrow and you have the weekends off. Maybe you should do something fun for yourself to make up for the crap you had to deal with today. You text your best friend Karli. You know she’s awake since it’s only 10pm.

You: Hey girl wanna go to the beach or smth tmrw?? <3

Karli: Yaaas ok I don’t work!! What time?

You: and we can walk around all the fancy stores and get coffee from that place we love.

You: hmmm how bout meet there @11??

Karli: Sounds good sweetie want me to pick you up?

You: no its ok ill meet u there i need to buy groceries after

Karli: Kk love ya see you then!!!

You: love ya! night bby

Karli knows that when you say “go to the beach” you really mean walk along the beach and the nearby stores because it’s early June and prime tourist season. That means the sand is packed with people and their kids and the water’s probably filled with pee so you’re not really down for that. Also the expensive shops near the beach are so cute and you love walking around window shopping, pretending like you can actually afford any of the items on display.

The wine is now getting to you cause before you know it you find your eyelids getting heavy. You muster up your last ounce of strength to turn off the tv and force yourself out of the couch cause your poor back doesn’t need another excuse to keep hurting. As much as you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth, you have to because you don’t want makeup on your pillowcase tonight. And when you finally crawl into bed you knock out instantly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Oh fuck…”

You forgot that drunk you last night set an alarm today for 9am. Thank you drunk Y/N. 

Why 9am? Because you need to shower and get ready, plus the beach you’re going to is near the north part of the city, which is also the expensive part of the city, meaning it’s a LONG ways from where you live. But the stores are aesthetically pleasing and it contains both you and Karli’s favorite coffee shop so you’re willing to make the 25 minute drive. Karli doesn’t have to worry though because she lives a lot closer than you do. Girl has got her shit together. Honestly you’re just glad she decided to move back after graduate school cause the long distance friend thing sucks balls.

You hop in the shower and rinse yourself awake. The weather is perfect, warm but not too hot. Unlike many people who prefer to dress up for a nice outing, you’re just the opposite. You’ve been forced to dress in nice business attire with a full face of makeup all week. Hell no are you dressing up on your days off too. It’s a sweatpants and tank top kinda day so that’s exactly what you wear. Ever since college you’ve spoiled yourself into only wearing comfy clothes whenever you have the chance and it’s become a minor problem in your life. You have some perfectly nice jeans in the closet but you haven’t worn them in forever. And you’re not gonna wear them today either. And makeup? Who needs makeup? You’ll just go barefaced since you have no one to impress. Actually just kidding maybe a little concealer just to cover up a few rough spots but that’s IT. You’re still a little self conscious and you know you have to work on that but not today.

It’s now 10:15. You grab your purse from the couch, slip on your favorite pair of slides and head to your car. You’re the kind of person who absolutely needs music when you drive so you quickly start blasting your favorite playlist. Before you know it, you’re pulling up to the beach area. Parking is hard to find on the weekend but your lucky ass managed to squeeze into a street parking spot right as someone pulls out. You lock your car and make the trek to Cozy Coffeehouse, your favorite coffee shop hands down.

Karli is already here and she’s hopping up and down, waving at you. She looks super cute today in her little black dress and fishnets. She’s had the same taste since high school and you’re glad that even a Master’s degree hasn’t stopped her from dressing all punk on her days off. You jog over and give her a quick hug.

“Hey girl look at you!! You’re so cute!” You take in her makeup and you swear if she didn’t go the corporate route she definitely should have been a makeup artist. Her eyeshadow is amazing and you’ll never ever have the blending talent that she has, nor could you ever get your eyeliner to look that sharp.

“Aw thanks! You look comfy though I’m kinda jealous now maybe I should’ve dressed down.” 

“No I love your outfits! Besides, someone has to look nice in this relationship.”

You link arms and march into the cafe. It’s located near the fancy designer stores on a large hill overlooking the beach. When you step inside the whole atmosphere screams ‘cozy’, fitting its name perfectly. The interior is littered with mismatched sofas and armchairs but it somehow still looks aesthetically pleasing. Soft piano jazz is playing through speakers and when you step inside the delicious scent of freshly ground coffee beans immediately invades your nostrils.

You glance at their pastry display first. Today must be your lucky day because they have tiramisu and you absolutely love tiramisu but it’s usually sold out. No way in hell are you letting this chance slide, fuck breakfast norms you’re definitely getting a bite of that. Unfortunately you’re not a fan of sugary treats on top of sugary drinks so to balance things out you choose to order their house brew.

After you two order, you find a spot in one of the plush armchairs near the window and sit. You really are lucky today since window seats are usually taken. But not this time! You guys get to enjoy the gorgeous scenery displayed before you. The sun is bright, people are laying on the beach tanning, and kids are splashing each other with water. For the first time in awhile, you feel content with life, if only for a bit. 

Before long your orders are called out and you stand up to retrieve them. Once you’re settled, you break into conversation with Karli, eager to catch up on everything that happened since you two last spoke face-to-face. You talk about work, Karli’s boyfriend Sunny, that new pizza place that opened up near your apartment that actually has really shitty pizza.

“Like seriously how do you fuck up pizza that badly?” you exclaim in between generous bites of tiramisu.

“No I get you,” Karli responds, slurping her iced mocha frappuchino, “everybody knows what pizza is supposed to taste like, I mean it’s gotta take talent to actually fuck it up to the level you’re describing girl.”

“Exactly!!” You wave your arms in the air, wanting to physically demonstrate your frustration at the situation and your passion for good pizza.

“Anyways…” Karli gently sets her drink down and takes on a more serious tone. “How are you though, honestly.”

“Hmm, me?” You swallow your last bite of tiramisu, “I’m doing good. Works ok, life’s ok. You know. Everything’s… ok.”

“I get that everything’s ‘ok’ but you know I want you to be more than ok. I want you to be happy”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes. Bless this girl for being so soft-hearted.

She continues, “And when was the last time you dated? Like, what, 2 years ago??”

Of course she has to mention dating. Karli has always been a romantic. You? Not so much. Your brain tended to err on the logical, practical side, which is not always a good idea since it keeps you away from many potential relationships.

“I date!” You scoff, but you’re not convincing anybody, least of all yourself.

“Oh really?” Her eyes widen in mock surprise, “Tinder one night stands don’t count babe. You know what I mean.”

“Well you didn’t specify…” You mumble, trying to come up with any excuse to defend your pride. You know she’s just being a good friend and that she’s asking because she cares about you, so you don’t let her questions irritate you.

“Sweetie I’m not trying to make you feel bad and I’m sorry if it comes across that way. It’s just… you mean a lot to me and you’re my bestie and I just want to see you be happy.” She takes your hand from across the table and looks you in the eyes. “We don’t get to see each other as much as we used to, so when I do I want to check in on how you’re doing.”

Then she averts her eyes, which you find highly suspicious. “Also I may or may not have found someone who I KNOW will be a perfect match for you.”

“AHA I KNEW you were leading up to something!”

“Wait but hear me out. He’s an accountant and at first I was like hmmm is he too boring for Y/N? But then I realized I was judging him by his job and that’s not cool so I talked to him and he’s, like, actually super cute and super sweet and I think you two will get along so well!” She’s speaking very fast at this point, trying to squeeze out as much information as possible before you can interject. Then she finishes with one of her signature Karli smiles, big and wide and all teeth and she knows you can’t say no to that face.

“Dammit. Fine.” You lost this round. “Alright if he wants to meet up I won’t say no. How bout that?”

“Gee that’s so thoughtful of you Y/N.” Her tone is sarcastic but she’s still smiling so you know she means no harm.

After another half hour of conversation, locked in a heated debate about food again (this time she’s defending her stance that pineapple belongs on pizza), Karli’s phone rings. The sound scares the poor girl half to death, and watching her jump a mile from her couch had you snorting into your coffee mid drink.

She looks at the caller ID, muttering under her breath, “It’s Saturday what do they want?” then glances up with a sad little pout, “Sorry Y/N it’s work gimme a sec…”

From what you can hear on her side of the conversation, something has come up and she has to head to the office right away. 

“Ok I’ll be there in fifteen,” she hangs up and gives an exaggerated “Ughhhhh”. She takes one large gulp, finishing the last of her ultra sweet, ultra whipped frappuccino. “It’s like they can’t do anything when I’m not there.” She looks especially apologetic when her eyes land back on you, “I’m so sorry I have to cut this short…”

“Hey it’s ok! Duty calls ya know,” you give her a reassuring grin, hoping it passes for a smile instead of a grimace. You were really hoping to hang out today.

“No it’s not ok. We didn’t even get to walk around today! And I know how much you like to do that.” She stands up, slipping her purse onto her shoulder, “so next time I’ll plan a day where I guarantee I won’t get interrupted. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mk sounds good babe,” you give her a big hug, “Go get ‘em tiger!”

After she exits the cafe you finish the last bit of your coffee and glance out the window, staring at the people on the beach. Wow it’s really crowded down there today. You zone in on two kids attempting to build a sandcastle, but it’s too close to the water so the waves flatten it in two seconds. But it seems they didn’t learn their lesson because they keep rebuilding the castle in the same spot. Just move it further up little dudes.

You find yourself lost in thought again. Just because Karli’s suddenly busy doesn’t mean you don’t still have a whole day to yourself. You can walk around on your own. Also why not treat yourself to another drink? A fun one this time from their specials menu.

Ten minutes later you find yourself wandering around the various shops, hot hazelnut latte in hand, gazing at display after display of designer clothes and bags. Look, you may not be a huge fashion person, or have any expendable cash, but a girl can still appreciate art, especially when it’s laid out so nicely in front of you. 

Speaking of art, there’s an art gallery coming up that you absolutely love. You’ve always been too afraid to go inside because you’re the type of person who feels obligated to buy something if you enter a local store and you DEFinitely can’t afford anything there. So you opt to loiter outside, like some creep, looking a little too long at the featured art through the window. This time it’s an Impressionist style painting of a ship on hazy waters with a sunset in the background. You’re no artist but you can appreciate good quality work when you see it. The piece is mesmerizing and serene, transfixing you to the spot. Before you know it, you’ve been staring for 15 whole minutes.

While admiring the artist’s use of color on the display piece, you overhear a lady raising her voice not too far away, snapping you out of your trance. It sounds like drama, so being the nosy bitch that you are, you’re definitely gonna check it out, if only to satisfy your curiosity.

“What do you mean ‘no’?! You’ll be perfect for each other!! Where’s your owner I bet he’ll listen!” At this point the lady’s voice is sounding downright aggressive.

As you shuffle closer to the scene of the noise, you spot a middle-aged, blonde lady pointing her finger at two hybrid men, almost jabbing one of them in the chest with her sharp, ruby nails. Behind her stands a gorgeous female arctic fox hybrid who clearly belongs to her as she pats her owner’s shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“I’m sorry miss but we just aren’t interested.” The taller of the two hybrids with orange hair speaks up, gently pushing the lady’s hands away. “Please leave us alone.” He’s being surprisingly calm, even after getting yelled at in public.

“Yeah lady get out of our faces,” the other white and grey haired hybrid is definitely more agitated, crossing his arms as he huffs in annoyance. You don’t blame him since the blonde lady is being ridiculously rude.

You can’t really make out the two males’ faces, since they’re turned away from you, but they are obviously hybrids. Both having incredibly bushy, soft-looking tails and tall, pointy ears sticking out of their heads.

Even if you can’t see their expressions, you can tell they’re uncomfortable with the harassment. Since you’re still somewhat unaware of the context, you stay out of the argument but decide to keep an eye on the situation in case the lady steps out of line. You’re just slightly around the corner, able to stay a safe distance away so that no one, especially the lady, can catch you eavesdropping. Pretending to admire the Gucci purses displayed in front of the shop you’re now standing at, and almost choking at the price, you cautiously side-eye blondie as she refuses to back down from the hybrid boys.

“Listen here you rude little pets, I’m not leaving you alone until I see your owner. My Sylvia here,” she gestures to the fox hybrid behind her, “would make a perfect partner for you.” She pokes the orange haired hybrid again, “I’ve been searching so long for her to find a mate and I’m not giving you up! Now where the hell is your owner!”

What the fuck?! How dare this lady talk to them like that? And in public no less! You now know exactly why she’s yelling at them. Working at a private hybrid clinic has opened your eyes to the harsh world of hybrids, and their selfish, rich owners. It’s not uncommon for owners to negotiate with each other and breed their hybrids. If two pretty hybrids mate, their children can be sold for loads of money. It's cruel and disgusting, with many of the children sold off before they can even get to know their parents. You’re all too familiar with this tradition, often catching owners in the waiting room of your clinic discussing in whispers about buying and selling hybrid children as if they’re livestock.

“Hey what the fuck did you call us?!” The white and grey hybrid is now also raising his voice. “Listen you wrinkly bi…!” He is quickly silenced by the orange hybrid, who abruptly clamps his hand over his buddy’s mouth.

Orange hair clears his throat. “What he means is, we don’t appreciate the tone you’re using with us. Please leave us alone ma’am. We’ll be on our way. Goodbye.” They attempt to brush past her.

“Hey hold on a minute! I’m not done with you!!” This lady even has the balls to grab onto orange hair’s arm. “I demand to speak to your owner!” Then some sort of realization dawns upon her because her eyes go wide, then quickly narrow. “And where are your collars? Aren’t owned hybrids supposed to have collars on? You know I just might have to call Hybrid Services.” 

You can see the boys visibly tense at her words as she sports a satisfied smirk. Poor Sylvia is now gently tugging on her shirt. “Please calm down, miss…” she says desperately trying to remedy the situation.

Before you know it, and without any plan of action, you round the corner and march up to the boys, standing defensively in front of them.

“Um…” You gulp, then clear your throat, speaking in what you hope is a more confident tone. “Sorry I took so long guys! You wouldn’t believe the line at the coffee shop!”

Next

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

[falseroar]

Is This Your Card? Part 8: What Little Chef Saw

((The District Attorney runs into the Chef, who doesn’t know much about what happened last night. His little buddy, on the other hand, is a different story. In need of some fresh air, the attorney goes outside and runs into Damien, who’s feeling just as lost and confused as they are.

Link to the masterlist for the series.))

In the kitchen, you ran cold water over a rag dug out of one of the drawers and, with a wince, pressed it against your bruised eye. The excess water from the rag ran down your wrist and dripped onto your shirt, but it did feel good after the initial shock of the first touch.

“I thought I told you to stay out of my kitchen!”

You turned around to find the chef standing uncomfortably close. You backed away from him, or tried to, but your hips bumped into the counter behind you.

Following your stare, the chef lowered the knife in his hand and said, “I was about to start making some food when I heard a rat scurrying around in my kitchen.”

“Sorry, I just needed something for my eye,” you said, removing the compress for a second to show him.

He snorted with a barely suppressed laugh at the sight. “Man, that hunter really hit you, didn’t he? I’d offer you a steak, but I don’t want to waste good meat on you.”

The chef turned away from you and went to the island in the middle of the kitchen, where he had already laid out a cutting board and what looked suspiciously like leftover spaghetti. With an exaggerated grunt of effort, he raised his knife and brought the blade down on the cutting board with a smack before repeating the cut again and again.

Maybe it was cathartic, or maybe it was supposed to be intimidating, you weren’t sure, but you waited until after one of the swings against the defenseless noodles before speaking again.

“You don’t know why he hit me, do you?”

“Probably for asking stupid questions,” Chef answered before bringing the knife down with another crack. “I bet you’re here to ask me about last night. Well, you can tell that dick that I was busy cleaning up after that delicious meal I prepared, no thanks to any of you. It was one AM before I finally retired to my room. Took me forever to mop up all of that blood.”

“Blood?”

“You cook raw steak, you’re going to get some juices,” Chef answered with a wave of his knife. “Not that you would know, you barely touched any of my cooking!”

“…Sorry, I didn’t have much of an appetite last night,” you said. It wasn’t like you could tell him the silverware made it almost impossible. “It smelled really good though.”

“I know my stuff,” the chef said as he used the flat of his blade to push the pulverized noodles out of his way before pulling over some vegetables for chopping.

Even over the whack of the blade, you can make out the sound of the butler still sobbing down in the wine cellar, although the sound was faint enough you doubted the chef could hear it.

“Is the butler…is he okay?”

“You mean in the head? I don’t know, man, this place seems to attract weird people,” the chef said, his shrug indicating that he included himself in it.

“He seems to be taking Mark’s death pretty hard,” you said. Not that he was the only one, but you added, “Was he that close to him?”

“You really don’t know nothin’, do ya?” The chef paused in his dicing of lettuce to look you up and down before explaining what that was supposed to mean. “Mark, he helped me and that pompous clean freak out when we needed it most, and I ain’t ashamed to say it. Not for me to say what was going on with Benjamin, but after Easy Pickin’s went under, Mark was the only one willing to hire me. He’s cheap as hell, but at least he pays something.”

“Easy Pickin’s?” You knew that name.

“Restaurant I used to work at.”

“Wait, wasn’t that—”

The chef cut you off with a glare. “So you read about it in the paper, huh? Or were you one of the people howling to shut us down?”

You flinched at his choice of words and admitted, “No, I’d been there. Not as a—I don’t mean—”

The chef growled and you cleared your throat.

“I had contacts who liked to meet there, because of the…atmosphere.”

“And the damn good food.”

“Yeah. That too.”

You had been to Easy Pickin’s before, and knew exactly what kind of clientele they had served before the city shut them down. Vampires, ghouls, any relatively human-shaped persons that managed to live on the outskirts of society knew that the restaurant was the place to go for anyone with…special dietary needs. The candles on the tables provided ambience and enough low-lighting to pretend not to notice what the table next to you might be eating or drinking, although your nose picked up on enough details despite your best efforts to drown them out.

The chef sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I was the head chef there, where people knew what respect meant. We weren’t hurting anybody, but…”

“But people weren’t comfortable with the reminder that nonhumans live in the city too,” you finished for him. The wards on the city’s walls could force anyone who wanted to enter or exit the city to go through the official gates, but not all monsters could be picked out of a line that easily.

You personally knew there were ways to get around being spotted, especially for someone determined enough to risk everything on a new life.

You weren’t sure if it was the words or something in your tone when you said them, but the chef gave you a new, studying look before he spoke again.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you check with my Little Chef, see if he’s picked up anything that could help.”

“I’m sorry, your little…?”

You trailed off as the chef placed a proud hand on a small statuette that looked remarkably like him, down to the long tangle of hair trailing down over its shoulder, although you had yet to see the chef give a smile like that. You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready to see him smile like that statue.

“A witch gave Little Chef here to me to keep an eye on my kitchen as a gift, because my pies are just that good. If anything happened here, he can show you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s some kind of scrying spell or something, looks for anything out of the ordinary. I don’t know, magic ain’t my thing.”

“No, I mean you’ll let me look at it?” The chef could have easily not told you about it, or shown it earlier to prove his innocence in front of everyone if he thought it would help. “Why now?”

“…You know those cards everyone got last night? How Mark’s outed him as a werewolf?”

“Yes, but Mark wasn’t—”

“This is what I got.” The chef held up a card, on which was typed the words “Easy Pickin’s.” “Seein’ what Mark had, I guess that whoever sent those cards thought I would be ashamed of where I used to work, like I would ever regret something I put my heart and soul into.”

The chef jabbed a finger into your chest, leaving you glad that he at least didn’t use the knife still held in his other hand. “Which is why I want you to find whoever’s behind all of this, so I can look ‘em in the eye and spit in their face.”

“…Got it,” you said. It wasn’t the most admirable reason, not when the person in question was most likely a literal murderer, but you weren’t about to talk him out of it.

The chef turned back to his meal prep with a more or less positive grumble, leaving you staring at the statuette sitting on the corner.

How, exactly, was this thing supposed to work?

You glanced at the chef out of the corner of your eye, but he had stopped paying attention to you and you suspected that asking him would just lead to more angry outbursts and knife waving. Better to save that as a last resort.

You leaned closer and placed a hand on the statue’s head to turn it in search of some kind of device or clue to activate it, but the second your skin touched the oddly warm ceramic, the room around you changed.

It was still the kitchen, but dark and silent. An awareness in the back of your mind that you weren’t familiar or comfortable with told you that it was just after one AM last night, the still glistening floors suggesting that the chef really had just finished his mopping. You tried to turn your head, but the movement did nothing to change the angle of what you were seeing.

Out of the ordinary, Chef had said. Like someone entering the kitchen.

At your thought, your vision blinked before returning to the same room, the sense in the back of your mind telling you that it was now 1:35. Only instead of an empty kitchen, you saw Benjamin loom large in your peripheral vision as he walked past the statue on the counter. You tensed as the butler leaned to look down the hall in the direction of the chef’s room and then around him before opening the door—

Of the fridge.

The butler proceeded to pull a glass bottle out of the fridge and pour himself something before abruptly returning the bottle to the fridge and leaving the room at speed, glass in hand.

The sound of approaching footsteps that scared the butler off proved to belong to the Colonel, who stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked around as if searching for something before lazily scratching at the back of his neck with the barrel of his gun. The gun which he placed on the counter next to the statue before raiding the fridge himself, during which he popped something you could not see straight into his mouth. Then he shrugged and walked out of the room.

Leaving his gun behind.

Your heart leapt and you willed the statue to go to the next time someone entered the room, but when your vision skipped again it was to find the light of dawn streaming into the room as the butler entered through the same door he left by the night before, duster in hand.

At the sight of the gun on the counter he sighed and picked it up with two fingers before calling for the Colonel on his way out.

If no one exchanged the bullets in the Colonel’s gun then, that meant it must have happened during the party last night. Of course, everyone was distracted enough that still left a wide window to work with, but there was something else that bothered you about what the statue had seen.

Benjamin had made a remark about the kitchen closet, the one very clearly in view all night, and the spare master key contained within it. The key that someone would have had to use to get into Abe’s room and his nightstand to get to his gun.

At the thought of the monster hunter, Little Chef began to jump back through previous nights, giving you scattered visions of other rooms in the house devoid of anything interesting until it stopped at a view through the kitchen’s back door, the awareness in the back of your mind putting it at three nights ago, on the 7th. Through open blinds, you could see a figure still undeniably recognizable even in silhouette.

“Abe!” Mark called out, his voice sounding tinny and distant through the statue, and you felt the breath leave your chest in a sharp gasp.

“Mark,” Abe said warmly, taking his hand. “Good to see you.”

“Great to see you,” Mark answered. “Look, I’ll cut right to the chase: Chef, Butler, good?”

“Chef’s an asshole,” Abe said, earning a nod in acknowledgement from Mark, “But he’s clean. The butler, the new guy, also clean.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mark said.

Their conversation was cut short as they moved out of sight of the door and Little Chef, leaving you to step back from the statue and into the present.

“I don’t…I—” You shook your head and looked around, but the chef seemed to have left while you were distracted. The timer over the oven, from which a smell wafted that made your empty stomach turn with a wave of nausea more than hunger, suggested it would be some time before he came back.

With no one around, you walked over to the closet and opened the door to find the spare master key hanging on its hook. You briefly considered taking it, but realized that could just lead to more issues if someone found it on you.

But if it was here and there was no sign of anyone returning it since last night, then…

A brief pain throbbed inside of your skull, made worse by the smell coming from the oven that you couldn’t ignore, too strong and overwhelming just like the tick of the clock on the wall, the heady odor of polish the butler seemed to have used everywhere, the scent of cleaning fluid used to mop the floor last night that still lingered on the tiles, the voices of the chef, the butler, and the colonel arguing in the distance after a chance encounter in the hall, every smell and every sound in the house—

It was just too much.

You stumbled out the back door, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to stay in the moment, to stay in control, while you could feel the tingle in your spine and along every nerve, the familiar precursor to the change.

Not here, not now.

Outside, in the fresh air, you took a deep, steadying breath and then another. You’d had moments like this before, where your whole body reacted to a situation and decided “wolf” was the best option, but never this bad or for this long. It had been a constant since you entered the house last night, as though your whole being was trying to turn in and defend itself. From what, you didn’t know, but the last few hours had sent the sensation into overdrive. You had already changed once without meaning to, last night apparently, and that was before…

Before everything else.

When Damien found you sitting on one of the benches beneath the metal gazebo near the stairs some time later, you still felt at a complete loss. A sentiment echoed on your friend’s face when he spotted you, before sighing and taking a seat beside you.

“Look, I’m sorry you saw that argument with the Colonel,” he said, surprising you. “I lost my temper and it wasn’t right.”

“Are you sure I’m the one you should be apologizing to?”

Damien sighed again. “He must be in shock. The Colonel’s an eccentric, it’s his best quality and his worst. But he’s my friend, and…so was Mark.”

The cane passed back and forth between Damien’s hands, his focus at times more on the silver-topped piece of wood than anything else as though it was the only thing within his reach that he could control.

“I know I’m supposed to be a leader in this scenario, but I can’t help but feel lost. I’ve known Mark for years, since we were kids. And he’s just gone?”

His voice broke and you found your hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him in your own silent way.

“I-I’m sorry, I know Mark was your friend too—”

“You don’t…Please stop apologizing to me, Damien.” You felt the strain in your voice as your hand slipped off of his shoulder. “You have every right to feel as lost and confused as the rest of us, if not more. It just…the more I look at it, the less any of this makes any sense. Those cards…”

“Were upsetting, as they were clearly meant to be,” Damien said. There was something in his tone, but before you could ask what his cards were, he continued, “Was that…the card Mark had in his pocket, was it…?”

You nodded, unable to even look in his direction. Your hands clasped together as you leaned forward, fighting to remain human as you said, “Yeah. Yeah it was. You were right, I should have told him, before—before…Maybe he would—”

“My friend.” You felt Damien’s hands on your shoulders, irresistibly turning you toward him. You could see his cane lying on the bench behind him, but your eyes resisted meeting his own for as long as they could. “Look at me. That is not a road of thought you should ever go down. We cannot change what we did or did not do any more than we can change what happened last night.”

“So, what, I’m just supposed to forget Mark was killed with a silver bullet while holding my card? That if I hadn’t been so terrified to even look at it again, I might have realized it was gone? That maybe if I had tried to talk to him last night instead of trying to drink my thoughts away, maybe he wouldn’t have been alone with a killer? That maybe if I had ever tried to tell him, maybe I would at least know…know if he…”

“Mark would have understood,” Damien said with a quiet certainty that you could never understand, ignoring the prickle of fur beginning to rise under his hands, the elongation of your teeth. “I believe that completely. Just as I believe we can figure this out, together. We can choose to keep moving forward, if for nothing else than to bring this murderer to justice.”

A rumble of thunder overhead distracted you both, leaving you to wonder if underneath a metal structure was really the best place to be with a storm coming.

“You know what I always say—”

“Don’t you dare—”

“Life is ours to choose.” Damien smiled as you pushed him away with a groan at his far too often repeated motto. You still felt raw inside, the pain of the last few hours still too close and fresh to fully process, but being here with him helped. As if you could stay in control for a little longer.

You knew, no matter what shape you were in at the moment, Damien could always calm you down and bring you a little closer to human again.

((End of Part 8. Thanks for reading! ...You know, it’s always bothered me how we were able to see those recordings on Little Chef in WKM. Does he have a screen on the back of his head, or like a cable to connect to a monitor, or...? So yeah, this version’s just a magic plot device.

Link to Part 9: On its Own?

Tagging: @silver-owl413 @skyewardlight @withjust-a-bite @blackaquokat @catgirlwarrior @neverisadork @luna1350 @oh-so-creepy @weirdfoxalley @95fangirl @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette @geekymushroom @cactipresident @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist @avispate @missksketch))

#markiplier #fanfiction #wkm au #werewolf au #monster hunter au #wkm district attorney #wkm chef #wkm damien #wkm detective #damien & y/n #doubts and regrets #a little closer to human #but what do you do when he's gone?

[ericsonclan]

An Unfortunate Splotch

Summary: Sophie and Renata have one of their usual evening hangouts when something unfortunate happens.

Read on A03:

“Oh, you have a Sandshrew figurine?’ Renata asked Sophie who was busy putting away some of her art supplies.

Sophie looked over at her best friend before walking over to stand beside her. “Yeah, I’ve always loved Sandshrew ever since I was a kid. I always thought it looked so cute and cool whenever it attacked.” Sophie held the figurine in her hand with a fond smile. “Sometimes when I was younger, I would pretend to be a Sandshrew and wrap my arms around my legs and just roll on the floor,”

Renata burst out laughing at the story. Sophie tried to defend herself but quickly devolved into a fit of giggles as well.

“Don’t you have a Pokemon figurine in your room too?” Sophie placed her figurine back with care.

“Yeah, of Kecleon, although it’s missing one of its arms from an unfortunate playtime gone wrong,” Renata took a step back, preparing to tell her wild tale. “You see it all started when I was ten years old and-” She was suddenly cut off when the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house.

“The pizza!” Sophie ran towards her bedroom door, booking it down the hallway. Her footsteps could be heard as they stomped their way down, desperate to get the pizza even a moment faster.

Renata gave a small chuckle. Sophie sure loves her food.

Renata looked around her friend’s room, hoping to find something to entertain herself for the few short minutes she would be gone. Her eyes searched around when she noticed a few photo frames on Sophie’s desk.

There was one on the far right that had her and her two siblings. Tenn stood in the middle making a heart symbol with his hands while Sophie and Minnnie stood on opposite sides of him, each forming a half of a heart. The photo had captured Sophie’s face mid-laugh while Minnie had her usual gentle smile on her face. Renata’s own smile grew when she looked at the picture. She really did love Minnie’s smile.

To the left of the picture frame was another one where Sophie’s bright smile shone through, her arm thrown around Minnie’s shoulder who seemed to be laughing about something her twin had just said. Renata’s eyes wandered some more before landing on the art supplies Sophie had tried to put away in time. A half-done sketch of Prisha laid on the table.

Renata moved away from the desk, bouncing around as she waited for Sophie. She sure is taking a long time for pizza. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed a collection on one of the walls covered with art. Sophie had told her about this before. ‘It’s my most prized possession: all the art that Tenn and Minnie have drawn for me over the years!’ Renata remembered Sophie’s proud warm smile when she told her about it.

Renata was about to take a closer look at one of the drawings when the door creaked open. There in the doorway was Sophie who carried two pizza boxes in her arms. Under both of her arms were the drinks for the two of them. Her toes on her right foot were wrapped around the doorknob, making it obvious to Renata how she had succeeded in carrying everything and opening the door.

“Hey, sowwy, I wanted to grab the dwinks,” Sophie’s words were slightly muffled by the paper plates that she held in her mouth. Renata ran over and grabbed the pizza from Sophie who thanked her before closing the door again. Renata slid on the floor with her socks, landing in the middle of the room and placing down their meal while Sophie walked over and placed down a Fanta where she was planning to sit.

“Here you go,” Sophie pulled the other drink from under her arm and handed it over to Renata. It was Jamaica soda, the brand which Renata swore was the best she had ever tasted. Renata plopped down in her spot, taking a long swig before looking into the pizza boxes.

They had decided to go for their usual order: one large pepperoni pizza and one medium pizza: half cheese and half whatever weird combination that the two had come up with. The one they had landed on today was pineapple and anchovies. Renata snatched up the bizarre pizza and took a large bite from it. “Mmm, this is so delicious,”

Sophie looked suspicious at her friend’s declaration but took a slice anyway in the off chance that it was truly delicious.

“It’s so-” Renata’s next sentence was interrupted by the look on Sophie’s face. It twisted in disgust after she had taken a huge bite.

“Disgusting,” Sophie gave a sad sigh, tossing the piece back and then walking over to her desk, opening up a drawer. “Add it to our list of busts.” Sophie scratched off the idea from their pizza list.

