#Do you eat your chicken slightly pink in the center no you make sure that shit is done

[siliquasquama]

What I hate about steak (yeah I know nobody asked) is that it's not done well if it's well-done. What the hell do you mean I have to eat it slightly raw in the center?

[crystalgood]

Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400 degrees is a great way to get a juicy, flavorful meal. It's important to know how long to cook pork loin in the oven at 400 degrees in order to ensure that it is cooked through and not undercooked or overcooked. This guide will provide you with the information you need to cook pork loin in the oven at 400 degrees, including the recommended cooking time and temperature. With this information, you can make sure that your pork loin is cooked to perfection every time. How to Achieve Perfectly Cooked Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F Cooking a perfectly cooked pork loin in the oven at 400°F is easy and delicious! Here's how to do it: 1. Preheat your oven to 400°F. 2. Place the pork loin on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper or aluminum foil. 3. Rub the pork loin with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. 4. Place the pork loin in the oven and bake for 25 minutes. 5. After 25 minutes, insert a meat thermometer into the thickest part of the pork loin. The internal temperature should be 145°F. 6. Once the pork loin has reached the desired temperature, remove it from the oven and let it rest for 10 minutes before slicing. 7. Enjoy your perfectly cooked pork loin! What Temperature Should You Cook Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F? Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal! The internal temperature of the pork should reach 145°F for it to be safe to eat. To ensure that your pork loin is cooked to perfection, use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature. If the thermometer reads 145°F, your pork loin is ready to enjoy! How to Tell When Pork Loin is Done Cooking in the Oven at 400°F Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal! To make sure your pork loin is cooked to perfection, you'll want to use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature. The internal temperature should reach 145°F before you take it out of the oven. Once the pork loin has reached the desired temperature, you can remove it from the oven and let it rest for 3-5 minutes before serving. This will allow the juices to redistribute throughout the meat, making it even more flavorful and juicy. If you don't have a meat thermometer, you can also check for doneness by cutting into the pork loin and looking at the color of the meat. The pork should be slightly pink in the center and the juices should run clear. Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal. With a few simple steps, you can make sure your pork loin is cooked to perfection every time! What is the Best Way to Prepare Pork Loin for Oven Cooking at 400°F? Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal! Here are some tips to help you get the best results: 1. Preheat your oven to 400°F. 2. Rub the pork loin with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. 3. Place the pork loin in a roasting pan and add a few tablespoons of water or chicken broth to the bottom of the pan. 4. Roast the pork loin for 25-30 minutes, or until the internal temperature reaches 145°F. 5. Let the pork loin rest for 10 minutes before slicing and serving. Following these steps will ensure that your pork loin is cooked to perfection! Enjoy! How to Make the Most Flavorful Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F Cooking a flavorful pork loin in the oven at 400°F is easy and delicious! Here's how to do it: 1. Preheat your oven to 400°F. 2. Rub the pork loin with a mixture of your favorite herbs and spices. Some great options include garlic powder, onion powder, paprika, oregano, thyme, and rosemary. 3. Place the pork loin in a roasting pan and cover it with aluminum foil. 4. Bake the pork loin for 30 minutes. 5. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes. 6. Let the pork loin rest for 10 minutes before slicing and serving.

Enjoy your flavorful pork loin! Bon appétit! What is the Ideal Cooking Time for Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F? Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy meal! The ideal cooking time for pork loin in the oven at 400°F is about 25 minutes per pound. For example, if you have a 2-pound pork loin, you should cook it for about 50 minutes. To ensure that your pork loin is cooked through, use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature. The internal temperature should reach 145°F before you remove the pork loin from the oven. Enjoy your delicious pork loin! What are the Benefits of Cooking Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F? Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal! This method of cooking is easy and efficient, and it yields great results. Here are some of the benefits of cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F: 1. Quick and Easy: Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a quick and easy way to get a delicious meal on the table. All you need to do is season the pork loin, place it in the oven, and let it cook for about 30 minutes. 2. Juicy and Tender: Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F yields a juicy and tender meal. The high heat helps to seal in the juices, resulting in a juicy and flavorful pork loin. 3. Versatile: Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a versatile cooking method. You can add different seasonings and herbs to the pork loin to create a variety of flavors. You can also use this method to cook other cuts of pork, such as pork chops or pork tenderloin. Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F is a great way to get a delicious, juicy, and tender meal. Give it a try and see for yourself! How to Avoid Overcooking Pork Loin in the Oven at 400°F Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F can be tricky, but with a few simple tips, you can avoid overcooking it and enjoy a delicious, juicy meal! First, make sure to use a meat thermometer to check the internal temperature of the pork loin. The USDA recommends cooking pork to an internal temperature of 145°F. Second, keep an eye on the cooking time. Depending on the size of the pork loin, it can take anywhere from 20 to 40 minutes to cook. To avoid overcooking, check the internal temperature of the pork loin every 10 minutes or so. Third, use an oven thermometer to make sure the oven is at the correct temperature. If the oven is too hot, the pork loin will cook too quickly and become dry and tough. Finally, when the pork loin is done cooking, let it rest for at least 10 minutes before slicing. This will allow the juices to redistribute throughout the meat, resulting in a juicy, flavorful pork loin. With these tips, you can easily avoid overcooking pork loin in the oven at 400°F and enjoy a delicious meal! Conclusion Cooking pork loin in the oven at 400 degrees is a great way to ensure that the pork is cooked through and juicy. The cooking time will depend on the size of the pork loin, but generally it should take about 25 minutes per pound. It is important to use a meat thermometer to ensure that the pork is cooked to the proper internal temperature of 145 degrees Fahrenheit. With proper preparation and cooking, pork loin can be a delicious and healthy meal.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 5) - Date Night

Summary: The reader and Jensen go on their first fancy date together before attending a nanny happy hour the next night. The reader makes a new friend there to Jensen’s dismay but someone from the past will come along and change things between the new couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, lying, angst, mention of past child abuse/assault, fluff

A/N: This a rough one, not gonna lie. Enjoy!

________

Friday Night

“Y/N, I’m downstairs when you’re ready,” said Jensen through your closed bedroom door.

“I’ll be there in five,” you said.

“See you in fifteen,” he chuckled before he walked away. You walked back into your bathroom, looking over your hair in a bun. It looked like a freaking messy bun actually. You should have done it down and in big flowy waves instead. You pouted and smoothed out your dress. Of course you were bloated and you’d nicked your leg more than once shaving earlier. 

“It’s Jensen,” you said to yourself, taking a deep breath. “He’s never even seen you in makeup before. You’re fine. He’s not gonna say anything.”

You forced yourself out of the bathroom and slipped on your heels, your clutch in your hand. You wobbled for a step or two on the carpet but did better once you were out in the hardwood hall. Ten seconds later you were downstairs, heading over to the foyer area. 

“All set?” you asked, Jensen spinning around. He smiled as he stared, eyes looking you up and down more than once, not even trying to hide it.

“Y/N, you look pretty,” said Arrow as she rushed in from the family room. 

“Yes she does,” said Jensen. “We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okie dokie,” she said, wandering off with a little wave.

Half an hour later you were sat at a table in a very nice restaurant, Jensen tugging on his collar. His cheeks were slightly pink but it wasn’t from the cold outside. 

“So...what’s a good wine?” you asked, sliding the drink list over to him. “I’m not really good with the names.”

“You like red or white?” he asked.

“Normally red,” you said. “You?”

“I like a Merlot,” he said. “You like dry?”

“Sure,” you said. 

“We’re not going dutch tonight you know right. This is all on me.”

“We can go dutch, Jensen.”

“I asked you out and this is fancy, even for me. My treat, okay?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said, looking around the restaurant and over in the distance to the bar. “You know I could go for a lemon drop actually.”

He smirked and set the list down, a waiter coming by. He ordered a gin and tonic for himself while you got your cocktail, Jensen breaking off part of a breadstick from the basket. 

“Bread’s good,” he said with his mouth full.

“So. Ackles,” you said, picking up a piece and tearing off a chunk with your teeth. He stared and started to laugh to himself. “Ah, there’s my sweet guy.”

“Thought you were gonna say boyfriend for a second.”

“This is our second official date,” you said. “So. Boyfriend.”

“Yes girlfriend?” he chuckled.

“What’s an appetizer look like in a place like this? Like a tiny cube of cheese with some dressing they’re gonna charge twenty bucks for or something like that?”

“You’re goofy,” he said, a big smile stuck on his face. “Uh, they probably have something like that. There’s normally some kind of bread olive oil bowl option.”

“Fancy people eat like a starving college student apparently,” you said. He tried to hide his laugh as your waiter brought over the drinks and a pair of menus. “Excuse me but can you recommend an appetizer? We’re both new to town and are wondering what you think is a good choice.”

“You can’t go wrong with our sourdough and seasoned oil dipping sauce,” he said. You glanced at Jensen and smiled. “The artichoke spinach dip and tartar crackers are also quite lovely.”

“Do you have anything with a little more substance? We’re quite starving,” said Jensen.

“The fried calamari and crab cake poppers combo is a great option,” he said.

“What’s calamari?” you asked.

“Squid, miss,” said the waiter.

“We’ll have that combo,” said Jensen.

“Perfect. I’ll put that in and be back shortly to get your dinner orders,” he said. He took off and you made a face at Jensen.

“Squid?” you asked.

“It’s fried. Trust me, it’s pretty good,” he said. “I could go for a good steak. You see a filet on here yet?”

“Uh,” you said, eyes scanning the page and seeing most everything was something you’d never heard of. 

“There it is,” he said. “I’m getting that and scalloped potatoes. See anything you want to try?”

“Uh, why does half of this seem like it’s a foreign language to me?” you asked. Jensen looked at his menu and chuckled.

“That would be because it’s in French. We’re in Canada and this is a french restaurant.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. He got up and leaned over the back of your chair, glancing at the page.

“These are soups and salads,” he said, pointing near the top. “Sandwiches. Pasta. Main dishes down here.”

“Uh, maybe pasta?” you said. He knelt down and read off the dishes to you one by one, your waiter returning by the time he was just finishing.

“Anything I can assist you with?” he asked.

“I’ll have the fettuccine alfredo with chicken please,” you said, handing the menu to him, Jensen returning to his seat.

“Face principale?” he asked. You stared at Jensen and he smiled.

“She doesn’t speak French,” said Jensen.

“My apologies miss. What would you like for your main side dish?” asked the waiter. “Steamed vegetables, scalloped potatoes, lobster bisque-”

“I’ll have the vegetables,” you said. Jensen ordered and the waiter went to get your appetizer, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think twice about the French thing.”

“Kinda hot that you know French,” you said. “I should try to learn it if we’re gonna be up here for a few months.”

“I’m an idiot and I learned it so you’ll do just fine picking it up,” he said. 

“So where’d you learn in the first place?”

“I’m stuffed,” you said, plopping your napkin from your lap onto the table awhile later. Jensen took the last bite of the piece of mouse pie, licking his lips as he finished. “This might have been the best alfredo I’ve ever had.”

“I enjoyed it. Mostly I enjoyed listening to you talk,” he said. You blushed and looked away, Jensen letting out a small hum. “It’s funny. Doesn’t really feel like just a second date, does it.”

“No, not really,” you said. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re friends first.”

“Well I definitely like being friends with you,” he said. 

“Me too, Jensen.” 

“Want to get out of here?” he asked. You smiled and nodded, the two of you outside a few minutes later wrapped up in your coats. Your feet were cold in just your heels, Jensen’s arm wrapping around your waist when you almost slipped more than once. It was slow going back to the car, especially when it started to snow lightly.

“You know, that dress would still look hot with winter boots,” he chuckled. 

“Sorry,” you said.

“No apology necessary. I got freaking dress shoes on and my feet are cold. I can’t imagine how you’re holding up,” he said.

“The perils of being a woman,” you said.

“Well, no need to impress me is all I’m saying. I ain’t looking at your feet anyways,” he said.

“Oh well in that case I’ll wear some nice baggy sweats next date.”

“Please do,” he said. 

“You really don’t care, do you.”

“I think you look beautiful tonight. But I think you look beautiful every night. You did your hair and makeup and this is stunning, don’t get me wrong. But she’s not more beautiful than the girl at home with hair tossed up all messy walking around in oversized shirts and leggings. It’s like flowers. Both are pretty but one isn’t more pretty than the other.”

“Where the fuck did I find you?”

“At my house,” he chuckled. You whacked his arm and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Almost back to the car. I’ll blast the heat for us when we’re in there.”

“Thanks Jensen.”

“Thank you for the date, honey. I mean it. We’ll do it again sometime. Promise.”

Saturday Night

“Your boyfriend seems pissed,” said Brandon. You sipped up the last of your beer, glancing over to the bar where Jensen was tapping his finger. 

“He’s fine,” you said. “So any good parks around the west side of town?”

“Center Grove is always my choice. Good playground, nice area, cops routinely are around. Parking can kinda be a bitch sometimes but it’s worth it in my opinion. My kids love it.”

“You’ve been their nanny for five years you said?”

“Mhm,” he said, knocking back the last of his drink. “Shawn’s mom is their mom’s best friend.”

“Oh. So you had an in already.”

“You know long term gigs are the way to go in this job,” he said. “Not too many American girls come up here. Your accent is cute.”

“Is it, eh?” you chuckled.

“Like I’ve never heard that one before,” he said, Jensen walking back with two beers and a clenched jaw. 

“You okay?” you asked as he sat it down in front of you.

“I’m fine,” he said, taking a long sip. Brandon slid off his seat and made a face. 

“I need a refill anyways. Nice meeting you Y/N. We gotta hang some time,” he said as he walked away.

“For sure,” you said, Jensen rolling his eyes behind his back. “Jensen what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“Well you obviously have a problem with Brandon.”

“I don’t have a problem with him. I have a problem with my girlfriend flirting with another guy.”

“I was not flirting. I’m trying to make new friends. It was your idea to come to this thing tonight anyways.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed.

“Excuse me?”

“In case I wasn’t clear, I’m not the kind of guy where I’m okay with you dating multiple people at once. I don’t get that not exclusive shit.”

“I’m with you and only you. I was being nice. Geez, let’s just go,” you said. You got up and pulled your coat on, bumping into a guy on the way out. He turned and apologized, staring at you a little long.

“Y/N?” he asked, a big smile on his face. “My Y/N?”

“Dad?” you said, his face much older looking than you remembered but his eyes still the same.

“Dad?” said Jensen. You brushed past your dad and outside, Jensen hot on your heels. 

“Y/N,” your dad said as he left the bar. 

“Stay away from me,” you said. “Jensen I want to go home right now.”

“What-”

“Right fucking now!”

He held up his hands and you walked around the block to the car, getting inside and Jensen taking off.

“So your dad’s alive huh,” he said. You stared out the dark window with crossed arms. “So is everything I know about you bullshit?”

“What?”

“Is literally anything you’ve ever told me true? Your dad obviously didn’t die when you were a kid. All those late night talks about family and shit, you just like to fuck with people or something?”

“I was not flirting with Brandon you asshole. You didn’t need to know my whole life story the second I meet you.”

“Oh. Okay. Just your fake life story then, huh?” he said. You shook your head as he got stuck at a red light. “If I can’t trust you, I can’t employ you let alone date you.”

“Whatever,” you said. He drove in silence until you were out of the city, going along quieter roads. You were close to the house when he suddenly turned right towards the local park and stopped in the lot, putting the car in park. He touched your arm and you turned, Jensen leaning over and kissing you roughly, far more roughly than you thought he was capable of. You blinked when he pulled back, Jensen looking you up and down. 

“He won’t hurt you.”

“What?”

“Did he walk out on you and your mom?” he asked. “You told him to stay away from you. Sort of shouted it at him. Maybe you lied but maybe...I’m sorry I got jealous of Brandon. I’m still scared and I think you’re still scared too and that’s okay. If you lied about your dad, I’m gonna trust you have a good reason for it. I’m sorry for what I said. I trust you and I don’t want to know what my life is like without you in it.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “I forgive you.”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said. “We can just go home, okay?”

“Why’d you pull over?”

“Because I knew I didn’t mean it and I knew I overreacted. I said I’d mess up when we started. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I’m 42 with three kids. Brandon is thirty and young and stronger than I am and can go out to the bar whenever he wants. You have options. You don’t have to settle for me.”

“If I’d wanted to settle, I’d have married my ex. What I wanted was the guy that forgives me for not telling him the whole story cause I’m not ready to say it. I want the guy that makes me happy and feel like I have a teenage crush but it’s deeper than that. You’re not the settle for option, Jensen. Why don’t you get that?”

“The last time I felt like this, I married the girl,” he said quietly. “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“You didn’t get the time you deserved with her. It doesn’t mean it ended badly. You loved her and she knew it. She wants you to be happy again, whether it’s me or somebody else.”

“See? That’s the shit that tells me...it tells me to keep falling for you. I’m so sorry for how I acted tonight.”

“I lied about my dad and not a little white one either,” you said with a nod. You turned away and felt his hand on your cheek. “So much of what I told you was a lie.”

“You don’t have to tell me the truth right now, Y/N.” He stroked your cheek and you glanced over, meeting his soft green eyes.

“My mom died giving birth to me,” you said, Jensen nodding. “He hated me for it. Hated me. He would hurt me when I was a toddler. When I was four he started doing...other things.”

“Four?” he breathed out.

“I didn’t know it wasn’t normal. Not until I started school. I was scared though so I never said anything. One of my friends mom’s realized what was going on when I was over playing one day. He went away and lost custody. I went into foster care briefly and got adopted when I was eight. Single mom who’d lost her husband young. That’s my mom. She was a kind person. Ray was always good to her and to me. But I asked him not to adopt me after she was gone and he knew it was because I was still scared of a dad again. Being a nanny, I’ve met fathers that look at me and I just know what was going through their head. I reported him and kinda fucked up their family situation but-”

“That was the right thing to do,” he said.

“I know it was. I’ve just...I’ve had more than one guy and even a woman walk in on me changing or into my bathroom and it’s like, she’s just the help, nobody cares. They don’t touch so it’s like...what can I even do? Then my house before this one, the guy tried getting in my shower with me and I shoved him and he broke his arm and I just don’t understand why so many people think I’m just a piece of meat. Even my ex never got why it bothered me so much. They didn’t touch me so what was wrong with it? He just didn’t get it. He would get mad if I wasn’t in the mood for sex. Nobody ever fucking gets it except you who I lied to and pissed off tonight and without a word of an explanation why, you say you won’t let somebody hurt me. Do you get why you’re the opposite of fucking settling Jensen?”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“I know you won’t Jensen.”

“How?”

“Because you’re a good person. You’re so gentle and kind. I know you’re strong and tough but I see it everyday. You should never be worried about how your kids will turn out. If they are half as good as you are they’ll be fucking great people. Your daughters aren’t gonna put up with shit and your son is gonna be kind to everyone and say fuck you to the toxic guys out there. I can already tell the kind of person you are through them and it’s a good one. A really good one.”

“I’m not the only good person in their lives,” he said. You sniffled and looked down, Jensen’s hand sliding under your chin and tilting it up. “You don’t have to apologize for not telling me all of that. Never apologize for not telling me that. Okay?”

“I never told anyone about…the other stuff,” you said, wanting to look down but Jensen’s hand holding your chin up.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry it took you so long to find people that would protect you.”

“You mean…” He nodded and dropped his hand away, running it over your head. “You’re not gonna like, go back and kick his ass are you?”

“Want me to? I’m very tempted at the moment,” he said.

“I just want to go home. I could use one of those hugs right now.”

“Do you want to stay with me tonight? Just to stay, nothing more.” You nodded and he kissed your forehead, a tiny smile crossing your face. Ten minutes later you were home and the babysitter was gone, Jensen pulling you into his room next to yours. You blew your nose in his bathroom and washed off your face, lifting your head to find a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his shirts on the vanity beside you. He smiled as he ducked out, leaving you to change. You let your hair down and took off your bra before you walked out and saw his blanket on the opposite side of the bed. “Warm enough?”

You spun around as he walked inside and you nodded, Jensen pulling you into a hug. 

“I’m sorry for how I was at the bar,” you said.

“I was the one that overreacted, not you,” he said. You felt goosebumps on your arms and he pulled away to turn up the heat, nodding over to the bed. The covers were flung back and you climbed underneath, Jensen getting in on his side. His arm wrapped over your waist and pulled your chest close to his, face only inches away. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore. No one will hurt you again. I promise.”

You moved closer to him, resting your forehead against his.

“Remember last Saturday when we were on the trampoline and you talked about those safety nets,” you said.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re a really good net,” you said softly.

“So are you,” he murmured. He kissed the tip of your nose and you shut your eyes. “What’d you want to be when you were little?”

“A princess,” you said. He chuckled and you smiled. “I wanted a prince to come take me away and everything would be just fine.”

“Really?”

“Princesses were always happy at the end of the movie,” you said. “They got the boy and they were happy. Then I grew up and prince charming doesn’t exist.”

“Cause you’re not a damsel in distress. You didn’t need the prince to save you.”

“But the prince would have made life so much easier.”

“I’m partial to badass princesses myself,” he said. You opened your eyes and he was smiling.

“I’ve never noticed your freckles before.”

“They come out more when I spend some time in the sun.” You moved a hand up and traced under his eye, Jensen nuzzling into his pillow. “Make you a deal. If the badass princess saves me, the scared prince will save her too.”

“Okay,” you said. You kissed him lazily, Jensen smiling through it. 

“Do you want to be a nanny forever?”

“Not forever. It’s an easy way to feel like you have a family when you don’t.”

“Now you do,” he said.

“Jensen you don’t know if this will work out.”

“I do and you do and we’ll take it slow anyways,” he said. “Which is why I’m asking do you want to be a nanny forever.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe someday I won’t need one,” he said. 

“I thought about being an elementary school teacher when I was eighteen for a hot second.”

“You did? You’d be amazing.”

“Pay in Texas is crap though. I make more as a nanny.”

“If money wasn’t an issue though, would you want to be a teacher still?”

“Anything at all?” you asked, Jensen nodding, nose brushed against yours. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“You okay?” he asked, reluctantly letting you out of bed.

“I’m good. I want to show you something,” you said. You slipped out of the room and down the hall to the playroom, picking up a book. Jensen was sat up in bed when you returned and crawled under the covers. You handed him the book and he smiled.

“I don’t remember buying this,” he said, flipping it over. “There’s no serial code on it.”

“You can’t buy it. I wrote a children’s book and printed a few copies for myself,” you said.

“You wrote a book?” he asked, flipping through it. “Did you draw this?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jensen staring at you. “I don’t know if it’s any good. I never tried publishing it.”

“You want to write children’s books, don’t you?” he said, starting to read the story.

“I have a number of them written out. I would make up the stories for kids at bedtime and decided to write them down. It’s kinda like whinnie the poo, that age group, you know? Same group of characters but different stories,” you said.

“These are adorable,” he said, turning another page. You were quiet while he read through for a few minutes, Jensen smiling when he shut the book. “I’ve never read a children’s book where they deal with the loss of a parent.”

“The kids really like it,” you said.

“You should publish this. Seriously. It’s cute and I’m a grown ass man and it made me feel better about Dee.”

“It’s just a story,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I make stories for a living. This whole place would fall apart without stories. This is good. You should consider trying to get it published.”

“Maybe if that nanny job doesn’t work out I will,” you said. 

“Do you mind if I keep this?” he asked.

“Not at all. I gave it to JJ in the first place.”

“Thanks. I want to read this to the twins tomorrow,” he said. He set it on the nightstand and slid back down, pulling you with him. “Why’d the mom fox die in the story? I would have expected the dad wolf considering…”

“Wish fulfillment for a nice father,” you said. “Plus I like drawing the wolf.”

“I like him. He’s fluffy,” chuckled Jensen. “Is that why you asked if I carry a picture of my kids when we met?”

“I’m done with asshole parents. If they treat their kids like shit they sure as hell aren’t gonna treat me any better. You seemed like a good guy. Good guys tend to do that kind of thing.”

“I’m not always good.”

“Yeah, you are,” you said. You shut your eyes and nuzzled close to him, Jensen letting out a soft hum. “You okay? With me being here.”

“Very. Feeling better after everything that happened?”

“Mhm,” you said. “I’m still sorry I lied to you.”

“Did you ever lie about your mom?” he asked. “I mean aside from the fact she adopted you, did you lie about her?”

“No.”

“Then you didn’t lie, not really. I’m sorry it came out like that. You should have been able to tell me in your own time.”

“You still would have been angry,” you said. 

“I still would have come to my senses too. I’m not perfect. I never was.”

“I don’t want someone perfect,” you said. Your head rested against his chest and you let out a soft sigh.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and tucked it under his chin, adjusting the blankets once before he stilled.

“Goodnight, Jensen.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

[melancholymetropolis]

Cloud Nine

Pairings: Roommate! Hitoshi Shinso x Reader

Summary: The reader gets stood up and Shinso decides to make it up to her.

Warnings: Explicit Content. Porn with Plot. Slightly edited. Based off of this cover. All characters are aged up.

Author's Note: Hello to all! I have missed you guys. It's been a while. Finals have been kicking my ass but, I am back! This fic is a good blend of fluff and smut. Maybe a little bit of angst. If you would like to commission me, click here! I set a new goal, so please check it! Thanks for your support, it means a lot to me.

Word Count: 4500

The sound of the front door slamming shut resonated through the apartment, quickly followed by the echo of heavy footsteps trailing down the hall. They came to an abrupt pause; interrupted by the splashing of water in the sink and the ripping of a paper towel. He must’ve found the freshly baked cookies I left on the counter. The footsteps sound again but they stop short of my room. A firm knock rattled from my door; I looked up from my laptop and shouted “come in!” My roommate opened the door, appearing in front of me, dressed in his usual attire. Workout jacket and running shorts with a gym bag tossed over his shoulder. Shinso had already taken a bite out of the freshly baked cookie nestled in the paper, and tiny crumbs had been sprinkled around his mouth.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” he said as he dropped his gym bag by my door and took a seat in my desk chair. “I thought you had a date with that producer guy.”

“Yeah, I did,” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side. “But, he never showed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Shinso said before taking another bite of his cookie. He chewed it slowly before adding, “I had a feeling something was wrong since you baked.”

“I don’t only bake when I’m sad, So-so,” I replied as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“You’re right,” he took another bite of the cookie and swallowed. “You only make your comfort cookies when you’re sad.”

I gave him a quizzical look and he took it as an initiative to continue.

“When you’re sad or have a bad day, you always make double chocolate cookies with walnuts. And if you’re peeved, you add Nutella in the middle. Like today. So, if you don’t mind telling me what’s wrong, I’d be happy to listen.” Shinso finished off his cookie and brushed his mouth with the paper towel. His purple eyes gleaming up at me with concern.

“It’s just. . .” I crossed my legs underneath me and sighed. All the built-up frustration exploded out of me in three words, “Men are trash.”

Shinso’s face remained completely neutral; he didn’t even flinch at the statement. “How so?”

I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. “Okay, so last week, remember when I was wearing that super-cute outfit?”

“You gotta be more specific, you always wear cute outfits,” he said with a confused look in his eye.

“It was a Tuesday. I was wearing some bell-bottom jeans and a pink halter top that said ‘cherry bomb’. Do you remember that?”

“You had two buns on your head that day,” he added in recollection.

“I did! Well, I bumped into Justin on my way to the studio and we talked for a few minutes. Towards the end of the conversation, he gave me his number and asked me to dinner. I was ecstatic and practically skipped down the fucking street!”

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“So, we’ve been texting all of last week and this week. I am under the illusion that we’re on for dinner. All of a sudden, he doesn’t reply to my texts this morning. I brushed it off and continued about my day. I went to the agreed restaurant and waited an hour in my car for him. Texting him the entire time, just for him to give me a reply on my ride home.”

“What did it say?”

“‘Sorry, something came up.’”

“Wow. . . what an asshole.”

“I know! Such a fucking jerk.”

We stayed silent for a minute or two before Shinso rose from my desk chair and walked to my door. He grabbed his gym bag from the floor and turned back to me. “I ordered from that restaurant you like, down the street, once I saw the cookies on the counter. I figured you could use some comfort food. It’ll be here in a little while, so I’m going to take a quick shower, then we could eat together. If you’re cool with that?”

“Sure, that’s fine. I’ll see you when you get out,” I replied with a look of astonishment on my face.

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

The pro-hero exited the room and gently closed the door behind him. My eyes remained in that general area, seconds after he left. Processing all the information that he gave to me. Wakatoshi Shinso. . . a man that I cannot describe in words. But, if I had to condense it, to say what he was, all I could say is that he cares. So much about me. Before moving in together, he was simply a friend-of-a-friend. We were cordial, always said “hi” in passing, and never left a bad impression. So, when I found an apartment, and he needed a room, it was a no-brainer. Shinso was the ideal roommate. Quiet, calm, and collected. He always made me breakfast, even though he was always up significantly earlier than I was. If I was too tired, he’d tidy up my leftover dishes and straighten up my things. When I had my period and ran out of pads, he went to the drug store and bought me some. Including chocolate ice cream and painkillers. He doesn’t mind doing the grocery shopping alone and doesn’t complain when I leave my bra on the bathroom door. He wiped my tears when my boyfriend left me and brought me flowers the next day.

Shinso was perfect in every way.

I was lucky to have him in my life.

The doorbell rang and I rose from my bed and raced to the door. Just as he said, Shinso had ordered from my favorite restaurant, as seen by the menu poking out of the biggest bag. I gave the delivery boy a small smile and thanked him, before shutting the door and walking into the kitchen. I placed the takeout bag on the counter and began to take out all the items from the bag. He brought chicken parmesan, mushroom ravioli, fettuccine alfredo, vodka alla penne, and two garden salads. In the second, smaller bag, were two pints of ice cream and complimentary miniature cannolis.

“I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I got a little bit of everything,” his voice echoed throughout the room, causing me to jump.

“Jesus—” I looked up from the array of food to my roommate. Who was dripping wet and practically steaming from his shower. Grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, extenuating his sharp v-line. He was shirtless, which wasn’t something new, he often walked around the apartment that way; however, the droplets sprinkled about his bare chest were doing things to me. His damp hair was slicked back, combed out of his face. Shinso walked around the kitchen’s island and popped open the lid off one of the containers. The display of his bruised knuckles resting on the counter caused my insides to churn.

Maybe it was the way Justin ghosted me earlier, or maybe it was the way Shinso cared for me— the longer I looked at him, the more I wanted him to bend me over the sink and make me scream.

An intense blush flushed over my face and I instinctively bit my bottom lip.

Without missing a beat, my roommate placed his hand on mine and locked eyes with me. “Is there something wrong?”

“I. . . ugh. . .” I looked away from him and down at the ground. “I’m fine.”

I could feel his violet-purple eyes squint with uncertainty. Shinso gently squeezed my hand and released a sigh. “I was thinking about what you said about ‘men being trash’ and how Justin was an asshole to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you're looking in the wrong place."

I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed-out expression. Although his wet hair gave him a more refined aura. His cheeks highlighted his boyish charm. Shinso's hand lifted from mine and found itself underneath my chin. My eyes automatically snapped toward his and my breath got caught in my throat. He had an unwavering stare upon his face that made me weak in the knees. Shinso’s eyes slowly closed and brought his face closer to mine. I gripped his shirt and pressed a kiss firmly against his lips. Every muscle in my body relaxed and I felt his arm securely wrapped around me. I moaned against his lips and loosened my grip on his shirt. I dug my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

“I want you,” he groaned against my lips.

“Then, take me,” I replied as I untied his sweatpants. And kissed him again.

Shinso tore away and guided me to the couch. He gazed down at me, a questionable look in his eye. “Are you sure?”

I lifted the oversized tee-shirt over my head and tossed it to the side, My chest was completely bare, my ample breasts in the view of the towering athlete. “I’m all yours.”

Shinso’s eyes darkened. His demeanor was intense and serious. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted my legs to his waist. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he grunted before capturing my lips in a kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. My bare chest against his; my heartbeat in my ears and his body heat warming my soul. I wanted to be as close to him as I possibly could. I needed to be closer to him than I ever was before. “Take me to your room.”

Without hesitation, the pro-hero took long paces to his vacant space. He gently sat me on the edge of the bed and look down at me. “Open your legs.”

I scooted my by rear further on the bed and placed both feet on the neatly tucked duvet. My knees were facing the ceiling and my clothed womanhood was facing him.

Shinso swiftly dropped to his knees and brought his face to my inner thigh. Featherlike kisses sprinkled along the soft tissue and goosebumps ran up my back. When he got to my core, after taking his sweet time, he pushed the soft short and panties to the side before lapping the dripping center. My legs gently twitched and my eyes rolled back. His soft muscle continued to lap its sweet nectar and I swore I could see God Himself. After a short while, he had gotten bored of pushing my garments to the side, so Shinso tenderly removed them from my legs. I halfway expected him to rip them to shreds but I guess he was too gentlemanly for such savage behavior.

The athlete looked up at me with a wistful expression and asked a simple question. “Do you mind if I use my fingers?”

I paused for a minute and smiled. “Come here.”

Temporarily rising from his position on the floor, the massive man laid his body between my legs and hovered his face above mine. “Yes?”

“You use whatever you see fit,” I replied while looking into his eyes. “I trust you.”

