#I’ll try not to be too late for the next one

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things : chapter seven

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in the first two chapters, sorry gang :

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Wednesday starts with a phone call. You're fresh out of the shower when the screen on your phone starts flashing. In a scramble, you knock over almost everything in your tub to grab it in time.

“Hello-- is everything okay?”  You wedge the phone into the crook of your shoulder and pinch the towel with your free hand. 

“Hey, it's ya boy.” Denki's voice crackles with sleep and your panic resides immediately. “Do you wanna ride to work? I’m in your apartment complex.”

“What? Don't you live on campus?”

“Mm, I was staying with a friend. ” The muffled trill of a giggle bounces behind him, high and unfamiliar. “I’ll be over in fifteen-ish. I fly, you buy coffee, ‘kay?”

He hangs up without a real goodbye, the line practically going dead mid-syllable. It is not the strangest call you've ever gotten from Denki, but it’s up there. No matter; you're thankful for the ride this morning. Summer is starting to eat the city alive and you're happy to not have to deal with the stink tube that is the train. You do have to scramble to get ready in time, scooping up clothes from your laundry basket and throwing an outfit together without much thought.

An hour later, Denki's beater rolls up outside your door. You try not to look at the clock as you hurry over to the red monstrosity and kick some cans out of the way to get to your seat. Denki just nods to you as you get in; you ignore how sticky the pleather is. In yesterday’s clothes and a sheen of sweat, Denki is somehow more ruffled than he is every other day-- complete with an obscene amount of  blossoming purple hickies down the side of his neck. 

“Jeez, did you lose a fight or something?”

“Oh, oohhh,” he chuckles, throwing an arm over the back of your chair. He smells like sex-- and not in a good way. It’s sour like an onion. “I let her win.”

You push his arm back and groan. “Ew.”

“Oh, don’t be jealous.”

You point to his radio clock- it’s almost nine already. “Kaminari, drive! We’re going to be so late.”

He starts rolling, one hand barely on the wheel. “Oh, you’re so jealous that I’m getting laid and you aren’t.”

No, you’re annoyed that every man that shows you interest sexually turns out to BE a raging cock instead of GIVING you any. 

“You don’t know that I’m not getting laid.”

“People getting dick don’t make that face.” He leans over and pokes your cheek. “That face, right there. I don’t make that face-”

“Watch the road!”

He almost crashes two more times before you guys pull into the parking lot. 9:02. You’re shaken and a bit nauseated, but Denki’s made you laugh enough that you’ve already forgiven him. 

“We’re so late!” You scurry from the vehicle before he’s shut off the engine.

Kaminari cracks open another silver can of energy drink as he slowly peels himself from the seat. “No, we aren’t. Look! Aizawa just got here too.”

You glance up with the same tact as a deer in headlights. Parked right behind you is a very familiar sports car, your favorite blonde and your least favorite coworker standing right beside it. Both men are staring directly at you with very contrasting expressions: Hizashi excited, Aizawa enraged. The shorter man yanks on his hoodie strings, closing his hood comically tight around his head, and grumbles something to his friend. Hizashi nods enthusiastically. You sometimes forget they are long time friends, but you can see it in the way they subconsciously mimic each other’s movements. Their hair is even tied up in similar ways; Hizashi’s pin straight hair knotted beautifully into a bun, Aizawa’s jammed into a messy, almost bun shape, both sitting on the backs of their necks. It’s definitely a coincidence, but the thought of them doing this intentionally makes you crack a smile.

Aizawa immediately ducks his gaze after that and your stomach twists at the reminder of victory. A giggle bubbles up in your throat, but you manage to swallow it back down; he’s still bothered. Good. They’ve parked right behind you, close enough that none of you can pretend they didn’t see the other, but he’s certainly trying. 

“Hizashi!” you coo loudly, much more ostentatious than you usually are. “How’s my husband?

“Oh, babygirl!” Mic throws his arms wide and blows your way in that airy, graceful way only he can manage. “You look--” His face falls to a grimace as Kaminari steps closer. “Oh, jeez, kid.”

Kaminari doesn’t even try to hide his hickeys. They’re getting darker, you swear.  “Did you get into a fight with a vacuum cleaner?”

The younger man just rubs the back of his neck. “Haha, you know how it is.”

“I do.” Hizashi juts his tongue into his cheek. “But also, I don't. At all. This is excessive.”

 Aizawa scoffs. His head is turned away from you, fixed on a point in the distance. He pulls his little black backpack over his shoulder and trudges towards the door.

“Button your collar before you enter the building or else I’m sending you home.” “You look awful.”

Kaminari blurts out an agreement, then turns back to you two. “What's gotten into his ass lately?”

You shoot him a knowing look. “He’s always like this.”

“No, it's worse lately!”

“I agree,” Hizashi chimes in. “ Shouta's been…”

“A bitch.”

“Kaminari!”

“No, he's right.” The tall man sighs. “I'm not sure what his issue is. He's probably stressed about the conference presentations.”

“Oh. Shit.” The UA Conference and Expo is actually a very big deal, not just for the company, but for the biomedical field in general, which is why it's so surprising that you completely forgot about it. It's part expo hall, part continuing education panel, and part research debuts. Hundreds of people flock to the city to see the newest models and equipment on display, including potential customers. In past years, Hizashi headed the sales floor, Aizawa presented research, and Yagi did everything else. 

This year, everything else falls on you. 

For a while, you were looking forward to the event; despite its prestidge, it’s actually a rather low maintenance trip for you. Shake some hands, share some business cards, apologize for Yagi’s absence and commiserate over missing him. It’s a glorified vacation to the city center--

Despite Aizawa.

 “Is that coming up?” You try to remember the dates.

“Next week!” Hizashi laughs. “Girl, you booked the hotel rooms.”

“I know I just--” Hopefully this cold front lasts into next week; the whole conference will be easier if Aizawa gives you distance. “Time got away from me, I guess.” 

“Happens when you get old.” Kaminari winks at you and you frown back.

“I’m just kidding! You’re so sensitive for your age.”

Hizashi struts over to you, his perfect smile a bit strained as he speaks. “Baby girl, give me a hug.” 

It’s strange, but you throw yourself into his arms anyway and Hizashi squeezes you tight, even lifting you off of your feet a little with the force. He’s dipping in to directly speak into your ear, speaking through his teeth:

“Are you the one who sucked on this guy’s neck?”