“Every pizza is a learning experience,” Renata leaned on her arms and looked back at Sophie.

“Very true,” Sophie slid over to her spot and sat down. “Now let’s get to the good stuff!” Sophie pushed aside the first pizza box and moved to the second one where piping hot delicious pepperoni pizza awaited. Sophie’s eyes lit up when she saw the pizza. She grabbed up a slice and demolished it in seconds.

Renata chuckled as she snatched up a slice, looking over at Sophie. “Isn’t it dangerous to wear white while eating pizza?” She had a mischievous smile on her lips.

Sophie looked up at her for a moment then down at her outfit. She had gone with one of her more playful, artsy shirts, one she made with tie dye. All the different shades of blue, green and red danced colorfully on the shirt. She had also decided to wear white pants today for some reason.

“Ehh,” Sophie shrugged, stuffing another slice in her mouth. “I like to live dangerously when it comes to food,”

The two continued to talk about random topics while they ate their pizza. It became abundantly clear that eating pizza while talking was a dangerous task since not once but twice Renata had spit up her drink or dropped some of her food at one of Sophie’s jokes.

“Well,” Renata brushed her hands together, knocking away any remaining crumbs off her hands, “I believe you know what time it is,” A serious expression took over her face.

Sophie glanced over, locking eyes with Renata, her own face growing serious as well. “You better watch out, Renata,” A playful smile appeared on Sophie’s lips. “I feel like luck is on my side today,”

“Ha!” Renata jumped up to her feet and walked over to Sophie’s bed which had a deck of Spongebob cards on it. “Go fish doesn’t require luck,” Renata tossed over the cards which Sophie caught with ease. “It takes skill!”

Sophie quickly took out the cards, shuffling them a few times before dealing seven cards to both herself and Renata. The two remained quiet for a few seconds while they checked their hand to see if there were any matches. Renata let out a happy cry, dramatically putting aside a pair of cards. Sophie gave a confident smirk when she also had a match. Refilling their hands, they started the game.

“Do you have… any sevens,” Sophie’s eyes shot up to study Renata’s who had a mischievous smile on her face.

“Go fish!”

Sophie gave a sad sigh, drawing a card from the pile. Renata took a few seconds before starting her turn. Her eyes focused on Sophie, trying to get her to crack and reveal what cards were in her hand.

“Do you have any...” Renata took a sip from her drink, “Nines?”

Sophie grumbled, causing Renata’s smile to grow when she took the nine from Sophie.

“See, skills,” Renata showed off her two pairs with pride.

“Just you watch,” Sophie looked closely at her cards, “Do you have any twos?”

Renata reluctantly gave her card over and just like that they were tied again. The match continued on similarly until it was the final few cards.

Renata hid behind her cards before asking the question that would lose or win her the game. “Do you have any kings?” Sophie’s annoyed groan made Renata jump up. “Yes!” Renata pumped her fist before strolling over to Sophie’s desk, pulling out another piece of paper. Adding a line to her side of the paper, she looked back at her best friend with a cocky smile. “Looks like we’re all tied up again,”

“Ha! Not for long!” Sophie pointed her finger towards Renata. “I’m gonna beat you in the next round.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Renata placed her hands on her hips. Sophie and her stared at each other with competitive expressions when suddenly Sophie’s changed.

“Oh, I need to save a slice for later,” Sophie ran over to the box, picking up a pepperoni slice and her paper plate before placing it on her bed for safekeeping. “Alright,” Sophie played with her cap for a second, “Let’s go.”

The game wasn’t much different from the first one. Each time one of them got a match they would boast to the other only for moments later to feel the same boastfulness on them when the other got a match. It was a close game once again.

This time the question that would win or lose the game belonged to Sophie. Her eyes looked over her card at her best friend who was swaying back and forth with impatience. “Do you have any queens?”

Renata’s face remained blank for a second. “Besides Minnie? Yes, in fact, here she is,” Renata flicked the card towards Sophie who fumbled around to try and catch it only for it to fall to the floor. Renata fell on her back, sighing in defeat.

Sophie gave a hearty chuckle, putting down a point for herself and continuing to laugh all the way over to her bed. She turned sharply on her heel and looked at Renata who was lazily sprawled out on the floor. “Guess that means I’m the champion,” Sophie gave a smug look before sitting down, immediately realizing her mistake when she did so. An awkward splotching sound emitted from her bed. She had landed directly on her slice of pizza. “Noooo!’ Sophie cried out at her fatal mistake.

Renata’s face lit up at her best friend’s blunder. She pointed at Sophie, bursting out laughing, so much so that she had to clutch her sides from how hard she was cackling.

“It’s not funny,” Sophie crossed her arms while glaring at Renata. “I really liked these pants,”

Suddenly the door slammed open. Minnie stood there with a concerned expression on her face.“Sophie! Are you okay?”

Sophie jumped to her feet and clutched her butt, hoping to hide the embarrassing stain. “Minnie, don’t look at me right now!” Sophie’s voice squeaked at the end. She looked at Minnie for a few seconds before a plan formulated in her mind. “I need your pants!”

“What?” Minnie moved further into the room, a confused look covering her face. “Why?”

“No reason, but I need them! Please, just give me your pants!”

Renata leaped up to her feet at the suggestion. “Yeah, take off your pants!”

Minnie’s face took on a blush at the implication her girlfriend had jumped to.

“Renata!” Sophie hissed “No!”

Renata looked back at her friend with a smug look. “Yessss.”

“Why do you need my pants, Sophie? You have more than one pair of pants.”

Minnie’s suggestion made Sophie think about her options and realize how dumb she had been. She sighed in defeat before walking past her sister towards her dresser to get some new jeans. Minnie’s eyes widened when she saw the red stain on Sophie’s pants. “Oh wait, Sophie, did you-”

“What? No!” Sophie waved her hand that held her new jeans. “This is pizza sauce. I sat on a slice of pizza.”

Renata started to giggle again. A small playful smile appeared on Minnie’s face at the news. “How’d that happen?”

“I-” Sophie paused. “I’m going to get changed,” She opened the door and walked into one of the bathrooms to change. Rushing down the stairs, Sophie slipped on the staircase while she struggled to get the white pants to the washer in time before they were completely ruined. After she had set the washer to the right setting she ran back up the stairs, returning in time to overhear Renata telling the tale of what had happened.

“So, that’s how Sophie got a pizza butt!”

“Gee, thanks Renata,” Sophie sat down from across the couple with a sigh.

“Hey, so my gig fell through tonight. If you want you could invite Marlon over and we could all watch a movie?” Minnie suggested with Renata wrapped in her arms.

“Shit, sorry your gig fell through,” Sophie gave a sympathetic look. “But yeah, I’d love that,” Sophie bounced up to her feet, running over to her phone to send a quick text. Marlon immediately responded, sounding excited for a movie night. A happy smile appeared on Sophie's face when she turned to face the others. “He says he’s down for it!”

“Whoo!” Renata lifted her arms above her head. “Movie night and cuddles! There’s nothing better,”

Minnie smiled down at her girlfriend before looking over at her sister who seemed just as excited for movie night. It was sure to be fun.

#twdg #twdg renata #twdg sophie #twdg minnie #twdg minerva #twdg minata #fanfic #sophie renata brotp

[vexedtonightmares]

last dance (elu ballet au) chapter sept

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.  

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii.

ao3

Dimanche 17:52 

Neither of them had spoken about the night before. Lucas had awoken on his bed, note laid on the pillow beside him that read: Thanks for the homework help, I’ll be in the studio all day catching up but don’t forget to eat - Eliott. He wondered if Eliott had placed him on his bed, or if he’d unknowingly done so himself at some point during the night. There was a flutter in his stomach at the thought of Eliott laying him down on his bed, a flutter he chalked up to embarrassment.

Lucas had his appointment with the nurse to track his eating and sleeping habits earlier that morning, and she’d tasked him to complete the same form he filled out the week prior for the next month to help him start to stay on track. Both of them were pleasantly surprised by the amount of sleep he’d gotten, but she was still wary of his food intake. He tried not to be annoyed with her concerns, but it was hard not to be when he still didn’t think anything was really wrong. 

He had been given the go ahead to start booking extra studio time again, but she urged him to limit it so he wouldn’t overwork himself again. Surprisingly, he hadn’t been too upset about the condition, accepting it with ease. If he could perform the way he had in class for the whole week he wasn’t allowed extra practice time, maybe he didn’t need as much as he’d thought. 

A pit grew in his stomach when he remembered that he wouldn’t be the Prince during practices anymore now that Eliott was feeling better. While he was actually a bit excited to partner with Imane again, nothing compared to dancing the role he’d always dreamed of in the way he’d always dreamed of dancing it. 

There was a knock on the door and Lucas frowned up from where he’d been scrolling through his phone on the couch. Most of his friends would have texted him first, or just barged in. He stood up with a small sigh and made his way over to open the door, blinking in surprise when he did.

“Uh, what are you all doing here?” he asked Imane, Sofiane, and Idriss. Idriss didn’t even go there. Imane pushed through without so much as a hello, opening up his fridge and searching through it. 

Sofiane gaze Lucas a tentative smile as he followed her, Idriss following him. Lucas closed the door slowly, turning to face the three of them, question in his eyes. “Hey, Lucas, we’re here because…” he prompted, and Sofiane was the one who answered. 

“Eliott told us to come over and make dinner together. Isn’t he here?” he asked, looking towards Eliott’s closed door. 

“No…”

“Oh,” Sofiane said, looking a bit uncomfortable. It wasn’t like they weren’t friends, but Sofiane and Eliott were pretty close, and everyone knew how Lucas felt about Eliott. God knows all the things Eliott had probably said about Lucas over the years too. 

But Eliott wasn’t there, and Lucas really didn’t have a problem with Sofiane when it came down to it, so he just shrugged to himself and hopped up to help them with whatever they were doing. Idriss gave him a nod of acknowledgement, nothing more or less. Lucas appreciated it all the same. They’d met a few times in the past but Idriss was, again, one of Eliott’s friends, so they never really had a reason to hang out. He’d never in a million years say it out loud, but he’d actually had a crush on Idriss a few years back. 

“So what are we making?” Lucas asked, taking up his place next to Imane. She looked at him a bit weirdly, as if she was wondering why he hadn’t kicked them out or used the time to complain about Eliott. 

She nodded down to the recipe she’d laid on the table. “It’s a Morroccan dish, the recipe is from Sofiane’s mother.”

The recipe confused him, but the picture at the top looked delicious, so he nodded along. “Right on. What can I do?”

“Ok, who are you and what did you do with Lucas Lallemant?” she asked, cutting up some vegetables. “You’re never this agreeable.”

He shrugged. He didn’t really know why he was being so agreeable either. For some reason he’d just been in a good mood that day. “Got a good night’s sleep, I guess,” he said by way of explanation, “Take it while it lasts.”

“Oh, I intend to.” She handed him a peeler and some carrots. “Do you know how to peel carrots?”

“Of course,” he scoffed. He was quite a good cook when he wanted to be, thank you very much. Sofiane smirked and leaned over to Lucas. “She’s just making you do that because she can’t peel a carrot to save her life,” he whispered conspiratorially, but Imane still heard him. 

“Shut up!” She sounded offended, but her grin gave her away. Lucas always noticed that she smiled more when Sofiane was around, he’d definitely called her out on it a few times, but she never confirmed or denied whether she had feelings for him. It was quite obvious he had feelings for her— he couldn’t take his eyes off her for a moment— and Lucas found himself smiling. Whatever happened between them, Lucas was hoping for the best. 

“So, uh, Idriss,” Lucas began, trying desperately to include Idriss in conversation. Idriss was the only one not helping prepare the meal, sitting at the counter on his phone. “Why are you here?”

Idriss turned off his phone and raised his eyebrows. Lucas’ face reddened, realizing he’d probably come off a bit rude. “I didn’t mean—” he backtracked, Idriss cutting him off with a low laugh.

“It’s ok, Lucas, I understood what you meant.” Yeah, Idriss was still very handsome. If he wasn’t completely off limits, Lucas might have fantasized a little bit about him. Of course, he was nowhere near as beautiful as— no. Lucas stopped himself before he could finish the thought, turning his attention back to Idriss. Handsome Idriss. “I’m here because it was this, or have our parents attack me once again for not being a success like perfect Imane over here.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned in return, despite the harshness of his words. Having a functional family was an odd thing indeed. Lucas envied it more than he could articulate. How Idriss could talk so casually of his parents “attacking” him, even though they weren’t throwing him to the ground so hard his ribs cracked inside his chest.

His pulse quickened as the thoughts invaded his mind, memories flashing faster than he could process. His father’s hand gripping his wrist so hard it nearly snapped, going to school with bruises he couldn’t hide and getting the reputation of the ‘clumsy’ kid when he knew he was anything but, Eliott’s brows furrowed in concern when he started flinching every time Eliott came close but neither of them ever addressing it. 

One of their pots clanged on the stove and Lucas nearly jumped out of his skin, accidentally cutting his hand with the peeler in the process. “Fuck,” he hissed, lifting his hand to see the damage. 

Imane was looking at him with concern. “Lucas, are you ok?”

No. “Yeah, sorry, zoned out for a second. I’m going to grab a bandage from the bathroom, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He hurried away without another word, shutting the bathroom door behind him and sinking to the floor. His thoughts were spiraling and he did everything he could to make them stop. He remembered a technique his mother had told him years ago, to distract him from the physical pain and the emotions that came with it. A way to ground himself. Three, three, three. Three things he could see, three things he could hear, three things he could feel. 

He saw the white tile of the bathroom floor zigzagging in its diamond pattern, he saw a toothbrush on the counter, Eliott’s from the look of it, he must have forgotten to put it back in its container that morning, and he saw their shower curtain detailed with what looked like small raindrops. 

He could hear the air conditioning whirring in the back of his mind, he could hear his own breathing, steadying slightly as he noticed it, and he could hear his friend’s voices, probably talking about him. 

He could feel the door pressed against his back, he could feel a small tingling in his hand from where the peeler had sliced a small cut, not too deep, but deep enough, and he could feel his eyelashes pressing down onto his cheekbones as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Slowly, he opened them, feeling more present in his body. He glanced at the cut, noticing it was bleeding a bit more than he’d thought, but not so much a bandage wouldn’t suffice. He rummaged through their drawers until he found a package of bandages, washing his hand before folding one around the cut with much more ease than he’d expected. 

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror when he finished, eyes raking over his figure from his head to where the mirror cut off at his waist. He looked a bit like he’d seen a ghost, and in some ways he had, so he splashed some water on his face to try to counteract it. 

When he emerged back into the living area, Imane, Sofiane, and Idriss went quiet immediately, which confirmed his earlier assumption that they’d been talking about him. Maybe he would have cared any other day, but he didn’t have the energy to care at that moment.

“Sorry about that,” he said, forcing a smile, “Guess I can’t peel carrots after all.”

Imane gave him a small grin, her eyes asking if he was all right. He appreciated her concern, and tried to convey that to her, but he also reassured her that he was fine with his eyes. She looked reluctant, but let it go. Sofiane pretended to sigh dramatically. “Looks like I have to do everything around here,” he said, picking up the peeler and continuing where Lucas had left off. 

For the most part, Lucas sat at the counter with Idriss, watching while Sofiane and Imane worked their magic in the kitchen. He and Idriss sent each other sly, or maybe not so sly given the glares received from Imane, glances every now and again, noticing how Sofiane and Imane worked so seamlessly together, anticipating each other’s needs before they needed them. It was a dance of its own, one Lucas was endlessly entertained by in the best way possible. 

The door opened with a small creak and the four of them turned to look at the intruder, who ended up not being an intruder at all. Eliott looked slightly shocked to see the four of them there, but his shock was quickly replaced by a bright smile. “Oh, hey, you’re here early!” 

Imane frowned, looking at the clock on the microwave. “You said to be here at 18h on the dot. We showed up on time, you’re the one strolling in an hour late.”

“I’m pretty sure I said 19h,” Eliott said adamantly. 

“Pretty sure you didn’t,” Imane shot back, raising her eyebrows. Sofiane, Idriss, and Lucas looked on in confusion as Imane stared directly into Eliott’s eyes clearly gleaning whatever information she wanted from them and causing Eliott to blush. 

He coughed and hid his face. “I’m going to shower quickly, then I’ll be ready to eat.”

“Who said you get to eat with us when we did all the work?” Idriss teased, causing Imane to scoff. 

“Please, you did less than Eliott,” she laughed, and he couldn’t argue. Eliott disappeared into his bedroom, coming out a moment later with clean clothes before disappearing back into the bathroom. Lucas’ eyes followed him the whole way, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Sofiane narrowed his eyes when Lucas turned back around, and Lucas looked away innocently. He was only watching Eliott because he hated him, of course. 

The four of them made idle conversation while Sofiane and Imane finished cooking, the dish coming together quite masterfully. It smelled so delicious that Lucas really didn’t want to wait for Eliott to eat. 

Finally, though, Eliott emerged from the bathroom, wet hair somehow still defying gravity. He was just wearing a hoodie and sweatpants but he still made Lucas feel a bit inadequate. 

There wasn’t enough room for all of them at the kitchen counter, so they moved into the living room, Eliott, Lucas, and Idriss on the couch and Sofiane and Imane on one of their chairs and beanbags, respectively. Lucas tried to ignore the fact that Eliott was sandwiched between him and Idriss, thigh close to pressing against Lucas’. 

Imane was looking at Lucas weirdly, but he ignored her as well, instead turning all his focus to his food. It was every bit as delicious as he’d expected it to be, and he couldn’t help but be impressed by Sofiane and Imane’s cooking skills. 

“Do you like it?” Eliott asked him conversationally and he nodded vigorously, throwing a thumbs up Imane’s way. She smiled bashfully at his response, playing at off like he hadn’t complimented her at all. 

“It’s really great,” he said once his mouth wasn’t full. “The carrots really pull it together nicely,” he added with a small laugh. She rolled her eyes with a quiet laugh and Sofiane joined in a moment later. 

Eliott’s eyes flicked between the two of them. “Am I missing something?”

“Just how bad your roommate is at peeling carrots,” Idriss said with a shrug. 

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “I am not. I just zoned out for a minute. I’m still better than Imane.”

Sofiane burst into laughter but Imane did not look amused, pointing her fork at him. “I’m coming for you Lallemant, I hope you know that. Next time I make dinner for you, you’d better watch out for poison.”

“Oh, please, you’d never get rid of me. You love me too much as a partner.” He shot her a toothy grin that she ignored. 

“Eh, you’re alright,” she said, making him smile wider. 

Idriss whistled. “Wow, Lucas, that might be the greatest compliment I’ve ever heard her give anyone.”

She threw one of the pillows on her chair at her brother, hitting him square in the face. Lucas raised his hand to cover his mouth as he laughed and Eliott’s eyes zeroed in on it, changing from amused to worried. He set his plate in his lap and grabbed Lucas’ hand, fingers brushing his bandage gently. “What happened?”

“Carrot peeler accident,” Lucas said gravely. He smiled a bit at how concerned Eliott still looked, pulling his hand away and adding, “It’s barely a cut, like I said, I just got distracted.”

“Ok,” Eliott said hesitantly. 

“Ok,” Lucas mimicked, making Eliott smile again. They smiled at each other for a moment before Imane cleared her throat and Lucas looked away quickly, not daring to meet her eyes. As he lifted his fork to his mouth as a way to avoid conversation or confrontation, he realized for the first time that night that he’d participated in and ate the meal without thinking about it. He hadn’t hesitated at all. The idea scared him as much as it made him a bit proud. It was a strange thing, to know that what he had been doing was wrong but to also so thoroughly convince himself that what was right was just as wrong. 

Eliott’s thigh brushed his and Lucas felt it as dramatically as if Eliott had laid his head down in Lucas’ lap. Eliott didn’t appear to have noticed, in the middle of telling Idriss some story about their classes, but it was all Lucas could notice. He retreated back into his mind, his mother’s voice in his head telling him three, three, three. 

He saw Eliott’s thigh pressed against his, he saw Eliott’s smile as he spoke to Idriss, he saw the way Eliott’s sweatshirt had shifted, revealing a bit of his collarbone. He heard Eliott’s voice, light and melodic, he heard the light friction of their legs touching, and he heard the scratching of Eliott’s fork on his bowl as he spoke. He felt his own fork, gripped tightly in his hand, he felt his heart stop beating in his chest for a moment too long, and he felt Eliott, not just where their legs touched, but everywhere. 

Fuck. 

Lundi 13:03

Lucas entered the classroom for Swan Lake rehearsals with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Now that Eliott was back, he was back to being understudy. Manon shot him a sad look as they parted ways, off to their respective partners. He loved Imane as a partner and he was sure that she felt the same about Eliott, but the two of them had really missed dancing together and had loved every minute of it the week before. 

The director took Eliott aside for a minute before class started and Lucas could almost feel Eliott tense up. Maybe he was in trouble for his absences the week prior after all. Lucas couldn’t hear what the director was saying but, judging by Eliott’s body language, it was a lecture Lucas was very glad he wasn’t a part of.

Eliott looked paler than normal as he made his way back over to Manon, and Lucas could have sworn he saw his hands shaking slightly. A week ago the sight would have made him undeniably happy, but now he was concerned. Stop it, he told himself, Eliott is still enemy number one. This was just what he did, he made himself appear likeable and perfect, and then he ruined you. Lucas wouldn’t be ruined again. 

The practice was weird, to say the least. The director constantly complimented Lucas, having him demonstrate and partner with Manon from time to time, much to Lucas’ surprise. He’d assumed that with Eliott back he’d be back to square one. It felt great, actually, to finally be seen as more than just the boy in Eliott’s shadow. Maybe he was starting to cast a shadow of his own. 

After practices were over for the day, Lucas and Eliott made dinner. Well, more accurately, Lucas made dinner and Eliott hovered, trying to be helpful. They still hadn’t talked about what had happened Saturday night, but when Lucas went into his room to eat and Eliott joined him, he didn’t say anything. Lucas wrote down what he ate and handed the paper to Eliott to confirm, Eliott looking a bit surprised at the gesture at first, but he smiled as he read it, giving Lucas a small thumbs up. 

Lucas felt a surge of pride, and a surge of disgust. He wasn’t sure which one would win out, but knew that one would, eventually. 

Mardi 19:14

Lucas was in Eliott’s bedroom that night, lying on his back on the floor. The room was much tidier than the last time Lucas had been in there, and Eliott looked a million times better than he had at that time as well. 

Neither of them had said anything about it again when Lucas showed up under the guise of homework help. Both of them knew Lucas wasn’t doing his homework that early in the week and that he didn’t actually care about the themes and characterization in Albert Camus’ The Stranger, but, again, they didn’t mention that fact aloud. 

Right now, though, he wasn’t even pretending to do his work, just staring straight at the lightbulb on the ceiling and twirling his pencil from hand to hand. He didn’t know what Eliott was doing, and was slightly startled when Eliott laid down next to him. He shifted his head and found Eliott already looking at him, grinning. 

Lucas huffed out a small laugh. “Yes?”

Eliott’s smile dropped as he wrinkled his face up in confusion. “What?”

“Did you need something?” Lucas giggled, blaming his laughter on his position. Lying on your back made you laugh more, there was probably, like, studies on it or something. 

“No,” Eliott said simply, corner of his mouth tilting up into a small, almost intimate smile, “You just looked so comfortable I had to see what I was missing.”

“Eh, not the most comfortable spot in the world, but it’ll do,” Lucas shrugged. Eliott laughed softly, still looking at Lucas with a sense of wonder. Some part of it made Lucas want to hide, feeling like he was undeserving of being looked at like that. Plus, wasn’t Eliott supposed to hate him? He didn’t look like he hated him right now, though. Lucas wasn’t too sure if he still hated Eliott either. 

“Do you want to play twenty questions?” Eliott asked suddenly. 

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that a middle school game?”

“Well, we never got the typical middle school experience, so there’s a lot we missed out on.” Was it a great excuse? No. But was Lucas looking for a great excuse? Also no. 

“Ok,” he agreed, turning his face back up to the ceiling, “Do you want to go first?”

“Sure,” Eliott said, as if he hadn’t been the one to suggest the game in the first place. Lucas peeked at his face out of the corner of his eyes, smiling a bit at the sight of Eliott’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Number one… what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously? All that concentrating and that’s what you came up with?” Lucas burst out laughing. 

Eliott nudged his shoulder. “Don’t laugh! We’ve gotta start somewhere, right?”

Yes, Lucas supposed they did. “Blue,” he answered, realizing as he spoke that it wasn’t just blue. It was a light blue gray, changing color depending on the light. The same color reflected in the eyes of the boy beside him. He couldn’t very well say that aloud, so he just said blue. “What about you?”

“Blue,” Eliott repeated, “But not just any blue. My favorite color is the kind of blue that can fit whole galaxies inside it, deep as the ocean but so bright and full of life when the sun hits it at the right angle.”

Ok, wow. Yeah, Lucas never really put that much thought into colors he enjoyed. “Seems like that color might be a bit hard to come by,” Lucas teased, turning his head back to face Eliott. 

Eliott stared him directly in the eye and said, “Maybe for some people. I see it everyday.” 

Lucas was flustered again, but he didn’t entirely know why. To avoid responding to what Eliott had just said, he changed the subject. “It’s your turn again.”

“Um… what’s your favorite constellation?” Eliott asked, looking very interested to know Lucas’ answer. Lucas didn’t really have one, but he didn’t want to let Eliott down, so he just said, “Cassiopeia.” It was the only one he knew, other than the big and little dipper. 

They kept on that pace for a while, exchanging small facts about themselves without a second thought, learning things most people probably didn’t know, but only because they’d never asked. They were down to their last few questions, coming off a long laughing fit when Lucas had asked Eliott the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. Eliott had warned him to never repeat the story, and he swore he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop laughing regardless.

“Why do you hate me?” Eliott asked, and Lucas immediately sobered. He should have known this whole thing was a ruse, that Eliott was going to ask him that. He turned his head away, smile fading from his face completely. 

Eliott was waiting for an answer, but Lucas didn’t really want to give him one. If Eliott still didn’t know why their friendship had ended, why Lucas had held a grudge for so long, they could never really go back to being friends again, no matter what Lucas had accidentally deluded himself into believing. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Lucas asked. 

“I don’t.”

Lucas closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip so hard he almost tasted blood. “I guess you have your answer then.”

“Lucas—”

“Stop.” He really didn’t want to go into this. He couldn’t make Eliott be sorry for something he didn’t realize he had to apologize for, and he didn’t want Eliott to feel like he had to. Lucas was past the point of wanting an apology, but some acknowledgement would be nice. Instead, Eliott still made it seem like it was Lucas’ fault their friendship had ended, as if he’d never wanted them to grow apart. Well, guess what? Friendships were a two way street. Even if Lucas was the one who’d pulled away at the end, Eliott hadn’t even tried to hold on or to make amends. “My turn,” he said, still not opening his eyes. He didn’t know why he hadn’t already stormed out of the room.

Eliott didn’t respond, which Lucas took as a go ahead. “Are you still in love with Lucille?” 

It wasn’t the question he’d meant to ask, and it certainly wasn’t any of his business. He opened his eyes warily and found Eliott lying completely still, face looking like he’d been frozen by the eyes of Medusa. “No,” he said finally, and left it at that. Lucas didn’t push further. “Have you ever been in love?” Eliott asked.

“I don’t think so,” he said honestly. 

“You don’t think so?”

Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know what love feels like.” It was a sad thing to admit and he immediately regretted saying it. 

Eliott didn’t say anything about it, though. He simply sighed and said, “You’ll know it when you feel it.”

“So you’ve been in love, obviously,” Lucas added, trying to take the attention off himself. “How many times?”

“Only twice, well, one and a half I guess you could say,” Eliott said. “Lucille was there, and she was great, but I was only ever able to give her half my heart. The other half has always belonged to someone else. I don’t know if they’ll ever love me the same way, but I think they’ll be it for me. I can’t imagine moving on from them.” 

He hadn’t realized Eliott had ever had a relationship with anyone other than Lucille. He hadn’t realized that probably meant Eliott was in a relationship right now, and that he intended to be with this person forever. It wasn’t his turn, so he couldn’t ask any more, but he desperately wanted to. “Why haven’t you ever been in a relationship?” Eliott asked him. 

Lucas shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve never really had time for it, I guess. I don’t want anything or anyone to stand in the way of my ballet.”

“But what if they could support you, not hinder you?”

Lucas shrugged. “If you find that person, let me know.”

Eliott looked like he wanted to say more, but it was Lucas’ turn to ask a question. He still wanted to know more about the girl Eliott was in love with, unsure why he wanted to know so badly. “Who… is your ideal girl? Looks, personality, et cetera…” 

Eliott flushed bright red, coughing in surprise. “Um… I don’t know…” he stammered nervously.

“Oh come on, of course you do, you just waxed poetic about her for like ten minutes,” Lucas goaded. 

“That’s an exaggeration, but fine. Um, shorter than me, perfect hair, amazing at practically everything they do but they don’t know it, a bit of a dick sometimes, not going to lie, but when they smile at me it makes it all worth it.”

“Wow. She sounds… cool?” Lucas was a bit caught off guard by the answer, more so by the fact that Eliott had looked like he wanted to say so much more.

“Oh yeah, that too,” Eliott added, “She does not necessarily have to be a she.”

Lucas blinked in shock. Never in a million years would he have thought… was Eliott saying what Lucas thought he was saying? “Oh,” he said lamely. 

“Is that a problem? Aren’t you gay?” Eliott asked confusedly. 

“No, no, not a problem, of course not. I’m just… surprised, is all.” 

Eliott smiled. “Well, I’m full of surprises. And I like people who are surprising.”

Lucas rolled his eyes, smiling in return. Not necessarily a girl, huh. Lucas didn’t know why, but the revelation made his heart quicken in his chest. It shouldn’t have, he hadn’t felt the same way when Arthur said that he was bi, or when Alexia had said the same, but for some reason knowing that Eliott wasn’t straight felt different to him. 

“Arthur is bi,” he blurted needlessly. 

Eliott nodded his head slowly, with a teasing smile. “I know. We roomed together for about nine years.”

“Oh, right.”

“I’m pan,” Eliott continued, “In case you wanted to know.”

“That’s cool.” Lucas didn’t really know what else to say. It was cool, he supposed, cool as anything else. Lucas looked back at Eliott’s gaze flicking to his lips unconsciously. He turned his head back to the ceiling immediately, but he didn’t know if Eliott had noticed his glance or not. Eliott’s hand brushed his accidentally where they were positioned so close together on the floor. 

Lucas sat up abruptly. “It’s getting late, I should go to bed.” Was it just him or did Eliott seem disappointed?

“Ok,” Eliott said, coming up to rest on his elbows, “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Lucas left the room faster than the pace of his beating heart. What the fuck was wrong with him? You hate Eliott, he reminded himself, No matter what he says, he still won’t acknowledge all the things he’s done that have given you reason to hate him, so don’t forget that. 

He wouldn’t forget, he couldn’t afford to. 

               Mercredi 21:56

Lucas was sitting on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest to make room for Eliott, who was laying at the foot of the bed. Eliott was reading some book that hadn’t even been assigned and Lucas was at a loss, wondering how he found the time or motivation for it. Lucas was covertly watching him read, watching the way expressions flitted across his face with each line he read. 

His phone buzzed and Eliott looked up at the sound, nearly catching Lucas staring. He held up his phone and Eliott nodded, going back to reading his book. Lucas checked his phone, wondering why it was suddenly vibrating with what felt like hundreds of messages per second.