Without so much as a second glance, Shinso walks to his nightstand and unlocks the bottom drawer. He pulls out a Hitachi wand, an eye mask, and bondage cuffs. “Are you comfortable with these?”

A blush dusted my cheeks as I looked at the items. “Oh my, I never knew this side of you existed.” I reached for the eye mask and placed it on my head. Then, I lifted my arms over my head and gripped the bedpost. I winked and finally said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Shinso turned to the top drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom. “I should’ve confessed sooner.”

I nodded with appropriate enthusiasm and widened my legs. “Please continue what you had been doing earlier. I want you.”

The athlete reached down to my face and pulled the eye mask over my eyes. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His feather-like touches littered against the right side of my body and I swore I could feel my senses come alive. I felt the bed sink in between my legs and his warm hands reposition my hips on the bed. “Hold your legs up for me, baby.”

I did as instructed and took a deep breath.

I could feel his hot breath fan my naked cunt and all I could do was drip in anticipation. His coarse thumbs spread the thick lips apart; cool air fanned my bud. After a few seconds of no movement, his hot mouth pressed against the dripping mess. A long, deep moan arose from me, as my legs jolted again. He blew against my womanhood, creating a slurry of my nectar and his saliva. I could feel it drip down my cunt and to my rear slowly. Seductively almost. His soft tongue pushed its way into my smooth center and I felt my walls clench. He bobbed his head forward and back; probing me with his tongue as he went. I furrowed my brows and arched my back. Gripping the back of my knees, I bucked my hips against his mouth as slutty moans left my lips.

“Mmm. . . you feel so good, So-so,” I chanted as I whipped my head to the side.

He groaned against my womanhood, before pulling away briefly. He reached up the bed and gripped his desired item. Once I heard a distinctive buzzing, I knew it was the wand. He pressed the toy against my bud, possibly wanting to see my reaction to it. I moaned at the light vibrations and squirmed underneath it. A hum passed his lips as I felt his fingers gently toy with my entrance. One finger slowly went in, curling upward to the desired pleasure button. Shinso used that finger for about a minute before adding a second one. He presses his fingertips against the roof of my cunny and started to jab them upward. I bit my lip and dug my nails into my thighs at the added friction. I could feel a soft pool gather in my stomach and I knew my climax was near.

“Oh fuck! Oh, fuck!” I practically yelled as I gripped the sheets.

Shinso kept his same pace. I could imagine observing the incoming orgasm rise from my toes down my calves and thighs and to my abdomen.

I furrowed my eyes again and brought my legs closer to my chest. “Oh fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh shit!” My legs shoot violently as my toes clenched tightly. My breathing increased and tingles encased my whole body. Then, all of a sudden, all the feelings in my body stopped. And all I could hear was the buzzing of the vibrator in my room. For those two seconds, every fiber of my being clenched, including my walls around Shinso’s fingers. I could feel tears form in my eyes as a throaty moan fell from my lips and my back arched against the bed. I released the grip on my legs and allowed them to shake chaotically against the mattress. I reached under my head for the pillow and squeezed it around my head as I rode out the pleasable wave.

When my legs stopped shaking and my breathing calmed down, I released the pillow and lifted my head. “So-so?”

“I’m here,” he swiftly replied before removing the eye mask from my face. Shinso looked at me with a loving expression and placed a hand on my cheek. “Are you okay? That seemed pretty intense.”

“It was,” I replied looking at him with doe eyes. “Can you just. . . hold me for a while? I don’t think I’m ready to continue.”

“Of course.” He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around me. His violet eyes gazed down at me with such repertoire that it was almost impossible to keep contact.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked feeling so insecure.

“No, I just. . .” Shinso cut himself off. Somehow trying to find the right thing to say at that moment. He pulled my body closer to his before pressing his lips to my forehead and saying “ I love you.”

I froze. My breath caught in my throat. My heartbeat pausing its usual rhythm. My mind was completely cleared of any passing thought. “How. . . long have you known?”

“Not too long. About a few minutes.”

“Wait,” I pulled away from him and sat up in the bed. “What do you mean ‘a few minutes’?”

Shinso took a deep breath and followed my motions. “I realized I loved you when you told me you trusted me and proceeded to relinquish control. I had never seen you so vulnerable with anyone and we have known each other for five years. It meant a lot to me and everything else just. . . clicked in my brain.”

“So, all the ordering food and tampons. . . you didn’t do that to get me to put my guard down? You did it just because?”

“Well, yeah. I thought that’s what good roommates do. At least, that’s what Tendou says they do.”

“Wow. . . I. . . need a minute to digest. . . all of this.”

“Take your time.”

I spent the next few days hovering about our shared apartment. Replaying those three tiny, tiny words in my mind. I love you. He loved me. Shinso loved me. He didn’t do all those nice things because he wanted to use me or my body for his pleasure. He did it because he wanted to be a good roommate. Shinso wasn’t the type of man to say things he didn’t mean— hell, he doesn’t even speak the majority of the time. He meant what he said. And I couldn’t gather my thoughts to see how I felt about him. I knew what he meant to me. I knew I didn’t see myself living with anyone else and the thought of him being with another woman infuriated me. After a short while, I picked up a pen and grabbed my keyboard to write a song.

Justin found time to text me again; notifying me that he wanted to make up for our failed date by giving a free studio session. Being the starving artist that I was, I took up the offer. On a whim, I texted Shinso to meet at the studio, half expecting him to decline my answer. He didn’t. Shinso walked into the small room, still in his volleyball uniform. His violet eyes brightened when I smiled at him. He gave me a small smirk and a short wave.

Justin, completely taken back by the massive player, gawked at Shinso’s sheer size. “Damn, how tall are you?”

“Six foot four inches,” Shinso stated in a bland expression.

“Wow,” Justin turned away from the athlete and back to me. “I’m ready when you are.”

I took a deep breath, readjusted my keyboard, and looked ahead. “I’m ready.”

I started playing the keys and looking down at the lyrics on my notebook page.

I don’t want to seem the way I do

But I’m confident when I’m with you

I looked up at Shinso with a weak smile.

Lately, all I feel is bad and bruised

Tired of tripping on my shoes

I squeezed my eyes shut and finished the rest of the course.

But when he loves me I

Feel like I’m floating, when

He calls me pretty, I

Feel like somebody.

Even when we fade,

Eventually to nothing,

You will always be my favorite form of loving.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Shinso. His cheeks were a slight pink and his eyes were slightly closed. He seemed somewhat embarrassed by the lyrics, yet really into them.

I finished the lyrics, making sure I kept eye contact with him for the entirety of the song. I watched his shoulders relax, and jaw clench at the sound of the lyrics. He leaned forward as if to hear me better. Shinso’s boyish charm was completely exposed and I was loving every second of it.

When the song ended, Justin stood up and clapped from the other end of the glass. He clicked a button and shouted for me to come out.

“You were so good!” He practically shouted to the top of his lungs. “I should’ve gotten you here sooner.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said with a chuckle.

“Please tell me you’re free this Friday, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Justin gave me a hopeful look.

“Actually— “

“She has plans with me this Friday,” Shinso chimed harshly.

Justin looked between the two of us and simply nodded. “I totally get it. Shoot me a text when you are free though. We should talk business.”

“Of course!” I replied with a smile.

Shinso and I trotted out of the studio shortly after the exchange. He remained silent within the elevator of the building. Inside the cab home. And, as we walked through the front door. It was after he retreated into his room and took a shower when he finally spoke to me.

“Did you write that song for me?” Shinso asked after taking a seat in my desk chair.

“I did,” I answered simply.

“Does that mean you. . . share my feelings?” He proceeded to question me.

“Yes, I love you, Shinso,” I offered the response slowly.

He rose from my chair and sat across from me on my bed. “Tell me again.”

“I love you, Shinso.”

His lips captured mine in a heated kiss. His calloused hands pulled me closer to him as mine latched in his hair. I leaned back against the bed and spread my legs to give him more access. I moaned against his lips and moved my hips against his groin.

“Do you want to continue?” Shinso asked as pulled away. “We can always—”

“Hurry up and grab the condoms from the top drawer,” I interjected as I unhooked my arms to peel my shirt off.

Without a word, the athlete scooted from the bed and did as he was told. Shinso swiftly removed his sweats and tossed them to the side. He ripped the plastic packet open with his teeth and rolled the rubber on his member. He climbed back onto the bed proceeded to yank my bottoms off my body and spread my legs. Shinso positioned his member against my center and looked up at me. Once I gave him an eager nod, he sunk himself into me. A soul-shaking moan erupted from the two of us, followed by a curse underneath our breaths. He leaned down to give me a soft kiss before slowly rocking his hips against mine.

Gentle moans fell from my lips as I arched my back against his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby.” I brought my hands up my legs and navel; I latched my digits onto my ample breasts and gave them a slight squeeze.

Shinso readjusted my hips and lifted my legs in the air. His fingertips pressed firmly in the soft flesh of my thigh as he had begun to drop his hips down onto mine in such a harsh manner. My walls clenched around him, as I felt myself begin to ooze even more onto him. The new stimulation was making my whole body heat up and I desperately wanted more of it. I gripped the sheets tightly and gazed at his flushed-out face.

God, he looked so powerful fucking me like that. His muscles flexed with each thrust and sweat began dotting his abdomen. The pink hue on his cheeks and the clenching of his jaw made my insides tingle.

I was more attracted to this man than I could ever possibly know.

Suddenly, his pace started to slow down and his hips started to spasm. Just a tad. He was so close to his peak.

“You take me so well, sweetheart,” Shinso grunted lowly. “You’re tight cunt is milking me dry.”

I smirked. “Are you about to cum?”

His violet eyes narrowed and he paused his thrusts. “On your belly, now.”

“Yes, sir,” I teased as I rolled onto my stomach. Chest pressed against the bed and hips in the air.

The athlete gripped my hips as he eased his member back into me. “Rub that needy clit of yours, nice and slow.”

I tucked a hand between my legs and flicked my fingers softly. A small moan fell from my lips as my hips began to twitch slightly.

“Looks like you’re not gonna last too long, baby,” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Of course not, you know how to make me cum,” I said with a giggle.

“I am the only one that will be doing that from this point on, understood?” His gripped tightened around my waist and I could feel his hips begin to twitch slightly.

“Understood,” I grunted as I felt the warm pool fill in my stomach. “I’m getting close, baby.”

“Move your hand faster,” Shinso instructed while keeping his pace.

I flicked my wrist faster and immediately felt the climax rising my legs and thighs and gathering at my stomach. I clenched and released my walls several times before releasing a gurgle-like moan. “Ahh fuck. Ahh, fuck!”

“You better not stop moving your hand, princess,” he warned in a low tone.

“I’m not! I promise!” I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. “Please let me cum! I wanna cum so bad! Oh, God!”

“Go ahead, you deserve it,” he grunted as he began to move his hips faster.

“Oh fuck!” I gripped the sheets tightly and moved my hand even faster. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

I clenched my walls ever so tightly and squeezed my eyes shut. In the pit of my stomach, I felt a soft soap bubble pop and ooze out to the rest of my body. My entire body clenched, and my hand pressed hard against my clit as I rode out the orgasm. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my tongue fell out of my mouth. Drool dripped down my chin as the stars behind my eyelids faded. After a few seconds, I slumped forward onto the bed and opened my eyes.

“Oh fuck. . .” I gurgled as my body finished twitching.

Shinso slid out of my smooth canal and kissed down my sweaty back before laying next to me. He gathered me into his arms and looked down at my overly stimulated body. “Promise me you’ll be mine and only mine.”

With half-closed lids, I looked up at him and said, “You buy me food when I’m sad, you get me tampons when I’m bleeding, AND you made me cum so hard I almost blacked out. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you be with someone else.”

He chuckled. “I love you.”

“You better, because you can’t get rid of me. I’m in too deep,” I replied as I snuggled closer to him. After a short moment of silence, I said “I love you, too.”

[xpeachesncream]

bands | twelve

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, insecurities, some overthinking, introducing you to fluffy koo?! and i think we’re all familiar with the song at the end too 🥺

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Am I doing too much for shopping for a dress? He told me to dress nice and I honestly don't have an ounce of nice in my closet." You told Kai as you looked through the hangers on the rack.

"No, you're not doing too much. And I think you dress nice, but it's always good to have a few dresses in general, right?"

"Okay, okay. How about this?" You hold up a black knitted, off the shoulder dress that fell right above the knee. "It's too simple isn't it?"

"Simple is the best." He shrugs. "That's probably the best one I've seen so far and it'll look nice on you. Plus, you can just curl your hair or whatever girls do."

"Hm, okay." You chuckle, heading over to the register to pay for the dress. You had picked up Kai from school and quickly dragged him to the mall before dropping him off at Eric's. You might have tried on and looked at a few billion dresses since you've been here, but out of all those, this dress probably spoke to you the most. You didn't wanna be too flashy, or do too much, but you did want to put effort into tonight's date with Jungkook. You had butterflies in your stomach all day, and quite frankly, you were nervous for how tonight would turn out. You just wanted to look good for him, and you definitely wanted him to look at you like you were the only girl in the world. It might have been a big ask on your part, but if he was serious about this, it shouldn't be a big deal, right?

"Let's get you some food before I drop you off."

"Can't I just stay at your place?"

"And watch me do my walk of shame in the morning? No thanks." He gives you a look before shaking his head.

"You're right, that's kind of weird." He does a fake shiver. "Kind of gross too."

"You started it." You snort. You make your way over to the food court, ordering Panda Express for a quick to-go meal. You could never go wrong with fried rice and their orange chicken. As you had ordered your food and waited for them to fill up your bowls, the two workers began to chat and you only overheard because—

"Did you hear? Jungkook is supposedly dating a stripper from that nightclub." You purse your lips into a fine line as you wait patiently for the food to be put into your bowls.

"I heard, but is it actually true? Why would he date a stripper?"

"I know, right? He could do so much better, why would he stoop that low?"

"My question is— how did a nobody like her get his attention?" The cashier turns to you and gives you a fake smile. "Anything else for you, love?"

"No." You shake your head, pay and take the food before walking away. You don't know why the words pain you so much, but you simply shake it off as you approach Kai who is waiting at a nearby table.

"Ready?" He looks up at you and tilts his head.

"You okay?"

"Mmm, yeah let's go."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Kai. Really." You give him a nod, along with a fake, tight-lipped smile. He knows something's wrong, but he doesn't press you, especially after the way you responded. You quickly drop him off to avoid any unnecessary confrontation with your stepfather and make your way home. As soon as you touch base, you sit on your couch and.. you just quietly sit there. Suddenly, everything people had been saying was getting to you. Why did Jungkook want you? Why did he go for you and not anyone else?

Maybe they were right? You were just a nobody. Even if Jungkook did have feelings for you, you questioned if this was even going to last.

"God, Y/N." You groan at yourself, shaking the thoughts out of your head to start getting ready. Just because you brushed it off though, doesn't mean you had gotten over it. They were starting to pile up one by one, and one day, you felt like you were going to break and really let it get to you.

That day wasn't today, though. It couldn't be.

You looked at the dress after you slipped it on, staring at yourself in the mirror as you slipped on your heels. You fixed up your hair and added a dab of lipgloss before letting out a content sigh. You wondered if this would be enough for him. You always wondered if you were enough for him. Your stomach was in knots and this was the first time you felt sick to your stomach nervous.

"Hello?" Your phone suddenly rang, you grabbing it with a quickness.

"Hey, I'm outside." You furrowed your brows because his voice sounded a lot closer than it should be. You kept the phone to your ear as you opened the door, seeing Jungkook smiling with the phone pressed against his ear as well.

"Silly." You scrunched your nose as you hung up and put your phone down. You watched as he looked at you up and down, his eyes widening in admiration and awe.

"You look beautiful, Y/N." You blushed.

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself, Jeon Jungkook." He smiles. He was wearing a black and white striped button up, black slacks, boots and a fitted black blazer. His black hair hung loosely over the sides of his face, natural waves coming in and giving it a little volume.

"Ready?" He holds out his hand for you to intertwine your fingers with his.

"You know, you didn't have to come upstairs." You smiled up at him.

"Mm, but that takes away from the complete experience, sweetheart." He grabs your purse and your small duffle bag [since he politely requested for you to bring a change of clothes] to carry it for you as you head down the steps and to his car. You loved the smell of his car, as oddly as that sounds. He always had a fresh strip of that Black Ice car freshener hanging from his rear view mirror that reminded you of his scent so much. "Seatbelt on?" You nod as he starts the car and locks his free hand with yours once again.

"Where are you taking me?" You playfully ask.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles. "However, I want you to know we won't be out in public. Not because I don't wanna show you off, it's only because I don't want anyone to bother us." You nod.

"Okay." You appreciate his honesty, your what if's and insecurities slowly drifting away the more Jungkook talks to you, touches you. You always thought it was cute how careful he was with you, treating you like you were the most delicate thing in the world and that he had to take care of you in every way possible.

You realize that you're making your way to his luxury apartment building [his own, not the dorms] and you're a little confused as to why you had gotten all dressed up and fancy if you were just going back to his place. However, you didn't say anything to allow the plans to do the talking for you. You trusted him with this, and you feel like Jungkook really hasn't given you a solid reason to not trust him at this point in your 'relationship.'

You didn't know what to call it yet.

He parks his car in his usual spot, and immediately runs over to open your door and help you out. He gathers your bags from the back and hangs onto them as his other hand is resting against the small of your back. He brings you to the very top floor, where there aren't necessarily apartments but moreso conference and party rooms and you can tell strictly by the way each room has double doors.

"Uh, this exists?" Jungkook chuckles.

"Other idols live here too, gives them a way to do shit without having to step outside and have people in their business." You nod.

"Does this mean your dorm is like this too?" He nods.

"Yup, just another luxury apartment building. Few things differ but for the most part, they're the same." You shrug.

"Must be nice."

"It's alright." He stops in front of double doors towards the end of the hallway. "Close your eyes for me, please? Just for a quick minute." You smirk before doing what you're told and closing your eyes. You hear the doors open, and Jungkook's hand is retreating down onto the small of your back. He's guiding you as you walk in, but stops after a couple of steps. "Open?" You open your eyes and softly gasp at the sight in front of you. The entire half of the wall was strictly windows, so you had a good view of the city in front of you. What caught your eye the most though was all the pink and red shades of rose petals along the floor, lining your way to the dining table in the center of the room. Along with it were little tealight candles and balloons along the way, with speakers softly playing music in the background. The room looked so big having one table in the center, just for the two of you. The center table was drenched in white table cloth, with tall white candles in the middle and a single rose as its centerpiece.

"Jungkook?!" You slightly shriek. "Oh my god, what is this?"

"Date night, sweetheart. Had to make it worthwhile since we're not out in public." He smiles and takes your hand. "Come on, let's go eat. I know you're hungry." He pulls out your chair and has you sit before he situates himself in front of you and tucks your bags underneath the table.

"Thank you." You give him a soft, cute smile. You're not sure how else you can show your appreciation for all the effort he put in, but you were happy. "I-I really don't know what I did to deserve all this effort from you." He shakes his head.

"What do you mean? You didn't have to do anything. I wholeheartedly just wanted to do this for you." He smiles, his dimple poking out from the bottom corner of mouth.

"Well, thank you again. I really do appreciate everything you do for me." He scrunches his nose before looking up at the waiter, who was ready to serve you two either a bottle of Jungkook's favorite red wine or white wine.

"You like sweet or bitter?"

"Sweet." You shyly said as he signaled for the waiter to pour the white wine before thanking him as he left you two to your piece.

"So, dinner is a 3 course meal made by a friend of mine."

"A friend, ey?" He nods, knowing full well he hired one of the most popular chefs around to prepare dinner for you two.

"I hope you like it. I asked him to make it special." You chuckled.

"I'm sure I will." You sipped on your wine. Over time, the salad appetizer came out, followed by the main course meal. You both had dug in pretty quietly, Jungkook chiming in about random things with you reacting appropriately to the topics he brought up.

"So, did you figure out what you were gonna do for Kai?" You shrug.

"He's gonna go to the arcade and I'll buy him Loco Moco."  You snort. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it? For an 18th birthday?" You frown.

"No, not if that's what he wants. Why don't you come over my place and I can make it for him? He can take over my gaming consoles if he wants, too."

"That's asking for too much."

"But you're not asking, I'm asking."

"Would you mind? He really does want to meet you."

"No I don't mind. It's on Saturday, yeah?"

"Yup." He nods.

"Schedule isn't as packed for a bit."

"Hm, okay. If you say so."

"Just let me know when to start making it and I'll make sure I make the time."

"Okay." You nod. "Hey, you have an older brother, don't you?"

"Yeah, but we aren't as close. Which is why it's nice to see you and Kai together. It's pretty comforting."

"May I ask why?"

"He just always thinks I'm a troublemaker, or that I rebel too much. We just have different mindsets, that's all."

"Did you guys fight a lot when you were younger?" He nods.

"Sure did." He points to the scar on his cheek and laughs. You lean over to run your finger over it before sitting back into your chair.

"That looks like a deep cut."

"That's because it was. He beat my ass over his turn on the computer." You chuckle.

"Sorry, that must have hurt."

"Eh, nothing I couldn't get over. But yeah, that's pretty much my relationship with my brother."

"How about your parents?" He shrugs.

"They think the same way. I try to be on their good side but they like to remind me about what I used to do or how I live my life." He forks into his food. "Like my tattoos. They hated that shit. Probably still do."

"I'm sorry, Jungkook."

"No, don't be. It is what it is. I really do try, but sometimes it gets tiring. I don't go home often because of it."

"Hmm." You hum. "You know, I always thought you were such a social butterfly."

"Me?" He laughs. "No."

"But you look so confident on stage. So happy."

"I am happy on stage, but it's kind of just that. I do what I need to do, especially for the fans and all. Don't get me wrong though, I love it. But behind the scenes, I'm not much of a talker, or someone who shares a lot. I like to keep it that way. I don't like getting too close to people and letting people into my bubble and vice versa. Gets complicated."

"So, what about me?" You look at him, curiosity filling the look in your eyes.

"I like you, and I want you in my bubble. You aren't complicated."

"How do you know that for sure? I can kick and scream and throw tantrums. And-and have attitude." You say, making him laugh and shake his head. "I can be complicated."

"I doubt it. Can't see an ounce of it. You can try, but I'm sure it won't be like the way you explain it to be." He looks at you. "All I'm saying is that I really like you, Y/N. I want you around me. You keep things so simple and sweet, and I've already started to appreciate the small things from being around you. It's something I used to overlook before we met. All the small things, the little joys in life. You make me look at things in a different perspective, I guess is what I'm trying to say." He cutely shakes his head at how he just rambled on, making you blush.

"It really makes me happy to hear that." You finished up the food on your plate, blushing as you wiped the corners of your mouth and fiddled with your fingers.

"So, did you ever think you'd be here after all the times you played so hard to get at the club?"

"No, definitely not. I mean, even in general." You tilted your head while looking at him.

"Are you happy to be here?" He asks shyly, his doe eyes wide and puppy-like.

"Of course I am."

"That's all that matters to me." He says, beaming from ear to ear. The waiter brings over the dessert, which is a sampler plate of 5 different cakes/cheesecakes. Your eyes light up because who fucking doesn't love dessert? You immediately go to town, yelling out your 'yum's' and 'ooh's' every bite you take. Jungkook laughs watching you happily eating away, giving him leverage to feed you a spoonful of the dessert on the plate closest to his end.

"I'm so full. That was so, so good." You finish your wine after one last bite of the dessert and sink back into your seat.

"Yeah? I'm glad you enjoyed it." He puts his napkin down on the table after wiping his mouth, then gets up, holding out his hand for you to take. You look at him, a little confused as to what he was trying to do, but you take it anyway. "May I have this dance with you, pretty lady?" You smile and nod, swinging your arms around his neck as he holds you closely against him by the hips.

"Jungkook?"

"Yeah?"

"I really appreciate you. Thank you for taking such good care of me."

"You're absolutely welcome, baby." The pet name sends goosebumps raging throughout your body, your forehead pressing against his. "You're special to me, you know? I can't really explain it just yet, but just know that every single thing that I've done for you has been worth it." You give him a small smile as you quietly dance to the music, your bodies pressed warmly together as you hold each other close. He softly sings along with the music, causing you to giggle every now and then when he showed off his cute facial expressions. After a song has passed, he presses his lips against your forehead, making you shut your eyes at the sensation of his soft lips against your skin.

You just wanted him as much as he wanted you. You were so undeniably attracted to him, just as much as he with you.

"I have one more thing to show you." He says as he grabs your bags underneath the table.

"One more thing, huh?" He suddenly gets shy, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he grabs your hand and leads you out of the room. You start climbing up the stairs instead of taking the elevator, going up about 3 more flights before Jungkook is climbing over the gate that blocks off the last flight the leads to another door. "Jungkook, is this illegal?!" He snorts as he waits for you to meet him at the door.

"Why would it be here if it was illegal?"

"But it was--" He opens the door, bringing you out to the rooftop to look at the entire view of the city ahead as the sun was getting ready to fully rest below the horizon. "Ohhhh shit, it's a beauty." You say in awe, walking over to the railing to take everything in. You expected Jungkook's body to press against yours from behind, however it doesn't. You find yourself looking for him, turning over your shoulder to see him quietly blowing up a balloon before smiling cutely at you and bringing it over. "A balloon?" You cocked your head to the side in confusion.

"This is gonna sound dumb and cheesy, but it was really the one thing I could think of to help put things into perspective. I want you to write everything you're worried about, everything you've been thinking about, all that negative shit." He hands you the balloon with a sharpie, causing you to laugh.

"Where did you even hide this stuff?"

"In my pocket." He scrunched his nose, his teeth piercing his bottom lip as he let out a soft, tiny laugh. You do as he says though, writing out all the negative shit that had been clouding your mind lately - Eric, worrying about Kai and him going off to college soon, your image, just to name a few. You wrote it all out as Jungkook stood behind you, resting his chin on your head as his arms wrapped around your neck.

"Okay, I think that's it."

"Mmkay, let it go." He nods towards the view in front of him. You let the balloon go, watching it dance around with the light breeze, flying farther and farther away as it does so. "I don't want you to worry about any of that when I'm around. I know the world hasn't exactly been the nicest to you, but I want you to know that I'm gonna do my best to keep you safe. You and Kai." You smile to yourself as your body sinks into his, the both of you just enjoying the view and the moment, which ultimately turns into a fun, playful competition as to who can spot more landmarks than the other.

After you both had spent a good amount of time watching the sun fully sink below the horizon, he took you back downstairs to his apartment, placing your bags off to the side of his room. You slipped out of your heels, sighing contently at the feeling of your feet being out of the heels after so long. You had no idea how you lasted at the club like this, it felt like it was such a long time ago.

"Baby." Jungkook says, coming in from the living room.

"Huh?" You look up at him as you set your heels aside neatly. The nickname was something you knew would take awhile for you to get used to, especially if it was used outside of the bed. It was moreso of a 'i can't believe he's actually calling me baby' kind of thing. He's actually calling me baby instead of my first name. I'm baby.

"Look, I bought this projector but I wanted to wait until you were here so we could try it." He begins fiddling with this little mini projector he bought, connecting it to the tv and doing all these technical handyman things that you weren't really sure of.

"What movie are you going to put on?"

"That's a good question."

"I'll let you figure it out." You say, rubbing your arm, eyeing his closet. "You're the one who knows all the good stuff."

"No I—"He turns to look at you, catching you eyeing his closet. "Babe."

"Hm?" You return your attention towards him, watching as he laughs at you.

"Do you want a shirt or something?" You nod shyly. "Then go get it. You don't have to ask or act all shy about it."

"But it's your shirt."

"Whatever is mine is yours too." He turns back to the tv, scrolling through his apps to find the best movie to put on. You slowly walk into his closet, eyeing all the clothes he has, taking in the scent of his shirts as you them by. You lock eyes on a random Carhartt longsleeve folded nicely on one of his shelves and start slipping the sleeves down your arms so you can easily step out of your dress. "I think—" Jungkook stops in his tracks as he sees you starting to slip out of your dress. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, watching as he approaches you with his hands in his pockets. You feel his hands against your arms, his lips gently pressing a kiss against your shoulders.

"You think what?" You smile softly at him as he presses another kiss against your jawline before gently turning you to face him.

"I think I found a movie you'll enjoy." He lifts your chin to kiss you on the lips. You smile into the kiss before pulling away and nodding.

"Okay, that sounds good."

"Find a shirt you like?" You point at his longsleeve and he nods.

"Nice. That's one of my favorites."

"Oh, then I'll just pick something else if—"

"Why? I don't mind. Go for it." You silently nod before turning around to slip out of your dress and slip the shirt on. Jungkook changes into his pajamas behind you, following you into his bed shortly after.

"Oh my god." You laugh seeing Always Be My Maybe projected against the wall. "You asked Kai if I've watched this yet, haven't you?"

"Nooo." He lies, silently giggling to himself.

"You liar! You knew I've had this on my list and that I haven't gotten around to watching it."

"Don't know what you're talking about, sweetheart. Just pure coincidence." He says, leaving the room to grab water and shut off his living room lights. He shuts the door to his room, immediately putting the water down onto the nightstand before slipping under the sheets with you.

"Mhm." You eye him suspiciously as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to lay on his chest.

"Mhm." He mocks you, laughing before kissing you on the head. "Ready?"

"Have been. Surprised you didn't know that."

"Mmm, baby catches on quick I see." You smack his chest, cuddling up tighter against him as the movie starts. Tonight was the night that really solidified where you were at with him, because after dinner, you highkey expected him to take you home and fuck you senseless [which you weren't opposed to], but he kept it sweet. Delicate. Cute. A serious, date night to show you what you really meant to him. This wasn't just some plan to woo you and get you in your pants and keep you as the exclusive fuckbuddy - no, this was Jungkook really confessing where he stood with you, and vice versa. As you cuddled against him, you saw a lot of his cute, nerdy sides poking out whenever he would comment on certain things that came up on the movie. For the first time, you heard his really loud, obnoxiously cute laugh that you instantly fell in love with. You were with Jungkook, and you were seeing a whole side of him that many people didn't really see.

And for that, you were grateful.

can i call you baby? can you be my friend? can you be my lover up until the very end? let me show you love, oh, no pretend, stick by my side even when the world is caving in

track eleven: at my worst (remix) - pink sweat$ & kehlani

[choerrypuffs]

my best friend wants to be abducted by aliens.

pairing: son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 14.6k (this was supposed to be 5k 😌)

author’s note: hi so here is renjun’s chapter to my 00 line x camp half-blood series (i’m sorry, i know it took forever)! thank you so much for all of the support, and i hope you enjoy 💞

warning: one (1) makeout session

You are currently crouched behind a cluster of bushes, trying to get a glimpse of your targets through binoculars. 

Does that sound stalkerish? Perhaps. 

Are you actually a stalker? Debatable. 

However, no matter how suspicious it looks, your motive is pure—for the most part. 

You’re spying on Kang Daniel (son of Hermes) and Park Jihyo (daughter of Apollo), both of whom are at the Archery Range. Jihyo is showing Daniel how to shoot, encasing him with her arms as she nocks the arrow for him. The tips of his ears are so red that they could practically be a flare; you can see how flamboyant they are all the way from your hiding spot. 

You start grinning like a maniac, excited that your plan is finally unfolding. 

You had noticed how awful Daniel was at archery during a training session a couple weeks ago, and you casually suggested to him that he should ask Jihyo for some lessons. You’ve always known that Daniel has been hopelessly in love with Jihyo since the moment he saw her (it’s a child of Aphrodite thing—you can just sense it), but she’s been oblivious to it this entire time. 

Well, until now. 

Just as you guessed, sparks flew immediately. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. You give them a couple more passionately-charged archery lessons before they inevitably surrender to their emotions and begin to date—and your predictions are never wrong. 

“Another job well done, Y/N,” you mumble proudly to yourself, “Mom would be so proud.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to stop loitering by these bushes and stalking those two campers over there, or else I’ll have to report you to the camp director,” a sudden voice from behind you says. 

Letting out a loud yelp, you drop your binoculars in surprise and whip your head around to see who it is. You turn so fast that you almost fall backwards into said bushes, quickly using your palms to balance yourself. 

“Renjun, you asshole!” 

Huang Renjun, your long-time best friend and professional asshole, is standing in front of you. He’s wearing the iconic orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with black jeans, his hands tucked inside his pockets. His dark hair is parted to one side, with a single lock of hair falling perfectly into one eye, giving him the I-wake-up-and-my-hair-is-naturally-like-this look (even though it’s most definitely not true). No doubt that he’s the best-looking person in the entire camp, but his brusque personality makes him a rose with thorns. Sharp thorns.

You often wonder how the two of you even became as close as you are. Children of Athena and Aphrodite notoriously clash due to their mothers’ history with each other. 

You met Renjun four years ago at Arts and Crafts Center, which is a hotspot for children of Athena. It was your first time at the camp, and you wanted to try making a ceramic (maybe a bowl or vase) to bring back to your family as a souvenir. Of course, you failed miserably and got snickered at by other Athena kids. Renjun, who had been sitting beside you, was the only one who didn’t laugh. He even gruffly gave you some pointers. Grateful, you complimented his painting—a mix of pink, yellow, blue, and purple watercolors that meshed together to resemble a galaxy. In return, he gave it to you.