You balk. How could anyone think you’re fucking Kaminari? 

“Oh, no, he’s fucking someone in my apartment complex,” you whisper back. 

“Oh, thank god.” Hizashi’s touch relaxes. Shit-- there’s not any trust there, huh? You can’t blame him; you do have a track record. You two break away and you adjust your clothes. Of course, you managed to pick the most wrinkled shirt in your closet. 

“How’s the situation at home?”

Oh, great. You must look homeless.

“Oh, uh, good. I think,” you shrug. “Ordered some new lamps and stuff last night and now my bank account is aching.”

Kaminari looks surprised; you try not to discuss finances in front of the interns. It’s embarrassing, frankly, to be struggling at your big age. 

“You know we’d be happy to help you out however--” Hizashi continues. “There’s still that extra room in our house. Save up some rent money for a bit and live with us.”

“I would never ask you guys to do that.”

Your stomach cramps at the thought of asking anyone for help. You aren’t destitute, but… 

“Sales is always hiring. You’d make a lot more than you currently do.” Hizashi must see the discomfort on your face.  “We’re actually expanding, so if you want to more to Wichita-”

“If you move to Wichita, I’m killing myself.” Kaminari sags with performed misery. “Where even is Wichita?”

“Kaminari, you aren’t even in a permanent position.” The interns rarely transition into full time employees after graduation. “You’ll be gone before I am.”

“Don’t blame me for going to college!”

“I also went to college.”

“What?” Both men seem confused. “For what?”

“Neuroscience.”

“What the fuck at you doing here?” Kaminari gasps. “Go cure cancer or something.”

“Really though, think about the sales position.” Hizashi gets you back on track.  “We have positions that are not in Kansas too.”

“Don’t chase her away!”

“I would never! But a change of scenery might do her well. I love my work wife enough to set her free.”

“Again, Denki. You’re only going to be here for a couple more months.” You start towards the door. “Less time if you don’t cover your hickey!”

The three of you head inside, both you and Hizashi tugging on Denki’s collar to try and hide the bruises. It’s a fool’s errand; there’s a grape sized mark right under his ear, completely unhidable. Hizashi goes his own way after a bit and the two of you head down towards your desk. It’s so much later than usual; hopefully someone else made coffee this morning, or else there’s going to be some grumpy people-

When you turn the corner, there’s no table. No table, no machine, nothing. Only the scuffs on the floor from where the legs once were.  

You turn back around the corner and then come back. No, it’s still not there. Kaminari watches you like you’re going insane.

“Where's the coffee machine?” 

He shrugs at you, not stopping. “I dunno, man. Ask Pinky.”

Ochako looks more flustered than usual, her pink cheeks burned red as she passes her coworker in the hallway. Her arms are filled with files; crunch time is running everyone ragged. Launch of the second model is expected to be in less than three months and there’s an almost impossible amount of work to be done. 

“The  coffee- Oh, um. It was moved to engineering.”

You stare at her and try to rationalize this. “Why?”

“Mr. Aizawa said to.” She smiles, apologetic, like she knows something you don’t. She probably does, but you can’t seem to care. 

“Well.” you toss your things on to your desk. “I'm going to go talk to him.”

Ochako goes a bit pale at that. “Be careful, he’s really-”

You’re already halfway down the hall.

--

For once, engineering is booming and alive. Most of the senior partners work from home, but there seems to be something that brought most of them in today. It’s almost unsettling to see so many people working; it makes this place feel full. A couple of familiar faces look your way as you stride in, past the tinkering and typing, and go all the way to the back. Sure enough, there sits the ever so familiar coffee table, the machine percolating softly where it sits right outside Aizawa’s office door.  

Oh. This. This is the real declaration of war.

It’s so believably petty and childish that it completely boggles your mind. There’s no reason to touch it! No reason to change anything! What is it about men coming into your life and moving your fucking furniture?

Aizawa’s door is closed. You don’t knock. Throwing open the door, the man himself sits behind his monitors, only the very top of his head visible. His grays glitter under the fluorescent lights and you get some sick pleasure out of knowing he’s aging, that he’s old and alone and-

 Aizawa raises a brow. “Do you mind?”

Shit, you’ve been quiet this whole time. You stammer wildly and point to the desk like a petulant child. 

“D-did you move this?”

Aizawa doesn’t look up from his work. He types so quickly that you fear he must be making a litany of typos. “I’m busy.”

This time, you steel yourself before you talk.

“Did you move the coffee machine?” you press, stepping further into his office. You can see him clearer now; the man leans far back into his chair, the plastic creaking in protest, and sighs. He closes his eyes for one beat, two beats, three beats-- you almost think you’ve broken him. Finally, he grants you the decency of eye contact, glancing up over his glasses’ rim. 

“I did.”

“Well,” you flounder for a second. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I can.”

Not the answer you were looking for. You point with your open hand again, huffing even louder. You’re aware that everyone behind you is a lot quieter now, most of the typing subsided. One of the other engineers, Vlad, is just staring at you through the glass paneling; you can see him from the corner of your eye, trying to mind his own business and failing. You’re being too loud, but you can’t make yourself any softer right now.

“Move it back.” 

“No.” Lips pulled taut in disappointment, Aizawa gives you a heady sigh, like a father scolding a child.  He pulls the sleeve to his sweatshirt taut over his hand and uses the fabric to clean loose drops of coffee from the rim of his thermos. Disgusting brown spots dot the neon yellow sleeve. “The world doesn’t cave to your wants.”

Fury burns your cheeks.This isn’t the place to make a scene. Not in front of an entire department. You can feel your hands quivering with pure anger as you turn on your heel and try to regulate your breathing- 

“I'm sure that pouting act worked on your junky boyfriend, but it doesn't work here.” 

He says it under his breath, but clear enough that, in front of you, Izuku sits straight up and sucks air in through his teeth in abject horror. 

Touya's drug problem is the loudest secret in your life. You deny it as much as possible, but everyone knows the truth. It's what's ruining him-- ruining you by extension.

Oh, fuck it. 

Fuck it!

You’re going to make a fucking scene.

You wheel back around so fast that your hair hits you in the face, but it does nothing to slow you down. “You’re a fucking jerk.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows quirk up in genuine surprise. You aren’t one to curse in the office. “Want to repeat that?”