GROUP CREATED: le gang

Arthur: I hear there’s another party this weekend that m. savory has neglected to inform us of

Yann: The shame, the shame

Basile: What?! There is not!

Arthur: Oh, really? Because the text I just got from Alexia seems to suggest otherwise

Basile: I swear!

Arthur Broussard sent a photo

Arthur: What do you have to say about that, Judas

Basile: I didn’t know about it! She hasn’t said anything to me yet

Yann: Yet, he says, as if she was ever going to tell him in the first place

Basile: This is cyberbullying, I’ll have you know

Arthur Broussard has changed the group name to “CYBERBULLIES ANONYMOUS”

Basile: Fuck you

Arthur: :))

Yann: Let’s get back on track tho

Yann: Real question is, are we pregaming?

Arthur: Duh

Yann: Where tho?

Arthur: Idk maybe ask the girls?

Yann: Should I make a separate group?

Arthur: Nah, just tell Lulu to ask Manon or Imane

Basile: Lol yeah, Imane’s gonna host a pregame alright

Arthur: I didn’t say she would host one, you utter buffoon, but Imane would probably know if one of the other girls was going to

Basile: Oh yeah… 

Arthur: Luluuuuuuu, I know you’ve been reading these

Yann: Lulu join the partyyyyy

Basile: Luuuuuluuuuuuuu

Lucas: Jesus, calm down, I only just caught up you guys text way too fast

Lucas: I’m not sure I’m feeling up for a party, ask the girls yourselves

Arthur: Lulu come on, you always say this and then you always have fun

Lucas: I didn’t have fun at the last party

Yann: The last party happened the same night casting went out, you never wanted to have fun that night 

Basile: This party will be way more fun anyway!

Arthur: Says the one who didn’t even know about the party until like a minute ago

Basile: Dude, I’m trying to get Lucas to come with us

Lucas: Ughhhhhhhhhhh

Yann: Come on, bro, we haven’t done anything in two weeks

Arthur: Speak for yourselves 

Yann: We haven’t ALL done something in two weeks

Lucas: Do you know where it is and who all is going? I don’t want to be surrounded by a bunch of kids from Baz’s school all night

Lucas: No offense Baz

Basile: None taken, we suck

Yann: Lol

Arthur: Not sure… Alexia said her ex told her about it, and her ex is super cool, so it’ll probably be somewhere fun

Arthur: Can you talk to the girls though? See if they’re going/ want to pregame?

Lucas: I don’t see why none of you can talk to them

Arthur: Dude, you and Manon are like siblings and Imane likes you for some odd reason, you’ve got an in

Lucas: You and Alexia are super close???

Arthur: Yeah, and she told me about the party

Lucas: Ugh, fine, wahetever, I will

Lucas: *whatever

Lucas: Ducking autocorrect

Lucas: FUCKING I SWEAR TO GOD

Basile Savory has changed the group name to “duck squad”

Arthur Broussard has changed the group name to “Baz is an idiot”

Basile: :((

Arthur: ;))

Yann: Does this mean you’re in, Lulu?

Lucas: Yeah, fine whatever

Arthur: YEE YEE

Basile: Helllllllll yeah

Yann: *party guns*

Arthur: *kill bill sirens*

Basile: *drops to the floor*

Arthur: *unsheathes sword*  

Yann: *hides in the corner*

Lucas: *hates you all*

Arthur: *beheads Lucas with my sword*

Lucas: *exits the chat*

Lucas Lallemant has left the group “Baz is an idiot”

Yann Cazas has added Lucas Lallemant to the group “Baz is an idiot”

Lucas: How am I supposed to text Manon if you guys are pestering me here?

Arthur: Multitask

Lucas: …

Lucas: Can you feel that?

Lucas: That’s me rolling my eyes so hard I go blind

Lucas: Is Sofiane invited? Do you think he’d want to pregame too? 

Arthur: If he is he’s probably pregame with Eliott and Idriss and Alex

Lucas: We wouldn’t all go together?

Yann: Um, hello, you can’t stand Eliott?? None of us want to deal with that

Arthur: Yeah, Sofiane and Eliott are a package deal lol

Lucas: Jeez, sorry, I just didn’t know if Sofiane would want to hang out with Imane

Lucas: I’m aware that I hate Eliott

Arthur: Oh as long as YOU’RE aware… 

Lucas: Ha ha

Lucas: Excuse me for trying to be civil for a night

Arthur: If you haven’t done it in seven years why would you start now?

Lucas: For Imane, she’s the only person at this school I like ;)

Yann: :(

Arthur: :(

Basile: :(

Arthur: Stfu Baz you don’t even go here

Basile: It still hurts 

Lucas: Ok, I’m leaving for real now because you’re all distracting but I’ll talk to Manon and Imane and let you know

Arthur: DON’T GO

Yann: COME BACK LULU

Basile Savory has changed the group name to “rip Lucas Lallemant :(“

Lucas: You all suck

Lucas Lallemant has left the group “rip Lucas Lallemant :(”

Eliott looked up from his book, catching sight of Lucas’ exasperated grin. “Interesting conversation?”

“No, just the boys asking me to ask the girls if they want to pregame for a party on Saturday.” Lucas sighed and leaned back onto his pillows. 

“Oh yeah, Alexia texted me about that a few minutes ago.”

Lucas poked his head up. “You and Alexia were friends? Are friends?”

“Yeah?” Eliott laughed. Lucas was somewhat surprised, he hadn’t remembered them being close. Eliott hadn’t really been really close to anyone besides Lucille from what he remembered, not even Sofiane.

“I guess I just never saw you guys hang out or anything.” Lucas scrambled to find an explanation, and Eliott laughed again.

“We didn’t hang out much outside the studio,” he confessed, “She was actually helping me with something.”

Lucas was nosy, sue him. “Something?”

Eliott became bashful. “It’s nothing.”

“Is it nothing or something?”

“Both?”

Lucas leveled him with an unamused stare. Eliott sighed. “Come on.”

“What?” Lucas watched as Eliott sat up and hopped off Lucas’ bed and out the door. He poked his head back in when he realized Lucas wasn’t following him, gesturing with one hand. “Come on!”

Curious, Lucas followed him, all the way out into the hallway and down to the studio spaces. He realized he was lagging behind and jogged a bit to catch up. “You have to check out studio time, you know,” he said as Eliott opened the door and flicked on the light to studio three. 

“I know,” he said simply. 

“Wait… did you have this studio checked out?” Eliott nodded and Lucas shook his head in disbelief. “Then why weren’t you in here?”

Eliott looked away from him, focusing intently on his phone. “There’s no limit to checking out the studios if no one is using them,” he said sheepishly, and Lucas narrowed his eyes. Why had Eliott been hanging out with him if he’d booked extra practice time? 

Eliott fiddled with his phone a moment longer before finding what he was looking for. “Polaris,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Polaris,” Lucas repeated. 

“It’s a new ballet I’m trying to write and choreograph,” Eliott continued, and, whatever Lucas had been expecting, this was not it. Eliott was seventeen, how was he choreographing his own ballet in the midst of rehearsals for the lead in their production? Maybe that was why he’d skipped classes the week before… no, the studios had been in use during the days he’d missed, so that didn’t make sense. 

Lucas didn’t know how to respond, so he went for the simplest question. “What’s it about?”

Eliott smiled and launched into a full story of the two main characters, one a man, the other a man, woman, or creature, it didn’t matter. The creature lived in the darkness of a tunnel, never daring to step into the light, while the man lived in the light, terrified of the dark. Both characters met and spoke to one another on opposite sides of this tunnel, each too scared to join the other. Slowly, they fell in love, never having spoken face to face or touched even once. Eventually, though, at the climax, they met in the middle embracing each other and their fears and lived together in perfect harmony the rest of their lives. 

Lucas was a bit awestruck, to say the least. 

“Obviously I don’t have much choreography yet, it took me two years to flesh out the story entirely— that’s what Alexia helped me with, she’s got a great creative mind— and I’ve really only just begun putting it together. Of course, I don’t have music or anything yet either.” Eliott lowered his head bashfully upon seeing Lucas’ dumbfounded expression. “It’s a work in progress.”

Lucas huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Are you kidding? It’s incredible. Never in my life would I be able to—” He didn’t let himself finish the thought, knowing where it went anyway. He picked back up after a moment. “Sure, it’s a work in progress, but it could really be something big. Something that people generations from now will regard as one of the classics of ballet.”

He didn’t know why he was being so complimentary, other than the fact that, if this was anyone else, he would have been gushing even more. It was incredible, what Eliott was doing. Lucas couldn’t help but feel infinitely inadequate. Eliott looked equally as surprised. 

“Thank you, Lucas,” he said genuinely, “Really. Thank you. It means more than you know.” They gazed at each other for a beat, each of Lucas’ nerves standing on end at the sincerity in Eliott’s voice and expression. Then Eliott blinked and looked away and the magic was lost. “Can I show you part of it? I mean, it’s just an animated storyboard of the general idea, not the dance itself, but…”

“Of course.”

Eliott pulled out his phone again, faster than Lucas could even process what was going on. He showed Lucas a video of what he assumed was the climactic scene when the two characters meet. The creature in the dark stepped hesitantly into the light where the man was waiting, the creature held their hands up and the two laced their fingers together, looking at each other as if they were the only two people on the planet before joining together in a kiss. It was only a storyboard, as Eliott had said, but Lucas could feel the raw emotion emanating even from the drawings. It was breathtaking. 

“The light and dark then, are they sort of, like ‘metaphorical’ as well as physical?” Lucas asked, drawing the question out of his ass. He was shit at literature and symbolism and analysis, but he could try. 

Eliott frowned. “Yeah. Was that not obvious? Should I make it more obvious?” He looked worried and Lucas widened his eyes, shaking his head fervently. 

“No, no, no! I was just making sure I understood correctly, duh,” he lied swiftly, and Eliott visibly relaxed. 

His eyes carried a vibrant, passionate sort of light, as he continued explaining his ideas. “Obviously a big part of the story is the fact that they never touch, but I want to incorporate partnerwork in the choreography as well. Maybe I could have the creature stand behind a sheet of some sort, like a silhouette, and we could have them ‘dance’ together in that way. Of course, the man would have to pretend to partner without an actual partner, but it would be an interesting way to subvert expectations…”

Lucas nodded like this wasn’t all going completely over his head. He was so interested in this project, this story, but he didn’t have a mind like Eliott had, running and overflowing with both ideas and the capacity to execute them. 

Therefore he listened, only chiming in when Eliott asked him a direct question, mostly just listening to Eliott talk about his biggest dream and taking in every word. If he hadn’t hated Eliott so much, he might have thought he was falling in love.           

Jeudi 2:22       

“But… I don’t understand,” Lucas said to Eliott, who wasn’t meeting his gaze in the mirror. “We always do extra lessons together.”

“I know, but the director just said he wanted to do lessons with me.” Eliott finally glanced at Lucas over his shoulder. “I’m sure he’d help you too if you asked!”

But that was the thing. Lucas was ten, he couldn’t just ask the director for private lessons, he would be laughed at at best, kicked out of the school at worst. Eliott was the one who got the attention, the gold stars, the compliments, and usually Lucas was just happy for him, but it was hard to be happy all the time when no one cared about him. Not even Eliott. 

“I don’t think so, Eli,” Lucas said uncertainly, knowing Eliott didn’t understand why he couldn’t just go to the director and demand to be treated like a star. He wasn’t a star, not like Eliott was.

Eliott wrinkled his nose. “Don’t call me Eli here, Lu, we’re not babies anymore.”

“Then don’t call me Lu.” Lucas crossed his arms in front of his chest, but Eliott either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Eliott didn’t notice or care about a lot of things regarding Lucas that he used to. 

Instead, he turned around and tapped Lucas on the nose. “But you’ll always be my Lu!”

Lucas swatted his hand away. Why couldn’t Eliott always be his Eli? Eliott finally frowned, realizing Lucas wasn’t in the mood to be blown off or have his concerns fall on deaf ears. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” Lucas said softly, trying not to cry. Eliott had said they weren’t babies anymore, and grown ups didn’t cry. It was hard not to though. Everything with Eliott was just the icing on top of one mess of a cake. His mother had been committed to an institution and he didn’t know when he’d be able to see her or what that even meant, his father had forgotten to send a check to pay for his tuition, so he was on probation until further notice even though it wasn’t even his fault, and Yann had started asking questions about his bruises, questions he didn’t want to answer. 

He would have answered them, though, if Eliott had asked. But Eliott didn’t notice. Eliott didn’t care. They were supposed to be in this together, forever, but Lucas felt like the two of them had been dropped in the middle of the ocean and Eliott had swam to shore without even checking to make sure Lucas hadn’t drowned.

Eliott’s brows creased in concern. “Everything? Me included?”

Yes you, especially you. Lucas just shrugged, a tear escaping down his cheek. He wiped it away hastily, but Eliott saw it. “Lucas?” he pleaded.

“You don’t care about me anymore,” Lucas said quietly.

“What are you talking about? Of course I do! I just said you’ll always be my Lu,” Eliott smiled. 

Lucas frowned. “And I just said I didn’t want you to call me that anymore.”

“Is it because of your mom?” Eliott asked sincerely, and Lucas turned his head to Eliott so fast he almost got whiplash. 

“What about my mom?” Lucas didn’t think Eliott knew anything about his mom. Even if he told Eliott most of the things that made him sad, he probably wouldn’t have mentioned his mom. He didn’t really know what to say about her, didn’t even really know the extent of what was going on inside her head, and he wanted to make sure no one thought he loved her any less because of it. 

Eliott became sheepish, shifting from foot to foot. “I don’t know… my mom just told me that she was sick. That she was in the hospital.”

“She’s not crazy!” Lucas yelled before he could stop himself. He didn’t care about the tears anymore. 

Eliott blinked in surprise. “I didn’t say anything about her being crazy?”

Lucas was trying to keep himself together in whatever way he could. “You didn’t have to! It’s how everyone looks at her now and it’s not fair. She’s having a hard time but it’s not because she’s crazy. If anyone’s crazy, it’s my dad, because I try to be perfect but he still—” Lucas broke off, unable to get the words out.  

“He still what?” Eliott asked. He still hits me so hard that I pass out, he still bruises me where no one sees it, he still blames me for what happened to my mother, he still calls her crazy. But Lucas couldn’t say any of that, even if he wanted to. His voice was meek and timid. “He still nothing. Forget it.”

Maybe, maybe, if Eliott had asked again, or if he’d even showed that he cared, Lucas would have broken down and told him everything. Maybe they would have been ok. Eli and Lu.

But instead, Eliott said, “Ok.” 

They held their silence for quite a while, Eliott breaking it again minutes or hours later. “Do you want to see my fouettes? I’ve been practicing and I think I can do ten now! Maybe the director will help me do more…”

And, just like that, Lucas was done. In the back of his mind he knew Eliott hadn’t meant anything by it, just trying to get them back to joking around like they usually did, but it hurt. Eliott didn’t care enough or at all about him. Just his stupid fouettes and stupid private lessons with the stupid director. “I’m tired, I think I’m going to go take a nap,” Lucas said.

Eliott nodded, already facing the mirror again, preparing to practice his turns. “Ok. Later, Lu!”

“Later, Eli,” he said as he walked out the door, only because he knew it would be the last time he ever said it. 

Lucas woke abruptly with tears in his eyes. Why were some of the worst memories of his past haunting him so much recently? He turned his head and startled at the sight of Eliott, face buried in his pillow and breathing softly. 

He racked his brain trying to remember how he’d ended up there. Polaris, he remembered, then they’d come back to the suite, and Eliott had showed him more on his computer in his room. At some point Eliott had gone quiet and Lucas had realized he’d fallen asleep. Lucas had shifted him so his head was at the top of the bed and covered him with a blanket, about to get up when he realized Eliott’s bed was really comfortable. He must have fallen asleep there too. 

If he hadn’t dreamed, maybe he would have settled back in after waking up, or maybe he wouldn’t have woken up at all. Now, his entire body felt rigid, like he was betraying himself by even thinking he could stay in there. 

Why and how had he fooled himself into believing that maybe he and Eliott could get along? The memories were always there, in the back of his mind, but he’d ignored them for the most part. Fuck, he had to get out of there. 

Once he settled back into his own room be broke down into sobs that racked his whole body, knowing he was probably being kind of loud but also knowing Eliott was a fairly heavy sleeper so he didn’t have to worry about being heard. 

He was such an idiot, falling back into old patterns. Never again. He would go back to the way things had been at the beginning of the year, avoid Eliott at all costs. Never again. He would never again be the stupid boy who believed that people could change or that maybe he was worth something after all. 

#skam france #elu fic #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #lucas x eliott #elu ballet au #fic tag

[thedyingmoon]

💜 This I Promise 💜

***

XL. Tension

***

Ivanna Dawk looked at all the people who were present on her family’s modest dining room that evening.

She looked at her left and saw her mommy sitting beside her, with her daddy situated at the end of the long table. Her elder sister Rosemarie sat at her daddy’s left side, and just beside her was the lady who was referred to as Baxter. She was wearing glasses, which struck the little girl as odd, since the lady never really wore glasses. At least that’s what she knew upon her numerous visits on her mansion. On Lady Baxter’s left side was her fiancé, the man who bakes super delicious treats, or Shining Man as she referred him. He looked as though he was feeling extra constipated for the evening, for a reason the little girl would never be able to fathom. Next to him was her elder brother Jonas, who seemed really proud of his position in the dining table, for next to him sat the man she called Eyebrows. He was situated opposite her daddy Nile at the other end of the table. Ivanna looked at her right and saw her cousin (F/N) looking very much uncomfortable with her place, and next to her on her right sat a man she had never seen before. The only thing she knew about him was that he was smiling a lot, was super tall, and refused to remove his black bowler hat.

The dark – clad family butler, whose hairline was beginning to recede, cleared his throat for seemingly like the fifth time during that evening as he waited for the man who refused to remove his bowler hat.

“Your hat, sir.” The butler said for the fifth time to the man.

Kenny frowned at him, making Ivanna flinch with the sudden mood change.

“Alright.” Kenny almost growled at the butler and removed his hat, slightly hesitant to give the thing to the aging servant. “Do take care of that, or else,…” he said the last sentence quietly and left it hanging for the butler to take the hint.

The man shivered at Kenny’s tone and bowed at him with utmost respect. He scurried hastily out of the room, informing the attendants to start serving dinner.

“I’m very honored to have everyone here for this evening!” Nile announced at the head of the table, his tone was unusually pleasant for the occasion. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Marie smiled inwardly at her husband, for she was the one who taught him to rehearse those obligatory words.

“But, I’ am deeply sorrowful for the absence of your sister, Mr. Smith.” Nile said to Eyebrows.

“She had something to attend to, you must forgive her.” Erwin answered his friend.

What the heck?! Erwin has a sister?! thought both Levi and Hange as they tried so hard to conceal their surprise from everyone.

Well, their surprise was not the only thing they had to contain that night, for nobody ever gave them the memo that Erwin Smith would be attending the dinner party.

The moment Erwin laid eyes on Elvis and Jacqueline, he instantly found out that they were his comrades in deep disguise. At first, he was mystified, but then, he realized that the rumored disappearance of two of the local Trost citizens’ migration documents linked to Levi and Hange’s presence here in Wall Sina. And he knew exactly the reason for the trouble his men have caused. In the course of just a few minutes, his annoyance at the two changed into utter amusement. They could do whatever they want here.

As long as they don’t interfere with his plans, or schemes, as they may have put it.

But, of course, Levi and Hange rightfully assumed that they were busted from the very beginning of that fateful evening. So, they couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief when Erwin chose not to make a commotion. The Commander just let them do what they want.

But, was it really a good thing?

On top of that, what’s even more alarming was the presence of Kenny Ackerman.

What the heck was Nile thinking to have invited such a notorious criminal in his dinner party, in the presence of his own family?! Levi thought savagely as he gave the man a sidewise glance.

But, what’s even more unsettling was his position just beside (F/N). The man looked at her too much, bumped into her often, and smiled at her a lot. He was not sure whether the man saw him through his disguise, but he only knew one thing: that (F/N) was growing more and more uncomfortable in his presence as time went by.

Kenny, on the other hand, was vastly enjoying himself with the amusement that Nile had offered him. Of course, he had already reported to Reiss that he had found the girl who took down half of Sutherland’s cult members, and was given the order by the noble, himself, to silence her as soon as possible.

In other words, (F/N)’s continuous healthy breathing was due to Kenny’s strong insistence to keep her alive for his amusement.

Well, that was until she got her memory back.

What’s more, he still wanted to find out the reason for his nephew's presence here in Wall Sina, and in actual, fucking disguise.

Did the stupid brat actually think that he hadn’t found out, yet?! He’s his uncle, for fuck’s sake!

He knew that uncle thing, didn’t he?

“I’ am also very honored to have you here in our presence, Captain Kenny Ac – “

“Glad to be here.” Kenny cut off Nile’s sentence and quickly took a swig of the rich red wine that was offered to him by one of the frightened female attendants.

“We’re glad that you’re still in good health after that long retirement, Captain.” Erwin uttered good – naturedly.

“Yeah, I thought I’d be done for.” Muttered Kenny sarcastically. The presence of the Commander of the Scouting Legion didn’t really please him, at all. The man struck him as extremely suspicious. Erwin Smith was known to evade the honorary migration offer for ages.

And for the man to accept it now? Especially during this time when Reiss and him were on a mission for purging?

He decided to be extra vigilant and to not let the retired Commander wander off his sight.

Erwin decided to be vigilant, as well. For, here is the man who was behind all those cult – connected murders all throughout the two Walls. The Guard Dog, himself. And he had Nile to thank to for bringing the elusive person here.

But, in turn, he must absolutely protect (F/N) at all costs. He knew really well that the reason for Kenny accepting Nile’s invitation was the innocent girl.

He knew deep in his being that Kenny had not made a move on her, yet, because he knew that she lost her memories.

And what will happen to her once she gets all her memories back?

Erwin shuddered at the thought of the man killing her.

He must, should, protect her.

Meanwhile, Jonas and Rosemarie could only guess what the tension between the men was for. The two cunning siblings knew that the reason for Shunerman’s stoic appearance was Erwin and Kenny. They knew that Kenny was keeping all eyes on Shunerman, Erwin, and (F/N). They knew that Erwin was alert at every move that Kenny made.

And (F/N)? Well, they’re beginning to have doubts for Erwin and their father for bringing her here.

Marie remained silent for the whole course.

What’s with men and their intense competition over a single woman? She thought as she took a dainty sip of the evening’s appetizer, a cold, gourmet potato soup.

Nile was absolutely nervous behind his dinner party host façade.

What, in Heaven’s name, have I done?! He thought helplessly as he observed Erwin throw daggers towards Kenny. He watched nervously as Kenny gave (F/N) more perverted glances. And he almost choked on his soup as he looked at Elvis gripping his spoon angrily at the sight of the Military Police Captain trying to have a conversation with the girl.

“How are you, Princess?” Kenny innocently asked (F/N), his predatory nature concealed through his docile smile.

“I’m good, thank you so much, Captain.” (F/N) replied, giving him an equally docile and innocent smile.

“You should enjoy your meal more often. I’ve never seen you finish one during our lunch breaks.” He said to her, gesturing at her slightly touched appetizer. “You might collapse during lessons, you know?”

Levi’s eyes widened at a fraction of a second upon hearing the words that just came out of Kenny’s mouth.

They knew each other?! What is the emphasis on the word lessons for?! What is this lesson he was talking about?!

(F/N) just smiled at him like the Princess he told her she was.

“You flatter me with your concern, Captain.” She told him, putting into words the things she learned from Lady Delilah during one of their lessons on how to stand up against flirts during Winter Season Events. “I deeply thank you from the bottom of my fluttering heart.”

“Only the best for my favorite student.” And the devil was professionally skilled in it, as well! And what’s more, he even stealthily took her right hand in his and planted a kiss on it!

Hange was straining too hard as she prevented Levi from tackling the man and not being obvious about it. Erwin’s eyes were widening by the second with each taunt the devil was throwing at him. But, he must not budge. He must not budge! Rosemarie cringed at what Kenny just did to (F/N). If the Winter Season is filled with men like him, then she must do everything she can to get sick on the first day of the event! And probably for the rest of the Season!

(F/N) could only pretend to hide a dainty smile from the man, when, in fact, her finger was restlessly moving on its own on the exquisitely mantled table, forming her most unuttered words.

I

A

M

S

O

S

C

A

R

E

D

I

A

M

S

O

S

C

A

R

E

D

I

A

M

S

O

S

C

A

R

E

D

S

H

I

T

L

E

S

S

Jonas noticed this, being the good cousin that he was, and went to her rescue.

“I’ am very excited to compete with you in horseback riding tomorrow, Commander Smith.” He said to Erwin just to divert everyone’s attention away from (F/N) and Kenny.

Erwin was a bit startled at what Jonas just did and realized that he was just salvaging what dignity his cousin had left after what Kenny just did. He smiled at the teen and put his fist up for a brotherly fist bump.

“And so am I, Jonas. Make sure to utterly defeat me, is that a deal?” he said to the eager teen.

Jonas almost blushed as he bumped his own fist against the larger man. “Deal!”

Rosemarie just rolled her eyeballs at what Jonas just did, knowing how much her brother admired the Commander. Well, at least (F/N) was safe.

For now.

Erwin, on the other hand, decided to keep the act going for the sake of (F/N).

“Let’s make a proper one, then.” Erwin smiled at Jonas, his eyes almost gleaming devilishly. “You can ask me anything you want if you beat me.”

“Really? Anything?” Jonas looked so pleased for his own good.

“Yeah, anything. But, if I win,…”

Erwin waited patiently as the attendants took away their half – empty soup bowls for the main course. It was the most succulent beef he had ever laid eyes on. And it smelled good, as well.

“If I win,” he went on, making a sidewise glance towards Hange. “then, you must help my right – hand man Hange on her Titan experiments.”

Now, it was Levi’s turn to strain as he stopped Hange from bursting out like a maniac upon hearing the forbidden word.

Shitty idiot! Levi thought as he squeezed Hange’s hand forcefully underneath the table to stop her from yapping. Don’t give in to his taunts! Don’t fucking give in!

“I think you are getting difficult on the boy, Commander.” Hange said in the most nobly and lady – like voice she could muster. “What’s so good about studying the things that could very well kill us?”

Erwin smiled.

She took the bait.

“Well, for one thing, we study them to know more about them. You know, for defense. How could we kill them without knowing the most basics of things about them?”

“Very well said, Commander. Very well said.” She answered him, her drool almost escaping the edges of her mouth.

Levi gave up as he noticed the sparkle in Hange’s eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head in defeat.

Erwin noticed this and targeted Levi.

“You don’t seem to support your fiancée’s honest opinions on Titans, Mr. Shunerman.” He said to him, knowing really well that the man would not easily budge compared to Hange and her overwhelming weakness to all things Titan – related.

Levi dropped his hostility on both Erwin and Kenny for a while for the sake of (F/N) and just went on with the act, making sure to give Erwin a taste of his own medicine.

“If you must know, no, I don’t.” Levi boldly announced as he brought the dinner knife harshly down on the perfectly cooked beef. “You might assume that I have tried numerous times to feed her to the Titans, myself.”

Almost everyone in the room gasped at what Elvis just said. Well, except Nile, who only thought, have I seen this banter before, or am I mistaken?

“That was a very harsh thing to say about your betrothed, Mr. Shunerman.” Erwin was enjoying himself.

“Ah, that is normal. She’s used to it.” Levi spoke, then stabbed the innocent meal with his fork, making everyone’s eardrums shatter slightly with the sound of his clashing dinner utensils. “However, I know something that’s not normal here.” He looked at Erwin straight in the eye, his full sass mode on. “It’s you and your presence here in Wall Sina. Aren’t you supposed to be watching over your own men and not practicing waltz for the Winter Season?”

Ivanna ate without a care in the world as she watched all the occupants in the room shift nervously in their seats.

Hmm, delicious food, she thought.

“Ah, that.” Erwin uttered, not having the resolution to just give up easily to Levi. “Well, Hange Zoe, the Section Commander, was supposed to be the one doing it. I have passed on my position to her, and I trust that she’s doing everything she can to uphold the Scouting Legion’s most prized victual.”

“And that is?”

“To defeat all the enemies that were hiding all the truth of this world from us and to spread the said truth to every person in the world, be it rich or poor, up to the ends of this world.”

“Is that so?” Levi’s eyebrow was raised sarcastically.

“You said it. Even now, I’m still pursuing that dream.” Erwin answered, beginning to partake on the sumptuous meal.

“Of spreading the truth?”

“And of defeating all the enemies that were hiding it.”

“Well, truth hurts, ya know what I’m saying?” butted in Kenny, who dramatically waved his fork with a slightly bloody sliced piece of beef onto it. He successfully let them know that he’s still with them. And he’s very well following the conversation properly.

“Oh my, that beef’s still rare, forgive me, Captain.” Marie said to him, terrified of the bloody thing in Kenny’s fork. “I’ll have Therese produce you a well – done one.”

Kenny smiled innocently at Marie, the predator in him longing to lunge at every person in the mansion. “You don’t have to do it, Madam. I prefer things rare.”

(F/N) accidentally bit her tongue.

Is it me or this dining table is slowly turning into a verbal battlefield?

Kenny turned towards her, noticing her uneasiness at the topic, and spoke to her.

“Don’t you agree, Princess?”

“I have a different preference, Captain.” She calmly answered.

“And that is?”

She looked at him bravely, her endearingly innocent façade almost catching him off guard.

“I prefer things which I worked very hard on. That way, the fruits are even sweeter.”

Fruits? Thought Ivanna as she took another bite of her meal. When is beef considered fruit?

“And the harvest even more interesting! Ah, yes, I agree with you, Princess.” Kenny said, adding violence to her words, his maliciousness starting to show through his smile.

Stop. Calling. Her. PRINCESS! Levi savagely thought as he took a sip of his red wine.

All throughout the six – course meal, the occupants of the room were in dire straights from invisible bombs that were falling each and every time a bullet – like word was released from the dinner combatants, startling them and making them choke on their meals.

Even during play hours, the tension didn’t cease.

Kenny and Levi kept on giving each other murderous glances as they played pool, each of them making rude and snide remarks regarding their unforgivably and amazingly matched gameplay or just themselves.

“Whoever introduced you to pool must be really, really sick to the bone to have taught you that move.” Kenny remarked as the ball was easily brought down the hole by Levi with one of his flashy moves. It even made Marie, Hange, and Rosemarie open their mouths in awe of the short and blonde man.

Levi narrowed his eyes at Kenny.

“What do you expect? For a son of a bastard to teach me that? I’d live through it most of my childhood, thanks to that devil.” He said to Kenny, making the said devil laugh out loud.

“Well, that devil didn’t teach you all of his moves, believe me.” Kenny said and hit the final ball, which was nearly impossibly stuck on the other end of the table. It went smoothly down the hole without so much as a struggle.

Yay! I’m an angel! Thought Ivanna as she gobbled greedily on her strawberry – flavored ice cream.

Erwin made good on his long – time promise to teach (F/N) how to play chess, despite Jonas’ efforts to engage him in a long conversation about the Titans and the Scouting Legion.

It was a huge mistake.

“Commander, you’re supposed to teach me how to be good at chess.” (F/N) announced, her eyebrows raised, one hand scratching the back of her head. “We can’t produce the proper results if we keep ending it with this!”

It was Erwin’s turn to laugh.