“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” he had said nonchalantly.

Even though it was the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, and it’s remained one of your most prized possessions to this day. 

After that incident, you basically attached yourself at the hip with him. He would constantly complain about you following him around, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He’s been complaining for four, going on five, years now, yet he’s become your closest friend. Renjun likes act like you’re a pain in the ass (which isn’t untrue), but you know he cares about you. Even if he doesn’t verbalize it, you can tell by his actions; it’s all about the small things with him. Despite being rough around the edges, Huang Renjun is actually just a big softie on the inside. 

“—could you stop snooping around like a weirdo?” Renjun asks, cutting your trip down memory lane short.

You rise to your feet, dusting your palms off and glaring at him. “I’m not snooping around like a weirdo. I’m just snooping around on one of my projects, like a good matchmaker.”

“Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes. He leans down and picks up your binoculars, handing them to you. 

You take them and hang them around your neck. “Why are you here anyway?”

“Aren’t you the one who asked me to meet you at the Dining Pavilion for lunch?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh, sorry! I lost track of time,” you exclaim. “How’d you find me?”

Renjun gives you a pointed look. “Well, seeing as how Daniel and Jihyo are your current quote-unquote project, all I had to do was figure out where they were because I knew you’d be somewhere close.”

You give him a sheepish smile. “You know me so well, Junnie.”

“The hell? Don’t call me that, it’s gross,” he snaps, pretending like he’s about to gag.

“You’re not cute at all,” you huff. 

“Neither are you,” he replies.

“You are so rude! You’ll never get a girlfriend with an attitude like that!” You place your hands on your hips.

“I’ll live,” he says, shrugging. 

You don’t know much about Renjun’s love life because he refuses to tell you anything; he’s like a stubborn clam that won’t open up. However, he’s made it very clear that he does not want your assistance when it comes to finding romance. Obviously, it hasn’t stopped you from trying, but this is one of the few things you can’t seem to make him give in to. 

Yet.

“Whatever,” you sigh. “Let’s go eat.”

The two of you walk to the Dining Pavilion, which is a relatively long walk from the Archery Range, but you make enough conversation that it feels short. When you arrive, you see that they’re serving chicken curry and rice. Your stomach growls embarrassingly loudly when the mouthwatering scent hits you, which prompts Renjun to laugh at you. You give him the middle finger and then turn around to grab a lunch tray. Once you get your food, you two sit at a table in the back. 

Before you begin to eat, you notice that your curry has chunks of potatoes and slices of carrots on it—you abhor carrots more than anything in this world. Noticing your disgusted expression, Renjun slides his plate over without even batting an eyelash, so you can pick out the carrot slices and give them to him. It’s a routine thing for the two of you, since you’re an extremely picky eater and he’s not.

After you take out all of the carrots, you begin to devour your food. You’re wolfing it down so fast that you’re basically asking to choke, in which you immediately do. A piece of chicken lodges itself in your throat, and you begin to cough violently. Renjun sighs, patting your back before handing you your cup of water. 

“I feel like I’m babysitting a toddler every time I eat with you,” he points out as you gulp down your water. 

“Thanks,” you say after you recover.

“For dislodging the food in your esophagus or calling you a toddler?” 

“Both!” you say cheerfully. 

Renjun shakes his head at you, but he’s smiling. You take advantage of his good mood by quickly reaching over and swiping a couple of grapes from the fruit bowl on his tray. He rolls his eyes when you pop them into your mouth and wink at him. 

“Um, Renjun?” A small, different voice cuts in. Both of you turn around to see who it is. 

Hwang Yeji, daughter of Iris and one of the most popular girls at the camp, is standing there. She’s fidgeting, and you can see pink dusting her cheeks. Her friends are at the table right behind her, giving her supportive looks. She smiles shyly at Renjun. 

“Can I help you?” Renjun asks, deadpanning. He isn’t rude per se, but it’s also not a friendly tone. 

Yeji slightly falters at his lackluster response. “Oh, um, I’m going to be performing at the amphitheater tonight...and I was wondering if you could come watch?”

“Why?” 

You know Renjun is asking because he’s genuinely baffled, but it doesn’t lessen your urge to want to slap him upside the head.

“N-No particular reason! O-Okay, bye!” Yeji turns on her heel and runs away. You watch her go back to her table, head hung low in defeat.

“What was that all about?” Renjun is still bewildered. 

No longer able to control yourself, you punch him in the arm. “You moron!”

“Ow! What the hell, Y/N?” he hisses, rubbing his arm.

“She invited you to watch her perform because she likes you!” you hiss. 

“What? No, she doesn’t.” He furrows his eyebrows. 

“Yes, she does! I should know of all people, you dingus. Even without powers, literally anyone else would be able to see that Yeji likes you!” You’re trying your best to keep your voice down, but he’s making it difficult for you. “You are the densest person on the planet!”

“Look who’s talking,” Renjun mutters underneath his breath. 

“I can’t believe you just blew her off like that,” you continue, not hearing what he said.

“How was I supposed to know she liked me? I’ve never even spoken to her,” he protests.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Couldn’t you tell by the context clues?” 

“What context clues?”

“Oh my gods,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.

“What do you want me to do then?” he asks tiredly. 

“Go to her performance tonight,” you say immediately, uncovering your face and whipping your head to look at him with a hopeful expression.

“I don’t really want to though. There’s no point in getting her hopes up if I don’t like her back,” Renjun states matter-of-factly.

“How do you not even have a little bit of interest in her? Look at her! She’s stunning!” You feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head.

“I’m not saying she isn’t, but I just don’t feel anything special towards her,” he explains. 

“You’re actually insane,” you say incredulously. “There’s no way someone can look at Hwang Yeji and say they don’t feel anything special.”

“If you feel so strongly about it, you could date her,” he suggests.

“No, I’ve decided,” you cut him off, slamming your hand on the table with determination. “I’m going to find you a girlfriend.”

“I’ll have to respectfully decline your services,” he answers, sighing.

“Give me one week,” you plead, “all of my matches have worked out within a week. Please, Renjun? The worst thing that can happen is that you actually like someone and you two become a couple.” 

“And what if it doesn’t work out?” He tilts his head.

“Then, I’ll drop the girlfriend topic for good. I swear on River Styx. And I’ll also give up my title as Camp Half-Blood’s official matchmaker,” you promise.

“You gave yourself that title.”

“Shut up.”

“Why are you so adamant on finding me a girlfriend anyway?” he asks.

“Because you’re so set on not getting a girlfriend, and that drives me crazy. I want to know just who on this Earth can make you feel something special, if even Yeji can’t do it. I want to crack you, like a walnut,” you admit.

“Bad analogy.”

“Yeah, it sounded better in my head.”

Renjun falls quiet, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighs the pros and cons of your proposition. Athena kids think way too much and way too loudly; they need to let loose and follow their hearts more.

You sit in anticipation for just a little longer before you see the tension on his face begin to dissipate and his features begin to droop. It’s an expression you know well; he’s going to let you have your way, like he always does. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “You get five days. That’s it.”

You squeal loudly, launching yourself at him so you can envelop him in a big bear hug. He grunts as he catches you, saving the both of you from toppling backwards onto the floor. “You’re the best, Renjun!”

Even when he’s irritated or annoyed, Renjun never pushes you away when you hug him. He isn’t exactly the affectionate type, yet his embrace is always so warm and calming. His words may be cutthroat, but his actions are always gentle.

He circles his arms around your waist loosely as he sighs into your hair, seemingly waiting for you to pull back to face him before he says anything. When you do, he flicks you on the forehead instead.

Okay, so you take the his actions are always gentle part back.

“Ouch!” You shrug yourself out of his hold, rubbing the probably reddening spot on your forehead.

“Payback for punching me earlier,” Renjun says, crossing his arms. “But are you sure about this?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You have a perfect record when it comes to your matches. Plus, you’re losing two out of your usual seven days. Are you sure you want to risk breaking your streak?” he asks. 

“What makes you think it’ll get broken?” you shoot back.

“I don’t just think; I know it will,” he smirks arrogantly. “That’s why I’m asking.”

You feel your left eye twitch. Riled up by his cocky demeanor, you grab your cup and chug the rest of your water, wincing like you just downed a shot. Wiping your mouth, you point your finger at him.

“Huang Renjun, just you wait. I’ll make you fall in love so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”

ও DAY ONE.

The Athena Cabin is a marvel to you every time you enter it. Rather than a cabin, it’s a workshop and a library in one on the inside. There are beds pushed haphazardly against the walls, and if you didn’t know that this was the official Athena Cabin, you would’ve thought that the Athena children had simply just crashed at a random facility at the camp and decided to call it their place of residence. 

Renjun is still asleep, despite the commotion of his brothers and sisters running around in the library and/or constructing something in the workshop. His bed is located in the very back, hidden by a bookshelf that’s not frequented often. He’s curled up into a ball, with the blanket covering his head but you can still see tufts of his hair sticking out from under it. 

“Rise and shine!” you sing, lifting blanket off his face. 

His peaceful expression twists with discomfort as its exposed to light, and he immediately rips the pillow out from under his head and puts it over his face. He says something to you, but his words are muffled. You just assume it’s some sort of profanity. 

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty! We have business to attend to,” you say cheerfully, taking the pillow away and tossing it to the foot of his bed.

“And what exactly is this supposed business?” Renjun asks dryly, opening his eyes and squinting up at you. 

“We’re going to scout for potential candidates for you,” you answer as you grab his arm and pull him up. He reluctantly lets you, slumping forward like a limp puppet. 

“Isn’t that your job?” He raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his messy bedhead. Renjun always looks particularly adorable when he wakes up. His pajamas consist of a pair of basketball shorts and an extremely stretched-out t-shirt. The shirt is so big that it’s slipping off his shoulder, which makes him look like a little kid. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions, and you can’t help but grin at how cute it is. 

“Yes, but you’re a special case.” You talk to him like he’s five, running your hands through his hair and messing it up even more. Renjun scowls at you, but he sits there and lets you do it.

“Geez, who peed in your cornflakes?” you tease, seeing his stormy look. 

“You.”

“Okay, fine! I’ll wait for you outside, but don’t take too long to get ready,” you say, finally retracting your hands. “No more than thirty minutes or else I’m gonna come find you!” 

He gives you another nasty look, and you blow him a kiss before skipping away. As you head back to the entrance, you greet a couple of Athena kids who pass by. Normally, Aphrodite and Athena children stick their noses up in the air and ignore each other, but you’re such a frequent visitor that they have had no choice but to accept you. It also helps that Renjun is quite popular, so the campers that don’t like you are forced to tolerate you anyway because you’re his best friend. 

That’s another thing you don’t understand—why Renjun hangs out with you when everyone around him is practically foaming at the mouth at the prospect of being his friend (or something more). But for reasons unknown to you, he chooses to ice them out and spend time with you instead.

It’s not that you’re inherently unpopular or someone that would “tarnish” his reputation, but he could probably find someone that annoyed him less and didn’t cause as much trouble as you do. However, you’re glad that he’s choosing to stay by your side in spite of how crazy you can get, because you’re not really sure what you would do without him. 

Not that you would ever admit that because Renjun would roast you to high Olympus.  

As if on cue, you spot Renjun trudging toward you. True to your request, he got ready within thirty minutes. In fact, it only took him about fifteen. He doesn’t look very happy, but he’s always had a resting bitch face (though you’re pretty sure he’s just pissed at you right now).

Strangely, you’re a little embarrassed to see him. You’re not sure why you suddenly thought of your friendship with him and got all sappy. You’ve never really been good at handling the mushy-gushy stuff—only helping others find it.

“Let’s get this over with,” Renjun says begrudgingly when he reaches you, crossing his arms.

“Okay, well, first thing’s first,” you respond, trying to get back on track. You loop your arm through his, which prompts him to instantly uncross his own so you can cling onto his bicep. It’s such a natural action for you that you don’t even think about how quickly he accommodates you. “What’s your type?”

“Where are we going?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he lets you lead him around.

“That depends on your answer to my question,” you reply breezily.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the one who figures that out? You know, with your whole Aphrodite-love-sense-tingle thing.” 

You ignore his dig at your ability. “Normally, yes. But seeing as you’re incapable of feeling any emotion other than bitterness, I have to directly ask you.” 

He laughs at your comeback. “I see. But even if I do tell you my type, what makes you think she will like me too?” 

“If she doesn’t, then just woo her with your irresistible charm,” you say sarcastically. 

“My irresistible charm has a tendency to make people hate my guts, actually,” Renjun says, shrugging. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

“Renjun, you are fully capable of making a girl fall for you,” you chide, huffing at his negative attitude. “I’m not concerned with that. My main issue right now is finding someone that will make you care enough to want her to like you back.”

“You think so?” he asks quietly, looking down at where your hand is resting on his arm.

“Hm?” 

“I hope you’re right,” he says a little louder, dragging his gaze away from your hand and giving you a small smile. “About being capable.”

When Renjun looks into your eyes, you feel him for the first time. Your heart wrenches with his, like a knife was driven into it and something keeps twisting it. It’s an excruciating pain that makes your lungs want to cave in, a pain so unbearably sad that it makes you want to assume fetal position and bawl your eyes out, an exhausting pain that drains you of all your energy until you want to collapse, a pain that makes you hate yourself—but it’s a pain you never want to get rid of. It’s a pain that makes you happy. It’s a pain you’re willing to endure for...for...for what? 

But the pain only lasts for a moment, flashing by like lightning. As you try to reach deeper, it slips through your fingers. Just as suddenly as it hit you, it vanishes. What remains in its place is the metaphorical iron wall that you always seem to run into every time you try to look into Renjun’s heart.

You can already feel your body starting to forget the pain. It’s so fast that you begin questioning if you even truly felt it in the first place, or if it was all some fever dream. You could also be having a stroke, so there’s that.

All jokes aside, you’re not sure what you’re more surprised by: the fact that Renjun has been feeling like this or how well he’s managed to hide it. 

And you’re not sure what you’re more hurt by: the fact that Renjun didn’t tell you or if you’re the one he’s trying to hide it from.

“—hello? Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Renjun waves his hand in front of your face. 

You jolt, blinking several times as you detach yourself from your whirlwind of thoughts. “S-Sorry! What were you saying?”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Ghosts don’t exist,” you retort automatically.

“Yes, they do! How many times have I told you there’s no way that my glass bottle could’ve fallen from my bed without shattering, yet it was underneath my bed, completely and totally unsc—” He begins to protest. 

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. Thankfully, Renjun stops rambling about his ghost story that you’ve heard about a million times and trails off. His hands slowly come to rest on the small of your back, giving you soothing pats. It makes you sad that he’s always ready to comfort you when he’s the one that needs it. Your vision gets blurry with tears, but you hurriedly blink them away.

“How can you be so smart yet so dumb?” you whisper into his shoulder, clutching him tighter.

“You know, you’re sending me mixed signals here,” he says wryly. 

You hug him for a couple more seconds before pulling back. Reaching your hands up, you cup his face. Unfortunately, you do it a little too enthusiastically and basically slap both of his cheeks. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Renjun!” 

“Ow! What is wrong with you?” he demands, wincing. His lips are adorably jutted out and his words probably aren’t as angry as he wants them to be because you’re squishing his cheeks way too hard. 

“I just wanted to tell you that I will definitely find you a girlfriend. No matter what,” you declare with determination in your eyes.

Because I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. Because you deserve to be happy. Because you should have someone to lean on too, you want to say.

Renjun is staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you dismiss. “Now, hurry up and tell me your ideal type.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

“Oh my gods, I’m fine. Stop with all the questions and just answer me!” you say, placing your hands on your hips.

“I think I’m starting to reconsider my ideal type right now,” he replies, eyeing you suspiciously. 

You sigh loudly. “Could you tell me one character trait that you would like in a girlfriend? Just one. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

He snorts, and you begin to grow frustrated. “Renjun—”

“Stubborn,” he answers. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Of all the things you could’ve chosen, you went with that?”

“I finally answer your question and now you’re shaming me for it?” he shoots back. 

You put your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, sorry. Anything else you can think of?”

“Unpredictable. Hotheaded. Infuriating. Nosy. Reckless. Unable to take anything seriously. No concept of personal space,” he lists them off like he’s has it memorized.

“These are all terrible traits,” you point out, frowning. 

“Tell me about it.”

“Stop messing around,” you snap, giving him a small shove. “Some positive ones, please.”

Renjun pauses. “This might take a second.”

You give him a pointed look, crossing your arms and tapping your foot impatiently. At this point, you’re not even sure if he’s just joking or if he actually means it. However, it’s the only thing you’ve gotten out of him so far, so you have to work with it. 

“Dedicated,” he finally says after some intense pondering.

You exhale in relief. “Thank gods. What else?”

“Kind. Cheerful. Carefree. Funny. Always makes me smile. Marches to her own beat. An open book when it comes to her feelings. Says whatever is on her mind without thinking twice. Gets excited about things that don’t matter. Has a wonderful laugh. Able to see the good in me, even though I’m an asshole—”

As he continues, you eventually stop paying attention to his words and watch his expression. All of his features have softened, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He has the gentlest smile on his face as he talks, but you’re not even sure that he’s aware of it. 

You wouldn’t be a child of Aphrodite if you couldn’t recognize a boy in love, and Renjun certainly fits the bill. 

Suddenly, you feel an ugly sensation twisting in the pit of your stomach, coiling like a poisonous snake. It’s an awful feeling, and it makes you ashamed because it resembles jealousy way too closely for your comfort. You hate feeling like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. In fact, you don’t even know why you’re feeling this way. It’s foreign to you, but you know it’s not coming from Renjun. This is all coming from inside you.

“Stunning in every way,” Renjun finishes quietly. His voice is barely a whisper, but you can hear it clearly, as if it’s right in your ear. 

Digging your nails into your palms, you let out a low whistle. “That was very...specific.”

“Afraid of a challenge?” he counters, smirking. 

His banter makes you grin. It’s almost enough to make you forget the feeling in your stomach. You wonder why you keep getting worked up by yourself. Maybe the summer heat is getting to you, and you really are on the verge of having a stroke. 

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you retort dramatically, clinging onto his arm again. “Alright, let’s go!” 

“Where?” 

“The Training Grounds!” 

“Why there?” His nose crinkles. 

“Your ideal type is as Ares kid as it can get,” you say, snorting. “So, obviously, we’re going to their turf.” 

“Ares children are obnoxious and arrogant,” Renjun scoffs. 

“And you’re a smartass, so it’ll be fine,” you say breezily. 

He rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. 

“You’re such a drama queen. Besides, it won’t be only Ares kids there,” you point out.

He shrugs in a noncommittal manner but ultimately lets you lead him to the Training Grounds. When you arrive, as expected, it’s mainly Ares kids there. For people who aren’t used to it, the Training Grounds could be mistaken for a battle royale, judging by how vicious it can get at times. Even though it’s just a bunch of sweaty young adults angrily swinging swords at dummies and each other. 

Stroking your chin, you begin to scan the area. It’s only when your eyes fall onto Park Sooyoung, the daughter of Ares that’s infamous for making men cower to their knees, that the lightbulb goes off in your head. 

“What about Sooyoung?” you ask excitedly, tugging on Renjun’s shirt. 

He frowns. “She hates me.”

“You don’t know that,” you say.

“She tried to throw a dagger at my head once,” he states flatly. 

“She does that to everyone,” you dismiss. “I think you two would work well together.”

“Please, enlighten me.” 

“She could be the brawn to your brain. She’s super rambunctious, while you’re more reserved and can keep her in check. But she’ll be able to teach you how to live a little, and you’ll just perfectly balance each other out. You know, that whole opposites attract and enemies to lovers trope,” you explain. 

“Enemies to lovers?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say dreamily, “You two start off absolutely despising each other, but neither of you can fight the tension building and eventually just get entangled in the throes of your passion!”

“Okay, Fifty Shades of Grey, calm down,” Renjun says, scrunching up his features in disgust. “Stop writing fanfiction in your head and come back to the real world.”

You glare at him for killing your vibe. “Just go and try to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to be mauled.” There’s actually a small glimmer of fear in his eyes. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not gonna kill you. At least not in front of everyone like this,” you reassure him. 

“So you’re admitting that there is a possibility she would kill me.”

Fed up, you snatch his wrist and begin dragging him. He makes noises of protest, but you keep a vice-like grip on him. Sooyoung is sparring with some of her brothers (and frankly, handing their asses to them). You’re envious of how beautiful she is even with sweat dripping from her chin and tendrils of hair stuck to her neck. Her face is flushed with effort, but it makes her look like a peach. 

However, don’t ever judge a book by its cover because she proceeds to lift one of her brothers, as if she’s bench pressing him, and tosses him aside like a rag doll. He comes flying directly toward you, but Renjun wraps an arm around your shoulders and yanks you aside with his surprisingly quick reflexes. Sooyoung’s brother lands with a hard thud, right beside your feet.

Renjun holds you tightly against him as he scowls at Sooyoung, who is smirking at him. Your heart is pounding wildly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the adrenaline rush of one of Sooyoung’s brothers hurling towards you like a projectile or the way Renjun is cradling you to him.

“Are you out of your mind?” Renjun demands, livid. 

“Sorry about that,” Sooyoung says, trying to hide her amusement. 

“No, you’re not. You did it on purpose,” Renjun snaps. 

“Remove head from ass, Huang. If I didn’t think you’d be able to get her out of the way in time, I wouldn’t have done it,” Sooyoung responds, sounding bored.

“What if I hadn’t? Your tank of a brother would’ve knocked Y/N out,” Renjun says angrily, gritting his teeth. “And trust me, she doesn’t need any more screws loose than she already has.”

“Hey!” you chime in, offended. His arm falls from your shoulders and back to his side when you give him a dirty look. He seems a little surprised, whether the reason be from your sudden protest or how long his arm’s been around you. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sooyoung says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re here to see me, right?” 

Renjun opens his mouth to say something, but you slap a hand over his mouth. “Renjun thinks you’re really pretty and wants to train with you.”

Perhaps you could have delivered it in a smoother manner.

“Mm?” He stares at you with wide, horrified eyes. He’s trying to speak, but it’s all muffled by your palm. 

Sooyoung snorts, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Does he now?” 

“Yes. He’s just too shy to admit it,” you lie through your teeth. 

“Mhm, I’m sure he is,” she laughs. “What’s the actual reason you’re here?”

“Whatever are you talking about? That is the reason,” you answer sweetly. “So, what do you say? Wanna spar him?”

“Mmmmmm!” Renjun has you by the wrist, trying to remove your hand from his mouth, but you won’t budge. 

“You must think I was born yesterday,” Sooyoung sighs. “You’re trying to set us up together, right? Glad to see you’re sticking to your whole matchmaking schtick.”

“Maybe,” you admit sheepishly. “Also, it is not a schtick! I have a natural affinity for finding people that are compatible with each other, like all Aphrodite children, and it is my duty to use that ability in order to help others.”

Despite how proud you look, Sooyoung and Renjun exchange knowing glances, and she reaches forward and gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Stray strong, soldier.”

“Mm,” he responds, sounding tired.

You watch the interaction with a baffled expression. Neither one of them seems intent on providing any context for you. You’re hit with another pang of jealousy. 

“While it would be my utmost honor to be Renjun’s girlfriend, I will have to decline. Firstly, because I would definitely murder him by our third date tops. And secondly, because I already have a girlfriend,” Sooyoung says nonchalantly. 

Your hand goes limp and falls off of Renjun’s mouth, finally freeing him. Your jaw is hanging wide open, a direct invitation for flies. The both of you just stand there and gawk at her. 

“What?” you exclaim, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You have a girlfriend?”

Most Aphrodite kids are just naturally aware of all the couples at Camp Half-Blood whenever they see them, but you make it a point to keep tabs on them so you can avoid incidents like this while you’re trying to find matches for others. Clearly, you’ve missed one. 

“Ye—”

“Who is it?” you demand, resisting the urge to shake her until her bones rattle. “How could I not know about it?”

“Well, that was the goal,” Sooyoung explains, “we want it to be a secret.”

You’re gripping her so tightly that the tips of your fingers have turned white, though you’re sure it doesn’t bother her since she’s pure muscle. You want to know who it is so badly, but you respect her privacy, so you decide to let it go. Even if you really don’t want to.

“I understand,” you say solemnly, begrudgingly releasing her. Your body is slightly twitchy as you fight to control your need to snoop. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Renjun cuts in, half-joking and half-concerned. 

“Today has not gone well for me,” you sigh, spirit crushed by the sudden news and exhausted because of your weird mood swings that have been happening. “I’m hot, and I just want a nice, cold shower, followed by some nice, cold ice cream, and then followed by a nice, warm nap. We’ll try this again tomorrow.” 

“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” Renjun asks. 

You nod, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Sorry to bother you, Sooyoung.”

“No problem. You’ll get ‘em next time,” Sooyoung says, trying to sound encouraging. 

As you turn to pitifully walk away, you notice Sooyoung and Renjun exchange another look in your peripheral. She gives him a thumbs up and he smiles wryly before he also turns to follow you.

It’s just the icing on the cake for your awful day. 

The walk back to your cabin is pretty quiet; Renjun sensing your foul mood and making the wise decision of letting you pout all by your lonesome (not that he’s much of a chatterbox anyway). You’re looking down at your feet as you walk, and he kindly navigates you through crowds and moves you out of the way when campers run by. This is something Renjun does often, since you have a tendency to not pay much attention to your surroundings on a regular basis, so you don’t even think twice about it. 

When you finally arrive, Renjun gives you a comforting pat on the back. “See you tomorrow. I’ll meet you here. Do not barge into my cabin and give me another rude awakening like you did today.”

You give him a strained smile and wink. “No promises.”

Of course, your act doesn’t fool him. He sighs. “Did it really bother you that much that Sooyoung managed to hide her relationship from you? It’s not like you to be so down after one failure.”

Honestly, that’s the least of your concerns right now. Did it hurt your pride? Yes, but you’ve recovered from a wounded pride countless times. 

What bothers you the most right now is the vile jealousy that you’ve stored in your heart. How shitty you felt when he was describing his ideal type (and how absolutely lovestruck he looked), or how bitter you were when you saw that Sooyoung and Renjun were in on something you weren’t. It eats away at you, seemingly within moments, before you even know what’s happening. But why? Where is it all coming from?

This is Renjun you’re talking about. Renjun, your best friend. Renjun, the one who’s always there for you. Renjun, the closest person to you other than your bloodline. 

Or so you thought. 

The pain that you felt from him earlier still haunts you, even if it’s faint. You’ve always seen Renjun as someone you can confide in, no matter what, yet it doesn’t appear like he feels the same towards you. In fact, an irrational part of you thinks you may be the one he’s trying to keep it from. 

And the paranoid part of you thinks Sooyoung knows about it too.

You know it’s horrible to think that, but you can’t control it. Renjun isn’t required to tell you everything he feels just because you do, not that it doesn’t hurt any less. It just bugs you that there could be someone closer to him than even you, which is an incredibly toxic mindset to have. You’re upset by the fact that you’re so possessive of him, yet you can’t seem to let him go either. 

I guess it’s alright if it’s Sooyoung, you admit to yourself, since she has a girlfriend.

You blink.

Wait, what? 

Before you can figure out what the hell your brain meant by that, you feel Renjun place his hand on your forehead. It jars you from your thoughts and you come back to reality, where Renjun is staring at you with furrowed brows as he checks your temperature. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’ve been spacing out all day,” he says, clearly worried.

“F-Fine!” you answer way too enthusiastically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “Just go get some rest.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you nod hurriedly, giving him a two-finger salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early! Don’t oversleep!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, smiling. You can tell he’s still concerned, but your brighter attitude relieves him just a tad. “Oh, and Y/N?” 

“Mhm?”

“I forgot to mention one more trait for my ideal type.”

“What is it?” You wish you had never asked him in the first place. Just when your mood was getting a little better, it sours just as quickly. 

“Dense,” he adds. 

You give him a puzzled look. “Huh?”

“I want her to be dense,” he states simply. 

“No way,” you argue, when his words finally register. “How is it gonna work out if both of you are dense as hell?”

“Who knows? Maybe our denseness will cancel each other out, and we’ll fall in love instantly,” he shrugs.

“Of course. PEMDAS and shit,” you jokingly agree.

“Exactly,” he says, nodding with a deadpan expression. 

You laugh loudly—a big belly laugh that makes Renjun beam. The tension eases off his features, and he seems much more reassured. Your heart swells at how hard he’s trying to make sure you’re okay, not that he would ever admit that.

“Okay, for real now. Bye, Y/N.” He gives you a lazy wave before walking away, shattering your touching moment. 

You huff at how he turned around without even letting you respond, though you still wave back (even if he can’t see it), and go back into your cabin. The moment the door closes behind you, you make a beeline for the shower. Peeling off your sweat-soaked clothes, you close your eyes in bliss when the cold water hits you. 

As you let the water run down your body, you begin to feel more and more like a petulant child that just threw the biggest tantrum ever. You’re embarrassed that you overreacted like that and got so emotional for no reason. You chide yourself for being selfish. Just because you’re upset that Renjun doesn’t confide in you the way you do him, it doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t have someone. You should be happy for him when he finds a person he can fully open up to, even more so than you. Isn’t that what you’re trying to do for him right now? 

You shut the water off before slapping your cheeks hard, giving yourself a wake up call. Resolving to be more composed tomorrow, you decide to just take a nap for now as you change into comfortable clothes and dry your hair off. 

When you get to your bed, you see a small bowl of ice cream on your nightstand. Luckily, your shower didn’t take too long, so it’s still relatively frozen. It’s two scoops of chocolate, which is your favorite. You’re so excited that you almost miss the note tucked underneath the bowl. 

don’t know when you’re going to get out of the shower, so this might just be soup by the time you’re out. if that’s the case, drink it anyways since i went through the trouble of getting it. 

You snort. It’s so like Renjun to write a tactless note like this and not even bother signing off on it. If he’s going to be sweet, he shouldn’t ruin the moment by doing what he always does—opening his mouth (figuratively, in this case). 

But it’s not enough to wipe that big grin off your face, as you carefully fold up the note and put it in your drawer. 

He’s not cute at all.

ও DAY TWO.

The next day is about as successful as the first one, if not worse.

You had woken up with a game plan. Before you went to meet Renjun, you drafted up a list of campers that matched his ideal type (for the most part, since he was a little too specific). The goal was to narrow it down to a couple names before trying to march in head first, since that went disastrously yesterday. 

Unfortunately, instead of things going smoothly like you had hoped, you find yourself banging your head against a tabletop repeatedly.

You and Renjun are currently sitting in the library of the Athena Cabin, having been there for almost an hour now. He’s nearly eliminated your entire list that you so meticulously curated this morning. You’re starting to wonder if he’s purposefully being difficult just to see you riled up.

Renjun watches you hit your head a couple more times before outstretching his hand, catching your forehead in his palm and blocking you from hitting it against the table again. “Stop before you bleed all over the table, and I get stuck scrubbing it out later.”

You raise your head to glare at him. “I’ll show you bleeding all over the table.”

He doesn’t even blink at your threat, infuriatingly unfazed. “Are you done with your list already?”

“No,” you grumble, “I still have some left.”

“So, if I’m not interested in the rest, does that mean we’re done for the day?” he asks.

“Haha,” you say wryly, “you wish. If you don’t pick one, then I’ll just go through the list myself and pick one that I think is the most compatible with you.”

“Damn it.”

“Okay, what about Hyun Seunghee? She’s an Apollo kid. Super talented and sweet, one of the most adorable people on the planet, and loves art just like you,” you suggest.

“Seunghee is a very sweet girl,” Renjun agrees. “But I don’t think I have the energy to keep up with her. She’s even bubblier and more hyperactive than you, and I can barely manage dealing with you.” 

Sighing, you cross out Seunghee’s name on your list while simultaneously flipping off Renjun with your other hand. “Okay, what about Lee Mijoo? She’s one of my sisters, and honestly, she’s way out of your league but I’ll keep her in the running for now.” 

You figure it’s best to not mention that, despite being way out of his league, Mijoo has expressed some very...explicit interest in Renjun before. It’ll make things awkward if they do end up talking, and you aren’t one to expose your own sister like that.

“Ew, no way, that’s weird,” Renjun says, scrunching up his nose.

“What, why?”

“I don’t want to date anyone related to you. That would make us sort of related too, and the last thing I want is to be your brother.” He spits out the word like it’s a stale piece of gum that he’s been chewing for four hours.

“First of all, slow down, tiger. You would have to marry her for us to be related. This is just a casual thing. No one said anything about marriage. Second of all, that is so mean! Why wouldn’t you want to be in-laws with me?” you demand, offended.

“Don’t most people enter relationships with the intention of spending the rest of their lives with each other?” he asks, skillfully dodging your question. “I won’t date someone if I think we’re just going to breakup down the road.”

There’s a beat of silence as you stare at him with wonder. Your lips curl into a gentle smile, and you can’t hide the adoration in your expression. Renjun truly is all bark and no bite. Who would’ve guessed there’s such a lovely and pure person behind his sharp tongue?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks warily. You swear you can see a little pink dusting the shells of his ears and the tip of his nose.

“It’s just...you’re much more of a hopeless romantic than I initially thought, Huang Renjun,” you say teasingly. 

