#sadly i was not able to get my hands on a longer blue sweater on time but I believe I made mine work good enough ^^ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jkstompers · 3 years

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don’t go | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past.

word count: 3.3K

genre: roommates, established friendship, hidden feelings, angst, slight fluff

warnings: none! :) (except maybe some typos...ignore that...haha...)

author’s note: yes hi hello! i’m so sorry i haven’t posted in so long AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS FIC THE DAY AFTER VALENTINES UGH!! I’M SLACKING, I’M SORRY!! i’ve been writing but i don’t have the motivation to finish and ugh it’s a mess in my brain right now. this fic i was able to finish though! hopefully u enjoy it ♡(ŐωŐ人) please let me know what u think! sorry again for being so inactive T口T.

side note: this is how i imagined jungkook in this fic! his pink sweater and long hair (╯°▽°)╯ ┻━┻ .crying.

also banner picture cred: here <3

“welcome home roomie! how was your month long vacation from me this time?” you greet jungkook when he walks into the kitchen for breakfast. he just came back last night from one of his month long rendezvous that occur way too often in your opinion. jungkook would disappear and reappear every other week or so. he never told you where he went and you never really found yourself dedicated enough to find out.

“fun,” he answers flatly, “and to be specific, it was only two weeks.” he clarifies the time he spent away, sitting down at the island and surveying the food you laid out. you outdid yourself this morning, an array of different breakfast foods. “you made all of this?”

you nod, “they were about to go bad, so you better finish all of it.”

he sends you a half smile, teetering on a smirk as he takes the plate you hand him. “you doing anything today?” he asks. his fork stabs through two pancakes and moves them to his plate, shoveling bacon and eggs onto there as well.

“on this fine sunday? sadly, no, just some homework i need to finish.” you sigh, taking a sip from your glass of water. your seat is to the right of jungkook, at the head of the island. it’s now that you really take your time to look at him. his morning look in all it’s glory. a face swollen and hair messy in the cutest way. it wasn’t fair that he was attractive during times when you’re supposed to look unattractive. his hair has grown a little longer since you last saw him, the ends of his hair touching the apples of his cheeks now. speaking of his cheeks, he stuffs them full of food and chews, his eyes wandering around the apartment until he makes contact with yours. catching you staring.

he swallows, bringing his glass of water to his lips before speaking again, “my face that interesting to you?” the question comes with a piece of pancake on his fork, offering it to you.

like a reflex, you open your mouth to accept the pancake. but you scrunch your nose at the remark he made, “you look different.”

the statement is meant to be innocent, speaking of the way his hair is a little longer and how you notice a new tattoo gracing his arm. but jungkook seems to take it a little deeper, your words ringing in his head. different? does that mean you look at him different? is he prettier now? uglier? what do you mean by that?

“do you want to go grocery shopping later?” he asks. hoping you didn’t notice the long pause he took to overthink.

“sure,” you shrugged. a small bubble of excitement forming in your stomach. “we’re out of ice cream anyway.” you try to carry a nonchalant reaction when nods.

when the two of you finished filling your bellies, jungkook helped you wash the dishes and clean everything up. the feeling of having him around makes you feel at ease. you wish it was like this more often. for the past two years jungkook had been your roommate, he paid his dues, cleaned his messes, and kept you company from time to time. when he wasn’t there (which was ⅔ of the time) it didn’t feel right. it would feel colder in the apartment, even if the heater was turned up. just...empty. sometimes you wished his socks or hoodies were left lying around the apartment for you to pick up and bicker with him about. rather, he cleaned every spot, no laundry to pick up, no spills to wipe, nothing. leaving no signs that he lived here at all.

“nap for a little bit and then we’ll go?” jungkook asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. you nod, telling him to wake you up when it was time to go.

you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. your eyes open to see jungkook in front of you, pink sweater and black hair, contrasting perfectly in the sun that’s shining through your window. “let’s go now,” he says.

you nod, getting up from your bed and stretching as you walk over to your closet, grabbing a sweater to wear. jungkook offers to drive, you sit in the passenger seat, mind focused on what you had to buy for the house. you make it to the store and grab a cart, jungkook following behind you, “do you need anything?” you ask.

“some shampoo and conditioner,” he answers. you nod, moving to the bath section and waiting as jungkook chooses his items. the rest of the trip consists of you and jungkook asking each other if you needed said thing for the apartment. “we have to get more blankets,” he declares as you pass the home goods section, grabbing a fluffy blanket.

you scold him, “we have too many blankets, put it back.” he presses his lips into a tight line, showing his dissatisfaction. you both continue to walk around a little longer, moving to the food section. “see, this is what we need!” you pull out the cookie dough tub.

“dough?” he snorts, taking a look at the bucket as you hold it.

“it’s ready to eat cookie dough! no salmonella for us!” you smile, dropping it into your cart. jungkook doesn’t say anything after that, you knew he wanted the cookie dough too, you were just taking one for the team.

walking a little further into the food section, jungkook taps your shoulder, pointing to the other side of the freezers. “ice cream?”

“oh, yeah,” you nod, pushing the cart that way. you pull the vanilla ice cream out and place it in the cart, jungkook furrows his eyebrows.

“vanilla? out of all the flavors here? really?” he stares at you, a serious look on his face. you can’t help but start laughing, his face breaks, a small smile appearing on his face but he tries to get back to a serious expression.

“it’s good! and you can eat it with the cookie dough,” you reason. jungkook rolls his eyes, you always seem to find a way to stump him, he can never argue with you for too long, you’re just too good of a talker. he takes out a mint chocolate tub from the freezer. you don’t say anything but your face scrunches, visibly disapproving.

“don’t start, i will argue for mint chocolate until the store closes.” he warns. you decide to stay quiet, a smile cemented on your face as you make it to check out. the rest of the trip goes smoothly from there, picking up some food on the way home and then making it back to the apartment.

the two of you decide to do some things on your own when you got home. jungkook had to clean his room and do some laundry while you had to finish your homework. a period of comfortable silence fills the apartment, unlike the cold silence that you were terribly used to. you couldn’t have felt any more content than how you feel now.

a few hours pass before jungkook finishes his chores, you were finished with your work and were now scheduling your next week. he peeks his head into your room, coughing to get your attention. your head turns at the sound, “movie?” he suggests.

you smile, standing from your desk. the two of you travel to the couch and plop down on the seats, your hand reaching out to the coffee table for the remote. “which one?” you ask, turning the tv on and clicking random buttons that bring you to netflix.

“that blue one, with the blonde.” he points as you scroll through the selections.

“mamma mia?” you snort.

“looks interesting,” he shrugs. unfolding the blanket and splaying it over the both of you. the first fifteen minutes of the movie plays before both you and jungkook start getting hungry. a rock, paper, scissors game ensues to figure out who’s gonna get up to get the snacks. you lose, 2 to 1.

you grumble, pulling the warm blanket off of you and moving to the kitchen. taking a bag of chips out, some candy that you had in the pantry, and then the tub of ready to eat cookie dough out of the fridge. the weight of it proving you to be one of the weakest human beings. the tub practically slams onto the counter. the lid once again proving that your strength was not that of thor’s. “jungkook!” you shout from the kitchen.

“what?” he yells back.

you try once more to pry the lid open, but to no avail. so you shout once again, “help me open the cookie dough!”

you hear jungkook groan, but nevertheless he comes into the kitchen, his face silently asking what you need him to do. you show him that the lid is basically stuck and he takes it from you, trying to take the top off but he seems to struggle as well. “here, you hold and i pull,” he suggests, holding onto the lid as you hold onto the bucket part. something told you this wasn’t going to work, maybe you should have left it out to thaw first before you tried to open it.

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would look ridiculous, but the cookie dough gives after a minute or so of pulling. the effort makes both you and jungkook stumble onto the kitchen floor. both of your laughs overlapping each other. you hold the cookie dough, “let’s stay here first, i’m tired.” your breathing is exaggerated to add effect.

he grins, moving to grab two spoons before sitting down next to you, against the cabinets on the floor. he sticks the two spoons into the cookie dough, the two of you start digging in. “you know what would be perfect with this right now?” jungkook sits up, standing again and moving to the freezer. you raise an eyebrow, wondering what he’s got in mind. “your vanilla ice cream,” he pulls the tub out.

“and to think you were making fun of me in the store for it,” you narrow your eyes, taking the ice cream from him. jungkook stands above you, smiling at the way you remain on the ground instead of going back to the couch in the living room. nevertheless, he joins you with his spoon in hand.

he watches as you scoop from the container, over exaggerating a shiver when you put it in your mouth. “cold?” he asks, but you shake your head. he looks over to your arm, your goosebumps raising. “liar,” he snorts, taking off his hoodie and handing it to you.

you give him a puzzled look, “i can just get my own—”

“just take it,” he cuts you off, throwing the jacket into your arms. secretly, you smile to yourself, throwing the hoodie over your head and sliding it on. it smells just like him, an overbearing scent that you’ve found comforting these days. a sudden warmth rushes over you.

the sound of the tv is in the background of your conversation, but you only pay attention to jungkook, the man who’s digging into your vanilla ice cream and feeding it to you. “you like feeding your roommates or something?” you mumble as you eat the cold cream.

he shakes his head, a smile on his face. “you’re the first roommate i’ve had.”

you raise your eyebrows, “like ever?” he nods. “makes sense, you don’t know proper roommate etiquette, because you’re never here,” you snort. it was a joke, but it was true. you were projecting your upset through the statement. he is never here, and you just wanted to know why. did he not like being around you? is he just using this place to shower and store his things? was that it?

jungkook doesn’t reply to your remark. completely disregarding it when he speaks again, “yeah, i’ve lived on my own before i moved in here, i moved around a lot.”

“why?” you ask. jungkook never answered ‘why’ questions. always said that it was never your business, that you were always so nosy.

but this time he sighs, “not really sure.” his spoon stabbing into the cookie dough, scraping the sides for the softer dough. “never really had a reason to stay.”

that was the most you’ve ever heard from him. no matter how much you wanted to ask why he stayed here, why he stayed with you. you knew that maybe it was pushing a little too far. one question at a time, baby steps, you tell yourself.

but you couldn’t help but think— wish that you could be a reason to make him stay.

“must be tiring,” you comment, taking a scoop of dough for yourself. he doesn’t reply after that, instead just smearing some of the dough on your cheek and nose. a gasp leaves your throat, wiping the stickiness from your face and transferring it to his. “you’re gonna give me acne,” you groan.

“oh relax, i’ll help you wash it off.” he smiles as he stands up, holding his hand out for you to take. he sets the ice cream on the counter, you copy with the cookie dough. both of you travelling to the sink to wash your hands and your faces. jungkook dries his face off and stands by, watching as you splash water on your face. you miss a spot on your cheek, which he helps you wipe off. his thumb coming up and swiping against the dough. his hand is warm, if it were there any longer, you would have leaned into his touch.

after you both dried your faces off, you both agreed that you’ve consumed enough cookie dough and ice cream for the night. after returning them to the fridge, you make your way back to the couch. the movie almost over, nearing the ending scenes when you sit down. jungkook chooses another movie, legally blonde. “lots of blonde today, thinking of bleaching your hair?” you joke, throwing a blanket on the both of you.

“you read my mind.” he gasps sarcastically.

another comfortable silence falls in between you both, the sound of elle woods speaking replaces your conversation with each other. you turn and watch as jungkook’s focus remains solely on the tv. you lean back into the couch, smiling to yourself. there was a bittersweet feeling to this moment. you were happy that jungkook was here, but something felt off. you felt yourself getting lonely. you feel this way every time jungkook is about to leave, it’s like you have a warning signal. like that one time last year where jungkook left for two months, december and january, the two most festive months of the year. you were out buying christmas decorations when you felt something inside of you grow cold. it’s when you got in your car that you saw his text.

[7:58 pm] jungkook: *jeon jungkook has sent you $1,000*

[7:58 pm] jungkook: ^^ for rent

[8:21 pm] you: leaving again?

[8:23 pm] jungkook: yeah

[8:24 pm] you: when r u coming back

[8:24 pm] you: i just bought christmas decor :(

[8:25 pm] jungkook: :( sorry

[8:26 pm] jungkook: also not sure

[8:26 pm] jungkook: i’ll be back to see them though! promise. i’ll help you take them down too

with that, you went home and decorated the apartment with a christmas tree, a snowman, and stockings with yours and jungkook’s initials hanging below the tv on the wall. waiting patiently all december and the first two weeks of january to see if jungkook would ever come back to see how cute you made the apartment.

he never did.

rather, he came back the end of january, when all the festivities were done and the decorations were down.

“where are the decorations?” he asks, shrugging off his jacket and walking into the kitchen.

you rolled your eyes, picking up your mug of hot tea. “took them down myself, didn’t think you were coming back.” after that you moved into your room, watching tv and sulking to yourself. sure, you were upset but you shouldn’t have expected anything more from him. it’s become one of the only personality traits that you see in him: ghosting you and coming back like nothing happened. plus, it’s not like he owed you an explanation. you and jungkook were simply roommates, nothing more than that. no matter how much you wanted to get to know him, jungkook always left before you were able to get any deeper than two weeks into his past.

you close your eyes and shake off the memory. breaking the silence when you speak, “you’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

his gaze moves away from the tv. his eyes meeting yours, “why do you say that?”

you break eye contact before you shrug, “i can always feel it.”

he doesn’t say anything after, letting you wallow in the feeling washing over you once again. jungkook was leaving again and he knew you knew. there was nothing he could say, because what did you want to hear? that he’ll stay? maybe it was because it’s only been a day, and he’s already leaving. the whole thing makes your head ache. the both of you continue to watch the movie until the end, the clock striking four in the morning. jungkook turns the tv off when you yawn.

“tired?” he asks. you nod, standing from the couch and turning off the lights. he follows suit, stretching and trailing you down the hall. you walk into your room and lay on your bed, jungkook stays at your door, turning your light off before softly saying, “goodnight.” and then closing your door.

sometime in the morning, around seven or eight, you feel your bed dip beside you. it’s jungkook, you can tell by the smell of his body wash. a strong fruit smell that always feels like it burns your nose. you’re barely awake, your head still lightly aching. your droopy eyelids beckon you to sleep. jungkook doesn’t say anything, instead just sitting there.

in his head he’s saying something, apologizing to you for all the times he left you alone in this big apartment. you must have felt so alone, probably scared too. he’s too much of a coward to say it out loud. so for now, in his head, he repeats the apologies over and over again.

“sweet dreams,” jungkook says. rising from your bed. you can feel it, the comforting weight next to you as you fall back asleep disappears.

you blame your drowsiness for the way you reach out for his arm, gently holding his hand. he stutters in his step, looking back to you and your connected hands. “don’t go,” you mumble, eyes still closed.

and for once. jungkook hesitates. for a split second, he wonders how it’ll feel to stay with you.

but he doesn’t know. and he’ll never know. because in the next minute, he’s slipping his hand away from yours and grabbing his bag. walking out the door. again.

in the morning you wake to an empty apartment. jungkook’s door is closed and it’s just you again. your feet pad against the cold floor into the kitchen, a paper on the island catching your attention.

jungkook’s handwriting is specific, you could tell the marks apart from someone else’s. a smile spreads across your face when you read the note. terribly, your heart pounds and your cheeks flush.

be back in two weeks.

was supposed to be gone the entire month, but i wanted to stop by and see you.

sorry i only stayed for a day.

didn’t say it yesterday, but happy valentine’s day. there’s something in the fridge for you.

take care.

Xx, J.

393 notes · View notes

taurean-brat · 4 years

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Cafuné - Angel Reyes

Summary— Cafuné, an unique, untranslatable Afro-Brazilian Portuguese word meaning “to run your fingers through your lovers hair”. Angel x Spanish Speaking/Latina!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, a little sad (?), mention of sexual situations, the grey sweats and shirtless Angel.

Final Word Count: 2.3K This was supposed to be something short. Like maybe 1K short. Smhh

A/N: Also this is not beta read. I wrote this cause it’s cloudy and cold out and I was listening to the song Cafuné by Micro TDH. It’s a very beautiful song and one of my favorites for when I’m in one of these moods with a candle lit and the room dark and Now I wish I was being held, but sadly I ain’t got a man.

_______________________________________________

The moment you opened your eyes, the grey and cloudy light flooding your room through your slightly open curtains, you knew what kind of day was in store for you and wanted nothing more than to just wish you hadn’t woken up. Or that you lived in an alternate reality… or something. You hated these gloomy, cloudy days for the feelings they elicited in you, and you knew it would only get worse as the day dragged on.

Days like this were rare for you, where you just wanted to be wrapped up tight in your mans arms and do nothing all day, the feelings of listlessness and overwhelming sadness being washed away just by knowing you were safe in those arms. But staring at the empty side of your bed where your husband slept, you knew it wasn’t happening.

Not because he wouldn’t drop everything to come home and be with you if you told him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with the neediness your emotions elicited in you.

With a sigh, you throw the covers off you, shivering at the cool December air, and just briefly you’re taken back to growing up in New York, where it was more than likely snowy and cold enough to freeze hell over.

The reminder just made it worse and with a groan, you pull yourself out of bed, making quick work of making the bed and then heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, staring at your usually vibrant hazel green eyes look more of a glassy grayish blue.

Leaning over the sink, you stare closely at your reflection, your dark curls framing your face in the half up half down you’d thrown it in as they hell over your shoulder and down into the sink.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just a few hours.” You say to yourself looking for the strong woman you usually see in your reflection and not the sad girl you’re not so used to seeing anymore. “Just throw on his favorite hoodie, some leggings, and wait a few hours. Then you can cuddle with Angel all that you want.”

And that’s exactly what you did. You made quit work of throwing on some pink fuzzy socks, black leggings and his favorite hoodie, which happened to be light pink color with a small red rose stitched over the heart and the words “almost dead” in black, gothic lettering across the top. It made you giddy every time he wore it, your giggling nonstop. It wasn’t because men wearing pink was wrong— if anything the fact he’s not afraid of wearing it just makes you love him all the more— but rather because your man, the badass, 6’3”, built as fuck biker can rock the color. And it did things to you.

Immediately, you felt somewhat better, just standing there inhaling the unmistakeable scent of him for a few minutes before you moved along to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee and eat the french toast you found covered on the counter, still warm and you wondered how you didn’t wake up at the smell. Just looking at it, you knew he’d made it exactly to your liking with extra cinnamon, and very obviously lots of powdered sugar.

Making quick work of eating your breakfast, and serving your coffee (two splashes of French vanilla creamer and three teas spoons of sugar), you washed your plate, putting it to dry and then grabbed your speaker off the table.

While you still wished you were in Angels arms, the simple gesture of him making you your favorite breakfast, warmed your heart, and you couldn’t resist sending him a text as soon as you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on:

To: Mi Santo Diablo:

Thank you for leaving me breakfast, Mi Rey. Te Amo hasta que no queden estrellas en el cielo.

You made quick work of taking a picture of your small smile, face half hidden in his hoodie and attaching it to the text before pressing send.

While waiting for a response you turned on your speaker, connected it to your phone and put on some upbeat Spanish music while you put on a show on mute in the background (a habit you’d picked up as a teenager so you wouldn’t feel so lonely while studying late at night). You’d started cleaning up as the music started. While it wasn’t something you wanted to do today, it was better to keep yourself busy than disappear into your mind.

You spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen, and moved on to vacuuming the rug in the living room when you heard your phone go off and you knew it was Angel, so you opened it quickly

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You’re welcome, Mi Dulce. You deserved a day to sleep in. Yo también te amo. Hasta que el sol deje de arder.

You smiled and went to send a series of emojis when another text came in.

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You look bella in my sweater, bebe. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.

You deleted the text you were gonna send and then proceeded to sending a few puppy eye emojis with some of the emoji with the floating hearts around the face, making use of the echo feature so it would fill up his screen. Before you went back to cleaning.

By the time you were done, cleaning, doing laundry, and putting said laundry away, the sun was starting to set and getting dark.

Walking back to the kitchen, you go about making vodka sauce and white rice to make penne ala vodka. Usually you’d wait for Angel, but you hadn’t eaten since breakfast since you skipped lunch. Plus, he called to say he’d be a bit late and to eat without him. And while you didn’t want to, and it made you frown, you did so because you’d likely pass out if you went any longer without eating.

You ate your food pretty quickly, as always when it was a pasta dish, setting some aside for Angel in the microwave and another one for him to take to the clubhouse tomorrow before putting the rest of it in the fridge and washing the dishes.

While still in the kitchen, you lit a few candles, setting one on the counter and taking the other with you to the coffee table in front of the couch as you watched the last rays of the sun disappear.

Sitting on the couch, you grabbed your phone off the table and lowered the music a bit so it wasn’t blaring so loudly the neighbors probably felt it in their bones. You found a not quite so upbeat song, but wasn’t so sad either. It just depended. It was one you’d found a few months back and you couldn’t help but falling in love with the lyrics.

Putting it on repeat you laid on the couch and just stared blankly at the fire, listening to the song, and singing along certain parts.

You were so caught up in just singing along quietly, staring at the fire of your candle, that you didn’t hear the door open and close behind you. Nor did you hear the footsteps walking towards the back of the couch nor feel the warm chocolate brown eyes staring you, full of love as you sighed and curled up a little more as the song restarted, putting your face deeper into the hoodie.

To Angel, it was cute finding you curled up on the couch in his clothes. Filled him with a lot more love than he thinks he’d ever be able to show you but he’d be damned if he didn’t try every now and then to do so. It also made him want to fuck you in them until you could only say his name and were creaming all over him

But seeing you now, curled up as small as you could make yourself and likely a hairsbreadth away from startle to cry, he knew that wasn’t what you needed, so before he did anything he walked back up to your room, changed out of his clothes and put on some grey sweats, forgoing the shirt.

It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of you, blocking your view of the candle and watching, slightly amused as you blinked and trailed your eyes up his legs, stopping briefly on his very obvious dick print before they trailed up his chest and then to his face before meeting his eyes.

“Move, I wanna lay down.” He says without much else, watching the small smile make its way to her face, likely about to say something, before he decided to make his way on to the couch. His girl was small, fun size, a huffing voice sounding very much like yours said in his head, and that made her easy to just pick up and carry around. So he did just that. Picked her up and then stretched himself out on the couch, before sitting her on top of him. The annoyed huff she let out was followed shortly by giggling

“Excuse me, I was laying there.” She says and he scoffs.

“Nah, mami, you were curled up like a little kitten.” He says and smirks, “Big difference.”

The pout on her face is cute and he can’t help but laugh, as he brings her down to place a kiss on her lips.

“Rude, mi amor. Very rude.” You says, quickly getting comfortable, hiding her face in his neck as his arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. And when he thinks you’re gonna be quiet, and just enjoy being in his arms, you lift your head up, eyes narrowed at him. “Also, who the fuck gave you permission to look like such a fucking thot, huh? Wearing my favorite grey sweats without my permission.”

It made him laugh, his arms tightening around you a little more but not enough to hurt you.

“Hush up, mi dulce, you Ain’t one to talk. Wearing them fucking leggings.” He’s quick to move his hands down to your tights clad ass and squeezing before he lands one hard smack on each cheek, causing you to yelp and then giggle as he brings his arms back around you rubbing up and down your back slightly before embracing you again.

“Alright, fair point.” You say, looking up at him, your eyes full of love, and if humanly possible you’d likely have hearts for pupils whenever you stared at him. You kiss at his neck and what you can reach of his jaw for a few before you just decide to lay there, the song once again restarting.

Angel lays there, just listening to you breath, feeling you inches arms, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, nor where he’d be. You were one of the few constants in his life. The one person he knew he could always count on to have his back and support him and he loved you for it. Always will. And hearing your even breathing on his neck, the small puffs of air warm against his neck only certified his resolve to make sure nothing ever happened to you, that he never did anything to hurt you. At least not intentionally. He knew he’d found forever with you. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Listening to the song playing, he sang along so quietly he doubted you could hear him, aware of your sleepy state:

Yo quisiera darte las constelaciones

Más millones de caricias en un manantial (yeh)

Si te fallo quiero que no me perdones (no)

Porque no mereces que nadie te trate mal

Tu presencia es necesaria por razones

Que hasta el sol de hoy no encuentro ni cómo explicar

Pero estoy agradecido por montones

Porque te encontré cuando no hallaba qué buscar

Tu cabello se posa sobre mi pecho

Y es valioso el hecho de sentirte respirar

Lo creas o no, me siento satisfecho

Pues, tú me mostraste lo importante que es amar

Tus ojos me reflejan el sentimiento

Justo en tus pupilas se deduce que es real (real)

Si no quieres decir nada dame un beso (dame un beso)

Y no me sueltes nunca más

Me siento fenomenal

Porque siento que es real

Listening to him sing the words so quietly, nearly sounding like a prayer to you, warmed your heart, and the tight feeling present in your chest from the moment you woke up seemed to just evaporate as you felt his arms tighten their hold on you, one arm staying around you and the other traveling up to card his fingers through your hair, his lips against the top of your head. And you couldn’t help yourself:

“Te amo, Angel Ignacio Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.” You said, with a slight squeeze of your own arms around him before you gave in to the tiredness you’d felt for hours now. Knowing you were safe.

Slipping away into unconsciousness, you smiled as you heard his reply.

“Te amo, Y/N Y/M/N Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.”

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Tags: @calif0rnia-lovers I saw you post something about being tagged in anything involving hoodie szn or just hoodies in general I think @blessedboo @angelreyesgirl

Please lemme know if you want to be tagged(or if not)🥺🥺 also I hope you enjoy it!! Comments and creative criticism welcomed🥰🥰🥰

#mayans mc #mayans fandom #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x oc #clayton cardenas #alright lemme disappear from here for abit #that fandom blog sounds like a good idea rn #hennyways enjoy #peace out #this is also getting posted to ao3

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captainjanegay · 3 years

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Summary:

Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue.

A/N: This fic was supposed to be just a short one-shot for the Stucky Bingo but somehow, it's at 11k at this point and it's nowhere near done. I have two more chapters all done and ready and a vague outline for the rest of the story. It's my first time posting a fic chapter by chapter so it's both exciting and kinda scary. I hope you'll like the story enough to stick with me for a while.

My sixth fill for the @stuckybingo2020 ♥

At some point in his life Bucky didn't mind spending hours at airports and he found traveling —even work-related —quite enjoyable. But that was when he was young, stupid and alone. Now he's older, just as stupid and has a wonderful girl in his life.

The girl in question is now standing next to him, little arms crossed and a sullen expression on her face. She's repeatedly kicking at the leg of the chair he's sitting on. There's no real force to it —she's only 7 after all —and she's not doing it to do any real damage to anyone or anything. It's just little taps, really and she's doing it out of boredom. But dear lord, Bucky's about to explode.

"Alex, sweetheart," Bucky says, slowly breathing out through his nose. "Could you please stop with that kicking? It's a bit annoying."

"But papa," she whines, drawling out the word. "I'm bored!"

"I know, love and I'm really sorry but papa’s gotta do something important for work," he sighs, trying to run a hand through her hair. She ducks and flops onto the chair next to him, an angry little pout on her face. "I have to finish it before we go on the plane. I'll do it as quickly as possible and then I'll be all yours, ok?"

It's not really surprising when he doesn't get an answer. With another sigh, he leans to the side and presses a kiss to the top of his daughter's head and then turns back to his laptop.

From the very moment she woke up today, Bucky knew it's gonna be a long day. She was cranky and teary all morning, not wanting to say goodbye to Natasha and it took a good hour to calm her down. Then Bucky had to basically beg her to eat something before they left for the airport. It wasn't a great day. And Bucky knew she didn't do it just to make him miserable, she was just as frustrated and tired as he was. On top of that, he has to edit and upload a report from the conference and the airport Wi-Fi is so bad Bucky is close to tears himself.

The work would probably take less time if he wasn't getting distracted every minute or so and glancing to the side, making sure that Alex is fine. Or relatively fine, the bad mood excluded. At the moment she is slouching on the plastic chair, still pouting. Felicia—a pink stuffed Triceratops —is placed on her lap so at least Alex has something to occupy her for a moment.

Bucky tries his best to get through the documents quickly but he doesn't want to miss any errors either. He gets lost in the work for the entirety of about five minutes when he hears something truly surprising.

Alex laughs. It’s so unexpected after what seems like hours of complaining, crying and whining that Bucky’s head snaps up from his laptop and he looks at his daughter.