Yes, actually, you do. You stomp in, fists balled as you bump against his desk just hard enough to slosh his overly full thermos.  Leaning over the monitors, you get as close as you can before continuing.

  “I said that you’re a mo-ther-fuc-king jerk.” You hit every syllable as hard as you can.

Aizawa stands now too, leaning on his hands. His face is inches from yours, so close that you can smell the touch of coffee and mint on his breath. He’s clean shaven today, no little whisker to hide his frown lines and sunken cheeks. Bits of speckled melanin -sun damage and scars- litter his skin, a sea of tiny imperfections under the jagged, brutal cut across his cheek bone. That healed skin goes taut when he starts to boom.

“Do you want to know why I really moved it?” Aizawa spits. His nearly black eyes bore into yours, unblinking, unrelenting  “I don't want to see you. I don't want to ever hear your voice. I don’t want to smell your perfume. I don’t even want to be in your vicinity.” 

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you aren't sad-- you're boiling, so impossibly angry and hurt that you can’t find the words or logic for it.

  “You are-” Your throat is tight with emotion and you have to fight through it to stay sounding angry. “The most rude, selfish, insufferable-” 

“I'm insufferable? Me?” He leans back and guffaws a clearly fake sound. “You are the most weak willed, soft-”

 “You're just an asshole!” you shout. “A huge fucking asshole that everyone hates!”

“Hey, uh.”  

You both snap around to see Izuku, awkwardly standing in the doorway. He stands uber straight, arms tucked tight to his side and chin in the air. He opens his mouth to speak. “I-”

“Does it look like I want you to interrupt?” Aizawa doesnt let the boy breathe. “Do we not look busy?

Izuku goes wide eyed and you wheel back around. The motion nearly knocks over both of Aizawa's monitors. “Don't yell at him!”

“He's not seven, he doesn't need the princess defending him.”

“Call me princess one more time.”

“Tell me how to run my department one more time.” 

“I should! You’re an awful boss and everyone hates you, you fucking cunt-”

“Both of you.”  When you turn back around, Vlad is there now, grim faced. He's a massive man -a power lifter in his free time- with gray hair and a downturned mouth. His shoulders practically dwarf the doorway. The way he looms steals the air from your lungs; you shrink back and shut your mouth. 

It apparently has the same effect on Aizawa; he's in charge of Vlad, but his presence seems to mellow the smaller man out. He groans and flops back down to his chair and waves his hand vaguely in the air. 

“Coffee machine stays. You go. Goodbye.” 

You don't move. 

“Goodbye.” Aizawa waits a moment, then repeats it. “Goodbye.”

You look between him and Vlad. The big man nods and steps out of the way, silently encouraging your exit. It's a loss-- and an embarrassing one at that. It takes effort to keep your chin up as you leave.

“Oh, and tell Kaminari that he reeks,” Aizawa shouts after you. 

You storm down the hall, past the curious faces. You’re trying to stay angry, but it’s fizzling out into embarrassment fairly quickly.

“Kaminari,” you say, a bit louder than you should. “You smell.”

The blonde’s jaw drops. “Dude, I drove you here! Why am I catching strays?”

--

Someone from HR checks in with you later that day, with her placid smile and worried brow. You’re given a slap on the wrist for calling someone an asshole, but the meeting is mostly focused on if you're alright and comfortable. As much as you hate the guy, you don't want him to lose his job; you insist that things are fine, but you open up a job browsing site as soon as she’s gone. 

Yagi would forgive you for leaving-- fuck, he'd probably applaud you.  You start googling Wichita.

Aizawa is sent home midday. You just watch the back of his awful yellow sweatshirt as he stomps out the door. You resist the urge to flip him off behind his back.

Later that night, when you’re cooled down and tucked into bed, Hizashi texts you.

-I heard what happened.

-Can you guys hold it together for the con?

-I’d really hate it if you killed each other in my car.

You don’t respond because you don’t know the answer.

You google Wichita again.

[cottonlemonade]

First off CONGRATULATIONSSS omg youre stories are so good and you deserve it(btw you're request system is sooo creative I love it.)

And Can I order a cup of milk with a matcha roll off of menu A or B please? And can I sit next to bokuto!

Tutoring Him

word count: 589 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: Bokuto x implied chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, tutoring crush Bokuto

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Bokuto slumped over onto the open book and groaned. He was tired of studying before it even started. Why did he have to hit the books when he could be practicing his spikes right now?

“I see you’re trying out the osmosis technique of studying?”

He shot up, a loose page from his notebook stuck to his forehead.

“Y/n-chan!”, he said in surprise.

“Akaashi-kun asked me to step in for him today. He had an errand to run.”

Bokuto made a mental note to buy his friend an armload of new manga. His chest felt all bubbly when you sat down across from him in the empty classroom.

“So.”, you began and with a cool flick of your wrist opened your textbook to a diagram of cell anatomy, “Let’s start with the basics of the cell structure. What do you know about the nucleus?”

“It’s… in the middle?”

You looked at the picture. “I mean… you’re not wrong.”, you said fairly, then moved your finger a little pointing to something else, “What about cytoplasm?”

“It’s the stuff that keeps everything in place?”

“Hm… again, not… entirely wrong, I guess, but I’m sensing a pattern.”, you laughed and the sound made Bokuto’s heart flutter.

“Alright, one more try. What about the mitochondria?”

Oh, this one he knew!

“It’s the powerhouse of the cell!”, he exclaimed excitedly but his face got a little more color when he saw your frown, “That one has to be right, though. Kuroo taught me!”

“So uhm, I don’t know who this Kuroo is but I think you should spend some time apart. At least until after the exams.” You patted his shoulder.

Next, you had him open his notes for an exercise and were impressed and terrified how he managed to even read them between all the doodles. Most revolved around volleyball of course, some were just random swirls or shapes. When he got to the pages about genetics however, he confidently turned his folder towards you so you could check if his notes were correct before starting to work but a moment later he practically threw himself over the pages to cover them.

Although, too late. You had already seen the elaborately decorated heart next to the table of Mendel’s law with yours and his name. It was even colored.

“Uhm, Bokuto-san?”

“No?”, he mumbled feebly as his hair seemed to deflate.

“Do you… are you- I mean… do you like me?”

“I wouldn’t call it like…”

“Oh?”

“More like… super crazy in love?”

“Oh!”

When he looked up and saw you blush, his confidence returned immediately.