Now, you can definitely tell he’s embarrassed. He mumbles a “shut up” under his breath, but you can barely hear it.

“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you advise, “it’s totally natural to date and breakup. You can love someone with all of your heart, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be your life partner. Loosen up, my friend, and just have fun! Fall in love recklessly, and don’t think about anything else! That’s what youth is all about!”

You expect him to make fun of you for lecturing him like you’re centuries old, when the both of you can barely label yourselves as adults, but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he’s gazing at you with a deep melancholy in his eyes. You’re sitting right across from him, but the way he looks at you makes it seem like you’re galaxies away. Your gut wrenches at how hurt and helpless he seems, like he’s yearning for something that is out of his reach. 

Time seems to slow down as the two of you stare into each other’s eyes, as if you’re both entranced. It’s hard to tell how long you stay like that, but it feels like you’ve woken up in the middle of a sweet dream when Renjun finally breaks eye contact. You’re slightly disoriented, even though it’s probably only been a few seconds.

Clearing his throat, Renjun mutters, “Anyways, don’t put anymore of your siblings on the list.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before sighing. “Fine. But now I’ve run out of names on my list.”

“Well, gosh darn it, what a shame,” he says in a terrible Southern accent while attempting to get up. “Look’s like that’s a wrap for today!” 

“Not so fast,” you cut in, snapping your fingers at him to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.” 

He groans but reluctantly obeys, dramatically throwing his head into his arms when he does.

“Behave while I go through this list again,” you order, putting stars next to names that you’re going to force Renjun to reconsider with. 

“Now, you’re making me want to hit my head against the table,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms.

You ignore his whining, focusing on your current task at hand. Just as you finish narrowing it down to a select few, someone brushes past you and it’s like you hear angels singing. Seo Soojin, daughter of Nemesis and actual hotness personified, walks by. 

Soojin is relatively new to Camp Half-Blood, having arrived for the first time last year. You don’t know much about her personality because she keeps to herself and her tight-knit circle of friends for the most part. You know for a fact that she’s a far cry from Renjun’s type, but you’re starting to think he doesn’t really know what he wants—seeing that he shot down every single person on your list already. She will be a nice change of pace for him.

“What about Soojin?” you ask in a hushed whisper, leaning forward. 

“Who?” Renjun looks around, not lowering his voice or trying to be subtle in the slightest.

“Shhh!” you hiss, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him forward. You pull a little too hard and end up knocking your foreheads together. 

“Ow! Why is your head made out of cast iron?” Renjun winces. He tries to lean back, but you don’t let him escape. 

“Shut up! You’re the blockhead, asshole,” you protest, getting offended for the second time. “Anyways, Seo Soojin. The girl over there. The one with the bangs, big lips, and is hot as fuck?” 

He squints, finally zeroing in on her. “What about her?”

“That’s what I’m asking you, dipshit!” 

Renjun shrugs noncommittally—an action that you’ve grown extremely accustomed to during these past two days, an action that makes you want to rip your own hair out. “She seems nice.” 

“Well, try and talk to her then,” you say, spelling it out for him. “You know, so you can see if the two of you will hit it off or not.”

He gives you a look. It’s the same look that a twelve-year-old kid gives his mother when she makes him take a picture in front of a national monument that he doesn’t know anything about, nor does he care to. However, she insists, so he reluctantly trudges over to it and takes the picture—hands firmly balled up by his sides and his lips pressed into a hard line, no matter how much his mom tells him to smile.

So, in other words, Renjun looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“Are you sure that you’re human?” you ask incredulously. You’re not even being sarcastic at this point; you genuinely want to know how he is able to feel absolutely nothing for women that could rival the goddesses themselves.

“Technically—”

“If you say that you’re only half-human because we’re demigods, you’re going to get a pen through the jugular,” you warn, pointing your pen at him. 

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“You know what I mean, you smartass. Are you or are you not capable of feeling romantic attraction towards another person?” you demand.

“I am,” he simply says.

“That’s it? That was the most robotic answer I’ve ever heard in my life!” you exclaim. 

“What else am I supposed to say?” he asks, throwing his arms up. 

“Have you experienced any blackouts recently, like woken up without memory of the past twenty-four hours? Have you checked your body for any chip implants under your skin?” You eye him suspiciously. “Been beamed up by any UFOs? Gone somewhere haunted?” 

Renjun gives you a pointed look, sighing. “While it is touching to know that you do, in fact, listen to me whenever I talk about topics I’m interested in, this is not how I wanted you to apply your knowledge.”

“You know, now that I think about it, you sure talked about alien abductions a lot,” you say, stroking a fake beard on your chin. “Could it be because you were actually abducted by aliens and got brainwashed into gathering information about us demigods, but they took away your ability to feel emotions so they wouldn’t get in the way of your mission?” 

You pause, waiting for his reaction. Renjun is very obviously trying not to smile, with his chin being propped up by his palm and his fingers covering his mouth. “Please, continue.” 

“But ultimately, that will be your fatal flaw and the downfall of your mission because you can’t empathize like humans can,” you finish dramatically. 

“Alright, let’s say I was brainwashed by aliens. Why would I then draw more attention to myself by talking about the very thing that happened to me? Wouldn’t that be counterproductive?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Reverse psychology,” you explain, “you talk about them, so you won’t seem suspicious.” 

Renjun exhales sharply before looking down at his feet. You can see his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh, though you’re pretty sure that exhale from before was a small laugh. You’re grinning, despite the fact that you’re also trying to keep up your detective act.

“I’m kind of wish I had been abducted by aliens right about now. Maybe brainwashed me would be a little more courageous,” he mutters under his breath. You’re not sure if you were meant to hear that, but you do anyways. 

“That sounds exactly like something someone abducted by an alien would say!” you say in an accusatory tone, pointing a finger at him. He rolls his eyes, but a tiny smile eventually makes its way to his lips. 

You gasp loudly, grabbing his face and pulling it towards your own. He makes a small noise of surprise, eyes as wide as UFO saucers. Your faces are so close that your noses are slightly brushing up against one another, but you’re not paying attention to that right now. 

“Or you could be a lizard person,” you whisper, “you know, the ones that people think take the place of government officials.”

“They’re called reptilian humanoids,” Renjun corrects. His breath (which smells like the blueberry muffin he had this morning) rustles your baby hairs. 

“Your eyes are glowing yellow, and your pupils are turning into slits,” you tease.

“Are they, now?” 

No, they aren’t. His eyes are a cool, icy gray, like most Athena children. It’s always been a trait you’ve been jealous of. They sparkle like stars, or freshly fallen snow. They change according to his mood too. For example, when he gets angry, there are no stars. Instead of twinkling, they flash like lightning. His eyes are truly the window to his soul; they’re one of your favorite things about him.

Renjun slightly leans into your touch, and it finally hits you how close he is. You’re cupping his face with both hands, tilting his chin up, and it looks like you’re about to...kiss him.

 It seems you’re not the only one who thinks so, because almost the entire library is gawking at you. Including Seo Soojin. She looks surprised, and slightly disgusted, by the two of you.

Oh.

You feel heat rise from your neck to your entire face.

Oh gods, they all think we’re a couple.

You recoil away from him, withdrawing your hands like your just burned yourself. “We have to get out of here.”

“What?” As always, Renjun doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Just come on,” you say quickly, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the library. 

Your face burns for a long time after that, and you can no longer focus on anything else. In the end, you decide to call it a day after a few more half-hearted attempts to find more candidates for Renjun. When you come back to your cabin, you take another cold shower. 

You’re not sure what you’re so flustered by: the fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing or the fact that everyone in the library saw it.

Or the fact that you didn’t mind the notion of being mistaken for a couple with Renjun.

ও DAY THREE.

You don’t meet bright and early with Renjun today. He demanded to sleep in this time, since he’s not an early riser to begin with and the past two days have sucked all the energy out of him. 

Which means you’re free until noon. You check the time—10 AM. 

Two hours to kill. 

You don’t feel like getting all sweaty and hot, so any activity outside is out. You really don’t want to be judged by more Athena kids in the Arts and Crafts Center without Renjun. So, you decide to head back to the library, despite how yesterday went.

You check out a book that goes into depth about some of the most believable conspiracy theories; Renjun actually read it a while ago (and totally geeked out about it to you), but who would have thought that you would end up reading it too? Past you definitely would’ve laughed in your face if you told her that. 

Once you get back to your cabin, you curl up in your covers and begin to read. You get about two chapters in when you hear the door open and Jeong Jaehyun, one of your brothers, walks in. He’s wearing his orange t-shirt that’s soaked with sweat, and his hair is dripping from perspiration too. His pale skin glistens, and he looks like a sweaty and sparkly vampire. 

“Hey, kid,” Jaehyun says, nodding at you. He isn’t that much older than you, but he’s gotten into the habit of calling you kid for some reason.

“This is a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come back from training before 5 PM,” you tease.

He lets out a low whistle. “Way too hot out there. I needed to get some A/C before I had a heatstroke—is that a book in your hand?”

“What about it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Jaehyun snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you near a book, much less read one.”

“Rude. I am expanding my horizons,” you retort. 

“It seems so. What was up with you and Renjun at the library yesterday?” Jaehyun plops down on the edge of your bed. 

“How do you even know about that?” you ask, wrinkling your nose. “And go take a shower first before you sit on my bed! You stink!” 

“Do I?” He waggles his eyebrows and throws his arms around you in a bear hug. You try your best to shove him off, but he has a hold on your like a python. 

“I hate you,” you say when he finally pulls back, sniffing your shirt to make sure you still smelled like your fabric softener. “Anyways, how’d you find out about the library thing?”

“Rumors spread fast around here, dear sister. But, seriously, what’s the deal?”

“There is no deal, Jaehyun,” you sigh, closing your book. “It’s all just a misunderstanding. We were joking around while I was trying to find a potential girlfriend for him there—which, by the way, is going horribly. I don’t think he feels romantic attraction properly like everybody else.”

“Oh right. I forgot you roped Renjun into your matchmaking thing,” Jaehyun says, disappointed. “Damn, and here I thought he finally made a move.”

Your head snaps up to give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“What?” He tilts his head.

“What did you mean by that, the part where you said you thought Renjun finally made a move?” you ask. 

Jaehyun stares at you for a couple of seconds, an astonished expression on his face. “Do you really not know?” 

“Would I be asking if I didn’t know?” you shoot back, annoyed that he still hasn’t answered you. 

“Gods, all this time, I thought you were just pretending like you didn’t know because you didn’t want to make things awkward,” he continues, shaking his head.

“Jaehyun, what are you talking about?” you demand.

“Renjun is in love with you, Y/N.”

You gape at him. It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down because you definitely would have fallen on your ass if you had been standing.

“Th-Th-That’s impossible,” you stammer, like an absolute idiot. “There’s n-n-no way.”

“Oh, come on, lil’ sis. He’s never even tried to hide it. He’s so obvious about it that I seriously don’t understand how you didn’t know,” Jaehyun snorts. “You don’t even need to have powers to see that he’s head over heels for you.”

“But—but how? I would’ve sensed it!” you exclaim.

“You’re so sharp when it comes to other people, but you’re dense as hell when it comes to yourself,” Jaehyun points out, shrugging. “You just never paid attention, Y/N.”

You don’t respond. Your mind is a mess, a jumbled mishmash of emotions. You’re feeling so many things right now, and you can’t pinpoint any of it.. You wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out.

“Do you like him back?” Jaehyun asks softly. 

“I—no! Of course not. Renjun’s my best friend. If I liked him, why would I be trying to find him a girlfriend right now? That’d be stupid of me. Yeah, that’d be so dumb. Why would I do that?” You’re rambling now, and it’s glaringly obvious that you’re trying to convince yourself rather than Jaehyun (and you know he can see it too).

“It doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard, though.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask defensively. 

“The Y/N I know spends all hours of the day gathering information on her potential matches and making sure even the tiniest detail goes according to her master plan that she’s already drafted inside her head. She wouldn’t be sitting here, leisurely reading a book, especially if it’s going horribly. She would be doing everything in her power to get things back on track,” Jaehyun notes. “Ask yourself. Do you really want Renjun to get a girlfriend?” 

“Wh-Why wouldn’t I?” You ask him, hoping he knows the answer, because you sure as hell don’t know. 

“Because he won’t always be there anymore. He won’t have time to let you constantly drag him into your antics anymore. You won’t be his number one anymore. His girlfriend will be his first priority, of course, as she should. Think long and hard about that, Y/N. Will you be okay with that?”

“I—” The words seem to die inside your throat as you come to realization that you might not be okay with that at all. You’ve always gone to Renjun for everything and knowing that he may not always be there makes you feel lost, like a compass without it’s True North. You’re being selfish again, but it seems like you’ve gotten into the habit of acting selfish whenever it comes to Renjun. You’ve let yourself grow too reliant on him. 

“Why do you care so much anyways?” Now, you’re deflecting. “Why did you tell me all of this?”

“Because you’re my little sister and I care about you. I want you to be one hundred percent sure of your own feelings, so your heart doesn’t get broken. The only reason I didn’t say anything sooner was because I thought you were already sure. Take some time and think about it, Y/N. It’ll be better for your friendship with Renjun if everything is crystal clear between the two of you,” Jaehyun advises, giving you a pat on the shoulder. He gets up, presumably to take a shower, and leaves.

You barely notice him go.

You sit in your bed, staring blankly at the wall, until Renjun finally arrives. He’s still a little groggy, probably having woken up ten minutes ago before coming. His clothes are a little rumpled and his hair isn’t styled, with his bangs flopping in his eyes. Normally, you would have made fun of him and mussed it up, but you have other things on your mind as of the moment. 

Like always, he can tell something is up. He gets that concerned look on his face—the one where he has a deep crease between his brows and his rosy lips are turned downwards. 

“What’s wrong?” He places a hand on your arm, lowering his head so he can’t get a better look at your face. 

Physical contact with Renjun has always been something normal for you, but suddenly, you’re now acutely aware of everything about him. You can feel the pad of every one of his fingertips on your bare skin, the warmth of his palm, and just how easily his touch makes your body relax. Even when your brain is a whirlwind of thoughts, your muscles, like clockwork, instantly loosen up with just a brush of his hand.

“We need to talk,” you say shakily, moving away from him. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes as his hand falls to his side. You feel bad, but the longer he’s touching you, the more confused you get. 

You lead him a secluded area behind the Dining Pavilion, and he follows wordlessly. He waits for you to speak as the two of you stand there. Now that you’re here, you don’t really know what to say anymore. 

“Are you in love with me?” you blurt before you can stop yourself. “Jaehyun said—”

“Yes,” Renjun answers. If he’s surprised or taken aback whatosever, he doesn’t show it. In fact, it seems like he knew this was coming. There’s no fear or hesitation in his eyes. He’s unwavering in his answer, and you wonder how he can always be so certain of his feelings. 

“How long?” you ask tentatively. 

“Probably when we first met,” he says. 

“Why?” 

“Are you asking me why I’m in love with you?” He raises an eyebrow. 

You’re not sure. You’re not sure of anything anymore.

When you don’t answer, Renjun looks at you for a very long time. “You make me happy, Y/N. No matter how shitty things get, no matter how much I want to ram my fist through a wall, I see you and it’s like I can finally take a breath again. When you smile at me, I forget about everything that was bothering me. You and your daily shenanigans are the best part of my day. You’re obnoxious and frustrating and exhausting, but I fucking love you for it. I’m at your beck and call; I’d do anything for you. Whenever you’re happy, I become happy too. Nothing else matters to me anymore. That’s why.”

“You should have told me,” you say, voice cracking. Your heart is singing with joy, and you want to cry with relief. He talks about you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and you so desperately want to be exactly that for him. You’re not confused anymore. Everything has finally become clear for you now. You truly wonder how you managed not to notice anything at all—whether it be your own feelings or his. 

“I knew it would upset you,” he murmurs. 

But then it hits you. 

You can’t even fathom how much Renjun has had to endure throughout the years. He’s loved you all this time, yet he hasn’t said a word—out of consideration for you. In everything he’s ever done during the course of your friendship, he has always put you first. Even if it hurts him, he was willing to withstand it for your sake.

Yet all you’ve done for him is force him into letting you try to find a him a girlfriend, despite the fact that he was against it, and he had to pretend like he was okay as he watched you parade around like a fool telling him to love someone else. 

You don’t deserve to be loved by someone like Huang Renjun.

You don’t deserve to love someone like Huang Renjun.

Suddenly, you begin to feel nauseous—probably sickened by guilt. Black spots dot your vision, and your legs start wobbling. Your body collapses only moments after, but luckily, Renjun manages to catch you before you can hit the pavement. 

“Y/N? Y/N? Hey, talk to me,” you can hear him say very faintly. He’s cradling you against his chest, and you bury your face in it. Your head is spinning, but you feel surprisingly grounded in his arms.

Has he always smelled this nice? His scent is a mixture of books and sandalwood, and you’re basically crushing your nose against his chest like an absolute pervert. You don’t feel embarrassed because you know you can blame it on being sick later. 

Speaking of sick, even though Renjun smells so good, you proceed to lean forward and vomit all over him and yourself.

Once again, you don’t feel that embarrassed because you black out soon after.

ও DAY FOUR.

You wake up tucked nicely under your covers. Much to your relief, you’re also in clean clothes—your favorite set of heart pajamas. Unfortunately, that’s the only bright side to your current state.

It feels like you haven’t had a sip of water in ten years, and your lips feel like they’ve been glued together. Even the tiniest movement makes your head feel like someone is drilling into your skull. Your body feels twenty times heavier, and not to mention, you just generally feel like shit because of what happened with Renjun.

“Oh my gods, you look so creepy right now. Who just lays there with their eyes wide open? If you’re awake, you should say something,” a voice chides. Turning your head just a smidgen (and wincing because of the pain), you see your sister, Lee Mijoo. She has a glass of water in her hand, setting it on your nightstand.

“How long have I been asleep?” you ask hoarsely. 

“Let’s see. Renjun brought you back at like 2 PM yesterday, and it’s now 8 PM, so...thirty hours?” Mijoo counts on her fingers. 

“Fuck,” you groan.

“Heatstroke will do that to ya,” she says, making a clicking noise with her tongue.

“I had a heatstroke?”

“Yep. It was a pretty nasty one too. You really did a number all over Renjun’s shirt. It was like a vomit Picasso,” Mijoo says, sounding kind of impressed.

Your face burns from humiliation. 

“Here, sit up and drink this water,” she orders, helping you get up. Your head is screaming in pain, like a million little jabs to your brain. You down the water in one big gulp, not realizing just how dehydrated you were until your lips hit the water. 

“So, you and Renjun, huh?” Mijoo asks sheepishly.

If you still had water in your mouth, you would’ve spat it out. “What?”

“Jaehyun told me everything,” she explains.

Traitor, you think to yourself.

“Don’t be mad at him. Renjun looked like a kicked puppy when we saw him. There’s no way I wouldn’t have asked questions,” she says. “Did you break his heart, little sister?”

You sigh, putting the cup back on your nightstand. “I hope not. His heart shouldn’t be broken by someone like me.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means that he shouldn’t concern himself with me,” you sigh.

“Well, he does. He came to check up on you like a billion times. I had to ban him from coming back until tomorrow,” Mijoo snorts. “He’s a really good guy, you know.”

“Trust me,” you say, rubbing your temples. “I know that better than anyone.”

“So, what’s stopping you? I would be all over that.”

You glare at her before letting out another sigh. “He’s too good for me, Mijoo.” 

“That’s for him to decide, no?” She raises an eyebrow.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying the truth,” you say. 

“So, you won’t mind if I date him?” she asks seriously.

Your face falls instantly, and Mijoo doubles over laughing. 

“Geez, Y/N, you looked like you were about to claw my eyes out!” She wipes away a tear.

“Very funny,” you say dryly. 

“But what if I had been serious? What would you have done then?”

You don’t answer.

“I think you really, really like Renjun, Y/N,” Mijoo whispers loudly.

“I think I love him,” you whisper back.

“Then, you should probably tell him.”

“Yeah, I should,” you echo.

Ignoring the major migraine you have and the fact that you’re still a little sluggish, you throw your covers off of you. You don’t change out of your pajamas, simply throwing a thin cardigan over it. 

“Uh, Y/N, maybe you should wait until you feel be—”

“No, I have do it now before I change my mind,” you cut her off, slipping on your tennis shoes.

You hear Mijoo call after you, but you’re already out of the door. The Athena Cabin isn’t too far from the Aphrodite Cabin, so the walk is short. Much to your surprise once you’re inside, he isn’t there.

Grabbing the nearest Athena kid you see, you ask, “Where’s Renjun?”

“Um, I think he went to the amphitheater?” 

The amphitheater is a bit further, so you promptly release and thank the kid, before taking off. You’re not sure if running is recommended right after a heatstroke, but you do it anyways. By the time you get there, your cardigan is slipping off and you’re dripping with sweat from the humid summer heat. 

The amphitheater is extremely crowded, since there was probably a performance tonight. It’s actually a little hard to see over all the people. However, you find Renjun pretty quickly.

You see him standing off to the side, away from everyone else. He’s staring emptily at the stage, hands tucked inside his pockets. He looks so tired and dejected. His entire body slumps as if it’s too exhausting to stand up straight anymore. 

All because of you.

You wait until you finally catch your breath, opening your mouth to call out to him. But you don’t ever get the chance to because a girl walks up to him. You can’t tell who she is because the back of her head is facing you, and you see Renjun give her a small smile before saying something.

The girl laughs and turns her head, giving you a view of her side profile.

Hwang Yeji.

All of the courage you had inside you withers away like a dying flower.

You take a step back, accidentally bumping into someone behind you. They say something to you, but you don’t hear it at all. Instead, you turn on your heel and run. You run wildly and blindly, nearly whizzing right past your cabin. You’re barely able get back inside, eyes so blurry with tears that you can’t even see where you’re going. 

When Mijoo sees you, she doesn’t ask any questions. She just turns on the shower for you, extra hot. You step in without a word, letting the water mix with the tears running down your face. 

It’s not that you think Renjun is in love with Yeji now. In fact, you know he’s not. It’s just that they would be much better together. 

Yeji is one of the sweetest girls you know. She would treat Renjun with the kindness he deserves. She would consider his feelings first before making him do anything. She would make him happier than you ever could. They would be so compatible, and if you weren’t in love with Renjun yourself, you would definitely be trying to set the two up. 

After your shower, you change into the clothes Mijoo set out for you—an oversized sweater with cotton shorts—and miserably crawl back in bed. You’re so drained that you don’t even have the energy to drink the fresh glass of water on your nightstand. 

Everything hurt—mentally and physically. 

Your heart aches most of all. You’ve dated here and there, gone through some breakups, but nothing has ever been as painful as this. 

It’s a pain that consumes you whole. A pain that makes you want to scream but no sound will come out. A pain that makes you want to tear your heart out. A pain that makes you wish a bunch of aliens abducted you and brainwashed you into not feeling any emotions anymore.

It’s the same pain that you thought you felt from Renjun on the first day of when this all began.

And then the last puzzle piece finally falls into place.

That pain was never his.

It has always been your own.

You love Renjun too, and you’ve loved him for a very long time.

ও DAY FIVE. 

“Come on, Y/N. At least get up to wash your face and brush your teeth,” Mijoo pleads.

You ignore her, pulling your covers over your head and turning away. It’s already well into the afternoon, but you’ve been feigning sick so you didn’t have to get up. The rest of the Aphrodite children have left and gone about their various activities throughout the camp, but Mijoo was tasked by Jaehyun to take care of you.

“If you just do that, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day,” she bargains. 

You think about it for a second before sighing, begrudgingly sitting up. You can see the pity dripping out of her eyes when you brush past her to head to the bathroom. When you see yourself in the mirror, you can understand why.

Puffy eyes, matted hair, tear-stained cheeks, and chapped lips. It’s too bad you hadn’t been wearing mascara last night because the only thing you’re missing in your hot mess look right now are those dark smudges right under your eyes.

You brush you teeth, which takes a lot more effort than you realize, and splash water on your face. Not even bothering to brush your hair, you head straight back to bed. True to her word, Mijoo doesn’t say anything else after that.

That is, until a couple hours later.

“Um, so I know I said I would leave you alone, but I think you might want to get up for this one, Y/N,” she whispers. You can’t see her because you back is turned to her, but you can tell by the tone of her voice that it’s important.

Irritated, you yank the covers off you and sit back up once again. “Mijoo, I—”

You almost choke on air when you realize Mijoo isn’t alone. Renjun is right beside her, looking not much better than you. He’s in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it and called it a day, and he has purple bags under his eyes.

“Can we talk?” Renjun asks. 

You hesitantly nod. 

“I’ll, uh, give you two some privacy,” Mijoo says awkwardly before turning around and running out of the cabin. 

You don’t know what to do now, staring down at your clasped hands. You hear Renjun take a step forward, and you feel the edge of your bed dip under his weight. There’s a sizable gap between you and where he’s sitting, but he’s still close enough for his scent to waft over to you. He smells wonderful like usual, and you hope you don’t stink in return.

“How are you feeling?” Renjun asks quietly.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly.

He laughs under his breath. “I know what you mean.” 

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel giddy all of a sudden when you see him smile. How did you manage to turn into a lovesick little schoolgirl over night? 

“I talked to Yeji last night at the amphitheater,” Renjun says after a moment. 

“I know,” you mutter. 

He blinks. “You do? How?” 

You’re not sure how to answer that.

“Well, that doesn’t matter right now,” he dismisses, taking in a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I ran into her after I checked up on you, and she invited me to watch her performance. I wasn’t going to say yes at first, but I thought it would make you happy if I did. I tried, Y/N, I really tried. Yeji’s a nice girl, but I can’t help how I feel. I love you, Y/N. It’s always been you, and it always will be. I’m not asking you to love me back. I just want to stay by your side, as your friend, if you’ll allow it. I—”

“Stop,” you interrupt, scooting closer to him and putting a hand over his mouth. “I have to tell you something.” 

Renjun gives you a bewildered expression but nods nonetheless. 

You remove your hand from his mouth, before taking in a deep breath of your own. “You’re my best friend, Renjun, and I’ve always confided in you for everything. I took you for granted, and I only thought about myself. Deep down, I think I’ve always known about your feelings and my own, but I was afraid to dig for it. I was comfortable, and I didn’t want to ruin that, even though you were hurting. I’m truly sorry for treating you that way, Renjun. From now on, I want you to tell me everything—the good, the bad, the ugly. Don’t bottle things up for my sake.”

He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop him.

“The reason why I knew you were with Yeji at the amphitheater last night is because I was there too. I went to look for you,” you finally confess. “When I decided I was going to find a girlfriend for you, I thought I would be able to step aside when you did find someone. But once I saw you with Yeji, I realized that I couldn’t do it. What I want with you isn’t a friendship anymore. I’m in love with you, Renjun. I have been for a long time, and it took me four, almost five, years to see that because I never thought to listen to my own heart until now. I don’t think I will ever deserve you in his lifetime, but I love you. I’m selfish and I’m a mess and I always cause trouble for you, but I—”

Renjun wraps an arm around your waist and tugs your body flush against his. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek as his thumb lightly runs across your cheekbone. You’re clutching his shirt like a lifeline, holding your breath, as you stare into those gray eyes.

“You,” he whispers, his lips barely brushing against yours, “are more than I deserve.”

He leans in and closes the infinitesimal gap between your mouths. He kisses you desperately, like you’ll disappear any moment, and you can feel all of the emotions he’s been locking away. His arms are wound tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. You weave your hands through his hair, and he deepens the kiss. Your shirt rides up as you shift, and you feel his hand slip up your shirt and rest against your back. It ignites a fire within you and you want to tell him to take it off completely, but your lungs are screaming for air, so you have no choice but to pull away.

“Sorry,” Renjun says breathlessly, his chest heaving up and down, as he takes his hand out from under your shirt.

“No, I liked it,” you say, shaking your head and placing your forehead against his. “I just ran out of air.”

“No,” he disagrees, “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss, but I lost control.” 

He tugs your shirt back down and gently sets you back down next to him. You can’t help but giggle at how flustered he is. It’s not often that Athena children, especially Huang Renjun, loses control of their emotions like that. 

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he says wryly, rolling his eyes. 

“You know,” you say in a sing-song voice, “I still technically never broke my streak. I found you a girlfriend within five days.”

“Does it really count if you ended up being my girlfriend?” He raises an eyebrow. “Seems a little unprofessional to me.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” you taunt.

“You also said you were going to make me fall in love so hard that I’d forget my own name,” he points out. “And I didn’t, so that’s false advertising. Unprofessional and unethical? I could sue you.” 

“You are so petty,” you squint. “And come on! That kiss didn’t make your forget? It made me forget!”

“I don’t like you that much.” He deadpans.

“Huang Renjun, you are so not cute!” 

4 YEARS AGO.

“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” Renjun says, trying to act casual about it.

You look so happy that Renjun would have painted a thousand more if you asked him to. You have a smile that could make the goddesses envious, and he can barely hear what you’re saying over the thumping of his own heart. He hopes his expression looks somewhat elusive because he’s not sure how to handle himself right now. 

You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. 

Renjun feels like he’s been shot by Eros’ arrow. He used to never understand why everyone was so wary of Eros; he’s basically just a mascot for corny Valentine’s Day cards. Apollo and his children avoid Eros and his children like the plague. Though granted, Eros did force Apollo to fall in love with Daphne and then she ended up turning into a tree. So, there is a little bit of history there. Point being, Renjun just didn’t get it.

But he think he does now.

“Thank you so much!” you say excitedly, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N!”

Renjun just stupidly stares at you. He’s not even sure if he’s worthy to touch your hand, but he also doesn’t want to be rude. He carefully shakes your hand, unable to say a word.

“What’s your name?” you ask, tilting your head. 

Is it possible for a person to be this adorable? he thinks to himself.

“I’m...” 

You’re looking at him, waiting expectantly.

“I’m...”

You’re still smiling, but he can see the slight confusion in your eyes. He’s never felt like more of a moron in his life. 

“Ren...jun,” he finally says after an extreme amount of concentration. 

You beam at him, and he wonders if he’s the only one seeing the ring of light surrounding you. There’s no way you aren’t Aphrodite’s favorite child.

“Nice to meet you, Renjun! Let’s be friends.” 

Renjun isn’t sure he wants to be just friends, but he finds himself nodding along anyways. 

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in trouble.

[after-witch]

Oh Sugar Sugar (Part 1) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Title: Oh Sugar Sugar (Part 1) (Yandere L Lawliet x Reader)

Synopsis: You’re the loving owner of a cute little pastry shop. A new regular falls in love with your pastries... and in love with something else, too. 

Word Count: 1754

Notes: yandere 

You hummed a little to yourself as you set out this morning’s special goodies in the display case. In addition to the daily treats that customers had come to expect--morning muffins, assortments of bagels, fruit tarts and crispy macarons with fillings that changed every day--you had a daily case filled with more detailed small pastries and cakes. You loved making these most of all, because they allowed you to truly take your time and focus on small, lovingly made details that weren’t present on bagels or muffins or the treats people liked to buy in bunches of a dozen.

These treats were far too ornate and time-consuming to make in large quantities, and sometimes there might be only one or two of each treat available. You especially loved when customers would eat these in the cafe itself; you loved seeing them snap photos for social media, then take that first bite and immediately forget about their phones as they savored the caramelized crusts or gooey handmade fillings or delicate chocolate ganaches.

You glanced at the candy pink clock on the wall, noted the time, and undid the latch keeping your little bakery closed to the public. At exactly 7 AM every morning, La Belle Pâtisserie--you secretly hoped that regulars would call it “La Belle’s”--was open for business.

You cheerfully placed yourself behind the register and waited with ease for the customers you’d come to expect every morning. A businessman whose schedule was so tight that you always had his order ready and waiting by the register before you opened up; a mother and daughter on their way to the girl’s school, grabbing macarons and sometimes a special cake to tuck into her lunch bag; ordinary people with ordinary lives, and you couldn’t be happier that your little place was part of that.

After the morning rush, you usually had some time to pop back into the kitchen and work on batches for the after-work rush or sometimes for tomorrow’s case. As you pulled out a tray of cooling blueberry macarons, you heard the doorbell chime go off and immediately piped up, sweet as--well, blueberry macarons: “Just one moment, please!” You heard a noise of affirmation, and as soon as you could set the tray down to cool, you walked back behind the register.

It was an older gentlemen, with salt and pepper hair and a business suit. Maybe a businessman on his break, you thought.

You smiled, bright and peppy. You loved your work and you hoped it always showed through how you interacted with clients, ‘customer service voice’ and all. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir? I don’t recognize your face, and I know all of my clients, so I’m happy to help you with any questions you have about our offerings today.”

His smile was cordial, if a bit stiff. “Thank you.” His eyes glanced over your cases, quickly taking in treats, cookies and cakes. Finally his eyes rested on your special case, filled with the delicacies and pastries that you poured your heart and soul into every night. “Do you have more of these in the back? I would like to get as many as possible.”

Your smile turned sympathetic. “Oh, I’m sorry, these are special items and I only have what’s in the case. They take much longer than our other items.”

“Hmm.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then sighed and took a wallet out of his pocket. “I suppose I’ll take everything in that case, then,” he said, gesturing to your special case.