She is still sitting by his side, Felicia pressed closely to her chest and there is a smile on her face. It’s definitely not aimed at Bucky, though. So Bucky follows her line of sight and… oh.

It’s not like he didn’t notice the guy sitting across from them before. Because he did. It would be rather impossible not to notice this guy. He is tall and well-built and could look intimidating if it wasn’t for his bright blue eyes or tousled golden hair or the gentle smile or the fact that he’s wearing the softest beige sweater Bucky has ever seen. He is both ridiculously handsome and cute at the same time. So of course, Bucky noticed him before. But now he tries to figure out what about him made Alex laugh. It doesn’t take long, because the man is holding up his notebook, showing the page to Alex.

On the page are three little, cartoon-like doodles. The first one at the top looks unmistakably like Alex—her brows are furrowed, arms crossed and a little storm cloud is hovering above her. Underneath there’s his daughter again but this time she’s laughing, her eyes only small slits and a little sun peeks from behind the cloud. The last drawing, just next to the smiling Alex, is of Bucky. His head is partly hidden behind a laptop screen and there’s a look of utter concentration on his face. Above his cartoon persona floats a swarm of little gears, question marks and lightbulbs. Bucky snorts. It’s probably quite accurate.

Noticing that Bucky is staring at the drawing, the stranger startles and his cheeks turn red.

“I’m not some creep, I promise!” he starts explaining himself, before Bucky even opens his mouth. “I just—she seemed so upset and I’ve heard you said you have something important to do so I just wanted—Man, it’s weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry I promise I just wanted to help, not bug your kid without permission.”

“It’s not—,” Bucky starts, slightly taken aback. “It’s very sweet of you, actually. Thank you. Really, that’s just—I don’t mind. And Alex here seems to enjoy your drawings.” Bucky smiles down at his daughter and then at the stranger. His smile falters a bit and he sighs. “I’d really love to chat some more but I really need to get this shit done and the airport Wi-Fi is truly horrible.”

“Oh! Bad word!” Alex gasps, covering Bucky’s mouth with her little hand. “You said a bad word! No sweets for you!”

The stranger laughs at that and Bucky probably shouldn’t be as charmed as he feels right now. He just kisses Alex's hand and leans away from it.

“OK, sweetheart. Promise not to eat any when we get home,” he says solemnly. “But papa really needs to work a little longer, OK? Ten more minutes, I promise. Try not to bother the nice man too much until then, yeah?”

She lets a long-suffering sigh but she agrees.

“I’m Steve, by the way,” the man says, smiling at Bucky.

Before he gets the chance to answer, Alex chimes in, “I’m Alexandra. And papa’s name is James but only mama and people at work call him that. Everyone calls him Bucky.”

The man — Steve — lets out a small laugh. “It’s nice to meet you both. Alexandra, do you want me to draw you something specific, while we let your papa work?”

“Oh, can you draw Felicia? She’s a...,” Alex furrows her brows in concentration, “tri-ce-ra-tops! That’s a dinosaur!”

Steve leans forward from his chair and smiles at her. “She’s so cool! But weren’t dinosaurs kinda dangerous?”

“Some of them, yeah. They ate other dinosaurs. But the ones like Felicia only ate plants, so she’s cool.”

Steve lets out an attentive hum but something in his expression tells Bucky that it’s not new information for him and he’s just indulging Alex and letting her share what she knows. It makes Bucky feel a wave of sympathy towards this Steve guy.

Soon enough, a new page of Steve’s notebook gets covered with doodles of various dinosaurs, based on Alex’s jurassic knowledge—it’s a bit flawed, but Bucky is proud of her nonetheless.

It takes Bucky a few moments to stop sending glances towards the two. It’s partly because Steve—no matter how sweet he seems to be—is still a stranger. Steve might be bigger than him, but Bucky would end him if he tried to do anything to his little girl. But there are no red lights when it comes to Steve—and Bucky always prided himself on his ability to read people.

The other thing making it hard to go back to work is the fact that the scene he’s looking at is quite an adorable one. Both Alex and Steve are sitting at the edges of their seats, leaning over the passage between the two rows of chairs and their eyes are fixed on the notebook propped on Steve’s knee. They’re chatting, exchanging random facts about dinosaurs but since their knowledge is limited, they switch to talking about modern animals soon enough. Steve listens intently to whatever Alex has to say without patronising her. And sadly, Bucky has met a fair share of adults for whom it was impossible to take Alex seriously just because she was a kid. It calms Bucky enough to actually focus on his work for a little longer.

Some peace of mind does wonders for his concentration and the ten minutes he promised Alex are actually enough for him to finish editing the reports. The WiFi is still a bitch, though. However, after staring at the loading circle for what feels like an eternity, he is able to send the documents. With a triumphant little cheer, he turns off the laptop and slides it back into his bag.

Steve looks up at him and smiles. Alex completely ignores him, though, still too focused on whatever Steve was drawing. Bucky feels a bit betrayed. When she looks up, she glances at Steve first, probably to ask why the drawing has stopped and turns to Bucky when she notices Steve looking his way.

“Oh, you’ve finished the work, daddy?” she asks and when he nods, she smiles and reaches to wrap her arms around his neck. “It took you some time. But I’m proud of you.”

Bucky laughs at that, shaking his head slightly, “Thank you, sunshine. I see you were having fun with Steve while I was busy?”

“Yeah! Steve drawings are so pretty! He drew you riding a dinosaur!” Alex giggles, pointing at one of the little drawings.

Raising his brows, Bucky sends Steve a questioning look but the other man just shrugs and rubs at his neck. “It was her idea,” he says with a sheepish smile.

The doodle Alex is pointing at is indeed of him sitting on a dinosaur's back. It’s the one with the long, giraffe-like neck, Brachiosaurus if he remembers correctly. The cartoon Bucky’s arms are wrapped around the base of the reptile’s neck, his hair fluttering behind him and his mouth is open in either a big smile or a scream, he’s not sure. Either way, it’s a very cute drawing.

“Well,” Bucky says. “I’m not a fan of horses but I’d totally ride a dinosaur if I had a chance. Shouldn’t he have a saddle, though?”

It’s not even that funny but Steve still laughs and Bucky smiles at that. His daughter is less impressed or at least tries to appear so. She rolls her eyes but there’s a grin on her face.

“You’re so silly, daddy. They didn’t have saddles back then! And besides you’d need a very, very big one for a dinosaur!”

Bucky hums in agreement and looks up at the departure display. Noticing that their flight’s gate is open, he nudges Alex lightly.

“We gotta go, sweetheart,” he says. She perks up a bit but then glances at Steve with a small pout. “Sadly, we have to say goodbye to Steve. On the bright side, we’re gonna be home soon, yeah?”

Alex nods and slides off her chair. Steve looks up at the display and straightens up.

“Oh, my flight’s boarding, too. But you know what?” Steve asks and then rips the page with all the dinosaur doodles and holds it out to Alex. “You should keep this, if you want.”

Hearing this, Alex’s whole face lights up and she takes the drawings with gentle hands, as if afraid to mess it up. “Thank you, Steve! Those are so cool I’m gonna keep them forever!”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve smiles. He looks up at Bucky. “It was nice to meet you, guys.”

“Likewise. Thank you again for the help. It was very nice of you,” Bucky says sincerely.

“It was my pleasure. My knowledge about dinosaurs is so much better now,” Steve’s smile grows even bigger and Bucky chuckles.

Bucky leans to help Alex put on her little backpack, since she refuses to put down the drawing and then reaches for his bag. He rests his hand on his daughter’s back and turns to Steve one last time. He’s still sitting at the edge of his seat and is watching them. A smile is still plastered to his face and at this point Bucky is sure that it’s his default setting.

“Bye, Steve. Have a safe flight,” Bucky says.

“Bye, Steve. Thank you for the dinosaurs,” Alex adds, making Steve laugh.

“You are very welcome, Alexandra,” he says. “Have a nice day, guys.”

Bucky gently steers Alex towards their gate. Before they disappear behind the corner, he turns away to look at Steve one more time. The man is already looking back and he waves at them when he notices Bucky staring. Alex waves back enthusiastically and Bucky just ducks his head, feeling flustered all of sudden. He used to be more collected around nice, attractive people. And Steve definitely qualifies as both.

***

Some time later they finally make it to the plane. Alex flops down onto the middle seat and eventually — after a long discussion and promises that he won’t ruin it — she lets Bucky put the drawings she got from Steve into the folder he keeps his documents in. When the treasure is safely put away Bucky straightens to put his bag in the overhead compartment.

“Oh,” he hears a voice behind his back and a low chuckle quickly follows. “Fancy bumping into you here.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder and the surprise makes him try to close the compartment while his other hand is still holding the bag. He yelps in pain, making Alex look up.

“Steve!” she says with a smile, completely ignoring her father’s distress.

“Hello again, Alexandra,” Steve shoots her a quick smile and looks at Bucky, concerned. “You’re OK? I didn’t want to spook you.”

Man, he really got bad at keeping his cool around attractive people. Feeling a blush creep up his neck, Bucky nods. “No, no, you didn’t. I’m just a clutz, this happens a lot, ignore me.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at him but he doesn’t say anything more. For a moment they just stand in the narrow aisle, looking at each other. Finally, Bucky’s ability to think kicks back in and he moves to the side.

“Sorry, you probably want to get through to your seat.”

“Actually,” Steve says and glances down at the boarding pass in his hand. After checking it, he points to the seat by the window, on Alex’s other side. “That one’s mine.”

“Oh,” Bucky looks at the seat and then at Steve. His cheeks still feel warm for some reason but he hopes he's not blushing too visibly. "That's great. I'm just gonna—"

Bucky shifts to the other side and takes a step back, making room for Steve.

"You're flying with us back home?" Alex asks with a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Will you draw something more for me?"

"Alex, come on. Don't abuse Steve niceness like that," Bucky scolds her gently but before he can even finish the sentence, Steve starts shaking his head.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I often doodle when I get bored anyway so I'd be honoured to draw for you again, Alexandra," Steve grins at her.

She actually lets out a little happy squeal when she hears that and Bucky's heart skips a beat. He's absolutely charmed by the way Steve treats his daughter. He really seems like entertaining some random little girl is the best thing he could be doing and while Bucky - absolutely objectively - thinks that Alex is the most wonderful little girl in the world, it still seems unusual. And he positively melts every time that Steve uses her full name, just because that was the way she introduced herself the first time. Most adults Bucky knows don't do that with other adults, not to mention kids. And Steve is just so… kind and genuine, it takes Bucky off guard but it's a really nice surprise.

"Ok, fine," Bucky says with a smile. "You have no idea what you've brought on yourself. Is it possible to strain your hand from drawing too much? The flight's almost two hours, right?"

"Does your dad always complain this much?" Steve asks Alex and she giggles in response. He sends Bucky a glance over her head and he has a smirk on his face. Ignoring Bucky again, he says to Alex, "Hey, have you ever watched Sesame Street? There was this one grouchy green guy."

Bucky just sends him his most unimpressed look. Steve doesn't seem affected. Alex is delighted. And in truth, Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek to contain a smile.

It turns out that on top of being nice and lovely, Steve is also a little shit, because he draws a Bucky-version of Oscar the Grouch - with a grumpy expression and wild hair, sitting in a garbage can. It's actually amazing. Bucky doesn't say that out loud, but he snorts when he sees it, so that might betray him a little.

This time — prompted by the mention of Sesame Street — the conversation resolves mostly around animated movies. To Bucky’s surprise, it turns out that Steve is a huge Disney fan. He doesn’t even try to hide it. Not to brag but Bucky knows his way around animated movies — partly because he has a 7-year-old daughter and partly because who doesn’t like animated movies? But compared to Steve and Alex? He knows nothing. They use names he doesn’t even recognise - who or what even is Flit? Judging by Steve’s drawing it’s some kind of a bird, apparently. When Bucky can’t remember — he knows it, of course, it just slipped his mind — the name of the redheaded princess from Brave, he is given the most disdainful look he’s ever seen. Both by his daughter and by Steve. Bucky still tries to participate in the conversation, at least for as much as they let him. He never expected his own daughter to team up with some stranger against him. It hurts.

The pain is all forgotten when Steve and Alex start quietly singing Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid together. Bucky can’t help a laugh that bubbles from his chest at the sight. How is Steve even real, Bucky has no idea. He is over six feet of muscle, his bicep is bigger than Alex's head and he could probably bench press Bucky and here he is, sitting next to Bucky’s little girl, drawing a picture of Megara, because she’s his favourite Disney princess and singing a song from The Little Mermaid.

This guy can’t be real.

About half an hour into the flight it turns out that Bucky was wrong — Alex does leave Steve alone but it’s only because the tiredness catches up to her and she falls asleep. And she’s sleeping with her head resting on Steve’s arm. It’s a really nice arm, Bucky has to admit, a nap on such an arm would be good and comfortable even for him, probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that he feels left out.

“Sorry,” Bucky says quietly. “You probably want your arm back, I can just—”

He offers to move Alex’s sleeping body but Steve just shrugs with his free arm, careful not to jostle the girl.

“Don't want to wake her and I really don't mind," Steve says, smiling at Bucky.

"You sure?" Bucky asks and after getting a nod in confirmation, he chuckles and shakes his head. “I keep trying to figure out where the catch is but I’ve got nothing. You’re just naturally this kind, aren’t you?”

Steve barks out a laugh and then slaps his hand over his mouth to quiet the noise. He looks down to make sure he didn’t wake Alex.

“Oh there’s plenty wrong with me,” Steve says with a chuckle. “For one I’m usually really awkward around kids. Alexandra’s such a great girl, though. But I do like to help and try to be nice whenever I can.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve. “You think you’d side-track me by complimenting my daughter? You’re totally right, but that doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Steve makes the ‘bring it’ gesture and grins. “Come on. Hit me with your best guesses.”

“OK. OK, fine,” Bucky says and shifts in his seat so he can look at Steve more directly. Crossing his arms, he asks, “Do I have a limited number of guesses?”

“It’s not that long of a flight,” Steve shrugs with one shoulder, grin still in place.

In a theatrically thoughtful gesture Bucky strokes his chin gauging Steve with his eyes.

“You… secretly work as a hitman” Bucky says slowly, “or like, an underwear model. Which is not a bad thing to do.”

A blush creeps up Steve’s cheeks as he laughs again. “Those are… pretty far off. Why those two?”

“Well, you’re built appropriately for both from what I can see,” Bucky explains, enjoying the way Steve cheeks go darker. Maybe he’s not so helpless at talking to attractive people as he thought. It feels a whole lot like flirting.

That terrifies him for a moment. He didn't do flirting in what feels like ages. He doesn't have time for this. Should he even do this? He has a daughter, he shouldn’t just—

Bucky takes a deep breath and smacks himself mentally across the head. He’s not doing anything bad. He’s just talking and having fun with an attractive stranger. Maybe even flirting a bit. And that’s OK, this is allowed, he doesn’t have to go anywhere else with that. It’s not like he’s ever going to see the guy again, anyway. Natasha would punch him for denying himself that. So he will make sure not to mention it the next time they talk.

“Well…,” Steve rubs the back of his neck. “I am not. Hitman or— I’m neither of those. I’m actually an illustrator. Mostly freelance stuff. I paint sometimes, too. But that’s mostly for fun.”

“OK, fine. Somehow I can believe that. You seem like an artsy type,” Bucky agrees.

“No hitman vibes anymore?”

“Who says a hitman can’t enjoy painting in his free time?”

Steve laughs, throwing his head back. Somehow he manages to keep the left side of his body completely still, mindful of Alex sleeping on him.

“I don’t know if there’s a point in trying to convince you, but I’m really not.”

“Sure. Probably what a hitman would say,” Bucky waves a hand at him but smiles. “That’s cool though. Being able to get paid for doing what you love.”

“It is. Sometimes you get frustrated enough to hate it but it’s still pretty cool,” Steve agrees. “You don’t like your job?”

Bucky scrunches his nose, making a non-committal sound as he tries to find the best way to explain. “It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s fun. Interesting, exciting, sometimes frustrating as hell, too. And the responsibility can be incredibly stressful. It’s just… I never took time to think about what I really like doing in life. And since the job was good enough, I just stuck with it.”

Steve hums, nodding along to Bucky's words. "It's never too late to figure it out, you know?" he says. "I mean, I don't wanna impose and tell you how to live your life or anything. I'd never. I just— I think it's an important thing to know."

"You might be right," Bucky agrees. He glances down at Alex. "I don't think it's a good time for me to experiment, you know? Besides — if there's one thing I know for sure that I like it's having this little rascal around."

The smile on Steve's face turns soft. But only for a moment, before it turns back into that smirk he had earlier. "Any guesses left? About my dark side?"

"A few," Bucky grins.

It's a bit of a lie because he really struggles to see Steve as anything but perfect but he can try. It's just a game they're playing to kill time after all.

"You are that kind of guy who can eat garbage food and not move a finger and still look like you've just walked straight out of a gym. I hate those people. It's so unfair."

"Are all of your guesses based on how I look? I kind of see a pattern here so far."

Bucky opens his mouth to protest but there's something in the way Steve looks at him, with a raised eyebrow and one corner of his mouth quirked up that makes him close his mouth without a word. He might be blushing. Maybe he's being too forward. It's probably not appropriate to talk about a stranger's body this much.

Before he gets the chance to apologize, Steve answers, "And you're wrong, again. I like working out. Takes my mind off things, helps me clear my head when I need that. Besides I used to be small and sickly my whole childhood. Couldn't even play with other kids for too long without getting an asthma attack. So I'm kinda compensating for that," he jokes.

"Really?"

"Yeah. All pointy elbows and bony knees."

"Huh," Bucky says. "Bet you looked way cuter than me when I had my bowl cut. We all had our dark moments."

Steve laughs again and Bucky really enjoys the sound of that. He really enjoys Steve's company in general, which is weird considering they've just met. It usually takes him much more time to get comfortable around people. Maybe it's the fact that they'll go their separate ways as soon as the plane lands makes it all easier.

"I'm kinda disappointed, you know?" Steve starts after a moment. "I thought you'd guess at least once. Or at least would be more creative with those."

"Who says I'm done? It was all on purpose, I was just assessing, gathering intel. I'm a scientist, I don't know if I've mentioned that before," Bucky points a finger at Steve. "You've got to be methodical about stuff."

Raising his hands in surrender, Steve tries to keep a straight face. He fails miserably.

"I wanted to say that you secretly hate dogs or cats but that would be just too harsh," Bucky says. "I don't think you're a monster."

"I love dogs," Steve confirms. "Always wanted to get one but my flat's too small and I doubt that'd be good for a dog. I don't have anything against cats but I feel like they don't… like me that much."

Bucky chuckles. "I feel like there's a story there."

"Just— My friend Sam has a cat and she absolutely hates me. I can't leave my phone on the table cause she pushes it off, but she doesn't touch Sam's. Every time I'm there she follows me around and hisses at me for no reason. She peed in my shoe more than once," Steve says and tries to look hurt when Bucky starts laughing. "It's not funny! I haven't done anything to deserve this. I tried to bribe her with food, I tried to pet her but I only got scratched for my efforts. And she doesn't do that with anyone but me."

"So that's your dark secret? That your nemesis is a cat?" Bucky asks with a grin.

"It's… definitely true."

“Can’t say I’ve seen that one coming,” Bucky laughs.

Steve shrugs with one arm. “I’m full of surprises.”

Clearly, Bucky thinks, shaking his head at the other man.

Title: Wrap me up (in your love) Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745402/chapters/67911988 Square filled: B2 - Airport Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Kid Fic, No powers AU Summary: Bucky is a single dad coming back from a work trip with a very bored, very whiney 7-year-old girl. A mysterious stranger with a kind heart and a notebook full of doodles comes to the rescue. Word count: 4591

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taliaquinn · 4 years

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Why Me!? Chapter 11

True Bee: I have been abandoned Betrayed UNLOVED

Maribug: I haven't even been gone for FIVE minutes, Didn’t Juleka confiscate your phone privileges?

True Bee: Right now she's occupied keeping the class from killing each other

Maribug: You should be helping her!!!

True Bee: I am, I'm giving the others the glare

True Bee: Wait Aurore and Kagami just stormed in

True Bee: ooooo now Kagami is yelling at Adrien

Maribug: Does she have her Saber? Please TELL ME SHE DOESNT!!

True Bee: Aww Aurore pulled her away before I could check :(

True Bee: Wait No, Now Aurore is yelling at Adrien

Maribug: Why the heck isn't Bustier doing anything!?

True Bee: Man I should’ve brought popcorn

True Bee: Oh Snap Mendeliev just walked in to pull Aurore and Chloe away

True Bee: Oop she’s glaring at Bustier and Alya now

True Bee: Lila is being Lila

True Bee: Not even 10 minutes and the class is already in Chaos without you

True Bee: Speaking of DUPAIN CHENG I EXPECT A MORE THOROUGH EXPLANATION!!

Maribug: Woman keep people from killing each other and I’ll Tell you soon

Maribug: Actually no keep the people we like safe, I Don't care about the rest

True Bee: Yes Ma'am

True Bee: KAGAMI HAD A SWORD I REPEAT KAGAMI HAD A SWORD

Maribug: Good Luck

True Bee: TRAITOR

Marinette felt bad she really did. But then again now the class wasn't her problem anymore and she felt joy. She prayed Chloe could keep the class together for a while. With a sigh, she walked up to her room to finish her packing. Her Maman was now busy calling Mr.Wayne to ask about the arrangements. Dick said that if Bruce wasn’t ready she could stay with him at Bludhaven in the meantime. Damian was texting her about the “rules”.

No mistreating his pets, Don’t try to become Graysons Favourite sibling “because that spot is already filled”. Don’t try to seperate Tim Drake from his Coffee, Cassandra Cain is dangerous but awesome and Jason’s Existence was to not be mentioned outside of the manor.

What was even that family? Seriously she knew that they all had interesting backgrounds but Wasn't Jason Todd murdered by an Arkham Crazy a few years ago? Seriously that family sounded like a perfect base for a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode. Huh maybe her secretly being a superhero won't be the strangest thing in the family.

Marinette quickly packed her sketchbook and made sure to put the horse miraculous box into her purse. Master Fu was updated to an extent that she was going to be out of the country, out of continent really, for a few weeks. Luckily she had Kalki to help with teleportation. She didn't have to panic about customs or anything. Mr.Wayne had a Private Plane. She’ll be flying over to Gotham with her parents and they'll be staying at a hotel for a few days. Get her “acclimated” to an American city and the customs. Paris will have to go without delicious sweets and treats for a few days.

Taking a final glance around the room Marinette was suddenly filled with a sense of homesickness. Didn't matter that she hadn't left,she didn’t even know when she'd come back. Sadly she had to leave some of her sewing and designing things. She had made sure to finish all of her commissions. However only a quick glance at her emails and her MDC website revealed that a lot of purchases and commission inquiries were being made. As soon as she gets to Gotham she will have to try a good fabric store and buy a new sewing machine and mannequin. She wasn’t a fool, she is definitely taking some of the expensive fabrics, Alexeis Fencing uniform was safely packed along with her saber.

With a final glance around she crawled down. And let the door shut with a final click.

Gotham City U.S.A 2:30 pm

“Sabine Sabine Sa- Of course, Marinette can stay with me for a bit longer. Yes yes, Dick already told me the basics about the situation. Are you sure you don’t want me to get involved? You really should get the police involved. I don’t like bullies or liars.” Bruce stated. Seriously Bruce was really tempted to fly over to Paris and press charges against those little demons. Heck, he wants to press charges against the foolish teacher and idiotic principle.

“Bruce calm down, trust me I will handle the school and the bullies, right now I want to get Marinette away from them” Sabine stated with a growing smirk. Oh, don’t mess with her. Bustier and Damocles are going down. However, she had to be a little patient and play the long game. She knew Marinette wanted to handle her classmates.

“Fine don’t worry about it, what are you two planning to do about school?” he asked, a bit concerned. Seriously another one of his kids was getting bullied and harassed.

Bruce was having flashbacks to the bullying and harassment Dick and Jason went through when they went to school. Dick dealt with months of being called things like gypsy trash, charity cases, and circus brat before he finally built up the courage and told Bruce. Jason on the other hand, Bruce found out really quickly about his bullying. Mostly because Jason would get into fights. Tim didn't deal with bullying that bad, sure he got called a nerd and orphan trash but Bruce handled that very quickly because by then he was an expert. Bruce wasn't willing to put Cassandra through school. No one dared bully Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

“We actually haven’t thought that far,” Sabine admitted sheepishly. “But we have the necessary paperwork prepared”

“Why not enroll her in Gotham Academy along with Damian?” Bruce suggested

“It's a private academy, the tuition is in the 30,000’s” Sabine suggested exasperatedly.

“You’re kidding right?”

“I’m just saying I don’t think Marinette would be comfortable with going to a school like that.”

“She went to school with a Model, The Mayor's Daughter, and a comic book artist”

“Bruce!”

“I’m just saying Gotham Academy has already been the school where all of my older kids have attended, plus it has the best security due to the fact that I funded it.” Yes, Bruce was an overprotective parent. Sue him.

With a sigh Sabine couldn’t help but give in she was also an overprotective parent. “Fine but You’ll be the one to deal with her freakout over the costs”

“Deal”

Orly Airport Paris, France 5:00 pm

With a quick hop, Marinette couldn’t help but gape at the private jet with the blaring WAYNE INDUSTRIES on the side. Once they were inside they made sure to get comfortable. It was going to be at least an 8-hour flight. Marinette took out her sketchbook and quickly sketched out a few new future designs. however, she took a quick glance at her parents and saw that her mother had dozed off on her father's shoulder. She quickly flipped a page that revealed a few ideas for an altered ladybug outfit. She needed a redesigned outfit. No more skin-tight suits or pigtails. She's doing a loose outfit and braids, being a superhero with loose hair was plain impractical.

Seriously there is a reason why all superheroes either have short hair or have their hair tied back. With a few final touches, she was done with the redesign, now all that was left was to show Tikki the new design. That's another worry for Marinette. Finding time to talk with Tikki was easy enough to do with her parents. They were bakers who had to wake up early so they usually went to sleep really quickly and early plus she was also an only child, which made it easy for Marinette to slip away for her Ladybug nightly adventures and talk with Tikki. How is she gonna manage that in a house filled with a bunch of people?

Marinette flipped to another page and decided to start sketching a new dress design. She’s curious about what type of colors she wants to use. Maybe Marinette should make it all black? No, too dark. Maybe a few touches of blue? Nah. Red? Nope, she has enough red clothing. Purple? Yuck. Red and Green? Nope, she doesn't want to look like a traffic light. Gold!! Black and gold would be perfect!! Cape? Wait no, Edna Mode the animated icon made a good point on why capes should be banned.

Taking a quick glance around she finally risked taking a peak on Tikki. Tikki was comfortable situated and munching on a bunch of sweets. Marinette softly closed the purse and decided that sleep was the perfect course of action. Wrapping her sweater around herself she allowed the warmth and darkness to overtake her.

Cesaire Apartment Paris, France 7:30pm

“Okay listen up gang since Marinette abruptly dropped out, it’s up to us to raise the money for the school dance and the end of the year field trip which is a few months away,” Alya said.

Lila was quick to point out how horrible and awful it was for Marinette to leave them with all the work.

Alya couldn’t help but notice that only a few people showed up to the meeting. Noticeably absent was Chloe, Juleka, Sabrina, Max (who said Markov needed a reboot or something) and Ivan. Alya couldn’t help but be concerned by the absences. They needed their help to get all the planning ready and everything.

Rose was squealing at a thought of being able to decide on planning the theme of the dance. “Oooohhhh I can’t wait for the dance, do you think Marinette would still make me a dress?” Rose asked while glancing around. Sudden realization seems to hit them all. This year they will most likely have to pay and buy their own dresses and suits. Marinette always made them their outfits and that was part of the reason that they became the talk of the school after a dance. They always looked stunning.

“Rose Marinette wouldn’t dare not make you a dress, you’re one of the sweetest girls in the school if she refuses to make you one then she is Heartless” Lila stated fervently. Oh, Lila was making sure to get her claws completely in the class, she didn’t have an obstacle anymore.

“Lilas right, Marinette would always help you no matter how mad she is at you.” Adrien chimed in. All of a sudden their phones started pinging. Adrien quickly took out his and gaped at what he was reading in the class group chat.