“I promise I’ll be better, my Lady.” He said to her.

“Give everything you’ve got, Commander.” (F/N) said, flexing her intertwined fingers, and patiently waiting as Erwin rearranged the pieces of the antique board.

The result of the games, be it chess or pool, ended up in stalemates or draw.

Either one of them had not, yet, been defeated in said games, memory loss, expertise, devilry or not.

Nile shrugged his head helplessly. It had developed quite an unexplainable ache. He needed medicine, pronto.

“Fuck this, I’m out.” He muttered under his breath as he made his way to his office.

When will we have a party like this again? Ivanna excitedly thought as she licked her fingers, ridding it of the remaining taste of her cold treat.

***

In just a short time, Petra was considered to join the Special Operations Squad led by none other than Levi Ackerman, himself.

Her efforts slaying Titans and assisting Levi in every way she can were not wasted as the man, himself, approved of her skills. He was even proud the number of the Titans she killed.

Petra thought that was enough to win back her mother’s heart.

She went home that day, expecting her parents to welcome her with open arms.

What she saw there didn’t please her, at all. She saw how happy they were without her, decorating the room for the Harvest Festival and laughing at every joke her father made.

Even mother was laughing too hard for her own good.

Had they forgotten about me? Thought Petra as she peeked at the glass windows.

Then, her eyes fell on (F/N). She was now even more lady – like than the last time they laid eyes on each other.

And what’s that thing she’s wearing? Was it one of the dresses her mother made for her?

Petra glanced away, a tear rolling down her face.

Mom, I’m home!

That should’ve been the words she would utter the moment she open the door.

But now, it seems that her family had forgotten about her completely.

Why?

Because of the girl who replaced her in their lives.

Petra wiped her tears and walked away, determined to make (F/N)’s life miserable.

But, how?

“Is Petra going to like this?” (F/N) asked as she took out her sister’s favorite cake out of the oven.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure of that, dear.” The mother said.

“Shouldn’t she be home by now?” the father asked, getting worried sick of his beloved baby girl.

“She will get home, honey. We’ll just have to wait for her.” His wife said while putting more decorations on the walls of their tiny home.

“I hope she likes our surprise to her.” (F/N) said. “It’s no easy feat, being accepted on an elite Scouting Legion Squad, and all,…”

“She will.” The mother smiled at her, not knowing that her beloved daughter would never come home.

Until that one fateful day,…

***

~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @nerdyphantomlady , @super-peace-fangirl , @fangurl-ontgeside , and @emilyackerman78 . 💜

***

A/N:

I really enjoyed writing this particular part. I do hope you've enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed penning it.

***

💜💜💜

***

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi ackerman #captain levi #this i promise #levi x reader #levi x you #chapter 40 #tension

[zonamievents]

ZoNa Summer Festival Day #7

Theme: Barbecue Rating: T / PG-14 Word Count: 2,190 words���

Nami didn’t think it was necessary to have a ‘celebratory barbecue’ for returning to the Sunny after a night out in the jungle. Sanji, on the other hand, was adamant that it was vitally important. The crew had been forced to wait out the entire evening before they could look for her and the swordsman, and those stressful hours were torture for them. Or so she had been told.

It was the dramatic chef who explained all of this to her while preparing his portable grill on the shore of the island, so there wasn’t any time to properly discuss the matter.

If an outdoor lunch was inevitable, then Nami had no choice but to enjoy the festivities.

Within a matter of minutes, she had emerged from the Women’s Quarters in a brand new bikini. The fabric was a vibrant sangria red, with golden chain links integrated into the straps over her shoulders and the thin bands along her hips. It made her feel elegant after spending the night sleeping on the ground—

Well, no. That wasn’t entirely true. She spent some of it in Zoro’s arms.

“Sanji-kuuun!” she called out to the party organizer rather hastily as soon as her sandaled feet jumped off of the wooden ramp and hit the shore. “How much longer until we get to eat?”

“Just five more minutes, Nami-swaaan! Help yourself to a piña colada under the umbrella with Robin-chwan!” Sanji suggested while squealing like a child. He was behaving very much like a kid on their birthday as he tossed an assortment of meats and vegetables onto the barbecue, something that never ceased to amaze her. The energy he could summon at a moment’s notice for either cooking or women was a feat in its own way.

“How are you feeling, Nami?” Robin asked her the moment she walked under the shade of the umbrella.

Making herself comfortable in the only other lawn chair, Nami sighed as she answered, “I’m all right. It wasn’t that bad, actually.”

Laid out on her own seat, sunglasses falling down the bridge of her nose, the older woman eyed her with soft surprise. “You managed to find shelter from the rain?”

“Oh yeah,” Nami waved off her worry. At the same time, her other hand reached for her awaiting piña colada. “I knew it was coming and Zoro found us a place to hide in time.”

“That’s a relief. We were all worried that you were stranded in some way.” Admitted Robin.

The straw popped out of Nami’s mouth after her very first sip. “The closest thing we had to shelter was some branches leaning up against these chopped down trees! It’s amazing I didn’t catch a cold or anything.”

“Especially if you weren’t able to make a fire.” Agreed her friend, behaving as if the worry had yet to leave her.

“No, but I had Zoro’s big body as a heat source, which is just as good.” Nami promised her at a rambling pace just to put an end to any lingering concerns. Then, she dove back into her drink.

The sounds of Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Franky playing some ball-related game on the beach behind her gathered the navigator’s attention, compelling her to take a look at what they were freaking out about. In some strange way, whenever she was away from the signature Mugiwara crew chaos, she missed it dearly. Listening to her captain demand another turn for whatever exercise they were doing was oddly comforting to her.

“Is that so?” The sung question wiped away the momentary peace Nami was feeling though as it called her focus back to Robin. She had yet to fix the position of her glasses, which only emphasized the suspicious arch in her brow as she stared back at her.

It took her an embarrassingly long moment to realize what could have garnered such a reaction from her friend. As it dawned on her, Nami sat up straight and flailed the way an innocent person totally would have. “I was willing to stay on the ground all night b-but Zoro let me use him as a body pillow! I-In a seated position, w-with me-e-e curled up in a ball like a cat!”

There were imaginary pins and needles prodding her as the seconds ticked by them. Robin was taking her time digesting her words – or perhaps her behavior when saying those words – and then replied with a meager, “I see.”

Nami watched the older woman finally push her sunglasses up to their proper resting place and reach for her drink. Sipping on the icy beverage felt like a cheap attempt at preventing her from saying anything more than that. The polite answer left the navigator feeling dismissed, whether intentional or otherwise, inspiring her to leave her seat and take a stroll around the set up the crew had made on the beach.

Drink in hand, of course.

She already had her fair share of befuddling thoughts about Roronoa Zoro – she didn’t need the scrutiny of her crew mates added to the mix. It was true that she had recently become incredibly… fascinated by him. It had always baffled her, which was a different sort of fascination. But his reactions to her lately ever since their naked dip in the sea had left her feeling scattered. Was she supposed to pretend it didn’t happen? Was she supposed to be timid around him now? Was he avoiding her or was she just hypersensitive to whatever he did now?

It was taking her a while to see beyond his squeamish behavior and figure out how she would react to this perplexing version of Roronoa Zoro, but she’d get there. Even if it meant she’d end up yearning for another evening in his arms for the rest of their journey and it never happened again, at least she’d know what she wanted from him, despite the odds that nothing particularly wonderful would ever take place between them.

Or maybe she was starved in another way: her empty stomach was aching after going half a day without a single bite to eat.

Nami strolled up next to Sanji on swift feet and put on her most feminine voice. “Mmm, it smells delicious, Sanji-kun. What’s on the menu?”

His arms were thrashing about as he managed every single morsel that was cooking on his grill top. Focused, he didn’t have time to fall victim to her flirtations, but the chef proudly answered her with a grin on his face, “We have burgers for Franky, plus skewers of all kinds! Scallops, shrimp, chicken, beef, mushrooms, asparagus and cherry tomatoes wrapped in bacon.”

Every single item of food he mentioned just made her hungrier. Salivating, Nami praised his efforts with great excitement. “Wow, it all sounds so amazing.”

“Oh, also, those sausages over there” – he used his tongs to point at the pyramid arrangement of buns that sat on the platform attached to his barbecue – “are already cooked. I’m just waiting for these to be finished, and then we can sit down and eat.”

“Is there anything I can snack on no-o-ow?” She felt like a child trying to trick him into feeding her, but she wasn’t above using her feminine wiles to get a bite to eat so late in the day.

Sanji stared apologetically at his assortment of skewers, however, she knew the look was really meant for her. “I promise it’ll be ready really soon, Nami-san. I’ll make sure you get the first plate of food, all right?”

Nami didn’t answer him. She just pouted at him in protest of his denial of her.

Nevertheless, he was much too concentrated on preparing a hearty meal for the crew to pay her much attention. In fact, he only snapped his head upwards when he realized that something was missing. The proud chef beamed at her when he suddenly required her help. “Could you just watch the grill for a second? I need to go grab the side dishes I prepared from the fridge.”

“Ah, I could get them—“

“Oh no, Nami-san! I wouldn’t dream of making you do any physical labor! Not after what you went through last night!” He was totally prepared to prattle on, but Nami wasn’t interested in hearing it.

“Okay, okay.” She promised despite the eye roll she gave him.

“Thank you!” He screeched his gratitude as he raced his onto the Sunny.

The hungry navigator glared at the meat that wasn’t fully cooked through yet. Smelling the different kinds of skewers as they were grilled to perfection was draining, like it was stealing what remaining energy she had left in her body. All Nami wanted to do was take a bite of something to quell the rumbling in her tummy…

That’s when she happened to glance at the beautiful arrangement of sausages sitting before her. Cooked. Ready to eat. Practically taunting her in their most likely warmed buns, with a nice char to their skin.

Nami licked her lips, trying to decide whether or not she was willing to risk upsetting Sanji by disobeying him directly. Then she remembered that the entire celebration was for her sake, and deemed herself worthy of having what would surely be the first bite of the meal. With greedy, sneaky hands did she snatch a sausage from the back of the pyramid in the hopes that she wouldn’t be caught. It was probably the largest sausage she’d ever eaten, she surmised when she felt the weight of it in her hands. The girth of it only made it all the more appealing.

Nami opened her mouth wide, ready to take the biggest bite. Her lips flared out around the tip of it due to the size while she began to sink her teeth—

“Hey,” a whispered voice crept up behind her, scaring her into stillness. “I’m starving. Is there anything ready to eat yet?”

Oh no, someone had the same idea as her.

Someone’s with a rather rough texture to their voice.

Someone who made a shiver run up her spine when he spoke in that deep tone of his.

Slowly, shamefully, Nami looked at Zoro over her shoulder while there was a gigantic sausage stuck in her mouth. She panicked about what she was going to do, now that she had been caught stealing food from her own crew at a party. It quickly occurred to her that she could rip it in half and split it with him, hoping to buy his silence!

But the way he jumped back a few feet from her told Nami that her plan wasn’t going to work. No, instead of giving her a chance to speak at all, a suspiciously jittery Zoro stammered, “I-I, uh, n-never mind. I-I’ll eat later!” He ran off in his swim trunks and she assumed he was merely going to run over to play whatever ball game the boys were playing.

No, Nami was compelled to watch the proud, collected swordsman panic until he had walked straight into the ocean and dove underwater like some kind of terrified shark.

All she could do was stand there and watch the spectacle as it unfolded before her very eyes. It was so chaotic that she couldn’t begin to compute what on earth had caused him to react in such a way. It was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when Sanji returned. His high-pitched beckoning reached her first, calling out to her, “Nami-saaan! I’m back—Ah, you’re eating a sausage?”

Guilt rushed over her coldly and she snapped her jaw shut. It was a delicious bite, like she had suspected, making it difficult to prioritize any emotion other than appreciation. “Ah, these are really good! I normally don’t eat these, but it’s… it’s…”

A sausage.

He had run away from her when she had an incredibly thick, long sausage in her mouth.

No, he couldn’t have thought… could he!? “AH!” Nami shouted, throwing her bitten into sausage at the prepared pyramid. The top two rows crumbled from the impact which upset the chef who prepared them greatly. He tried to catch the tumbling ones while she looked back at the sea. Zoro hadn’t resurfaced yet, and a part of her didn’t want him to!

Or did she? Was there something going on with him? Between them? The possibility that he was thinking dirty things like that made her feel jittery too, in her own way. All she wanted to do was tease him and chastise him without facing him. She didn’t know if she was ready to yet! It would be uncomfortable for the both of them if she said something to him and she was completely wrong. However, she didn’t think she was… Was she? “Nami, are you okay?” Robin asked for the second time that day. She had ran over to her when she had made the commotion with the pyramid, earning the concern that was being shown to her.

Nami rebuffed her completely. “I’m fine!” She promised, though this time, she wasn’t so sure.

‘What does it mean, if he’s looking at me in that way?’

#ZoNaSummerFestival #ZoNa #ZoNami #SwordGust #ZoroXNami

[nom-the-skel]

[vore] Emotional Vampire

soft safe unwilling and willing vore

2.7k words

Sans clung half heartedly to Papyrus, telling himself he should just let go lest his brother get taken along with him, but not quite able to follow through. Papyrus held onto him too but didn’t dare use his full strength in light of Sans’s low HP. So it wasn’t too hard for their captor to pry them apart.

It was a skeleton monster, the same as them, but much bigger. Perhaps a bull or ram hybrid, he thought, based on its dark curving horns, but nothing about its scent confirmed that theory. Maybe it was a demon.

It picked Sans up by his ears, which hurt like hell, but the situation was already so bad that a little added pain didn’t make a difference. It lifted him free of the cage he’d shared with Papyrus and closed the door behind him.

“A bunny!”

Sans realized there was a second monster present that hadn’t registered through the fog of his panic and despair. It was smaller than the one that had him (although still huge), with the same kind of horns, dressed in light blue instead of orange, and apparently delighted to see him. Sans kicked feebly as the first monster held him out.

“Don’t struggle, now, bunny,” the taller skeleton chided. “If you’re cooperative, maybe I’ll let your friend go.”

“My brother,” Sans snapped, trying to twist around and glare at his captor, succeeding only in yanking painfully on his ears.

“Even better. No struggling, or your brother meets the same fate.”

Sans froze, hoping against hope that the monster was true to its word, and terrified to find out what fate it had in store for him.

“Poor bunny,” the blue-clad monster said, accepting Sans with gloved hands and mercifully alleviating the tension on his ears. “Don’t worry. I—”

“Blue,” the taller monster cautioned, cutting him off.

“All right, I know, I know. Can I at least pet him first?”

“Yeah, petting won’t hurt.”

Sans found himself cradled against Blue’s chest, pressed up against his sky-blue bandanna. The horned skeleton ran his fingers along Sans’s ears, but the gentle touch was unwelcome and not soothing at all. It only made Sans’s soul pound faster as he subtly turned his skull to see if he could catch sight of Papyrus.

Papyrus jolted as their eyes met, torn between—if not horror, at least deep concern about what was going on—and his default instinct toward a reassuring smile, resulting in a sort of rigid grimace, his ears stuck at half mast. In less dire circumstances it could have been funny in an endearing way. Sans couldn’t bear it and turned to look up at Blue instead.

He instantly regretted it. Blue’s jaw hung open, as if poised to engulf the bunny’s skull, the faint glow of his tongue lighting up the depths.

Sans was mesmerized for a second, but overcame it and pushed himself away, pressing against the creature’s glove. “What’re you doing?” he gasped.

It was the taller one that answered. “What does anyone do with bunnies like you? Don’t forget. No squirming.”

Sans went limp, defeated. Whatever they were going to do to him—and in front of Papyrus, no less—the only thing worse would be the same happening to his brother. “You wouldn’t,” he whimpered.

“Sorry, bunny, but you smell so good.” Blue licked him, soft tongue easily covering his skull and most of his ribs at once.

Sans must have blanked out for a moment, unable to process what was happening, but it didn’t spare him the shock of realizing he was pressed between Blue’s jaws, lying on the deceptively muscular tongue, the larger monster’s moan of pleasure reverberating around him as he was suddenly pushed farther in, the teeth scraping his fibulae. He couldn’t see much around him to begin with in the cramped space, and then nothing but blue magic as his skull was engulfed in the monster’s throat. He could do nothing but squeeze his eyes shut and tolerate the pressure moving down his body as he was swallowed.

***

“Is it good?” Stretch asked when his brother had finished.

“Mmm, yeah. He’s really sad,” Blue answered, glancing almost affectionately toward the skeleton bunny hidden in his stomach.

“I know what’ll make him even sadder.” Stretch grinned.

“Oh no,” Blue protested, but he couldn’t help but grin in anticipation as Stretch turned back to the cage and took out the second bunny.

“Look, he’s already crying.” Stretch handed it over.

“Of course he is, poor bunnies.”

Stretch could tell Blue wanted to say something to alleviate the little monster’s suffering, but that would defeat the point. He gave him a warning frown. “Hush, Blue. You can pet him, though.”

Petting was a good way to assuage Blue’s desire to soothe his victims, because in actuality it only tormented the bunnies further. Especially now that the second bunny was pressed up against the monster it had just seen swallow its brother. Stretch himself felt a twinge of guilt as the bunny rested a hand against Blue’s shirt, leaned against him as if to hug its brother through the ectoflesh.

“Go ahead, Blue. Let them be together.”

The bunny stiffened as Blue brought it into position, but didn’t seriously resist. It probably wanted to be with its brother too. Stretch watched as Blue gulped it down and slurped up its legs.

Stretch gave him a moment, then asked, “Well? How are they?”

“They’re both really sad.” Blue’s eyelights glowed bright. “Nggh, the first one’s really mad too!” He staggered, overwhelmed by the emotion, and Stretch helped him to sit down. “He’s so—mm—hopeless. Such delicious despair!”

“Good, good.” Stretch was pleased his brother was having a good feed.

***

“I’m so sorry, bunnies! I have to do it, you see, or I’ll starve.”

Papyrus blinked his eye sockets open, trying to remember where he was.

“My brother and I feed on emotions, you see. And mine is sadness. So I couldn’t tell you I wouldn’t hurt you, or you wouldn’t have felt so upset and I might not get much nourishment out of it.”

Papyrus felt a towel underneath him, and some slimy liquid cooling on his bones and fur. In front of him was a larger skeleton monster of some kind. After a moment he recognized him as the monster who had eaten—Sans! Where was Sans?

“Don’t worry, you’re not hurt, either of you!” the monster assured him as he caught sight of Sans on the towel next to him, lying still.

Ignoring him for the moment, Papyrus got to his knees and shook Sans gently. “Brother? Please wake up!”

“Five more minutes, bro, just this once,” Sans mumbled.

Papyrus laughed with relief. “Sans! Don’t you want to talk to—”

“Blue,” the monster supplied.

“Don’t you want to hear Blue’s explanation for his behavior? I’m sure he’s very sorry!”

“Yes,” Blue agreed sheepishly. “And if you want to yell at me, that’s okay. I deserve it.”

Papyrus thought about it for a moment as Sans finally sat up. “I for one am not going to yell at you. If you can’t feed on anything but sadness, you don’t have much choice, I suppose! But I’m worried about the, er, intensity of the experience for my brother. He’s capable of rather a lot of sadness.”

Blue looked hungrily at Sans, but his tone was apologetic. “Yes, he was a really excellent meal. It must have been hard on him, to be so sad.”

“What?” Sans scooted closer to Papyrus, watching Blue fearfully.

“Er, Sans? How much do you remember?” Papyrus put an arm around him.

“Enough,” Sans growled. “I remember you and—you! You said you’d let Papyrus go!”

Papyrus noticed the taller monster lounging on a couch some distance behind Blue, pretending not to hear Sans yelling at him.

“Don’t blame Stretch,” Blue pleaded. “It’s my fault, because I’m like this. He was only helping me.”

Papyrus laid his other hand across Sans’s chest, as if he might rush forward and attack the larger monsters at any moment and needed to be restrained. “Well, Blue, I can’t imagine you would have asked to feed on sadness. So there’s no need to blame anyone!”

“Yes there is.” Sans wasn’t straining to get at the larger monsters, but he was coiled and tense.

Papyrus ran his fingers down his brother’s ears. “Come now, Sans, nobody was hurt! And I’m sure they’re both very sorry about deliberately scaring you.”

Blue glanced doubtfully back at Stretch. “Oh, yes, of course! And, um, please let me help you clean up, and anything else I can do to make it up to you.”

“You could start by leaving us alone,” Sans hissed.

Papyrus wavered. He didn’t want to make Sans stay, but the offer of a bath was very tempting when they were both covered in blue slime.

“Sorry.” Blue bowed his head. He probably meant the gesture to be apologetic, but it gave the unfortunate impression of menacing them with his horns. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It wasn’t—really that bad, was it, aside from being scared?”

“I wasn’t—THAT scared.” Papyrus faltered, not wanting to discount Sans’s trauma, but unwilling to focus on the negative aspects of what had happened. “Of course, it was very scary, but—of course I knew Blue could be a good monster in the end! Which means he couldn’t really hurt us.” Blue could probably still do better by not scaring other monsters like that, but Papyrus hadn’t quite figured out how yet.

Sans looked up at him skeptically.

“Really?” Blue leaned forward over the table holding the bunnies and their towel. “Do you think you’d ever want to do it again?”

“Do what again?” Papyrus asked.

Blue grimaced. “You know—get, er, fed off of?”

“You mean let you feed off our emotions? I don’t know if—”

“Not me, my brother!”

“I don’t know if Sans is really—”

“Not him—you.”

“Me? But I’m not sure if I’d be terribly sad about it, now that I know it’s not dangerous.”

“Oh, no, no. Not sadness. I’m asking for my brother.”

The bunnies stared at him, confused. Even Sans let his ears perk up a little with curiosity.

“He feeds on happiness, you see. But it’s hard to find anyone who’s happy about being, um, swallowed alive.”

“Oh!” It all clicked, like solving a puzzle. “You and your brother feed on different emotions, and his is happiness. And the, er, donor has to actually be—inside him? I can see how that would be difficult.”

“Absolutely not.” Sans had an iron grip on Papyrus’s arm.

Papyrus’s ears dipped as he looked down at his brother. “Of course, Sans is quite understandably irritated with you both. But I do hate to turn down an opportunity to help a monster in need! I propose that we get washed up and then give it a little more thought.”

***

“I honestly can’t thank you enough, Sans!” Blue snatched the bunny up into a big hug, nuzzling and pressing their cheekbones together. Sans wasn’t thrilled, he could tell, by the way the bunny tensed and laid back his ears, but he’d have to get over his shyness if they were to go through with it.

“Yeah, well. I couldn’t let my bro come here by himself.”

Papyrus had been chatting with Stretch, who was still lazing on the couch even when they had guests, but he turned to look up at Blue. “You’ll be careful, won’t you, Blue? Are you sure you can’t, er, drain the sadness out, so he stops feeling it?”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.” Blue’s skull hung apologetically, bringing the curved tip of one horn within Sans’s reach.

“What are these for, anyway?”

Blue jumped as Sans grasped the end. “Don’t—Sorry, bunny, you startled me. But, ah, they’re kinda like antennae to detect whatever it is we feed on.” Sans’s fingers seemed to send a current through his bones; he was a bit disappointed when the bunny let go.

“Oh? So in your case, they react to sadness?” Papyrus hopped up to Blue’s shoulder and grabbed the tip of his other horn.

“Hey,” Blue protested, but this time he didn’t feel anything beyond the light touch of the bunny’s fingers. “Wow, I don’t feel anything at all from you. You’re not even a little sad?”

Papyrus’s ears dipped. “I am—concerned—about my brother participating in this. But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy to be able to help!”

“You didn’t have to bring him, you know,” Stretch said, finally sitting up.

“Yes, but he insisted on coming.”

“And we’re both very grateful,” said Blue, wishing Stretch would show it a bit more. “Especially my brother, because it really is hard to find anyone who’s happy about being swallowed, but I’m also glad to see you again, Sans, because even if you don’t have as much sadness as last time—I’d rather a smaller, more reliable meal.” He glanced away. “It means I don’t have to wring out all the sadness I can get. I don’t actually want you to suffer, you know.”

“Must be rough for you,” Sans replied dryly.

“Do you mind if we get on with it?” Stretch reached out toward Papyrus. “Like Blue said, I’m perpetually starving.”

“Of course!” Papyrus hopped into the larger skeleton’s waiting hands.

“Wait, wait!” Sans protested. “Could ya do me first? I don’t know if I wanna see this.”

Blue tilted his skull in consternation. What was Sans’s purpose in coming along if he didn’t want to watch and make sure his brother was eaten safely? “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sans answered, and the absolute misery in his voice made Blue’s mouth water.

Blue held the bunny gently and pressed his tongue against his skull. Sans was trembling. Blue stopped, pulling away. “You don’t actually need to be afraid, you know. I don’t eat fear.”

“What, does it not agree with you?” Sans glared at him, skull glistening wetly.

“No, no, it’s just not the right emotion. Can I do anything to make you less scared?”

“Just hurry up and do it before I change my mind.” The bunny crossed his arms, which seemed to reduce the trembling.

“All right.” Blue raised the bunny to his mouth again, but paused. “Wait. Don’t you think you might be sadder if you watched your brother get eaten first?”

“What, am I not sad enough about this already?”

“No, that’s—” Blue tried to answer, but Sans interrupted him.

“I promise I’ll sulk and feel sorry for myself the whole time, so just get it over with.”

“Okay.” Blue gave him a nuzzle in apology and then stuffed the bunny into his mouth, ignoring the little gasp of surprise and gulping him down quickly.

Even knowing he would survive, Sans was deliciously miserable; in fact, it was a purer emotion without so much anger and betrayal as he’d felt the last time. Blue closed his eye sockets, appreciating the sudden influx; true, it wasn’t quite as intense as before, but having eaten recently he was more able to savor it.

When he came back to his senses, Stretch and Papyrus were both watching him.

“Are you sure Sans is okay?” the bunny asked, tension underlying his habitually cheerful tone.

“Oh, yes, of course. Do you want to see for yourself?”

“Er, I don’t—”

“You can see him from outside. Look.” Blue pulled his shirt up to reveal Sans curled up behind the translucent blue ectoflesh.

“Oh!” Papyrus hopped out of Stretch’s grasp and made a beeline for his brother, but Blue dropped the cloth barrier back into place.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I think seeing you will make him happy,” he explained.

“Come on.” Stretch picked up the unresisting bunny. “It’s your turn now.”

Papyrus’s grin faltered at not being allowed to go to his brother, and Blue tried to think of something encouraging to say to him—Stretch needed him to be happy, after all, and Blue was ironically much better at making monsters happy!

But Papyrus quickly recovered on his own. “Of course! I’m happy to help!”

#undertail vore #nomtheskel writing

[kiruuuuu]

Glaz/Echo oneshot in which they go out together and eat sushi. Simple enough, right? (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~3.7k words) - thank you @magehir​ for the prompt and for generally fuelling any kind of insanity 💜💜

.

“You”, Echo says with pathos while indicating the delicacies laid out in front of them with a grandiose gesture, “are about to have a religious experience.” It could be a painting with how pretty they’re laid down, a speck of colour here, a rich, warm stripe there; a still life mostly kept dark and white, simplistic, tasteful, exquisite. All it needs is a drop of grass green, a touch of a full, earthy colour, and it’s perfect. “You’re going to ascend. Before this, your life was woefully lacking and now it’s about to send you into another dimension of flavour, you’ll taste things you’ve never tasted before. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Next to him, Glaz is following his praise with a raised eyebrow, both amused and sceptical. “It’s just fish and rice”, he states, missing the point so spectacularly Echo is amazed they’re even in the same room when clearly, they must be talking to different people. Because he did not just say that.

“There are a few things I need to tell you before you even touch any of this and if you try to regardless, I’m going to taser you, so be patient.”

“I am very patient”, Glaz replies calmly and as much as Echo might want to convince himself his boyfriend needs to sit on his hands to hold back on devouring the whole platter all by himself, he has to admit that the Russian is indeed nothing but composed. He can’t even successfully weave this into his own narrative because trying to portray it as negative would earn him nothing but a snort and a slight shake of the head which he’d very much deserve. Oh would he ever. Especially after all the patience Glaz has shown him in the unsteady months leading up to their tentative relationship, and even more so afterwards – were Echo religious, he’d call him a saint.

“I’d hope so as I actually have one with me. Since you’re about as adept with chopsticks as a monkey is with a typewriter – implying that potentially, eventually, you’d get something into your mouth but it might take several generations –, you should -”

“Wait, are you for real? You brought a taser?”

Rolling his eyes at the interruption, Echo affirms: “Yes, Manu asked me to take a closer look because she might want a similar version for her drone. Moving on: you can use your hands, that’s how it’s eaten traditionally, and if people stare, just ignore them.”

“When I tell you the same thing while we’re holding hands, you complain.”

Somehow, Echo is beginning to think Glaz is getting tired of his lengthy introduction. “Listen”, he hisses, “that’s two completely different things. This is sacred, alright? No one can tell you how to eat sushi properly, don’t let anyone interfere when you’re sitting down and enjoying some. Unless you’re doing it wrong. Then it’s your own fault.”

“Sweetheart -”

“Don’t call me that.” A quick glance around the room assures Echo that no one is paying attention to them, fortunately. Even now, he’s still paranoid about anyone coming to the wrong conclusion – or maybe it’d be the right conclusion, because they are together, aren’t they? They kiss behind closed doors and spend more nights in each other’s company than not, but it’s different. Isn’t it? Two men, it’s just -

“I’m really hungry. Just tell me what to eat and how.”

Echo snaps out of his brief internal crisis to remind himself that he’s about to introduce a person very dear to his heart to one of his most important passions. “These are called Nigiri and you should dip them fish side down in the soy sauce, just lightly so the rice never touches it, and then you eat them whole. If you bite them off or drench the rice in sauce, you’ll bring dishonour over your entire family.”

“Don’t worry, they support my decisions”, Glaz responds good-naturedly and reaches for a salmon Nigiri, only to pause and sigh when Echo catches his wrist to teach him about which kind of fish to eat first. Was he raised in a barn? “Do I need to visit the kitchen and thank the chef personally for preparing such a beautiful meal for me before I’m worthy enough to even look at it?”

“What? Of course not, don’t be ridiculous.” Echo considers the suggestion for a moment. “Then again, you could -”

Glaz shoots him a look which expresses just how done he is and quickly snags the salmon with his other hand, almost drops it in the soy sauce and pops it into his mouth before Echo can stop him. How very dare he, salmon tastes too strong, now the others – like butterfish – will pale against it and probably not appeal to Glaz as much as they might have had he started out with them, he really has no idea what he’s doing which Echo supposes should be alright as Glaz has never had sushi before, and yet he could’ve listened and that’s when the Russian makes a gagging noise.

And what the fuck.

What the actual, everloving fuck.

“Oh no”, Glaz murmurs around a mouthful of literal ambrosia, grimacing and paradoxically looking like he’s not enjoying himself which is utterly impossible. Only when he downs half his water to apparently wash the taste from his tongue (and who would ever do that?), it dawns on Echo that he’s being serious. And as if he couldn’t be affronted enough, his boyfriend adds a croaked: “This… is disgusting.”

Echo blinks, uncomprehending. “You’re joking, right?”

He has to be. There’s no other way. No one would voluntarily turn down the nectar of the Gods, except for Glaz it looks like, since he’s still making a face and regarding the rest of the sushi warily. “How can you eat this? The fish is cold and still raw, aren’t you going to get sick from this?”