“Do you like me, too? - Argh, I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to win the next tournament and confess to you with the medal and- but if you like me, too, please let me be your boyfriend, y/n-chan!”

You were so perplexed that the only thing you could say was, “Are you sure?”

He nodded vehemently, practically hovering out of his seat in anticipation of your reply.

“Yes, Bokuto-san, I’d love that.”

He jumped up and cheered, feeling as if he’d just won a championship. Next thing you knew he lifted you out of the chair and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, your feet dangling off the ground.

“Oh my gosh, Bokuto, put me down before you hurt yourself!”, you squeaked but he only squished you further, melting into the softness of your body. “Not yet.”, he mumbled into the crook of your neck, “I’ll be the best boyfriend, you’ll see!”

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a/n: and he was, in fact, the best boyfriend turned husband. I love him so much! Thank you for the cute request and your kind words 🫶🏻 I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

[jieunoclock]

Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter four

- Handling It₊˚⊹♡

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down. “How do you know? He doesn't turn into Dad. How do you know he won't lay an unwanted hand on you,"

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 7.3k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes, mentions of abuse and past SA⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

Time passes quickly at Jungkook’s place, or maybe just with Jungkook. It’s so effortless that sometimes I wish everything would go so smoothly.

It’s probably one of the only moments in my week that I feel properly comfortable. And it’s an awful shame that, that comfort has to come to an end. Before Yoongi goes all crazy mode again.

“Noooo I don’t wanna go,” I’m in this mood, where I just want to do nothing and where there’s just a small sadness settles within my chest, it makes me clingy. Only around the right people, if I were to be around Yoongi right now I’d probably be pissed off getting yelled at.

And how much I hate it, every good has to come to an end. And after The Titanic, some lazy monopoly game -that I won- so does this night.

By the time we spent 3 hours and 16 minutes watching The Titanic, I still hadn’t cheered up. So we moved to plan B, choosing a movie that’s not on the “classics” list. I picked one of my favourite animated movies, ‘I Want To Eat Your Pancreas’. Needless to say, it didn’t make it through the movie with dry cheeks.

And neither did Jungkook. I saw he was trying to act tough, but I caught him blinking a tear away.

He hadn’t watched it yet, it was a movie from my favourites list I’d been dying to watch with him. It always hits a soft spot.

“You gotta go, Bun,” It’s awful how he’s right. If I don’t go home now I’ll get in trouble, again. Going to the gym is more fun than going home, and I seriously hate the gym. "Uhg you want me gone so bad," I'm sprawled out on his carpet nearly dragging him down with me, as he tries to drag me inches closer to his front door, holding me by my wrists.

"Yes, leave," He drops my wrists back to the ground, really I could just stay on the ground here if it meant I didn't have to go home. though I have to give in before it gets too late. With a huge sigh, I get up to my feet grab his hoodie from the couch, and take it with me.

"Later Koo," I give him a high five, dragging one foot in front of the other as I get to the front door.

It is quiet out, there's a cold chill that settled inside Jungkook's stairwell. Pressing the down button on the elevator.

My earphones are completely tangled, I should probably save up for some AirPods. I've borrowed Jia's AirPods before and I basically fell in love with them ever since. With music now settling in my ears, I step inside the elevator.

It's awfully quiet out on the road. It's one of those nights where you feel like others can just feel the sadness radiating from you, even though you're not even sad. You just have this strong load of nothingness, sure it might have a little depressed hint to it, and sure I feel like if I missed my bus right now, I'd break down crying.

But luckily I don't, It's perfectly timed actually. right as I step out of Jungkook's building, my bus appears around the corner. Not paying attention to anyone that's around me, there's exactly one person who highlights the place. Just after I checked in and turned to the bus aisle to get seated, Taehyung is sat there, right at the end of the bus.

I debate for a second if I should sit next to him or not, but the moment he makes eye contact with me it just feels weird not to. I shoot him a small tight-lipped smile whilst making my way over to the seat next to him.

"Hey," I tell him as he waves a little at me, giving me one of his gorgeous smiles. "What are you doing here? I've never seen you take this bus before," I try to sound the most genuine not to be rude, I mean I am genuine. I've seriously never seen him on this bus before, and I take this bus a lot. It's the only bus that goes from the city to the suburbs, Or the only one that goes from Jungkook's apartment To mine.

"Oh well, you know... There's this awesome girl that just has been ignoring me for two days now, I was going to check up on her," He tells me, and then I'm sat there thinking I had a chance with him. But then he gives me this look, eyebrows raised, eyes slightly in a pouty look. is he talking about me? I mean, I haven't used my phone since my fight with Yoongi, so that includes not responding to him.

I point at myself with raised eyebrows, nonverbally asking if he was going to my place. Which he responds to with a small smile followed by a nod of his head, confirming my assumptions.

"Ah well, my phone got partially smashed and, I swear it’s getting worse by the hour... I haven't charged it since, sorry," I apologize. "How'd you even find out where I live anyway?" None of my friends have ever been to my home, Jungkook's first time was today. Taehyung doesn't know Yoongi so it couldn't have been him either... But my thoughts are cut off by his response "Oh! my brother's dating Ashley,"

of course, I know Ashley, she's been to my house plenty of times... I think. I don't know, She's a really good friend of Yoongi's. They've known each other for as long as I've existed. Even after all the years they've been friends, I haven't really gotten to know her. She comes by sometimes, so I only see a glimpse of her. The past couple of years have been pretty quiet, though I see her texts sometimes and I see her Instagram stories.

Though whenever I have women's problems, where Yoongi doesn’t know what to do. Hell call her up and ask her for advice, or to come by and handle the situation.

This one time I thought I was having my first period and I just needed pads, he called Ashley to get some and explain to me how they work.

Then this other time my boobs first started coming through and I needed to go bra shopping. Yoongi and I made it to the store but the second he saw a bra, he magically turned into Ashley. Yoongi was nowhere to be found unit later that evening, with a cake to celebrate the birth of my boobs. Yeah, I wish I was lying.

There settles an awkward silence between me and Taehyung, it's late in the evening so we're the only two on the bus besides the driver. the drive doesn't take long, it's about 12 minutes from point A to B.

It's by the time we hit the start of the suburbs that a thought pops into my head. All scenarios flash through my brain if I had stayed home today. Taehyung probably would've stumbled upon Yoongi, I don't want to know how things would've ended then. I know it would be bad but...