Sabrina has left the Chat

Ivan has left the Chat

Juleka has left the Chat

Max has left the Chat.

Chloe B: Max, Sabrina, Ivan, Juleka and I have made the collective decision to transfer to Ms. Mendelievs Class, Our Transfers were approved quickly, thanks to yours truly :)

Chloe B: Have fun figuring out how to pay for everything Your end of the school year class trip :) :) :)

Chloe B: Oh Marinette is no Longer doing free commissions, have fun with dress and suit shopping :) :) :) :) :))))

Chloe B: Toodles~ you will all haunt my nightmares for years to come

Chloe B has left the chat

A/N:

Hi guys, I don’t know what happened but suddenly theirs more of you :D. Thanks for taking a chance on me. Hope y’all like today's chapter. I wanted to quickly post for my insomniacs. Please Like,Reblog, comment and Follow :)

Taglist:

@damianette-is-life @amayakans @parallelparabox @miukiiu @valeks-princess @toodaloo-kangaroo

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #maribat #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #lila salt

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durmstrange · 4 years

Text

Old Friend - Newt Scamander

Welcome to another newt blurb! I find him to be so adorable and simply the cutest thing to have ever existed so I hope I brought him glory in that sense.

Enjoy!

word count: 2,043

You had known Newt ever since the third day of your first year at Hogwarts. You both had an outrageous interest in magical beasts, despite the fact that it was moderately frowned upon in parts of the world, and you had bonded quickly over a book you had taken turns checking out of the library one time after another. Over time, you began to write notes to one another as you returned the book, only for the other to check it out the same exact day.

But, sadly, it had been years since you saw Newt. When he was expelled from Hogwarts years ago, you kept in contact through letters for years. You had even met up some summer holidays, spending as much time together as you could. Not long after you graduated Hogwarts, communication seemed to dwindle and before long, it stopped entirely.

Over time, you had mingled with others every so often, but it just never felt right to you. There was something missing, something you shamefully admitted to yourself. None of the people you dated was Newt.

Even after so many years, he was the one who had your heart and there was quite frankly no one else for you. You had come to terms with both this and the fact that he was no longer in your life, which meant you would inevitably die alone, but there was little you could do about it. You even wondered if Newt remembered you at all.

Much against your thoughts, Newt remembered you all too well. He remembered you every day, thinking about what you were doing in life and what you were on to, and when he saw you in the newspaper every so often when you released a new book, his heart lurched in his chest. You were so successful and so different now, but you were still his (Y/N). If he could even call you that. In all the time you had known him, he loved you with every fiber of his being, but given his anxious and reserved persona, he had kissed you once right before he was expelled and neither of you spoke of it again. You had the same fears as him. Why would either of you love each other?

On this day, you walked through your old stomping grounds, Diagon Alley, with a sullen look on your face. Your hands were folded in front of you and the sweater you wore hung on your body lazily, much reflecting your mood. Your eyes skimmed through the busy alley, as many people searched for things you couldn’t imagine. Finally, you hesitated outside of Flourish and Blotts, where your first book was sold, and you hesitated as you reached for the door. Finally, you pulled the door open and entered, a familiar feeling washing over you. You were home, it felt like, and you were having nostalgic feelings from Hogwarts so long ago.

Your hand skimmed along the shelf as you walked, heading towards the stairs, in search of nothing in particular. You knew you would leave here with a book, but you were just not sure what yet. As you arrive on the second floor, you wasted no time in scanning the binding of the books, pulling one every so often to read an excerpt.

You were far too concentrated on reading the books to pay attention to what was happening around you. In fact, you were quite oblivious, to be honest. You took book after book from the shelf, searching for the right one, until a voice tore you from your thoughts.

“I would not think you would have time to read,” a voice you recognized, but had changed so much since you last heard it, echoed through your bones. You swiveled on your heels, your eyes wide and incredulous.

Words were not able to come from your lips as you stared at your friend, who had changed so much. Slowly, you reached forward, wrapping your arms around Newt and laughing softly to yourself. He hugged you back so gently and a feeling you had missed for so long had returned. You felt like you were at home. “I never thought I would see you again,” you whispered to your friend as you pulled away, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling so widely. “My, you look great, Newt.” Your voice was happy but hesitant and pulled away from him fully, suddenly feeling so cold.

Newt blushed from your affection and words and chuckled gently. “I could say the same about you,” he murmured and admired you for a split second, taking in every thing he possibly could. A faint blush came upon your cheeks as well as you ducked your head slightly, looking at the book that remained in your hands. You hadn’t even read any bit of it yet, but you knew this was the one you were going to buy. It was fate that this one brought you to Newt. “I would love to catch up with you, if you have a moment. We can get some coffee, perhaps?” Newt’s voice was hopeful as you looked up once more, a twinkle in your eyes.

“That sounds lovely,” you agreed as the two of you walked down the stairs, chatting lightly, and you paid for your book before Newt held the door open for you and led you to a small restaurant down the street from Flourish and Blotts. He held the door open for you one more, allowing you to enter and take a table as he went to purchase coffee for the two of you.

As he faced away from you, you admired your long lost friend. He wore a trench coat in the deepest shade of blue, much like the color of your house in Hogwarts, and his clothes were slightly mismatched otherwise. He was the same Newt, only older. You could previously see the scarring on his hands when he held the door for you twice, and you knew he had not given up his meddling with his creatures. This brought you joy, for you were worried he would become discouraged once he grew older.

A few moments later, Newt returned carrying two cups of coffee, setting one down in front of you. You smiled in thanks to him, taking the warm ceramic into your hands. “Since when do you drink coffee, Newt?” You questioned him as you sipped yours, despite it still being far too hot for you.

Newt chuckled as he looked down at his, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Since I’ve grown older, my dear,” he told you and looked up to you once more, a foreign look on his face.

His words were so ambiguous, but you somehow knew exactly what he meant by them. You nodded gently. “What brings you around Diagon Alley, then?” You continued to ask as he stared at you intently, as if he were studying the look on your face.

He looked away once more, still fidgety as always, and pressed his lips together. “To be honest, I am not supposed to be here. I had a reserved a spot on a train to Germany, but something drew me here, instead. For good cause, it seems,” he explained carefully with an anxious look riddling his features. His eyes darted away from you.

You smiled to Newt, sipping your coffee, and setting it down in front of you. “I apologize that you missed your train. Was there someone to be accompanying you?” You questioned carefully, trying to get any hint as to whether or not he was in a relationship. There was not a ring on his ring finger, but there were rings on other fingers, in good fashion. You had to know if he had finally found someone, unlike you ever would.

Newt frowned lightly. He shook his head and looked at you carefully. “I have been traveling alone for quite sometime now. Well, not alone. I’ve had my creatures,” he added with the same twinkle in his eyes that he had when he was younger.

With a small laugh, you nodded. “Very well. It seems you haven’t changed a bit.” As you smiled widely to him, there was a thought in the back of your mind that hoped your time with Newt would never end. You had just found him again, and you were certain you were not ready to give him up.

A broad smile grew on his face. “Well, that is lovely to hear. I’d love to say the same about you, but I am unsure you are the same. You are not as cheery as I recall. Is there something bothering you?” Newt questioned in the fashion you remembered all too well, causing you to frown lightly. He knew you as well as he did years ago. He always knew your feelings far before you did.

“I don’t know,” you answered him quietly. Your eyes remained low, and you felt him staring at you. You felt a moment of weakness and glanced up to him, knowing the look on his face would cause you to tell the truth, and it did just that. “I’ve just missed you, Newt. Seeing you has been to lovely,” you admitted to him honestly, but not the whole thought in your head. You did not want to leave him at the end of this conversation.

Newt smiled, his hands resting on the table, and he looked down at them. They were scarred, some resembling cuts and some burns, and even the occasionally dip, meaning his was bitten and missing some of his flesh, and it was oddly alluring. You wanted to run your hands over it and memorize each bump and dip. Was the rest of his body equally as scarred? Newt was silent and you could tell he was mulling something over in his head, something big, it seemed, for he was silent for some time, which was quite unlike him when he was around you.

Finally, after you finished your coffee, Newt spoke softly. “Can I be honest for a moment?” Newt asked you in a voice that was moderately unrecognizable to you for a moment. You nodded, leaning forward to hear him clearer. Newt nodded as well and sighed. “In school, and for some time after I was expelled, I had the greatest feelings for you, (Y/N). Over the years as we lost communications, I had thought these feelings would fade, but they never did. They were simply put on hold. Seeing you now, they have resurfaced and I realize now, after spending the majority of my life so far searching for creatures, you are the creature I have been longing for,” Newt told you in the most un-Newt like way you could have expected.

At his words, your throat ran dry and you suddenly felt like you were going to explode from the inside. It did not take long for your words to fall from your lips, but as they did, you never were more sure of something in your life. “Can I be honest as well?” You asked Newt and just as you did, he nodded. “I will follow you wherever you go, if it means that I do not have to lose you again, Newt,” you said, causing a small blush and smile to form on his face that you missed so dearly.

The smile remained, but his words saddened you. “Despite the joy that would bring me, I cannot ask you to put your life on hold for me.” His voice was soft and sad, and your heart sank in your chest.

“In light of all our honesty, my life has been on hold since I lost you, Newt. Seeing you makes it feel like it has just started once more,” you disclosed to him and watched as the smile grew on his face. “Take me to Germany, Newt. Take me all over the world with you.” You watched as he thought for a moment.

After his moment of thinking, he stood, picking up his briefcase and holding a hand out to you. You looked up at him, confused. “What are you waiting for? We’ve got a train to Germany to catch.”

#newt scamander #newt scamander fanfic #newt scamander fanfiction #newt scamander imagine #newt scamander oneshot #newt scamander one shot #hogwarts #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Harry Potter fanfiction #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts fanfiction

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notbigondoors · 4 years

Text

Conflict and Consequence || closed with murder-popsicle

@murder-popsicle

Vision suddenly flinched, and the mind stone’s energy and glow flared sharply. Moving to sit more forward, he winced in pain and lifted his hand to touch his fingertips to the stone. He didn’t know how he knew, but it flooded his mind as clearly as he knew the headache he was feeling was not entirely his alone. Wherever Wanda is, she is in pain.

To say that he remained composed would have been a lie. Vision’s fists clenched and his lips formed a snarl. Rising from the chair, he sought out the man who had been reassuring him for days and days now that no harm would come to Wanda or any of the others arrested in that airport in Germany the day the Avengers turned on each other. The synthezoid found him predictably at the bar, still visibly bruised from his fight with Steve and Bucky, but that would garner no sympathy from Vision. Not anymore.

"Stark," Vision said loudly, approaching him.

"Hey, Junior!" Tony said condescendingly, pouring himself a drink.

"Where is she?" Vision asked, getting right to the point. "Where is Wanda? Where are the others?"

"Don't worry about it," Tony said dismissively, taking a sip.

"My worry festered into sharp and pointed concern and discontent ages ago. Answer the question,” Vision said with careful focus.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging and laying his hands on the bar.

"Do not test my patience,” Vision insisted.

"Are you... Did you just threaten me?" Tony asked, recoiling a bit in disbelief.

"I am indicating to you how serious I am, so that there will be no misunderstanding. No more lies,” Vision clarified.

"I'm sorry, when... did I ever lie to you?" Tony asked.

"You said she would not be harmed,” Vision replied.

"Look," Tony said with a sigh, "I didn't know any of this was going to happen, okay? And frankly, I don't like it any more than you do. But it’s out of our hands now."

"I have been inquiring for days, and you have been lying to me," Vision pressed, his even tone sounding rather ominous.

"Again, when... exactly... did I lie to you?"

"I felt her pain. Just now. Whether it is the mind stone's connection to her or her own magic reaching out to me, I do not know, but.. she is suffering. Now... what has been done to her? No lies."

"She's dangerous, Vision. Okay? They needed to ensure she wouldn't be able to hurt herself or anyone else,” Tony admitted.

"Tell me!" Vision said, raising his voice in a rare display of both concern and annoyance. His usually serene eyes showed a brief but explosive burst of golden-electric energy emanating out from their center pupils.

Tony heard the anger in Vision’s tone and it gave him pause. This had been enough to cause even the mild-mannered synthezoid to become emotionally effected. There was no way around this. He wasn’t going to let up and Tony knew he was stuck. "They had to make sure she couldn't use her abilities, so... they restrained her with... a straightjacket-like... brace... and a high-frequency-emitting collar... and... tranqs." He mumbled the last word, hoping to slip it by unnoticed.

"Tranqs," Vision repeated, focusing the most on that.

"Yes," Tony confirmed with a nod.

"Tranquilizers," Vision said, just for absolute clarification purposes.

"Yes," Tony repeated with the exact same nod.

"Where is she? Where are the others?" he asked angrily.

"I don't know. I don’t. That wasn't a lie. Steve busted everyone out days ago and they’re gone. They went off the grid. If they don't wanna be found, they won't be. Best to just leave it alone," Tony said, wishing the synthezoid would just drop it.

"Busted... everyone out... from where?" Vision asked carefully, his eyes narrowing.

Tony sighed again and slumped against the bar a little as he answered, knowing Vision wouldn't let it go. "The Raft. It's a maximum security prison off the New York coast meant for those... in need of... special accommodations." That was the nicest way he could have put that. Not that his careful wording did anything to keep the synthezoid from reacting negatively to it.

"After all that Wanda has been through at the hands of Hydra and the distrust it has sown in her, you authorized her to be drugged and forcibly restrained without legal counsel or fair trial in a maximum security facility?" Vision said bluntly.

"Come on, no I didn't,” Tony said, his guilt starting to get to him. “You think I was consulted on this? You think I did this?"

"Yes. I do," Vision said almost sadly. “I do now.”

"Well, I wasn't. I didn’t. You think I wanted them to send that poor traumatized kid to a heartless, sterile place guarded by specially-trained tactical military meant for psychopaths and serial killers?!" He stared for a moment, an oops expression coming over his face instantly. "Probably should’na said all that..."

Vision turned and walked away. He had heard enough.

"Where’re you goin'?" Tony called after him.

"To locate Wanda," he said with solid determination, stopping and turning so he could be sure to make eye contact. "And when I locate her, I will not be informing you of her location." With that he turned again and left.

Tony waited until he was out of earshot, taking a big gulp of his drink. "That's what trackers are for, Junior," he muttered under his breath. He was so confident in that, that he didn’t even jump up right away to try to track Vision the moment he left the compound. That would prove to be a mistake...

Once outside the facility, Vision disabled his internal trackers, already one step ahead of Tony. He needed time and privacy to form his own opinions, and he was not going to get that being tailed by the tech giant. He had trusted Tony to give him truthful and up-to-date information and he had been deceived. That stung Vision, if he was being honest with himself, especially since Wanda’s well-being had obviously been affected by decisions made without the rest of the team being consulted. This was not what had been outlined in the Accords, not what was right or just or even legal, not what Secretary Ross or Tony Stark had promised him would happen. Vision was angry, sad, worried, confused, and betrayed enough to want to be on his own right now. He would seek out the truth on his own and see it with his own eyes instead of trust an obviously unreliable filter of other human minds to do so for him.

For some time now, Vision had been working idly on changing his appearance for the purpose of camouflaging himself when out on missions. Realizing that this was now something of the utmost urgency and importance that he would need if he was going to go after Wanda, he worked even harder at it. If she and the others had gone off the grid as Tony stated, then they would not appreciate Vision’s conspicuous and highly recognizable self showing up at their doorstep, wherever they might be. Thus he took some time to perfect this shift in appearance as best he could, much in the same way he changed his density to either phase through walls or harden himself against attack. To accomplish that, he changed the arrangement of the atoms in his organic cells and their vibranium sheathes to achieve a more dense or more diffuse effect. The concept for his human disguise was similar and yet even more elaborate than that...

Vision not only altered the density of the atoms in the outer layers of his body, he also increased the ratio of organic tissue to vibranium, giving the outer layers the look and feel of either cloth or flesh. By altering the instance of other trace elements in his tissue he was able to alter color. So the flesh would look and feel like flesh, the sweater like a sweater, etc. Well, he had already mastered clothing in that regard. He didn’t wear real clothing, it was all part of his body, made in the image and feel of real human clothing. He now made human skin and hair in the same manner. The atoms that presented themselves first to the human eye or held up to the scrutiny of touch were a smokescreen for the rest of his body, hiding his true appearance. That combined with an imaging overlay of his entire body, a neuroelectronic grid of chameleon-like cells activated by power drawn from the mind stone, he was able to achieve a very realistic illusory and sensory effect.

Now... what he chose to look like had a lot to do with personal preference. His natural skin was dark colored, so for something different he chose a pale skin tone. For eye color, he chose the rarest among humans, blue. Perhaps that would help him keep some of his uniqueness, he reasoned. He didn’t have any hair naturally, so he chose to give himself some, and he liked the way blonde hair looked with blue eyes and pale skin. The result was something that looked decidedly human, but very far from his own natural appearance.

Once he was satisfied that he could move about in public and pass well enough for a human being, Vision searched for Wanda. It took him almost a day’s worth of flying, but he let the mind stone draw him to where Wanda’s energy was lingering. It was the same sort of gentle pull towards her that he felt that day in Sokovia, when she’d made the decision to die with her brother and Vision intervened. He didn’t know what emotional state he would find Wanda in this time, but as he honed in on an apartment building in Scotland, he was sure that she was there. Rather than just phase through the wall and look for himself, causing a stir and potentially alarming those inside who might at first misunderstand why he was here, Vision pressed the call button near the door. The voice that came through was a familiar one, saying that they were uninterested in anything anyone was selling and did not want visitors...

“Captain Rogers,” Vision said simply, calmly. Respectfully, too, since he imagined Steve was no longer captain of anything at this point, and yet Vision still honored his former title. “May I please have a word?” Only that, and then he backed up a few paces from the door and patiently waited. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew Steve would recognize his voice, since he had been the first to comment on it immediately following Vision’s birth. He hoped for a peaceful encounter, and truly he was not there to hurt anyone, but he imagined that tensions and fears might cause some of those who might be inside the building to resent that he was there. Nevertheless, Vision assumed the best until the worst presented itself...

#murder-popsicle #vision rp #guest muse: tony stark #{feel free to bypass Steve or do whatever you want}#{i just figured he'd be the one to answer first heh}

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imma-fucking-nerd · 4 years

Text

Deadly Daisies

(Connor x Reader)

A/N: this is gunna be the first oneshot featuring my oc Carol! Hope y'all like her and don't mind if I add her as a supporting character in future fics.

——————————————

It was an ordinary day at the prescinct, just you minding your own business filling out reports and such. Everything was calm, and okay. You could almost pretend nothing was wrong. As long as you kept calm and short breaths everything was fine and you would be able to focus on getting your work done. The last thing you needed was Fowler on your ass.

Your eyes were glued to the screen and you had your headphones on, blasting whatever music you were in the mood for. It helped block out the rest of the world and the problems it held. But sadly you would be ripped from your serene place when a tap at your should made you flinch. You whipped your head around and took off your headphones, eyes wide.

"I apologize (Y/n), I didn't mean to startle you."

You immediately relaxed in your chair when you recognized your favorite android, Connor. A nervous chuckle escaped you and you cleared your throat.

"It's okay, Connor. I was just in the zone and wasn't expecting it," you reassured him with a warm smile.

He returned the smile as best he could, which turned out to be very awkward and very adorable. It was hard to ignore the ever growing burning sensation in your lungs. Your (e/c) eyes returned to the screen, but you weren't retaining any of the information you were looking at. Not looking at him made it easier to hold back from letting a cough slip.

"So, whaddya need?" you asked him, your eyes flicking back to him for a split second.

"I brought you this," Connor set down a styrofoam cup of coffee onto your desk next to your hand.

You smiled as you saw the little cup be placed and you looked back up to him, "that's very sweet, thank you Connor."

It wasn't unusual for Connor to bring you coffee or little snacks without you even asking him. Yet each time it made your cheeks become a shade darker and the feeling of fluttering butterflies erupting in your stomach. But it wasn't long until those warm feelings were overshadowed by the overwhelming urge to cough. Your lings begging for you to be allowed to release the foreign object.

It soon became too much and you had to cough into your arm. Luckily, this time there was no residues left on your sweater. You doubted you'd be so lucky next time. In your peripherals you noticed Connor tilt his head curiously at you. You knew better than to hope he wouldn't think anything of it.

"(Y/n), is everything alright?" his LED shifted to amber and you tensed, hoping to whatever god there was he wasn't about to scan you.

You opened your mouth to assure him you were fine but before you could get a word out you were interrupted by a feminine voice.

"My apologies (Y/n), but may I borrow Connor for a moment? I'm in need of a second opinion on a case I'm working on," Carol, the RK700 spoke with a polite smile.

"Sure, I should get back to work anyways," you replied, returning a half smile to her.

Carol was new to the prescinct despite being an older model in the RK series to both Conan and Connor. A 'gift' from Elijah Kamski, as he put it. You didn't know much about her, but she was nice enough. She reminded you of Connor with her big, curious chocolatey brown doe eyes. Even her hair color was the same deep coffee brown. Although her hairstyle quite differed. She had straight bangs that were cut just above her brow, and the rest of her hair was cut just below her jaw. Not a hair out of place. In other words, she was just as perfect as the rest of her siblings.

There was nothing inherently wrong with her, aside from the fact her and Connor were practically inseparable. Yes, you were aware they worked best when combining their specializations. But it was like they were made for each other. Like no matter what you did you'd never amount to her. It made it harder to breath though about how Connor must have liked her better.

As if on cue, your body was wracked with a coughing fit. It felt like your lungs were being constricted. You covered your mouth and tried desperately to stop yourself from coughing any more. The sudden burst of coughs gained yourself attention you didn't want. Especially from Connor and Carol. Their eyes on you made you stand from your chair abruptly, nearly knocking it over in the process. Carol flinched at the sudden movement and Connor's eyes widened slightly.

"(Y/n) are you alright?-" Connor went to take a step towards you but you hastily rushed passed him and to the bathroom.

The two androids shared a puzzled glance to each other, their LED's flickering yellow as they tried to figure out what just happened.

Once you entered the bathroom you hunched over the sink. You heaved and coughed as you felt your body trying to regurgitate something from your lungs. With each couch and heave you felt the object craw up your windpipe. After a few final coughs you managed to hack out whatever it was suffocating you.

Looking down into the sink your glossy, tear-brimmed (e/c) eyes landed on a white daisy, speckled and stained with blood. You stared at the little flower in horror, trying to blink away the tears before they fell. Your breathing was heavy as your lungs attempted to steady it's intake of oxygen. With a shaky hand you reached out and plucked the daisy from the sink.

Daisies. A sign a innocence and purity. Traits that aligned with the cause of the disease that now plagued you. The android that caused it. The person.

You were the victim of a very rare disease. Hanahaki disease. A disease in which flowers bloom and grow within a victims lungs. Specifically victims experiencing unrequited love. In other words, it occurred the moment you realized you were in love with Connor, and when you realized he would never feel the same.

However, this time was first time you had hacked up a full flower. You've only ever came across petals. The blood on the other hand, that was nothing new. It was actually the first symptom you were faced with. Or at least the first one that made you worried. The real first symptom that occurred was the shortness of breath whenever you though about Connor.

Sighing, you shoved the flower in your pocket before turning on the sink to wash away the remaining blood. After turning off the sink you looked up to meet your own eyes. You were paler than usual, and you had a little blood staining your lips.

You heard the door to the bathroom suddenly open and you quickly wiped your mouth, grateful the red liquid wouldn't be visible on your black sweater. The clicking of heels echoed through the bathroom but you kept your eyes glued down into the sink.

"(Y/n)? Are you alright?"

Sighing, you glanced up at the mirror to meet Carol's curious eyes staring at you, her head tilted slightly to the side. It reminded you of Connor. And just like that it suddenly felt harder to breathe. Your eyes flicked back down to the sink.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Think I'm just coming down with a cold or something," you said softly, cursing at yourself for how hoarse your voice sounded.

Carol moved to stand beside you, tilting her head slightly to get a better look at you. Her brows knit together and her LED shifted from the stagnant blue to a blinking amber. From the corner of your eye you saw her reach into the sink before bringing it up to her mouth. Your body tensed and you hoped that she didn't just do what you thought she did.

"Then may I ask why there are traces of your blood in the sink?"

The question made your already tense body become even more rigid. You griped the edged of the sink until your knuckles turned white. A deafening silence filled the bathroom as you refused to answer the question. How could you even begin to answer that?

Before you could have the chance to explain yourself, you glanced up to see Carol's face in the mirror once more. Her LED was blinking amber rapidly and her expression was one of confusion. Suddenly, you see her eyes widen and her features soften. When she shifted her gaze to meet yours, you swore you saw a hint of sadness.

"Were you aware of the disease that resides in your lungs?" Her voice was low and soft.

It almost sounded genuine, like she actually cared. You knew she was deviant, but even so why would she care?

You only gave a short nod in response, lowering your head to avoid her gaze.

"How long?" she asked, the same softness to her voice.

"A few weeks maybe. I'm not too sure," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carol's brows knit together at that piece of information. From what she knows, the disease will most likely become life threatening within another few weeks if left untreated. She also found out what the cause of it was. Silence once again fell between the two of you and you wondered what she was thinking about. It took longer this time before Carol was once again the one to break the silence.

"It's Connor, isn't it?" it was more of a confirmation of what she had put together rather than an actual question.

Another nod was your only answer.

"Why haven't you gotten the surgery yet? Are you unable to afford it financially?" she queried, tilting her head curiously.

"No, no.... That's not an option," you answered, you yourself not even knowing the real answer.

The surgery was the first thing you looked into once you found out what was wrong with you. But when you found out the cost, and not of the actual surgery, you couldn't go through with it. Despite how much pain you were in, you hated the idea of feeling nothing at all. For some reason that was beyond you, you still held some hope.

"Is there a particular reason why?"

You shook your head, "I just.... I just can't."

You could feel your throat tightening and your eyes stung as tears formed. The last thing you wanted was for Connor to know. Yes, like Carol, he was deviant but that didn't mean he would cure you. It was strange how you were so sure of that, and yet you still had hope. If only subconsciously.

A soft sigh could be heard from the android by your side and you suddenly felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"If you aren't willing to undergo the surgery, you'll die," she said it as though you didn't already know.

"Yeah, I'm aware," you turned your head to face her for the first time she came in as you spoke.

Her eyes widened and the corners of her lips tugged down into a small frown. You could see the confusion in her eyes, but you didn't expect her to understand.

"Then I suggest you tell him," she proposed.

Now it was your eyes that widened, "N-No! I can't do that either. And you can't tell him either!"

You turned your whole body to face her and grabbed her by the shoulders. The sudden action made her flinch slightly.

"Please- Please, don't tell him!" you begged, tears brimming your eyes.

Carol's expression looked as if she were torn. Her LED flickered wildly as she tried to decide what was the best option.

"Why are you so opposed to the idea (Y/n)?" she asked, hoping to gather more information to help.

Your eyes dropped down to the floor and your grip on her shoulders loosened. The tears that had built up finally falling down your face.

"Because it won't make a difference," you choked out.

"And what brought you to that conclusion?" her head tilted as she tried to figure out your reasoning.

The question made you let go of her completely and turn your back to her. You wrapped your arms around yourself and squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears.

"You."

It was a simple answer. One which only made Carol more confused. What did she have anything to do with it? Had she done something wrong? She was just about to ask you to elaborate when suddenly it clicked. The realization made her blink a couple of times, not quite sure if she was even correct. Because she knew for a fact that if she was right in her hypothesis, she knew it meant you were dead wrong.

"Forgive me but," she paused for a moment and moved around you to face you before continuing, "Could it be that you think that Connor and I and romantically involved?"

She was met with nothing but silence in return, but that was answer enough for the android. Gently, she grabbed your arm and turned you back around to face her. She rested her ands on both your shoulders and tilted her head to catch your gaze.

"(Y/n), I can assure you that is not the case. Connor is my family, there is nothing romantic between us and there never will be," she offered you a reassuring smile.

Her words must have been enough to convince you because you hesitantly nodded.

"O-Okay..." your voice came out small, barely audible but Carol heard you perfectly.

Her smile widened and she let go of you, straightening her posture.

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be getting back to work," she said, giving a curt nod before heading back to the door.