It makes no sense. Scowling up a storm, Echo picks up one of the salmon pieces himself and eats it – maybe the restaurant doesn’t live up to its ratings, but no, it’s delicious. The fish-rice ratio obviously isn’t as generous as in his home country, and the rice isn’t quite the same, but at its core it’s correct and tasty and why doesn’t he like it. “You’re obviously doing it wrong”, he announces, still taken aback.

“Well, I did what you told me and it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever put in my mouth, so that doesn’t really make it my fault.”

“Yes. It absolutely does, there must be something wrong with you. Don’t you Russians eat a lot of fish? How can you dislike this?”

“To be quite honest, I don’t see how you can like this, but go ahead, eat it all and we’ll stop by a chip shop on the way back so I can get something for myself.”

“A chip -” Echo almost chokes on the words. “That’s what you want to have instead? Instead of the pinnacle of haute cuisine worldwide?!”

“I don’t like it, so yes, I’d rather have something else.”

“You haven’t even… You know what, try another piece. Here, this is tuna. Everyone likes tuna. You like tuna, I know as much, so eat it. Maybe put a little wasabi on it.”

Glaz looks at him in exasperation, but it says a lot (and a lot of very positive things about him) that he reaches out nonetheless, just to appease Echo. Sometimes it worries him, the lengths to which Glaz will go to make him happy; it worries him because he’s not sure he won’t keep demanding more. “Wait, wasabi is hot, isn’t it?” As soon as Echo nods, the Russian basically slathers the piece he’s holding in the green paste, probably under the assumption that since he enjoys hot and spicy dishes and doesn’t even shy away from Blitz’ curry, he’ll be alright.

Echo doesn’t get a chance to warn him that chilli and horseradish tolerance are two completely different things because Glaz can be fast when he wants to be, and so he’s merely left to powerlessly (and maybe a tad spitefully) watch as his boyfriend’s eyes widen in disbelief after having gotten a proper taste.

“This”, he gasps and once again reaches for his glass, “is still awful and now my mouth is on fire. Why is my mouth on fire? Masaru, are you trying to kill me?”

“You’ll never get sick from properly prepared sushi, and you only have yourself to blame if you take this much wasabi. I told you it’s hot.”

“Holy crap, I’m dying, give me your wine.” Echo barely gets to open his mouth before Glaz has snatched the aforementioned drink from his side of the table and poured it down his gullet. By now, a few people around them have noticed Glaz’ predicament and glance at them now and then, making Echo’s cheeks redden. Why can’t he just -

“You’re causing a commotion”, he says quietly and is met with a wild look.

“You’re a commotion, I’m still… ow, it hurts. How can you eat any of this?”

“Quietly and more elegantly than you are right now.”

For some reason, Glaz seems to have had enough now and his tone of voice shifts from the one he usually uses for playful banter or mock indignation to genuine irritation. “I just don’t like it, accept it. I’m not going to apologise for what I like or don’t like, this is just – it’s almost slimy in my mouth, and it’s raw on top of that!”

“These kinds of things don’t normally bother you”, Echo shoots back, annoyed as well now. Glaz stares at him, incredulous over the comment, and he feels more blood rush to his face. They’ve both gotten worryingly loud by now, garnering even more attention and it makes him horribly uncomfortable to feel eyes in his back, to know that people are wondering about what’s going on; it turns him prickly and sharpens his words. “It’s an acquired taste, I should’ve figured you’re not ready to appreciate it yet with all that junk you normally eat.”

“You’re usually right there with me, so don’t pretend you’re any better.”

“This is just typical, you never show any respect for my culture.”

“I show no – Masaru, you asked me whether I had electricity growing up!”

“You made no move to learn any Japanese so far.”

“The only word you asked me to teach you in Russian was an equivalent to Yokai so you could go around and wax on about how much you love your stupid drone without anyone realising.”

“Did you just call Yokai stupid?”

“I did, and I’m also calling sushi revolting.”

Momentary outrage makes any retort impossible for Echo, so instead he just gapes at the other man like… well, like a fish out of water. They have their fair share of arguments, some of them valid, constructive and actually useful, some of them none of these things, but Glaz always makes a point out of never hurting or insulting him intentionally. He refrains from saying things out of anger no matter how upset he is and rather withdraws than to resort to name calling, so him going against this really quite important principle signifies that Echo has overstepped a line.

Well. He’s not above doing the same. “And you are a heathen and a philistine who is too blind to appreciate the good things in life.”

“Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, you are, too?”

And when Echo doesn’t respond, Glaz simply gets up and leaves, stalks out of the restaurant and leaves him staring after him.

.

Echo only calls after having drummed sufficiently on his steering wheel with his fingers, then counting until ten red cars have passed him by, and then some. Since he’s parked not directly in front of the restaurant, he felt safe staying for a while until his guilty conscience won and his hands navigated to someone in his contact list by themselves.

Though she sounds busy, Hibana picks up on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up? How’d your date go?”

“It wasn’t a date”, he blurts out without thinking, disregarding the fact that Hibana knows and probably knew before he himself did.

“Right. So how did your date go, you pure ray of sunshine?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“Uh-oh.” Some rustling, and then the noise level on her end drops considerably – she must’ve moved to a more private spot. “Don’t tell me you had another fight?”

“Well. He hated the sushi.” Silence. His friend quite obviously expects him to add something, anything else, but he feels he’s said quite enough.

“… and?”

“He hated it. He called it disgusting. I’ve never been so insulted in my life.”

“You’re telling me you fought because he didn’t like sushi?”

He scoffs. “Wouldn’t you have?”

Hibana allows for a brief grace period during which she quite obviously waits for him to admit to his gaffe, but when he doesn’t, she starts yelling.

.

Mute’s expectant expression turns appallingly smug as soon as he realises for whom he just opened the apartment door. His smirk is so self-satisfied Echo is this close to telling him not to bother, he’ll come back later, preferably when Glaz’ flatmates aren’t home. Or maybe just Mute – for some reason, the Brit watches him like a hawk whenever they interact. “What a pleasant surprise”, Mute announces, crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe in an obvious gesture of denying Echo entry without explicitly stating so. “How come you’re gracing us with your presence?”

“I want to speak to Glaz.”

Even slouched like this, Mute is infuriatingly still a tad taller than him and doesn’t look like he’s moving any time soon. “I bet you do. But what if he doesn’t want to speak to you and asked me to get rid of you if you showed up?”

Panic settles low in Echo’s stomach though he does his best not to show it. It’s going to be fine, they’ve had tiffs like this before and though it never turned out this way with anything as trivial as this (and doesn’t that indicate there’s a different underlying problem behind their disagreement, unsolved trouble neither of them have openly addressed yet) – so it’ll be fine. Right? Glaz still likes him enough to stay with him, but maybe he should apologise still. Just to be safe.

“Then… I’d ask you to convince him to hear me out anyway.”

“Sounds like you have something important to tell him.”

Echo falters. He supposes he does, or rather: there are entirely too many things he probably needs to tell Glaz yet not all of them fit into this context, almost none, in fact, so he’s not sure he’ll go through with it. Still, he nods wordlessly which makes Mute thaw considerably and finally step away to allow him in. “He’s in the living room. Don’t be a twat.”

The glare he sends the Brit only garners a meaningful if sarcastic smile indicating the warning is more than warranted in his eyes, and worst of all, Mute follows him when he steps inside the central room connecting their individual bedrooms. Smoke is half draped over an upset-looking Glaz and spreads out over Mute’s legs as well once he joins them, and Rook, despite seeming cosy all curled up in his armchair, changes his expression to something carefully neutral when Echo enters the room. They’re all staring at him as if he just kicked a puppy, which to be fair -

“Can I… talk to you alone?”, he addresses his boyfriend without much hope for success. The undivided attention he’s getting is leaving him flustered and wondering whether it really was such a good idea to come here – even if Hibana had been awfully blunt about it earlier.

Three pairs of eyes slide back to the flickering TV screen yet the volume is so low there’s no doubt they’re listening anyway. “I’d rather we talk here”, Glaz tells him earnestly. “Or else no one’s going to believe me afterwards.”

Alright. Fair enough. Echo knows how important Glaz’ friends are to him, has learnt it the hard way after he’d dropped a few remarks about the inefficiency as well as idiocy of some of Rook’s work routines (really, if he didn’t spend at least an hour talking to people each day he’d be home so much earlier) and Glaz refused to take his side, even defended the Frenchman. So he wants to spread his love life out before them too. Okay. Echo is… not at all prepared for this but he’ll make it work. “Fine. I just thought you might want to hear what I came to say privately.”

“You might as well practise saying it in the presence of other people, right?” Glaz is not budging and his tone of voice makes it crystal clear he feels it’s more than justified. He seems intent on humiliating Echo, or at least that’s what it seems like to him – never before has he…

“So you know why I’m here?”, he tries buying himself some more time. He thought Glaz would receive him with less anger in his demeanour but if that’s how it is, he’s going to make it count. He’s not going to back away like a coward.

“Of course I know. You came here to tell me one thing and quite frankly, it’s long overdue.”

Is it? Echo frowns but nods reluctantly. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Yes. So go ahead and tell me for the first time since we’ve known each other.”

He’s fidgeting though he’s trying not to, attempting to ignore the others who pointedly don’t look in his direction and manages to focus mostly on Glaz’ expectant face. Over months, he’s been a reliable friend and more, became a soothing warmth beside him not only when they sleep but also in daily life. If he’s going to say it to anyone in his life, it’ll be him and it doesn’t matter that his friends will hear and that it’s awkward and embarrassing because Glaz is worth it nonetheless.

And so he looks him in the eyes and says: “I love you.”

Four people freeze for a moment before turning to gape at him, aghast, with Glaz being the most aghast one of them all, and Echo has no idea what’s going on – especially not when Smoke starts laughing, Rook beams at him happily, Mute nods in a ‘not bad’ gesture and Glaz turns crimson.

“That’s not – Masaru, what the hell -” Thoroughly flustered, the Russian fights his way off the couch only to grab his wrist and drag him into his room, accompanied by excited whispering behind them.

By now, Echo is wholly confused. Did he do something wrong? Was he not supposed to…? He doesn’t get a chance to ask, however, as Glaz immediately slams the door shut, then Echo against it and finally himself against Echo to apparently try and shove his tongue down his throat and oh.

Maybe he didn’t do anything wrong after all.

Sometimes, Glaz’ passion intimidates him just like his devotion does; it’s easy to get caught up in it and lose himself yet right now he has no objections. One of his hands finds its way to Glaz’ dark hair and the other snakes around his torso while they kiss like they’re drowning and when they eventually separate again, they’re both breathless. “Does that mean -”

“Yes”, Glaz interrupts him quietly.

“So you also -”

“Yes.”

“Say it.” He earns a pained look and knows exactly how Glaz feels but he’s not going to let him get away with it. “I’m serious. If you made me say it in front of the others, it’s only fair -”

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted to tell me! I thought you were going to apologise”, Glaz hisses.

And… well. Whoops.

On second thought, that scenario makes a lot more sense than him demanding Echo lay himself bare before his friends, especially since his inability to apologise has been an issue several times before. “Oh”, he says dumbly. It’s not like he’s complaining, not really, not when it ended up with Glaz in his arms and the knowledge that they’re both… But still, there’s something nagging at him.

“Does that mean you’re going to apologise for not liking the sushi?”, he wants to know quite reasonably.

.

Oddly enough, when he gets tossed out of Glaz’ room again with the door being slammed shut once more (though this time it separates them), none of the three people populating the living room bat an eye.

“C’mere, sit down”, Mute tells him, entirely unconcerned over Echo’s dishevelled appearance.

“Shouldn’t I -” He points towards the front door. “Maybe he wants me to leave?”

“Nah. Whatever it is you said this time can’t be worse than what you normally say”, Rook waves his concerns aside. “Especially not after declaring your undying love – you get a few freebies for that.”

After some more non-verbal insisting, Echo awkwardly weaves himself into the British cuddle puddle and nearly gets kneed in the crotch in the process. Part of him is screaming to leave and nurse his wounded pride, both from misunderstanding Glaz completely and generally making a fool of himself, but on the other hand he’d like to spend more time with Glaz. And so he stays.

“Don’t worry”, Smoke grins at him, “Glaz is gonna cool off in a bit and it’ll all be fine, forgiveness runs rampant in this flat. I ate the entire chocolate cake Manu made for us and Mark still loves me.”

This gets him Mute’s undivided attention as well as a death glare. “You did what?!”

And while an enraged Mute tries to throw his lover off the sofa for such insolence, Echo thinks back to Glaz’ previous words. He’s probably right, there are some things in life he’s not appreciating enough and it’s not only Glaz himself. It’s good friends as well.

Maybe he should call Hibana later and thank her.

Or he could invite her out for some sushi instead.

#rainbow six siege #glaz #echo #glaz/echo #fanfic #oneshot #also these two would need some time #but they could be utterly adorable and wholesome #whoever gets together with glaz mute rook or twitch #basically adopts the rest as family

[emospritelet]

I absolutely adore Homecoming. Prompt 19 - “You know it’s traditional, right?”

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

AO3 link

Belle sat quietly in front of the mirror of her dresser, watching as Ivy brushed her hair until it shone and pinned the curls up into a loose bun at the back of her head.  Ivy was a pretty young woman, with large dark eyes and black hair held back from her face with a neat white cap.  She had eyed Belle with curiosity ever since she had come to the room and announced that she would be helping her to dress, and Belle couldn’t help wondering what the servants must think of her, this governess being treated like an honoured guest.  She hoped that it wouldn’t cause resentment, but thus far everyone had been kind and welcoming.

She was clad in her one formal evening dress.  Lady Ella had kindly bought it for her, to attend the dinner to celebrate her daughter’s final night at home before heading off to Europe.  The dress was a pretty thing in blue silk with little ruffles running down the bosom and tiny pearl buttons.  She had silk shoes to match, and gloves that reached to her elbows.  Her one piece of jewellery, a cameo brooch that had belonged to her mother, was pinned at her throat.  Looking at her reflection, she felt like a fraud, a penniless woman pretending to be a lady of means. She had the breeding, but certainly not the money.  Mr Ogilvy’s generous wage would last only as long as the children needed to be taught, and she suspected that Nicholas, at least, would be sent away to school in a year or two.  It was always so, in her experience.

“Just a little longer, Miss Marchland,” said Ivy, securing another curl with a pin.  “I need to re-pin this back section.”

“Thank you,” said Belle.  “Is anyone else coming for dinner this evening?”

Ivy shook her head.

“Just you and Mr Ogilvy, the Professor and Miss Alice,” she said.

“How long have you worked here?” asked Belle.

“Since I was fourteen, Miss.”

“And you like it?”

“Oh yes,” said Ivy immediately.  “It’s a nice family.  A little odd, Miss, if you’ll pardon me for saying so.  The Professor - well, he’s in a world of his own half the time.  Kind, though.”

“And - and Mr Ogilvy?” asked Belle, and Ivy pursed her lips.

“He’s kind too,” she said.  “Took in Miss Alice, and the two little ones, and treats them like they’re his own.  Not many men would do that.  I wish he wasn’t so sad, though.”

“You think he’s sad?” asked Belle.  “He seemed very cheerful to me when I met him.”

Ivy was silent for a moment, twisting the lock of hair in her fingers and pinning it up.

“I think he lost someone, Miss,” she said eventually.  “Someone he cared about.  Has that look in his eyes.”

“Oh.”  Belle glanced at her reflection in the mirror.  “He said I reminded him of someone.  Was there a Mrs Ogilvy?”

Ivy shrugged.

“Not since I started work here,” she said.  “Before that, Miss, I couldn’t say.”

She pushed a final pin into Belle’s hair and stepped back.

“Thank you,” said Belle, turning her head from left to right.  “That’s so much better than I could ever manage.”

Ivy smiled at that, and left her to it.  Belle sighed to herself, smoothing her hands over her skirt restlessly.  It was almost eight, so she rose from the dresser and checked her appearance one last time before making her way downstairs.  The dining room was easy enough to find, and to her relief it wasn’t large and draughty as Lady Ella’s had been.  It was decorated in olive green damask wallpaper, oil lamps and candles sending out a warm glow, and a fire burned at the end of the room beneath a carved marble mantelpiece, giving the room a welcome warmth.  The shining mahogany table would comfortably seat twelve, she thought, but didn’t look too sparse having been set for four.

Mr Ogilvy sat at the head of the table, and a short old man with white hair and a somewhat distracted expression was in the seat two places down on his left.  The Professor, she assumed.  Both of the men were formally attired in black dress coats with white waistcoats and starched shirts, white bow ties at their throats.  They stood as soon as she entered, and the girl with them smiled at her, a ribbon holding back tousled blonde curls and a pretty dress in dusky pink setting off the colour in her cheeks.  That must be Miss Alice.

“Miss Marchland,” said Mr Ogilvy warmly, rounding the edge of the table and stepping forward.  “We’re so glad you could join us.  I trust you’ve settled in?”

“Thank you,” she said.  “Everyone’s been so kind.”

“And the room?” he asked, almost anxiously.  “It’s satisfactory?”

“More than satisfactory,” she said hastily.  “It’s a beautiful room.  It’s - well, it’s fit for a princess.”

“Excellent,” he said.  “Tomorrow I’ll introduce you to the children, and show you around the place.  The schoolroom is fairly well stocked, but if there’s anything you need, anything at all, please inform me.”

“I will, thank you.”

He was smiling at her, the lamplight gleaming in his eyes and picking out threads of gold and silver in his hair.  She noticed that he was turning the moonstone ring on his finger as he looked at her, and he seemed almost unaware of it.  The other man cleared his throat, and Ogilvy started, dropping his hands to his sides.

“Please, allow me to introduce you,” he said, gesturing to the man beside him. “This is Professor Lowe, my very good friend.”

“Miss Marchland.”  The Professor scurried forwards, taking her hands in his and beaming at her as though she were a favoured daughter.  “Wonderful to meet you.  Simply wonderful.  Marvellous.”

“I - thank you, Professor,” she said.  “I was delighted to be offered this opportunity.”

She was a little taken-aback by his effusive greeting.  He was gazing up at her adoringly, and she could almost have sworn there were tears in his eyes.  He blinked rapidly, releasing her hands and taking a step back.

“Oh, you can just call me Doc, dear,” he said.  “Everyone does.”

“I—”  She was unsure how to respond to that.  This family is very odd.

“He’s not wrong,” said Alice suddenly, the accent of one of the poorer parts of the city strong in her voice.  “No need to be alarmed, Miss Marchland, we’re as sane as you, I promise.  Papa’s just in a strange mood today, it seems, and now Doc’s caught it.”

“And this is Alice,” said Ogilvy in a dry tone.  “A cheeky nuisance I don't seem to have been able to get rid of."

"You love me really," said Alice, batting her eyes at him, and his smile grew.

"Miss Marchland, please take a seat.”

He gestured to the table, and Belle hesitated.  There was a place set for her, in the chair to his right.  Its positioning made her frown a little in confusion, but she took her seat without comment.  If they wished to treat her as an honoured guest rather than an employee, it spoke well of them.  Alice sat opposite her and to Ogilvy’s left, with the Professor next to her.  He asked a question, something innocuous about Lady Ella, and Belle picked up the cue with ease, talking about her previous position and the gardens at Furton Grange while they were served a delicious beef consommé.

“I’m afraid this house isn’t as grand as you’re used to,” said the Professor, gesturing with his spoon.  “It’s comfortable enough, though.”

“Oh, it’s lovely,” said Belle hastily.  “I’m anxious to explore the library.  It’s always exciting to find new books.”

The two men exchanged a tiny smile, and Ogilvy spoke up.

“I spend a lot of time in the library myself,” he said.  “I have an adjoining study. Oh, now that I mention it, the study has a safe.  If you have anything valuable you wish to keep in there - jewellery, for example - you would be very welcome.”

Belle smiled.

“Thank you, but this is the only thing of value I possess,” she said, tapping the cameo at her throat.  “It belonged to my mother.  I have no other pieces of jewellery.”

“Ah.”  He seemed to deflate a little, and his eyes flicked to the Professor. “Well, should that change, do please let me know.”

Belle smiled and nodded, and he returned his attention to his plate.  There was a little small talk about the weather and the approaching Christmas festivities, and then the Professor asked about her studies, a subject on which she could have happily talked for hours.

It was some time between the fried fillets of plaice and the veal sweetbreads in cream sauce that Belle first caught Ogilvy looking at her.  He had said little to her, leaving his friend to take up the reins as host.  The Professor, it turned out, taught history at King’s College, and Belle entered into a spirited discussion with him about the Plantagenets.  She happened to glance to Ogilvy as she paused for breath, and he was watching her with a tiny smile on his face and a soft, almost wistful look in his eyes.  As though he could hardly believe she was real.  He looked away a moment after she caught his eyes, but she could feel his eyes on her during the remainder of the dinner. Surprisingly, it didn’t make her feel uncomfortable.  Merely curious.

Alice was fairly quiet, concentrating on her food for the most part, but her eyes kept flicking from Ogilvy to Belle, and there was a faint air of puzzlement about her, a thoughtfulness in her gaze.  She sat back once the meal was over, fingers tapping against the edge of the table, chewing distractedly on her lower lip.

“Alice,” said Ogilvy gently, and she started.

“Oh!” she said.  “Yes!  Um - Miss Marchland, we’re supposed to go to the drawing room now.”

Belle dabbed at her lips with her napkin to hide a smile, then laid it aside and followed Alice from the room.  The drawing room was smaller and warmer, with soft couches upholstered in cream and red striped cotton, cushions covered in red damask silk in their corners.  There was a tray of tea things ready for them, and Alice poured for them both, handing a cup to Belle before taking her own.  They sat down on one of the couches, and Alice took a sip of her tea, eyeing Belle over the rim.

“What are you going to teach Ava and Nicholas?” she asked.

“I’ll assess where they are at the moment, before I make any decisions,” said Belle.  “As I understand it, they’ve had little in the way of formal education.”

“They’re bright enough,” said Alice.  “I think they can read and write a little.  Probably better with numbers.  Money.  I know I was, at their age.”

“Perhaps.”  Belle took a sip of tea.  “I’ll know more tomorrow, and I can devise a curriculum.”

Alice seemed to hesitate a little.

“I - I don’t want lessons as such, myself,” she said.  “But - well, I thought perhaps you could teach me how to act more - ladylike.”

Belle smiled.

“Of course, if you wish.”

“I think most of it’s nonsense,” added Alice.  “But I’ve spoken to quite a few people of my own age who - well, who don’t share my background - and it’s almost like there’s this secret code I can’t break through.  I suppose I’ll have to start going out into society soon, and I don’t want to embarrass Papa and Doc because I sat in the wrong place or insulted someone by accident.”

“Very wise.”

“I mean, if I insult someone, I want it to be because they deserve it.”

Belle wanted to giggle, but simply smiled.

“I’d be more than happy to teach you the many, varied, exhausting rules of etiquette,” she said.

Alice groaned, and they shared a chuckle.  Belle added a little more milk to her tea, stirring it gently and tapping the spoon against the rim.

“We put the Christmas tree up tomorrow,” said Alice.  “Papa likes to bring pine boughs and mistletoe and holly in the house in time for midwinter, but we always get the tree on Christmas Eve.”

“I look forward to seeing it,” said Belle, smiling.  “Watching the tree being decorated was always my favourite part of Christmas.”

“You can help us!” said Alice eagerly.  “It’ll be Ava and Nicholas’s first proper Christmas, with a tree and presents and roast goose.  I can’t wait to see their faces!”

“Oh, you have goose?”  Belle beamed.  “Lady Ella always had turkey.  I must confess I do prefer goose.”

“Roast goose and plum pudding and mince pies, and all of us getting a little fatter,” said Alice cheerfully.  “You know it’s traditional, right?”

Belle took a sip of tea, smiling into her cup, and Alice sighed, glancing towards the door.

“I don’t know why we have to sit in here drinking tea while they have port and brandy and cigars,” she remarked.  “Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“It’s the way things are done, I suppose,” said Belle.  “One of those tiresome rules you want to learn.  Perhaps that will change.  When I was your age women couldn’t even ride bicycles without causing an uproar.”

“Not sure it’s all that better now,” said Alice.  “My last governess said they weren’t ladylike, and if I rode one I’d get ‘bicycle face’ and no man would ever marry me.  As though that was some sort of threat.”

She curled her lip, and Belle smiled.

“Well, I certainly shan’t discourage you,” she said.  “I think it’s a very healthy form of exercise.  Of course, it’s not up to me.  I’m afraid that in my experience, men and women can have conflicting ideas about the appropriate activities a young lady should be involved in.”

“Oh, Papa wouldn’t stop me,” said Alice carelessly.  “I realise he’s trying to do things properly this evening, for some reason, but they’re not usually like this.  Most nights they’re sitting around in smoking jackets, arguing about history and drinking whisky.  It seems you’re an honoured guest.”

“I can’t think why,” said Belle, setting her cup back in its saucer.  “But it’s very kind of you all to show me this much attention.  I certainly wasn’t expecting to be asked to dine with the family.”

She glanced down at her dress, the silk shining in the lamplight, and Alice seemed to read her mind.

“I suppose that’s your best dress?” she asked kindly.  “I only had one thing to wear when I got here, and that wasn’t even fit for rags.  I can tell Papa, he’ll get you new clothes.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t let him do that,” said Belle hastily.  “You’re very kind, but it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“He did it for me,” said Alice, with a shrug.

“Yes, but you’re—”  Belle cut off, shaking her head.  “Ivy told me he took you in, treated you as his daughter.  I think your status in this household is somewhat different from mine.”

Alice sipped at her tea.

“Maybe it is.”

She looked amused, smiling behind her cup, and Belle wondered what she was thinking.  She took another sip of her tea.

“How old were you when you came to the house?” she asked, and Alice pursed her lips, frowning a little as she placed her cup back in its saucer.

“I was seven or eight, I think,” she said eventually.  “Around the same age as Nicholas and Ava are now.  Tried to pick Papa’s pocket, but he was too quick for me.  I swear Doc told him I was gonna do it: he seemed to know I was there before I even made a move.”

“What happened?” asked Belle curiously, and Alice giggled, a mischievous light in her eyes.

“He grabbed me, lifted me into the air so my kicks wouldn’t reach him, and just looked at me with this tiny smile on his face as I called him every name under the sun,” she said frankly.  “Then he told me that I looked as though I needed a decent meal, and to follow them home if I wanted one.  So I did.  Still calling him every terrible name I could think of.  Mrs Wolfe threatened to wash my mouth out with soap three times that first day.”

Belle couldn’t help smiling.

“But you’re happy here?” she asked.

“Oh yes!” said Alice eagerly.  “They’re both so kind, and I got to learn to read and write properly, and Papa teaches me science.  I just wish they’d let me help out with their investigations.”

“Investigations?”

“Yes.”  Alice put down her cup.  “They investigate things.  Strange occurrences, hauntings, that sort of thing.  Supernatural encounters, Doc calls them.”

“Really?”  Belle raised a sceptical eyebrow.  “Isn’t that sort of thing just pranks and hoaxes, like knocking on tables and flickering lights?  Parlour games to scare people?”

Alice shrugged.

“Not according to them,” she said.  “Sometimes they’ll hear of something, or read of a strange case in the newspapers, but they also get letters asking them for help.  So off they go to look into it, whenever Doc isn’t teaching. Sometimes Papa goes alone.”

“Well.”  Belle was unsure what to make of this latest revelation.  “It sounds very - interesting.”

“Yes,” said Alice thoughtfully.  “I just wish they’d take me with them when they go away, that’s all.  Papa said they would, next time they go.”

“Do they travel a lot?” asked Belle, taking a sip of tea.

Alice rolled her eyes, huffing a breath and making one of her blonde curls dance on the breeze.

“They’ll be home for a couple of months,” she said.  “And then they’ll get a letter, or Doc will get one of his notions, and immediately they’re packing up and heading off.  Sometimes they even go to Scotland or France or over to Ireland, and I have to stay here.  It’s not fair.”

“Oh.”  Belle set down her cup.  “I have to confess that I haven’t left the country in ten years or more.  Lady Ella and her daughter used to go to Paris a lot, but I was never asked to accompany them.”

“Well, perhaps Papa will take you with them when they go,” said Alice.  “As well as me.”

Belle smiled at that.

“I suspect I’ll be asked to stay here to care for the children,” she said.  “You’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back.”

Alice smiled, and set her empty cup back on the little table, sitting back a little and folding her hands in her lap.

“Perhaps they won’t go away at all,” she said.  “Perhaps they’ve found what they were looking for.”

#hey nonny nonny #fic: homecoming #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle #ogilvelle

[writeradamanteve]

Campbughead  @writeradamanteve: Day Twenty : Science Fiction

COWBOY JONES

Words: 4,837

Chapters: 1/2

Rating: Eventual Smut

Pairing: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones

Summary: To get away from her overbearing mother, Betty jumped at the chance to work as a mechanic for the Whyte Wyrm. The ship’s captain, FP Jones flies across the galaxy hunting bounties for a living with his son and daughter and their lives are as exciting as they are mundane. Betty’s ready to adventure with this ragtag family of space cowboys (and when she wasn’t working, daydream about the handsome Cowboy, Jughead Jones).

ONE

Betty tapped her spoon on the edge of the bowl and it made flat, metallic clinks.  The bowl was huge, intended for mixing large portions of food, like Garden-tossed Salad or a macaroni dish that served three, but all of the smaller bowls were still in the sink, unwashed from the previous night’s homemade macaroni and cheese.  It had been Jughead’s turn to wash the dishes and it wasn’t a surprise he had shirked it.  He shirked as much housework as he could, but Betty refused to clean up after him.  She may have feelings for the 3rd Quandrant’s most effective cowboy, but she wasn’t going to let him push her around.

At the bottom of the bowl was a pile of cereal and some chunks of a banana.  The banana was still okay, but in about a day or two it would be overripe.

Combined with the stale bread we could actually make decent pudding.  

She shook her head after the thought. She was getting tired of being the only one in this goddamn spaceship who cared to think about recipes for leftovers. Before she came around, the Joneses tended to let their leftovers rot in the fridge.

I swear, they’d all expire if I weren’t around.  

It was a little past eight and she expected that the other occupants of the Whyte Wyrm would be waking up soon. FP was usually up around the same time she was, but he must’ve been exhausted from that last bounty they had to catch.

They had been successful, thank goodness. They needed the funds, as evidenced by the low food supply, but Jughead had said payment wasn’t due to arrive for another two days. Alliance money came slower when it needed to be transferred from the 1st to 3rd quadrants of space.

This, quite understandably, put Jughead in a foul mood. He was swearing all the way back from the planet Ursula K in his speedcraft, which he dubbed Hitchcock. His profanity had clogged Betty’s radio frequency for minutes on end.

She normally didn’t mind when he cursed up a storm, but this time, she tuned him out, his swearing was so bad.  

He was also, still asleep, though he might be waking up soon.

JB’s sleep schedule didn’t count as a schedule.  Her hours were as erratic and random as she was; she slept when she wanted, wherever she wanted, whether it was on the couch, on the stairs or on the kitchen table.

Betty moved the cereal and banana around.  They were fresh out of milk, but there had been some chocolate syrup in one of the cupboards.  

Desperate for some semblance of breakfast, she had poured some of the syrup on top of her mixture. Everything, after all, was good with chocolate.

Her mother, Alice Cooper, would be furious if she knew her daughter was having chocolate first thing in the morning. Then again, her mother wasn’t here. She was at least two wormholes away, which was how Betty preferred it. She wouldn’t have had taken FP’s job posting for a space mechanic if she didn’t.