You practically sputtered. “The--the entire case? Are you sure, that’s a lotta--I mean, the total will be… are you sure?”

He gave a low, throaty chuckle. “I’m perfectly sure, miss.” He handed over a few large bills, enough to cover everything in the case and then sum. “I assume you accept tips. Please keep the remainder as a tip to make up for the pain of packing all these up.”

You accepted the money gratefully, stuttering out a few questions about bags before practically dashing around the register area like a mad chicken as you dutifully packed up each and every item. Of course, you took care to pack them as nicely as you would for someone buying just a single pastry--presentation was about the entire package, not only the pastry itself but the box, the ribbon, the daintily embossed logo in the center.

You thanked the man profusely on his way out, and when the door shut behind him--how he managed to balance all of those boxes, you’ll never know--you immediately yanked your cellphone from your apron pocket and texted your best friend about the enormously large and unusual sale.

**

The older gentlemen, as it turned out, became another one of your regulars. A few times a week he would come in and make a large purchase, leaving you with a nice tip. Once it became clear that he liked to empty out your entire specialty case, you began making a few extras each evening, since you didn’t want your other regulars to feel put-out by a complete lack of your familiar special pastries and cakes. It took more time, and you found yourself napping during your lunch break to catch up on much needed-rest, but the happiness of your customers was a deeply entrenched priority for you.

The older man always came in the late morning, during a lull, which was why you found yourself almost gaping when you turned around from your not-quite-closing-but-getting-there cleaning and saw him standing at the register.

“Oh!” You said, turning on your customer service smile. “I’m surprised to see you here this late!” You took a moment to look him over, and noticed that he looked slightly disheveled. It was unusual, but then, he was perhaps rushing to your shop to make it before it closed.

“I’m sorry to come this close to closing,” he said, slightly out of breath, confirming your suspicions. “But it’s an emergency.” He paused. “Well, a pastry emergency. I need one of your cakes.”

You chuckled. “You know, I shouldn’t say things like this, but too many sweets might not be good for you! I hope you aren’t eating them all at once.”

“Ahh,” he said, fiddling with his front suit pocket. For a moment you worried that you may have offended them. Good going, you thought to yourself, being rude to a loyal customer.

“Actually, I’m not a fan of sweets.” Your confusion must have shown on your face, so he quickly continued. “I’m buying them for an… associate. He can’t get enough of them. Especially when he’s busy working on something stressful--but he doesn’t want cakes from other bakeries now, only yours. Which is why I came so late, you see.”

“Ohhh.” It makes sense. The idea that someone wanted one of your cakes so much that they avoided other bakeries and sent someone running down before you closed is incredibly flattering, though you can’t help feel a twinge of sympathy for the older man who’s been running--well, cake errands.

“In that case!” You smiled, setting aside your flattery and slight pity. “I will pick something special out for your friend. Hopefully it will help him de-stress! One moment please.” You quickly dart into the kitchen and head to your decorating table. You were just finishing up a cake that was supposed to go in the case for tomorrow morning, but you didn’t have any specialty cakes left in the case. It was a crepe cake, strawberry flavored, with a special hardened chocolate ganache top.

You quickly grabbed some boxes and ribbons to pack it up, but paused. He said his associate was stressed, and this associate was technically a great regular customer of yours, so why not add something extra nice? You picked up an icing tube and quickly scooped a batch of strawberry icing inside. With a practiced hand, you made a few strawberry shaped dollops on the chocolate disc; you dipped a toothpick on the pot of chocolate ganache and used them to make the seeds. Then, almost as an afterthought, you used the tube to add small, decorative hearts next to the strawberries.

You took great care to wrap the box up extra nicely, tying the ribbon picture-perfect, before you brought it out to the register. You dutifully took the payment (and, as you noticed, another excellent tip) and held out the box for inspect. The elder gentlemen took the box and, upon noticing that you’d written something on the top, raised both of his eyebrows, but said nothing. He thanked you for finding something suitable and promised he’d be back again soon.

Little did you know that your sweet little gesture would be your undoing.

**

Watari set the box down on the coffee table in front of L, who glanced up from a laptop screen.

“The video?”

Watari fiddled with his front pocket, then pulled out a tiny electronic piece from inside. “Just as you asked.”

L nodded approvingly. “Good. Hook it up to that monitor.”

Appeased, L finally glanced down at the cream-colored box, wrapped with a dusty pink ribbon and finished off with the personal scrawl you’d delighted in writing earlier.

It was L’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Watari watched as his lifted the box up with both his hands, bringing it inches away from his face for inspection.

L set the box in his lap, then brought his thumb up to his lips. “Watari. Make the arrangements. I want to meet them as soon as possible.”

He retraced your loopy scrawl on the top of the cake box with his finger, seemingly entranced.

“Please enjoy…. made… with love.”

[wornoutmouse]

OH MY IM SO FREAKIN LATE THIS IS MY FIRST TIME HAVING A DEADLINE. @ozarkthedog (really hope this is the right person)

Day one: Cum Play

As of recently, Tamaki has been acting,...aggressive. You don't blame him, you blame his company. Due to a secret mission off on the coast of Japan, he has been forcing himself to eat wolf hair.

"Babe, can you pass me the lemon pepper seasoning?" You say not looking up from the chicken you were massaging for tomorrow's barbeque. There was silence, "Babe-" you say looking up before feeling something hard and plastic hit you in the middle of the face. "O-Oh bunny! I'm s-s-so sorr-y!" Tamaki stuttered quickly coming to your side as you dropped to your knees in pain. You just closed your eyes and asked the Lord to give you strength. "I promised not to yell." you muttered to yourself.

"It's fine Tamaki." you jumped when Tamaki slammed his fist on the counter, making it crack. "I told you to call me Amajiki Y/N." You jerk your head up to look at your boyfriend. He has never raised his voice, much less said something with this much force unless he was dealing with a villain. You peek up at him, "Amajiki?"

Tamaki's face for once in his life was not red with constant embarrassment. Instead, he was calm and calculated as he looked down at you. You could tell he was breathing shallowly as his pupils dilated, and based on the whiteness of his knuckles, he was doing his best to not being aggressive.

You could feel the hostile energy filling the room by the second so, not wanted to stir any more altercations, you stood up and smiled, "To make it up to me, why don't you finish the seasoning and put it in the fridge to marinate?" You ask standing up, dusting imaginary dust off your legs to help calm your nerves

Before receiving an answer, you quickly turn around, and just as you step out of the kitchen you hear a low snarl from behind you, making you speed up.

When Tamaki is done your sitting on the couch watching TV and Tamaki slides onto the couch all the way at the end. You don't look but you can feel his eyes on you. "Are you scared Bunny?" he asks.

You quirk your eyebrow trying to feign ignorance to how your body was shaking. "Why would I be scared, this isn't a scary movie?" You look over at Tamaki to try and defuse whatever situation was rising, only to evolve into a coughing fit at the violent yellow glow Tamaki's eyes were emitting.

At this point you could see Tamaki's breathing was ragged, "T-Tamaki?" you asked, and at this point, you were stuttering like him. Tamaki shook with something indescribable, "I told you to call me Amajiki!" he growled and that snapped you out of your daze making you leap up startled ad you slowly walk backwards.

"Don't run from me, your only making it worse!" Tamaki said as he stood up looking more like a predator with prey with every step he took.

"The hell wrong with this nigga?" you think to yourself as you locked your shared bedroom door and slip under the bed. "Why the hell did we have to live at the top floor?!" you whisper to yourself wishing you could just jump out the window and head to Mirio's for the night.

You freeze when you hear the door jiggle and you sigh in relief when you realize it's the bathroom door on the other side of the wall. "Bunny.." Tamaki sighed almost sounding like a deranged moan. "He done lost his mind, I'm calling Mirio after this!" you think to yourself.

Tamaki get's to the bedroom door and jiggles the lock scoffing when he feels that it's locked. "That wasn't smart." he says before you hear a hard thump against the door making it click open. 'Did this man just use pressure to unlock the door?" you thought to yourself watching his feet through the thin sliver you could see from under the bed skirt. "He really gon kill me huh?' you thought hopelessly.

You shiver as you hear Tamaki maniacally giggle as he skims through the closet. Luckily for you, your closet was rather large and definitely a decent hiding place, so using his distraction you carefully scoot from under the bed and head towards the door that was thankfully left open. "Make me white and call me Becky." you thought to yourself instantly regretting your decision.

Just as you step out, you feel a hand roughly grab your side and another one come around your neck caressing your chin making sharp nails dig deep enough to draw blood. "Y/n!" Tamaki moaned in your ear before you felt a wet stripe being licked from your neck, up to your ear.

You were harshly pulled back into the room and tossed into the bed. "S-So what you're going to kill me? Cause I called you by your last name?!" you say in disbelieving. Tamaki blinked slowly at you as if looking through a mist. You could tell his brain was clouded by whatever was going on with him.

While a dark grin came over his face, you'd be a lie if you said it didn't slightly turn you on.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Tamaki asks crawling onto the bed in a stalking manner, making you scoot back only to have your ankle grabbed yanking you back towards him. "Oh no Y/n, I'm not going to kill you silly. I'm going to fuck you." you blink rapidly trying to catch up on what he just stated all the while Tamaki's eyes raked over your body as he literally begins to salivate.

"My bunny's skin is so smooth and brown like the earth." Tamaki purrs leaning down to press kisses to your legs, "I want you to feel me, I want you to feel my cum drip down your thighs." Tamaki's words slurred together as if high on your scent. "Or maybe I should make you drink it." he stops applying kisses and simply stares at you, tongue loling out his mouth ever so slightly.

"I'm going to defile you." he moans as he continues to travel up your leg to your center, making you throb as his warm breath ghosts over it. "Amaijiki where is this coming from?" you ask, unsure of what was actually happening or if you should let this behavior continue. "I'm so horny right now, I tried to tell you but you ran away!" he whined into your cunt making you tremble and latch onto his hair making him groan.

Tamaki pulls your damp underwear to the slide before licking a stripe up your entrance. "T-Tamaki!" you yelp. Tamaki raised his eyes and glared at you before lightly slapping your entrance making you jerk at the limited pleasure.

"What did I say about my name?" he said with a low whine. Your eyes widened, "The wolf hair!" you blurt out making Tamaki look at you funny. "It's March, wolves tend to mate between January and April." you explain squealing as Tamaki shoves his index finger all the way to the knuckle inside of you not paying attention to your discovery. You clear your throat, "That's why you are so adamant about your name, It's custom for the female to accept the males." you hum in thought, "Oh wait, that's birds."

You arch your back suddenly as Tamaki forcefully adds a second finger into your body. "You talk when your nervous Bunny." Tamaki whispered in your ears before taking your ear between his sharp teeth. "Don't be nervous, I'm going to make you feel so good."

Tamaki added a third finger, before bending back down to add his tongue into the mix pushing it deep inside of you, making your legs shake from the stimulation. You grip his hair and throw your head back. "I'm close." you stutter out. Tamaki pulls away and you groan as you watch him practically rip off his clothes

"Jesus.." you trail off as you gaze down at his painfully hard dick. "I'm so hard for you Bunny." he groans lazily jerking his cock placing a hand on your shoulder. "Lay upside-down." he says and you raise your eyebrow but comply. It's too late when you realize what was happening as you gaze up at your boyfriend positioning his dick at your mouth. "Tamaki wait-" you choke as Tamaki takes the liberty of shoving his member deep in your throat. You sputter around the girth but he doesn't falter, only giving you the mercy of not moving.

"Your so cute" Tamaki strokes your face before lightly tracing his fingers along your neck, pressing down on it slightly before covering his face in mock embarrassment. "I'm so deep in you Bunny!" unable to respond, you only focus on trying to breathe. Tamaki moves back and forth fucking your face andnot wasting any time on going slow.

"F-Fuck!" you start gagging but that only spurs him on to move faster. "I'm going to come on your face, can I do that please y/n? you'd like that so much huh Y/n?" Tamaki rambled delirious and drooling onto your chest as he grips the underside of your chin moving faster.

Tamaki suddenly pulls out and drags you to the ground, violently jerking off in front of your face. Before you can even say anything more you are forced to close your eyes as you feel his cum hit your face covering your lips. You reach a hand up to wipe it off but Tamaki grabs your hands with an animalistic growl, "Leave it." You feel yourself hoisted up and without any warning, you feel his dick go inside of you, still hard.

Standing up Tamaki bounces you up and down hitting your cervix and with your limited senses, your pleasure was doubled tenfold. Tamaki lays you down onto the edge of the bed and continued to drill into you.

"Fuck! I'm close!" you moan not sure what to grab onto. You gasp when you feel Tamaki's warm tongue swirling on your eyelids as he licks his cum off your face before kissing you making you cringe at the taste. Tamaki pulls out making you whine, 'No I was so close." Tamaki smirked licking his now extended fangs causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You tasted me, now I get to taste you"

Tamaki gets a firm grip on your legs and spread them before eating you out vigorously making you shiver before cum harder than you have in a while with a tearful cry. Tamaki cleans up your release until you're pushing him away from overstimulation and exhaustion.

It's nothing but heavy breathing for a while but you could tell that was ending as Tamaki's face went from pink due to overexertion to red from embarrassment. Knowing what to do, you open your arms and allowed him to hide his face into your neck. "D-Did I scare you?" he asked you chuckle, "No sweetie...I was terrified". Tamaki whined making you laugh as you two fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

[greatbigbellies]

New commission story. This is an anonymous commission about a dysfunctional couple who wind up pregnant with sextuplets! Contains heavy multiples pregnancy, stuffing, humiliation, and discomfort.

They had been dating for three months, and living together for one, and Morgan was already at his wits end. Lilith, his girlfriend, was lovely, and sweet, and pretty, and all the things he wanted in a girl… but she was also ungodly frustrating because of one reason, and one reason only: she refused to do ANYTHING that might be considered work.

She was between jobs, hadn’t so much as taken out the trash, and still hadn’t unpacked from moving in with Morgan! Now he made good money. Morgan could support the two of them and then some, and he didn’t want a maid for a girlfriend, but what he did want was some backup. Coming home from work every day to see Lilith sitting on the couch playing videogames, with a sink full of dirty dishes, a can full of trash, and a pile of takeout containers was absolutely grating.

So finally, he hatched a plan. Something almost cartoonishly vindictive, but it had to be done, as far as Morgan was concerned. He’d ruin her. He’d knock her up, stuff her full of food, and watch her inflate like a balloon. If she wasn’t going to move, then he’d make her physically incapable of moving! Multiples ran in both of their families, so with any luck, she’d land pregnant with more than one. He also did all of the cooking. ALL of it. So sneaking fertility meds into her meals wouldn’t be too difficult either, he’d decided. And so, his campaign of corpulence began.

13 Weeks

“Nrrrrggghhh… come ON! Damnit!” Lilith swore as she attempted to button her favorite jeans. They had been holding up well through the first trimester, stretching with her skin, but that was starting to change. Of course, a lot had changed in the last 3 months… she’d found herself pregnant, with SEXTUPLETS no less, and was dealing with the ramifications poorly. She’d been stress eating a lot, something Morgan had been enabling quite a bit, and her tummy was already showing some growth. Both from food and babies, her waistline had a definite visible baby bump, and her belly button was flattened and preparing to pop.

“What’s wrong?” asked Morgan as he stepped into the room, a smile in his voice. He looked to see her wearing just jeans and a bra, fighting with the waistline of her pants. “I’m too big for my favorite pair of jeans! These have the cute patches in them!” she lamented. “Oh babe...” he trailed off, circling around to her front. He pulled something out of his pocket and knelt down. She eyed him suspiciously, not sure where he was going with this. He revealed the item to be a thin rubber band, which he stuck through the button hole and wrapped both ends around the base of the button. “Voila!” he grinned. She frowned in return. “Really? A rubber band? They’re not buttoned properly, people will judge me!” “Babe, we’re just going to the mall, it’ll be fine, now put a shirt on and do your makeup so we can get going!” he urged. “Are we going by JCPenny’s to get me a bigger wardrobe?” she asked. Morgan had turned to leave but stopped at the question. He had to think of an excuse quickly. 

“Not yet…” he said. “But I’ll get my quarterly bonus soon, then we’ll go clothes shopping then!” he lied. She crossed her arms and glared at him, somewhat temperamental from pregnancy hormones. “You’re really going to make me walk around with unbuttoned pants and a top that rides up because you want to wait for a bonus?!” he grumped. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “We can’t be all willy-nilly with money anymore, Lilith, we have six kids on the way!” he retorted. Her face tightened, then softened. He was right. She rubbed her tummy and sighed. “Yeah, okay, what’s like… one more week with tight clothes? Your bonus is coming in soon right?” He nodded, “Any day now,”

20 weeks

 7 more weeks came and went, and Lilith saw no sign of that bonus… or her feet. Now looking full term with one baby, Morgan had been doing a number on her figure. All of the weight seemed to gravitate to her midriff, and so her tummy grew both with child and with a thin layer of fat. Still despite the small wrapping of chub, her bellybutton managed to work its way into a full fledged outie, about as big around as her thumb. 

She sat on the couch in her usual spot, playing a first person shooter on the console, but it didn’t feel the same anymore. She’d gotten in an argument with Morgan before he went to work. A conversation about job prospects got ugly when Morgan pointed out she was too visibly pregnant for anyone to hire her. “Get comfy babe,” he’d said, almost mockingly, “You’re not going anywhere for a while,” There was some yelling, and swearing, and Morgan ended up stomping out the door, it was an all around rotten day.

That was, until the door opened, to reveal Morgan carrying what had to be $40+ dollars in takeout from Lilith’s favorite restaurant. “Oh my god, babe, what’s all this?” she asked, turning to watch him. “I felt bad about our fight earlier, so I bought enough food to keep you and the babies happy, as a gesture of good will,” he explained. “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet of you, but I already had dinner! I-” “All the better!” he cut her off. “You’re eating for seven now, and the doc said to let you eat as much as you could, so…” he set the bags on the coffee table beside her. Morgan smiled down at Lilith, looking at her with those cold steel blue eyes. Lilith brushed some of her bright blue hair behind her ear and broke eye contact. “I don’t know hon… that’s a lot of food there…” she trailed off.

Morgan sat next to her, between Lilith and the food, and placed a hand on her bare midriff, running a palm over her stretching skin. “I know it feels like a lot, but this is for the babies! We have to get them up to weight by the time you’re full term, and the only way to do that is to eat everything your stomach can handle,” he explained, somewhat firmly. She sighed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, for the babies,” she took the first of three heaping takeout containers full of teriyaki chicken, chow mein, and rice, and got to work. 

Morgan kept close to make sure she ate every last bite, only getting up to bring her water when she asked for it. The first box went down pretty quickly, her pregnant appetite getting the best of her. The second was remarkably slower, and Morgan could see it filling out her tummy, causing it to push farther out, just slightly. By the time they hit the third box, she was struggling. “Babe I’m too full… I’m done,” she whined in protest. “Nope, you need to finish what you started,” Morgan said, once again rather firmly. “Morgan I’m gonna throw up if I push it any more…” He took the plastic fork and gathered a mix of rice, chicken, and noodles, and slowly delivered it to her mouth. “Just one more bite, for the babies,” he smiled coyly. She begrudgingly took the bite and began chewing, brushing her blue hair out of her sweaty face. 

She was the fullest she’d ever felt, her belly feeling overstretched from a combination of growing babies and filled stomach. The pressure radiated from her midriff to make her whole body uncomfortable. She was miserable, and Morgan knew it. He tried not to show his enjoyment, but the truth was this was going better than he could have hoped for. 6 babies would leave her massive, and his mission to stuff her with every calorie under the sun was going smoothly. At this rate, they’d need a bigger bed to both fit on, an expense he was more than willing to make happen.

33 weeks

Lilith’s flip-flops pattered against her feet as she waddled toward the mall food court, moving as quickly as she could, which admittedly wasn’t very quick at all in her state. Wearing shorts that were stretched to capacity, held up with Morgan’s rubber band trick, and a “PINK” tank top that functioned more as a bra than anything else, she blushed red as she made her way. Everyone, from the young to the elderly, stared at her, or more specifically, her massive, mountainous middle. She was rivalling octomom in size, and the bigger she got, the more Morgan found excuses to take her out. He held her hand and tugged her along, leading the charge to the burger joint. 

“Babe everyone is staring! I want to go home!” she hissed at him. He turned to give her a side-eyed look and hiss back “You’ll be fine. Now come on, the babies are hungry!” the pair rounded a corner and Lilith came face-to-face with her highschool BFF. Gwen. “Lilith?” she asked, recognizing the hair color. “Y-yeah…” stammered Lilith. Morgan beamed. “Oh my god! Girl you didn’t tell me you were preggers!?” Gwen smiled and circled around to give Lilith a genuine hug. The two girls looked to Morgan, Gwen with excitement, and Lilith with embarrassment. “And Morgan, you’re looking suave as usual,” Gwen smiled. Morgan smirked. “Why thank you,” Gwen turned her attention to Lilith’s pendulous belly, “Gosh I wondered why I haven’t heard from you in months!? When’s the baby shower? I wanna spoil this little…” she trailed off… “These little… guys?” she asked. “We don’t know the sexes yet-” Lilith was cut off “In about a month and a half, we’re going to have lots of fun little games centered about this tank right here,” Morgan gave Lilith’s belly a hearty pat, “So tell all your girlfriends they’re invited, cause it’s going to be big!” he grinned. Lilith shot him a radioactive death glare, but he ignored it, his plans already in motion. “Okay! I gotta run cause I can’t be late for an interview but I’ll catch up later! Bye hon!” she said, running off. 

“Bye… Gwen…” Lilith shot another look at Morgan. “What the hell was that?! We’re NOT having a babyshower!” “Says you,” Morgan smirked. He proceeded to pile it on, “But your friend was so excited! Are you really going to dash her hopes like that? She just wants to spend time with you,” Lilith pouted, “I… guess so…” her response was cut off by a deep rumbling from her tummy. Morgan shot her a mischievous grin and took her hand again, continuing their trek.

Seeing as she was too big to fit in the booths, Morgan sat Lilith down at one of the chairs, and went off to order. She could feel all eyes on her as she placed a hand on her tummy to try to calm the movement she felt deep inside. What was in reality only a few minutes felt like hours as she waited for Morgan to return with the food. She was happy when she heard him approach, but was upset at what she saw him carrying. “That’s six burgers!?” she whisper-yelled incredulously. “Yeah, one for each baby!” stated Morgan, matter-of-factly. “I’m not about to pig out in front of all of these people!?” 

Morgan’s smile dropped when she said that. “Are you really going to let the stares of a few strangers deny food for your babies? OUR kids?” Lilith sighed. “Well… no, but can we take this home?” her tummy rumbled again in protest. “I don’t think they can wait,” Morgan whispered. “F-fine… but when I’m full I’m stopping,” she sighed. Morgan placed both hands on the firm, warm front of her belly, feeling her popped bellybutton under his right palm. “You’ll stop when THEY’RE full, alright?” Lilith looked down at herself. Her massive, bloated, overly pregnant self, and sighed. “Yes dear,”

She picked up the first juicy, tender steakburger he’d gotten her, and took a huge bite. The food itself actually tasted great, the mustard, tomato, and pickles. She had been craving pickles today, she just didn’t want to admit it. One by one, each burger disappeared into her huge pregnant gut, eliciting happy kicks from its occupants. Morgan smiled as he watched her. These burgers would have given her trouble a month ago, but now? Her stomach was stretched, her babies were hungry, and she had the capacity to be a professional speed-eater, all thanks to him.

Lilith was enamored by the tastiness of the burgers, she was downing one after another, about 40 seconds a piece. She was starting to get embarrassed though. The way Morgan was grinning at her… the way the other mall goers were just… staring. She was a big, fat, pregnant spectacle… and she hated it. She felt a *pop* from the front of her shots and her heavy belly lurched forward slightly, and she knew what had happened. “Uh oh, babe,” Morgan said loudly. “Looks like that rubber band wasn’t strong enough against your belly. I guess you were right,” he shrugged. Lilith’s cheeks burned with bright red embarrassment, but she kept eating, pretending not to hear him.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hand touch her bare tummy, rubbing it gently. “Now isn’t this better? Eating to your stomach’s content?” she swatted at him and pointed to the nearby slushy stand. “Cherry,” she grunted through a mouthful of food. “Whatever you say,” he slipped away. In reality, she just wanted some space from him. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, he’d been so clingy, spending every spare moment with her, making her eat and drink. “For the babies” had become as commonplace as breathing, she felt like, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing this all on purpose.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his quick return. “They were out of cherry, so I got you tiger’s blood,” he said, handing her the 44 oz drink. She swiped it form him with one hand, and polished off the sixth and final burger with the other. She felt heavy. Well… heavier, as the six greasy sandwiches settled in her gut. 7 more weeks… then she’d be due, and this would all be over.

39 weeks

Morgan had made good of his promise. He threw a baby shower, and Lilith was the center of attention, despite her wishes. Gwen, along with four other friends of theirs, had come to the party, and despite the relatively small gathering, Lilith felt absolutely smothered. She sat in her usual spot, in the center of the couch, and she was surrounded by her physically close, if not emotionally close friends. Her tummy had absolutely ballooned, and she was so big she couldn’t reach her popped navel anymore. While she’d stayed relatively free of stretchmarks, red and purple veins made themselves known on her shiny, overstretched skin. Her underbelly hung between her legs, which were forced to spread to make room for her massive mound of a womb.

No matter what she did, how much she complained, or what she threatened, Morgan would not buy her maternity clothes. Her belly hung proudly on display for all to see, weather she liked it or not. This had become so much more apparent during the shower. While Morgan brought food and drinks for all, Lilith sat planted on the couch, cooed at and touched like a walking petting zoo. She felt like she couldn’t go 10 seconds without a hand brushing against her belly, and the visible motion from the sextuplets inside did not help. “You’re positively glowing!” They all said. “You exude motherhood!” “I hope I look as good as you when I’m pregnant!” she hated all of it.

She snapped out of her surly stupor when she heard Gwen address her by name. “Lilith, I haven’t seen you covered up once this whole pregnancy! What made you decide to go belly-out the whole time?” Lilith forced a grin, “Well, Morgan had a LOT to do with it,” she replied, mentally grinding her teeth. “You’re just so brave, like it’s such a powerful look! You’re like ‘look out world, pregnant mama coming through’!” Gwen laughed, resting a hand on the side of Lilith’s gargantuan midriff. Morgan stepped into the room with some sort of plastic box. “You girls ready for another game?” he asked. Lilith turned red, the last game had been all about guessing the measurement of her waistline. All the guests had estimated her bigger than she was, and Morgan made a big show of measuring her, having a hard time getting the tape measure all the way around. 72 inches. She was 72 inches around. She was bigger around than she was tall. She almost cried at the realization.

Morgan opened the box to reveal a rainbow of different body paints and brushes, “You all get to belly paint!” Every girl there except for Lilith beamed with excitement. The various paints and brushes were snatched up lightening fast, and before she realized fully what was happening, Lilith was surrounded by five women all kneeling around her and applying paint to her overstretched, pregnant skin. Lilith couldn’t see what was being painted on her due to her sheer size, but she could only imagine how awful and embarrassing it would all look. Morgan already had his camera out, taking pictures.

Shivers went down her spine as Lilith felt the bristles and thick paint run over her sensitive bellybutton, Gwen giggling as she ran the brush up and down. Lilith felt so embarrassed, so large was her middle that she could be used as five canvases at once! Her face turned redder and she frowned as Morgan snapped shot after shot of her massive, bare tummy.

As time passed Lilith grew increasingly agitated. The sensation of paint brushes on her belly was absolutely grating, and the feeling of dry paint caking on the skin wasn’t helping either. She realized she was getting hungry, which was only souring her mood more. She felt her stomach gurgle and saw Morgan’s eyes light up. He as attuned to the sound of her rumbling tummy like a shark to blood, Lilith could tell he had something planned for this event in particular. Her belly rumbled again, this time louder, and the girls started to notice. “Damn girl, we gotta get you fed!” said Gwen, patting the belly. “You must be dying over there!” Lilith shook her head, “No, no I’m fine, I just need-” “Some cake!” beamed Morgan as he carried in a triple layer devils food cake. Lilith gulped.

“Gosh Morgan you treat her so well!” said one of the girls. “Anything for my girl!” he replied, setting the cake on the shelf of her belly. Lilith’s pleading eyes met Morgan’s powerful gaze, and she knew he was about to make her pig out. Right here. In front of all of her friends. He took a seat next to her on the couch, grabbed a fork, and scraped off a big mouthful. “Say Ahh,” he whispered. The girls went back to talking amongst themselves and painting, and Lilith was feeling pinned down by the weight of her sextuplet belly, and triple layer cake. She winced, and took the bite. “There… for the babies,” Morgan said, getting another forkful.

Bite after bite went down and Lilith could feel the brushes on her tummy slow down until nobody was painting anymore. All eyes were on her. She chewed and swallowed bite after bite of the sickeningly sweet cake, the frosting getting on her face and the top of her belly. She felt a couple of hands start feeling up her belly again as she pushed past the halfway mark of the cake.

It was so heavy and rich, and Lilith could feel every bite of it go right to her midriff. The babies began to stir and kick, which only landed more hands on her tummy. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Bite. Chew. Swallow. It became almost rhythmic as she entered a food induced trance. She could faintly hear the girls saying things like “wow, she can really put it away,” and “Is she going to stop?” and “I think I feel her belly getting tighter!”, but she was lost to the caloric intake and sheer, painful embarrassment. 

She only came to when the cake stopped coming. When she had eaten it all. Gwen clapped for her. Morgan gave her a kiss on the cheek to congratulate her. Everyone else kept their hands on her belly. “She gets real strong cravings for chocolate sometimes,” Joked Morgan, the other girls giggling at her expense. Moran got his camera back out. “Smile!” he said, mockingly, as he snapped a photo. 

A perfect shot of Lilith, 39 weeks pregnant with six babies, her belly bare, resting between her legs. Her tummy was covered in little paint doodles of flowers, trees, landscapes, and stick figure families, except for the top shelf, which was stained brown from the smeared chocolate. Her mouth was open as she breathed heavily through it, feeling ready to burst. Morgan sat down next to her again, and showed her the picture on the camera’s display screen. “This is you babe!” he laughed. “This is what you really are!”

[elliethesuperfruitlover]

Don’t Disturb This Groove

A/N: This is going to be a song fic and a Nathan Young fic, it’s gonna be a little intense, I do admit. This comes from me getting multiple ideas from multiple songs. For now, the song’s are gonna stay apart, but I might create a two part plot from this. I hope you enjoy!

Songs: Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard

Don’t Disturb This Groove by The System

Warnings: smut, oral sex (both genders receiving), bad words, alcohol, overall fluffy smut, biting, hair pulling, food (it may trigger some people), unprotected sex (wrap it up folks)

    Nathan and you had been home for quite a bit, just relaxing and trying to calm down from the day put before you. He’d ended up dying...a fucking gain somehow. You walked into the room that he, Curtis, Simon, Kelly, and Alisha were in and there the fucker was, dead as a doorknob. Curtis explained and said that apparently Nathan tried to demonstrate how he performed oral sex on himself, but he accidentally snapped his neck, killing himself. As per usual. You weren’t surprised, but one of these days he might be in the middle of an orgasm and he’ll forget to unwrap his hand from around his neck. Yes, he has a choking kink, and he reminds you each time he’s on the edge. You could be taking a shit and Nathan would walk in, wanking off with one hand, opening the door with the other, and ask you to wrap your hand around his neck. He’s just like that.

  “Good god I’m tired. Autoerotic suicide isn’t all easy and happy y’know.” Nathan says, rubbing his neck while nursing an ice cold glass of water.

“Yeah, yeah, next time you try to suck your own dick in front of your friends, put some pillows down for the mess.” you sneer, sarcastically looking at Nathan, whose mouth opens at your comment, almost leaking water on your freshly mopped floors.

“Okay, I get it, I’m too strong for my own good. Maybe I should show you some moves and we could 69 standing up.” Nathan says, imitating eating you out.

“Nathan please, you can barely lift a box, but I appreciate the offer. One of these days I’m gonna dominate you and shut you up for once.” you say rolling your eyes.

  He chuckles to himself, polishing off his glass of water. He places the glass on the counter, reaching up to grab a handful of pick n’ mix, which hilariously he got himself into community service for. A little stripe of pale skin peeks out from his shirt when he reaches up, and you rush over to kiss over it, eliciting a giggle from Nathan. You stand back up and peck his lips, covered in crumbs from his snacking. The two of you sit in the kitchen, enjoying each other’s company. Occasional soft kisses and mumbles of sweet nothings are shared between the two of you. Nathan’s hands are on your waist, and your foreheads touch. You can feel the other’s heart beating in time with yours. The warmth of each other is all you need in that moment. Nathan’s curls brush against your shoulder as he places his head between your neck and collarbone. He smushes it in, and you giggle softly, knowing that he was very vulnerable. He’s a huge softie when he wants to be.

    “I love you Nathan. I really do,” you mumbled into his neck, balling his shirt up in your fist.

“I love you too. Even if I don’t show it most of the time, I really do care about you.”he whispered back, a very light dusting of pink covering his pale cheeks. 