She reached out and took the handle but didn't open the door yet, turning her head to look at you over your shoulder, "I'll let Connor know you're alright. He was the one who asked me to check on you after all. But I really do advise you tell him. If you don't, I will have to on your behalf."

With that, she opened the bathroom door and swiftly made her exit. You stared at the door with mixed feelings that were on opposite sides of whatever spectrum. The most prominent emotion you were experiencing was fear. Fear that you would have to come clean to Connor, fear that you wouldn't be able to ignore this problem because if you did Carol would tell him. You didn't blame her really, but that didn't mean you had to like what she was forcing you into.

Then, there was the confusing part. The part that made that hope you clung to so desperately feel validated. She said he was the one who sent her in here after you. Was he worried about you? Did he care about you? Could that mean he might have been able to love you?

You didn't take any more time to think about it before you figured you should get back to work as well. Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, making sure all evidence of your little incident was gone. You stuffed your hands in your pockets as you made your way to the door but stopped in your tracks when you felt the soft petals of a daisy. After a brief pause you exited the bathroom, your fingers fiddling with the flower.

As you made your way back to your desk you saw Carol speaking with Connor. Connor was the first to spot you and you offered him a tiny smile, but when you saw Carol's expectant expression it dropped. Your eyes dropped to the floor and you sighed heavily before changing your course to where the androids were standing. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

As you approached the two you nervously thumbed over the daisy that stayed hidden in your pocket.

"Hello (Y/n), how are you?" Connor greeted.

"I uh, I'm alright," there was a slight pause where you glanced over to Carol, she gave you a little nod and an encouraging smile and you continued, "I actually wanted to talk to you about something. If you aren't busy."

Your eyes flicked everywhere except for his face, your words were rushed and low. This behaviour made Connor's head tilt in curiosity and a bit of worry. He looked over his shoulder to Carol, who spoke up.

"Don't worry I'll handle the reports."

"I would appreciate that, thank you Carol," he said to as she left to go sit at her desk.

Connor's eyes then went back to you, "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Can we um- Can we go somewhere more private?" you asked, looking up at him shyly.

"Of course," Connor agreed without a second thought.

He gestured for you to follow him as he lead the way down the hall. He led you to a free interrogation room, peeling back his artificial skin to open the door. Like the gentleman he was, he gestured for you to enter first. You couldn't help but see the irony of being in the interrogation room, seeing as you were about to do some confessing. Once the door was closed Connor turned to give you his undivided attention.

"Is everything alright, (Y/n)?" he took a step towards you, his voice laced with worry.

"Yeah I-" you started automatically and you had to stop yourself mid sentence with a sigh.

"No, not really. That's.... That's what I wanted to talk to you about..." you trailed off, not exactly sure how to go about this.

You wished you had more time to think about what to say before you were put into this position. Then again, you weren't sure anything you thought of would have felt good enough.

"What's wrong?" Connor immediately asked, fully prepared to do everything in his power to fix whatever the problem was.

It was a mistake to glance up and meet his soft, worry stricken. Because without warning, you were being attacked by another violent fit of coughs. Connor's eyes widened in suprise and his LED shifted to amber. He rushed to your side and placed his hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of helping.

When the coughing finally seemed to cease you felt Connor lightly take your chin in his other hand and tilt your head up to him. He noticed the blood on your lips immediately, and he didn't need to do any sampling to know that wasn't a good sign. The detective android wasted no more time scanning you, determined to figure out what was wrong.

Your eyes dropped to the floor and you felt your throat tightening again. Tears burned your eyes from the mixture of the emotional and physical pain. You needed a moment before you would tell him what was going on. But when you finally met his eyes again you saw a look of realization wash over his perfect features you got the idea he figured it out himself.

"You have Hanahaki disease."

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and held an air of disbelief. You nodded, confirming that what he found out was true. He didn't need to ask to know it was him who was the cause. Hank told him about your not so subtle crush constantly but he just didn't believe it. Connor never thought you'd like an android, let alone him.

Suddenly, Connor pulled you into his chest. He snaked an arm around your waist and rested his hand at the small of your back, while his other hand cupped the back of your head. Hesitantly, you brought your hands up to grip his jacket.

"I'm so sorry (Y/n). This is all my fault," he whispered guiltily, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You shook your head slightly, taking in a shaky breath, "Don't worry about it, I-I get it..."

"No, you dont," he cut you off, his lips tugging down into a frown.

You tilted your head slightly to look at him quizzically with an eyebrow raised. You were about to ask him what he meant when he moved his hand from your head and cupped your cheek. Heat started to rise up into your cheeks and you swallowed thickly, watching him with wide eyes.

"This should never have happened," he said quietly, seemingly to himself.

"C-Connor?" you breathed out his name.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and your stomach felt like it was doing flips. The strange thing was that your lungs didn't seem to burn or feel like they were being constricted. But you were too distracted with Connor leaning down to press his forehead to yours, your noses brushing against each other.

"I wish you would have told me sooner. I could have helped you sooner," his voice was apologetic and the regret in his eyes damn near broken your heart.

When your expression remained confused about what he was getting at, Connor let out an unnecessary sigh.

"I love you, (Y/n). I'm sorry it took me so long to realize, and I'm sorry you had to suffer because of it," he confessed.

At those three little words you waited oh so long to hear, your eyes widened even more. And when Connor leaned down to press his lips to yours your breath hitched. You immediately melted into the kiss, letting your eyes flutter closed. Your hands gripped his jacket tighter, scared that if you let go he'd disappear.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but that was all you needed. When Connor leaned back from you ever so slightly you took a deep breath. The first breath you took in months that didn't hurt, or give you the urge to cough at all. Tears of happiness and overall emotional exhaustion spilled from your eyes and you buried your face in his chest.

You could finally breathe. You were cured. No longer would you have to go on pretending you weren't being torn from the inside out. You could finally look at Connor without any fear. More importantly, your hope of Connor loving you back had been rewarded.

You would be glad if you never saw another daisy for the rest of your days.

————————————————

A/N: man i feel like the end sucks rip. Anyways I always loved the concept of hanahaki disease tbh.

#dbh #detroit #detroit become human #detroit rk800 #connor rk800 #connor x reader #dbh x reader #rk800 #dbh oc #detroit become human oc #connor rk800 x reader

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bangtan-gal · 5 years

Text

Stray Kids Reaction to First Kiss

Requested hihihi! i don’t know if your requests are open, but if they are or when they are, can I request a reaction to first kiss with stray kids? thank you!

Bang Chan

Your laugh was loud and probably extremely obnoxious to the people around you, but you didn’t care. Chan smiled at you and shook his head.

“It’s really not that funny,” he whined, leaning against you and burying his face in your shoulder. You raised your eyebrow.

“You ran into a pole because you got distracted by a bird,” you squeaked out and the sentence only made you start laughing again.

“Y/N!”

You smirked at him. “Ahhh, are you embarrassed?”

Your faces were inches apart as you stared down at him. His eyebrows raised as the two of you continued to have a stare-off. Then Chan quickly pressed his lips to you and pulled back with a soft laugh at your expression. That was the first time he ever kissed you.

“What?” He teased, “are you embarrassed?”

Kim Woojin

Woojin’s hand was warm in yours as the two of you raced through the rain. It was freezing cold and soaked into your clothes. Water collected in your hair and streamed down your face. Your whole body was freezing and you desperately wanted to be indoors, curled under a million blankets. The two of you slid last second onto the late bus and relief-filled laughter filled the air between you.

Woojin wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. Water droplets hung from his hair and clung to his eyelashes. This close, he looked gorgeous. Your lips curled upwards, thinking of one specific thing that could possibly warm you up. The two of you had almost dated for a month and so far you’d only held hands. Woojin was scared of rushing you and ruining things.

“Hey, Woojin?” “Hmmm?”

You grinned. “Can you kiss me already?”

So he did and it definitely warmed you up.

Lee Minho

“Wait so you’re scared of goats?” Minho asked, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at you. You huffed, playing with the ends of your sweater.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” You pouted, crossing your arms. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

“But look at how cute they are!”

You couldn’t argue that the goats weren’t cute, it was just nervewracking to be standing this close to them. As a child, you’d gotten stuck in a pen with goats and they’d ended up eating your hair. It had scarred you for the rest of your life. It didn’t matter that they were on the other side of the fence and you were now a couple feet taller, they were still monsters.

“Holy shit, you’re shaking,” Minho murmured.

“Y-yeah, no shit Sherlock,” you squeaked out. He pulled you tighter against you, hugging you tightly. You glanced at him and you momentarily forgot about the demons two feet away from you when you saw just how close he was to you. Your gaze flickered to his lips and then back up to his face, a nervous smile breaking out on your lips.

You felt stupid standing there with hundreds of people milling about, both of your gazes fixed on each other’s lips. It forced you to lean forward and quickly press your lips to his before pulling back with a squeaky giggle. Minho grinned and kissed you again, managing to pull you even closer.

Seo Changbin

Honestly, you hadn’t wanted your first kiss with Changbin to be when you were crying because you dropped your ice cream cone but that seemed to be how it played out.

You weren’t a five-year-old, just more of an unstable young adult. Changbin had promised you an ice cream date and you’d been looking forward to it. Now your ice cream sat in a quickly melting puddle at your feet and you were already ugly crying.

“Hey.” You could tell he was trying really hard to not laugh. “It’s gonna be okay, you can have mine.”

“B-bu--”

That was when he kissed you, hard and quick before he pulled back with a snort. You forgot what you were complaining about and instead just stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

“No need to whine, Y/N,” he sighed, handing you his and then dragging you away from your ice cream puddle.

Hwang Hyunjin

You weren’t even ashamed to admit you were screaming your ass off the second the roller coaster started. Your chin was uncomfortably tucked against your chest and your eyes were pinched shut. You had never been so relieved in your life as when the roller coaster stopped and you stumbled off.

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Hyunjin laughed, fingers intertwining with yours as he dragged you through the amusement park.

“It was like I went to fucking hell and came back,” you grumbled, leaning against him.

“That was literally a ride for five-year-olds though?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Your cheeks burned and you tried to pretend that you didn’t see the wave of kindergarteners that ran past you. Hyunjin shook his head and laughed again.

“I think I’m gonna die,” you huffed. As you continued to fall against him, the boy gave up on dragging you onto another ride and instead picked you up bridal style. You didn’t complain as you dramatically lay limp in his arms.

“Anything I can do to help, princess?” He snorted.

“Fo~oood,” you mumbled. You just had lunch but food always solved your problems. Hyunjin gave you a dead stare and you rolled your eyes. “I mean... I guess a kiss could suffice.”

Even you were surprised by your bold antics. You and Hyunjin weren’t technically dating, you were just friends going on dates to see if you liked each other. You opened your mouth, ready to take back what you said, but Hyunjin beat you to it. His lips were soft and he tasted like cotton candy. When he pulled back his cheeks were bright red and you were sure yours looked very similar.

“Now can we go on the Ferris Wheel?”

Han Jisung

It was late as Jisung pushed you back and forth on the swing. Your hands clutched the cold metal links, eyes focused on the ground swaying below you. You felt stupid every time Jisung’s hands pressed against your back to push you forward. He said it would make you feel better, but it only filled you with a bitter nostalgia.

“I miss you a lot,” you whispered. Jisung sighed, moving away from behind you. He moved into your line of vision, settling in the swing beside you.

“I miss you too,” he murmured. You stared at him, biting your lip sadly. The blue that was once in his hair—the color you’d picked out for him and helped him dye—was now mostly faded to black. It was longer than before and now overshadowed his eyes.

He’d moved away a year ago and your world had crumbled afterwards. School became harder and life became lonelier. Jisung had changed so much, with new contacts in his phone, new prioritiess, and a new girlfriend. That was the part that hurt the most.

“You won’t be able to come back for a while after this?” You asked.

“Probably not for another year... who knows—.”

“You might never come back,” you muttered. Jisung stared at you and then bit his lip.

“Yeah.” He stood up and hugged you. Your head fell against his chest and you let your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t cry.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but you did. You knew that it was cruel to him and yet the tears kept coming. He had to leave in the morning and who knew when you’d see him next. You stood up, pulling your head back so you could meet his eyes.

“I love you,” you said softly.

“I love you y/n,” he said with a bitter smile. Then you told yourself that you only live once and kissed him quickly. You stepped out of his grasp and then backed away.

“Goodbye Jisung.”

Lee Felix

The coffee was a warm contrast to the snow twirling outside your window. Felix sat beside you, earbuds in and eyes closed. You couldn’t stop the smile that came to your face as you watched him.

You looked away, shaking your head and chuckling. “Always tired.”

He cracked one eye open and then closed it again.

“I have reason to be,” he mumbled. You smiled and cuddled into him. Felix wrapped his arm around your shoulder and sighed. You let your eyes close as you focused on the sound of his beating heart and you didn’t notice his gaze trained on you.

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I kinda wanna kiss you,” he whispered. You raised your head, staring at him.

“Only kinda?”

He blushed. “I really want to.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning towards him. Felix’s cheeks were bright red as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. You giggled as his indecision continued and then he smiled nervously.

His lips were softer than you anticipated and his movements were gentle. One hand cupped your cheek and the other held the back of your head. Felix pulled back, leaving barely centimeters between you. He grinned and a breathy laugh escaped him.

“That only made me want to kiss you more.”

Felix’s teeth are brighter than my future...

Kim Seungmin

Puppies. A whole room full of fluffy, squirmy, and adorable puppies ran around you. You didn’t even have to turn around to see Seungmin’s big smile. His hands still hovered by your eyes.

“This is...” you started giggling slightly, “an oddly satisfying birthday present.”

One little black fluff ball ran towards you, it’s tail wagging vigorously as it sat at your feet. You smiled at it, scooping it up. Seungmin came to stand beside you, his eyes focused on your face.

“You like it?” He murmured.

The puppy kissed you and you laughed.

“Yeah. I fucking love it.” You confirmed. You tore your gaze away from the puppy and grinned at Seungmin. “Thank you.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Really,” you said, laughing at his expression.

Yang Jeongin

“It’s gonna rain.”

You glanced up at the sky and let out a sigh. Jeongin was right; dark clouds were slowly collecting over the sun. You pulled your jacket tighter around you and ducked your head.

“I wanna go home,” you huffed. Jeongin rolled his eyes at you, pinching your forearm.

“You’re the one who dragged me out here. We’re not just gonna leave,” he muttered, “look, we’re almost there.”

You actually weren’t. You were nowhere near the front of the line and you were sure by the time you got there, it would be pouring. All you had wanted to was go to the meet n greet and at least get in two feet of your idol and breathe the same air for just a solid second. Instead, you were freezing your ass off and it was about to start pouring.

“Please, you wanted to meet him just as much as me,” you muttered.

“No, I just drag myself around for you because I—.”

Jeongin cut himself off and glanced at you. Your stare was skeptical and he huffed. He pulled off his hoodie and handed it to you.

“We’re gonna see the love of your life and maybe you can get a kiss from that weirdo,” he grumbled.

You snorted. “What, are you jealous?”

He didn’t respond. You laughed, leaning against him.

“You are!”

His cheeks turned red and he frowned at you.

“You so are!” You laughed.

“Shut up.”

Jeongin looked away, tucking his hands into his sweatpants. You tried to muffle your laughter but it was impossible. You slapped his shoulder.

“You’re by boyfriend, not him,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “no need to be a little bitch about it.”

He glanced at you. “Then how come I haven’t gotten a kiss yet?”

You threw your arms around his neck, over dramatically leaning towards him. You pressed your lips to his and smiled against him. When you pulled back, Jeongin was staring at you in wide eyes.

“I wanted you to initiate it idiot, but you never did so I just figured...”

“I thought you didn’t want to!” He exclaimed.

You smacked his chest. “Don’t blame me for this!”

“But it’s not my fault either!”

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 4 years

Text

Flash Forward: Other bits

Lila

Lila was sitting in a white room dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans. She was eating a meal and looked bored as she did so. Once she was done she looked up.

“If you are finished mask on,” a voice said through the walls.

“You can trust me. I won’t do anything!” Lila replied, sounding charming. “Miss Rossi you do not have permission to leave your room without a mask. Mask on.” Lila stared at the ceiling before a look of utter rage passed over her face, startling the watchers. She grabbed something sitting next to her and put it on, tying it behind her head. It was a half mask, with slits in the front. Putting it on, a click was heard and she growled, the mask showing it also had a voice program as it came out distorted and computerized. “Thank you.”

Waking out of the room when the door opened, Lila carried her plate and utensils, heading to a window in a wall she put them through. Around her others dressed like her were walking around. Only a bare few had masks though.

“Rossi,” one said, walking by.

“Smith.” She responded, heading through the room and out a door, to where a fenced-in outdoor area was. Lila sat on a bench and just watched people before someone walked up to her. It was Chloé, wearing similar clothes but with gloves.

“I thought you were avoiding me,” Lila said.

“I was.” Chloé said simply. “But I have news.”

“Oh? The Justice League realize they made a mistake and are letting me go?” Lila mocked. “Please. You knew your magic had people listening to you and believing you no matter what you said. You willingly used your magic on others and turned out to be working with a magical terrorist since you were fourteen until eighteen. The one time they let you go unmasked here you used your magic to spark a riot.” Chloé snorted. “You deserve to be here like I did.”

“Did?” Lila asked.

“I’m leaving next week. Parole.” Chloé told the girl and Lila snared, the sound menacing in her mask.

“You sided with him just like me! Hell you willingly let him cast magic on you- that’s why you have those damn gloves!” Lila said.

“I know. I was a petty and jealous brat who wanted to be special. I was so mad I would never get the Bee Miraculous back, I was so mad Ladybug didn’t like me. So I foolishly didn’t think of anyone but myself and sides with him.” Chloé told her. “It took me nearly killing my dad just by hugging him to realize what I did. Lila, how do you feel knowing your mother is sick to her stomach when she sees you because of how much magic you used on her?”

“It wasn’t that much.” Lila snapped and Chloe shook her head.

“Your mother can’t be in the same room with you without going into shock.”

“Your mother-“

“Is in jail for insider trading and child abuse,” Chloé said coldly. “And good riddance. But this didn’t about that. This is about me and you.”

“What could you possibly want with me? You hate me.”

“I do. But sadly you’re my only friend here.” Chloé said. “And we’re similar. We both fucked up. Difference is I realized it and am trying. I’m getting out. I’ll never not be able to not wear gloves. My touch with either kill or paralyze anyone. That’s fine- I got offered skin right and skin coloured gloves I’ll be wearing. I get to change my name and appearance and integrate back into society as long as I keep in contact with Canary. That’s great.”

“And you think I can too?” Lila sneered. “I can’t turn off my magic.”

“You can control it you just don’t want to. You’re damn lucky they gave you a mask instead of casting a spell to permanently silence you and you know it.” Chloe told Lila who glared at her in answer. “Lila don’t let the mistakes you made as a teenager affect you now.” Lila didn’t answer as Chloe stood and left her alone in the yard.

Alya

Alia was sitting in a cubicle, working on something. She looked different with her hair in a short bob and wearing a set of business casual clothing. She looked fairly focused as she was typing, only stopping when someone stuck their head into the cubicle.

“Hey, someone’s waiting for you in meeting room B.”

“Thanks,” Alta said, standing up and heading to the room. She looked puzzled as she entered it before a smile crossed her face. “Rose!:

“Alta!” Rose looked older, with her hair longer then it was currently, and her outfit a white sweater and jeans. “It’s good to see you! Sorry about dropping in on you at work…”

“It’s fine. I don’t have any cool stories right now- mostly the normal stuff and that’s pretty easy to write.” Alya told her. “Why are you here?”

“Juleka and I are getting married!” Alya squealed and threw her arms around Rose who laughed and hugged back.

“God! You guys beat the odds! I’m so happy for you!” She pulled away with a smile.

“Thanks! We wanted a reporter covering it- famous model marrying a charity worker so we thought of you!” Alya squealed again and hugged Rose again who laughed. “But uhh…”

“If it’s about Nino it’s fine. It’s been years- we broke up and we can be civil.” Alya said in amusement. Rose winced. Alya frowned at her.

“It’s Marinette.” Alya frowned at Rose.

“Me and Marinette are cool too.”

“You guys stopped being friends so suddenly-“ Rose began but Alya lifted a hand.

“No. We stopped being friends earlier then we thought. Neither of us realized it though until after Lila’s bullshit. It took her telling me to my face she was over Adrien and her realizing I hadn’t talked to her about anything not about the blog for us both to admit we’d stopped being friends. It was new kid friend syndrome. We were buddies but didn’t have a solid enough basis in common interests to remain besties. And that’s fine. It happened.” Alya chuckled. “Didn’t know you were still thinking we had issues.” Rose shrugged but smiled.

“I’m glad you’re okay with that.” Alya chuckled and her smile grew.

“Yeah same.”

Adrien

Adrien was working in his classroom, marking papers.

“Ugh,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “What is with teenagers.” He finished the last paper and stood up with a sigh. He put the papers into his desk and begun to get ready to leave when the door opened. “Mylene! Hey.” The woman smiled.

“Hey, just wanted to see if you were staying late. How’s your first month?” The woman came in to sit on a desk, still smiling.

“Pretty good. Thanks for vouching for me. Might not have got the job without it.”

“You could have.” Said Mylène in reply. “You’re a good teacher Adrien- much better than our examples.” Adrien laughed a little bitterly.

“Well not hard.” He shook his head. “... ever hear from anyone?”

“Well, you did get the invite right?”

“Yeah Rose and Juleka. I’m happy for them… just not sure if I want to go. Not sure if everyone wants me.” He looked down at his empty hands for a second. “... after everything.”

“You messed up Adrien. But you were a kid. Rose wouldn’t invite you if she didn’t want to give you a chance. If any of them wanted not to see you.”

“I… Mylène what I was like, what I did… it was wrong. It was disgusting. It took me literally being slapped by Ladybug, by Marinette and being sued for me to get it through my head. Not to mention-“

“That’s not your fault Adrien. Don’t blame yourself.” Mylène got off the desk and went to place a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good man. C’mon- I’ll buy you a drink. Us teachers are all going. They want you to come.”

“... if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Nathanael

Nathanael was bent over a desk, drawing something with a focused look on his face. He barely paid attention to Marc who walked in, the man laughing quietly.

“Nath, you’re going to hurt your eyes drawing so close and in such bad light.” Marc told him, putting a hand on his shoulder, a wedding ring on his hand.

“I’m fine Marc, promise.” Nathanael smiled at the man, patting his hand. “I think your husband’s-“

“Nathanael, don’t do this.” Marc sighed.

“Do what?”

“Do this ‘I want to wallow’ thing.” Marc shook his head. “Look yeah you were a shitty boyfriend in high school but that was mostly your own issues being bi and all the crap your parents gave you more than anything. And the whole Lila crap- in case you forgot I believed her to until she managed to say one lie I knew was wrong and you snapped out of the magic when I showed you it was wrong.”

“I… I dunno.” Nathanael sighed. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Yeah well no wallowing my friend. C’mon- Marinette called and she wants to see us before Rose and Juleka’s wedding.” Nathanael looked pleased.

“That’s good. Is she still willing to help with talks about our book becoming a movie? I’d rather her or her boy toy being there.”

“She’s going to kill you if you keep calling Tim a boy toy.”

“She grew over six feet tall and she still wears heels. Tim is 5’6”. I will never stop. Jason lets me.”

“Jason likes riling up his girlfriend. She pins him better.”

“... how do you know this?” Nathanael asked his partner in business.

“I’m married to Roy- Jason’s best friend? We talk.”

“... how much can we use for our porn books?”

“Where do you think half the ideas came from?”

Kagami

Kagami was setting up her office, smiling as she put a photo frame down that had her on a podium with an Olympic Gold Medal around her neck.

Pulling back, she looked around the office and smiled.

“Fuck you mom,” she declared. She looked pleased as she set the final piece down, a plague declaring her name.

“Someone sounds happy,” a blonde stuck her head in, grinning. “That exciting to be heading your own company?”

“Of course. I worked hard for this.” Kagami smiled at her. “And stealing Kara Danvers is just a bonus.”

“You’re only saying that because you think it’s funny.” Kara laughed. “Wouldn’t leave you for the wolves after you saved my ass.”

“Anyone else would have done it or well anyone we know.” Kagami told her. Kara gave her that with a shrug. “What’s on the plan for today?”

“Well business wise we have a meeting with Tim Drake-Wayne- he’s currently trying to get permission for some sort of body armour to be made for teens that can be a hoodie or a sweater.”

“It disgusts me we need those. Let me guess the government won’t have it?”

“Not unless he has back up, or if he agrees for the military to have it to for free.”

“That’s disgusting and I’m going to rip them to shreds.”

“Yep. And for pleasure, you’re meeting your girlfriend at that waffle place she likes.” Kagami grinned, looking pleased. “And your other girlfriend is meeting you guys later. She’s busy with helping her youngest brother with something- wanna tell?”

“Damian is proposing to his boyfriend later. And yes you can call in with this info to hangs your bets.” Kara pumped her fist.

“Yes! Clark and Bruce’s families finally join!”

“Dare you to tell them that.”

“I will gladly do so.”

Luka

Luka was busy tuning his gut air when the door opened and Nino stuck his head in. “Yo, Luka- your sister is here.”

“Nice.” Luka grinned as Juleka came in, Nino following. “Jules!”

“Luka!” The two hugged. “Ugh, how’s the recording going?”

“Really well. How’s the wedding planning?”

“Better now that we took Marinette’s advice and hired her friend Bart- he’s amazing at it.” Juleka told her brother. “Rose wants to adopt him I think.”

“Bart? Yeah he has that sort of feel.” Laughed Luka. Juleka shook her head.

“Of course you know him. So… dating anyone?”

“Not really. Sort of dating this one guy Conner but we’re not that serious.” Luka shrugged.

“Aww. Hey how about you Nino?”

“Nah man, I’m flying solo still. Busy with my music and helping Luka out.” Nino told them. “Though I do have a date so… later!”

“... one night stands?” Juleka asked Luka who laughed when Nino was gone.

“Yeah. He’s having fun.”

“To each their own,” Juleka said. “... he’s not-“

“Juleka. He and Alya broke up and I will not let you two hatch a matchmaking scheme at your wedding. It’s about you, no one else.” Luka told him. “As well Nino told me there’s some stuff he doesn’t like talking about with their relationship. And he doesn’t want to get back together.”

“... Alya says-“

“Different people Juleka. Different people and Alya may not be saying everything either.” Luka told his sister. “Aren’t we talking about me?”

“You and your music career making a killing while you also run around with interesting jewelry?”

“Says the one with her fancy rings.” Luka teased. Juleka laughed and smiled. “And the fact she’s a world-famous model now.”

“Yeah we are really killing it aren’t we.” Juleka smiled, then frowned. “... heard about Chloe?”

“Yeah. I think we can trust her though. There are telepaths working there.”

“I know it’s just…” Juleka made a face. “Viperion and Black Claws might need to step in.”

“Maybe. Hopefully not but maybe.” Luka sighed. “... I’m glad you saw through Lila so fast.”

“Got lucky with Rose knowing Ali… he’s coming by the way.”

“King at your wedding. Nice.”

“I know.”

#maribat #miraculous ladybug #ml au #flash forward #ml salt #Lila salt

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maddestzoomer · 4 years

Text

late-night drives

warnings - i don't think there are any aside from a small amount of cursing and a lil bit of angst :)

word count - 2.1k

summary - you go for a late-night ride with steve harrington

a.n. - just thought this was an interesting concept, and so i put it into writing haha. also, i guess this could serve as a second part to stop thinking

.`.

It was two in the morning as you got dressed, pulling on an old sun-bleached t-shirt and some jeans, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

Maybe you wouldn't be doing this if it weren't so uncomfortably hot in your room- the type of hot that made your sheets cling to your body and your skin break out in a small sweat. Maybe if your mom would bother to turn the A/C on, well, maybe you wouldn't be sneaking out.

Tonight was different from the regular, though. Steve had invited you to hang out, and the thought of doing so made gave you something to look forward to. It wasn't often only the two of you hung out.

A part of you wondered if he would actually even show up. You, of course, hoped he would- so that you would be able to spend time with that charming brunette. But the clock on your nightstand sprouted doubt and worry in your mind as the time went on, causing you to pick at your nails as you gazed from your window.

All that doubt and worry was left behind when you watch a car pull up in front of your house.