The chocolate was predictably delicious and probably unhealthy, but she figured she needed the fat anyway. Her shorts were loosening and she thought perhaps her boobs were shrinking.

The thing about living in the Whyte Wyrm and depending on bounty rewards for their prosperity was that food was either in abundance or went starvation levels low. Feast or famine.  It was therefore smart to load up on calories when there was something, anything in the pantry.

To the side of the bowl was her coffee and she took a sip of it.

She breathed in its fresh aroma and sighed happily.  Decrepit as their lives could get on the ship, they at least believed in good coffee.  FP always insisted on buying the best brand.  Betty had no complaints, even when it was her turn to buy the groceries.

Betty felt the caffeine invade her system, and it was good.

She began to munch on her makeshift breakfast as little by little, she felt less aggravated by their lack of food supply.

There was a sound behind her, and judging by the light but slow stride, it was Jughead.  Betty didn’t even bother to look.  Newly out of bed, Jughead was even less sociable than usual.

In the morning, Jughead was what her mother would classify a disgrace to the public.  His ink-black, scraggy locks tended to look a bit bent out of shape and the scowl on his face was enough to deter everyone who saw him from making smart-ass comments about it.  

He shambled out of his bunk in wrinkled combat pants and his white, wife-beater shirts, sometimes torn, sometimes yellowing from overuse. Sometimes he didn’t wear a shirt at all, which often caused Betty to wonder if he wore anything under those pants of his.

Not that she was complaining. Jughead Jones wasn’t a tank, by any means. His limbs were long and his body was lean, but those lines of muscles were certainly there. Like his body was pulled tight, and she liked it. She liked it a lot.

He took one look at her and she met his gaze with an arch of her eyebrow. She was ready for him, but he hadn’t even had his coffee yet.

Jughead made no comment, heading straight for the coffee machine.  He poured himself a mug and he padded to the stool beside her, hunched over his cup.  She paid him no attention as she munched on her breakfast and drank her own coffee.

After a while, probably after the caffeine kicked in, he was awake enough to speak.  “What’s that?”  He was looking into her huge bowl.

“Cereal, banana, and chocolate syrup.”

“Where’s the milk?”

“We ran out.”

He was silent, probably cursing the emptiness of their refrigerator, and again the delayed reward, in his mind.  There was a spoon on the table; neither of them knowing from whence it came, but Jughead didn’t seem to care.  He took it, polished both sides of it with the edge of his shirt and began to point it towards Betty’s breakfast.

She scowled.  “Really, Jug? There are still a couple of bananas in the fridge. Go make your--”

Ignoring her, Jughead tugged at her bowl and began to eat.  She rolled her eyes and scratched at her scalp irritably.

“This is good,” he said through a mouth full of cereal and banana.

Sighing, Betty’s only response was to eat before he finished all of it.

Halfway through the meal, she caught him staring at her cleavage. She pretended not to notice, but she might have adjusted her shoulder slightly to give him a better view. She noticed that Jughead liked this particular shirt on her. She was yet to call him out on it.

He tore his eyes away from them seconds later, his face noticeably red.

She didn’t have that many clothes to wear. When she accepted FP’s job offer, she had rushed home, taken what she could into her small suitcase, and hurried out before her mother could stop her.  She left a video message for her mother to find and by the time Alice Cooper found it, she was halfway across the galaxy in the Wyrm.  

As a result, Betty’s clothing choices were limited.  She could shot for new things, of course, but she preferred to save as much as she could instead of blowing it off on shopping.  All she needed to do her job was a shirt and overalls. When she wasn’t working, she wore shirts and shorts. She had one sundress for special occasions. That hadn’t been busted out yet. There weren’t many social events to go to in their line of work. Bounty hunting wasn’t a very socially inclined industry.

Still, it didn’t mean she didn’t care what Jughead thought of her. If she ever bothered to wear clean clothes, nicely fitted shirts, and painted toenails, it was because she wanted Jughead to notice, and while he did seem to notice sometimes, he never said anything, which kind of drove her crazy.

And annoyed her. Constantly. Especially now, when he was eating her breakfast.  

It was time to call him out. If only for her own sanity.

“Were you just looking at my boobs?”

He choked on the dry cereal, causing his face to redden even more. “Jesus, Betty.”

“Well, were you?” she cried.

He looked like he was struggling. He probably was. With the cereal. With his words. “You know, you wear a shirt like that--”

“This old thing?”

He dealt her a look that was less than amused. “Shoot me, alright. I’m exhausted, I’m hungry, and they were--you were in my line of sight. It’s just--I’m just too tired to look away, okay?”

She wondered about Jughead sometimes. She’d never once seen him come home with a girl (or guy) or left with his whereabouts unknown. He always got back to the Wyrm alone and only left for assignments, or quick errands.

For a good looking, healthy twenty-something, who didn’t appear like he was awkward with those who were overtly attracted to him (she’d seen him grin cockily at a few admirers, men and women of varying species, even) he sure didn’t seem to have much of a sex life.

Not that she was doing any better.  She hadn’t gotten laid for far too long.

Jellybean swooped into the kitchen, her laptop open in her hands. She was typing something on it, her fingers flying.  “Morning, grouch!” she said to her brother without looking at him.

He grunted, but he turned away from Betty, probably relieved that a distraction bailed him out of his very awkward situation.

Hotdog, the Joneses’ sheep dog, followed her in, yipping excitedly, after which he began to lick Betty’s perfectly manicured toes.

“Ugh!  Hotdog!  Gross!”

Jughead laughed upon seeing the disgusted look on her face.

“Aw, he just likes you, that’s all,” Jellybean said, not looking up from her laptop.  

Betty liked Jellybean. She was a sweetheart, but she often had her head in the clouds. She never had any in-depth conversations with Betty, only fleeting, distracted ones. So she figured Jellybean wouldn’t care if she skipped making nice for stopping Hotdog from slobbering her foot.  She tried desperately to shake Hotdog off her.

Hotdog simply refused to leave Betty alone, so she lifted her foot, growling menacingly in the hopes of scaring Hotdog off, but she miscalculated her balance and she promptly began to topple back on her seat.  She screeched.

Jughead lunged, and was brutally punished for his good deeds with Betty’s foot as it swung up and hit him square on the chin.

“Dammit, Betty!”

Betty figured it was going to be a pretty bad fall and she braced herself for impact, so she was relieved when her head remained suspended above the floor, her butt still wedged on the stool.  She craned her neck and found that Jughead had grabbed her ankle as he glared at her.

“We don’t exactly have proper health insurance, you know,” he muttered.  He reached over with his other hand, grabbing her by her upper arm.  He yanked her up to sit her up, and she told herself she only imagined the extra rub her arm felt as he disengaged his hand.

“That damn foot’s like a sledgehammer,” he muttered.

Ruffled, but otherwise unharmed, Betty tried to regain as much of her dignity as she could.  “Sorry, the dog--”

“Bad Hotdog!”

The dog whimpered.

Betty was surprised he yelled at the dog. Jughead tended to snort off any inconvenience Hotdog had visited upon her, like when the dog chewed on her slippers, or when he peed on the side of her speedcraft. Maybe she was finally being let in?

And while she was trying to understand the moods of Jughead Jones, she realized that he saved her a bad knock to the head.  “Th-Thanks.”

Jughead arched an eyebrow.  “For yelling at the dog?”

“For catching me.”

“Yeah, well…” He began eating the rest of her cereal. She let him.

Jellybean started singing a pop song.  A grin spread on her face as she looked at the bottle of chocolate syrup.  There was a cartoon cow on it.  “You know what planet outside of earth has cows?”

Betty sighed.  She still couldn’t believe she understood that as Jellybean-speak for “I have something.”

“No JB,” she replied. “What planet outside of earth has cows?” Not that she was expecting a straight answer….

Jellybean’s fingers wiggled and danced over the keyboard.

Betty exchanged raised eyebrows with Jughead before they turned to watch Jellybean with growing interest.  Several faces came up on screen, set side by side on a grid; men and women with bounties written below them.

“Pick a face, Betty!”

Sometimes, Betty just found it easier to do what she was told. She pointed to a face of a man. Handsome and rugged. His bounty was also the biggest on the page. “Jason Blossom.”

Jellybean nodded.”Good choice! I knew you’d pick him for his dashing good looks and inspired bounty. Blew up a stadium, this one. Accidentally, I’ve found. But he inadvertently killed the Prime Minister’s daughter so...”

Jughead snorted. “Dead man walking. Did you find him, JB?”

She nodded, delighted by her own success. “He’s raising cows in Oberlin Major. For beef. He’s a space rancher.” She typed a few more things on her laptop before she pressed the final button with a flourish and turned it around so that both Betty and Jughead were looking at the screen.

It showed a crowded space port on one half of the screen, like a video feed. On the other half was Jason Blossom’s face with pin-pricks of pixels dancing over it.

“Face recognition software?” Betty asked.

Jellybean wiggled her fingers maniacally. “My special program. Better than any of the ones in the market.”

“Better, how?” Jughead asked.

“It crawls data by geo-location.”

Betty and Jughead exchanged looks. That was most certainly illegal, but then again, Jellybean’s primary function was to get them through the inconveniences of galactic red tape.

The frequency of the pixels followed the movements of the video, until finally, the pixel flashed on and off, corresponding to a face in the crowd that seemed to match the flashing pixels on Jason’s face.

Betty leaned over to look more closely at the feed. “Is that--Is that him in a wig?”

“That’s a girl,” said Jughead.

“How do you know it’s not him dressed as a girl?”

Jellybean started to giggle madly as she pulled up the information about Jason. “Jason Blossom of Thornhill Mansion has a twin, Cheryl!”

The young hacker pulled up another video of Cheryl in the terminal, stepping into a passenger ship. Jellybean paused the video and zoomed in on the digital sign perched on the ship’s dock. The sign said, “Oberlin Major, Boarding.”

Betty’s eyes widened and she pointed to the picture. “You figured out Jason Blossom was Oberlin through that? She could’ve been going there for something else entirely.”

Jellybean began to wiggle her arms.  “My ways are mysterious and brilliant.”

“That’s for sure,” said Jughead from the corner of his mouth.  

Jellybean pressed some commands on her laptop then peered at her monitor.  “A movie is filming at his ranch. That’s how I found him. And cows. Cows outside of Earth are delightful curiosities.”

Betty chuckled. This girl was crazy and delightful. She wished Jellybean would let her in more.

Jellybean cracked her fingers. “On the set of the unreleased film Rocketship Salsa, someone took a picture and posted it on Instantgram.” She turned her monitor around again, showing them a photo of a fan with one of the actors of the movie. In the background, there was a blurry outline of a cow and a redhead. Jellybean zoomed into the picture, cleared up the pixelation, and clicked “Match” on her facial recognition interface. The software blinked excitedly. Jason’s face matched with the figure in the picture.

Betty was, once again, thoroughly impressed.

Jughead made a sound and nodded.  “The real crime here is that a film named Rocketship Salsa is being made because they think it will make them money..”

Betty shot him a look, but she did follow it up with an amused grin. “So are you and FP going for it?”

“Hells, yes. It might even pay us sooner than that goddamn bounty yesterday.” He ruffled his hands through his hair and Betty longed to touch those silky strands.

Do I even have enough batteries left in my vibrator, I wonder?

Betty sighed. She needed an occupation.  “Can I come with? This ship is running perfectly and I’m really, really… ” horny “... bored.”

He seemed to be thinking about it. It wasn’t as if she’d never done a run with them before. She was handy enough with a firearm to help where she was needed, but it was never a given. She always had to ask, and while FP tended to just say, “Sure thing!”, Jughead always seemed to be resistant to the idea.  

She exaggerated batting her eyelashes and pouting her lips. “Please?” She might have angled a bit for some cleavage, too. She wasn’t above that right now. If he jumped her, she wasn’t going to complain.

He rolled his eyes. “Christ, fine. But do as I say. If something happens to you, this hunk of junk will give out at some point and then we’ll really miss you.”

The only reason what he said didn’t hurt was because he was half-grinning as he said it.

Betty clapped her hands. “Wonderful! JB, send me all that info, won’t you?”

“Okie, dokie.”

“Hey, does dad know about all this, JB?” Jughead asked, pressing the buttons on his wrist tagger. A screen projected above it and he moved some data around--probably the information Jellybean sent him.  

Jellybean shook her head.  “Dad was up early and left early.”

Betty was surprised about that. She made a grunting sound.

“One has to wonder,” muttered Jughead, probably meaning he didn’t really care.

“Dad took the Chopper and I didn’t ask, but I could track him.”

“Don’t bother,” said Betty and Jughead in unison. One thing Betty learned about living in the Whyte Wyrm was that FP always came back and it was always better not to know what FP was up to in his free time.  It was either too embarrassing or too illegal. Either way, both her and Jughead didn’t want to know.

They looked at one another for about two seconds before they realized that both of them would be needing the shower.  Betty had a one-second head start being nearer to the door as she shot down the hallway.  Jughead was close at her heels.

As the bathroom door came into view, she grinned triumphantly to herself.  But in the next second, she felt strong arms grabbing her from behind and shifting her around.  Mid-shift, she planted her feet against the wall and kicked, slamming Jughead against the opposite wall in the narrow hallway.

Jughead’s grip didn’t loosen in the least, but her leg muscles were strong enough to make him immobile, pressed between her and the wall.

Jughead cursed his predicament profusely.

Betty was too annoyed to gloat.  “Dammit, Jughead!  You can’t cheat me out of first-shower rights!”

Jughead grunted against the pressure.  “Since when did either of us make first-shower rights easy?”

She exerted more pressure and he growled.

“Stop that!  Are you hoping to suffocate me?”

Betty growled in frustration.   “This was funny the first 3 times but it’s getting old, Jones!”

In spite of himself, he laughed. “Speak for yourself!”

“Look, Jughead.  Just let me bathe first and I promise you, I won’t use up all the hot wate—“

“Like hell!”

“Even if I do, at least I don’t leave the floor and towels sopping wet; and I don’t make mush out of the soap, either!”

“Betty, get offa me!”

“I’m using that bathroom first, dammit!”

“Okay!  I’ll let you! Just get the fuck off!”

“Promise!”

“Okay, already!”

“Say it, fucker!”

“I promise! God-dammit, Betty!”

She slackened her legs and he let her go.

Barely keeping her balance, she turned and arched an threatening eyebrow. If he tried anything...  

He put his hands up and grinned, then his eyes flickered down to her her collar.

Once again checking her out.

You know, that shower’s big enough to fit two people smashed together.

She wanted to say it, but lost her nerve. When he didn’t do anything, she took a deep breath and headed for the shower.  

8888888888888888

By the time Betty was done getting dressed for the day, Jughead was already lounging on the couch, letting his hair dry.  Jellybean sat on the table, humming a made-up tune as she tapped away on her computer, and Hotdog was Hotdog, watching her warily in case she had an urge to kick him out of the way.

Jughead gave her one look and arched an eyebrow.  “You look… different.”

She rolled her eyes impatiently.  Of course she looked different; she had finally put on her sundress.  It was an airy green spaghetti strap with small flowers dotting it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was perfect for a romp out in the arid climate of Oberlin Major.

“Don’t wait up for me,” she said, slinging her strappy gold sandals over her shoulder.

Jughead watched her leave for their docking port.

She climbed into the Vixen, her personal speedcraft, and dumped her shoes into the cockpit.  She liked driving barefoot.  

“Hey, Betts.”

Mildly surprised, she looked up from her craft, watching Jughead approach from the doors.  “Yes?”

“Where are you going?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Reconnaissance. You and FP may not be big on homework and preparation, but I am. I like to scope out the site. Plus, there will be actors there. I’m a little curious.”

“So you’re going by yourself?”

She frowned. “What? Do you think I can’t handle it?”

He tilted his gaze. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just… do you want some company?”

Betty thought this an interesting development. She let her eyes scan his figure, up and down. Not that he was an embarrassment to be around with. She found him incredibly handsome and distracting, but she wondered if this was just him getting cabin fever or this was him finally noticing her.

She was well-aware she could just come out and make the first move. There was nothing wrong with that, per se, but she was, first and foremost, polite. She had been invited to this ship and she didn’t want to be the one to initiate a disruption in the dynamics. Getting down with the captain’s son was sure to change things. Even if she wanted it to happen, she wanted that initiative to come from Jughead.

His house, his move.

“I don’t mind company,” she said with a casual tilt of her shoulder. “Just don’t get in my way.”

He chuckled and climbed into his own ship.  “You’re the boss.”

She scoffed, flipping her controls open. “Right. As if.”

“What?”

“Why are you really tagging along? Like, are you bored? Do you not want me to get a head start? Are you afraid I’d screw up?”

“Cooper, what did I even do to deserve that last bit?” He smirked, powering his own spacecraft.

“N-Nothing! I’m just curious. You’ve always let me go off on my own…”

“Yeah, when you want to window shop at the flea markets. But this is work. You don’t ever go out on the field without a partner. Dad and I go out together all the time. It’s for safety, Betts.”

Oh.

She pulled the strap on her seat and secured herself. “Fine.”

“Great. What’s the script?”

“Script?”

“Well, if we’re going to scope out the place, we can’t look suspicious. What’s our script? Our roles? Vacationing couple? Brother and sister? Pimp and whore?”

She shot him a glare. “Maybe vacationing couple.”

He laughed softly under his breath. “Vacationing couple, it is. Let’s go, sweetheart. We don’t want to be late to cast meetups.”

Sweetheart.

This was either the best idea or the worst idea.

888888888888888

Jughead looked at Betty through the Hitchcock’s windshield.  She still refused to look back and he laughed to himself.

He was never going to understand Betty’s moods.  One minute she was sweet and nurturing and another minute she was on his case, irritable and snarky.

Not that understanding her was really all that important.  In spite of Betty’s mommy issues (the girl seemed to have a fear that her mother would catch up on her), he liked her enough that he didn’t complain about having her on the ship.

They needed a mechanic, for one. And she seemed nice enough, unfailingly polite at first, but thankfully less guarded the longer she had been around them. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Personality himself, so he liked how she seemed to have eased in instead of coming like a hurricane.

Her personality did bring a change of pace to the ship, however, which he thought surprisingly welcome. She tended to clean, which was a bonus of sorts--the Joneses tended to be a little more lax on that regard. But mostly he liked the quiet way she asked after all of them, how she tried to make clever contraptions and fix broken things. He liked that she read. Constantly. He liked watching her write in her journals and then put it away when she caught him looking.

He liked her skimpy outfits.

He liked those a lot.  

He liked that she worked on the engine with those overalls that she only really used as pants. She liked that smudge of grease on her chin and the ginormous wrench she lugged around when she was in the engine rooms. He liked watching her work on his spacecraft when it needed an oil change, because he could happily stare at her legs when she was too busy to notice.

She did get cranky. She was human and they were in a cramped spaceship, where they had to turn sideways when they met in its walkways and ramps, where the path to the shower rooms were the perfect set-up for intensely flirtatious racing and close contact.

Even her anger was entertaining.  Until he met Betty, he never knew fighting and calling each other names could be so amusing.  Never mind that he sometimes got a little carried away and ended up irritating himself.

Maybe she wondered occasionally why she never had to deal with awkward encounters in the small hallways when it was FP or Jellybean. Maybe she didn’t wonder. Maybe she knew.

She was driving him crazy.

He would swear she deliberately flashed him her cleavage on a daily basis.

But did he really want to risk screwing the uncomplicated dynamics of their ship up? If he gave into his impulses and fucked Betty on the engine room floor, which he had fantasized about countless times, his father might very well eject him into space.  

For one, space mechanics as good as she was who were willing to get paid a pittance with shitty benefits was rare. And second, FP seemed to have made an agreement with Betty’s mother that FP was to watch out for her like a daughter.

The only person, it seemed, who was more afraid of Alice than Betty was FP.

Ah, well. He was just going to have to jack off in the shower. Again.

He flipped on the radio, grinning as he channeled in on Betty’s frequency.  “So vacationing couple, right?”

“Right.”

“Honeymoon or just a quick getaway?”

She flew her ship close to his so that they could be looking at one another through the clear glass of their cockpits.  “What difference does it make?”

He slanted a grin.  “Huge difference. Honeymooners are more lovey dovey. Quick getaways are more about touring and sightseeing.”

She shot him a scowl before veering her ship away from him.

He laughed, following her.  “I’m serious!”

“Nobody’s going to care!”

“We’re professionals. We have to do everything right. Hey, you’re the one who said you want to do your homework and shit.”

“Fine. Quick getaway. We’re there to observe. So… you know, look at things. We can hold hands, maybe.”

He chuckled. Hold hands, indeed. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

“Okay, then. Anything else you want to talk about before we do this?”

“I really think we should go grocery shopping before we head back to the ship.”

She gave an irritated sigh, but she didn’t disagree. “Tell me that you brought money and don’t expect me to pony up for that.”

Jughead grinned. Maybe he liked to tease her occasionally, too. “Oh, right. Money! Yeah, about that…”

There was an audible crackle in his receiver. A sure sign that she had cut the transmission off.  He laughed.

He was going to enjoy this impromptu mission.

tbc

#campbughead

[prettiestsupersoldier]

Bucky’s Birthday

Can you tell I fucking despise mushrooms? 

Bucky X PoC!Reader 

Series

“You have to be super, unbelievably careful got it?” You said as you grabbed a hair the from around your wrist and proceeded to pull your sons curl up into messy bun before doing the same to your own wild curls.

“Got it!” Dominic was sitting on top of the counter in your kitchen, you standing just to side of him as you both prepped Bucky's birthday breakfast. Dom insistent that he had to help you cook every single part of the meal.

“You have to pour really slowly.” You said as you watched him absentmindedly stirring the pancake batter.

“I know.” He grabbed the little ladle and gently poured in the first of the mix into the pan. The eye was on medium to avoid any of the hot oil splashing back onto his hands.

Like most batches of pancakes the first few didn't turn out nearly as presentable as you and your son would have hoped them to be, but that problem was easily fixed as you both ate the ugly ones. Ugly but delicious nonetheless.

Next was the bacon, you refused out right to fry it off in a pan with your son sitting so close to the stove, so you opted to just throw it in the oven while you worked on making Bucky's omelette. His disgusting mushroom filled omelette, you didn't really care for mushrooms before you were pregnant, but now everything about the little bastards made you feel nauseous. You would power through the sick feeling for Bucky though because you loved him and he deserved to have his favorite breakfast for his birthday.

While you set about cutting the mushrooms Dom had decided he was tired of helping you cook and went in to the living room. You weren't to worried about him wondering off, he couldn't get too far and if anything were to happen you knew Koda would alert you immediately.

So you weren’t worried at all when you heard Dom rummaging around in the living room, opening and closing drawers looking for what you had no idea, but when you heard his soft exclamation of ‘yes’ you were sure he had found it. 

For the next 10 minutes you continued to cook away at Buckys breakfast and Dom and Koda did what ever the hell they had been doing in the living. 

“We're almost done. You wanna go wake him up?” You called out to Dom as you started to plate Bucks food. You didn’t get much of reply back besides the very small grunt as you assumed Dom got up to get him.

  Bucky woke up at the drop of a dime, no matter how tired and sleep deprived he was. So of course he was up when he heard the sound of your room door opening even with as quiet as it was. In the past he would have shot up and confronted the noise, but he was more than convinced that this noise wasn't a threat to him, unless he had fruit snacks. So he laid in bed and waited for the ‘intruder’ to jump on the bed to get his attention. He continued to wait for more then a few minutes, growing slightly inpatient and nervous when the minutes kept ticking on. He shifted over to your side of the bed and cracked his eyes open just a bit to see what was happening and was immediately met with the sight of deep brown eyes staring directly at him.

“I know you're awake! Get up!” Dom said as soon as his eyes met Bucky’s and he finally climbed on the bed to get closer to him.

“I'm not. I'm sleeping see.” Bucky made a show of making his fake snoring as loud and as exaggerated as he could. “If you're asleep you can't talk! Get up!” Bucky continued to be asleep, enjoying his sons reactions maybe a little too much.

“Fine. Keep pretending,” Bucky felt the dip in the bed as his son got down, “there was only 5 pieces of bacon left so I'll eat them!” At that he heard the sound of feet rushing away from your shared room and the door closing behind them.  That's all he needed to hear before he was up and rushing after his son determined to get at least a bite of bacon. Bucky had been just steps behind Dom when he reached out and picked him up effectively cutting of his call to you.

“He’s comi- ahhh let me go!” You could hear them beginnings to make their way down the hall to you and took the opportunity to finish plating Buckys breakfast.

“Put me down!”

“Nope.” Bucky knew he didn’t really want to get down so he kept walking towards the kitchen, occasionally stopping to move his son further up his shoulder or to tickle him.

When Bucky turned the corner into the kitchen he knew he would see you, of course he would he could smell breakfast and hear you singing to yourself, but what he wasn't expecting when he turned the corner to your kitchen was the 7 barley filled, puppy slobber, covered balloons hanging Dom height on the front of the kitchen island or the crudely drawn happy birthday banner that had puppy shaped paw prints on the front, hung just a little higher than the balloons.

He was vaguely aware his birthday was coming, valentine's day had passed and McDonald's had begun the promotions for shamrock shakes, but he was more than a little shocked that it was apparently today. It hadn't been at the forefront of his mind with you just about ready to have the baby and the missions he was forced to take becoming more and more tiresome.

So he stood there looking at the banner and the balloons and the breakfast that sat on the island and just stared. Because never in a million years would he have imagined, especially here recently, that he would have a fiancee and son, a family, who cared about him so much that they would surprise him like this for his birthday. 

He must have been staring for just a bit too long because he could feel two sets of eyes staring him down.

“Do you like it daddy? I made it with Koda.” He felt the way Dom shifted on his shoulders and the gentle way he patiently kicked at his back while he waited for Buckys reply.

Bucky had more than enough birthdays in his long life. Birthdays where he had just enough money to get a small cake to feed his sisters and Steve and ones where he had a cake that could feed all of New York and some, birthdays where he was in unimaginable pain and birthdays where he couldn’t stop laughing. But this was, without a doubt, the best birthday. The only thing that would make the next birthday better was knowing that his little girl would be there next year. 

“Its perfect.” 

#Leeah Writes #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Dominic Barnes #bucky x poc reader #poc reader #woc reader

[thedefinitionofbts]

Where the rain falls

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance, Scifi 

Words: 12.5k

Description:  Growing up in a society where perfection is the norm and there is no room for uncertainty, your view of the world changes when you meet a boy who believes that all the beauty of life can be contained in crystal droplets that fall from the sky.  

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“We are only able to feel alive because one day the sensation we call life will leave us.”

There are moments that define your story beyond your life. Days where it feels like everything you’ve ever experienced could be contained in one single instant. Points in your memory where your heart feels so, so full, like hearing your soulmate murmur those three words for the very first time or that satisfying feeling of closure at the end of time. 

...

The world outside of the glass biosphere that has housed most of the earth’s population for several decades now is full of danger and uncertainty, well, at least according to the unembellished descriptions you’ve heard.

It almost seems like not too long ago, world leaders were still addressing the debilitating effects of climate change and pouring funding into research in order to save the planet from the virus that is the human race, while simultaneously attempting to save said species from its own self-destruction. So it was only a matter of time before the scientist of the world came up with a solution to end this vicious cycle. They called it the biosphere, an artificial self-regenerating system where carbon emissions and other byproducts of energy waste could be recycled and reused in the most efficient way possible.

According to your grandparents, who were amongst the first generation of people to be moved into these ginormous man-made spheres, it's simple a place that provides a clean sustainable life.

According to the government, it’s a high-tech ecological system that has the potential to support and maintain human life even in outer space.

And according to Park Jimin, your best friend who moved to the biosphere from the outside world when he was in middle school, it’s a place void of the natural phenomenon that he loved as a child.

Merely decades ago, people where still concerned over erratically extreme weather and unpredictable natural disasters, but once all of the large cities in the world, along with most of the world’s population, were fully housed in these man-made domes, the unrest and concern died down.  

You, as well as many others of your generation, have spent your entire lives knowing only sunlight that has been refracted by glass and what water from the sky looked like having never reached the ground. As a child, you longed to experience the world outside of the confining glass walls, where anticipation and uncertainty was what laid beyond the horizon and adventures were born from that which was unknown.  But as you got older, you’re innate curiosity melted away as more practical knowledge about life and modern society slowly replaced your wondering of what life outside the one you knew was like.

…

It’s officially the last day of classes and graduation was just around the corner. This summer was one that you had been looking forward to. It was supposed to be the best, the epitome of the transition from youth to adulthood.

College classes would start in the fall, when the leaves of the lush green trees would transform into bright warm hues of reds, oranges, and yellow, as if they were releasing their last burst of beauty before their lives ultimately faded. But before that, you had a whole three months of seemingly endless adventures and long summer nights, spent with your best group of friends before you guys would inevitably have to split up and go down your separate paths. College would mean starting a new life, but although most of your friends had decided to attend different universities, your best friend, Park Jimin, had decided to apply to the same colleges as you had, and with his stellar grades, it wasn’t a surprise that he got into all of them. You, however, didn’t have as many options to choose from, and yet Jimin never fails to surprise you with his (what you deemed to be) childish decisions.

“I can’t believe you’re giving up going to your dream school, and going to the lame university I got into.” You say, as you spot a loose piece of gravel that happened to be lying on the sidewalk all-perfect and just asking to be casually kicked like a soccer ball. There were sounds of high schoolers playing football in the field, and others doing skateboard tricks near the basketball courts in the background. Their laughter spoke volumes of homework free liberation and uncontained excitement for the upcoming summer. The last class of high school had just officially ended, and it sort of felt surreal, like that mixture of relief, disbelief, and that ever so slight hint of sadness for a phase of your life that was coming to an end.

“Hey, I’m not doing it for you. They have a good engineering program.” Jimin defends, but it was so obvious of a stretch that you were rolling your eyes.

The feeling of change was in the air, and even though everything around you was preparing for a metamorphosis of sorts, one constant seemed to have been left untouched. Your best friend, Park Jimin, was still walking you home, the same as he always did every day since he met you freshman year; back when you were still young, naïve, and just fifteen years old.

“You’re grades place you in the top 1% in the nation, I can’t even…” You shake your head, knowing that he’s not going to change his mind no matter how convincing you attempt to make your argument.

“Don’t act like you’re not secretly happy on the inside” Jimin jokes, looking at you with that signature half crescent eye smile that seems to make all those high school girls swoon. You’ve seen it enough to become immune, but you still can’t help but smile back at his cuteness.

 Opening the door to your apartment on the 15th floor of an old condo that was probably going to be torn down soon, you walk in to the smell of seared steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. Your mom was home early today, that was a first, and she’s making a gourmet meal, unbelievable. It was probably to celebrate your high school graduation. She’s normally busy at her office; working in the fashion industry is hard work, not to mention the added stress of being a single parent to a teenager who may or may not cause trouble from time to time. But hey, at least you were well behaved and not the rebellious type, right?

“Mom, I’m home,” You shout as you close the door. The delicious aroma was making your mouth water, so you quickly take off your shoes, throw your backpack on the couch, wash your hands, and seat yourself at the dinner table. 

Your mom smiles, and kisses your cheek as she sets the plate full of food in front of you. “How was your day, dear?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Oh, same old. Same old.” She sighs but continues to smile as she seats herself across from you. “Congratulations, you’re officially a high school graduate.” She lifts her wine glass to give a toast. You lift up your juice glass in unison.

The two of you begin eating. You were starving like always and the food tasted great, but it was not long before your mom breaks the silence.