    Earlier when the two of you were at the Community Center, the clouds were ready to rain, but it hadn’t happened yet. Nathan always got a little nervous when it rained because of how he gained his immortality and the general fucked up aura about The Storm and what it caused. Not that Nathan’s slate was clean before stealing that pick ‘n mix, but nobody deserves to be almost crushed by very large hail, then have to deal with multiple murders. The sky finally emptied itself and it began to rain, but it was peaceful in a way. The two of you came apart, then drifted to your patio, where you watched the back garden become supple with the cloud’s rain, the birds hiding in their trees, huddling together for warmth. You got one brilliant idea, and opened the door, taking Nathan’s hand with you, dragging him after you.

  You took your hair down and immediately got wet, but you stopped caring the moment your feet hit the wet grass. You ran around, free from worries, and splashed about in the rain, ruining your jeans. Nathan followed close behind, watching you in awe, as he’d never seen such a carefree version of anyone he’d known, besides himself. You heard the song Pour Some Sugar On Me blasting somewhere in your head, and you were vibing to say the least. That mixed with Nathan watching you, and his general horniness created him walking up behind you, and he kissed you, grabbing two handfuls of your ripe ass. He put his hips against yours, and the two of you stood in the rain, making out like it was the end of the world. Nathan slipped his tongue through your lips, battling against yours, wanting it to never end. You jumped and he caught you, your legs wrapping around his waist, proving for optimal pressure on your clit. Your lips smacked together, and your hands went up to play with Nathan’s curls, which became slightly wavy under the rain.

  The pace slowly sped up, Nathan’s bulge becoming more pronounced under your ministrations. He broke away from the makeout session, moaning against your neck and he bit it lightly, the rain lightly muffling your whimpers. He bit down harder, making sure to let your voice catch in your throat, making you get even more rough with him, keeping your promise from earlier. He drops his head, moaning to the sky and heavens above, his eyes closed from the feeling of wet denim and pressure against his cock. He lifted you against his body, trying to hit orgasm, thrusting against you. However, God had other plans, as lighting strikes near the both of you, efficiently scaring the shit out of the both of you.

“Christ on a cracker!” Nathan yelled, slightly dazed from his mid-coital bliss.

  You both went back inside, soaking wet, looking for warmth. You placed your clothes in the dryer, and decided to head to the shower, warming up twice as fast.

“We showerin’ together? Or do you want me to join you while you touch yourself while thinking about me. Want me to shove my cock between your fat ass cheeks and cum on your back.” Nathan says, whispering in your ear, creeping behind you.

“You can come with me, and if you’re lucky, I’ll let you come in me.” you say, bending your ass over to give Nathan a nice view, turning the hot water on.

  The two of you actually did shower, but Nathan is too horny for his own good. He reached around and groped your tits, grinding his cock against your ass cheeks, his pubes softly scrubbing against your back. He moved from your breasts to your pussy, touching lightly along your folds and lips, dipping near your hole every now and then. He got closer and pressed his chest against your back, his nipples hard and erect, rubbing against your shoulder blades, causing Nathan to let out little groans and soft sounds from his pink lips. He turns you around, and makes you watch while he slips a finger, no two, into your sex, soaking them in your slick. He knows that you don’t orgasm from certain actions, so with his other hand, he starts jacking himself off, his hand moving up and down, rubbing along the head of his dick, pleasuring the both of you simultaneously. He looked into your eyes, piercing them, wanting you to feel everything that he was doing. Emotionally and physically, he wanted you to feel it and absorb the pleasure. He brings himself closer to the edge, but you have other plans, thus again.

  You turn the water off, and step away from Nathan’s fingers, which were rubbing against your walls. Nathan was quite soft as a person, and he followed you to the mirror like a lost puppy, entranced by your sultriness. You stepped towards the mirror, which was steamed up, and hopped onto the counter, spreading your legs to expose your vagina, pointing your toes for presentation. Nathan went up to you, kissing your lips, and grabbing your thighs. He closed the distance between the two of you, his dick entering you, halting when his length hit its mark. He softly moaned against your lips, beginning to thrust, his hips meeting your spread ones. The sound of your lips smacking against each other grew, just as your hips meeting did. You could feel his head meeting every fold in your wall, and that feeling was pure, unbridled, pleasure. He started moaning with each thrust, as you had put your nails against his back, and went up and down against it, causing him to speed up his pace. Nathan had a special place in his kinks for pain, especially inflicted by others. Your legs were around his waist, and you pulled him closer, and the mirror only stayed fogged where the two of you were, warming yourselves up. His cock sped up even more, his balls slapping against your pelvis, created noise in the cramped bathroom. Even as your body took his penis, it still stretched you as your pussy squeezed his cock, forcing Nathan to ease into his first orgasm of the night, painting your insides with his seed, moaning into the open. You held him as he shook, and he made ragged breaths, tumbling through the aftershocks.

  Nathan slowly pulled out of you, recovering slowly. Your legs came down from the counter, and his cum slowly dripped from you, getting on the floor, but you’d mop later. You kissed Nathan’s cheek and made sure that he was okay before you dried him off and dressed him, as well as dressing yourself. It was nearing dinner time, and your stomach grumbled just at the thought of eating. You’d only had a light breakfast, consisting of raisins and cheese. You put on some chicken nuggets (A/N: i had to.), and Nathan rounded the corner, making motions with his hand that indicated that he wanted cuddles. The two of you sat on the couch in the living room, which was over by the door, which still made you feel...special. Nathan was on top of you, his head between your breasts, and his arms behind your back. You played with his curls while he relaxed, and you rubbed his back slowly, as his eyes drooped. You let him nap for the time being, and you closed your eyes as well, as the chicken nuggets usually took some time to get fully ready. As long as you didn’t wake up to the house on fire, you were dandy.

“Wakey wakey. Chicky nuggies!!” said a voice, presumably Nathan, as there wasn’t a weight on top of you, and you smelled chicken nuggets.

“Thank you baby.” you said, grabbing the plate and beer from him, sitting up.

  The two of you dug into your food which consisted of chicken nuggets and applesauce as you keep forgetting to go out to go do some shopping. You also talked while you ate, and since Nathan was recovered from his orgasm, his funny attitude was back. He was talking about the time he died from getting pushed from a ledge, which was how he found out about his immortality. He wasn’t always happy with his power, and he was speaking of replacing it. Never dying is something from the fucking A-list, he’d even said it himself. You had no developed power yet, even though you experienced the same storm. It still baffled you, but Nathan told you not to worry over it. Easier said than done.

“These nuggies are cooked to perfection.” Nathan says, eating his last one, then obscenely burping, slightly alarming you.

“Well, excuse you sir.” you said, taking a sip of beer. (or root beer if you don’t drink).

   After a while, the meal drew to a close, and Nathan, a good man himself, took the plates and bottles into the kitchen and washed them. 

  You were stretched out on the couch, still somewhat tired from your nap. Nathan joined you on the couch, taking the opposite side, and your feet joined near the middle. You two turned on the television, and slowly joined in the middle to play with the other’s hair, cuddling against each other. Nathan sighed against your touch and closed his eyes, not sleeping, but just enjoying the presence. The tv played quietly in the background, and the rain had calmed to a meer drizzle, adding to the aesthetic. You reached down and kissed Nathan’s forehead, void of wrinkles. He put his lips to yours, and the two of you were making out again, but much softer than before. His hands wandered slowly, but still gave the same effect. He made you feel special. That was all that mattered. His tongue played with yours, lackluster, and he softly ground against your hips. Little whimpers were shared between the two of you. Every now and then, you would turn your heads, trying to mix up the angle to find a new perspective. 

    This carried on for some time, and the television slowly faded to just fuzz. Nathan began to get a little whiny, and moaned against you, his pretty green eyes sparkling with lust. His hips were starting to get more impatient, it seemed, ready for some action. He was transfixed on you, and only you at that moment in time. Something that was very rare for the irish chatterbox.

   Nathan got a little restless, so he decided to pick you up (successfully this time) and carry you to the shared bedroom. He put you down softly on the bed, and stripped himself of his clothes, but of course, he was wearing his zebra bikini briefs. They made you chuckle as you also rid yourself of your clothes. Nathan hovered above you, worshipping your body. He took you in, all of you, and he took his place between your legs, not entering you yet. His mouth gravitated to your breasts, more specifically your nipples. He suckled them, softly, treating them too tender, much too unlike his usual demeanor. You whimpered at his antics, and moaned at his tiny bites against your flesh. He switched sides, and while he was playing with you, one of his hands reached down to touch over your folds, forcing a moan from you. Nathan kissed down your body, leaving a trail of purple and red along your torso. He made his way over your pubic mound, then immediately placed your clit under his tongue, kissing and biting it. This action was met with your loud gasps, then taking a hold of Nathan’s head, and thrusting against it. He looked up at you while he worked, and made his way down to your hole, prodding it with his tongue, forcing the muscle inside of you.

   Wet kisses and breathy moans filled the air, Nathan trying his hardest to get you over the edge before his hand working him to orgasm does. His tongue slurps away at your excretements, and whenever he takes small breaks to breathe, your slick covers his face, even wetting some of his curls. Just as you’d almost reached your orgasm, you yanked him back towards you, mumbling an idea.

“I want to 69 with you. We don't have to be standing, I just want to share feelings.” you say, breathless.

  Nathan softly nods, and places his leg over your hip, settling his mouth once again over your sex. You take his dick into your mouth as soon as he gets back to licking your pussy, trying to work as quickly as he does. Luckily, Nathan loves receiving blowjobs, so you had your work cut out smoothly. You ran your tongue over the vein prominent on the bottom of his dick, and kitten licked the tip, sending Nathan into a frenzy below, uh, above you. Every time you bobbed your head on his length, he let out a harsh breath on your hole, grunting against it. Soon enough, the two of you reached a reasonable pace, and Nathan bent his knees, lightly mouth fucking you. You groaned along his length, and he replied back, biting another mark on your vagina. At this point in time, you started taking his balls and sucking on them, quickly jerking him off in replacement of your mouth. Nathan started speeding up his licks on your pussy, as he was being worked closer to his edge, and wanted it to be a mutual orgasm. You did an old party trick, and slipped both his cock and balls into your mouth, moving your mouth over both bits, teasing him to no end. He came with a high moan and a grunt, and you swallowed every last drop, wishing that you could make him cum a second time.

  Nathan stopped making efforts to please you when he came, as he could be a bit sensitive sometimes, but he slipped into your wet heat before you could even get a joke out. Your breath caught in your throat as Nathan thrust into you, wasting no time in trying to get you to orgasm. Somewhere off in the distance, the song Don’t Disturb This Groove started playing, and you’d forgotten to put a sock on the door before the two of you crashed on the bed. That was the least of your worries as Nathan softly made love to you, as his libido calmed down after his orgasm, but not too terribly much, as he wanted you to reach that beautifully erotic peak as soon as possible. He bent his head and kissed your lips, only doing so to cover his own moans, his hips working in succession with your mouths. He made little sounds, doing quite a shitty job at hiding them as his hips picked up with a new vigor, working to bring you closer. His cock slipped in and out of your vagina, still stretching it with his girth, and hitting just the right spot, just left of your cervix. You let him know by tightening again, sending you straight to that euphoria filled abyss. Your knees bent around his back, Nathan tensing up as you tilted your head back, and came against his cock, thrusting up to meet him, riding through the waves.

  Your body had a long time for recovery, and Nathan helped you with the aftershocks, kissing your neck, and meeting your eyes with his own. When you were ready, he pulled out, and went to go get the two of you cleaned up. You were still sensitive, as was Nathan, after your little adventures throughout the day, and he cuddled up against you on your bed, making himself the big spoon, even though he longed to be the little one.

“You okay, Nathan?” you ask him, brushing a spare curl from his forehead.

  He nods against your flesh, sighing against it, and grabbing your hand from underneath the covers. He smiled into your neck, and you turned into his chest, nuzzling up close. He fell asleep quite quickly, snoring quietly above you. Your face took its place on Nathan’s shoulder, and you hitched a leg over his hip, content for the time being.

Masterlist

[hobidreams]

The Early Shift | Second Taste {M}

determined to find the truth, you pay yoongi a visit at his apartment and get more than what you bargained for.

pairing: barista!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst (well, more like anger) words: 7k contains: coffee shop au, enemies to lovers, lots of banter & sarcasm, face f*cking aka oral (m), dirty talk, yoongi continues to be an ass index: first sip - second taste - last cup

“Hmm. I think we should give Yoongi a call.” This is what Sooah suggests, fifteen minutes before the end of your shift. Her full lips are downturned as she cocks a hand beneath her chin, bats you those doe eyes.

The glorious freedom you were fantasizing about disappears in an instant. “Why?”

“Maybe he got into some trouble and needs help.”

You decide she’s much nicer than you. “Or maybe, hear me out, just maybe, he’s decided to skip work today and continue being the inconsiderate jerk he is.” You have no such patience for him, but that might be because you still remember the heat of his lips nipping at yours. Or maybe it’s because the marks he left on your thighs still remain in faint traces of dark pink.

“Hmm.” Sooah doesn’t look convinced. “Still, just in case. We have his number already. It’ll just take a minute.”

You let your nails sink into your palm. “Fine. I guess there’s a .0001% chance that something actually tragic is happening.” You make for the shop’s landline, where all the employees’ numbers are saved. You fully intend on handing Sooah the phone. But when you whirl back, she’s busy taking an order, with another customer in line behind the current. “Fine,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll do it.” You hit the call button.

There are a few long rings, by the end of which you’re certain that voicemail will pick up. You tune out, listening instead to the bop released a few months ago that Sooah insists on playing at least three times an hour over the speakers. Your foot absently taps along to the catchy beat.

Click. There’s some fumbling, and you, only half-paying attention, wait for the robotic voice. Except what you get instead is a hurried, low-toned “yeah.”

You blink in surprise, pausing as your brain processes.

“Hello?” The voice is more annoyed now.

“It’s me.” You say your name.

A sigh. “What do you want?” Translation: why the hell are you calling me?

That tone has the magic ability to spark irritation in you like no other. You’re actually thankful for your visceral reaction to it; it squashes any unnecessary nerves that might want to flutter in your stomach. “Hmm, let me think. What do you have every Monday morning? Why might your coworker be calling you?”

There’s some more rustling, perhaps a whisper of a curse that you don’t quite catch. “Uhh... I’m sick.”

“Really. Sick.” You enunciate every thick syllable. “Why didn’t you tell Mina?”

“Too sick to.” The fake cough he manages is the worst excuse you’ve ever heard. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Your thumb grinds the end call button for a few seconds longer than necessary before you set the phone back into its cradle.

Sooah hands a warmed muffin over before she turns to you. “So? How is he?”

“He says he’s ‘sick’.” You make air quotes, just as the backroom door creaks open.

“Who’s sick? Yoongi?” Namjoon, who’s scheduled to take over for you, comes out looking concerned. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s completely fine.”

Sooah frowns. “Hmm, but I don’t think he’d just not show up unless something was really going on.”

“When he’s sick, he tends to forget everything and just stay in bed.” Namjoon turns to you. “You’re off soon. Do you mind just swinging by his place with some porridge?” That’s his go-to; you know because he once did the same for you when you had an awful fever. Remembering that day reminds you that you still owe him one for it. Damn it.

You scratch absently at the back of your neck. “I guess not...” You really can’t come up with a single excuse, because you don’t have any homework to do tonight nor do you have classes. Plus, if Yoongi’s truly ill, you’re not about to let him starve to death.

“Great.” Namjoon’s dimples flash as he pulls out his phone. “His place isn’t too far. Here’s the address.”

That’s how you wind up in front of Yoongi’s apartment door nearly an hour later, a tasty bowl of chicken porridge in hand. It’s a quaint building, small but cozy in its own way. Humble is the word that comes to mind as you take in the older, yellowed wallpaper, the slightly crooked number on his door. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot, feeling somewhat awkward. Like you’re intruding somewhere you shouldn’t be.

But you’re here to get the truth.

Some part of you hopes he’s actually sick. That, or he was just being a dick for the hell of it. Anything works, as long as the reason is not you.

You raise your hand and knock thrice. There is no sound, not even after the first minute passes. So, you knock again. One more minute, you tell yourself. If he doesn’t answer in one more minute, then I’m going to go home and eat all the porridge myself.

Finally, the door opens a crack. Bleary eyes with heavy purple bags behold you from beneath tangled, dilapidated blonde hair. Behind this disfigured creature that was once your coworker, all you can see is darkness even though it’s noon o’clock.

“Yoongi?” You ask, a little incredulously. “Are you okay?”

He frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you said you were sick, so...” You hold up the takeout container. “Namjoon made me check up on you.”

“I’m fine. You can go now.” He’s about to shut the door on you but you push your palm insistently against the wood.

“No way. You look like shit, Yoongi.” You sigh. “Look, I don’t want your death on my conscience, so at least let me heat this up for you. Namjoon’ll never let me live it down if I don’t.”

“Ugh…” He contemplates, but ultimately seems to recognize the combative fire in your eyes. “Promise to leave right after.” He turns, leaving the door open for you to follow. “I hate letting people in here,” he mutters as he walks.

“Trust me, I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to either.”

You step inside, and your nose instantly wrinkles. Everything just smells kind of stale, in need of a good airing out. Empty ramen containers litter the kitchen counter while scattered papers decorate the carpet. But what’s worse is when you behold Yoongi in all his glory – stained sweatpants, ratty t-shirt, and all.

“Is your hair allergic to brushing or something? God.” You gingerly set the bag on the table, wondering if he even has clean bowls to use. You’ll find out. Curse you and your empathy. “Go take a shower or something. Please. For your own sake.”

“You’re not my mother,” Yoongi mutters, but he seems to know you’re right. He drags his shirt off, and instead of admiring his slim physique, you cringe as he tosses the top carelessly onto the already messy couch. “Don’t mess with anything while I’m gone.”

“What, afraid I’ll fuck around and make it all cleaner?” You shoot back, but he’s already disappeared into the bathroom. “Jerk. Wouldn’t want to snoop in this place anyway.” Grumbling, you rifle through the cabinets and manage to fish out a single bowl that doesn’t look too suspicious.

Despite what you said just minutes before, while the porridge spins away in the microwave, you lean against the counter and take a good look at your surroundings. It’s a studio apartment, already tiny but made even smaller by the clothes strewn around. The bulk of the mess seems to be centered around the electronic set up shoved against a wall, consisting of two huge monitors, a lit-up keyboard, and something that you’ve only seen on TV, usually for a stereotypical depiction of a DJ. What the heck is Yoongi doing with something like that?

The roar of the shower is still going, so you take a few steps towards the desk. The screen is locked, asking for a password but you’re more fascinated by this soundboard with all its knobs and controls. Does Yoongi make... music?

Your first instinct is to think that it doesn’t fit your perception of him. But then it strikes you that your perception of him is incredibly limited. You suppose you’ve never asked about his hobbies or anything about him. You feel a little guilty now. You’ve never tried to understand him, just gotten pissed off at him time and time again.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Yoongi walks out of the bathroom, towelling off his hair. Wet droplets are still rolling down his bare chest. A second wimpy towel hangs off his hips, looking seconds away from falling. He’s already glaring. “Get away from my shit before you break something.” He walks towards his bed, lifting a pair of sweatpants off the mattress.

“Please. I’m not as clumsy as you think.” You roll your eyes as you move to fetch the congee from the microwave. You set the bowl in front of him as he finds a spoon. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi mutters as he slips a spoonful into his mouth. “For checking on me too, I guess.” The bags beneath his eyes have gotten even more obvious and gaunt after the shower, as if he hasn’t slept in days. And hasn’t eaten either, judging by the way he goes at the congee as if it’s his last meal on this planet.

“Geez, you’re gonna get indigestion like that,” you say with a wince. “Do you live like this all the time?” Is this why he’s always late?

“Kind of.” Yoongi barely stops eating to breathe. “But this week is especially busy.”“With what? You should at least get some sleep...”

Yoongi’s already almost done his food, meaning your time with him is running towards its end too. “With important things.”

“Nothing’s more important than taking care of yourself.”

“God, please stop talking. Don’t you think I know that?” Yoongi squeezes his eyes together, rubbing fatigue from the corners. “But certain things have deadlines that have to be met.”

“You can’t make deadlines from the grave. Can’t you get an extension or something? What’s it even for?”

“Contest. Song writing contest. Only runs once a year.” His spoon gives a final clatter before resting against the empty bowl. “So, no. No extensions.”

So he does make music. “You should have just started earlier instead of being late, as per usual,” you tease, hoping to lighten the sour look on his face.

Bad choice. “Don’t you think I did?” Yoongi surges to his feet. His palm slams into the counter, rattling the bowl. “You don’t understand how it feels when everything just comes out shitty and not good enough!”

You face his fury, swallow it to fuel your own irritation at how absolutely careless and ridiculous he’s being. “So, you’re just going to not sleep or eat or come to work until its done?”

“That’s the plan.”

Yoongi turns away, trying to end this conversation as he heads towards his computer. You don’t let him escape, because you’ll be damned if you work your next shift alone. “Why don’t you just wait for the contest next year?”

“Well I was going to.” He swivels his head back, “but aren’t you the one who said to fight for what you believe in?” He snaps it, exasperation in his tone. Then he instantly looks away again as if he’s said something embarrassing.

That makes you stop, your jaw slackened in half-surprise, half-amusement. “Wait… You actually listen when I talk? You’re doing all this because of what I said?

“No. Shut up. Just, ugh, get out.” You wonder if he’s turned away so you can’t see the expression on his face.

Okay, now you feel a little proud that some of your words finally made their way into Min Yoongi’s thick skull. A task you once thought impossible. But that makes you a bit responsible for his predicament, doesn’t it? Plus, you’ve never seen this (perhaps a bit overly) dedicated side of him before. It fascinates you.

“Show me something you’ve made, Yoongi. I’m sure it’s not all shitty.”

He snorts as he drops into his groaning chair. “What do you know about music?”

“Well, I listen to it. A lot.” You may not be Beethoven, but you love music and consider yourself pretty well-versed in several different genres. You’re so curious: what kind of music does Yoongi write? “Seriously! Just show me something.”

Yoongi still looks unconvinced.

“Hey, I brought you food. And covered your ass at work. So you owe me one.”

“And this is what you want to use it on.”

“Yup.”

He shrugs. “Dumb choice, but I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you.” But he starts to click through folders. He ultimately pulls up a file named TRASH. Interesting choice, you think as you gingerly perch yourself on his messy bed. Yoongi fiddles with the volume knob on his speakers. Seconds later, the music begins to flow.

You’re already tapping your foot along by the time the tenth bar hits. You don’t know what you were expecting, but this is good! Like, actually good! Instead of vocals, a keyboard plays out the main tune. It’s sounds rather bare, but you assume that’s because it’s unfinished.

But wait… The melody sounds familiar.

Once you realize it, the more obvious it becomes. Yes, some elements have been changed: this version is much more R&B influenced, the song dips in slightly different ways, and the opening has synth elements that the finished piece you know lacks, but…

“Hey, isn’t this…?” You trail off when the chorus hits, and the similarities become undeniable. “We don’t talk together—” you sing, the lyrics going perfectly with the tune. It’s the very same song Sooah’s been playing relentlessly at work.

Yoongi is staring intensely at the screen with something so unfathomably sad in his eyes. He doesn’t speak.

“It’s different than the final version, but similar enough. You wrote this?” You whip out your phone from your pocket. “Wow, you’re amazing, Yoongi!” You hum the song beneath your breath as you pull up the song’s production page; you’ve looked at it before, but you never noticed Yoongi’s name under the credits. Why the hell is he still working at the café? Shouldn’t he be off writing the next big hit? Wasting talent, really.

On the page, three names appear. The singer, then the rapper. Then final name you don’t recognize and assume to be the producer. He doesn’t have an artist page yet, no image or real name revealed on the website. “You’re DJ ALEX?”

Yoongi shakes to life at the sound of your voice. He lunges out, almost breaks the knob as he forces the volume to zero. “No. I’m not.” The words feel strange in the sudden silence. Uncomfortable.

“...But this is the same song, isn’t it? ‘We Don��t Talk Together’?”

“It used to be.” He whirls towards you. “Look, you heard something I wrote. I ate the food. You can get out now. I have work to do.”

You don’t move from the bed, knowing you’re pissing him off by the tensing of his jaw. “What do you mean? Who’s this Alex guy then?”

“Just drop it.”

“Yoongi, what happened?” You push him despite the way his hands have curled into fists. “There’s no way this is a coincidence because—"

“Tch! You want to know so badly? Fine! He stole it from me, alright?” His piercing glare forces goosebumps on your skin. “We wrote it together. He took the original and deleted my copy and passed the song off as his own. Now he’s the one getting all the record deals while I can’t write shit and stuck making coffee with an annoying ass coworker. Happy? Good enough of an explanation for you?”

You shake your head. “You just let him take it?!”

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” Yoongi’s voice is dangerously guttural, as if on the verge of breaking altogether. “He blocked me. Dodged me when I went to see him. Before I knew it, he was signing contracts and the song was being produced.” Yoongi sets his fists back on the table with not much strength at all, as if he’s just so exhausted of it all. “It was half a goddamn year ago. It’s too late now.”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re standing. “No, no, you can’t just let it go like this!” Not when it puts that look into his eyes. “You can fight it! You can, uhh, report him or show some proof that you wrote it together or something!” When he doesn’t respond, you step towards him, intending to put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Yoongi, you’re better than this!”

He knocks your hand away as he surges to his feet too. “Shut up. Just shut. Up.” He rounds on you, fury’s fire back in his eyes, worse than you’ve ever seen it since hurt is what stokes the flames to blazing. “You don’t know anything about me. You think just because we fucked once you have some insight into who I am or what I should do?”

His words hit you like bullets as you stagger back but the bed prevents you from moving too far, caging you in. “Yoongi, no, that’s not—”

“Or what? Are you gonna tell me you came here today because you missed my cock that much?”

Thoughts seem to fly clear out of your mind at the dip in his voice. Your heart thuds in your ears as Yoongi takes a step. Then another. Breaking every boundary of personal space until his lips are aside your ear. Breath curves around your lobe, coming hot, much too hot as he growls, “didn’t get enough in that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?”

“I... Uh...”

“That’s why you’re running your mouth, huh?” He captures your bottom lip, tracing it with a calloused thumb. “When you should be choking on my cock instead.” Yoongi pulls back enough for you to see how his mouth curls into that damn smirk, and you remember. God, you remember how he stole what he wanted from your body and left you stuffed full of his pleasure. But this time, there’s a desperation behind his words that was absent before. As if right now, he’s the one that needs you despite the lewdness rolling off his tongue.

So you drop to your knees.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, then narrow with deep pleasure as he thumbs your cheek with more tenderness than you would have expected. That thought is shattered when he harshly tugs your chin up, forces you to stare into the gaze that you can only find predatory. His other hand works the waistband of his sweats, tugging it down to spring his stiff cock so violently it smacks you in the face. “Open wide, baby,” he snarls, the word not sweet but condescending, the way he enunciates the syllables.

You let your mouth unhinge, but you don’t move to engulf his dick in your heat. Instead, you drag your gaze across the few beads of pre-cum are already gathered on the tip, just waiting to be slathered all over the smooth head by your fingers. He groans when you curl your hand on his shaft, bucking his hips into your touch whether he wants to or not. He can’t control himself when you pressure his frenulum, squeezing to coax another moan from him. You love that you can drive him this wild with need, put that look on his face as if he’s seeing the bright lights of heaven behind those half-closed eyelids.

But he’s not about to let you take control.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” He shoves his hips forward, sliding himself between your parted lips and onto your awaiting tongue. You taste the saltiness of arousal leaking from his swollen cock, swiping along the head to gather every last drop of sin. He stiffens even more under your touch and the slippery texture of your agile tongue; you take it all in stride, swirling saliva around while your fingers use the excess spit to work his shaft.

“Unh, your tongue feels so damn good.” Yoongi moans like his stresses are melting away with every lick you slather across his taut skin. You trace the fat vein running along the side, carving the curves into memory. Which spots make him shiver, which ones make him moan. “Fuck, almost as good as that tight cunt of yours.” Said cunt gives a pulse of wanton need and you have to squeeze your walls around air, feeling so damn empty when you know how full you could be.

Without a single regard to your wants, he continues to urge his hips forward, mercilessly plunging in thick inches of dick until the head prods at the back of your throat. You’re trying your best to breathe through your nose but he makes that impossible when he tests your gag reflex with two brutal thrusts. Only after does he bring himself back, let you suck in much-needed oxygen before you’re bobbing your head again to his groans.

Yoongi seems torn between squeezing his eyes shut and keeping them trained on you, mired to the sight of your lips stretched and wrapped so obscenely around his cock. “How much of me can you take with that filthy mouth?” It’s a challenge he issues despite his tense, sweaty thighs and the unassailable glaze in his eyes that says he’s closer to the end than he’d like to admit.

“All of it,” you say as best you can with your mouth stuffed full. You’re not afraid of him, of any attempts he’s made to scare you off. You prove so by supressing your instincts and easing him into the slick of your throat. You push on despite the protests of your body, spurred by the painful fist in your hair that keeps you speared on him. His fine pubic hair tickles your nose, smelling like soap and his natural musk that is somehow more intoxicating than it should be. You’re so close; if you strained, you could give his crotch a sloppy French kiss.

“Then take it.”

You choke when he fucks in the last few inches, forcing his bulging cock down your throat. He pulls back only to repeat the action, earning himself a fresh gag. He seems to love that lewd squelch, imprinting it in his mind along with the tears coalescing at the corners of your eyes. Spit flies everywhere as he rocks his hips like a machine made solely for this purpose, abusing your aching mouth but even that turns you on. You don’t think you’ve never been this aroused by sucking a dick but Yoongi just has that effect on you, for better or worse.

You can barely hold onto his skinny thighs as the muscles ripple beneath your grasp in name of erratic, orgasm-seeking thrusts. They make him occasionally jerk his dick but if he grazes your teeth, he doesn’t show it. Just keeps pumping like a madman, getting himself off on how you take him so well – his good girl. Your jaw aches from his girth but you don’t dare pull away; not when he’s slamming into you like you’re the only thing in his world that matters right here, right now.

Now Yoongi’s the one choking when you lift your hand, cupping the sensitive skin of his balls. His lust-drenched eyes have flown open with surprise. Then he’s grinning, impressed with your eagerness. “Just like that—god—yeah, use your tongue, fuck…!” His moans are becoming increasingly broken, interrupted by gasps when you work your throat in tandem with fingers. “I’m gonna cum down your throat, baby,” he promises. “You better drink every fucking drop.”

You suck him harder as agreement, slurping with noisy abandon as if there’s nothing you want more than his seed coating your throat. Messy spit bubbles beside your lips but there’s no stopping you, not when his knees are buckling and he’s moaning your name in a hoarse voice that should be illegal.

“C-Cummin...!” Yoongi doesn’t even get to finish the word. Two hands on the back of your head force you all the way down. His shaft pulses and the first shot of cream hits your throat, followed by several hot strands that you automatically swallow down. He’s still gasping when he pulls back, tip profusely spilling the last remnants of bliss onto the tongue you leave exposed for his viewing pleasure. Then you gulp it down while you hold his heated stare.

With something like a growl, Yoongi yanks you up off the floor, crashing his mouth on yours to tangle your rather-numbed tongue with his own. One hand is still arrested in your hair but the other finds your waist, dragging you close to his body as he brutally sucks, bruises your bottom lip. You let yourself believe he needs to feel you, that he wants you even while his cock softens and carnal lust slips away.

“Y-Yoongi,” is the only thing you can exhale when he finally lets you go. The kisses only add to the arousal pooling between your thighs, demanding attention. But Yoongi makes no moves to take care of your need.

Instead, he wipes his lips of spit with the back of his hand. “Damn. That mouth of yours is something else.” He’s still panting, clearly having left most of his sanity on your tongue.

“I know.” You’re the one smirking now, feeling rather pleased with yourself. Looking around, you find a tissue and use it to clean yourself off. Yoongi does the same, and for a moment, it all just feels normal between you two.

“Thanks. That really cleared my head.” It only takes Yoongi a minute to get his pants back on. Then he’s planted himself in his chair again. Wait. Is that it? Your smile twists, droops into a frown as you watch him pull up the complicated software with all the soundbites back onto his screen, typing away as if inspiration has struck.

“Yo—”

“Looks like you’re not the worst coworker after all.”

…Right. How could you have forgotten? That word sends you crashing down into reality like an icy bath. You stare at the side of his face, focused squarely on his screen as if you’re nothing more than a houseplant. Not even giving you the title of fuck buddy, or friends with benefits. But, then again, you’re not friends in the first place.

“You can stay if you want, but I have to keep working on this.” That just sounds like an afterthought, a consolation prize that’s more bitter than the taste of his cum still lingering in your mouth.

You’re already moving towards the bag you left near the door. “No thanks.” You pull the strap onto your shoulder, twisting the icy doorknob. “Bye, I guess.”

Yoongi doesn’t even look back.

To set the record straight – you are not a coward. You are a rational adult making rational decisions that fit into your adult schedule. Begging Namjoon to switch shifts with you for the next month is just part of your regular plans, in no way influenced by the mixed, confusing, dizzying feelings that pop their heads up like groundhogs every time Yoongi crosses into your line of sight. Or your thoughts. Or really in any way whatsoever.