'Shit...' You thought to yourself. All of a sudden, the reality of the situation seemed to come crashing down. You could feel your heart beating in your chest. Why the fuck did Steve have to have /that effect. The one that made it hard to breathe and even harder to think.

Stop thinking.

You began walking from your room, attempting to be as careful and quiet as possible. You'd studied the hallways floors before, so you knew where to and where not to step.

As soon as you close the front door, you felt pure energy. It may have been three in the morning, but it no longer felt like it. The tiredness faded away with a soft summer breeze, causing the smallest of smiles to pull to your lips.

Quickly, you walked Steve's car, hopping into the passenger's seat and shutting the door behind you.

"Well, look at that!" Steve greeted with a smile as he shifted the car into drive "You know, you're basically a juvenile delinquent now."

You rolled your eyes, though you smiled softly "That's definitely a good way to greet someone." You joked, buckling up.

Steve chuckled softly, rolling down the windows. How he managed to look so awake and ready at 2 am, you had zero clue.

The sprinklers from your neighbor’s yard hissed softly, though that becomes distant as Steve pulled further away from your house.

Steve turned the radio on, flipping through a few stations before finding one he liked, a station playing something by New Order.

Steve, like you, doesn’t sleep all that much. His mind simply doesn't let him sometimes. With all that has happened, sleep is a rarity. He could be absolutely exhausted (mentally or physically), laying in bed with 20 milligrams of melatonin in his system and he still would be kept awake. So he drives. It helps calm him down.

The red lights paint his face in vibrant shadows as he taps on the steering wheel to whatever song was playing. Then, he gripped the steering wheel tightly, and a muscle twitches in his clenched jaw.

“Are you alright?” You asked with a frown, surprised at the hoarseness of your own voice.

Steve shrugged with a slightly casual smile, the light turning green. He slams on the accelerator, causing you to tightly grasp the side of you seat. No one else is on the road (thankfully).

Steve slowed down slightly, not wanting to worry you.

“I don’t get it,” Steve finally said, shaking his head a bit. He sent a glance your way “I just don’t get it.”

“Don't get what?” You ask with a slight frown

“What am I supposed to be doing?” Steve asked as he slows to a stop at another red light, again glancing over to you.

“I dunno. Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to do?”

“If anyone knew the answer to that question,” You smiled softly, sadly, “we’d all be a lot happier.”

Steve shakes his head with a very small smile, then turns onto a road you knew well.

“We’re going up?” You asks. There was a high up hill in Hawkins, one that allowed for people to overlook the town below. You had visited there a few times, mostly because of how calm it can be there.

“I feel like looking down on something,” Steve replies “Makes my problems seem... smaller. Ya know?”

You nodded a bit, still with a small frown. Sometimes, Steve worried you.

The wind and crickets are quickly drowned out as he rounds curves and climbs up the mountain, pressing your shoulders back and forth in you seat.

“I think... at the very least, you know where you belong,” You finally said quietly, when Hawkins is below you and there was less twisting hill available to climb.

“Here. I think.” You added softly, eyes being drawn to the window. Maybe it sounded a bit off when you said it, but you absolutely meant it. He belonged here... right? Such a small town could be pretty shitting with the generally conservative mindset, but at least it was safe, right?

Steve tilts his head, eyes still glued to the road. The headlights bounce off of the signs and flash in both of your eyes. “Maybe... Hopefully.” He said, tone uncharacteristically unsure of itself. Contemplative.

The wind cuts through your clothes, making you shiver and cross your arms over your chest. Steve sees it out of the corner of his eye. He made a quick glance in your direction.

“There’s a sweater in the back.” He says softly, beginning to make another turn

You nodded thankfully, reaching to the back, grabbing the dark blue sweater, and pulling it over your head. It smells softly of pine and coffee, and you swiped off a few crumbs that fall when the fabric rests on your stomach.

“This is gonna sound stupid, but I went to a tea place today,” Steve says, slowing down and pulling over to the side of the road. “Just to watch, I guess. I wanted to see what people do.”

“And?” You asked, looking to Steve. Tires crunch on gravel as he slows the car to a stop on a pullout

“Everyone seemed to have something to do. Grab a coffee and go to work. Sit down for a couple hours and study some stupid summer course. Meet up with a friend and talk about nothing. They all- well,” he parked the car, turning it off and opening the door to step out

You followed him, now grateful for the woolen sweater. Once you were out of the house, it seemed to get a whole lot cooler

“I guess they all seemed to know what they were doing. And I was just sitting there, like 'Fuck. I could be doing something- I should be doing something.'" He said as he climbed onto a rock, then sitting on top

You hesitated a moment before joining him on the rock, taking a seat next to him. The two of you were close to one another, shoulder to shoulder.

“Maybe that was where you were meant to be,” You finally said with a small smile, settling down next to him. He drew his knees up to his chest, taking in a deep breath. It was obvious he didn't agree.

“In that coffee shop. Wondering about the lives of those people. Maybe that’s what you’re meant for, Steve.”

“Yeah... but that doesn't pay bills. Wondering can only do so much.” He murmurs with a small, sad smile, eyes dancing over the lights of the town beneath him. Distant noises drift up- a car honking, a coyote yelling, drunk college kids running around- and you are reminded that this night is not just yours and Steve's

The wind plays with the hairs on the back of your neck as you tilt your head back to stare at the stars. You knew Steve wasn't really asking for an actual answer- at least, not from you, not tonight.

He just wants someone to hear him. That's all he ever wanted. And he knew you would listen because you always listen. Not many people listen actually to what Steve has to say. They write him off as an asshole air-head, as a boring little boy with parents who didn't give a fuck what he had to say.

You know Steve isn't that, though. You know Steve is far, far more.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Steve took your hand into his own, interlocking your fingers with his. Your eyes grew large, and a pink blush dusted over your cheeks, but Steve didn't notice. His eyes stayed on the town below.

"This town is such a fucking shithole..." Steve said quietly as he absentmindedly ran his slender thumb over the back of your hand. You frowned a bit

"It's not too ba-" you cut yourself off when Steve faced you.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The look on his face said more than enough. Steve's gaze was soft but somewhat saddened.

"Steve?" you finally ask, then pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. "Why do you think you don't belong?" you finally asked.

Steve looked down at your interlocked hands. "Because... I don't know. This place is just full of bullshit people with bullshit brains. So many of them... They just- They aren't like you." He said this softly, calmly. Saying it out loud made his heartbeat in the back of his throat. It made his chest a little heavy.

You frown as you look at Steve, shaking your head a bit in confusion. "W-What does that even mean?" You asked, tone obviously confused. Your heart also began beating faster

Steve smiled a moment, looking up to the sky a moment. "Jeez, Y/N..." He bit his bottom lip a moment. Tearing his eyes away from the starry sky, placing them on you, smiling slightly more at your confused frown

Steve let out a deep breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding. His grasp on your hand became slightly tighter, though it still remained gentle and comforting. He smiled softly, remaining quiet for a few moments before saying "I like you, Y/N. I really, really like you."

A strong wave of realization hit you. First, your eyes grew large, then your mouth fell open. Your reaction was, simply, pure awe. Shock, even. Was Steve saying what you thought he was? Or- did you somehow misunderstand him?

Your silence began making Steve a bit nervous "C'mon, Y/N." He let out a quick, sharp breath that was a failed attempt at a chuckle. "You're scaring me." He said, beginning to frown slightly himself. Was telling you how he felt the right idea? Fuck, Steve was beginning to think it wasn't

You kept your eyes on Steve. "I umm..." You looked down a moment at your hands- how nicely they fit together, how nicely /you fit together. "I... like you too, Steve." You looked up to meet Steve's gaze again.

Steve surprised you when he let out a quick laugh. It made you flinch a bit, thinking this may have been a stupid joke. But then, you saw the bright smiling curled to Steve's lips. You hadn't ever seen such a brilliant and genuine and fucking /happy smile plastered on Steve's face before, on anyone's face for that matter.

It was a truly beautiful smile. One you thought you would remember forever. You thought, for a very quick moment, that you would want wanted to see that smile forever. It was a smile that filled you with happiness, with genuine gladness. That smile put you at more ease than any spoken words possibly could.

A small thought made itself comfortable in your mind. 'I want to see that smile every day until I die.' The thought wasn't alarming, invasive, or untrue. It was a comfortable, calming truth. It was like a warm weighted blanket or a mug of hot cocoa between cold hands.

Maybe someday you would tell Steve what you truly thought. But that day... it wasn't today

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #nico writes #my writing #my concept #steve #hawkins

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need-a-fugue · 4 years

Text

The Most Amazing Thing in the World

Summary: The cold puts Bucky in a mood, leaving you to play out your snow day with a certain blond god – giant cockblock – as your mopey super soldier slinks off to brood.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @fanfictionaries for letting me participate in this classic tropes challenge…one of my first ever! And congrats on the 300 followers! My prompt… Snowed In Trope

Warnings: Not a one... just some saccharine sweetness with a mostly moody Bucky.

Word Count: 5.6K

Snow. The whole of the outside world is covered in brilliant, blinding depths of pristine white snow. It’s stunning, dazzling, brilliant. And Bucky absolutely hates it.

Even just the thought of a cold front moving through is enough to set him in a sulk that lasts for days. Weeks. It’s the reason Tony had to have the Weather Channel blocked from their lineup.

Back in March, an early spring nor’easter blew through upstate New York, absolutely pounding the compound, and Bucky spent the entirety of the blizzard either wandering the halls, muttering curses in Russian, or holed up in the common room cleaning not only his own guns and knives, but every single weapon in the Avenger’s arsenal… also whilst mumbling and cursing in Russian.

Steve worried he was suffering some kind of ongoing flashback. Natasha complained that he was simply being a giant damn baby. Sam lamented the fact that they might have to put him down. But you… you simply followed him around the compound with a fluffy blanket to toss over his shoulders, settling in to drink hot tea beside him once he sat down to clean.

The truth is, Bucky Barnes had never liked the cold. Growing up in a bit of a shithole apartment in Brooklyn meant that – more often than not – the boiler would go out the moment winter hit and he’d be forced to sleep snuggled in a tight ball with his little sisters, winding himself into a protective outer layer to conserve all the warmth for them. Walking to and from school in the freezing temps all too often meant giving up his winter coat for Steve – cloaking the frail boy in an extra layer in an attempt to ward off pneumonia – while he shuffled through the snow in old, worn boots and as many sweaters as would fit on his body. And work never stopped for the cold either, all of the odd jobs picked up to help support his family – trudging around town making deliveries for the seamstress, butcher, the guys who ran some sort of business out of the back of the butcher shop – continued despite the bitter city winds and bone chilling temperatures.

And that was all before he suffered through collapsing foxholes in the dead of a European winter – depths of snow obscuring mortars and limbs in the Ardennes – and decades of being languidly pulled in and out of dreamless slumber as he lingered in an ice-filled tomb tucked away in the blindingly desolate depths of Siberia.

Snow was little more than a bitter reminder of the pain he felt so long ago… the pain he was sadly certain would one day return.

Snow most certainly was not… “The most amazing thing in the world!”

His head snaps to the right so fast that a loud crack-pop reverberates through the room, twitching your face into a disgusted grimace, your nose crinkling in revulsion as you turn away from the window and watch him bend his neck awkwardly to release another small snap. He rolls his eyes at your expression and lets out a weary sigh, returning his empty gaze to the window as his breath fogs the glass. “No. It’s not.”

You drop a loud snort and fold your arms tightly over your chest as you glare at him. “You can’t possibly think this is a bad thing.”

He cocks his head towards you, confusion wrinkling his brow. You know how much he hates the cold. You’ve known him long enough – well enough – to understand why. And unlike so many of the others around here – Steve always telling him to quit moping, Sam poking fun and calling him ice princess the minute the weather starts to change – you’ve never once tried to get him to get over it.

Your arms unfurl as you take a step a closer to the man by your side, your hands – warm hands – reaching over and gathering his clenched fists, allowing no more than a breath of a moment to pass before peeling his fingers apart and winding them with your own. “Steve and Nat and Sam are on a mission in Costa Rica,” you remind him subtly.

“Lucky bastards,” he interrupts, bitterness lacing the words.

Your fingers tighten around his as you go on, sly, crooked smile pulling across your face. “Tony and Bruce are at some kind of science conference… somewhere.” The cavernous wrinkle between his brows begins to flatten out, a bit of dreamy blue breaking through the gray of his stormy eyes as he starts to catch on. You take half a step closer, chests not quite touching, but warmth still radiating across the limited space separating your bodies. “Clint took Vision and Wanda into the city this morning, something about testing powers with Stark tech at the tower,” you offer with a shrug before looking up and locking onto his still curious gaze, offering a rather sultry one of your own. “And now… with all this snow… there’s no way that any of them will be able to make it back tonight.”

A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looks down at you. “You’re saying… for once… we’re actually alone?”

You nod, pulling yourself up on your tiptoes to swiftly swipe the tip of your nose against his, finally pressing your oh-so-warm body up against him. And you whisper, “That’s what this snow gave us. Now, tell me again how it’s not the most amazing thing in the world?”

His countenance cracks even further, no longer showing even a trace of the doom and gloom from just moments before. “S’not,” he murmurs, unwinding from your fingers and dropping his hands to your hips. He gives a small tug, bringing you utterly flush with him, and he gazes deeply into your eyes in that way that makes your insides shudder. “Definitely not the most amazing thing.”

“Ooo,” you intone lightly, playfully. “Such a charmer. What would the rest of the team think if they knew you were such a sap?”

He shakes his head languidly back and forth, the motion extending down to his hands plastered to your hips as well, pulling you in a subtle sway. “They’ll never know. S’not for them to know.” And he leans in, delicately parting your lips with his own.

The kiss is sweet and lingering and speaks of having all the time in the world. A rarity for the two of you – outside of your rooms, at least – being as you’re typically forced into swift and fervid lip locks that knock the breath from your lungs. Fast and aching and yearning for more as one or the other of you presses into the wall in a dark corner of the compound hard enough to pepper your backs with bruises. Stolen kisses take the shape of clashing teeth, pounding lips, desperately squirming hips, all held together by the deliciously perilous threat of being found out.

But now… now there’s no one around. There’s no lingering danger nor press of time. No upcoming mission to prepare for, nor debrief to hurry off to. No Steve about to knock at the door in hopes of an early morning run, nor Natasha silently sweeping through the halls like some kind of ninja ghost. Now, there is only you and him and the silent still of a snow-covered morning offering the sweet, tender promise of –

“Lady Agent?!”

The thick, heavy bellow reverberates in from the hall, swift plodding footsteps echoing behind it. Bucky’s eyes shoot wide and he not only releases your hips – and your lips – but actually shoves you away, setting you to stumble. “Fucking Thor,” he bemoans, swiping a hand over his mouth before shoving it madly through his hair.

“Sergeant Winter?!” sounds from just outside the common room door, the rather jumbled handle pulling a sudden snicker from you and a frustrated groan from Bucky. “Surely someone remains,” the god laments piercingly, his cries sounding almost frightened.

You choke back a laugh – mostly at the mess of a man in front of you, now shaking out his hands and pacing as though trying to rid himself of a years’ worth of pent up energy – and you call out, “In here.”

Thor turns the corner and enters the room with a delighted swagger and such a wide smile of relief on his face that you feel a little tug and pull in your chest. This poor giant of a man – a god – has spent the better part of the past month following each of you around in turn, just trying to break into the rather tightknit group you all had formed in his absence. He trains with the Avengers, fights with the Avengers, but actually fitting in with the Avengers has been proving difficult for the God of Thunder, the scent of his desperation flooding the compound and setting eyes to roll and exasperated glances and glares to proliferate.

Still, as annoying as he can sometimes be – tagging along for debriefs he has no need to attend, showing up for movie nights to which he’s not exactly invited – you see his struggle for what it truly is. He’s a man bereft of family and home, simply searching for a place he might belong. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t break your heart.

“Ah, most excellent!” the hulking blond enthuses, making a beeline for you. “I was beginning to wonder if it was only I and…” – he flings a haphazard hand through the air – “the woman in the walls.” He positively beams as he steps in between you and Bucky, pressing his nose to the glass of the window as he looks out over the snow-covered grounds. “Have you seen, Lady Agent?! The world is covered in the most blissfully brilliant white!”

Bucky offers an indignant snort from over his shoulder. “No snow where you’re from?” he asks with a low, vexed tenor.

If Thor notices his irritation, he doesn’t let it show, huge grin still plastered to his face as he replies, “In Asgard? No, of course not. It is perfectly temperate year-round.”

“Of course it is,” he mutters.

“I have seen this snow many a time on my travels to Midgard. But rarely so much. And so… undisturbed. It is quite beautiful, wouldn’t you say?”

You nod, the corner of your mouth ticking up in a crooked grin as you shoot a quick wink over at Bucky, only to find that he’s once again taken on the slumped posture and bitter demeanor that he’s managed to become known for around here. “It certainly is,” you tell Thor, your eyes lingering on Bucky for a long moment as you fight off the thick and sudden sense of discontent curling in your gut.

“Are there no others here?” he asks, eyes still plastered to the outside.

You sigh. “Nope, just us. And Friday said that the surrounding roads are shut down for now, so doesn’t look like anyone will be back any time soon.”

“Well, then,” he starts, stepping away from the window and leaving a giant steamy smear from his face. He looks to you with something akin to glee, and you feel your disappointment at Bucky’s mood begin to wane. “What shall we do with our day?” he asks, oozing a sort of childlike enthusiasm.

You smile wide, a massive toothy grin splitting your face in two. “Thor,” you start, slow and drawn out, the name stretched methodically, voice taking on that very specific air that only comes about when you have a plan. Bucky feels his heart drop to his shoes as he hears the shift in tone, watches the impish expression take over your face. Whatever this is – he’s certain – it won’t be good. “Have you ever experienced an old fashioned snow day?

000

Four hours later and Bucky’s barely seen you at all – save for a quick meal of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that you used your long-lashed doe eyes to convince him to fix for you and your new BFF – until he peers out the wall of windows in the common room and catches you awkwardly climbing through the foot-deep snow below, holding tightly to the arm and shoulder of a bundled-up god as he trudges alongside. He watches closely, watches as you struggle to find footing, falling and laughing, your face lit with such delight that he thinks he can almost hear your high-pitched giggles from behind the reinforced glass, two stories above. Thor winds his arms around your middle and hauls you to him, only seeming to realize that clomping through the snow as a single four-legged unit is pointless the minute he goes down beside you, faceplanting in the thick, white fluff.

Bucky smirks as the massive blond jerks upright and sputters, shaking the snow from his hair. But his expression changes on a dime – dropping back into that sullen, somber, perhaps even angry scowl that has sat so comfortably on his face ever since that giant cockblock rolled in – when he watches Thor pick you up, plucking you easily from the deep snow, and throwing you over his shoulder before trudging further out from the building.

At some point you stop, demanding that your giant companion put you down, which he does by tossing you into an even deeper drift, the thrill of flying and fun of landing in the delightfully powdery snow causing you to ask him to do it again – several more times – before the laughter finally subsides and you decide to get down to business. You flop backwards, laying flat in the snow and demanding that Thor do the same. And you show him precisely how to move his arms and legs about to create the perfect – just absolutely perfectly deep and symmetrical – snow angel. And while swimming about in fresh giggles and joy and soft, crunchy snow, you look up to the window where you’d caught a glimpse of Bucky perched just moments before, your red face beaming with a euphoric, toothy grin.

But he’s no where to be seen.

By the time you finally come back in – just after a rather disastrous snow ball fight leaves you with what you’re certain is quickly blooming into an angry welt on your ass – the sun has all but disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the deep blue twilight butting up against the sparkling sheen of pure white. You shiver as you shed your thick winter coat in the atrium – vowing to come back for the sopping mess later lest Tony finds it and blows another gasket about the messy heathens he so graciously houses – the blistery winds whipping through the indoors for a moment before Thor wrestles the door shut. The cold sizzles along the tops of your ears and tips of your fingers, hat and gloves soaked through and thick with slush. You tug them off and drop them on the floor by your coat, order Thor to do the same.

Once in the elevator, you tell him to go thaw out in a hot shower… one of the most integral pieces of this snow day routine. You step out into the hall that leads to both of your rooms and spin to level him with a pointed stare. “When you’re done,” you say, tone terribly commanding despite being punctuated by soft, snotty sniffles, “Come back to the common room and we’ll have hot chocolate. A snow day’s not a snow day if it doesn’t end with cocoa.”

He nods in agreement, but says nothing, the rather enthusiastic yet slightly confused look that twists his features being by now an all too familiar sight. You let out a breathy chuckle and shuffle past his room, not at all surprised when he refuses to stop at his door, instead insisting – wordlessly – on showing you to your room before backtracking to his own.

You thank him with a nod – admittedly charmed by his gentlemanly actions – and slip into your dark dormitory only to be met with a low growl of, “Hey doll,” that causes you to jump and shriek in surprise.

“Jesus, Bucky! You scared me,” you breathe out, hand flying to your chest.

You flip on the light in time to catch his smirk. “Figured an Avenger would have better instincts than that,” he smarts from his spot on the corner of your bed. “I left the door unlocked… not exactly hiding that I’m here.”

You roll your eyes. “First of all, you’re sitting in the dark, so… hiding. And also, I’m not technically an Avenger,” you argue, hopping on one foot as you struggle to free yourself from a soggy boot. “Just… adjacent personnel.”

“Sure,” he intones, rising from the bed and crossing the room to help. “Lady Agent, is it?” he mocks with a scoff as he gives you a gentle shove back into the wall and takes over wrestling the boot from your foot.

You lean back heavily, switching feet to raise the other once he frees you, and let out a small chortle. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

The second boot pops off with a jarring smack and Bucky stumbles back as it almost hits him in the face. He snorts loudly and angrily chucks the shoe across the room before turning back to you with a raised brow. “I don’t get jealous,” he says, a challenging note to his voice.

You drop an indignant snort as you reach down to peel off a single, sloppy sock. Rising, you peer up at him, eyes narrowing as you take in his oddly contemplative stare. He doesn’t seem angry, nor upset in any way, really. He just looks… confused.

“Should I be jealous?” he asks then, the words slipping past his lips in a soft, hesitant tone.

You huff out a breath and throw the sock at him, barking a quick laugh when it slaps him in the cheek, landing with a thick, wet splat. The tentativeness falls from his face, expression filling instead with an irritated sort of impatience. That same scowl he’d been wearing earlier – when you zipped up your parka and pulled on your hat and told him that you were declaring today a snow day – returns full force. “Man,” you mutter, shaking your head as you awkwardly tug off the other sock. “Sometimes you can be a real dick, ya know?”

You stumble a bit, hopping on one foot in a small circle as you try to maintain your balance. Bucky rolls his eyes, purses his lips, and steps over to steady you, one firm hand clamping down on your shoulder to hold you in place while you pull off the sock with a squelch. He doesn’t let go once you regain your footing, instead clenching his fingers tighter as he bites out, “He doesn’t even know your name.”

You shrug. “Doesn’t always seem like you do, either,” you smart, accusatory brow raised high. His eyes narrow suspiciously – confoundedly – and you huff out a long and languid sigh before collapsing forward into him. Your arms wrap around his neck as you let him bear the brunt of your weight – whether he wants to or not – your spent, numb limbs tingling uselessly in your damp clothes. His shoulders stiffen beneath you and you respond by snuggling closer, burrowing your face into his neck and grinning wildly when he bucks at the touch of your bitterly cold nose. “Doll,” you mock thickly, the word nearly eaten up by the flesh covering his bobbing throat as your lips linger near his Adam’s apple. “Baby, Sweetheart, Darlin’.”

His shoulders relax and he sighs out into your damp hair, arms slowly winding around your middle, tugging you close and holding you tightly to his chest. “I can start calling your Agent, if you want. Or, I don’t know, Ice Queen?”

You pull back abruptly, leaning away whilst still penned in by his arms, staring at him in something akin to horror. “I think we all know who the real Ice Queen is here, Barnes,” you snipe.

Maybe it’s wrong – hell it must be because everything he thinks and feels and does seems to be wrong nowadays – but seeing you get riled up, watching that angry fire creep into your eyes, that smug tilt to your chin as you go on to accuse him of being so rude to Thor, well damn if it doesn’t cause a lighthearted rumble of a laugh to bubble up his chest and a crooked smile to spill across his lips. “I just meant…” he interrupts swiftly, cutting off your complaint of just wanted to play in the snow with a shushing press of his metal index finger to your lips, “because you’re freezing, doll face.”

You roll your eyes languidly, irritation still present in your pinched features, but beginning to melt into a reluctant fondness. “Doll face… psh. Why not just call me honey bear or baby cakes?”

“Alright, honey bear,” he intones with a bit of a glint in his eye. “You gonna peel these wet clothes off or just die in my arms from hypothermia?”

You raise a brow. “Those are my only choices?”

He shrugs. “You got a better suggestion?”

A deep and dramatic frown rolls over your face – more than a bit overdone – and you unclasp your hands from around his neck, begin to futz pathetically with the zipper of your hoodie. “My fingers are numb,” you whine “I can’t.”

“Okay.” He unfurls his arms from around you, looks down at your attire and reaches out to languidly tug down the zipper of the sweatshirt, slowly, delicately, inch by inch, while his metal fingers make their way beneath your top and swiftly pop the button of your jeans, single index finger lazily pressing the zippered fly down. Once done, he steps back and stares, blank expression on his face as he raises both brows assessingly and says simply, “There you go.”

You continue to pout, hands rising and swiping awkwardly – pitifully – for him across the nearly negligible distance separating you. “My feet are numb,” you whimper. “Carry me.”

It comes out as a command – a rather whiny, juvenile command, but a command none the less. And damn if that doesn’t cause his whole expression to shift, teasingly aloof demeanor fleeing in an instant as he chokes on a laugh. “Carry you?”

You merely nod in response, wasting no time at all leaping forward, clutching his shoulders and forcing yourself on him, chests colliding and driving a thick oof from his mouth in lieu of the laughter as you wrap yourself around him like an overgrown spider monkey, latching on and locking your ankles at the small of his back. “Carry me,” you say again, once more dropping your face – and that that damn cold nose, those frost-bruised cheeks – into the crook of his neck.

“Okay, baby bear,” he teases lightly, voice soft and melodic and smooth like melted honey as his metal arm sweeps beneath your ass to haul you higher. “Let’s get you in the shower.”

You let him carry you back to the ensuite, clinging to him even as he reaches into the shower to turn on the water, an awkward feat that he manages with a surprising amount of grace and not a word of complaint, a thing that makes your smile burn even brighter as you continue to press into his warm and inviting neck. He settles you down onto the bathroom counter as the water heats up, steam already beginning to billow out and cloud the mirror behind you.

You watch as he makes a move to pull off his Henley, simultaneously toeing off his thick-soled boots. And you settle your still-chilled hands over the tops of his to halt his movements. “Uh-uh,” you hum dully, returning his confused glance with an almost reprimanding one of your own. “You’re not forgiven yet.”

“Forgiven for what?” he bites out, irritation blooming in the corners of his narrowed eyes.

You grasp his face lightly, fingers dragging across the achingly familiar scruff lining his jaw, thumbs scratching lazily at the stubble on his chin. His muscles instantly loosen beneath your fingertips, clenched jaw dropping, lips parting for the briefest of moments before he closes his eyes and shifts in your hold, pressing a lingering kiss to the pad of your thumb.

“You need to go make hot cocoa,” you say then, voice cutting through the rumbling of the running water and steady, swooshing pulse of your blood rushing in your ears. He looks back at you, deep blue eyes darkened with desire, and for a moment you think you may have lost the upper hand. “Please?” you ask primly, sweetly, cocking your head to the side as you continue to hold his in your faltering grip.

“Hot cocoa?” he breathes out, dubious brow raised high.

You nod. “Every snow day ends with cocoa.”

He sighs and drops his head heavily onto your shoulder, his own hands splaying out on the countertop on either side of your hips. “Okay,” he laments softly, patting your thigh as he pulls himself upright. “Hot cocoa.”

He turns to leave, no more than a half a step out the bathroom door when you mention brightly, “And make a lot. You know how Thor gets around Midgardian food and drink.”