“Oh honey, you’re dad called earlier. He wants you to spend this summer at his place.” It comes out nonchalant, like the way you saw her speak to her clients, but there’s a sort of tension underneath her words that would otherwise go unnoticed by people who didn’t know her well.

“What?!” You initially thought you were hearing things, but the look on your moms face confirms she was in fact being serious. You hadn’t seen your dad in years, ever since your parents signed the divorce papers and he decided to leave the biosphere and move to the rural mountainous countryside. You had basically cut off all ties, except for the occasional phone call and birthday package in the mail.  And now, of all times, of all freaking summers, he suddenly chooses this one to throw you a curve ball?

“It’s perfect because I’m going on a company trip to the European biosphere for most of the summer, and the movers will be moving everything to our new apartment downtown.” Your mom says casually, putting down her steak knife and taking a sip of red wine, as if all of this was expected and everything was falling in place like it’s supposed to.

“But mom, I would be perfectly fine staying here by myself. I have friends too. Friends that I might not see when I go off to college.” You try to keep your voice steady, but the last sentence sounded borderline hysteric. The last day of classes had already stirred up conflicting emotions, and you were not prepared to deal with news as ground shaking as this.

“Y/N. Your father probably misses you.” You mom says, making direct eye contact with you for the first time tonight.

And you were well aware of that look, that look in her eyes that no matter what you said afterwards, no matter what you did to protest, would not change her mind. 

…

 There was only a week left before you were off to be condemned into solidary confinement in a place that’s probably going to seem like a less developed alternate universe. Even the excitement of graduation wasn’t the main thing on your mind when you had to get a physical exam to make sure your body could handle the new environment you will soon be placed in. Your primary physician had given you medications to take in the next few days before stepping out of the biosphere and some emergency pills in case of an allergic reaction to some foreign substance in the wild. It all sounded crazy and almost terrifying, but you had to pretend you were brave.

Graduation events gave you just enough time to spend with a few days saying goodbye and having farewell meals with your group of high school friends.

“I know you guys are probably really sad that I won’t be lighting up your summers” You joke, trying to hide any sigh of disappointment in your voice.

“Actually, it’s just Jimin, hahaha” Seokjin laughs obnoxiously. “He was the only one really looking forward to this summer, even though he’s going to college with you anyways.”

“Ya! No need to say it like that,” Jimin shouts, while playfully swatting Seokjin’s shoulder. “I’m just worried you won’t be able to handle the wild.”

“From what we’ve learned about in class, I’m sure I’ll manage,” You think about the old survival shows you’ve seen online, videos of people’s sorry attempts at entertainment. Places from pictures in your geography textbook also flash through your mind, and you had remembered thinking it honestly didn’t look that bad.

“I predict you coming back with a bunch of battle scars from wrestling grizzly bears and lone wolves.” Seokjin says.

“You guys clearly live in a bubble. Literally.” Jimin says while rolling his eyes. He’s the only person you know who has actually lived outside the biosphere. Having moved to the metropolis during middle school, Jimin was one of the many outsiders who gained the eligibility to join the elite. According to him, you just have to show you’re capable of contributing and advancing society. Made sense, since his dad is an accomplished aerospace engineer.

“Jokes aside, it sure is going to be different without you” Namjoon says with a sigh. “But it’s good that you’ll be spending quality time with your dad.”

“Please” You huff a half-hearted laugh. “He’s probably going to make me think about the meaning of life and shit, and talk about how life in the mountains really changes your perspective of the world.”

“Like convincing you to major in philosophy or something in college?” Jimin adds, trying to sound playful, but the look in his eyes was kind of empty, lacking his usual twinkle.  

“Whatever, I’m just going to get through this, and look forward to starting school in the fall.”

“Wow, looking forward to starting school. That’s a first.” Namjoon says. He of all people knew exactly how much you hated school. Well, it wasn’t pure hate, but definitely not at the top of your, “things I want to do” list. He was always the one who helped you out with your math homework, whenever Jimin was busy at least, and quite familiar with your so-called struggles and procrastinating habits. 

It was true though. This summer was going to long and most likely uneventful. There was a reason your dad moved to a rural area, he wanted to take some time away from the bustling world.

Maybe five years ago, you would’ve looked forward to explore the outside world, to see what was really out there, outside everything you ever knew. At a time when a revisit to earth’s past, a summer in the countryside sounded like an exhilarating adventure, where you could view things as strange as landscapes that didn’t end until the horizon or to breathe air that was raw and unfiltered and everything that it was meant to be. But that was when you were a different person, before you grew up and had to place your mind on the more practical things of futuristic human society.

Things at the top of your list of concerns for this summer was going to include surviving over five minutes without your phone and not dying from a bug bite.

 …

  After the official walk at graduation, Namjoon being the class valedictorian gave a memorable and touching speech as expected. It was well worded, moving, and inspiring, reflecting every bit of his intelligence and charm that every student in your class was already familiar with. When all the mandantory events at school were over, Seokjin had invited you and the rest of your crew to his extravagant mansion for what he deemed an “after party” of sorts. Seokjin’s mom had made enough food to feed an army, and the entire living room was filled with balloons and yearbook photos.

They were mostly of your group of friends. There was one of Yoongi performing a piano piece at the school talent show last year, and another of Hoseok performing a dance that he had personally choreographed for months prior. Then there was you and Jimin giving a presentation in history class and eating lunch under a giant oak tree next to the soccer field. But the one that really caught your eye, the one that made your smile falter for a fraction of a second, was a picture taken when everyone had gone out to get pizza at the end of school last year to celebrate the start of winter break.

What caught your eye wasn’t the fact that everyone was making silly faces at the camera and goofing around with holiday decorations, but the fact that Jimin gaze was pointed off to the side. His eyes were warm and full of affection, staring at something too his left side, off camera. You clearly remember not being in that picture because you were too busy playing with the restaurant owner’s dog near the Christmas tree. A decoration that just so happens was placed on the left side of the restaurant.

“Y/N?”

You turn around to see Jimin walking towards you. His bangs were parted today, and it was clear that he was wearing a suit under his graduation gown from the way his dress shoes peaked out at the bottom and the tip of his bowtie poking through the neck opening.

“Needed some fresh air?” You ask, wondering why he had come out to the balcony when everyone else was chatting away and having a good time back in the living room.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you” He replies, while walking up next to you and leaning over the edge of the railing. He looks at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers and gazing out at dimly lit garden below. It was dark and Jimin’s face was only visible from the glow of the light shinning through the large glass windows of Seokjin’s mansion, but you could still see his defining features, partly because of the light and partly because you had come to know them so well.  

“If it’s about being prepared for the wild, I-”

“It’s not about that” Jimin cuts you off. He turns and faces you, looking straight into your eyes. You had never seen him this serious, except maybe when he was trying to get you to stop procrastinating on writing that final essay for literature class. As much as you want to believe that you aren’t completely sure of what he wants to say, deep down you know. It’s a moment that makes your heart feel like it’s trying to jump out of your throat.

“Y/N, I-”

“Do you have to tell me now?” You hold your breath, hoping he gets the hint that you’re not ready for what he wants to convey next. As much as it pains you to see the disappointment on his face and the dejection that glosses over his eyes, you’re friendship with him is the most important thing you have right now, and you didn’t want any complications to jeopardize something so precarious.

He bites his lower lip, hesitating before sighing and looking away again.

You laugh nervously. “Jimin, you’re acting like you’ll never see me again. We’re going to the same university in the fall remember?” You pray that he can’t hear the awkwardness in your normally carefree voice, but he can.

“I know you’re not exactly excited, but I have a feeling you’ll like the outside world” Jimin says while smiling and changing the topic. It's a smile that you’ve seen countless times, but his eyes don’t turn into full crescents.

This is what he was always good at doing. Completely changing the mood, hiding whatever he was feeling on the inside to create a comfortable atmosphere for others. The way he would smile as if he was ok, as if there was nothing bothering him, it always hurt a hundred times more.

“There are a few things I’m looking forward to.” You pause. “Like sunburns and getting soaked in rainwater.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to be sarcastic, or if that was really all you could think of saying in the spur of the moment, trying to tip toes around the awkward tension.  

Jimin chuckles, this time genuinely by the sound of the lighthearted rumble that escapes his throat. “That’s definitely what I remember loving as a child” He jokes.

You playfully punch his shoulder.  

When the laughter dies down, you feel a familiar melancholic throb in your chest, something that has been steadily growing stronger in the space between the two of you for the past few months.

You wonder if Jimin feels it too.

…

 There is a circuit of high-speed trains that connect all the biospheres on the mainland. They are contained in glass tubes that create a vacuum to maximize efficiency by eliminating air resistance, all pretty standard in the view of modern technology. Your dad would be waiting at the station to pick you up, since the railway circuit doesn’t go up into the mountains.

The train glides through the tube-like apparatus; its magnetic wheels lifting it slightly off the rails, making the ride smoother than physically possible with previous “outdated” technology. The scenery outside zooms by too quickly for you to enjoy or contemplate what exactly existed on the other side. Something you would have all summer to do anyways.

Seeing you’re dad for the first time in three years wasn’t as weird as you had originally prepared for. He’s barely changed, still sporting that plaid button up shirt and round glasses. He even kept the same SUV. Something about four-wheel drive being able to handle the steep road even in the snowy winter.

Snow.

Your teachers had described it as cold but pretty to look at. There was artificial snow at the amusement parks you had visited as a child, but you had heard it wasn’t special. Well, at least not in the way real snow was. Real snow was fluffy white particles that drifted in the sky, and although seemingly infinite, you had learned that each and every snowflake still manages to be unique.

“So how have you been?” You hear the question leave your dad’s lips as his eyes are still focused on the winding road up ahead.

“Good.” You reply. You don’t add anything to your statement. Partly because you didn’t see the need in going into detail about a life your dad intentionally chose not to be a part of. You continue to look out the window,

“That’s good.” Silence follows.

“You left us just to come here?” You say as you realize there was absolutely nothing but trees.

“It’ll take time to get used to, but I think you’ll learn like it.”

“Yeah…sure” You lean your head against the glass window of the car, already bored without your laptop and the Internet to entertain you.

Your dad speaks again after noticing you had fallen silent. “It is not something I can force you to understand. It’s something you have to discover for yourself.” You can almost see the smile forming on his face through your peripheral vision, and because you don’t want to disappoint him, you make a grunting noise that conveys agreement.

The land somehow catches your attention as you travel higher into the mountains where a clearing in the forestry reveals a different scene. You look out at the dense forest covered hills in the distance, forming jagged shapes and messy lines that stray from the calculated and controlled ones you were so used to seeing. There’s a river cutting in between the valley below, and although you’ve seen the artificial streams in the city, there’s something about the naturalness straying away from perfection that’s intriguing and captivating even upon first glance.

The clouds in the sky are painted with subtle hues of the setting sun, transitioning from warm toned yellows to pink and finally blue. You could see the sky from the biosphere, but buildings usually always got in the way of fully realizing its uninhibited vastness.

A quaint little cottage soon comes into view. It’s two-stories tall, constructed fully with logs excluding the large glass windows facing a clearing that allows for a full view of the valley below.

“We’re here” You hear your dad say as he turns of the engine.

Stepping out of the car, you initially hold your breath, overcome by the irrational fear that unfiltered air was going to kill you. But as you let out your breath and cautiously breath in you notice it’s actually quite nice. The air smells light, musky, with hints of floral mixed with the earthy smell of wood and grass. It’s not of optimal temperature, its warmer sometimes and cooler others, but the inconsistency wasn’t unpleasant in any way.

 …

 The next morning, you wake up in the early hours of dawn, unable to fall back asleep. Sitting up in your bed, you stare out through the large glass windows of your room. The woods are dark, but the faint light filtering between the gaps in the trees is enough to call you outside.

Hopping down the steps of the two-story cottage, you give in to your curiosity by letting your feet take you where they actually want to go. A sense of curiosity that you had lost a long time ago, entangled with a foreign hint of apprehension slowly crawls up your spine. You’re rational mind tells you to turn around and go back, but something deep inside your heart urges you forward.

As you walk towards the woods, you feel the cool morning air sweep across your face. The grass was wet with dew and glistening from the first signs of light at dawn. Anxiously inch closer and closer to the path that leads deep into a place you would normally stray away from. It feels like the beginning of an unending search for something mysterious.

It’ll get brighter. The sun will light up the darkness. You whisper to yourself in an attempt to calm your fear of the unknown.

The ground is damp and the multitude of plant species is densely packed, except the occasional clearing that opens up to multiple forks in the road or just a large rounded space with no end or beginning.

Walking in a maze was not a good idea, especially not alone. It’s just begging to get lost, and you were the idiot to get down on both knees to do it. You wander for about three hours, and each time you look down at the bright screen of your phone that icon of  “No signal” is the only annoying thing that you’re greeted with.

Great. Having completely forgotten that modern technology wasn’t going to be able to help you out here no matter how high you stretched your arms, you huff a sigh of defeat and toss your phone off to the side.

Too tired to worry any longer, your sleep deprived self eventually dose off when the weighted sleepiness paired with the fatigue of walking drags your eyelids closed.

When you wake up and dreamily open and close your eyes in an attempt to blink away the blur of sleepiness, you notice that someone or something has placed a blanket over you. An initial wave of panic hits you after you’re mind has fully awaken from sleep.

 Shit. Where am I?  

Your eyeballs dart around to see if anything is around. But the note next to the a packed lunch and a bottle of water delicately placed on your left side, prevents you from having an anxiety attack and going full on defense mode. Ok, so whatever left this was most likely a human.

You casually unfold the piece of paper.

 If you’re afraid I poisoned this, you don’t have to eat it -JK

A human who apparently likes to be funny… a small laugh subconsciously escapes your mouth. Momentarily unsure of what to do, you look around and notice another note hanging from a tree branch above you.

If you keep walking and turn right at the clearing, you’ll be back on the main road -JK

Despite the doubt crossing your mind at the instructions left by a complete stranger, you really have no other choice than to trust this person. Luckily, he or she doesn’t seem to have ulterior motives, and it wasn’t long before you finally make your way back to the cottage. It was so easy that you couldn’t believe you weren’t able to find your way before.

Having lost track of time, you just notice the sun is gradually sliding behind the mountains. Thank goodness for whoever left the note because you would’ve been stranded in the dark woods otherwise. You breathe a long sigh of relief.

Standing on the porch on the verge of walking in, you turn and glance at the forest one last time. This is turning out to be more interesting than you had hoped.

Determined to meet this mysterious person, you vow to go back the next day.

 …

 The sky was darker than it was yesterday. Cloudy. Ominous. Almost a warning for you to stay inside today, but something about the layers of various shades of gray layered across the troposphere and the foggy air that wraps around the valley, swerving between old trees that have witnessed centuries of everlasting stories like sleeping dragons provokes you to do things you normally wouldn’t even consider doing.

The very first time you witness rain is magical. That moment when you feel a few drops of cool liquid make contact with your skin, sends shivers of adrenaline down your back, is one that you will never forget. Looking up at the blanket of stratus clouds rippling with motion from the wind that sweeps them across the earth, you pause to admire its hypnotic lull. The rain clouds are light gray, not the stormy kind that covers everything in darkness, but the kind that allows for enough light passing through to bring the world alive.

The pouring begins slowly, and you’re already soaking wet before you can even think of going back. You hastily begin searching for some kind of shelter, but end up clumsily slipping and falling into the mud. It’s squishy and unpleasant, but the next scene in your life happens in slow motion.  

Turning to try and pull your foot out, you realize it’s stuck, but then the raindrops on your neck stop, and you know it's not because it stopped raining because someone is standing beside you holding an umbrella over your head. That’s when you lift your gaze. Today you experienced rain for the first time. You also experienced something else for the first time.

Looking up you are met with a pair of clear doe eyes that seem to contain all the wonders of the universe, complimenting features so mesmerizing your mouth is left slightly agape.

This is the first time you associate a person with rain.

“It’s you again,” He says with a clear but slightly husky voice.

“You’ve seen me before?” His strange comment makes you temporarily forget about the fluttering in your chest.

He nods shyly. “I’m Jungkook”

JK

The familiar letters on the notes just a day ago flashes in your mind.

“I don’t want to sound like a creepy stalker, but in my defense, you’re one of the only people I’ve seen around here.” The wrinkles around his eyes soften his features as he smiles.

“I’m…ugh…. a visitor.”

“Yeah, I figured you weren’t from around here.” He scratches the back of his head.

You walk with this Jungkook person under his clear umbrella until the rain has calmed to a misty drizzle and the sun is on the verge of peaking through the clouds. Maybe you’ll see a so-called rainbow today, but your mind doesn’t linger on that thought for long because besides the portion of time you’re just staring at the ground trying to organize questions in your head, the other half of the time you’re subtly steeling glances at the boy strolling next to you.

“So you live up here?”

“Yup, well in the town down the road. You’re from the biosphere East of here right?”

You nod. “I can’t imagine having to live up here. I mean, it’s really pretty and all, but a lot of people in the city will immediately notice the untapped potential, like the amount of natural resources that could be used for development.” You laugh nervously.

He stops walking, and you wonder if what you said rubbed him the wrong way. You had intended for it to be a compliment of sorts, but you were never good with first time interactions. Blame the awkward introverted personality.

“You city people are too calculating. Overly concerned with perfection and how to make things better more efficient or useful for materialistic goals.” He takes a deep breath and sighs. “When you strip all of that away, what are you left with?” He looks at you, not threateningly so, but leaning more towards genuine concern and perhaps disappointment. “But what do I know right? I’m just a boy from the countryside, diagnosed with a terminal illness.” He shrugs, almost like he was unaware of the weight of his words that suddenly hits you.

“Terminal illness? I thought those where eradicated.”

He chuckles a little. “For the record, people outside the biospheres are not  designer babies, and Mother Nature does tend to mess up here and there. ”

You were perfectly aware of the government’s initiative to control human evolution, because although the new way of life in the biospheres was indefinitely sustainable, the overall amount of natural resources was still limited. It was only a matter of time before overpopulation had become the center of attention, hence came the ever growing use and reliance on genetic engineering and designer babies (human embryos that have been genetically modified to ensure they possess the best hereditary traits of their parents). The leaders of the new world made it perfectly clear that finely tuned high-tech ecosystem where no place for the diseased and handicapped, especially since technology was now advanced enough to prevent such “mistakes” to even be conceived. But even so, science was advanced enough to cure just about anything at this point.

So it was safe to say you’re confused at Jungkook’s statement, not the kind that prevents you from comprehending what he’s saying, but the kind where you don’t know what the speaker is implying.  “Isn’t there treatment for that now?” You query, wondering why he’s acting like he doesn’t have a choice but to accept the unfortunate fate that was handed to him. 

“There is”

“I mean, if you’re scared of sterilized hospitals and surgical instruments…” The words just pour out of your mouth, almost like the rain that was falling in sheets earlier.

He smirks. “You clearly haven’t seen actually scary things.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” You tentatively ask, wondering how he can be so nonchalant about his own death. “I know we all eventually die, but you’re still young and…”

He looks off into the distance, and that’s when you realize you’ve reached the edge of a cliff overlooking the valley below and patches of fluffy white marshmallow-like clouds dabbled across the now only mildly gray sky.

“We are only able to feel alive because one day the sensation we call life will leave us.” He picks up an orange tulip from the ground. “The life-span of flowers are ephemeral, but their burst of beauty when they bloom is what defines them, not the length of their life.”

He twirls the flower in his hands before taking a step forward and offering it to you.

“Nothing lasts forever. It’s the impact that’s important.”

You’re pupils move away from staring at the smooth reddish orange petals of the tulip up to his crystal clear eyes that are indescribably tender and compassionate in that time stopping moment.

He turns away and walks to the edge, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Staring at his silhouette, you don’t know it then, but it makes an everlasting imprint in your brain.

“You should probably start heading back now. It gets dark pretty quickly.” He says after a moment of silence.

You nod, realizing you haven’t said anything for a while now.

“Umm, so will you-”

“I’ll be here.” He says before beginning to play with the leaves on a tree branch that has snapped from the storm and is bending low to the ground.

You don’t know why, but his reassuring answer makes you smile.

 …

 There are a lot of things you learn about Jungkook in the next few days after your first face-to-face encounter.

He’s someone who has spent his whole life in the mountainous countryside. Born and raised amongst the pine trees and wild flowers, never been inside a biosphere and thinks he’ll go crazy if he’s ever confined in one of them. He has a brain tumor that doctors have advised to get removed when he’s past the age of 25, or else he could lose his life then.

Oh yeah, and that he loves rain.

“So you just want to live thinking you’ll die at 25?”

“They’ll replace part of my brain with those artificial nanobots. How is that not dying?”

“Well for one, you’ll still be alive.”

“I’m going to be a completely different person.”

For the most part he’s right. It’s like if you replace the engine of a car, although it would look exactly the same on the outside, it’s definitely not going to run the same way, and that’s supposedly a good thing given the old engine was in dire need of replacement to begin with.

“So are you coming up or not?”

You look up to see his hand is still outstretched. He’s already up on the tree in front of you, but you look at him, hesitating long enough for him to tilt his head and gesture with his hand, waiting for a response.

Climbing a tree was not something new, or some extraordinary feet, but no one in the city would do it just for fun. Sitting on a tree branch that could potentially snap at any moment? That’s too risky. Anyone you knew would agree.

“Umm, I think I’m fine down here.”

“For someone not afraid of brain replacing surgeries, you sure hesitate over the weirdest things.” He grins, taunting you with a playful tone.

You bite your lips, competitiveness pushing you forward as you follow in his steps and hoist yourself up on the tree. The bark is rough enough to make you flinch, just imagining how it could potentially scratch your skin, opening it up to bacteria just waiting to cause an infection, but the touch of Jungkook’s hand helping you up is enough make you forget all that your mind makes you believe is dangerous and outside your comfort zone.

Going as high as the tree allows for, you see a lake in the distance. Its enchanting surface is like a mirror reflecting the unhindered rays of sun, and speckled with the colors of reflected light.

“So what do you guys do for fun?” Jungkook asks, when you guys are comfortably settled in a spot that offers a great view of the tree tops spanning the entire forest and the vast land that seemingly stretches for further than the eye can see.  

“In the city?” You look at him. “We’ll most people kill time online, playing games, watching random videos, or just posting on social media, but work and school take up most of the day, so that’s a huge part of our lives.”

Jungkook nods a little. “I guess these kinds of things are the same whether you’re inside a biosphere or not.”

You give him a puzzled look.

He chuckles a little. “Don’t tell me you thought we lived like primitive humans up here.” He shakes his head in disbelief.  “We have Internet, schools, and work buildings too, you know.”

“Oh, I just assumed…” You trail off, realizing you probably sound really ignorant right about now. Of course they would, it’s not like you traveled back in time. You blame Jungkook’s country boy vibes for making you assume civilization outside of the futuristic biospheres was underdeveloped.

The breathtaking sunset you witness with Jungkook later that afternoon puts all those pictures of sunsets you’ve seen in your lifetime to shame, because an authentic work of art, such as itself, doesn’t lie within the confines of a textbook or virtual screen. It’s beauty travels across the atmospheric layers of the earth, sending invigorating shivers down your spine and tugs at the corners of your lips as they stretch into a smile as wide as the distance between your ears.

It’s a light that fades slowly at first, but the darkness soon hovers over the skies like a growing fog.

“We should get back,” Jungkook says as he begins to climb down. You nod, following pursuit, but shaking a little as you look down and are fully aware of how high off the ground you had been this whole time. Jungkook notices your hesitation and helps you down.

You watch as he hops off of the last branch, swiftly and smoothly. He was clearly a veteran at this; his physical adeptness was evidently displayed by his graceful and agile motions.

“So are you coming down, or are you planning on staying up there forever?”

“But I’m going to break my leg if I jump like that” You mentally measure the distance between you and the ground, and bite your lip.

“Just jump, I’ll catch you” He positions himself directly below you and holds out his arms, waiting.

“Says the guy who tried giving me poisoned food” You smirk. You didn’t know how you could still whip out a joke at a time like this, but everything about being out here had been compelling you to do things you normally wouldn’t.

“That was a joke” He sighs and shakes his head.

You don’t know if it’s some sparkle in his eyes or the subtle pursing of his lips, but something about Jungkook makes you trust him sooner than you probably should, so you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and take that leap of faith.

The first thing you feel is the millisecond of zero gravity, like being on a wild roller coaster and experiencing that feeling of free fall, but it’s different in that before you know it, you’re in the safety of someone’s arms. His shoulders are broad, and he’s firm but soft enough to act as a buffer. You open your eyes only to be met with his, surrounded by the fading light in the forest it feels like you’re staring at a window open to all the stars in the night sky.

His warmth is that of home and his laughter is that of someone close, but Jungkook isn’t your home or even someone you understood beyond a superficial level. He was the thrill of exploring a new world. He’s the other side of the moon.

And everything about being with Jungkook felt foreign, a new sensation just below your fingertips that you’re almost reluctant give into at first, but when you do, you quickly realize it’s the best thing you could’ve discovered. He is that new drama that you fell in love with by episode one and can’t keep yourself from binge watching until the last episode. He’s that first listen of an amazing song that quickly becomes your new obsession. He’s something that makes everything you thought was important in life seem completely insignificant in comparison.

He’s not perfect. He’s not a genius, and he doesn’t possess superhuman abilities or promise you fairytale endings. But Jungkook is everything you never had and everything you ever wanted all at the same time.

 ...

  You’ve seen videos of waterfalls. The powerful flow of rushing water being pulled by the earth’s gravitational field, but you had never felt the wind rushing past your face and the cooling mist of spring water mixed with the scent of pine saturating your senses. Moss covered rocks and fluffy shrubs frame the edges of the portrait that is one of the most spectacular natural wonders of the world.

“I can tell you’re impressed”

“Wait, what? No I’m not.” You put on a straight face after realizing you had probably been standing there with your mouth gaping open for who knows how long. “There are waterfalls in the city” You say as you picture the man-made, fountain-like, nature copying contraptions that you grew up seeing. You sounded so unconvincing that you didn’t even believe what you were saying yourself.

“But they’re obviously not this cool, right?” He smirks.

And as much as you don’t want to admit he’s right. He is.

He takes off his white t-shirt, and you quickly turn in embarrassment, causing him to laugh. The shirt was so thin that he might as well have been shirtless the whole time, but who are you to complain?

You hear a splash and turn around to see that he’s already jumped into the water.

“Let me guess, you can’t swim.” He says.

“I can!” You quickly retort.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That familiar feeling of hesitation greets you once again, but you take a deep breath and give into impulse.

  The second time you associate Jungkook with rain, you can feel his wet hand intertwined with yours as he leads you up a path to the edge of the mountain. It’s drizzling enough to dampen your hair and clothes, but not enough to blur the scenes that scroll past you. Gray skies, but transparent rays of warm sunlight are able to filter through the cracks in the blanket of clouds. Unobstructed natural lighting forces the forest green color of various species of tree leaves to stand out against the cool toned backdrop.

The sound of his lighthearted laughter paired with the wrinkle of his face trying to contain a smile too big to fit on a smooth canvas, feels like something beyond what this world is even capable of offering. With him, you are standing on the edge of a rocky cliff while the rain is slowly but surely beginning to let up enough for a rainbow to magically appear in the sky.

Meeting Jungkook was like receiving something you didn’t know you longed for, and it was blissful and magnificent, as with everything about the summer that soared by too quickly.

 …

 The light drizzle

 The summer after freshman year of college was one that you hadn’t particularly looked forward to if it wasn’t for a certain boy living up in the mountains.

“So this summer you’re just going back because you want to” was what Jimin had said. It was a question turned statement because Jimin knew you all too well for him to think otherwise.

First year of university is either one of the best or worst times of your life, or so you had heard during orientation. There are the people who fit right in, making friends in all their classes, joining all sorts of clubs and student groups, and finding exactly where they belong, and then there are those like you, introverted and not as crazy about jumping into new things. So you didn’t really make any new friends year one, but luckily, you had Jimin.

The one person who was always there to remind you of upcoming exams and project due dates, bringing you coffee for 8am lecture and late night snacks when you were pulling all-nighters trying to finish that coding homework due the next day.  

“I got an internship this summer.”

“Oh right.” You sigh, of course, Jimin was always the over-achiever type. Figuring out what to major in was hard enough, but he’s already got that down and probably his whole future planned when you’re still sitting here struggling with choosing a major.

“But hey, maybe I’ll pay a visit the summer after we graduate. You know, when we have time to maybe take a year off before entering the work force or going to grad school. I’m assuming you like it so much, you’re planning on going then too, right?” He grins. It was his way of making you feel better. He never liked to reject any offer you threw at him because Jimin was an angel who descended from the heavens. And as much as it sounds like a dream, he was too nice for your own good.

You find your legs once again, carrying you into the forest. As quickly as the city in the biosphere changes, the world outside seems to steadily transform at it’s own pace. The familiar smell of pine needles and wild flowers fills your nostrils, and the scenery of the mountains once again graces your visual field. You navigate up the path that Jungkook had previously guided you along countless times last summer.

“Y/N”

The sound floats across the space that divides two worlds, carried by the cool breeze. You turn with a racing heart to see its source.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t be able to find your way up here” Greeted again by none other than the sparkly doe-eyed boy who loves to tease you.

“Because you didn’t take me up here a hundred times before” You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that forms across your face.

 Normally being out in the wild with seemingly no connection to civilization would have you going crazy, and the you a year ago would not understand why anyone in their right mind would actively choose to spend a summer out here, but there was something out here that was too simple to be significant yet impossible to let go of.

You didn’t purposefully build a grand image of him in your mind, but seeing him in real life still managed to shatter whatever your mind had the ability to conjure up because Jungkook’s presence is like the arrival of spring after a grueling winter, the morning after a night that you feared would never end.

  …

 “A friend of yours is coming two summers from now?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“Yeah, the one I told you about. Jimin.” The name floats in the air after escaping your mouth. For an extra second, neither you nor Jungkook says anything.

“Are you and him…” His voice trails off and he looks down at the ground.

“Oh..no, like I said we’re just really good friends.” You reply, unsure of where Jungkook would get the idea that you and Jimin were anything more than just friends. You hadn’t told him about Jimin having feelings for you or anything, and you had always just talked about him casually, or so you thought.

“He cares about you a lot,” Jungkook says so softly that you probably would’ve missed it if you weren’t waiting for his response.

“Huh? What makes you think that?”

“You said he’s always there when you need him.”

“Oh” You laugh. “That’s what friends are for right? I mean, Jimin and I, we could never ‘date’ ” It even felt awkward hearing you say it yourself. Jimin was without a doubt, one of the most important people in your life, but you had never thought of him in that way.

“How will you know until you try?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Try….” You think about the look in Jimin’s eyes when he sees you laughing, and the way that he always knows what to say to make you feel better. Jimin’s smile that makes his eyes disappear into crescent moons. The falter in his expression when you change the topic whenever you think he’s about to confess something you don’t want to hear because you’re a coward. The pain he hides under the guise of a perfect best friend.

“Y/N, are you ok?” Jungkook tilts his head to meet your eyes.

You nod, but it feels mechanic.  

 …

  Over the past year, you had almost forgotten what it felt like to be immersed in Jungkook’s world. Never have you ever been so incredibly overwhelmed with excitement than when you were with him. Spending time with him was addicting, like a drug you can’t quit or curiosity that won’t go away until you address it. He was like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

The way he viewed the world was incredible, so different from anyone you had ever met in your life. You came to realize that when you were supposed to be submersed in awe of the stunning world outside of man-made biospheres, you mind was instead constantly filled with thoughts of a doe eyed boy with an inherent fervor for the ephemeral and simplistic beauty of life.