Okay... Maybe you’re a little bit of a coward.

But you can’t seem to help it. He’s too distracting, now that you’ve had a second taste of his poison. A poison that, instead of stealing your life, seems to have claimed your rationality as victim instead. You experienced the consequences of this robbery for the first time on Friday morning, when Yoongi showed up on time (shocker!) for his shift. Instead of being absolutely delighted, all you could think about was that he should have slept in a bit more because of the bruised bags beneath his eyes.

Friday was the first time you’d seen him at all since that visit to his apartment four days prior. Namjoon and Hoseok had taken Yoongi’s shifts throughout the rest of the week, you assumed to give Yoongi time to finish his song. You couldn’t muster up the courage to ask Yoongi about the piece; it felt like you were prying into a world that he wanted you to stay firmly out of. You still don’t understand why you’re so interested in the first place, when you should be hating him.

The rest of that shift had been a hodgepodge of awkwardness, what with the flinching every time Yoongi brushed past your arm reaching for the syrup, then the weird high-pitched tone your voice went to when he addressed you. By the time you left work on Friday, you were determined never to repeat that again.

So here you are. Today. Monday night. Except this time, you’re not spending it knelt on a musty apartment floor, swallowing Yoongi’s anger. That’s probably a good thing, you tell yourself. You need the time and the space to sort out your own emotions. To think about why the hell you keep replaying the sadness in his eyes, then corrupting that image with the coldness of his back in that chair and—

“Hellooo? Anybody home?”

A hand abruptly appears in front of your face and you jolt back to reality, whipping your gaze to find Hoseok grinning brightly at you. “There we go. I’ve been calling your name for ages.”

“Oops, sorry Hobi. I just spaced out. What did you say?”

“I said that I’m leaving soon, silly.” Hoseok leans against the counter, playful curiosity in his expression. “What’re you thinking so hard about?”

“...Nothing important.”

“Well, guess I can’t blame you. All the downtime will do that to ya. And you’re staying for the next month?”

“That’s the plan.” A customer approaches the bar, bringing you their empty plate. “Thanks, have a good night!”

Hoseok chuckles. “I thought you had night classes. Don’t tell me you dropped out of college to avoid working with Yoongi.”

The plate you were holding clatters as you drop it, smack the porcelain against the counter. “W-Why would I want to avoid working with Yoongi?” How did he know? Oh god, did Yoongi tell him what happened?

“Because he’s always late?”

“Oh! Oh. Right. Yeah. Well, no, no, it’s not because of him…” You don’t sound convincing in the slightest, yet you have no choice but to plow on. “I’m just taking an online course this term. So why not take an easier shift because I have the time, you know?” To be fair, you were planning on taking the course anyway. It was just a matter of physically going into class or not.

“Makes sense.” Hoseok grins. “And I’ll always be on time.”

“Yup. I can always count on you, Hobi.”

He stares at his watch, watching the second hand tick the seconds away. “Aaaand I’m off. You’ll have to count on me next time because I have a hot date!”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Hope it goes well!”

Hoseok is out like a whirlwind in the matter of minutes. Left alone in the shop, you run a hand through your hair, surveying the little café. One customer taps furiously away on their laptop. Another devours what remains of their quiche. A third jots down notes while they parse through War and Peace. You’re expecting no one else tonight, certainly not Yoongi to come bursting in like he had the last time you had a night shift. You’d better get started on cleaning.

As you wipe down the counters, remove the leftover food from the display case, the customers leave one by one. You hum a song beneath your breath, distracting yourself from any errant thoughts of a certain person that might be wanting to poke their head through. You’re not having any of that. Not today.

Time speeds by, and soon you only have thirty minutes left to go. You’re now alone in the shop, working quickly enough to ensure you’ll be finished right as your shift ends and not a second more.

Then the door chime goes off. Your head snaps up, and for a moment, for an infuriating moment, you hope it’s Yoongi.

Instead, another familiar face appears, that same, smooth, self-assured smile painted across his lips. Jiwon. This time dressed in a fitted suit, one that makes him look like he just stepped out of a magazine photoshoot. Still one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. Still not Yoongi.

“Hi. Hi!” You correct yourself, realizing you should sound less disappointed. “Welcome.”

“Hi.” His easy smile widens as he approaches the counter, devastating with those melting chocolate eyes. “Wishing I was someone else?” He asks with a laugh as he pulls out his wallet.

Oops. Your face must have given you away earlier. “No! Of course not.” You force on a grin to match his, wiping your damp hands on your apron.

“Good. Because I was hoping for you. That you’d be working tonight.”

“Oh...” Your face automatically heats up. There’s no way he’s flirting with you, right? Him, who is so far out of your league you’re not even playing the same game. “I don’t normally work night shifts.”

“I noticed.”

“I. Um. Ahem.” You clear your throat out of sheer nerves. “What, uh, what can I get for you?”

“Just a black coffee this time, please.”

“Got it. Go ahead and tap.”

When you hand over the hot cup, Jiwon takes it leisurely. This time, there’s no denying how he lets his fingers graze past yours for that extra half-second, how his eyes hold yours with something unfathomable and exciting.

“I’m working every weeknight for the next month!” You blurt out before you can stop yourself, not even knowing what the hell you’re hoping for. Shooting your shot with this incredibly good-looking man. Making a fool of yourself, apparently. “So, uh, yeah.”

To your great relief, Jiwon nods his head. He raises his coffee like a toast. “Then I’ll see you soon. Goodnight.” The way his voice lilts around and teases the parting word remains in your mind through the rest of your shift and even after when you get home, still thinking about how he’d smiled at you like a promise.

Maybe forgetting Min Yoongi won’t be so hard after all.

The weeks come and go. Before you know it, half the month has sped by, and you’re having more fun than you ever could have expected at work. You haven’t seen hide nor hair of Yoongi, working so well with Hoseok and a newly hired college kid Jungkook that you’ve barely had the time to think about him. Sure, it’s a bit odd not to have someone to bicker with every shift, but that’s more than made up for by the presence of Jiwon.

True to his word, Jiwon comes in practically every night, with that same casual smile that makes your heart unfairly quicken and flipflop. He always asks about your day, listening intently as you rattle on about what mundane thing has occurred like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Still, he hasn’t asked for your number in all this time, nor has he offered much information about himself. So, tonight, you’ve decided, after two weeks of this flirtation, you’re going to ask him on a proper date. Tonight is Friday night, one of the busier nights. So, to compensate, you’ll be closing together with Jungkook.

With that in mind, it’s no wonder that you walk though the doors of the café feeling nervous but excited. You love working with Jungkook though, and know he’ll dispel your nerves before too long with one of those wildly hilarious stories of his various exploits. The door chimes tinkle behind you as you take note that the place is rather busy. Gross. Then you sweep your eyes to the counter, expecting to see Jungkook’s bright smile.

It’s not Jungkook handing over a green tea Frappuccino, stacked high with whip cream to a young woman. It’s Yoongi.

“Yoongi?!” You exclaim, voice carrying across the café.

He turns his head, finds your surprised eyes. “That’s me.” His voice is as dry as ever, but he’s looking better than he did two weeks ago. Much better. You try to ignore the squeeze of your heart at the casual mess of his bangs, the falsely sweet smile that still lingers on his lips from interaction with the customer.

Just a coworker, you remind yourself. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s gaze follows you as you move behind the counter. “Working.”

“Well, gee, I can see that. But you never work the night shift. You hate it.” He had said very vehemently so before, when you suggested he switch shifts if he couldn’t wake up in the morning.

“Yeah, well...” The floor suddenly becomes quite fascinating to him. “It’s just this once.”

Hoseok appears out of nowhere, his jacket already on. He swings his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nah, he doesn’t hate it! I heard him begging Jungkook to switch shifts with him a few days ago.”

“Hoseok, shut up,” Yoongi spits, spinning around pointedly to face the customer approaching the counter.

You giggle as Hoseok rolls his eyes quite dramatically behind Yoongi’s back. “You’re on your way out, Hobi?”

“Yup. Just you and Yoongi tonight.”

You nod, licking your dry lips. “Okay, got it. Have a good night!”

Yoongi may not be Jungkook, but that doesn’t mean that your plans have changed. You’re asking Jiwon out. You’re moving on from the unaddressed, oddly in-between relationship you and Yoongi have, and you’re hopefully going to have a date by the end of the night. You slip an apron on, determination in your veins.

Whatever downtime you usually have on Friday night (that you were worried would give you time to be pensive about Jiwon’s impending arrival) soon becomes a long-lost dream as the customers just start pouring in. It seems there’s a big event at the theatre across the street, causing an enormous boom in caffeine and snack needs that keep you and Yoongi on your toes, a fact which Yoongi looks especially irritated by. That might be because he looks like he has something to say to you every time you have a minute of break; but he can’t get out anything substantial past a ‘hey’ before he’s drowned out by another group of people.

It’s hours before the crowd finally dies down, leaving the shop sparse and you exhausted. As glad as you are for the break, it also means you have to face whatever Yoongi wants to say. You can’t fathom what he could possibly want, but it looks like he’s about to tell you as he turns in your direction.

“Hey.”

You take a sip of your water. “Hi.”

“Uh…” You say nothing, just stare at him. Yoongi looks decidedly uncomfortable, and you’re starting to worry he’s about to drop that he has an STD or something. “I, err, just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Bringing you food or sucking your dick?

Yoongi sighs, raking his hair back with a hand. “I finished my song because of you.”

“Oh. Oh.” Okay… You can’t deny it; that actually makes you pretty happy. It makes you drop the frown and walls you thought you had to put up around him, replacing it with a genuine smile. “Congrats, Yoongi! When do you hear back about the results?”

“Not for a few weeks. But without you, I think I wouldn’t have entered at all this year. I just couldn’t write anything decent after…” Yoongi cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Look. Even though the song’s still not perfect and I’m still not too happy with it, it’s done. So. Thanks.”

Your heart threatens to pound at the sincerity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. “Anytime.”

Yoongi coughs, cutting off the moment prematurely. “Anyway, I’m gonna do inventory in the back.” You hate inventory, thinking it a mindless task that you would rather make a hundred lattes than do. You don’t know if Yoongi knows this, but you appreciate him all the same. You’re smiling faintly as you watch him disappear into the backroom.

Seconds later, the front door clatters, chime going off. You look up, customer-service smile already painted on, but it becomes that much wider when you find Jiwon’s friendly face grinning right back at you.

“Jiwon!”

“Hey! Can’t stay long today, but had to stop by for my coffee fix. And to see my favorite barista.” He winks, way too smooth for your health.

You fight the automatic flush of your cheeks. “No problem. Iced macchiato? Skim milk and light ice?”

“Yup. You get me.”

Your hands begin to tremble as you turn to make the drink, thinking about how best to ask him those difficult words. Oh god, you’ve never been good at this, but you’ll be kicking yourself forever if you never try. Do you want to go on a date? Nope. Too direct. Are you free on Saturday? Or maybe you should go with a simple do you like pasta? But what if he doesn’t? Oh gooood.

The drink is finished all too soon. You hand it to him, watching him take a sip. “Mm, you always make the best coffee.” The compliments come too easily to him, you swear.

“Haha, I try my best!” Okay. Now or never. “Oh, um, by the way…”

The door of the backroom swings open, interrupting you. Yoongi’s voice can be clearly heard over the music. “Hey, do you know where th—” He stops. His gaze rakes across the scene, taking in your silly, flustered grin, your faintly flushed cheeks. Then his eyes fall on who you’re talking to. His jaw slackens. “...Hyung?”

a/n: so uh,,, i’m sorry to end it like this again haha. what do you think is up? 👀 inbox is open; let’s chat! also the song i reference is “We Don’t Talk Together” by Heize and Giriboy, produced by Yoongi!

thank you to my beta readers: @sweetlyseokjin, @jiminspjm, @mypurplelamp, @hoseoksdior, @bigtiddiejoon 💞

and as always, a fat shoutout to my best girl @jeonshome for helping me brainstorm & hyping me up like always when i was struggling. don’t know what i’d do without you!! ♡

want to be on the tag list? the link is in my navi! (or send an ask!)

[cutieodonoghue]

dark gray (16/17)

summary: Killian Jones operates a lighthouse in the middle of nowhere, preferring a life of isolation, until one day a woman and a baby wash up on his little island and change his life forever.

read it on: ao3, ff.net

and also catch up on Tumblr!

///

Sixteen

Christmas Eve

Killian somehow finds himself more nervous than Smee is as they drive away from the Portland airport on their way to Storybrooke. 

Smee mutters to himself, driving roughly ten under the speed limit because he’s nervous being on American roads. The effort is costing them time, but Killian knows it wouldn’t do him any good to ask Smee to push any harder than he is. The man had practically had a breakdown on the plane before they took off.

“Do you think Emma will be there?” Killian asks. 

The question has plagued him for practically the entire trip. While it makes sense that she would be home, in Storybrooke, another part of him knows that this is an uncertain mission. She might be somewhere else entirely.

“Well,” Smee replies thoughtfully, “it’s Christmas Eve. I would think she’d be home. Wouldn’t you?”

Killian takes a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He holds in his hand the address Smee had been hiding from him, chicken scratch on a bright yellow post-it note.

He hasn’t given much thought to what his new life would look like. Maybe it’s for the best that he hasn’t been able to. When he makes it to Storybrooke, and he’s reunited with Emma and Henry, he imagines it will all fall into place.

Hopefully, that would happen sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know.”

Smee glances over at him very briefly a few times. “If she isn’t, we’ll just keep looking. I’m sure there will at least be someone who might know something… we’ll follow the trail until you’re with her again. I know how much she means to you.”

Killian looks out his window, teeth digging into his upper lip. “But does she know?”

Smee doesn’t have an answer for him, but Killian doesn’t need one. 

His anxiety about seeing Emma again is something he hopes is without basis. They’d spent far too much time apart, but no one was to blame for that.

There would never have been a way Emma could have found him, unless she was able to get in touch with Smee. Smee, who still only uses a landline because he worries the cell phone will damage his brain cells- or something like that. 

It would have been impossible. Or, at least, very nearly impossible. 

Sighing, Killian stretches his legs out as much as he can in the cramped front seat. He closes his eyes, focusing on something hopeful: soon, he’ll be with Emma and Henry again.

“Do you feel alright? Do you need your medicine?”

“No, I feel fine.” Killian opens his eyes, looking at Smee. “Thank you. You didn’t have to stick with me all that time, and coming to America on an uncertain quest…”

Smee smiles. “That’s what friends are for.”

/

Storybrooke is not on the map that they’d found at the airport. It’s not even on the map at the first few visitor’s centers they stop at. 

Thankfully, they’d been able to find someone at a gas station who gave them a general direction to move towards. After that, it had been a game of watching the road signs until they finally spotted one that claimed Storybrooke was twenty miles away.

The town is sleepy. Covered in fresh snowfall, the evening sun has colored the skies a soft orange and pink. The buildings lining Main Street sit idle, with hardly anybody moving to and fro. It’s calm and quiet, a solace he hadn’t thought he’d find.

“Where should we go first, do you think?” Smee asks nervously. “Is that a diner up ahead?”

Killian spots the neon sign that reads “Granny’s Diner” shining at them from the side of the road as if it’s an oasis in the desert. 

“I know we should probably go to the address there, but, I’m starving, Jones.”

Killian nods. “Aye. Let’s pull off for a meal. Perhaps while we’re there we can ask for directions. I think I remember Emma saying this was her favorite place to eat.”

Smee hums thoughtfully. He pulls into a parking spot across the street from the establishment and Killian stares out at it, nervousness tickling at his belly.

“You alright?”

He turns to his friend, nodding. “Aye. Just… really hoping she’s in town.”

Smee offers him a gentle smile. “Like I said before. We’ll find her, even if this is just a stop along the way.”

Killian nods. “Thanks, Smee.”

Even with Smee’s support, Killian hesitates. He finds himself nervous to leave the car, to step into the future and his new life. 

“I would bet she’s here.” Smee says, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I don’t get the feeling that she’d want to stray… you know, staying put so it’s easy for you to find them.” His friend smiles. “C’mon. Let’s go get something to eat. We can worry about finding Emma after. One step at a time, yeah?”

Smee pats him gently on the arm and then turns the car off. The immediate loss of heat from the air vents forces him to join Smee in opening his door. 

It takes a minute to climb out of the car, and when he does, he leans back against it, chest tight as he catches his breath. 

The air is frigid, but being in Storybrooke feels the opposite.

He’d heard Emma tell stories about this place for weeks. The aged brick of the buildings… the bare trees lining the streets… the banners on the light posts… it’s all as she’d described.

As he turns his attention to a nearby car with a Storybrooke bumper sticker, Smee comes alongside him, a wry smirk on his face.

“What’s that look for?”

His friend nudges his head toward the diner without saying a word. 

Killian follows Smee’s gesture and finds himself staring directly inside the building through the glass door at someone so familiar that it makes his heart drop directly into his belly.

Emma.

He’s fast on his feet, practically running across the street toward the diner. Suddenly, every ache and pain he’d been feeling falls away. All he sees and knows is Emma.

She opens the door, a bell tinkling in her wake, and she doesn’t look up, typing something into her phone. He stops, wanting her to notice him, but she crashes straight into him instead.

“Oh!” She gasps, almost slipping as she struggles to keep her balance. She catches onto his arms and grips tightly. “Sorry. That’s the second time that’s happened to me in under an hour, if you can believe it.”

And she finally meets his eyes.

In a heartbeat, everything changes. 

She shakes her head slowly in disbelief. “Killian.”

Emma wraps her arms around him, holding him tightly. He grunts slightly at the brute impact, but returns the hug, eyes squeezed shut.

“Emma. Emma.” Killian catches his breath, his grip on her tightening. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

She threads her fingers into his hair for a few seconds before pulling away to look at his face, thoroughly this time, which gives him the chance to, in desperation, study everything about her.

It’s only been a month, but it feels like it’s been an eternity. 

Her hair curls in waves down her shoulders, the tops of her ears covered by her beanie hat, and she looks exactly as he remembers, though this time, she’s far less upset.

They laugh, still holding onto each other, and Emma shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. You’re here!”

“Aye, love.”

God, he loves her. 

He opens his mouth to say as much, but she cuts him off with her lips on his, just as desperate and passionate as it had been the last time they’d kissed. This time, though, he holds on tighter knowing that they’d never need another tearful goodbye kiss. 

When she pulls away, he leans into her, swaying slightly at the intensity of being here with her. He’d dreamed of this moment dozens of times, but never once did he think that it would feel like he could fly.

“I love you.” Emma says with absolutely no hesitation.

His heart skips a heavy beat. Killian can’t help but smile when he meets her eyes again. “I love you too.”

/

Selfishly, Emma tells Killian to wait out by the dock for her so she can get some time with him before introducing him to her parents, who still sit at their table at Granny’s finishing up their meal.

With Henry still in her lap, Mary Margaret meets Emma’s eyes first thanks to a little wiggle Henry gives at the sight of her. 

“I thought you were going back to the house.”

For the life of her, Emma can’t wipe the dumb grin she has on her face. Killian is here. He’s here and everything is changed, for the better. She feels like she can see clearly for the first time in a long time, no longer burdened with grief or loss.

“I… was thinking I could take Henry from you. Maybe take a quick walk.”

Her mother narrows her eyes. Clearly, she’s being far too obvious that everything is more than okay again.

“Okay…”

She collects Henry, taking time to dress him to go out into the cold.

“Are you sure you’re alright, honey?” David asks. “Just a few minutes ago you were ready to drive up to the airport and leave town.”

Emma peers up at her father, nodding. “Yeah. I’m fine.” She looks at her mom, who still seems unconvinced. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

Mary Margaret grabs her tea and has a sip. Then, as Emma puts Henry in his stroller, she says, “You know… there’s a nice view outside from here.”

Emma hums, unwilling to budge on telling them that Killian’s currently in Storybrooke until they’ve had a few minutes to themselves. There’s a lot that they need to talk about. 

“Yeah. It’s pretty out there.”

Her mother hums back at her. “One might say it’s mistletoe weather.”

David seems confused, tilting his head at his wife. “What…”

“I’ll meet you guys back at the house, okay?” Emma smiles at them both, trying to move as quickly as she can so she doesn’t leave Killian out in the cold by himself for much longer.

The minute Emma can see Killian sitting in her favorite spot, Henry giggles as if he can recognize him.

“Henry!” Killian grins, pivoting with his arms held outward.

Emma smiles happily when the two embrace, Henry squishing Killian’s face between his two hands so he can give him sloppy baby kisses.

“Oh, thank you. I’ve missed this.” Killian laughs, gently moving Henry away from his face to instead sit in his lap. 

He meets Emma’s eyes briefly and she sits down beside him. He extends his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“I would’ve come after you right away, but...”

She squeezes his hand where it rests over Henry’s belly. There will be time for explaining later. Right now, she just needs him to know that she’s here for him. 

“It’s okay. You’re here now.”

They sit in silence, watching the boats on the water, and Killian sighs, sitting upright. Emma joins him, turning so she can see him again.

There are so many things she wants to ask him. Stories she wants to hear. People he needs to meet, and places he needs to go. But she needs one answer more than the rest.

“Are you going to stay with us?”

Killian raises an eyebrow, laughing like she’s crazy. “Where else would I go, darling?”

Emma searches his eyes, not feeling soothed yet. “The island was your home. You built it up with your brother…” 

She doesn’t mention the losses of Milah or their child, knowing that their graves are on the island, too. 

Suddenly, all she feels is guilt. He shouldn’t have had to follow her here. 

The weeks she’d spent aching and yearning for him to come here to her were so selfish. If anything, she should’ve poured more time into finding him, in being there for him, and staying by his side no matter what.

Especially now, with the knowledge that their lives are going to be entwined in such a powerful way, it feels as if she’s failed him. Emma isn’t sure how she wants to tell him about the baby, but she can’t do it yet. Not until things slow down again.

“You didn’t have to come here.” Emma whispers. She closes her eyes with remorse and pulls away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you if you weren’t ready to leave.”

Maybe it’s her past abandonments coming back to give her one last swift kick to the gut, but she has a hard time believing that he’d actually be here because of her. That he’d want to be with her so much that he’d leave his entire world behind to live in hers.

“Emma.” Killian reaches for her hand again, warmly interlocking their fingers. “I’m not supposed to be here right now. I was concussed. I have four broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. I have an almost upsetting smattering of other smaller injuries.”

The bruised and healing features of his face are more pronounced in the silence that follows. He’d been through hell. This much is clear.  

“I wasn’t pushed to leave,” he says, holding her gaze intentionally. “I very much want to be here. So much so that I dragged Smee across the ocean so that I could be with you for Christmas day.” 

The weight falls off of her shoulders and she closes her eyes in relief. 

“Smee is terrified of flying, by the way. That was... fun.”

She can’t help but laugh at the tone of his voice. 

They both turn their attention to Henry. He plays with Killian’s zipper, content in his lap, happily babbling with his head tipped upward. 

It hits her then that this is her family. No matter what happened, if she’d gone after him or not, if he’d stayed on the island or not, they would always be a family.

Killian takes a moment to stare at her. “You were right. I didn’t want anything to interrupt my life… but I needed you to.” Her breath catches at the honesty of his words. “You and Henry are my home. Don’t doubt that, Emma.”

She sighs and slides closer to him on the bench, her cheek finding his shoulder blade. He smells just like she remembers. And he’s oh so warm.

Emma can’t help but think ahead of what’s still to come. He has to meet her parents, her friends… find a job here in town. And she still has to tell him about the island’s parting gift to them: a baby.

There’s one thing she knows he definitely has to do today, and it’s far and away the most terrifying of everything else. 

“Are you ready to meet my parents?”

When she pulls away from him, there’s something anxious she finds in his gaze. 

“I'm nervous about how they’ll look at me. I’m not a hero by any means. You know that better than most.”

Emma frowns, tilting her head to the side a little. “You are a hero, though, Killian. Look at what you did to protect us.”

He clenches his jaw and adjusts his grasp on Henry. The baby starts to cry, probably getting a little too cold, so Emma takes him from Killian and settles him in the stroller.

“He’s cold,” Emma explains. She starts to feel it herself, the cold air nipping at her cheeks and nose. A chill runs through her body. “Mom and Dad are at the diner. We can go there, or we could go home. You’ll have to meet them either way, though. I don’t think I can hide you from them forever.”

Killian stands, joining her. He seems hesitant, maybe a bit bashful, tucking his hand and blunt wrist into his jacket pockets. “Let’s go meet them at the diner. I’m hungry.”

Emma nods, smiling at him. “I’ll protect you if they make it too weird.”

He chuckles and plants a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, love.”

/

Walking with Emma and Henry back up the sidewalk toward the diner again, Killian feels anxious. 

It’s different, being in the place she’d spoken so fondly about, about to meet the people she’d longed for the most during her time with him on the island. He imagines she’s told them about him, but isn’t sure what exactly was shared. 

“Do they know that we…”

Emma meets his eyes, laughing a little. “Yeah. Um… I told them we’re together.” She pauses. “But I… it was only a few days there at the end, so maybe we can back off on it until we’re settled in more and can be serious?”

Killian can’t help but smile wryly. “Well, darling, I don’t usually tell people I love them if I don’t intend to be serious about it.”

Her answering blush is sweet.

“I do, you know,” he adds, “I do love you.”

They slow to a stop just outside of Granny’s Diner, Emma turning to him with her pretty green eyes sparkling ever so slightly. She presses her palm against his chest and pushes up onto her toes to kiss him, ever so chaste.

“I love you too.” Emma turns toward the diner, taking a steadying breath. “Okay. Let's do this.”

The bell above the door tinkles when they open it, and once they’re inside, he’s brought back to his childhood, when he and Liam would venture out to a corner cafe. The smells of coffee and grease, mixed with the fresher Christmas scents, like vanilla and peppermint, fill his nostrils. Christmas music plays over the radio speakers.

The diner isn’t very full. A waitress at the bar cleans while a few patrons talk in quiet tones scattered throughout the small space.

Emma leads him to the back of the room, to a booth in the back corner. He’s surprised to find a familiar face in Smee, who chews eagerly on a cheeseburger beside a stranger.

The stranger, a woman with dark black hair and bright eyes, seems to notice him first, a smile filling her lips in the kindest way. 

Emma pushes Henry into a position where he can see the people at the table. “So… um… I guess you already know.”

The man sitting opposite the pretty dark haired woman perks up, turning to look at Killian without saying anything.

Emma tilts her head, smiling at Smee. “Hi again, Smee.” 

“Miss Emma. It’s nice to see you.”

Emma takes a breath. “Mom, Dad, this is Killian.”

Emma’s mother immediately gasps excitedly and pushes out of the booth, clamoring to get her arms around him as quickly as possible. He can’t help but laugh at the gesture, finding the woman as endearing as anyone he’s ever met.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She pulls away from him, meeting his eyes with intention, her smile wide. She has kindness in her eyes. “I’m Mary Margaret, Emma’s mom. And this handsome charmer is my husband, David.”

Mary Margaret turns, gesturing to the man who now stands beside them. David, much like his wife, smiles at him with kindness in his eyes. He holds out a hand to shake and Killian obliges.

“It’s good to meet you. We can’t thank you enough for being there for Emma and Henry.”

Killian shakes his head. “It was a privilege they found me when they did.”

David hums. He pulls his hand away and gestures to the booth. “Sit. Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I am. I’d like to eat if it’s not any trouble.”

“None at all.” Mary Margaret insists. She’s off in a flash, going to get something from the waitress at the bar. 

He and Emma sit together, Emma having grabbed Henry again from the stroller. David slides in opposite of them, next to Smee.

“They flew in just a few hours ago,” Emma shares with her father.

“Portland?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious.

“Aye. Yeah. It was an interesting trip.”

Mary Margaret arrives at the table then, handing him a menu. “Here you go. Granny said she’ll be out in a few minutes to get your order.”

“Much obliged.” Killian smiles. He sets about studying the menu, nervous to be sitting in silence with Emma’s parents.

“You’re here in time for Christmas!” Mary Margaret says happily. “That’s wonderful. It’s the best holiday of the year. We have a lot of traditions we can share with you.”

“Oh, Mom,” Emma speaks up before Killian can say anything. “Can you tell your cousins to come some other day this week? I don’t think we should have a crazy full house this year.”

Mary Margaret’s eyes widen. “Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll send them a message right now.”

“Most of the presents are for Henry,” David says. “Just preparing you, Emma.”

Killian stares at Henry, the little boy happy to play with a little noise-making toy that he shakes. His heart squeezes fondly, joyful that he’s able to be here with them again.

Emma laughs. “I know. Henry deserves it. It’s his first Christmas.”

The light conversation continues for a while. It’s easy to talk about Henry and about the weather, or about the best things to order off of the menu. But that’s not what Killian finds himself the most nervous about.

Once he places his order with Granny, he keeps his left wrist and right hand beneath the table, anxious to show his blunted wrist off too much to Emma’s parents. The hook had been taken from him, and the hospital had tried to get him fitted with a mechanical hand, but he hadn’t wanted it.

“So, what happened all these weeks, Killian?” David asks. “Emma told us there were pirates.”

He hesitates. This is what he’d been nervous about. This, and sharing why he wanted to be on an island by himself.

“They took me,” Killian admits, looking at Smee because he’s really the only one who truly knows what happened. “Held me hostage. I’m sure you can guess that they beat me, by the look of me.”

He feels Emma’s hand on his arm beneath the table. Looking over at her and Henry, he takes a breath.

“I only survived because I kept thinking about how I needed to get back to them.” 

Emma smiles ever so slightly. He imagines that hearing about what he’d been through isn’t the most pleasant thing, so he decides to keep his answer at that. 

He turns back to her parents and adds, “I don’t know what Emma told you about me and my time as the lighthouse keeper, but, I’ll just be honest with you and say that it was a hard time in my life and I wanted to be alone on that island. And then, there was Henry, and there was Emma, and suddenly, everything I thought I wanted was changed.”

Mary Margaret gives him the most gentle smile. “It seems you were meant to find each other.” 

Emma rubs Killian’s arm and he looks at her. She’s so pretty. He loves her so much.

“So much happened to get you there at exactly the right time,” Mary Margaret says wistfully. “It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it, David? We almost didn’t go on that trip.”

“I know.” David nods in agreement. For whatever reason, Emma’s father seems to be a little wary of him, even though he’s put it all out on the table for them. “So you’re in Storybrooke now. What are your plans?”

“Dad…”

“What? It’s a fair question.”

“Killian’s had a long day.”

“It’s alright, love,” Killian smiles at Emma. Turning to David, he thoughtfully considers his next words. “I’m planning on taking it one day at a time, but I thought I’d get a job in town.”

“And how do Emma and Henry factor in?”

“Dad. Honestly.” Emma shakes her head in disapproval. “How about we let him settle into his new life here and once we know what’s going on, we’ll let you know?”

David sighs. “I just want to know that you’re not here for the wrong reasons.”

“I assure you, I’m not.” Killian promises.

The silence is almost deafening. Smee perks up, having cleaned his plate.

“Would you folks happen to have a spare bedroom or two?” Smee wonders. “I hate to ask, but I spent quite a bit of money getting here, so...”

“Oh, of course you can stay with us. Both of you.” Mary Margaret smiles, looking between him and Smee. “We have a guest bedroom and a pullout couch.”

Smee grins. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Nolan. I promise I won’t stay long. Can’t say the same for Jones, though.”

Killian takes a deep breath, looking at Emma. Henry has captured her attention, having curled his fingers into her hair. Laughing, she meets Killian’s gaze after a second of detangling his fingers.

He’d kiss her smile, but doesn’t want to embarrass her in front of her parents. After all, they’re still trying to figure this whole thing out.

“How long are you staying?” she wonders, clearly teasing.

Sighing playfully, he shakes his head. “I don’t know. I was thinking… maybe forever?” 

Emma grins at that. “Good.”

[grapenamjams]

waking up with you

Genre: Fluff 

Characters: Muriel from the arcana and my apprentice Eliza

A/N:  a little bit about my MC 

Her name is Eliza (she/her. Female.) She is 5′2 has brown wavy hair, brown eyes (with specks of green) she also has adorable freckles across her nose. lastly she has a artic fox, named Nell as a familiar who is enchanted to keep cold during the summer and whenever Nell walks she leaves behind snow prints on the ground (think of what Olaf from frozen has lol) 

- The Arcana is a Mobile story game where you get to choose your path and get a ending according to the choices you made. created by nixhyrdra, can be found on the app store- 

Eliza always finds waking up in Muriel’s hut a challenge. The boulders that make up the walls for the small living space limits the amount of morning light that seeps through to let her know that it’s a new day. She convinced Muriel to put a round window on top of the door sometime ago to have some natural light come in but from the fur bed in the back, the light that does come through doesn't do much good to wake her. So because of that she has to rely on her inner clock to wake her self up which in most cases works, but usually she lets Muriel wake her up when she feels the loss of warmth beside her or when she hears rustling near the fire as he puts new logs and makes sure it didn’t go out during the night. But today, Muriel woke her in a way that only happens a few times a month, rather shes only caught him a handful of times.