000

“The snow people,” Thor begins again, slapping his knee as a loud guffaw spills from his lips. “I had never heard of such a thing! But, so wonderous! Imagine,” he says, vivid stare locking onto Bucky as he reenters the room, “taking that… that… snow and building men!” He shakes his head fondly, wistfully. “Ah, and it held together so well. Like icy clay. Just wonderful.”

“You did a hell of a job,” you tell him, nodding gratefully at Bucky as he hands you another cup of cocoa. “There’s a whole damn army of snowmen out there now. Probably better security than anything Tony could build.”

“Ha!” he barks. “Indeed!” He turns to Bucky accepting a fourth mug for himself. “Have you seen them? Just out the window there… our snow warriors.”

Bucky offers him a stiff, closed-lip smile – all the acknowledgement he’s willing to give – and heads back to the kitchenette to mope.

“It is quite a delicious drink,” the blond god enthuses as he slurps indelicately, turning back to you. “Chocolate, but… hot. Remarkable!”

You take another sip from your cup, feeling your insides warm as the thick, hot treat slips down your throat. “When I was a kid, my mom would always make us cocoa when it snowed. Even when we were all grown up and home visiting from college.” A wistful smile pulls across your face, features softening and glowing in the burning orange light cast by the fireplace as you reminisce about those days long since gone.

Thor watches you closely, his own face relaxing in pace with yours. “When I was a child, my mother would have the servants brew barrels and barrels of mead, which we would roll out to the hills and drink dry.” He chortles a bit as a melancholy air envelopes the room. “Mother would come out to gather us in the evening, hurrying us home as we tripped and stumbled and played.” He meets your eyes for just a fraction of a second before dropping his gaze down to the drink in his hands. “She would always make sure we arrived back home safely, neatly tucked into bed as the mead made our heads spin.”

“Wait,” Bucky, murmurs, suddenly looming above you both. You look up at his perplexed visage from the nest of blankets built up beneath you on the floor. “You were drunk? As kids? Your mom gave you beer?”

Thor snuggles deeper into his own warm cocoon and glances up at Bucky with the smallest – and saddest – of smiles. “She did, yes. A wonderful mother indeed.”

You reach out and lay an open palm atop his fleece-clad knee – one he quickly sweeps into his own large hand to squeeze with a grateful air – while glaring at Bucky with a raised and warning brow. Don’t make fun, it says. He was raised in a different culture.

Bucky sighs and offers a glare of his own – Still weird as fuck. – before dropping heavily onto the sofa behind you.

The three of you sit in silence for several long moments… Thor, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace as he continues to grip your hand in a silent plea for strength, for comfort. You, staring idly at the side of his face, gently tracing your thumb over his knuckles, lending what little solace you can. Bucky, squishing into the corner of the couch, as far from you as he can possibly get, watching the interaction from the corner of his eye, feigning disinterest.

A long, drawn-out yawn pulls suddenly from your chest, causing Thor’s attention to snap your way. “You should go rest,” he says with a soft smile. “I must thank you for such a wonderful day. It did quite a lot to lift my spirits.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and lays a tender kiss upon your knuckles. “Truly. Thank you.”

You beam over at him, a slight blush tinging your cheeks. “Anytime,” you mutter with a small, awkward laugh as you set aside your mug and peel your way out of the blankets nestled around you. Bucky leans over and helps you unwind them, wrapping his hand around your ankle as you stand, foot catching clumsily. He says nothing, just flicks away the offending blanket and sets you steadily back on the ground so you can continue on your way. You give him a quick nod of thanks, blush somehow burning brighter when you catch a glimpse of his lovely face tinged orange by the dancing firelight. And you leave, more than ready to curl up into a heap in your warm bed… and await the subtle press of that other body’s heat that so often curls around you once all the others at the compound slink off to bed.

Both Bucky and Thor watch you go, your thick-socked feet sliding and gliding out the door in an innocent ice dance, pulling a tender, loving smile from one and an amused, low chuckle from the other.

“She is rather wonderful, don’t you think?” Thor asks after a long and silent moment. He turns to look at Bucky with an oddly eager expression. “All of the Avengers have been… kind. But none so welcoming. So… caring.”

He nods absently, taking a slow pull from his own mug of cocoa. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Was she such a way with you?” he asks, words dripping with an almost unprecedented level of solemnity from the typically jovial god.

Bucky stares at him for a beat, silently assessing something about him. Or, perhaps, something else altogether. “Yeah,” he says finally, another nod bobbing his head. “Yeah, she was. Might’ve been the only one, really… who seemed to…” he shrugs vaguely. “I don’t know, care.”

“Isn’t the Captain your dearest friend?”

“He is, yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “But Steve… he’s always looking for the guy I used to be. He’s always looking for Bucky Barnes, the kid from Brooklyn. Sometimes it’s like he looks straight through me, just searching for him.”

“And I suppose the others look for the soldier in you,” he offers with a glaring amount of earnestness. “That is who they need on this team, no?” Bucky glances at him, cocks his head, but says nothing. “They always look for the god in me,” he mutters, shifting his gaze back to the fireplace. “To bring down the hammer, as Stark seems so fond of saying.”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs softly, the single word swimming in mutual understanding.

Thor turns to him again, shifting to face him bodily. His expression is impassive – sincere – as he says, “It is late, my friend. Perhaps you too should go.” A tiny, sly smile ticks up the corners of his lips. “Go find your lady and make love to her before she falls asleep.” He offers a swift and telling wink and a, “Thank you. For the cocoa,” before turning his attention back to the fire and nestling down deeper into his blankets.

Bucky says nothing at all, stunned speechless for a long moment before the buzzing between his ears halts and he’s able to climb off of the couch. He silently pads from the room, down the hall – with practiced, measured steps – not at all surprised to find your door left ajar.

He slips in soundlessly, just like any other night, and sheds his shoes and socks in the corner, peels off his jeans and shirt. He drops a knee to the edge of your bed, prepares to crawl in and slink beneath the covers, wrap himself around you, peck softly at your neck until he’s met with that delicate, airy giggle that he so desperately craves. But he stops suddenly as his eyes catch a glare from the window.

He pulls back and crosses the room to tug the curtains shut, a thing you so rarely think to do despite the fact that anyone who wanted could peer right into your room. As his fingers close on the thick fabric, he glances out the window, taking in the reflection of the moon on the snow-covered trees, the blanketed grounds… seeing also the reflection of your face in the window pane, features soft and sleepy, heavy lids blinking languidly as you watch him, patiently waiting.

He nods slowly, gaze arcing out over the pristine grounds below before settling back on the reflection of your barely open eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes out, scarcely a whisper, his breath fogging the glass. The smallest, most tender smile tugs at his lips as he pulls the curtains closed. “The most amazing thing in the world.”

#FanFictionairiesClassicTropeChallenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #thor #marvel fanfic #marvel #MCU

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irwingiggling · 4 years

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friends of friends. | pt. 1

A/N: Sooo guess who’s back with a new fic?! Please let me know what you guys think, and if you want me to continue this - I have lots of ideas for it! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like so I know people are interested in reading more :) The band does exist in this fic, but it’s more of a casual thing and none of the boys are famous. In this fic I tried to really focus on the characterization and in improving my writing, so yeah this is my little passion project rn while I’m in quarantine. [Also a little shoutout to @cakesunflower, I don’t know her at all but her fics (wglylm, quiet hours, etc.) and her writing is honestly incredible and she was one of the many awesome writers on here who inspired me to start this. :)]

Word Count: 2,100+

Rating: PG-13 (mentions of alcohol, swearing)

---

"Who's Calum?" Audrey was perched over a tall wooden stool, hands around a mug of steaming hot coffee. Her short brown hair landed just above her shoulders, cascading perilously towards her coffee as she stared down her friend, a sly smile on her face.

"Just a friend of a friend," Rose replied with a shrug.

Audrey's eyebrows arched in response, unsatisfied with Rose's answer.

"No seriously. I barely know him, I met him the other day at some get together Nina dragged me to."

At mention of the other girl, a smile crept onto Audrey's face. "Damn, Nina. How's she doing?" The three were close friends back in university, sharing a dorm for two years. But after school, they'd all started to go their separate ways. Nina was in public relations. A true socialite, she loved meeting new people, and could keep up conversation for hours. Since landing her new job as an assistant for some small music company, she'd managed to drag Rose along to various parties and social gatherings with increasing frequency. The two lived on opposite sides of town in Boston, but remained decently close despite this. On the other hand, Audrey had moved back home to Michigan after school, and the two didn't see her very often at all.

"She's good. Still a true extrovert." Rose said with a gentle shake of her head.

"Gotta love that girl. She was always a go-getter." Audrey laughed, taking a sip of the creamy drink.

In contrast to Nina, Rose would describe herself as a simple person. She had her little apartment, her work, a well-stocked supply of coffee, and her dog, Olive - who she'd somehow managed to sneak under her apartment's 60lb weight limit. Everything else was extra, but as long as she had those few essentials, she was perfectly content. Though as a recent university grad who was still working part-time at a coffee shop, and taking whatever freelance work she could on the side, she didn't have a lot of room for extravagances anyway. In contrast, Audrey found a job as a radio broadcaster back home right out of school, and could now afford to make the flight down to see her girls.

"Anyways don’t try and change the subject, you haven't had a man in your life in ages!" Audrey exclaimed, teasingly poking a finger against the arm of Rose's blue sweater.

Rose gave her head a faint shake, smiling gently. She had no doubt Nina had already recounted the entire work gathering to Audrey over one of her long-winded FaceTime calls. Nina had a way of getting carried away with the stories she told, which likely meant their distant observation of Calum had morphed into a much closer brush than it actually was.

----

She vaguely remembered him from that last work event. He was easily recognizable by his dark curly hair, tanned skin, and youthful appearance, especially since the vast majority of others mingling looked to be in their late 30s. Rose caught drifts of conversations about sales and pitches and various public relations-related stuff. She had caught him looking over at her during one of the speeches. When she met his gaze he'd turned away.

"Who's that?" she asked, tugging lightly on Nina's arm. Nina was in the middle of rambling about some publication technique to boost online views.

"Oh, him? That's Calum. He's a member of one of the newer bands the company's signed. Seems decent, haven't really had a chance to chat with him yet."

Calum.

She never got the guts to go over and talk to him that night, even though he looked like one of the only people who was actually having a decent time, chatting animatedly with an equally tall guy around his age, drink in hand. Instead, she stayed by Nina's side, letting her talkative friend fill the silence and introduce her to many people whose names she would inevitably forget.

---

It was two weeks later, and Nina had caught Rose off guard yet again, getting her to agree to another one of her work parties before Rose even really knew what she was saying yes to. The term ‘party’ was an exaggeration, to say the least. Only the watered-down drinks and the 70s hits playing at a whisper in the background gave the faintest suggestion that this was a party. Rather, it was a way for people at Nina’s company to schmooze with those from other nearby labels and PR companies, collaborating on techniques, getting insider information on new signings and album releases. And Nina was so thrilled at the prospect of sharing her knowledge and making new friends, that Rose felt obligated to say yes. However, not knowing a thing about the music industry or public relations made it difficult to relate to any of the conversations, so she often found herself glued to Nina’s side, maintaining an appropriate amount of nods and smiles to the people Nina talked to, waiting for the agonizingly slow clock to tick down. She sharply reminded herself to not give in to Nina’s pleas again, that this would be the last time she would let her Friday nights turn out like this.

Letting her thoughts wander, she remembered catching a vague glimpse of the dark-haired man earlier on in the night, but she hadn't seen him at all in the past half-hour, and figured he'd gone home. She wished she could leave too, but sadly Nina was her ride, which meant she'd be here for a while longer. By this time Rose was frankly sick of Nina's incessant chatter, and with feigning enjoyment in meeting random people she truly had no interest in.

She politely excused herself from the conversation, and made her way towards the kitchen, in the hopes she could scrounge up another drink to get her through the night. Taking a look around the kitchen, she let out a small sigh when she didn't see any alcohol. However, her eyes landed on the same curly-haired man from earlier. So this was where he'd been hiding out. His cheeks flushed a vague tinge of pink at seeing he'd been discovered, but he let out a relieved breath when he saw that it was her. One of the only other people here around his age, who didn't seem like she'd want to chatter endlessly about the management side of music.

"Hey, I remember you." He stood facing her, a gentle smile on his face. "Calum," he introduced, taking a hand out of his pocket and extending it towards her.

"Rose," she replied, lips curving into a smile as she shook his hand, his larger one temporarily enveloping hers.

"Nice to meet you," he nodded. "Do you work here?" He was sure if he'd seen her before that he would have remembered.

"No, I'm actually a struggling arts major," she confessed with a small chuckle. "My friend dragged me here. Nina."

"Oh," Calum nodded, eyes flashing lightly in recognition of a name he couldn't quite place. "The really… social one?" He asked hesitantly towards the end, unsure exactly how to phrase it.

"Yeah, you can’t miss her,” Rose said, giving her head a small shake in amusement. She felt a sense of relief as Calum's light chuckle flooded her ears.

"So I'm kind of hiding out here right now," he began, looking past her for a second to the crowd of people mingling past the doorway, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he confirmed none of the guests were interested in pulling him into another conversation.

She chuckled lightly, moving to place her empty glass near the sink. "Do you come to these kinds of things often?"

"Not really," he shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "But the label wanted me to make an appearance. Somehow I keep drawing the short end of the stick this month for that kind of stuff."

She laughed, glad she didn't have to pretend this was an enjoyable party.

"It's kinda.. stuffy?" he added, nose scrunching at the word.

She nodded in complete understanding. "Yeah. A lot of middle-aged record and publication people. Not exactly my crowd either."

"Tell me about it," Calum sighed, taking a long sip of his fruity drink. "And this was all I could find," he added half-heartedly, raising the glass.

She chuckled, trying to muffle her amusement at the strange drink that didn't seem to quite fit with his look. The vividly coloured mini umbrella and bright purple liquid contrasted sharply with the metal rings that adorned his tanned fingers and the tattoos peeking out from his shirt collar.

Noting her amusement with his drink of choice, his eyes began to light up, and he chuckled along with her.

"I figured," she said, fighting to contain her smile. This only served to make him more amused, a full-blown laugh bubbling out from his full, pink lips. His laugh seemed too pure, too alive for this subdued party.

They stood in silence for a couple beats, letting the low buzz from the various people in the room flood their ears again, before Calum drained the rest of his drink in a gulp. "Did you wanna get out of here?" He asked, setting his empty glass down on the counter beside hers, gesturing vaguely to the direction of the front door.

"Oh!" She wasn't able to mask her surprise, eyebrows rising and a faintly amused but apologetic look on her face. "Wow, um… I think you're great, I really do, but that's just not quite something that I'm-"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her response. He tilted his head slightly to one side, lips parted, as he tried to figure her out. Eventually his lips curved into a smile and a gentle laugh erupted from his mouth as he realized where she was going with this. "Shit, I meant food. My bad."

And then she was blushing profusely, wanting to melt into the floor in embarrassment because how could she fuck that up? She sighed, letting out a small whine of contempt, and when she finally got the courage to look back up at him, he was watching her, eyes sparkling. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, trying half-heartedly to contain the smile that still graced his face at her expense.

"Yeah, ok." She nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "I can do food."

---

She didn't quite know how she ended up at the fast-food place at 10pm, seated in a tiny booth across from Calum, watching the curly-haired man munching happily away on fries, their knees occasionally knocking against each other.

When he looked at her it was as if he was looking into her. His dark curls cascaded over his forehead, a hint of stubble on his jaw. His eyes were soft and dark brown. They crinkled around the edges when he laughed and they felt like home. It was weird for her, to feel that way with a stranger. But in many ways Calum felt more like an old friend. Like someone she'd known all her life and was just reconnecting with. At this point in the night he was beginning to look tired and sleepy, but just when she thought he was losing interest, his eyes would light up at a funny comment, and it would bring her in closer, creating the most comfortable, at ease feeling deep in her stomach. That night she learned Calum had a wicked dry sense of humour, and that his warm laugh sounded like honey.

They were there for over an hour, long after the remnants of their burgers had gone cold. Only the buzzing of the neon sign in the front window, and the quiet shuffling of the lone staff member were background noise to their conversation.

Eventually they decided to part ways, both tired and content from the night. They put their empty trays in the garbage, and left. Outside they stood only a few steps apart, trying to use each other's bodies to evade the cold wind blowing through the empty parking lot. It was already April in Boston, but some nights still felt like winter.

"Alright," he said, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head so only a few curls poked out. "Get home safe, ok?"

"I will. You too, Calum."

She turned to leave, but his fingertips brushed across the fabric of her jacket. She looked up, the movement garnering her attention. His tongue darted across his bottom lip, brown eyes searching her own.

"We're doing a little show at The Reign next Saturday night. You should come, if you want."

"Yeah I'd love to. I'll be there."

And then he was smiling, hands buried in his pockets. She took a step back and gave him a wave, which he returned, watching her for a few moments before turning in the direction of his own apartment.

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thefanfictor · 3 years

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Last Minute Plans (Taehyung Blurb)

Contents: Dystopian fanfiction, fun, cute, mentions of LGBTQ+ (there’s the warning, for you homophobic fucks), NOT ROMANCE

You were walking along the streets of Busan, inhaling the smell of the cool evening air. You had 2 days until your plane was due to go home. You were sad, but you were determined to enjoy what was left of your trip. The year was 2051 and you were 16. What were you in Busan for?

Well, three years ago you had discovered a boyband. A Korean boyband who had rocked the world nearly 40 years ago. BTS.

They had been active performers for nearly 25 years, but they had disbanded since then. And of course, they had separated the year you were born. But once you had found their music, you were hooked. And about 2 weeks ago, you’d had the opportunity to come to Korea.

Fat chance that you’d declined.

Now, here you were, walking back to your hotel as the sun was setting. You were staying in a quieter part of the city, so it was relatively peaceful with a few people wandering the streets. Deciding you weren’t in a huge rush to get back, you leaned against a nearby wall and closed your eyes letting yourself bask in the moment. A minute later, however, the silence was broken by a soft “Thank you”.

You opened your eyes and were met by the sight of a man in tan slacks, a large blue sweater, and a bucket hat that sat low on his head, obscuring his eyes. Your stomach tensed as you looked over this stranger. Instinctively you slipped your hand into your pocket and grabbed your keychain, slipping the keys between each finger in case you needed to defend yourself. Who was he?

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir,” You replied, still on edge but not wanting to be rude. A closer inspection of the man revealed a soft smile under his hat. He pointed a finger at the hoodie you were wearing. On it was BTS’s symbol, in Love Yourself: Answer colors. A small smile broke your face and you loosened your grip on the keys a bit.

“Are you - er, WERE you one of their fans too?” You asked. He chuckled a bit.

“Not exactly. What’s your name, miss?” He inquired. You hesitated a moment. Should you tell him? He was a stranger. Well, it couldn’t hurt right? He seemed nice enough.

“I’m Y/N L/N, sir. Or, I guess L/N Y/N since we’re in Korea...” You replied with a nervous chuckle, “And I don’t mean any disrespect, but... why exactly did you thank me if you weren’t their fan?”

Another chuckle. This time, instead of answering, he reached up and pulled the bucket hat off his head. It took you a minute to scan over his face, but once it registered, everything clicked. Your knees buckled and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, it was likely you would’ve fallen over.

His soft brown eyes, the adorable boxy grin, and the jawline that, even after sixteen years, still looked like it could cut someone. His broad shoulders shook as he chuckled at your reaction, and his deep, rich laughter was very familiar.

“Y-You’re... V,” You murmured in disbelief. “Oh my God...”

V nodded and smiled again at you. If it weren’t for your overwhelming will to hold yourself together, you would’ve collapsed into a puddle of happy tears and squealing. He held out his hands and you tentatively slipped your hands into his. You gazed down at them, amazed at the sheer size of his palms compared to your own.

“Thank you for supporting us, even if we aren’t performing anymore,” V said, never looking away from your face. “If our music has helped you even just to smile, then it’s all been worth it.”

He squeezed your hands and your eyes began to fog up. You tried desperately to hold them back, not wanting to cry in front of your idol. But alas, you weren’t able to hold them all back. As one slipped down your cheek, you managed to recover your voice again.

“I-I remember watching your seven year anniversary video... It made me smile a lot,” You said, laughing softly to compensate for your crying. V let go of one of your hands and reached to your face, gently swiping away a few tears with his thumb. Everything inside you turned to mush and you knew that you be screaming and jumping in circles once you got home.

“I’m glad,” Came the response and you tried to suppress the blush you could feel rising in your cheeks.

“I-I do have one question, though. If that’s okay?” You asked timidly.

“Go ahead.”

“In that video, I remember you sa-saying that you wanted to be friends for a long time and be able to see the o-others have kids. Do any of them have any?”

V smiled again, wiping away a few more of your tears. He looked a little nostalgic and thoughtful for a moment. It was like he was contemplating how to answer before he did.

“Seokjin has a daughter, and his wife is expecting another although we’re not sure of the gender quite yet. So far, he’s the only one. He, Yoongi, and Namjoon are married. Hoseok is engaged and Jungkook is dating...” He trailed off. “And Jimin...”

You felt your stomach tighten once more. Jimin?

“Wh-What happened to Jimin?” You asked anxiously. You weren’t sure what you would do if something bad happened to Jimin. God forbid he was... No. You cut off the thought before it could get worse. V sensed the nervousness in your voice and was quick to reassure you.

“Jimin is healthy, and... He’s my husband,” V murmured, getting a little tense as if afraid you would push him away. A sense of relief flooded over you, followed almost instantly by a wave of giddiness and excitement. You’d be lying if you said you HADN’T shipped VMin just a little after watching all the fan videos.

“Really?? Oh my God, that’s... that’s amazing!” You exclaimed, with a grin. V visibly relaxed and his smile widened again.

“May I give you a hug?” He asked. Instinctively, you turned to look for any paparazzi ready to capture the moment and start rumors. You had to mentally smack yourself and remind your brain that he didn’t constantly have cameras all over him anymore. Even so, you scanned the roads, but in the shadows of the evening, you saw no one.

“I-If it’s alright with you... sure,” You murmured. You tried to loosen up as much as possible, but you still felt your shoulders tense as V’s arms wrapped around them. Timidly, you returned the hug. His cologne enveloped you, smelling woodsy and comforting. More tears stung your eyes, but you fought to hold them back this time.

The hug lasted a bit longer than you had expected, but you weren’t complaining. Eventually you two separated and you had to lean against the wall again as your knees buckled once more.

“You can call me Tae. Or Taehyung. It doesn’t matter,” V offered. You couldn’t stop smiling. A shy nod was your response and he laughed again at your suppressed excitement. The evening grew darker and Tae looked up at the rising moon.

“Can I walk you back to wherever you’re staying?” He asked, “I’d feel much better if you didn’t walk home alone at night.”

Another nod.

As you two started the walk towards the hotel, Taehyung was good at keeping conversation up and filling the silence when your voice stopped working out of sheer shock and happiness. Slowly, you were becoming less shy, the feeling of actually being friends with him taking over the sense that he used to be an idol who people looked up to.

Time went by all too soon and you were in front of the hotel sooner than you liked. Tae looked up at the building and then down at you.

“You’re visiting?” He asked, sounding surprised.

“Yeah... My flight home leaves in two days. I’m here with two of my other friends who ALSO happen to be ARMY,” You replied, a bit sadly. Tae once again looked like he was deep in thought. A moment later he looked back at you. Your mind still was unable to comprehend the fact that you were talking to THE Kim Taehyung. He typed something into his phone and a minute later, a chorus of quiet ding!s sounded out of his phone. He smiled happily at the screen and looked up at you again.

“The whole group is here to visit Jungkook, so if you and your friends are free tomorrow morning, me, Jungkook and my hyungs can take you three to have breakfast. It’s not often we find ARMY nowadays and since our schedules are much less cluttered, we like to do nice things for the ones we DO find,” He asked. This time, HE sounded shy. but you couldn’t be happier. You had to keep yourself composed, although inside you were bursting at the seams.

“Really?? Y-Yeah, we’re free!” You replied excitedly. You mentally cursed yourself for accidentally being too fangirly. But Taehyung didn’t seem to mind, laughing and letting out a small “awww” at your reaction. He held out a small strip of paper to you and upon taking and inspecting it you found a number. A phone number.

“You can text me if your plans change or if you need a ride. Or anything at all!” He said. You were speechless. Almost robotically, you carefully slipped the paper into your phonecase, where you wouldn’t forget it.

“One more hug?” Tae asked, holding out his arms. You smiled, the tears forming in your eyes once again. One more hug later, and he was waving to you as he walked into the night. You waited until you could no longer see him before letting yourself squeal and jump around in a circle, much to the confusion of a passerby.

You made your way blindly back to the room you shared with your friends. You burst through the door, a huge grin on your face and tear streaks on your face. they looked mildly concerned, but you ignored them.

“Guys, you’ll never guess what I’ve planned for tomorrow.”

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dropsofletters · 4 years

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ocean in neptune

title: ocean in neptune pairing: zhang yixing/reader genre: astronaut!au/strangers to lovers!au/sci-fi!au summary: the‌ ‌world‌ ‌is‌ ‌so‌ ‌spacious,‌ ‌billions‌ ‌of‌ ‌people‌ ‌just‌ ‌coexisting‌ ‌without‌ ‌knowing,‌ ‌something‌ ‌that‌ ‌could‌ ‌be‌ ‌bothersome‌ ‌to‌ ‌think‌ ‌about‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌mind‌ ‌of‌ ‌just‌ ‌a‌ ‌miniscule‌ ‌part‌ ‌of‌ ‌those‌ ‌individuals.‌ ‌however,‌ ‌just‌ ‌because‌ ‌we‌ ‌are‌ ‌smaller‌ ‌than‌ ‌the‌ ‌world‌ ‌in‌ ‌comparison‌ ‌doesn’t‌ ‌mean‌ ‌we‌ ‌can’t‌ ‌make‌ ‌the‌ ‌best‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌universe‌ ‌in‌ ‌us.‌ ‌this‌ ‌is‌ ‌what‌ ‌she‌ ‌learns‌ ‌from‌ ‌zhang‌ ‌yixing,‌ ‌aspiring‌ ‌astronaut‌ ‌and‌ ‌intergalactic‌ ‌personality,‌ ‌someone‌ ‌whom‌ ‌she‌ ‌wouldn’t‌ ‌be‌ ‌able‌ ‌to‌ ‌forget‌ ‌even‌ ‌if‌ ‌she‌ ‌tried. type: fluff/romance word count: 13,647

“Sometimes, I wish I could fly to another planet.” She utters, mind vacant while her voice is filled with emotion. “How would life be in Neptune? That sounds like a better place for me.”

Somewhere beyond her daily life, there were stars glistening brighter than the flicks of light in her eyes, calling out for happiness, holding all the memories of her past, her present, her future. It’s the hope she has that there may be a difference in the future. Enjoyment, happiness, so strong so amount of stress could ever move her, dizzy her, bring her to a state in which she ponders about the reality or the surrealism of life. Maybe, it is true that we are a simulation...that we are trapped in this little play-god game in which our problems are a simple particle that can be blown into the thin air. Sometimes, it just doesn’t feel like she is one in seven billion people, even more.

Her hand rests on the back of her neck, watching the speckles of dust that fly in the air thanks to the open curtains and the heat of the radiant star. Her roommate, a freshman in the nursing career, is looking for something in her room, exuding the typical image of someone who is not a senior, just like she is. Lea seems to be getting more hours of sleep, she has enough time on her hands to dye her hair, keep it tidy, she doesn’t wear scrubs everywhere she goes and still, she manages to move not sluggishly, as if her alarm clock is an energizer rather just an excuse to use in the morning.

She says this out loud, because someone like Lea wouldn’t understand what it feels like the not see the future clearly. In a few months from now, she’ll be a nurse. And...the story ends. just like that, no twists, no turns, no excitement, no beats to listen to as a soundtrack of her life, just boredom. It is responsible, something that she prides herself on, but at the same time, she wishes she could lay on this bed for a bit longer, sleep this headache through...even when it seems to be there most of the time. She wants to see something different, something outstanding, duller colors and voids that are not vacant of anything, filled with universes for her to meet.

The Earth is such a boring place.

Lea throws her sweater over her body. So, that is why her roommate is there, just looking for those pieces of clothing that are far cozier than what she wears on a normal day. It looks good on her, but the scrunch of her nose is definitely not a look when the younger woman takes her hand in between her cold fingertips, making her gaze divert from the miniscule beings around her simply to stare into her hazel eyes.