“Happiness isn’t about what the world gives you; it’s what you make of it.” He says as he throws a rock towards the surface of the lake. You watch as it skips one, two…seven times before plopping into the water.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re secretly a middle aged man disguised as a teenager.” You say, as you attempt to find a good skipping rock.

“Well, if you consider the fact that my full lifespan is supposed to be 25, I’m technically equivalent to being in my 70s or 80s.”

You frown. “I also don’t understand how you can just talk about death so casually.”

“Given the option, I wouldn’t choose to live forever. Dying is the driving force of our lives. If we lived forever, there would be no motivation to do anything because we could just push it off until tomorrow.” He pauses. “But because our time is limited, we are able to feel that urgency to love, to do what we want now, not later.” He turns to look at you. If sincerity and melancholic acceptance could manifest into a tangible expression, then it would be the look on Jungkook’s face at that moment.

The image of him standing there next to the lake, seemingly small compared to the mountainous background, alone with the conclusions of his endless contemplation about life and where a mistake like him fits in, tugs at your heart. It clenches it in a way that makes you want to pull him into a hug because Jungkook was a young boy, a little kid who was given only 25 years to be whole.

“Still, it’s so sad…” You reply, still looking into his eyes but unable to move closer.

“Like I always say, life, no matter how fleeting, has the potential to make a large impact.” His lips curve up slightly in a reassuring smile. You take one step forward, but it’s clumsy and just looks like you tripped on your own feet.

He notices and immediately prepares to rush over and keep you from falling on your face, but you regain your balance and gesture to him that you’re ok. Still, he’s made his way to your side, close enough for you to touch him if you just reach out your hand.

“When I was little, my mom always took me walking in the rain. She told me that rain washes away your worries and jumbled thoughts and brings peace to you soul.” His attention is drifting off into the distance again. “She told me it would take away my pain, and she was right.” You watch the rise and fall of his chest as he sighs.

Tentatively you raise a shaky hand to caress his cheek.

“Rain is bittersweet. It’s not purely cheerful and lovely for everyone. Some find it gloomy and depressing and they can’t wait until the sun breaks through the clouds again, but the most distinct characteristic of rain is that it’s the same wherever you are, and that’s how it has the ability to bring you solace and stability. ” He places his hand over yours and looks down at you. “Like fixed points in time that you know you can always revisit, so you can be comforted when you miss things that have long gone.”

“Like a song that reminds you of someone special?” You whisper.

He nods. “Because rain carries memories in addition to new beginnings.”

“Memories?”

“Yeah, it brings back emotions associated with whatever you grant it permission to take. That’s why it’s so great when significant moments in your life happen in the rain, because the emotions associated with it are forever saved there.”

He tilts his head and gazes up at the sky.

“In my next life, I want to be the rain.”

  …

 Moderate showers

 Jimin was someone you could share your emotions with. There was always an unspoken understanding between the two of you, ever since he befriended you back in high school. Being the introverted one, he was the one who approached you first and initiated a conversation that eventually lead to finishing late night homework at his house and lazy Sunday afternoons at the park.

You had always told Jimin that going to your dad’s place in the summer was a way to escape from college and city life, but that was an excuse he had stopped buying.

“Tell me the real reason,” He had said, looking you straight in the eyes, and you can’t deny how charming he is. He was always cute, but now there was an air of manliness surrounding him.

“Ok, so I met a really good friend there.” You admit for the first time. Surprisingly, you had never told Jimin about Jungkook, and you weren’t really sure why. Like you had a bit of an idea, but you chose not to think about that reason.

“Thought so” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. It’s not threatening because there’s a hint of a grin on his face, but you know Jimin is sometimes like an iceberg, hiding his true feelings underneath whatever was visible on the surface.

“Jimin, just say it” You shoot him a serious look, directly into his eyes. You were tired of avoiding the big question. It was now or never.

“Say what?”

“How you really feel about it, about us?”

“What? We’re just friends. What do you want me to say?” He avoids eye contact.

“I hate it when you pretend like nothing’s bothering you when I know something is.”

“You want to know what’s bothering me? You really want to know?” This was the first time you could hear raw strain and frustration in Jimin’s voice. He runs his hand through his hair and wets his lips with his tongue. “Well, I’m not going to say it.”

“Jimin!” It comes out almost as a scream, and you don’t know why you’re getting angry. If anything, Jimin should be the one who’s furiously annoyed.

“You know.” He pauses and looks at you. “I don’t have to say it. You’ve always known.”

You groan. “Why can’t this be easier?” You cover your face with your hands.

“I’m not going to say it, because I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Because that’s more important to me, it always has been.” His voice is softer now, and there’s no other emotion besides pure sincerity and something that’s unique to a boy named Park Jimin. And that something makes your eyes well up with tears that you have to use every last bit of your strength and dignity to try and keep from falling.

“Jimin” A whisper of the only response you could muster.

He walks over and pulls you into his arms, and that’s when the tears start streaming down your cheeks.

 …

 “I’ve learned to always be prepared for the worst. It’s the secret to avoiding disappointment.” Jungkook smirks. “Secret to life number 1.” He’s taking you to the beach, because according to him, going through life without ever having seen the ocean should be considered a crime.

“What’s number 2?”

“Find something to keep you grounded in times when your emotions are overwhelming.”

“What’s that?”

“For me, rain.” He shrugs and you roll your eyes at his obvious answer.

According to Jungkook, there are three main type of rain, as he liked to categorize them:

1.)  The Light Drizzle

2.)  Moderate showers

3.)  Thunderstorms

He’s saying all this as he’s driving you away from the mountains for the first time with you in the passenger seat of his pick-up truck. The body of water that moves closer and closer and takes up more and more space in your visual field is unforgettably majestic. Liquid water is one of the things that makes the earth strikingly unique from all other planets in the solar system, and it’s not until today that such a distant fact hits you tangibly. A planet that’s 71% water, and all your life, you’ve probably only seen less than 0.01% of it because 96.5% of it is contained in the grand formation that is the ocean.

“Guess which one is my favorite”

“Thunderstorms?”

He shakes his head.

“The light drizzle”

“Nope.”

“Ok, so it’s the moderate shower.”

 He laughs. “Wrong again”

“What? That’s the only other option” You look at him dumbfounded.

“I never told you, but there’s actually a fourth category.”

You raise your eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

“Love rain”

Now things are starting to sound cheesy, and you’re sure Jungkook is just going to turn this into some sort of childish joke, so you laugh. You don’t notice him giving you a strange look until you stop and clear your throat.

“Oh, that wasn’t a joke?”

Jungkook chuckles a little before turning to face the water that stretches out towards the horizon. “Yeah, I called it that because I couldn’t think of anything better, and to be honest I’ve only experienced it a couple of times.”

“So what exactly is it?”

“Love rain is when it’s raining, and you’re with someone you love. It’s when it’s raining and you’re with the only other person you want to be with at that moment.”

Something about the endearing look on his face against the dreamy backdrop of the ocean makes you feel like you’re a female lead in a movie with an impossibly happy ending because Jungkook’s voice is like a love song and his hair ruffling in the salty breeze is a home away from home.

“And where it rains, that’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.”

 …

 Jimin is a gentleman. He dressed up nicely just to meet your dad, and was every bit as polite during dinner as you could imagine. You’re dad takes a liking to Jimin, but who wouldn’t? He’s caring, kind, smart, and friendly. The sort of perfect boyfriend anyone could introduce to their parents.

But Jimin wasn’t here to meet your dad; he was here to make a new friend. Jungkook was going in for surgery in two days, and what better than for someone like Jimin, who has gone through the shock of entering a biosphere for the first time, to reassure Jungkook that it’s not so scary?

“Jungkook, Jimin. Jimin, Jungkook.” Textbook introduction, but you weren’t creative or skilled enough to act as a smooth-talking wingman.

Jungkook and Jimin get along right off the bat. Jimin, having spent part of his life in the outside world, was able to connect with Jungkook in a way that you couldn’t. And no, it doesn’t make you jealous. 

“Ah, I remember these. They were my favorite.” Jimin exclaims as he takes the berry that Jungkook had handpicked from a bush and pops it into his mouth.

“Was it hard to adjust?” Jungkook asks Jimin about his experience moving and most likely feeling nervous to receive his surgery in a city inside an artificial environment.

“In the beginning, yeah” Jimin answers as he twirls a piece of grass with his finger. The three of you were sitting in a wide field full of yellow wild flowers between two giant mountain ranges. “It was like embarking on a spaceship and landing in a pocket-sized universe that pretends to be everything it's not.”

“I can’t tell if that sounds good or bad,” Jungkook replies.

Jimin laughs, covering his mouth. “To be honest, I can’t either. But rest assured, it doesn’t send you into a state of shock or cause you to go insane.”

The three of you converse for the entire afternoon until the sky changes colors several times and numerous birds have flown over your heads, forgetting about your differences like people who have been friends for years. At one point, Jimin makes you laugh with a funny inside joke, and Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite make it to his eyes.

“Jungkook, can we go to the cliff?” You suggest, realizing Jimin hasn’t been to your favorite place yet.

“I’m kind of tired, you two go ahead.” Jimin says as he stands up, stretches and prepares to head back to the cottage.

You attempt to convince him to stay, but he quietly reminds you that it’s Jungkook’s second to last day before he goes in for surgery. You nod, understanding what he means.

 “I hope you can love this place enough to come back without me,” Jungkook says as he spreads out his arms and welcomes the cool breeze that sweeps by. 

“Why do you sound like you’re never coming back?” You walk up next to him, and look over the edge. It’s steep and daunting, but exhilarating all at once. “Jungkook, the surgery is going to save you and you’ll live for a very long time. You’ll come back and you’ll finally be cured.”

Jungkook sighs and looks at the ground blankly. It feels like an eternity passes before he says the next thing.

“They say I’ll lose all of my memories.”

It’s takes a moment to register, but once you do, you can feel the air in your lungs being sucked out of you, like someone threw a punch right at your gut and now your heaving and desperately gasping for oxygen that’s not there.

“That-that’s ok, as long as you’re-“

“Y/N” Jungkook cuts you off plainly. There’s no irritation or annoyance in his hollow voice. “For the 25 years I’ve been alive, I’ve never had anything I was afraid of losing…until I met you.”

“Jungkook” You’re voice is a whisper that’s barely audible. You’re hands are shaking, and you can’t seem to process what he’s saying because you’re using every last ounce of strength to not break down right then and there.  

“I don’t want to risk that”

“But the rain will help you remember”

He laughs. It almost sounds hysterical, and you know he’s hurt and confused and scared, and it might even be the effects from the tumor growing in his brain, but not matter how desperate you felt, there was just no way you could do anything to calm him at that moment. “I’m just now realizing how stupid that sounds.” He shakes his head.

“I’m not going to stand by your side and watch you opt out of this procedure.”

“What? You’re going to run back to Jimin? Is that it?”

Oh now you were feeling the anger start to bubble. How dare he drag Jimin into this? Does he not know how difficult it was to straighten out your feelings? To hurt the one person on this planet that you never in a million years would want to even scratch the surface of his skin?

“So what if I do?” You don’t know why that response shoots out of your mouth, and regret immediately washes over you, but there’s no way you could rewind and take that back.

You can see his body tense at your last statement.

“Jungkook, I didn’t-”

“You should head back, it’s getting late” He stands up and before you know it, he’s gone.

He was leaving tomorrow, and this is how you chose to mess up everything. But maybe it was for the better. This way he can go into the surgery without any burdens. You keep telling yourself things to make you feel better. Like not knowing the answer on a multiple choice test, but nevertheless convincing yourself the answer you blindly chose by process of elimination has to be the correct one.

 But it never is, is it?

 …

 The Thunderstorm

 The rain is starting to pour harder.

“Are you sure your not going?” Jimin whispers, looking directly into your eyes and even through the tears that are beginning to blur your vision, you can see the sincerity and pain in his eyes.

You bite your lips, and nod. Knowing that this decision may have you imprisoned in regret for the rest of your life. But of all the things in the world that would stop Jungkook from living the length of time he deserves, it wasn’t going to be you. Because you had convinced yourself in one sleepless night that no matter the cost, you would do whatever was in your power to get him to go through with the surgery.

Jimin sighs and walks out, towards the forest, down the path that was always filled with the excitement of creating new adventures, new memories that could be added to the rain. But today, the water was relentlessly pounding on the large glass windows of the cottage, drowning out the heart wrenching cries of your soul. Perhaps this was one of the ways rain offers comfort, because you feel almost numb staring at the water blurring the beautiful scenery you came to know because of one special boy.

 An hour passes. Maybe two or three?

Your mind is blank until a loud clap of thunder snaps you back into reality. No, you can’t not see him one last time. You can’t let the him you knew, die thinking you were angry at him for loving you, that he didn’t change your life in the best way you could have ever hoped for or give you everything you obviously didn’t deserve.

You can’t let him go without telling him that every rainy day you spent with him was love rain.  

You push open the sliding glass doors and run out into the pouring rain. No umbrella, no shoes, not caring.

“Y/N, he left” You see Jimin’s figure walking towards you.

“No…no, no….” You voice comes out hollow, distant, and lacking emotion. Your legs give way as you drop to the ground, sinking pathetically into the squishy mud that would normally make your skin crawl. Jimin holds his umbrella over your head, shielding you from wind that makes the raindrops feel like shards of glass piercing into your skin.  

“What did he say to you?” You look up at Jimin with desperate eyes. “Did he tell you he wished he didn’t have to deal with something so unfair? I can’t believe I’m stupid enough to abandon him when he needed me most. I’m such a fucking idiot. ”

“He never said he wished for those things” Jimin murmurs. He looks down.

“Just tell me. I can handle it.”

Jimin hesitates. Moments pass before you hear him take a deep breath and look up at the sky.

“He told me he could never give you the world you deserve, and the pain from that is more than he’s ever felt.” Jimin says. “He told me to give you what he couldn’t, and to love you with all my heart and if I don’t mind, his as well.”

You slowly shake your head. Squeezing your eyes shut as the tears stream down your face.

“Y/N, he gave me his heart. To give to you,”

You head is shaking vigorously now, and you want this all to be a terrible nightmare because the pain is eating you alive.

“but he doesn’t know that I could never give you what you’re looking for” Jimin’s voice shakes you out of your denial. “He left you this” Jimin holds out a piece of paper that has been folded. Folded the same way you saw the note folded by the packed lunch, and the one that hung from the tree branch four summers ago.

And at that moment, you know what’s written on that piece of paper is going to be the type of heart wrenching sadness that keeps you up at night, the kind that pulls you away from the fatigue of slumber and causes your brain to recall every last detail of a memory until the emotions associated with it are as clear as the day you felt them. So you tuck it away, safely, because it’s the last that remains of something that not only could’ve been beautiful, but actually was.

Jimin understands, and you welcome his familiar embrace because he’s the only one now, who does, and at that moment, it’s all you could really ask for.

 …

  “There’s something about this place that seems magical,” Your dad says as he helps you pack on your last day before you head back to the city. It was the last summer you would visit, and he knew that too.

And for the first time, you understand what he means.

Jimin had left last week, and although you contemplated going back with him, you weren’t ready to leave quite yet. Maybe it was that last sliver of hope that Jungkook might comeback. But it’s ridiculous, and even your hopelessly desperate self thinks so.  

Lying in bed you wake up to the sound of water pellets splashing against your window. You quickly run over and open it, not caring if the water drops carried by the wind will get your carpet wet. The fresh scent hits you almost immediately, and the rush of adrenaline sends goosebumps shooting down your spine. You just stand there, listening to the rhythm of the falling rain as it lulls you into a dreamy state of half consciousness.

And it is that night, in the darkness surrounded by the sound of rain, that you find yourself reaching over to unfold the note that Jungkook left you.

 Y/N,

           I’m sorry for being the way I was that day. I was afraid. You were right, it is scary. It's terrifying to lose yourself, but it’s nothing compared to losing someone else because you lost yourself. Maybe I don’t have the right to say this, but I hope I can stay in your memory as something that can bring you comfort and happiness.

          If you ever need me for any reason, just open your heart and welcome the rain, and I promise it won’t be painful.

                                                              -the JK that will forever be a memory in the rain

 You hold the note as your legs carry you down the steps and out into the rain once again. You’re barefoot and in your pajamas, but no one’s going to see anyways. Feeling the water droplets splash on your face and drip down your neck, you give your memories to the rain, like the way people give their wishes to dazzling comets that soar across the night sky or the fluffy seeds of dandelions that seem to float endlessly.

Jungkook would want you to forever remember him by the things he loved, because it defined who he was, and you refuse to let him be a memory that would bring you anything but the happiness and beauty that he represented so well.

Loving him was like an emotion so inexplicable yet so powerful that it always leaves you glossy eyed and breathless. It was heartache that you would always happily welcome with open arms, because few things in the universe could move you in such a way that made everything else seem insignificant.

You breathe in the unfiltered air of nature.

The gentle wind lifts your hair almost as if to tuck it behind your ear.

Jungkook and rain have finally been intertwined, and the pain is gone.  

 …

 Five years later

 Jimin found his sun in the form of an art student named Kim Taehyung. You thought you knew what Jimin looked like when he was genuinely overjoyed, the kind of untainted happiness that spreads to everyone around him, that is until you saw the way Taehyung made him laugh. It’s laugh that starts as a light rumble in his stomach and moves on to saturate his whole being, reaching his soul and back.

It’s been five years since you last left the biosphere. Graduating from college meant no more summer vacations, and work life was a year round grind. Changes happen so quickly, so relentlessly, but unsurprisingly one thing manages to remain the same.

Rain. It’s unapologetically stubborn because even when it's wrong, rain tells you it’s right. Rain somehow manages to absorbs change and makes it part of itself.

Hiking back up that cliff for the first time in years you’re glad you brought an umbrella today, because you don’t think your aged body can handle being soaked in cold water like it used to when you were slightly younger. The beat of your heart is pounding in sync with the droplets hitting your umbrella, and something in it tells you there’s a place you have to go today.

It’s a message that rain whispers to your heart.

“And where it rains, that’s where I’ll be waiting.” You think it’s just your imagination, that your overthinking things, because you had convinced yourself to move on. And although he’s never left your memories, the pain associated with him had long ago.  

Finally reaching the top, you see a figure standing by the edge. His silhouette making your heart flutter in a way that it hasn’t in several years. A moment passes, several seconds, maybe a few minutes, but you lose track of time. The figure stirs a little, umbrella lifting ever so slightly. The rain has become a steady, calm drizzle. A soft gust of wind sweeps by as the figure turns.

One second. Two seconds.

And in that instant when his head turns and umbrella lifts, you are met with a pair of familiar doe eyes that seem to contain all the wonders in the universe.

...

#btswriters #armiesnet #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts scenarios #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader

[rhina988]

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Chapter 11

Read from the beginning 

Read Chapter 10

Nicole's POV

"All set?" Jared took the luggage and looked at me before he scanned the bedroom for the last time to make sure we had packed everything for our trip to Milan.

"I am. We can finally go," I exhaled in relief, wanting to be as far away from LA. The previous day took its toll on me and I was in desperate need to fly some place peaceful and drama-free.

"OK, the car is outside, ready, with Emma waiting for us to head down to the airport," Jared walked towards the front door and I followed.

We were finally on the plane after a couple of hours of driving, check-ins, and the tedious airport mess everyone needs to go through when they fly abroad.

"Stop fidgeting you're gonna make me nervous," Jared teased me.

"Sorry, but I hate flying. If we could just take off already, so I can fall asleep and not even remember we were up in the air at all," I sighed watching through the window nervously. I always hated flying, and knowing we'll spend more than 12 hours on the plane was completely freaking me out.

"You know, there are plenty of ways to cut time short," Jared smirked at me and grazed my thigh leaning in to kiss my jaw.

"Nice try, but I'm so not in the mood for that right now," I chuckled and took his hand into mine.

"OK, but don't worry. I'm here to protect you all the time," he winked and pulled me closer to him, kissing me on the temple.

"I know. I always feel safe around you," I nestled in Jared's arms so comfortably, I felt like that was truly my safe haven.

The flight was quite long, and with the 9 hour time difference, this trip was gonna be more mind-numbing than I thought. By the time we had arrived, it was already around noon, on Monday. Luckily, the Gucci show was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, which gave Jared and me enough time to rest, and take jet lag under control, to a certain point anyway.

We were in our hotel room and I immediately plopped on the king-size bed, without taking any of my clothes off.

"Oh my God," I huffed completely exhausted, "I'm never leaving this bed in my life."

“That comfortable, huh?” Jared asked as he tipped the boy carrying our luggage.

“A-ma-zing.”

“Ahhhh, you’re right, this feels like heaven,” Jared plopped on the bed next to me, closing his eyes for the moment. We were both lying on our back, breathing slowly and just enjoying some peace and quiet. Jared’s breathing soon started to become really slow, which made me think he was about to fall asleep.

I felt most at ease after a long and relaxing shower, so even though this bed was like the cloud itself, I felt an enormous urge to hit the shower and wash the scent of a plane off me. As I moved an inch, Jared’s hand suddenly grabbed mine.

“Going somewhere?” he opened his right eye, making a funny face.

“I thought I could get a shower,” I sat on the bed and kissed his hand.

He lifted himself just enough to grab me and lay me on top of him, “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my waist, letting them rest on the small of my back.

“I’ll suffocate you if you keep me lying on top of you like this, for too long,” I said biting my lower lip and caressing the edge of his face with the back of my hand, all the way to that gorgeous jawline.

“Of course you won’t silly,” he lifted his head to kiss me softly, “I just want you in my arms for a little while,” he slowly slid his hands down my bum and groped it, leaving me all tingly.

I smirked and kissed him more lustfully as the desire for him rose gradually. Suddenly, showering wasn’t really on top of my mind, given that I could feel Jared’s desire for me also resurfacing. I was wearing my black leggings, and Jared had his favorite sweatpants on, giving us both very little space to wonder how the other one felt. We continued to make out like two teenagers in love, with every kiss being more passionate than the previous. Our tongues danced in the pure passion, completely overwhelming us with feelings. Nevertheless, we just kept still, me on top of Jared, with his hands only fondling and squeezing my bum from one second to the next. I broke the kiss, then kissed Jared’s cheek, and his jawline in the end, looking him deep into his sky blue eyes.

“What?” he asked through a chuckle.

“Nothing, I’m just so happy right now... but I shouldn’t say anything, so I don’t jinx it,” I said and laid my head on Jared’s chest feeling his heart beating fast.

“Don’t tell me you believe in that nonsense,” he laughed and patted my head.

“I do. It happens every time. The minute I feel incredibly happy, something horrible happens and completely shatters me,” I sighed hugging him tight, never leaving this safe nook. What I didn’t want to mention was that I had this uncomfortable feeling in my stomach from the moment we boarded on the plane. My intuition was flawless and I felt something was about to disturb our little paradise, right here on this trip.

My body moved along with Jared’s breathing, as I was still lying on top of him, apparently making him as comfortable as me. “Get those ridiculous thoughts out of that pretty mind, and only think about how we’re gonna have the best time here,” Jared said kissing my head, as he wrapped his arms around my upper body.

We stayed still for a little while like that, before we heard a knock on the door. No way! I knew something was gonna distract us at this heavenly moment. I pretended not to hear a thing, wanting to enjoy this embrace for as long as possible.

“I need to get up now, somebody’s at the door,” Jared said and slightly tickled me.

“No. You’ve put me in this position, and I love it, I’m not moving a muscle,” I said like a little girl pouting.

“I didn’t want to do this, but ...” he didn’t even finish when his fingers went under my t-shirt, and he started tickling me relentlessly.

“No, no, no, no, stoooooop....” I started laughing and rolled off him on the other side of the bed hoping he’ll stop.

“You asked for it,” he rolled after me, and continued to tickle me, as I started squirming and laughing uncontrollably. I was the most ticklish person in the world, and I was afraid the hotel security will come to check if I was feeling alright from all the screaming I did.

“Hahahaha... fine.... fine... sorry,” I tried to catch my breath when a couple of more knocks, this time louder, thumped on the door breaking this little charade.

“Just a second,” Jared yelled and got off the bed to open the door.

He opened a door and a room service was inside within seconds, with a delicious breakfast for two.

“Thank you very much,” Jared said and the guy was out.

“Jared? When did you arrange this, we just arrived?” I was so pleasantly surprised, and famished to be honest. I didn’t feel any hunger until the sweet pancakes, blueberries, scrambled eggs and coffee started to fill the room with it’s intoxicating aroma.

“We haven’t eaten very well lately, so I knew we’d be quite hungry once we arrived. Dig in,” he said and we both sat at the table to enjoy this amazing food.

After this delightful meal, all we were up for was a nice and warm shower before we hit the sack. Jared had a romantic dinner planned for tonight, so catching a few hours of sleep before that was more than appealing. We were deep asleep when a sudden buzz woke me up. It was a 10th message from my mom. I had forgotten to call her yesterday and she had no idea where I was. My phone was on airplane mode the entire flight to Milan, and she must’ve been worried sick not being able to reach me. I quickly took the phone to let her know I’m fine and that I’ll be back to LA in a couple of days. It was best if nobody knew where I was, because I needed to think everything through, and this trip was the perfect opportunity for me to clear my head.

I lied back and saw Jared sleeping like a baby. I just rolled on the side and watched him sleep so peacefully. This was the first time I felt at ease when I woke up next to him. All the previous times I’d panic if I suddenly dozed off, fearing someone would reveal my dark adultery secret. If jumping off the bed and maniacally dressing up was qualified as the sports, I would’ve been the Olympic champion. But now it was different. We were in no hurry. Nobody was there to interrupt this little bliss Jared and I were finally enjoying.

“Mmmmm, hello there beautiful,” Jared murmured after he saw I was already wide awake.

“Hi yourself,” I smiled and lied on my tummy never taking the look away from him, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, I could get used to waking up like this,” he opened his eyes and smiled back at me.

“Me too. This feels so amazing. I literally don’t wanna leave this bed ever again,” I was so happy I almost thought this was too good to be true.

“Well, unfortunately, you’re gonna have to put on that sexy dress of yours and come with me to dinner,” he said through a smile lifting himself of the bed to kiss me.

“Are you sure we should go out in public right away? I mean, I know we were supposed to go to the fashion show tomorrow, but...”

“Stop it. We’re together, and we have nothing to hide. I want you by my side all the time,” he interrupted me, cupped my cheek, and kissed my forehead, “OK?”

“OK,” I whispered and nodded, as Jared took me into his embrace. We appreciated these moments of tenderness for a couple of more minutes, when Jared kissed my head and said it’s better we started getting ready for dinner. You could never go against his will, so I agreed and started doing my make-up. It didn’t take me long to get ready, and Jared neither. We were out of the hotel within an hour, and headed straight to restaurant.

Unbelievably so, once we stepped outside the hotel the paparazzi were already crowding the premises, along with a handful of fans and some stand-byers. I felt like a real star with all the flashes going off all around us, and it wasn’t much comfortable. Our privacy was invaded, which kinda made me anxious. The moment we passed by them, holding hands and getting inside the car a flashes of images went through my mind as reporter kept yelling What happened with the lip, Jared? Who’s the new girl? Reliving the ‘Fight Club’ experience, are you Jared?

I could already see the headlines and pictures, instantly informing everyone back home about Jared’s new date. I wasn’t ready for that much exposure yet, but it was too late for us to do anything about it. Jared was calm, silent, and serious, letting me get inside before him and he followed shutting the door behind him.

The dinner went by great, we talked and smiled, exchanging a few kisses on the way. It really seemed as if we were some random couple. Just a regular Jared and a regular Nicole. Of course, until we got out of the restaurant, when the paparazzi invaded us again. This time we didn’t even hear the questions, we just got inside the car and headed back to the hotel.

“Jesus, they’re relentless!” I exclaimed with frustration.

“Relax. It’s all normal. You’ll get used to it,” Jared rubbed my knee trying to console me.

“I’m not so sure. This is awful,” I huffed and waved my head. “Did they already post something?”

Jared checked the social media only to be flabbergasted by what he saw. I could see his face turning into a flaming shade of red, and I knew whatever he saw couldn’t be good. I just took his phone from him, and almost fainted when I read the announces.

***A homewrecker at his finest - Jared steals the bride and runs away to Italy!

Who is the mystery bride Jared was spotted with? 

Jared tying the knot in Italy!***

“Give me that!” Jared quickly took his phone back, and tossed it on the back seat. I couldn’t speak a word. It was beyond me how quickly he reporters made stories up. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fix this whole mess, I promise.”

“How? You can’t fix this. It’s forever gonna be out there, compromising you. I just made your life so much more complicated,” I buried my face into my hands and started crying.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do that. You’ve brought nothing but joy into my life. This is a part of my life, and I’m used to being bashed on. And for what it’s worth, nobody can see your face in the pictures; you’re still safe.” Jared said and cupped my face giving me a soft kiss.

“They will know tomorrow, or maybe even within minutes. They took our pictures tonight as well,” I said through a sniffle, trying to calm down.

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t get any worse than this, I promise,” Jared kissed my hand, as the car stopped. We were in front of the hotel, and it was again crowded with reporters. This time we ran inside with the speed of light, not giving them the opportunity to do more damage.

Jared’s POV

We were finally back at our hotel room. Alone, together and at peace. All I needed right now after this hellish day.

“I’m gonna go freshen up before bed,” Nicole took off her heels and went to the bathroom, as I took of my leather jacket, tossing it on the bed.

“Sure, I’ll order some drinks,” I thought we could use some relaxation after everything, and I bet Nicole was more than open for a lot of talking.

It wasn’t even 5 minutes after I had ordered a bottle of white wine, that I heard a knock on the door.

“That was fast,” I murmured to myself, as I was walking towards the door rolling up my shirt sleeves. I glanced at the bathroom door and saw them slightly opened, but not enough for anyone to see inside so I just left it.

I opened the door ready to say how amazingly fast the room service was at this hour, when I saw her. Mikaela. A girl I had a casual affair a few months back when I was often in Milan.

“Good evening, Jared,” she said with the cutest Italian accent. She was fluent in English, but she didn’t manage to suppress that Italian heritage from her speech.

“What are you doing here?” I was shocked, looking at her coming inside the room.

“I assumed you’d be here this time of the year and I needed to give you a little surprise,” she was standing in the middle of the room looking around, probably thinking she’d find a girl in here with me, as the two of us shared it quite few times before.

“Now is really not a good time, you need to leave,” I said in panic, praying to God Nicole doesn’t step outside the bathroom. I could hear the water running, so she probably didn’t hear me and Mikaela talking.

“Unfortunately, I’m running out of time,” she said, and faced me, revealing her belly to me. She was pregnant.

“Um... congratulations?” I didn’t know whether that was a statement, or a question, and it sounded just like that.

“I could say the same thing. It’s yours Jared, and I’m keeping it” as the words left her mouth, the room suddenly felt like spinning, my heart fell to my stomach and all I could think about was how this can’t be true. I must’ve been having a really, really bad dream.

Chapter 12 

Feel free to comment and leave feedback.

Let me know if you’d like me to tag you in the next chapters.

Hope you enjoyed it.

You can read the story on Wattpad as well

@wolfgirl1074 @nikkitasevoli @elliegrace139 @iridescxntsolitude @lanfear619 @msroxyblog @sookieblack12

#jared leto #imagine jared leto #jared leto imagine #celebrity fanfiction #fan fiction #fan fic #fiction writing #celebrity imagine #30 Seconds To Mars #love story #thwwiw