I shouldn’t be worrying about this, I don’t forbid him from seeing girls. Ignored their existence even, not that there ever were many girls at the apartment. I’m too scared to even let people in, too bothered by a stupid reputation nobody cares about.

I don’t care if he’s banged some girl he doesn’t know, I don’t care if he’s going to propose to someone next week. Okay well, that’s a stretch. The point is, it doesn’t matter to me what he’s doing with who and where, neither should he.

Now it's only two stops away from my destination and I'm freaking out. "Uhm Taehyung, I really don't mean to be rude but.. you have to get off," which obviously leaves him confused, I’d be too if this random person from school told me to ‘get off’ for no valid given reason.

"What? Why? It's late I thought I'd walk you home," Gosh, bless him and his sweet heart.

"Although I'd seriously love for you to walk me home, Yoongi is going to kill the both of us if he sees us together, so please do me a favour and get off. I promise I'll make it up to you," I plead. He must see how panicked I look, cause his expression softens and he gives in whilst I apologize to him profusely.

He waves it off as an 'I'ts fine' and then goes to stand outside, watching the bus pass by leaving him behind.

I shoot him one last apologetic smile, gosh I feel guilty. The first thing I’ll do when I get home is text him because this is just a shitty thing to do without a proper explanation. He doesn't know Yoongi, he doesn't know how the situation sits, I hope he'll be understanding.

With a big sigh, I try to relieve the stress off of my shoulders, I spot someone in the corner of my eye that looks all too familiar. Walking on the sidewalk past the next bus stop that the bus reaches. I'm so glad I pushed Taehyung off of the bus cause, speaking of the devil, Yoongi is walking home. I quickly press the stop button and run off the bus trying my best to catch up to Yoongi.

"Heyy Yoongelss!," I sound totally fine, not suspicious at all. I probably sound mostly out of breath, from the run over here.

I can see him raise on eyebrow squinting his eyes a little at me. "where have you been!!," I try my best to show my interest in him, getting all spotlights to go his way.

"Uhm, I just got back from Seokjin and Namjoon’s place," he explains. Seokjin and Namjoon are his friends from college. Aside from Ashley, I was confused to see he actually has friends.

Ashley was our childhood neighbour, she's always just been here. Not a moment has she ever bothered me. But his other friends? They're dicks. I've only met them very few times, They always make fun of my being Yoongi's little sister, with emphasis on little. It’s unfair really! I’m not even that tiny, they’re just freakishly tall. I'm sure they're nice once you get to know them.

"You hungry?" With all the fights between us these past few days, I feel like we need some quality time. "Sure let's go," He takes the turn towards our street, which has a convenience store on the corner.

Both getting ourselves some noodles and a drink, coincidentally both having the exact same order as we meet at the tables. Yoongi sitting opposite me, he's quiet.. he isn't much of a talker anyway, we both enjoy our quiet times. but I came here to talk so...

"Yoongi, I'm sorry if I disappointed you..," Deep down I know I didn't do anything wrong, he's the one who got mad in the first place. All I ever do is care, mentally and physically. I care so much for him, all I ever do is for his convenience.

"No, I should apologize," Is he, serious? I don't think I've ever heard him apologize before, even if he should've, he finds it difficult to admit his faults. "I shouldn't have been so harsh on you.." he starts. "It's just.." He sighs deeply, he is having a hard time saying whatever he's about to. It must've been bothering him a lot.

"Nayun.. Before you were born, Dad was living at home like.. consistently. And he wasn’t as bad as a father as what you know him as. When you think of Dad you just think of this abusive asshole who left us and probably some really traumatic things. When I think of Dad… I see my Dad, the guy who used to play basketball with me, take me to school, and read me stories to bed until mom got pregnant with a girl... and when I see you with guys, all I can see is what dad turned into and how these guys could too,"

Wow, he's never opened up this much. I never knew Dad wasn’t like that before I was born, I guess it explains a lot. But still, this doesn’t justify the way he’s been acting, for like ever.

I don’t really know what I should do with this information, I don’t know if I’m better off knowing it or not. All these years Dad was just like that because he was Dad, and now I feel responsible for it. I’m not the only one who suffered from his abuse, Yoongi did too. If I wasn’t born, maybe Yoongi would’ve had a proper dad.

But then also, why did Dad didn’t like me? Why does he resent me? He couldn’t just pretend I was a guy, yes sure it would’ve fucked me up in different ways, but I think I prefer that over the things he’s done instead.

Instead, I wound up with an evil baggage of daddy issues, the version that includes the sexualized version.

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down at my noodles, chopsticks ready to grab some. Instead, I bite down on my lip and pick at the separate strings of noodles, suddenly my appetite has completely gone out the window.

I was ready to sit down with Yoongi and have a heartfelt conversation, make up even. It’s every time that Dad gets mentioned, it runs my mood entirely. I hate that man from the bottom of my heart. I hate him so much, each time he leaves I hope he’ll never come back. It even gets so fucked up that sometimes I dream of police coming by the house, telling us the ‘bad news’ of him being in an accident. And I hate that I still care so much, I still love him deep down.

“How do you know?.. huh? How do you know that this guy that you’ve been seeing that's just oh-so-perfect. Doesn’t just turn his back on you and turns into Dad,” His voice raises.

“How do you know that one day you won’t end up with a guy that hits you every day uses you for his needs, and doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings on it,”

“How do you know he won’t just go at it without checking up on you asking you for a fucking green light knows when to keep his hands at home,”

It’s a chapter I put past me a while ago. It wasn’t even a heavily reoccurring event anyway, I’ve moved on that’s the point. Yoongi and I both went through tough stuff with him, I know he wants to protect me. But all I really need from him is love and support. To get through everything together, but I’m afraid that’ll never go through to him.

“You know how much it hurts me? Looking at you? All I can think of are the sounds from your room and I couldn't do anything, you didn't do anything,” He sounds angry in a way, it’s not said softly or calm, he doesn’t take his time saying what he said no it’s rushed. His words poke right through me, it hurts. How does he think he can just say that, he's being so unreasonable.

And there goes my entire appetite, in with the tears. Great... I don’t like crying like this in front of Yoongi. It’s okay when he’s yelling at me, or smashing things around me, being in a fit of rage. Not when he’s being honest, emotional, and nonviolent. I can’t say his voice gets the memo too.