“What are you even talking about? Don’t say things like that, it’s weird.” Lea opts to say, inspecting her face for any sign of disconnection from her reality. After all, she is a daydreamer at heart, the type of person who believes more than thinking, dreams more than existing. “Oddly, you sound like that one girl in elementary that would be in love with horses. You’re in love with the universe.”

But that is a pretty, delicate title. She doesn’t mind dreaming of a vast universe, thinking outside the walls, waiting for that moment in which she stops hanging out on the floor and starts floating in the air, roaming with a purpose, the discovery of something that is far more interesting than her dull life. “I’m just saying.” She argues, feeling her roommate pull at her body until she is out of her bed. The coldness of her rug is unwelcomed, much more when Lea takes her time to place some obnoxiously cute, yet childish, pins on her hair, trying to adorn something within her. The frown doesn’t disappear with beauty, sadly. “I’ve always been connected to Neptune.”

Lea sighs, reaching for a hoodie inside her closet and taking another sweater out, placing it over her arms and covering her usual comfortable, dark clothing. “Okay, since you’re going to continue talking nonsense...what makes you believe you’re connected to Neptune?”

She squints her eyes at that, fixing the edges of her sleeves to pull them up higher and trying to take off the pins on her hair with a hand reaching up, but Lea swats it away before she could. “I don’t know.” It all started in an insomniac night, in which she had wondered where everything came from. Thoughts, dreams. How there is an inner voice inside our heads. It’s strange it can never speak up. Her curiousness has always been palpable, always ever-present. Some people ignore that need when they get older and she did for a while, until it visited her again...and she hasn’t fought against it ever since. “It’s empty. Cold.” Lea’s eyes soften at that, tilting her head to the side and making her short hair move with the action.

“You’re neither of those things.”

“Not me, but my life. It’s...I want spice, I want something.” She argues, moving her neck forward before pulling the hood of her sweater over her head. “Also, I used to call my first friend ‘Blue’...and guess what? Neptune is blue.”

Lea is obviously not convinced, and she may think she is some crazy woman trying to compare herself to a planet. An alien, but that is not exactly the case. Simple, she wants to know there is hope. She’s undiscovered, in one way or another, she hasn’t caught on what is her biggest potential, hasn’t exploded it, much less has she landed on her perfect moment in time. She’ll get there, eventually, but for now...she feels as if she is Neptune, too far away from the Sun to ever feel it, often trapped studying and working. For now, she is this...forgotten, ancient thing. What no one wants to explore. “Listen, I know this school year has been difficult for you...but in no time, you’ll be working and none of this will matter.”

“Not everything in my life should be about working, Lea.” She tries to guide her through her train of thought.

“Well, we could always go out partying and figure out if meeting new people helps you.”

New planets, all different, people really forget that we hold an entire universe inside of us. Lea doesn’t notice her mocking expression when she wraps her arm around her shoulder, bringing her out of the comfort of her own room. “I don’t want to meet anyone new.” She says. “...Is it so wrong I just want to find some purpose that is not working?”

Lea opens the door for her, the swoosh of air making her want to hide for a bit more, simply leave herself inside her room and draw, get lost in something that is not the stress of dealing with others. In big masses of people, just not what she is looking for. “No, baby, it’s never wrong.” She answers, trying to use the sweetest tone she can muster. She steals a glance at Lea, whose eyes really seem sweet...but maybe, she is just trying to get her to shut up. “But you promised me that you were going to help me out with learning the muscles of the deltoid area, as well as the function of the abdominal muscles...and I need you there to coach me as the professor gives some extra info.”

Right, because humans are a universe in their own...and that is exactly why she has become a nurse. To serve, to help, to be there but also not have to deal with the guts and sewing that is often involved in the medical career. Now she realizes it takes a little bit more work than she could have ever thought of. “...I never said I wasn’t going, I was just thinking out loud.”

“And you can do just that!” Lea says, a chuckle in between her words. “When we’re talking about muscles, though. Not when talking about Neptune.”

In the drag of her feet when she enters the unbeknownst area for younger nursing students, she realizes just how tired she is. Her fingers are rubbing at her eye, the soft glide of her fingertips against the skin almost soothing, hearing the sound of loud voices mixed with people joining in groups, typical when studying in masses. The white walls and polished desks remain intact, the whiteboard the main point with drawings of the human body with some muscles well placed, others just badly drawn. That is obviously the work of a student, most likely, but she is not there to judge, simply because she had once been there.

Once, years ago, she had taken a seat in those same desks. She had looked ahead with a question mark over her head, barely understanding what was going on. If anything, she worked her hardest to be able to understand more profoundly. At the time, she thought that would be it: studying, working, and then she’d feel complete. There was no other plan, no house to wish upon, no car to want, simply the recognition of her hand work. One day, that became tedious, insufferable, it made her feel shallow—everyone wanted something, and yet, she didn’t know exactly what it was that would add some kind of...interest to her life. More than a nine to five, more than a night shift, more than simply thinking in the same box of medicines, body parts, tendons, muscles, arteries, veins.

Beauty is in saving lives...but what is a life that has not been lived?

This time around, however, along with her favorite professor in her entire career—Mrs. Li, as she formally calls her—there are a duo of men. Around the same height, not outstandingly tall, turning their backs towards the entrance, which is exactly where she is standing. She sees pristine clothing, matched from head to toe in black, mostly simplistic clothing like a tee and some jeans. One of them sports tattoos, the most talkative of the two, the other doesn’t, but she doesn’t really pay attention much to them, concentrating on taking a seat far away from the students, but still close enough for Lea to as her questions.

She isn’t supposed to be there. She could be sleeping, but her input was highly requested by Lea and immensely accepted by Mrs. Li, who had endless appreciation for her. At this very moment, she could have been laying on her bed, still cladded in her favorite pajamas, too soft to ever be forgotten, legs sprawled in the comfort of the mattress. Nonetheless, she doesn’t get a break when she enters the classroom, barely placing her thighs down on the seat when she hears her name being called.

Once her gaze is lifted, towards the main desk to be exact, she sees Mrs. Li looking at her with a smile that is downright motherly and those men in black finally receive a face to their anonymous stances. One of them captures her attention as easily as it is to breathe in oxygen; something about his dark eyes in their sleepy habitat, like he could use a good night of sleep but beauty still exists within him, in its purest form, even through this fact. Maybe, what is enchanting are his lips,somewhat his bottom one turns into a pout when he doesn’t realize, not because of the plumpness but thanks to his facial expressions. When he tightens his cheeks ever so slightly, his skin dips in what seems to be a dimple, though it could be her imagination. His physique is excellent, too, lean with softly defined muscles. Not exactly a gym-rat, but he must have some kind of training.

In the way his belly dips and his body leans forward, there is masculinity. The kind that would have anyone swooning and she visibly feels her face heating up, but she lowers her face and walks forward to listen to whatever Mrs. Li has to say.

This one, she thinks, this one guy has to be the anatomic model. Someone whose body is often covered in the ink of a marker, serving as a three-dimensional version of what is in the books, enough for a student to be able to point out where the muscles are placed and where arteries pass, important for their career. If not, if she is even wrong—which obviously, she isn’t—, this would be a missed opportunity. The muscle definition is textbook written, almost as if he was crafted for the job, but this is all erased from her brain when Mrs. Li opens a folder over her desk and starts to talk to her.

Her gray hair was held in a bun, someone who is old enough to be jubilated, but she continues to work with fervor. Her sweetened expression is filled with botox, however, a contrast to her natural hair, though so softly done that it almost looks better than expected. “I’m so glad you came here today. I needed to ask something from you before we started the lesson.”

She tries not to look to the side, not to push her body forward and stand straighter to catch the attention of the man to her right, whose smell is now all she can feel, so musky, radiating from within, and she swears she can feel his gaze land on her for the briefest second. Though, it’s better not to ponder on this, nodding her head to what Mrs. Li just said. “Oh...yes, I’m sorry I’m a tad late. We had to walk here...and yeah...” It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she didn’t want to be there to start with.

At least, Lea had done something good. Had she not pleaded for her to help her out with this class, she wouldn’t have seen someone like...the prince by her side.

No one will be able to convince her he is, at the very least, of royal blood. This mightiness must belong to someone of class.

“No, no, no worries. I wanted to introduce you to someone whom you’ll share a lot of time with.” Mrs. Li complies, nodding her head towards the prince-looking man. Maybe, this is the universe finally adding some beauty to her day. “And you can say no, of course, but I know you’ll be super interested in this topic.”

The other man, the companion of the one that has made her breathe in deeply in order to keep herself calm, takes a seat on the anatomic model chair and that is enough of a reason for her to know that there is a bit of irony left in this world. “What would it be?”

“Yixing is a computer engineer. He is an astronaut of sorts and you know how much children love space, alien, astronauts...anything of the like.”

A name is given to her: Yixing. When she turns to look at him, she realizes that Yixing is looking ahead, listening intently to what Mrs. Li is saying, such seriousness imprinted on his face, but not the kind that is scary. He seems quite delicate, understanding almost. She clears her throat, returning her attention to Mrs. Li. “...And what do I have to help him with, Mrs. Li?”

“Well, almost no elementary student cares about nurses. They either want to be doctors or astronauts, but they never care about our career.” Mrs. Li points out, lowering her rounded glasses from the bridge of her nose. “So, since Yixing is the representative of the astronomy field in our city, he is used to giving presentations to college students and high school ones, not exactly children. I trust you to be able to help him and incorporate some interest in the students for the nursing career.” The excitement in her voice clearly shows that she is in love with exactly what she had picked in her life. She wonders what that must feel like… “I’ll be asking the kids questions after the event and I’ll make sure to reward you with some points in your thesis.”

Oh.

That sounds...clearly like a good idea.

Showing little kids the examples of hygiene and the nursing program must be easy enough. She hasn’t done it in the past, but it must be simpler than talking to university students like herself. “Ah, yes, I’ll work along with Yixing.”

“Perfect.” Mrs. Li speaks in a whisper, writing something down in her folder before smiling. “The presentation is in two weeks.”

“Alright. We’ll get it done.”

Though, the man doesn’t speak much, falling into the line of shyness. Mrs. Li softens her gaze, looking in between her student and a graduate of another field, clearly an astronaut in the making. She wonders what kind of plans he works with...or if his silence comes from endless hours at the job. “Yixing, don’t be shy. She seems like she bites, but she really doesn’t.” The comment makes her widen her eyes slightly, feeling Mrs. Li’s hands resting on her shoulders, dragging them to look at each other, just in time for her to speak again. “Introduce yourselves. The university has been trying to unite the science fields because we are supposed to work together. I want my two favorites of this educational plan to get along well.”

For the first moment since she got there, she gets to see his smile and she almost wants to say a small ‘aha!’ out loud. Right, she was, a dimple appears when he speaks with the slightest pout on his bottom lip, re-introducing himself with his first name and surname. “I hope we can work well together.”

She says her name, rolling it out softly, delicately, as if the space in between them is too close. In a world so big, they are there. In a word so big, she has found beauty within a set of eyes. How funny attraction is, hormones working to her odds, connecting in a singular form to bring heat to her ears, a small grin to her features, a simplistic flutter of her eyelids that is not meant to be flirty...but maybe, it is. “We will!” She tries to reassure, watching as he pats around his chest to get something, soon after reaching for his actual pockets and taking his wallet out. It’s not money that he takes out, obviously, but rather a small, thick card that shows a universe.

The concept of adorable, actually.

It reads his name, along with a number, a personal one along with the one from work. “You can always call me there. Text me to my personal number and we can work on our project together.”

“I will.” She answers, waving the card in the air and then, nodding her head. Don’t look at his arms, she tells herself, feeling her pupils and irises trailing down until she catches herself.

No.

This is a respectful man. Someone of importance.

...And yet, a star taken out of the sky itself.

What he says next catches her off guard, his eyes twinkling at the same time. “I look forward to it.”

How can she erase a smile from her face after that? How is it that the goodbye in between them doesn’t taste bitter, but it smells like the initiation of something...interesting? Perhaps, half of the lesson, she looks at the man that is standing in one corner, arms crossed over his chest, studying along even when he probably doesn’t understand the majority of the things that are being said. This intense gaze, like he really finds interest in the world, is what comes from a great listener. What makes an unforgettable person. What has her looking twice, or three times, or maybe even more. It’s embarrassing, yet so natural, like gravity.

As if, for some reason, time settled for them to meet, no longer running or going extremely slow, but following its natural flow.

🚀

Somnolence takes over her at any time, she wants to say it’s because something has just shut off in her body, but that is just an excuse to not blame it on her hard work. Even then, when the wind is so cold it almost burns against her uncovered hands, she still decides not to cancel the meeting she has, responsible as always. Her legs ache, not like a sting but as if they were asleep, moving her through such a spacious barrack. Everything looks...alive, machinery that moves with precision, lights that flicker in pretty pastel colors, screens that showcase information that she briefly reads while one of the receptionist walks her through the main hallway towards some darkened doors, further away from the space-cladded decorations at the center of such place.

The clicking of heels coming from the receptionist is different to her comfortable shoes, leaving her with a small question on the back of her head, wondering if she should have tried harder. Perhaps, wearing her scrubs and her hair on a messy ponytail isn’t exactly what the workers here consider proper, but they don’t spare her a glance. Machinery look as if they are alive here, but people seem more like robots. They move only when called, sat down on desks, it’s a repeated sound: staple, fold, put down; staple, fold, put down; it’s almost musical, rhythmic, it speaks wonders about how the world is so synchronized sometimes.

Her eyes inspect the last door, as black as the others, but somehow this one looks a bit used. There are fingerprints on the pristine doorknob, something she doesn’t notice in usual doors, but in these ones it’s inevitable not to. Everything looks so clean and yet, this is the peak of normality. The receptionist takes a napkin out of her purse with a huff, using it to wrap her hand around the doorknob after introducing a code, one that makes the device beep and the door open with a clear swoosh. The receptionist, one that she had captured just before the woman had to leave for home, turns to her with a serious expression on her face.

In most places, receptionist would welcome her with a smile. It’s the pleasantries of societal rules—

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Maybe, this astronomy agency should work harder on creating androids that could replace the overly petty receptionist. Instead, she shakes her head, pressing her favorite anatomy textbook to her chest. “No. Thank you for your hard work.”

Without anything else to be said, the receptionist bows and leaves, making her sigh deeply when she takes another look around. On the ceiling, pretty dots of some kind of glistening paint creates the imagery of stars on a dark surface, the same color of the night sky. This is the only thing that could be considered artistic in the glass-cladded, marble-based decorations, and yet, the oxygen inside her lungs seems to be insufficient whenever she looks at it. The moment of relaxation is cut short when someone cuts through the thin musical air, the sound of someone opening a door in quick mannerisms catches her attention, making her jump slightly when she turns to look at the source of such noise, coming from the door that the receptionist had just opened.

Yixing was standing there, black hair done a mess—it should give him the look of a crazy scientist, but rather, it looks cozy in a tremendously cold place. He holds the door in between his fingers, delicate just like his aura, an invisible halo glistening around him, bringing a sense of calm when he takes a simple breath out, mixed with a smile.

“Sorry, I thought it was a ghost. Someone opened the door and then, they didn’t come in and...that must have been you.” This is the first sign that Yixing doesn’t belong to a place like this. An outcast, she knows how it feels like, to be one of a kind in a world that seems to be so similar. He makes a bit of a commotion, absentmindedly of course, and he also believes in beings such as ghosts. No person of science would ever agree with that thought, and yet, he voices it out in such a place with dignity.

She studies his expression, and he still seems to be sleepy. This is normal for him, normal for her, two people who work way too hard and try to cover it the best they can, but when two people go through similar things, it is difficult to hide what can be seen to the eye. “It was your receptionist...I didn’t know I could enter.” She breathes out, tying to keep her voice levelled, but it’s a hushed whisper. She looks into his eyes, windows to the soul, and yet his hold a whole landscape to them. How is it that in a world filled with cities, traffic, skyscrapers and rushed matters, someone could—and does—hold nature in their gaze? She swears she sees flower bloom, the beginning of something, all in those brown eyes.

“Oh,” He moves to the side, extending his hand in a welcoming manner. “You can come in.”

“Okay.” She tells him, not knowing exactly what to say until she actually takes a few steps in and takes in the sight in front of her, around her, taking her to a new world. So, this is exactly what she has always been thinking of, how it feels like to be in a new dimension...and even the whole barrack couldn’t bring that sense upon her. “T-This is your office?”

“No,” He initiates his denial, bringing a frown to her features. “This is my home. I spend most of my time here, either way, and wherever I have my laptop is my home, so...”

This looks like how space really must be, full with life, yet hidden from the eyes of most people. A window shows what is outside, the parking lot in which she had been just a few minutes ago, but anything that could be out there will never compare to what Yixing’s ‘home’ looks like—let’s be honest, this is certainly an office—. Artistry is in the walls, in the painted galaxy that puts everything together, the soft neon lights that make the one light in his desk just stand out. There is a couch somewhere, deep purple, with a blanket thrown over it and a pillow. There are figurines, which she supposes are of trips taken around the world, from Paris to Rome, from Shanghai to Seattle. Everywhere. This is another fact that Yixing lets out, he likes being anywhere, travelling, he wants to make the world his home.

Maybe, because just like herself, he feels like he doesn’t belong most of the time.

The desk is dark, with a gray laptop over it that is open with a blinking document, the word-count legible enough for her to widen her eyes—the sight of forty thousand words scares her, and if projects are like this for computer engineers in the astronomy field, she doesn’t ever want to go to space. By its side, there is a mouse, some stacks of paper, a half-empty glass of water and huh, maybe that is why there is a small refrigerator somewhere in the office. He must spend a lot of time here, just like he said.

“This is so pretty...” She lets her voice trail, just like her gaze that roams through his office, hearing the shuffling of steps, the rustle of sheets and soon after, the noise of Yixing patting the spot on the purple couch. Her train of thought is cut off by that, turning to look at Yixing, who looks at her pleadingly.

“Take a seat.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking or instructing her, but with a curt nod she sits down, placing her bag down on the floor, resting her anatomy textbook over it, watching as Yixing crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you really like it?”

“It feels as if I was in space.” She compliments, though it doesn’t seem to get far as he gives a short chuckle, shaking his head when he reaches inside his mini refrigerator, opening the door in a swift motion and kneeling down to look in between the choices.

“What do you want? I have water, energy drinks, soda—” Looking at him feels like it should be magical. He is sincerely not like any man she has seen in the past. Maybe, in the realm of things, she could have met someone more handsome and she doesn’t quite remember—but none could ever compare to what he gives out to this world. This tranquility, utmost strangeness, beautiful and terrifically hypnotizing poise that holds his body together. Stars consist of the balance of forces and something about him is extremely balanced. The way he holds himself together, the sweetness of his gaze and yet, the professionalism in his tone.

“I’m fine with water.” She tells him, watching the water bottle being thrown into the air for her to catch. She does catch it in between her two hands, but her head collides with a soft thud on the wall behind her, making Yixing stand up quickly with widened eyes.

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Something about the soft, innocent hit must have lit something in the room. The neon lights get stronger, more prominent, not only bathing the room on their glow but a corner of the space becomes more apparent. Her attention turns to that place, in which Yixing holds what seems to be a Solar System model. Perfectly made, all hand-painted from what she could tell, highly beautiful in the way it rotates around the big sun. Even the moon is there, planets from Mercury to Venus, to Mars and Neptune, Pluto a little dot that brings a smile to her face. She hadn’t seen those since probably elementary school and a sense of nostalgia washes over her when she stands up.

“It’s okay.” She tells him, uncapping the lid of her water bottle and bringing it up to her lips to take a sip. Only days before this, she had texted Yixing to meet up with him when they were both free, taking almost a week for them to come to a conclusion, but she wishes she could have come here sooner. “If hitting my head made that light up, I’ll do it again.” That brings laughter out of him, one of his hands going behind her head and patting the surface soothingly, as if that would help her.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, trailing after her when she gets closer to the animated model. It moves slowly, not quite fast, but it’s soothing in the way it rotates. “I’m surprised.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you’d be the one to like space.”

“I didn’t care about space until earlier this year.” She confesses, running her fingers over the model of the earth, right over the moon, then down the next planet. “I realized there is more to life than my problems and my own world, so...whenever I feel like my problems are too big or my ambitions too high, I remember that I can dream as highly as I can. There is more over the sky, after all.”

Yixing hums at her words, making her look to the side when he rests his hands on his knees, pushing his weight forward to look at the model with her. The neon lights create shadows over his face, the glimpse of a stubble bringing a smile to her face. “Those are big words,” He tells her.

“Mrs. Li told me you’re an aspiring astronaut. Nothing should ever be too big for you.” The way he raises his eyebrows, half-amused, half-touched, is a clear warning label in her head. If fire alarms could sound inside her own thoughts, they would have, mainly because she feels as though she hit something deep within him, not hidden, but also not shown to the world.

“I aspire to be an astronaut...that doesn’t mean I am one.” He says, voice informative, a little bit careful. “I’ve never been as good as I should be to become one.”

But...his body training, clear through his physique, as well as the way he seems to breathe in and out facts about the universe should have been enough. Wanting to be there, with so much passion, should have been enough. “Ah, don’t say that. Your time will come eventually—”

“Don’t think so.” He says in between a chuckle, straightening his back and turning towards his desk. “So—”

“Wait, why don’t you think so?” She asks, following after his steps when he sprawls his body on his seat, turning on his rolling chair and looking at her with his hands resting on his thighs.

“I’m not the kind of man they want in the moon. I’ve been told I just lack the it factor.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving hindsight in his dream of wanting to go to the moon. Huh, maybe that is why only the Earth’s moon is shown on the Solar System model in his office. “I don’t know what that is, but I’ve tried for the past four years. It’s not easy, let me tell you.”

She takes a seat beside him, dragging a plastic chair that she sees somewhere in there before sighing. “It’s never going to be easy, and you probably think I am being nosy about this and hell yes, I am.” She replies, resting her palm on top of his desk. “But you’re different from the rest of the people working here, Yixing. You don’t have to be like the rest to reach your dreams.”

With a smile on his face, Yixing nods his head. “Fair enough.” He tells her, closing up after thanking her in a brief mumble. The mood is ruined now, apparently, maybe she had thought about him in such a high caliber, maybe she shouldn’t have said anything, because now Yixing is smiling at her, breaking away his gaze before clearing his throat.

So, this is probably the time to start with their project. The exact reason why she is there.

“What is your favorite planet?”

“Huh?” She asks, tilting her head to the side and undoing her hair from its ponytail, earning a glimpse of Yixing who studies the way her hands flex when she ties it up once again. “Neptune.” She breathes out after finishing, earning a hum from Yixing.

“You seem like a Neptune girl.”

Joyful laughter makes her way through her lips. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Yixing drags his seat closer to his laptop, taking the mouse in between his fingers and searching for something. His blue cardigan falls off one of his shoulders, showing his typical all black outfit. “It’s not often picked. There is nothing interesting about Neptune.” So, is he meaning to say she is not interesting or is she taking this wrongly? “No rings to be seen in pictures, though it has some. No exceptional moon for people to write songs about, though it has fourteen of its own. It’s blue, it’s plain...and somehow, I feel like you’d see the good in it.”

She has never thought that far. She only thought she had a connection with it, something that has always brought her closer to feeling as if it is her favorite in the Solar System. “...That is better than my reasoning. I thought I liked it just because.”

“I have some projects I’ve written about Neptune. I made studies on Triton, too, its most important Moon.” Yixing is rambling now, clearly in his zone and matter of interest. He clicks away, pressing on a document and opening what seems to be a picture application. “These are the latest pictures taken of Neptune.”

Blue and soft gorgeousness appears from the screen, bringing a sense of peacefulness to the room. Or maybe, Yixing just makes her feel relaxed. However, she asks him: “If mine is Neptune, what is your favorite planet?”

“Earth.”

“...Earth?” Surprise takes over her voice, lifting her tone just slightly when she looks at him. “Do we live in the same Earth or have I just experienced a different one than yours?”

“There’s beauty in this world.” He tells her, so sincerely that she may start to believe it. She had wanted to run away for so long, simply live something stronger, and someone like Yixing, who has gotten the chance to see so much from the Earth, gives the world love poems with the way his eyes twinkle when talking about it. “We miss it most of the time, sure, but wake up one day before five in the morning. Just wait for the sun to rise, don’t listen to the world, just see the Earth come to life and then, you’ll know what I mean. The Earth is beautiful, only that we decide to make our lives less in contact with that part of nature.”

Talking about life, the universe, the planets and Earth comes easily for them, so much that when Yixing has to go back to work and it is too late for her to stay there, they have done nothing. She doesn’t say anything, not wanting to make Yixing feel bad when he says his goodbyes to her and thanks her for a great night of conversation. Dragging her feet away from that office is difficult, but she feels energized, enough to have five hours of sleep and wake up at five in the morning, waiting just the slightest hour before the Sun rises.

It’s then when she sends Yixing a picture of the sunrise, breathtaking and hopeful. It means a new day is starting, a new opportunity to change the world, to be better, to try harder. Maybe, she had forgotten that it wasn’t always about getting home and complaining about her day, but it was about thanking the world for having a place to stay, a life to live. For a walk, for the talks, for the goods and the bads.

That is when she learns whoever is not sending Yixing to the moon doesn’t realize how intelligent he is.

🚀

“Nurse!”

She stands up, moves to search for the voice that wants her and finds a patient.

“Nurse!”

Only later, someone else calls her and with rushed steps, she has to attend them. They are sick, after all, better make their stay at the hospital a bit more bearable. This is the cycle that she lives through, an empath, trying her hardest to help others even if her own back is weighted in responsibilities. She can take another hour away from her nights of sleep, she promises, she can say yes to another project, it doesn’t matter. She can do it, she really, really can.

Which is the exact reason as to why she hopes, wishes, prays that Yixing understands when she is an hour late to their meeting at his favorite local library. The traffic doesn’t help, definitely, and even though her apology text was well received with a tiny ‘don’t worry!’, she still worries. Guilt is eating at her skin, when she gets off her car and closes the door harshly behind her, thanking her sneakers when she rushes towards the entrance of the library, the dark night long gone when the golden lights of the place clash over her body, making her squint in the slightest, though not stopping on the loud stomps of her feet against the tiles, looking around for that set of black hair, those softened eyes and the dimple that appears in her daydreams every once in a while.

“Shh!” One of the librarians tells her, a redhead with a finger up her mouth, frowning deeply with a book in between her fingers. She halters her steps at that, noticing how the noise must have multiplied because—duh, this is a library. She mouths an apology, looking around the spacious library and almost giving up on finding Yixing there. Of course, it is late, he probably left because he had better things to do. She must be a nurse, but he works for one of the biggest agencies in the country—

Someone mumbles her name in a shout, making her turn to the source of it. She catches him then, seated by one of the tables, the only person beside a group of students still seated there at that hour of the night. Yixing smiles at her and for a moment, the soreness of her feet is bearable, the beeping in her ears stop, her blood pressure goes to a normal state. She realizes she can breathe normally again, that taking less than a millisecond to breathe in and out is not healthy, that her ribcage should expand comfortably. Drained, she feels, no amount of smiles from him could ever take away the physical tiredness, but she feels a tad better now that she notices he stayed there for her.

She takes the seat across from him, always putting her bag down, letting out a long sigh when she finally can sit down without her heart racing with the thoughts of being responsible. “Tired?” He asks, to what she can only nod. “What did you do today?”

No one ever asks that. Not Lea when making dinner at the same time that she gets home. Not her closest friends. Not her family. Hell, no one wants to heart about how much she has done because that’s just her life—too boring, too busy, too cramped. It takes her by surprise, so much that she struggles to find words: what had she done in that entire day to be so drained?

She starts talking, then, oh, she notices a while later that there is something to unveiling about the way she speaks to him. There is not a single layer of her soul that remains untouched by him. He seems to listen intently, hand pressed to his cheek, blinking at her knowingly when she gives too much information about how many coffees she had during the day, or simply when she speaks about certain sickness that he probably has no idea about—Yixing may be well dosed in his field, but the term Leishmaniasis is something he questions immediately. He listens, to her lunch-breaks and how she had to deliver two projects today, to how her phone’s data died on her when she needed it the most and how one of the doctors scolded her mainly because they were having a bad day.