She feels Muriel push her hair back gently away from her face and slowly goes down her cheek with his knuckles. She tries to continue her slow breathing to make it seem that she is sleep, although its becoming harder to do so when her heart begins to race inside her chest. she feels Muriel’s finger brush against her bottom lip and rest on her chin. “Eliza.” His deep voice sounds out next to her. She feels his lips on her forehead next, “wake up” he mumbles against her and kisses her head again, without knowing a sigh escapes her, she feels Muriel pull away to look at her and she catches herself to not visibly frown at the loss of touch. Muriel chuckles “you’re gonna be late to open up shop if you stay asleep” he nuzzles his nose against hers and she can’t help but let out a small giggle at his cute affection.

 She opens her eyes to see Muriel above her sit up pink tinting his cheeks “y-your awake!” Her smile broadens at him “I thought I heard you telling me to wake up?” She sits up and stretches her arms above her letting out a groan. “I did...I mean I’m sorry for waking you! But you know the shop and all...” He rubs the back of his neck, he shyly looks at Eliza “Um...Did you....uhhh” his face goes bright red and she knows that he’s wondering if she had felt him kiss her, and as much as she wants to say yes to see his reaction she doesn’t want him to stop waking her the way he did today. “Thats okay you don’t have to apologize, I just heard your voice calling me” she leans over to him and kisses him “and I slept well thank you for asking” Eliza smiles and Muriel blinks at her for a moment confused as why she said that, but then he understands that she might have thought that he was asking how she slept not if she felt his touch and kiss. But still he stammers with his words “well...” he coughs “good. I’m glad...” he quickly turns behind him to grab something and when he comes back to face the waking girl he has a Plate in his hands. “I- uh made you breakfast. If you want.” He pouts, the red on his face turning to a soft blush on the bridge of his nose “so you don’t forget to eat...I thought you should have something before you go”

 Eliza cheeks hurt from smiling and her heart flutters “Muriel this is so nice, thank you so much! You didn’t have to” Eliza takes away the plate of eggs and sliced fruit from him and gives him a peck on the cheek. Muriel smiles and averts his gaze somewhere else “it’s nothing.” Eliza smiles at him trying to pass off his actions of care and affection as something small and not a big deal, but In turn makes her love and appreciate them even more. She shifts to make herself more comfortable on the bed “did you already eat?” She asks as she brings the fork to her mouth and takes a bite of eggs. Muriel turns to her and shakes his head “not really hungry.” Eliza frowns she feels bad eating when he hasn’t, Muriel notices and quickly reassures her “I’ll eat soon I promise. Don’t worry” Eliza sighs, for a big man Muriel doesn’t really eat a lot just the bare minimal to not waste food, a habit he kept from his time as an orphan living on the docks. but of course it still makes her worry she wants him to be healthy and enjoy life’s delicacies. She shifts closer to him, “I’ll hold you to that” she picks a sliced fruit from her plate “but for now help me eat this fruit, yeah?” He looks at her then the bright colored fruit between her fingers, hesitant at first not wanting to eat her food but after a pause he nodes seeing her face wanting him to eat something with her. “if it makes you feel better” Eliza smiles and feeds him the fruit she blushes lightly watching his lips take the fruit from her fingers. She takes another bite of her eggs and feeds another piece of fruit to Muriel.

 Once all of the food is gone, Eliza sighs happily and thanks Muriel again for the food. but then Remembers that she needs to leave soon or else she will be more late than she already is in opening the shop. Muriel quickly catches on her change of mood “what’s wrong?” He asks looking at her wanting to know why her smile had faded. Eliza goes to him and hugs his waist laying her head on his chest listening to his steady heart beat she feels the vibrations of his laugh through her when she voices  she doesn't want to leave. Muriel puts his hands around her resting his chin on her head.

 “Can’t I just stay here with you?” Her voice asks. She feels his large hand rub up and down her back. “Of course you can. But... didn’t Asra leave again yesterday and closed up early?” Eliza sighs “yeah he did. and I’m already late today... so I better get going” Muriel hums in agreement and places a kiss on her head before standing up with her. Eliza gives a final stretch and begins to get ready. Muriel steps out with Inanna so Eliza could have more room inside the hut. Before she gets ready she gives Nell a piece of bread so she can eat for now. she scratches her ear “good morning pretty girl” Nell thumps her tail against the floor waiting for more food. Eliza laughs “I’ll give you more food when we get to the shop”

* * *

Eliza followed by her familiar step through the door into the warm day, the sun slowly making its way towards the center of the blue sky. Eliza slips her satchel over her head placing it to her side and buttons her deep blue cloak around her shoulders. Her eyes wonder in search for the tall man and finds him kneeled by the chicken pen feeding the chicks from his opened left hand. As she walks towards him she notices that Muriel has his cloak on which puzzles her because he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s at home. “Muriel” She says placing a hand on the back of his head and runs her fingers through his dark hair , “I’m off” Muriel shakes the rest of the feed off his hand and stands up. She hugs him looking up at him, the large man places a hand against the side of her neck. “I’ll see you in the evening okay? I’ll bring back some food to eat together, so don’t worry about cooking” Eliza smiles and makes to step  back but Muriel stops her

“I actually need stuff from the shop... for protection charms.”

“Ah okay, what do you need? I’ll bring them to you when I come back” she looks at him waiting for him to tell her what he needs but the green eyed man only pouts and blushes a bit. “that’s-uh not what I meant.” Eliza tilts her head to the side slightly “what do you mean? You don’t need ingredients then?”

“I do... but i don’t want you bringing them to me.” He pauses for a moment. Eliza is still confused for a moment thinking what he could mean but then realization starts to come through as she realizes he’s holding on to her wrist.

 “Also you’re gonna be alone at the shop...I know there’s a protective spell around it but still...something could happen.” She looks back up to his face and sees that he still is pouting and averting his eyes.

Eliza lets out a small laugh making the shy man before her look down at her. “Muriel are you trying to say you want to come to the shop with me?” He hangs his head and nodes “yes.” He mumbles. Eliza blushes overjoyed that he wants to come with her to the shop. With the hand that Muriel is holding her wrist Eliza slips her fingers through his, holding his hand as she goes on to her tippy toes to give him a kiss “why are you so adorable?” Making Muriel’s blush reach his ears. “I’m not adorable.” He says back. Eliza goes back down and gently tugs at his hand to start walking “mmhmm sure your not, come on let’s go” she says with a laugh. She doesn't see Muriel look at her with a soft grin on his face, relaxing his shoulders as he squeezes her small hand in his letting her lead him away.

[sweetlilpaulie]

Tiny Dancer

John X Reader

Caution: Heated moments, Strong language, Sexual references.

I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out.

Enjoy, my cuties.

~~~

The room was on fire.

Not literally, of course, but the hundred bodies cramped up in a tiny club, definitely made it feel that way.

I love to dace, what can I say?

So here I was, in the heat of the moment, shoving away my introvert, and dancing like there was no tomorrow.

Maybe there wouldn’t be.

Who the fuck cares?

A few hours earlier, I was chatting with my best friend.

“I’ve got a man. You need a man! Babe, you could get any guy that you want, all you gotta do is look at him.”

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Lisa, I don’t need anybody. Just chill out. I’m fine just the way I am.” I smirked “Untouchable.”

“Dude, you can’t stay a virgin forever.”

“Yes, I can watch me!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Yes, actually.”

She grinned “I bet you 100 dollars to go to Mark’s tonight and get roaring drunk. If you comeback a virgin, I’ll eat my shoe.”

“And pay me 100 bucks.”

“Yes, that too.”

I shook her hand.

“Deal.”

I went to Mark’s.

I even went a little further and wore the most scandalous thing in my wardrobe. Spaghetti strapped, thigh length, skimpy black dress, if you’d even call it that, clung to my hourglass body like a long lost friend. Ruby studs and a matching necklace only added to my look. Of course, as any girl looking for a good time, I wore 3 inch heels that hurt like a bitch. I put so much makeup on my face that my guise didn’t even look remotely familiar.

“What to drink?” asked the bartender, wiping champagne flutes.

“Surprise me.” I grinned.

He smiled back “As you wish.” He got working, mixing his voodoo drink.

I glanced around the place. It was fairly quiet, for a club at least. 

Some old men smoking pipes in the back.

A girl and her girlfriends sipping margaritas at the bar.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Mia, Happy birthday to you!”

The girls clapped and the girl, who I assumed was Mia, took a sip of the drink. Immediately after, she coughed hysterically.

Amused, I presumed she had just gotten to legal drinking age and so she was living it up with her girlfriends.

Not a bad way to live, I thought, watching them a while.

The bartender came back with the surprise drink.

“Mad Hatter.” he said.

I stared at it. I was a pretty turquoise colour, and the edges were rimmed with pink.

I took a sip.

The flavour hit my tongue instantly. Definitely lime, along with something that tasted like melted jolly ranchers, vodka and something I couldn’t quite place.

Just as I took another sip, a large group came in. All of them were young men. Very handsome young men. I decided to pay them no mind.

At least for the moment.

As I continued taking sips, I felt one of the boys’ eyes on me. I shoved away the flirty impulse of turning, and winking at him and instead stared out at the town, which was getting darker by the minute.

Minutes ticked by, and more people came in.

The sound of chatter was starting to irritate me.

I stood up, and walked straight to the jukebox.

Once the music hit my ears, a sudden relief washed over me. I finished off the my drink and requested another one, a bit stronger this time. The bartender’s eyes raised, but he said nothing as he went to work on another one.

Once I got it, I threw back half of it. I was started to feel extremely relaxed and a bit woozy.

Normally, I’m a fairly mellow girl and don’t really care to be the center of attention. 

Oh, but tonight was different. I was the star of the show and every boy in the room wanted me.

But no fucking way would any of them get me.

I swayed and danced to the music.

I was the only one at first, but I didn’t give a fuck. Soon enough, birthday girl and her groupies joined me. Everyone started catching on, pushed back their chairs, and got lost in the music.

I ordered one “Mad Hatter” after another, letting the voodoo juices work their way into my system.

I was completely and utterly roaring drunk.

My arms and hips moved perfectly in sync to the rhythm. One boy after another tried making moves on me, wrapping their arms around my waist and stealing kisses. I’d let them for a while, but then I’d push them away, remaining the Untouchable.

But then, there was the boy.

That one damned boy.

Who ruined everything.

I parted the crowd like the red sea as I went to request another drink.

“You’re quite the dancer.”

I turned to the source of the words.

I smirked “I know. I don’t think I’ve had a chance with you yet. Wanna try?”

He smirked. 

“No thank you. I try to stay away from man eaters.”

I scowled at the remark “Who says smartass? I’m just trying to have a good time.”

His eyes darkened.

“I’ll show you a good time.”

I raised an eyebrow as I sipped another most likely drug-filled drink.

“Wanna bet? I doubt you’d last 5 seconds with me, pretty boy.”

“The name’s John.”

“Whatever. Don’t really care. So, what d’you say? Deal, or are you too chicken?”

He rose his hand up.

“Deal.”

I rose mine to shake, but he grabbed it and kissed it.

Like, really kissed it.

My heart went into my throat.

“You’re good.” I admitted.

He raised his eyes to me. “Oh, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

There was a gleam in his eyes which sent chills down my spine.

He pulled me off to the side and we started dancing. It was fairly normal, hands on my waist, mine around his neck.

Soon however, he pulled me closer and closer to him. He leaned toward me and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead he whispered in my ear.

“Tonight baby, you’re mine. And I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.”

My body radiated with heat, my face flushed red. Nobody had said something so forward and confident to me, ever.

“What makes you think I want you to fuck me?”

He grinned wolfishly at me “This.”

This time he leaned in for the kiss.

And oh boy, what a kiss it was.

Not any little peck in high school could have prepared me for this. Who knew someones tongue could be so magical?

He mapped out my entire mouth before he let me breathe again.

He was a hot mess, hair tousled, lips big and pink, and his eyes, full of desire.

His hands lightly went up and down my figure.

“You’re sexy as fuck.”

I blushed slightly. Biting my lip, I looked at the ground. My Shy was rearing it’s head back, coming to haunt me, dammit. What happened to Miss Confident?”

He tilted my head up to face him. 

He licked his lips hungrily staring into my eyes and looking deep into my soul.

“Let’s get outta here.”

He grabbed my hand, and lead us out of Mark’s.

Some of the other boys I had seen him with earlier were smoking outside.

They turned and grinned at him.

“Ey, John! What ya up to?”

“None of your bloody business, Paul.”

They all looked at me and some of them oohed.

“Have fun Johnny!”

“Oh, fuck off Ringo.” John snapped.

He opened the car door for me and we were off.

I couldn’t believe this was happening. 

Today, I was supposed to prove that I didn’t need anybody by getting drunk and breaking all the boys’ hearts.

Now, I was in a car, bound to lose the very thing I promised I’d never do, in a manner of minutes.

Damn you, John,

We entered a fairly decent looking flat.

“Let me take your coat.”

I shrugged off my mink and walked further into the place.

“Well, welcome to my humble abode.”

It was then that I realized how drunk I was.

The room was spinning.

 “I think... I should sit down.” I slumped onto the couch.

“Right. Where were we? Ah, yes.” 

He turned on me.

He crawled on top of me. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin, and the heat from the leather sofa underneath me.

He traced my lips.

“I believe I never caught your name. Care to oblige me with it?”

“(y/n).”

He smiled. “Unique. Very pretty. Like you.”

He leaned in once more.

“Now as much as I like this dress, I think it would look much better on the floor.”

I unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt. 

“Whatever you say, handsome.”

He caught my lips once again for a searing kiss.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” he growled.

I smiled goofily, my eyes a bit glazed.

“Sounds good to me.”

~~~

“You owe me 100 dollars, I believe.” Lisa chirped brightly.

I groaned “Shut up, would ya? My head’s killing me.”

She smirked “I won’t stop till you say you lost.”

“Fine, you won. Now shut the fuck up and leave me alone.”

She grinned like a cat who got the cream. Passing me a coffee cup she said, “He seemed very handsome. What was his name?”

“John.” I winced. 

“(y/n), you’re human. We all need to give in to our desires sometimes. I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah...sure, whatever.” I grumbled.

Deep down, I was glad she was right.

I should do it again sometime.

~~~

[theincompetentgenius]

Headcanons with S/O Who Hid Their Birthday (Jonah, Luka, Edgar)

anon:  Can I have Jonah, Luka and Edgar headcanons with an s/o who hid their birthday, or didn’t bother to be vocal about it, and they had to find out through other means?

Here you go and I hope you enjoy them!

Jonah Clemence

Jonah finds out from Edgar, who casually brings up the topic as they’re training. He realizes that Edgar learned about his lover’s birthday before he did, which flares his temper. He drives the blade a little too close to the Jack’s ear and ends the duel. For the next hour, Jonah interrogates Edgar on how he found this information.

Initially, Jonah is confused (even hurt) that his S/O didn’t tell him about their birthday. Did he do something to them that they wouldn’t talk about their birthday? Why wouldn’t they want to talk about the day they were brought to life? It takes some time and reflection that his S/O has their reasons.

He pulls himself together and plans for an extravagant party almost a month in advance. The Queen of Hearts calls all the Red Army officials and assigns each officer a role for the birthday. Kyle and Zero get tasked with decorating the entire palace, Edgar has to plan all the activities, and Lancelot has to gather all the supplies. If you’re wondering, Jonah buys all the gifts, creates all the food, creates/gives out invitations, and is involved in the other officers’ tasks. 

On the day of their birthday, Jonah takes his lover to dress shopping. He tells them to pick their favorite dress, jewelry, and shoes. They spend the whole morning at the fitting room as the couple nit-pick through the articles of clothing. Although his S/O is slightly confused about Jonah’s obsession with picking the “right dress”, they assume it’s just Jonah’s way of taking them out for the day. After the Queen of Hearts manages to convince his S/O to keep the dress on for the entire day, they head to the Red Army Headquarters. 

When they arrive at the palace, his S/O notices that the castle is decorated in their favorite color. They tell Jonah how much they like decoration, who simply smirks and asks “I wonder who put all that effort in making the castle look so gorgeous?”

He’ll take their hand as they climb up the stairs. When his S/O opens the doors, they are greeted to heaven on the Cradle. The center of the room has a 5-layered vanilla-strawberry swirl cake with buttercream frosting (made by Jonah and the chefs) with desserts such as raspberry macaroons, millie-feuille, chocolate fondue, and puff pastries neatly lined up on tables at the side of the room. Jonah’s S/O spends more time eating at the party than anything else.

There are sparklers, balloons, crystals, exotic flowers, silk table cloths, and so much more. As if the throne room wasn’t already something straight out of a fairytale, Jonah only made it even more lavish than before.

Jonah ushers his lover to sit on the throne, claiming that today the get to be royalty. As soon as they take a seat, the entire Red Army pops out to sing Happy Birthday! The fireworks go off as Jonah turns to his S/O and pulls them into a long kiss, wishing them a happy birthday.

Luka Clemence

Luka found out when he came to your room, looking for you to tell you about his next mission (where he’ll be out for a week). Instead, he entered an empty room, so Luka decided to leave a note on his S/O’s table about his sudden departure. When placing the note, he noticed that there were a few other things on their desk, including some form of identification with their DOB.

The Jack of Spades doesn’t think much about it as he leaves the room to attend his other duties. Later in the day, the birthday issue pops into his head again. He thinks about it more seriously this time, but he assumes that his S/O wasn’t a birthday person. Perhaps it slipped their mind since a birthday only comes once every year.

Nevertheless, Luka begins to daydream about all the adorable birthday plans they could make together. He knew his S/O didn’t want anything too flashy, but he had to do something special for them. As he fell deeper in his thoughts, he realized that Jonah would be able to create the perfect party (but he’d never ask that pompous brat). All Luka could think of was making a nice dinner. 

He asks Seth for a little help because Seth is the Black Army’s unofficial party planner after all. The 7 of Spades squeals with glee, being more than happy to help Luka with his plans. 

The two prepare a cozy, candle-lit dinner. The decorations are simple and rustic, but Luka manages to hang his S/O’s favorite works of art and plays their favorite music in the background. Although Seth always wants to add more to the scene, Luka is exhausted. Besides, he didn’t want to go over-the-top since his S/O barely talked about their birthday.

Also, the Jack of Spades wanted his food to be the main decoration. For the main dish, he whips up a gourmet roasted chicken marinated in a savory and spicy sauce with sauteed vegetables and buttered rice. He also bakes his S/O’s favorite cake in a heart shape. The best part is that the cake has cake pops sticking out with the candles on top.

When the day finally arrives, Luka is very nervous. He doesn’t make any reference to his S/O’s birthday throughout the day. Luka doesn’t want to upset his S/O for making plans without them or somehow triggering a painful memory on their birthday. It takes a lot of breathing exercises and pep talks from Seth to calm him down.

Once it is dinner time, Seth ushers Luka’s S/O to a private room that is rarely used by the Black Army. When they enter the room, they are greeted with soft, glowing lights that spell “Happy Birthday!”. Luka appears from the back and gives them a long hug, letting them know how much they mean to him.

Once the lights are turned off, Luka lights the candles and tells their S/O to make a wish. They take a few seconds and blow out the candles. Luka can’t help but ask, “What did you wish for?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t come true.” And with that, the couple sits down and starts eating. The meal is so good that his lover nearly cries and asks for four servings. Somehow they have space for the cake too.

Edgar Bright

Let’s be real, Edgar knew about his S/O’s birthday a long time ago. He came across the auspicious date when going through a bunch of legal documents for everyone in the Red Army. He was hesitant to place his S/O’s documents with the other officers’ papers, but he felt that it made more sense than to place it with the information on the soldiers. As he went over his S/O’s documents, he found a line that listed their birthday. At that moment, Edgar realized that his lover never talked about their birthday.

Edgar doesn’t know why his lover would want to hide their birthday, but he understands it because he does the same thing. However, he doesn’t want them to spend their birthday alone either. So he’ll go around looking for clues for the perfect birthday surprise by asking his S/O seemingly-innocent questions. Although he doesn’t have much room for specific questions, Edgar gets all the information that he needs.

He spends the next week preparing for the event. It’s nothing too crazy, but he buys a few gifts and decorations for the occasion. Edgar also has Jonah teach him how to make some of his S/O’s favorite sweets and snacks. Jonah is both surprised and irritated that the Jack of Hearts is able to a great job at his first try, claiming that it was all thanks to his teaching.

The special day has arrived! He’ll act normal throughout the day, dropping a few hints here and there. It’s not until the sky has a tint of pink that Edgar asks his S/O to take a walk with him. He’ll cover their eyes as they walk to their destination.

Once they arrive, Edgar removes his hands and reveals a picnic next to the river. He kisses your hand, wishing his lover a very happy birthday. Immediately, the Creek family appears from a nearby tree and run to his S/O. They jump up and down, squawking with delight. It’s their way of saying “Happy Birthday!”

He has his S/O sit down while he unpacks all the delicious treats from the basket that he brought with him. There are some macaroons, sandwiches, and garlic bread. 

Edgar also has two gifts for the occasion. First, he pulls out a yellow box with a gold ribbon. Inside are the rarest jellybean flavors in the entire Cradle (he’s made sure the flavors are suited for his lover’s palette). The present was him trying to return a fraction of the sweetness that his lover brought into his life. 

The second gift is a lavender box, which has a beautiful necklace with three golden pendants: the initial of both of their first names and duck. He got this present to give his S/O something that will help them remember Edgar and the Creeks, no matter where they go.

The couple spends their time by the river for the rest of the evening. The Jack of Hearts will lay his head on his lover’s shoulder, letting them know that he’s always willing to lend an ear if they choose to tell him why they hide their birthday.

[hereliesanotherfic]

Three’s a Crowd || Erwin x Reader x Levi || Modern AU

Chapter 2 - Comfort in Comedy

You parked your good ol’ reliable highlander in your new, shared driveway for the 6th time this week and relaxed back into the cloth seats. It was hard to believe another week has come to an end, especially with how crazy it’s gotten for you. This previous Sunday, you had agreed to be Erwin and Levi’s new housemate, taking the third bedroom in their beautiful home. You felt a bit pitiful when you didn’t have many belongings to move in, but Levi commented it made it easier overall. Erwin took your clothes; Levi grabbed the couple boxes you had, and you were in your room in less than an hour. The rest of your night simply consisted of putting your belongings in the closet or drawers.

During the weeknights (since everybody went to work during the day), was the time you spent getting to know them better. Both work at a private detective company called the Survey Corps and have been partners for many years. Erwin is the commander of the sector and Levi is the captain. You knew almost nothing about this stuff, ignoring the fact you were new to their city. Levi explained how most of their days consist of paperwork at a desk in their ‘shitty office’ but the PD (Police Department) would give them a case here and there where they have to go to the scene or hunt somebody down. They almost constantly have a case or multiple going and you understood now why their house is so nice and why they’re so built.

Your coffee shop work has grown steady too. Each day the drinks were easier to make, you flowed more smoothly between customer service and food preparation and you met the remaining coworkers. Historia was the heir to the coffee shop, and she seemed like the perfect fit to run it and Connie was a master at fast-paced drink mixing. He even went through some efforts to create little foam bear faces in their drinks. (He said he’d teach you later, you’re holding him to that!) Him and Eren oversaw baking the pastries too, which one day when you’re comfortable, Armin said they could consider training you on.

Out of nowhere, your driver’s door flung open like a jack-in-the-box, triggering you to jump a bit out of your seat and back up onto the center console. Levi stood in the open-door space with his usual half-lidded stare, in which you proceeded to slide off the console as he spoke to you.

“What are you doing passing out in your car again? You have a room,” he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. He was dressed in a simple black suit, white button up, no tie. Even on Friday’s these guys dressed for success. His hair seemed a tad messy compared to how he left the house this morning. But you noticed even during dinner, socializing time, and whatnot, he would run his fingers through his bangs a lot.

“I-I wasn’t passing out!” You protested, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. Levi, very obviously, didn’t believe you, waiting for a better answer. “I was just thinking about how the week went and work, that’s all…” your cheeks held a brief tint of pink, being caught dozing off was a bit embarrassing. Especially by someone strict and disciplined like Levi.

“Huh…so I guess you can wake up an hour earlier when you make coffee for us tomorrow.” Your cheeks puffed in pout at his snide remark. Smartass… “C’mon, if Erwin’s not home yet then we start making dinner tonight,” Levi stated while stepping aside to allow you room to exit the Highlander. He led you both in, unlocking the door and you both took your shoes off to leave them at the mat.  

You had changed out of your coffee smelling work clothes into some comfortable dark green joggers. By the time you had walked back to the kitchen, Levi had already started preparing. He had changed into a light grey, v-neck sweatshirt, and black sweatpants. On top of that he wore the pure-white kitchen apron that normally hung in the pantry. It was tied securely around his waist, tucking in the sweatshirt a bit and giving slightly more definition to his shoulder blades. Your eyes trailed it, following along his broad shoulders and the bit of skin exposed on the back of his neck. Just as you were admiring his sharp jawline again, he turned his head looking over at you. You immediately perked up in your stand and bee-lined over to him to help cook. He didn’t seem phased at your staring if he truly had caught you.

“Make sure to chop it finely,” Levi stated while chopped up the chicken breasts into clean strips, proceeding to place them in the sizzling frying pan of butter and olive oil. It was incredible how well these guys can cook, and the taste was remarkable!  Your next job after the parsley was mincing the garlic, Levi took care of cooking the food, which you didn’t mind. He started to mix all the ingredients together, one by one, and the smell of the food made you anxious for dinner.

“It smells amazing…” you hummed, looking over his arm to see the little bubbles of oil popping from under the chicken. Levi let out a satisfied ‘hmp’.

“Just don’t drool in our food. We’ll be eating shortly, brat,” he said, using his free hand to push you back down flat on your feet. You didn’t even realize you were on your tipy toes to stare at the dish. You looked up at his steel grey eyes that looked so tired.

“Why do you keep calling me brat?” you inquired.

“’Cause you are one still.”

“You’re only a couple years older than me,” you huffed. Levi turned his head to look at you, your (e/c) orbs locking with his steel ones.

“Maybe once you cook a full meal that doesn’t taste like the inside of a coffin, you’ll be less of a brat,” he stated, plain as day. His rude comment of your cooking was only dulled by you practically getting lost in his eyes. You broke eye contact and look away from him towards the open living room.

“I’ll get there, I just cook simpler meals,” you muttered. Levi watched you for a moment before a brief ‘ha’ escaped his lips and he looked back to flip the chicken strips. “Where did you learn how to cook so well?” You challenged.

“A friend of mine,” he said softly, his voice a bit quiet. You stared at him intensely and he felt it, glancing back at you before back to his cooking. You weren’t going to let up so easily. “When we first started living together, he did all the cooking, much better than I. I picked up his tricks and tips.”

“What’s his name? Maybe he could be my teacher too!”

“Farlan, and don’t get your hopes up. He doesn’t live in this town, so he’s not around often.”

“Then you teach me, Captain Levi,” you grinned largely, leaning your elbows on the counter and hands holding up your head. Levi stared down at you for a moment, your smile was incredibly pure and beautiful. He reached a hand up and ruffled your hair briefly, muttering another ‘brat’, before reaching above you and grabbing a large serving plate. You smiled as you moved towards another cabinet to get the dinner plates. You knew you got Levi to teach you how to cook!

As you both were plating the hot meal, Erwin stepped in the door and his nostrils immediately caught whiff of the food. You popped your head around the corner to greet him.

“Erwin, just in time! Levi and I just finished making dinner, hurry to get changed before it gets cold!” You smiled, earning a smile from the blonde man himself.

“Of course, (y/n), I’ll join you both in a moment,” he chuckled and headed to change in his room. You set down three plates and all utensils, Levi scolding you for placing them in the wrong positions and having you correct your mistake. Erwin stepped to the dinning table’s head seat wearing a comfortable pair of dark wash jeans and pastel yellow t-shirt. You eyed how the hem of the t-shirt line ended at the mid-section of his arm muscles, giving a nice view when he naturally flexed, the t-shirt barely giving definition to his chest muscles too. You glanced back down at your dinner plate of pale chicken. Either they bought shirts that were a size too small, or their bulging muscles were too much for their clothes. (You didn’t entirely mind though.) The three of you proceeded to enjoy a well-made dinner, you while ignoring your curious thoughts.

“Erwinnnn!! Leviiiii!!!!” Came a shrilling voice from behind the front door, sending a wave of chills down your spine. It was unexpected right after finishing your meal, normally the nights were quiet chatter. Immediately, Levi groaned, elbow on the table and hand holding onto his forehead. The black tea in his cup was almost completely gone. Erwin smiled pathetically at the raven before standing up and heading to the door. Erwin’s plate was completely cleaned, his cup of black tea standing empty. The door opened to a hyper-active brunette with glasses, immediately running inside the door to the dining table, Erwin not too far in pursuit of her.

“Did you guys hear?!” She exclaimed, hands practically slamming on the table. “Deadly Devour almost had another kill!!” Your eyes looked at her with worry, not necessarily about the horrifying words she said, but the fact it looked like their cheeks were red from blushing and their happy exclaim about it. “The only reason the victim survived is thanks to a patrol cop on duty who called backup! He’s making his moves!!” The brunette panted, licking her dry lips from excitement. You face paled a bit, was this person okay???

“Hange, please settle down, you’ll worry (y/n),” Erwin pardoned, motioning to you and her eyes followed, softening a bit. Levi sighed.

“What’s the status of the victims?” he calmly moved the conversation along, wanting as much information as the crazy detective could give him.

“The woman and the first officer are in the hospital in critical condition, they’re doing everything they can, so we just have to wait.” She then stepped around your chair to the free one on your side, pulling it out and taking a seat besides you. She outstretched her hand a bit with a gentler smile gracing her face. This was a pretty side of her from the five minutes you’ve seen.

“My name’s Hange Zoe! I live a house over and I work as a detective with Erwin and Levi! I’m specifically in charge of experiments and research!” You took her hand to shake, a small smile lifting on your lips. Her hand was larger than your own and had a strong shake to it too. “You must be (y/n), the new roommate they were telling me about!” You nodded, a faded blush on the top of your skin. You never thought they would talk about you at work, you were just a roommate. “If ya ever need anything these guys can’t do, give me a call!” Hange seemed pretty sweet when she wasn’t yelling.

“Thanks Hange,” you said. Hange then turned back towards the table, taking a piece of the lemon chicken strip on a plate for herself. It impressed you how quickly she made herself at home.

“Well, unfortunately we can only investigate so much until we can get more information from the victims,” Erwin sighed as he sat back down, fingers interlocked with each other. “But if both victim and officer are in critical condition, it can go either way.”

“And the damn doctors won’t let us in to ask anything until they’re dead or surviving,” Levi grumbled, finishing his chilled tea. Hange nodded vigorously.

“All we can do for now, is investigate the scene of the crime. It’s been crossed off for now, but we only have tomorrow to scout the area,” she said calmly, taking a bite of the food after their words. You sat at this table completely miffed by what was being spoken about. You were they were all detectives for the private company, Scouts, but this sounded serious and it made you sweat a little inside. Erwin must’ve picked up on your nervousness.

“Don’t worry about it (y/n)” he assured, resting a hand on your shoulder giving a light rub. “He doesn’t attack just anyone, you’re new to town so you’re safe. And no matter what you have the three of us here too.” His words were so comforting, you nodded in appreciation. “Why don’t you go get some rest, the three of us have more to discuss and you don’t need to hear more.” There was a part of you that wanted to stay, as scared as you were, you wanted to hear it. But Erwin didn’t give you the option. His words, his body language, it all told you to leave the room. You stood from the table, reached to collect the empty dishes before Levi lightly swatted your hand away. Your eyes locked with his for a moment, the exact same language was silently being stated like it did from Erwin. You let your head fall slightly and made your way to your room. None of them spoke until they heard the click of your door.

“You boys could be a little nicer, ya know,” Hange said while chewing on some bites of chicken. Levi grimaced at her action, demanding she speak only after she swallows.

“She doesn’t need to concern herself with this information, it’s a bit much for a new girl in town to hear.” Erwin said softly.

“We’re getting too close to Deadly Devour anyways. If any of us become a target, that increases her chances of becoming one too,” Levi added. Both men agreed before you moved in that this was a case too dangerous to let you get close too. Hange agreed, but whined that they didn’t have to be so cold to such a hot young lady like yourself.

You laid on your bed in your room. You had taken a nice hot shower and dressed yourself in your comfortable pajamas and bathrobe. The light in your room was naturally dimming as the sunset set farther down the globe. It felt a little hard to be calm. Hange just barged in with this ‘Deadly Devour’ guy making moves, trying to kill people. How was he going about it? What was his next target or where? Were Erwin and Levi in real danger too? What about Hange? Erwin consoled that you wouldn’t be a target for such an event, but it’s still scary to think about. You rolled around on your sheets, flipping side to side before filling curling up in a ball, squeezing your blanket into your face. This town was wonderful so far…you don’t want anything to ruin this one. You weren’t sure when your brain finally took a pause and allowed you to pass out.

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***I am a visual aid person so writing stories I either make a map or borrow one. This is to help any readers like me who do better with visual aids! :)

For reference, their house similar to this Only diff is all 3 bedroom sizes, bathrooms and closes are the same size on the left of the house and that extra space where the master bathroom is, is a larger study room. ***I do not own pic/design, simply using it as a layout reference. Credit goes to proper owners.