Yoongi hadn’t bothered keeping his voice on a socially acceptable level, I could see the cashier looking at me with a funny expression that told me he was assuming way too many things from this conversation alone.

What makes it worse is that he doesn’t know how to act, he just sits there staring at his noodles looking all stupid. I don’t want to cry but the tears just keep coming, I don’t make a single sound. I must look stupid along with him, swallowing my tears back as much as possible. But it’s hard, there are far too many to swallow back, frantically wiping away my tears with the sleeve of Jungkook’s hoodie.

I want to get out of here, I just feel out of place. But I just can’t go running to Jungkook every time something bad happens. He shouldn’t be the one who cheers me up and he shouldn’t be the one who has to sit with my feelings.

But he’s also always been there for me, still after everything he tells me he’ll be there for me whenever. So you can call me selfish for this but, I’m going to take his word for it and go over to his place. It’s either that or go home and after this conversation that’s the last thing I want to do.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff back my tears, stabilizing my voice as much as I can. “You can have mine,” I push my bowl of ramen towards him, getting up from my seat and practically barging out of the convenience store.

He looks dumbfounded as I pass by the window he’s sitting at, and he just continues eating his stupid noodles. I try my best not to cry during the bus ride but it somehow just feels so much longer than usual.

After what feels like an eternity, I just stand there, in front of his apartment complex. Trying to muster up the courage to knock on his door.

I’ve calmed down a little, I’m not crying anymore. Though my mind seems to be racing at 100 miles an hour, I’m never this hesitant to go up to Jungkook’s apartment. So whenever I do, it’s a cry for help -to myself that is-. It makes me nervous, cause I feel like a bother to him. He’s made me sure I’m not, so I set it aside the best I can and knock.

There’s a long moment of silence after I knock on his door, is he home? My phone is dead so I won’t be able to text or call him and I don’t have a spare key either so.. oh my god what if he’s in there with someone? Maybe he’s just asleep I mean it is pretty late.

Suddenly everything I’ve set aside comes rushing back to me almost twice as hard as it did before. I panic, I shake my head at the thought of me standing here as if I’m not literally in that situation right now. I really need to get out of here.

In a fit of confusion and regret, I barge back to the elevator, pressing its button which definitely takes longer than usual to work.

But then finally the doors open, ready to step inside eyes glued to the ground.

“Nayun?,” It's a male voice, familiar even, but it's not Jungkook’s or Yoongi’s. And Yoongi is quick off the list cause, he wouldn’t be confused about me being here and I would’ve just known if it were him. I quickly look up from the ground to identify whoever’s speaking to me.

Suddenly my panicked thoughts, have turned into a panic attack. I take a step back, breathing getting more difficult than usual. It’s as if talking about him, has summoned the devil. I can’t think straight anymore, the world suddenly spinning around me. Everything had been feeling like an eternity, but this moment right here is something I’ve never in my life witnessed before.

Not a moment where he walked inside of the living room that had me this shocked, not a moment where there was cash left on the table with a note to another disappointment that he was gone for a weekend that left me this devastated.

What is he even doing here? He has no use in a neighbourhood like this, it’s not the way he works like he’d always tell me. That even though we live in a dump, always shitting at how disgusting we live and never taking action to make the situation better.

“D-Dad? What are you doing here?..” I stutter, barely being able to form proper sentences. My mind is blank for a second, time pauses and all I can think about is him, quickly followed by how disgusting he is and how he still walks around freely and everything just crashes down on me. There’s so much happening at once, I just feel helpless at this point.

He’s about to take another step forward until he’s cut off, making him step back staying put in the elevator.

“Yun, I found it. You don’t have to buy new ones let’s go” a voice says from my left. I look at where the voice is coming from, registering his features. It’s Taehyung again jumping out from behind the corner, right beside the elevator. He doesn’t see my father, nor does he see Taehyung.

There are so many questions going on inside of my mind, but I don’t have any time to act on them. Telling Taehyung it’s ‘great’ even though there’s nothing about today that is ‘great’ before I walk with him not thinking twice about whether I should tell my Dad goodbye or not. Or even hear him out.

I follow Taehyung up one more floor, into his apartment. Quite literally shaking from what just happened, and he tried to take care of me so well. He sits me down on his couch, takes my shoes off, and gets me a glass of water. Tells me to breathe in and out, tells me everything is going to be okay.

Something in me tells me he has done this before.

I could ask him one hundred questions right now, give him a thousand explanations, or freak out and run. But the first thing that comes out of my mouth is; “How did you know..?”

“I didn’t,”

“Let me explain,” he gestures for me to sit down on his couch.

He explained to me how he was walking up the stairwell and saw me walking through the hall, great time to have glass doors. He was going to call out for me until he heard me and my dad. Assuming the panic in my voice wasn’t something positive and felt like I just needed to get out of there.

“I hope it wasn’t the wrong move to make,” he asks looking somewhat apologetic, just in case.

“No, no you were great. I think with the bus and everything I owe you an explanation as well” I saw looking down at my hands fiddling with the hem of my sleeve.

I try to give him a light explanation, which is difficult since the story has so much to it. Sparing him the details of my childhood by just telling him he’s a very bad Dad, that I hadn’t seen for an entire year. That Jungkook lives downstairs and that, that’s why I was there in the first place.

“Oh and about the bus... You know Yoongi? Ashley’s friend?” I ask him, to which he nods in agreeance.

“Yeah well, that's the brother I was talking about, and.. we just had a big fight about how he doesn’t let me date and such,”

I can hear him sucking in his breath through his teeth at the mention of Yoongi being my brother, I guess his name has come across some time.

“I swear he can be really nice…” he chuckles at that, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

He walks over to his fridge holding up a Coke, looking at me with a questioning look to see if I want one as well, then hands it to me.

“So you live here?” I ask him.

“Ah no, my sister just moved here recently,” That makes sense, I’ve never seen him here before and I’ve been in the building plenty of times.

“She’s out for the weekend, I promised to watch her cat,”

My face immediately switches into a pouty face with big, big puppy eyes. “You have a cat? I love cats!”

He nods excitedly before he starts calling out pet names, making squeaky noises with his mouth to lure the cat to him.

He disappears into the hall for a second before his head peaks through the open doorway “Found her!” I immediately stand up walking towards him, into a bedroom.