As a listener, it feels nice to be listened to. She closes her mouth after a while, wondering what the hell she is doing—they have a project to finish, after all. “...But enough about me, we’ve already lost a night of working and we shouldn’t do that again.”

Yixing hums. “We can do both.”

“Why don’t we talk about you, then?” She asks, opening up one of the anatomy books she had brought with herself. Something simplistic, perhaps one of those encyclopedias used for elementary school students. She needs to take out the adult mindset and think like a student.

“What do you want to know?” He asks, tapping his fingers against the surface of his own book when she clears her throat.

“Why do you want to go to the Moon?” She questions, searching through the book with half of her mind paying attention to the task at hand.

“I woke up one day and wanted to do it—”

“Then, why haven’t you gotten accepted as an astronaut to have preparation for any future trips?”

Yixing’s face softens at that, eyelashes brushing against his under-eyes with a blink. He chuckles a bit to himself, as if he finds it funny. “I’ve failed the test for exchange of programs three times,” He announces, something that she wouldn’t have imagined coming from him, but when he lifts his gaze, there is an embarrassed smile on his features. “The first time around, my physical training just didn’t match up to what they were looking for. I worked out harder for the next test the following year, but then I had failed my language test by a point. Third time...I don’t know, it just didn’t happen.” He says. “It was all my fault.”

When her hand reaches forward, all she can think about is that she wants to touch him. In the way of a caress, in the warmth of letting him know that there is nothing wrong with falling every once in a while. It may be weird, much more when she gives a simplistic pat to the back of his hand. “You’ll get there, Yixing. You just have to believe in yourself.” She tells him, voice a mere blow of air, maybe because he felt too close or because they are in a library. “I believe in you. I’ve failed tests, as well, and look, I’m on my way to graduation.”

His lips quirk up at that, because it really isn’t the same and she knows it’s not that simple. Instead, he simply nods his head. “Let’s hope I do get there.”

“No, no, no. You’re saying it wrong.” She says. “You will get there.”

“I will get there.”

“Louder.”

“I can’t say it louder...we’re in a library.”

“Oh, right.” She hisses, biting down on her bottom lpi and moving around the table until she is seated next to him. His parted thighs connect with the skin of her scrub-cladded legs when she shows him a page with small drawings of the human body, understandable for younger students. An idea bubbles inside of her, explodes in colors and shapes, in the soothing manner of wanting to make him feel better. Or even more, of wanting to get to know him for who he is. “What about the anatomy of an astronaut?”

“Huh?” Yixing lifts an eyebrow. “What even is that?”

“It could be a concept. In average circumstances, we all have similar bone structure, which is what is mostly taught to kids in a very surface level kind of way. However, that’s boring. If we have you in, in your almost-astronaut glory, they’ll be interested.” She speaks, motioning with her hands as she speaks before she notices his gaze resting upon hers. “No? Is it a bad idea?”

“I trust you with that idea.” Yixing confesses, though he quirked an eyebrow. “But I’m still not an astronaut. I can pretend to be one for the kids, but don’t use that title on me.”

She scoffs at that, leaning back on her seat to talk to him. “Zhang Yixing,” She feigns a radio-station type of voice, lowering her voice and earning a shushing sound from the librarian. There is not a lot of people to bother here anyway, why is she so pissy about it? “Another man to get to the Moon. We can watch him take his first steps there—and oh, is he doing the Moonwalk there, as well? What a revolutionary picture!”

Yixing laughs at her antics, shaking his head before nudging her side. “You’re...out of your mind.”

“A little bit. I have to add some spice to my days.” She comments, though she rarely is like this, more inside her brain, much more boring. This is the power he holds over her, the one that pushes her to have fun.

“I see...” Yixing mumbles, pointing at the textbook in front of her. “So, what is this idea of yours?”

“We get you in an astronaut suit and I point the easiest bones in the body. Ribs, sternum, femur. Stuff like that.”

“I see...” Yixing mumbles. “And I could add some information in there, too. As in historical knowledge. First man on the Moon, first spaceship ever created...last planet, because Pluto is a planet, but Neptune had taken its place for a while.” He speaks his knowledge into the thin air. “It’s funny. You like Neptune and you got here last. Is this some kind of foreshadowing?”

“Yeah, it’s a metaphor.” She sarcastically adds, pointing with her chin towards Yixing’s laptop. “We could do some research before writing down the planification for the class. There is only a week left, after all, we need to get it over and done with.”

“Alright, Neptune.”

“Let’s just work on the project, Moon Dude.”

The comment brings a smile to her face, simply because this is the nature of silliness. This is what she needs, not to take everything so seriously for once and yet, still remain level-headed while having fun. The way he giggles at her words has her sighing, a grin the epitome of happiness on her face. Yixing is truly something else, but she doesn’t know exactly how to explain it.

🚀

“Did you know Neptune has the strongest winds in the Solar System?”

She doesn’t know about Neptune, but right now, after being a classroom filled with kids—some interested in what the adults were saying, some not—she is surprised to see how the weather has changed. The thin cardigan she had opted to wear is definitely not enough to cover her from the dense wind that clashes against her body, making her cling to the edges of her cardigan to keep it in place. Wrong, the wind just inflates the back of it, creating obnoxious fabric sounds that have her giving up against the strength of it.

Yixing doesn’t seem equally as bothered, even though he has changed from the astronaut uniform he had wear earlier and now he is back to his simple olive sweater. His hair is a mess under his beanie and god, maybe the smile on his face is messy, too—he doesn’t care that the wind blows on his face or that his words are abit misunderstood under the sound, he simply walks the two of them to their cars after one hour of endless attention to a group of children. He must be happy, a good mark on his folder back at work and she will probably earn some points on her thesis, too, but there is something else bothering her in the back of her mind. Maybe, that is why she is so annoyed.

The truth is that, while the little help in her thesis is of huge importance, she has grown used to texting Yixing. Sometimes for their project, sometimes because she is bored. Speaking comes to them easily, albeit a bit shyly. He says a fact that she has no idea about and she conquers with her own thoughts. A collision of two stars, some would call them, different worlds coming together but that is far from the truth. Yixing, to her, is like an individual of another galaxy—not because he is rare, quite the contrary, because he is otherworldly, in the way his normality causes her to feel more at ease.

She quirks an eyebrow at that, pressing her hands against her hair to keep it in place. “Is that so? Are you meaning to say your astronaut uniform got us to another planet?”

Yixing jokes around, resting his hands on each side of his beanie, pulling it off his head and ruffling the dark strands with his fingertips. “It’s always different when you’re around, like I’m on a different place.” He tells her, placing his beanie on top of her head before securing it in place. His hands are secure, just like him, everything about him screams protection. One day, when she was around twelve years old, she had gotten to see a shooting star—she made a wish, stupid at the time, she doesn’t quite remember it, but it never came true. From that day on, she thought it was a myth...and yet, there he is. The man who makes her feel like there is magic beyond our universe that we, as humans, will never understand. We either search for the truth or live it, unique for all. “Maybe that’s why I’m disoriented right now. I don’t even remember where I parked.”

“No way.” Her voice is filled with joy, she doesn’t even recognize it at this point. Far too busy, cladded in responsibilities, she thinks her professionalism has washed away any thoughts of a normal human being. “...You’re lying, right?”

The tint of red on the tips of his ears definitely does not come from the cold or the unexpected gush of fresh air that hits at their bodies as they near her car. “I’m not.” He laughs, using his chest mostly to create the sound before haltering his steps right behind her car. On his tiptoes, he inspects around the parking lot. “But I’ll find it. Maybe. If it was not robbed, that is.”

Her hands reach for his bicep, pressing it to catch his attention and the man lowers his gaze. Yixing’s curious gaze softens at that, a brief smile appearing on his features. The touch seems to clash, like an explosion in the sky. “Give me your keys.”

Tranced, something that she doesn’t quite understand the reason for, Yixing takes his keys out of his pocket before giving them to her, their palms brushing together and bringing a shiver down her spine. “Here.”

“Watch and learn.” She tells him, lifting the keys in the air and pressing the button down. At several directions, she presses it until she hears the beeping sound of Yixing’s car, some meters away from hers.

“...It was that easy?” Yixing asks, chuckling at his own innocence.

“It was.” This time around, when she gives him back his keys, she studies his body. Yixing is lean, long torso, marked by his hard hours of training thanks to his dreams. His hips are slim, not quite tall but he has some height to him. His eyes shine so brightly they could blind anyone and his dimples are still one of the main reasons she smiles back. “It’s cold.” She whispers, trying to find an excuse or a conversation to keep him for longer, feeling his hands reach for hers as he cups them, bringing them up to his lips and blowing on them.

The small raspberries of wind he throws to her skin are not necessarily all she needs to feel warm but the care he has, the way he treats her, is enough to bring some heat to her face. This feels odd—she has gone through this before; relationships, liking someone, sometimes reciprocating, sometimes not. She is an adult, it should be easier to give up and simply accept her attraction towards Yixing, but just like Neptune, she finds it hard to break through that ice barrier she has around her. “...Get into the car, then.” He says after pressing a small kiss to her knuckles, his own face now filled with embarrassment. He chuckles, mostly at himself, before she joins him on that.

Better to laugh and enjoy the now than think about the consequences of tomorrow. Once he lets go, she wonders if their conversions will die down eventually. They most likely will, she has only known him for a little bit over two weeks—that is better than getting attached. “I’ll go, since you don’t really want me here to start with.”

“I never said that.” He answers truthfully. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

After taking her own keys out and opening the door to her car, she leans her elbow against the roof and looks at him with a smile on her face. “I guess,” She confesses. “I had fun, even when we were teaching the stupidest thing to a group of children. I’m sure they had fun, too.”

Yixing nods his head, waving his hand and almost sending her off until he called her name out loudly. She widens her eyes at that, looking around in case anyone is looking at them after his high voice. “...Uh, I was wondering if you’re free on Saturday?”

She touches her head, realizing that his beanie is still there and that, in front of her, there is a man who looks confident, yet a bit ashamed. She hums, tilting her head to the side slightly. “I work on the morning, but I’m free Saturday night, hopefully.”

“I would like to take you to the planetarium. If that is alright with you.” Yixing prompts and she swears there is a whole battle going on inside her stomach, going up to her chest and bringing some kind of warmth. Not only that, it feels tingly, as if no amount of oxygen would ever be fulfilling enough for her lungs.

“What are we doing there?”

“Going out?” Yixing asks, albeit a bit confused on his tone.

“So...”

“A date.”

Her lips part, her eyebrows lifting up as embarrassment fills her, lowering her head slightly and hiding it from him as she chuckles. “Oh, I get it now.” She replies, looking up at him while her forearm covers half of her face before humming. “Alright, yes, a date. I see it now. A date, how could I not have noticed?”

“If it’s alright with you, though, no pressure—”

“Yixing, oh God, it’s okay!” She exclaims, wishing that the wind is enough to wash away any insecurity left in her body. “I’ll go out on a date with you.”

“...Rea—? Fine.” Yixing utters, biting down on his bottom lip before pointing at his car. “I should leave, then.”

“Maybe.” She says, getting one foot inside the car before waving her hand at him. “Text me the details, alright?”

“I will!”

When she closes the door, she has to lower her body into the seat, enough for Yixing not to notice her when she covers her face with both hands and feels the biggest smile creeping up her face.

Life is hitting her up with surprises, the ones that has her story twisting to better ways. Maybe, a distraction is necessary...and Yixing is willing to give just that.

🚀

Colors don’t exist in such place. White. Blue. White. Blue. That is all she sees, with some glimpses of gray, as she moves through the stories for the afternoon, trying to get all bits of information inside her brain. The office of the nurses is too cramped, heat pooling at her lower back as she pushes her hair away from her face. Which one was the patient that needed surgery—was it the forty-five year old woman or was it someone else?

She releases a sigh, wondering why in the world the nurses in the shift were gone when she needs them the most. She couldn’t simply leave the doctors, alone, that is but being a freshman in a group of sophomores and senior brings her to not being taken into consideration much. A raged sigh leaves her lips, looking for a pen to scribble down the bits of information she should give to the nurses at the shift once they enter, but her pen is long gone. Perhaps, in her purse...or wasn’t it behind her ear?

The stress is starting to get to her.

She throws her head back, focusing on breathing in and out and calming down the migraine that has taken part on half of her face. Her body feels dirty, as if all the hard work had accumulated in sweat and heat, and perhaps that is the exact reason as to why she is freaking out. Her lungs expand, though anxiousness takes over her when she can’t take enough oxygen in, releasing it in a long swipe before she stands up. Right, her purse, she shouldn’t be procrastinating, the faster she finishes her job, the quicker she can get out of there.

Her purse is opened at that time, cringing at the sight of crinkled papers, plastic bags of snacks she had that she should throw out and an empty bottle of perfume. It has been long since she realized that she has lost her grip in her life—when she lost passion for her job before she even graduated with a degree, when she stopped hanging out with her friends, when waking up seemed like a task and her bed was far too inviting. Instead of thinking about what she could change, she opts to favor working. One day, this will all be worth it—it’s not wrong having one dream or one goal, and once she reaches it, maybe normality will make her feel better. SHe is one with her job, after all.

She takes another pen out, clicking on the tip and testing it on her hand before she realizes that her phone is vibrating. Ignoring it is what she does, Saturday is probably the day in which Lea bothers her the most. She’s a younger student, she has all the time to go out. When she moves towards the main desk once again, she writes down the information from the patients looking to enter the operating rooms.

The sound of the door opening takes her away from her thoughts, side-eyeing whoever had entered the office. With a plastic bottle dangling from his hands, Li Wei makes his way inside. One of the younger nurses, for sure, a sophomore to be exact. Most of the workers there are enchanted by his lively personality and youthful looks, from the way his cheeks fluff out when he smiles and how that seems to contrast his delicate body. The scrubs look on him as somewhat fashionable, his collarbones peeking from underneath the fabric when he leans against the desk with his hands, calling her name in a tutting tone.

“You shouldn't be here. It’s not your shift to attend.” Li Wei adds, one of the few people that feel somewhat bad that she has so much work on her shoulders. It is as though she can’t say no, afraid of the lights of recognition as someone of bad blood.

“Tell that to Nurse Wong. I’ve been here since the morning and she hasn’t looked away from her damn phone all day.” Just like in any hospital, she can’t bring her tongue to stop itself when anger finally overtakes her, releasing a harsh breath through her nose. “Can’t she just divorce from her rusty husband and stop treating me as if I was worthless?”

Li Wei’s eyes soften at that, hearing the sound of a phone vibrating in the far distance. “Go home. Leave this as is. If she doesn’t do her job, the directors of the hospital will realize. It’s already eight at night, go home, I tell you.” He walks towards her purse, taking a look inside his his fingers parting slightly, though she doesn’t pay attention to that as she scribbles down the last few names in her list.

“I—I’ll do it. I just need to make sure—”

“You need to pick up your phone,” Li Wei says after reaching inside her purse, showing the screen to her with a smile on his face. “A guy is calling.”

Yixing.

Zhang Yixing.

The same guy that has called her for the past thirty minutes and she has ignored. The one that has probably been waiting for her two hours in the planetarium.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Her mouth can’t stop cursing when she holds the phone to her chest, looking down at the picture she had taken of Yixing during their presentation with children. She picks up then, pressing the phone to her ear and sighing. “Yixing, hi. Listen, honey, give me three seconds. I am doing...something—” She speaks quickly, barely hearing him utter an ‘okay’ before she looks at Li Wei with wide eyes. Sure, he may not be a friend but she needs one of those right now and if she doesn’t talk to anyone about this, she’ll die. Of embarrassment, not physically, but draining in its own extent. “If, for some reason, I had told a guy that I was going out on a date with him and I am super into him but I forgot because of working a shift that isn’t mine, should I: One, lie; or two, say the truth?”

Li Wei crosses his arms over his chest after fixing the glasses that were falling down his face. “Did you really miss a date for covering Nurse Wong’s shift?!”

“You know how badly I have tried to be on her good list!”

“Listen,” Li Wei starts, his usual playful voice long gone as he nears her, seriousness shining in his eyes. “This is a job that will drain you. You’ll have other nurses stepping on you just at the same time a doctor wants you to help. You have lives to take care of and patients to see, but you have the right to live your own life, too.” The honesty in his voice has her eyes shaking. To her past self, she wants to tell her to stop draining herself for a dream that she had simply decided on a rush. To the woman who was once lost, she wants to teach her how to find herself. She doesn’t want to live her life pleasing others, bringing so much pressure over her body that she needs to forget about herself. What she needs is to find fun in life, instead of pushing it to someone else’s agenda.

She resumes the call then, closing her eyes tightly as she speaks. “Yixing, sorry. I totally...I had so many patients with me and the senior nurse left me alone with all the work, a shift I didn’t have and—I don’t think I can make it now, but if you wait for a bit longer, I’ll be there—”

“I’m back home. Don’t worry.” Though, Yixing’s voice is tender, almost like he doesn’t want to speak too loud. He sounds serious, that tinge of his voice long gone.

“Yixing, I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, I—I should have called you. It was stupid of me.”

“Yes, you should have called me.” Yixing announces, then the sound of moving and a sigh captures her attention. “But I get you, you’ve given all for your job and you’ll continue to do it. I can’t shame you for that.”

When is the last time she has enjoyed her free time? When is her free time not consisted of sleeping hours? This thought alone has her scrunching up her forehead, resting one hand against it when she hears the tremble of her voice. “I feel really bad, Yixing. I really wanted to go.”

“We can go again anytime. When you can...and when I can.” The sound of scribbling against the paper behind her has her feeling far too much. She doesn’t know how much she can take, when the sound of the city is too loud, when the music is too much, when the world moves too fast and she feels like she can’t hold on. There is light in the sky and yet, she never stops to see it. “Really, I didn’t call you for that. I called you to see if you’re okay—”

Once again, she feels like apologizing. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry—”

“Stop apologizing.” Yixing finishes, wisdom filling his voice when she hears the sound of him rotating on his chair. She knows he is in his home, seeking light in his neon. “As long as you’re happy, I’m okay. Do your job, your growth is more important than a date—and I’ll wait here.”

Your happiness. God, what makes her happy? She can hear the sound of some city-like song in her head, but still that doesn’t bring happiness. Is being lonely what she wants? Or does she want to be accompanied? Is leaving a choice or does she have to stay? Too many questions go through her head when she decides to leave, picking her purse up and placing it over her shoulder, taking her written list and getting out of the office.

“Can I confess something?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t know if I’m happy,” She tells him, noticing how her voice is hushed as she moves through the packed hallways, holding tightly into her notes when she continues. She bumps into a few people in the way, as well. “It feels as though I speak and no one listens. It feels like I have never made a decision in my life. I don’t know where to go...”

“You don’t have to...run.” Yixing tries to look for a word, before his voice lowers. “It’s beautiful here. It’s up to us to make our world beautiful.”

“But there are others,” She says, opening the door to one of the consulting rooms, peeking in to see if Nurse Wong is inside. “Others will always ruin it for you.”

“But...I don’t know if what I’m thinking makes sense, but...it’s up to us to cut people away from our lives. They’ll always be there, in essence, in space, with us...and I haven’t quite mastered how to not pay attention to that. Maybe, life is not supposed to be perfect. No planet is perfect, either. That’s part of life.” He tells her, making her smile tightly at the sound of his voice. The beach, perhaps, no, he’s more like the moon that connects with the ocean. He’s something so profund, so tranquil, the movement of waves that take her away, the depth of it. He’s too much for her to take.

“Anyways, thank you.” She doesn’t want to talk about it too much, opening another consultation room and seeing Nurse Wong seated on the desk in front of the doctor, using her phone and the incredibly fast Wi-Fi. “When can we go out again?”

“...I can in two weeks. Friday.”

“Alright. Friday at six, in two weeks?”

“Sounds alright.”

“I’m sorry, again—”

“Don’t be.” Yixing says. “It happens.”

“I’ll have to hang up now, okay? I’ll text you.”

“Please, do.”

The moment her phone rests inside the pocket of her scrubs, she sniffles in order to capture someone’s attention. Nurse Wong doesn’t look at her until she tosses the folder to her chest, pressing it against the other woman before humming.

“Nurse Wong, I’ll call you out on your procrastinating. It’s not up to me to be working here at this time and I’m losing my free day while covering someone else’s shift that is obviously healthy and here.” She calls out, watching as Nurse Wong raises her thin eyebrows. “Do your job, Nurse Wong. It doesn’t look good to have people waiting or dying because you don’t do anything.”

“Excuse—”

“Yeah, yeah, excuse you. I don’t have the time to listen to you now, sorry. I need to take a shower and go to sleep, I haven’t touched the bed properly in two days.” She whispers, crossing her arms over her chest and sending a goodbye to the dumbfounded doctor before throwing the door behind her.

No one seems to notice her when she gets out there in the hallway and she releases a smile when she realizes just exactly what she had done.

The reigns of her life are hers.

🚀

Triton.

Who is Triton? What is it?

The first Neptunian moon to ever be discovered, as well as a mythology character. This goes unnoticed with how much she is enjoying herself. The planetarium casts its lights softly, speckles of light just falling on top of gigantic ceilings, dark to the point they seem endless, tiny in comparison to the two people talking and walking around. The choice is unusual—most people there are children with their families or perhaps some students that just happened to have to go there with their teachers for some project, but none of them are on a date. One would think of this as weird, enough to cut through the connecting thread in between them, but the enchantment of the situation is palpable.

Through and through, Yixing is a romanticist. The tune of a piano is not the same for him than it is for anyone else. He speaks and talks of seriousness, even when he doesn’t say it verbally. This image is presented to her in the way his hand rests on the small of her back as he beckons her forward, helping her look at the most valuable of possessions in such place, pointing out the Solar System three-dimensional imagery, casted by a projector and making her reach her hand up as she traces Venus, Mars and lastly, Neptune, gigantic in comparison to her. Even a small planet is bigger than what she accustomed to on a daily.

Something about him that night is naturally appealing—not that he has never been so, but she can slowly but surely feel herself getting more comfortable with Yixing, less awkward, enough for her to rest her chin against his bicep every once in a while, looking for seats for them to listen to the very obviously underappreciated speech and presentation, the last one for the day. Not a lot of people are there but Yixing is excited, rambling about how when he was in high school he had attended to one of these and it had only helped him further into getting in the field he is part of today. This goes on to show that in life, nothing is ever left to randomize itself.

Perhaps, he doesn’t notice the way she is staring at him, like he is a god of Greek mythology, just as if he was a moon, as well, one of the many that exist in the galaxy. Comfort is brought upon her, rare to find in people nowadays, in which the mere glide of his fingertips to slot against her own is enough to bring a smile to her face and paralyze her heart all at once. His hands are delicate, perhaps from reading too many books or from passing them through his hair a lot, she doesn’t know, but it materializes him perfectly.

He’d never realize that night was one of the best she’s ever had.

His forehead shows three lines, all thanks to his sleeked back hair, as in the front row of the spacious classroom-like spot they sat. Yixing is concentrated in the topic at hand and she is, as well, she’d continue to be had it not been for the distraction of his hand slipping into hers, as if it belonged there. He had talked so much, ranted and played around, showing a silly side of him that would have anyone at his astronomy agency scrunching up their noses, but the way Yixing spoke about the universe only made their Earth more beautiful. His denim jacket is perfect against his skin, it matches his defined jaw, the depth of his cheeks until they land on his lower lip. It creates a shadow there, one that not even the projector can dismiss in such a place, and when he widens his eyes at something, she knows he is surprised. He smiles like a kid, like he has seen this for the first time and she can’t bring herself to pretend she is not interested when he turns to her and points at the projector with excitement.

“Look, there is your place.” Yixing excitedly adds, making her turn to the old man giving the presentation, the room dark only for the rotating image of Neptune. Her date leans to her side until his perfume mingles with her breath, creates a new world in between the two when he lets out a sigh. “Neptune has never been more beautiful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen this presentation a bunch of times,” Yixing complies, putting their interlocked hands on top of his thigh. “But never with someone who believed in me. Someone who cared.”

His words soften her heart when she leans back, watching the moons moving around Neptune, how the presentator suddenly talks about Triton. Huh, she briefly recalls Yixing mentioning it at the beginning of the night. “Triton and Neptune are quite romantic, I’d say.” She wants to laugh at that, had she not been too entranced in this atmosphere she would have, but the world is quiet, yet so full at the same time. So gorgeously crafted, not only on Earth but everywhere. Where had everything gone wrong for malice to exist? “Neptune captured Triton, a bit melancholic and sadist at that. Triton will be torn apart by Neptune’s gravity one day, but it stays there and Neptune is the same. They slowly but surely get closer—”

Like Yixing and herself.

The difference is that she’d never forgive herself if she ever were to hurt a soul that pure.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She tells Yixing, looking to the side only to see his face moving centimeters closer. Yixing quirks an eyebrow, asking her to repeat again before she utters the same words. His face relaxes at that, chuckling as he nods his head. “I mean it. This is the most beautiful date I’ve ever had.”

“It’s not over yet. I still have to take you to dinner, don’t speak as if you’re leaving now.”

“I was just complimenting you.” She says, not noticing that she had looked up and down his features, capturing his eyes, two stars; his nose, the flag of her perseverance that leads to the discovery of a new land: his lips. She’d never kiss him now, not here in front of everyone, but damn her for liking this man so quickly, whiplash at its finest.

“...You deserve this and more.” He swears, like he really means it, before turning to look at the presentation once again.

One would think it could not get better than this. Yixing could not possibly pick a nice restaurant without the expensiveness getting in between them, making the atmosphere seem far too smug, but he did. He picked something nice, simple, private enough for the two of them to talk freely—this time not so much about space but about themselves. He laughs freel,y like he doesn’t give a damn and the best part? It’s that he does. Yixing is not afraid to show that, just like anyone else, he feels and aches, he works too hard, he sometimes fears of not reaching his dreams.

This is why it feels lonely when, seated inside his car as he drives her home, their hands are no longer interlocked and the sound of music fills the background, highlighting the sound of the rain outside. It had even rained, this must be a clear sign that she should stay with him, perhaps a little bit longer for them to finish the night together, but Yixing is too much of a gentleman, not even doing the slightest bit of movement to kiss her. Her head lulls to the side, admittedly tired, looking over at Yixing that continues driving and talking about something. She is listening, she promises, but she is longing for him even when he is there.

Like gravity, she is pulled towards him and he is pulled towards her, hopefully.

The sight of her apartment complex has her sighing, wondering where the night had gone when she simply says with a smile: “I had the best time of my life.” She confesses, something that has Yixing chuckling.

His hand rests on his steering wheel, the other tightening on hers when he shakes his head. “I’m glad, but don’t lie to me. It’s a pretty silly date—”

“It was perfect.” She tells him, reaching for the button to undo her seatbelt when Yixing stops her, placing his hand on top of hers to get it undone.

“Let me help you.”

“I can get out of it myself, you know?”

“I know,” But he doesn’t give more of a reasoning, instead, he undoes her seatbelt and lets it snap back to its place, staring up at her and about to ramble about something when he realizes the closeness between the two. She could count every hair on his head from how close he was, his eyebrows furrowing together when his lips part slightly. Dry. They are dry and not on hers and that is unfair. “Sorry.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, ythinking that maybe he would think of this as a hug instead of an attempt to kiss him. “Don’t apologize so much.”

“Look who’s talking.” Yixing prompts, letting his dimple become visible as the rain clutters his window with blurry mirroring images of them. His hand rests on top of her thigh, the soft breath he lets out fanning on her face and when he looks down at her lips, she gives the final step.

Never had a kiss felt like peace, like finally, she was alone in the world...but not completely, but with someone else. Accompanied in her own loneliness. Never had someone touched her thigh with the tip of his fingers quite like he did, like there was nothing more precious than the time they shared together. His head tilts to the side, slow and somehow addictive, making her release a breath when she pushes her body forward, wanting to feel the heat of him in such a cold night. Two more kisses and he’s dropping her off at her own door, giving the third one in front of her apartment before he is off, a dumb smile plastered on her face.

She wonders if hers matches his.

It probably does.

There is an ocean in Neptune, a water planet, that is engulfing her in the depths of continuing with this story. Something tells her that fighting against the world with Yixing will become much easier and maybe, one day they’ll get to their dreams. For now, why would she want to leave if Earth has its beauties, too?

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