I don’t see a cat at first, but upon better inspection, there’s a little tiny bump under the perfectly made-up duvet. I fold over the covers to reveal the cutest little cat I’ve ever seen. Okay well not the cutest, coco will always be no.1.

It’s a really small fluffy cat, she must still be a kitten. “What’s her name?” I ask between my awh’s and baby talks to the cat. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Bada, because of her eyes” I look back at the cat, she has have most crystal blue eyes, or, I guess ocean blue.

I lie down on the bed petting the cat's head before she rolls around exposing her belly, and stretching her little arms and legs out. I think I might melt from cuteness overload

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing,” I must sound so stupid, but it’s a cat! I can’t help it.

“Not to me she isn’t,” Taehyung says from behind me. “I’m taking you’re not a big cat person?”

Couldn’t be me. don’t get me wrong I like dogs, but you actually need to walk them and stuff. I like affectionate cats that are a little lazy, you can just cuddle with them and their playtime can be done from the couch.

“I actually own a dog, his name is Yeontan he’s like really cute and fluffy,” he tells me walking over to the edge of the bed with his phone out and showing me a picture of his dog.

I got to give it to him, he is cute.. most small dogs look like little rats but if they’re fluffy they’re a lot cuter.

“Okay, I guess he’s cute but.. over a cat?” I pick up Bada and hold her up next to my face, her arm right under my chin as I look at Taehyung with a pouty face.

Talking like a little kid “How could you have me?.. I don’t bite you’re just biased,” which makes him chuckle. He looks gorgeous, his laugh is so adorable and cute it instantly makes me smile along with him. Just looking at each other for a few seconds, smiling like two idiots.

“Uhm do you have a charger perhaps? I should probably bring my phone back from the dead,” I ask breaking our little stare-down. Which leads us back to the living room.

He searches for a charger because it’s not his house, it gives me a moment to inspect the room a little bit. I see a picture of Taehyung and what I assume must be his sister, stood on the TV stand.

She’s really pretty, she looks like Taehyung. Their family must be blessed with good genes. His sister has light brown hair and a bright smile so big her eyes are closed shut, a peace sign next to her cheek as Taehyung stands next to her poking out next to her, holding two fingers behind her head to imitate bunny ears.

Next to it is a smaller picture frame that holds a picture of what I’m guessing is Taehyung his sister and his little brother as kids, I can’t help but smile at it as I pick it up.

“Oh gosh that is so embarrassing, put that down,” he laughs seeing what I’m holding when he walks up to me, handing me a charger.

“Noo! You look cute,” I smile looking up at him over my shoulder, I feel like I’m about to faint as he looks back at me. He’s close, so close.

His hair falls over his forehead, lightly touching his right eyebrow. not a pimple or a pore to be seen, but the slightest little stubble peeks through on the bottom of his chin. his deep brown eyes have a subtle glint in them, I swear it's shaped like a four-pointed star.

My eyes falter down to his lips and I can see him inching closer, ever so slowly. Until I break it, clearing my throat and taking the charger from his hand. I mean I’d kill to kiss those gorgeous lips, but not today. I’ve been on such an emotional rollercoaster it just feels wrong to let those take over pleasure.

"Where's the outlet?" he takes a step back clearing his throat as well, his eyes scanning the room. "Yeah there," purposely not looking at each other. I walk in the direction he pointed at plugging in my phone, before sitting down on the couch.

And now it's back to awkward silence again. I slide my hands across my thighs and knees, lips forming in a tight line. He doesn't say anything either, sitting down on the couch next to me leaving more than enough space between us.

"You wanna watch a movie? Or should I get you home?" He asks me, so so polite, but going home? yeah hell no, that's not happening today. I think I'm going to text Jungkook when my phone charges to see if he's home and then sleep over at his place.

so movie time it is, it's great to spend some quality time with Taehyung. "Yeah no a movie sounds good" I patiently watch him as he turns the TV on navigating to Netflix.

"Fall?" he suggests. "hmn no," he continues scrolling. "Oh! Perks of Being a Wallflower?" I suggest. but he declines and says he didn't like it that much. "Me before you?" he looks at me, at this pace it'll be a continuous loop of this and that. but I've seen it already, and to be honest I don't want to watch it again.

"OH! She's the man! I love that movie!" I see the hesitant look on his face, but something in him makes him go with it.

I tuck my knees up on the couch, inching a tiny bit closer to Taehyung. I don't know what happened but by the end of the movie I was cuddled up into his arms, I heard him laugh during the movie. he turned the TV off, taking his arm off of me.

"Did you like it?" I look at him hopefully, awaiting his approval of the movie. if he doesn't like it I don't know what I'll do. "It was.. good! I liked it," he smiles. this is one of the movies in my top 10 list, god top 5 even! And he thinks it's good? he liked it? This is a great movie, an awesome movie.

I stare at him in awe, unbelievable that he just said that. I shake my head in disagreement, though he picks it up the right way laughing along with me.

"Thank you for having me over," I thanked him, it was late already when I got here. after a whole movie, I really should get going.

I thank him once more unplugging my phone from the charger seeing it's nearly 2.30 in the morning. He walks me out, my eyes linger across his features once more as I stand outside of the door. It takes everything in me not to kiss him right on the spot. "I'll text you," I smile widely at him.

I don't text Jungkook I'm only one floor above him, and I'll pass his door anyway. I make my way downstairs knocking on his door for the second time this night. He's probably still awake, playing overwatch or something.

And the door opens this time. But I don't see Jungkook, no. Mingyu opens the door ever so cheerfully, welcoming me in without a doubt. "Hey, Mingyu! Jungkook home?"

"Sorry Yun, I don't think he’ll be home tonight but you're free to take his room," that’s embarrassing. Mingyu knows absolutely nothing about me, and yet he just knows I need a place to sleep. "Thanks. I’ll... text him,"

His room is neat, bed made perfectly. I hold my phone up to my ear. Ringing, once, twice, trice, like four hundred more times I don't know. it feels like an eternity until it goes to voicemail, which leaves me with a text.

no matter how close Jungkook and I are, it's still weird to sleep in his bed without him knowing.

Hey Koo, I'm staying over at yours just so you know.

What a rough night, I went from crying at home to being emotionally rescued by Jungkook. Then going home meeting Taehyung on the bus, just to rudely push him off of it. Meeting up with Yoongi five seconds later, fighting once again, getting back to Jungkook’s apartment where I found my Dad after a whole year to once again be rescued by Taehyung this time. Followed up by Mingyu letting me into Jungkook's apartment and now we're here.

I don’t think it's a crime to say that I'm tired, and I just want to sleep the night away. I'm actually doing fairly well for the rollercoaster I've been on, Taehyung really helped me out tonight.

I scavage around Jungkook’s dresser to find a black shirt, placing it on the bed. taking my makeup off in the bathroom, Jungkook was right this morning. I really do look terrible. Gosh, I went to Taehyung's like this? I hope he didn't wear his contacts.

Back in Jungkook’s room, in his shirt that's far too big on me. I settle down in his bed, off to fucking, unicorns, and elves or something. I'm going to dream so, so well, Jungkook's bed is like a cloud in physical form. And before I know it I'm off to dreamland.

at least that's what I think, I sent Jungkook that message 15 minutes ago tops. And he walks in, doesn't even say anything but cuts right to the chase and kisses me with force, hungrily whilst cupping my cheeks.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day Yun, you drive me insane," he says between kisses, trailing down my jaw and my neck as I give him more space to mark me even more than he already has.

he moves onto the bed, pushing me further back against his pillows. his lips work me so good I think I’ll get addicted to it soon.

He takes off his shirt, pulling at the hem of mine placing small kisses all over my face. His hands are all over me, massaging my thighs, trailing up over my hips to hold my waist whilst the other one is holding himself up as he hovers over me.

He just knows what to do, gets me so wet so easily. Skip the foreplay, fuck me right now. mainly because this foreplay feels like it's taking forever, I just want him out of his jeans right now.

I move my face away from him, pulling the shirt off that I'd been wearing. The sight of my bare chest is all it takes for him to start unbuckling his belt, his abs on full display, oh lord I love this sight. wish I could marry this sight.

His hair falls in front of his face trickling his nose, gosh he looks so goddamn handsome.

My eyes shoot open and I'm met by the sight of Jungkook's PC setup. What the fuck, did I seriously just have a sex dream about Jungkook?? my best friend? My head shoots to the door as Jungkook walks in, the real one. He peeks his head through to see if I'm asleep or not.

"Jungkook?.." I nearly whisper. He takes this as his queue to come in, dimly turning on the lights. rushing over to my side of the bed, crouching down next to me as I swing my legs over the edge. knees facing his chest, taking my hands in his.

"Are you okay? what happened?" He looks panicked, I feel guilty. he must think something major is going on because I'm staying over. well maybe because I came by at 2.30 in the morning, or a combination of the two.

"Where did you come from? You’re out of breath," Though I feel guilty I can’t help but suck in a deep breath, this stupid dream is making me delusional into thinking I’m attracted to him.

"Yun, You're here at 2 in the morning what's going on"

"I'm fine really," I assure him. I don't know if I want to break down in his arms or pretend like everything is fine. I don’t want to burden him each time with my issues, we barely ever talk about him and his situation.

but he insists no matter how much I hold on to the 'I'm fine act' he doesn't let it pass until I spill everything out.

"Okay.." I sigh letting my shoulders drop, here it goes.

"So... I left your apartment and when I got on the bus, Taehyung was sitting there. I push him off of the bus and at the next stop I meet Yoongi, we go out to eat. he tells me he hell basically never let me date and that I'm the big cause of turning Dad into what I turned into. well, he didn't tell me that exactly but that's what it felt like okay. Anyways, I ran off and came back to your apartment but nobody opens so I went to the elevator where I saw my Dad, I nearly got a panic attack but then Taehyung was there yelling out something about a store and I needed to come back so we go to his apartment upstairs, sorry I mean his sister's apartment that has a really really cute cat by the way a-"

"Yun, Yun," he waves his hands around a little cutting me off. "Your Dad was here? in my building?" he asks, his brows furrowing a little as his expression turns into a combination of complete shock and something that makes me think he isn't processing this properly.

"Yeah, But it's fine! Taehyung and I watched a movie and I actually feel way better right now," that's not a lie, I do feel better. I was shocked at first and yeah I might've had a slight panic attack, but now it just feels numb. I see he's doubting me, eyebrows raised with a questioning look on his face. "Seriously" I assure.

"Alright," he stands up his hands ghosting mine before he walks over to his dresser grabbing the pyjamas that are folded on top of it heading back to his door. "Let me know if you need anything m’kay?"

I nod with a small smile, more like the corner of my lip inching up for a split second. He walks back out, turning the lights off before he shuts the door.

It falls silent. I grab my phone off of the nightstand to check the time. 3.40 am. I should really be going back to sleep. I lay back down on my back, staring at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep again. I close my eyes but all I see are flashbacks of the stupid, stupid dream I had. I shouldn't think about it, nope.

Lasagna, yes I'll make lasagna tomorrow *Jungkook’s abs* no no no. Okay uhm, Karaoke. I should practice my singing. Yeah! That IU song has been going well, I should learn the second verse. Or maybe something with a higher range, I mean certainly the f#5 was harsh on me first but I think I've got it. Maybe I could up it a notch by going for like a G5. I know Sia's chandelier is also *Jungkook* no no no. No!

Maybe something sad? Today was sad! shit, what if Yoongi texted me? I flip my phone over to look at it. 3.50, that took me ten whole minutes to think about? Woah.

I unlock my phone and I see exactly one message. From the group chat, something about Kai and his slutty waist or something, I don't know. But nothing from Yoongi, glad to know my brother cares so much. Who am I kidding I should be glad to be free from him for a second.

He worries about the wrong things, worries about things that aren’t there. Talking to guys is forbidden but walking off in the middle of the night where anything could happen, that’s okay with him? I could’ve been kidnapped countless amounts of times, I guess he’s used to me running off.

Wait, what if Dad went home after he saw me? what if he's there right now? I don’t know what a disaster it could be back at home. I don’t know if when I go home tomorrow I'll stumble upon a murder scene or a trashed house, or a bleeding out Yoongi with a drunk mom and dad in the room or-

I sigh deeply, this is too stressful for me to think about at the moment. Hey well, at least I'm not thinking about Jungkook's big, big strong veiny hands anymore. oh, what is wrong with me?

That's why I decided to get out of his bed and go over to the living room. He's sitting on the couch, TV on. I can see there's a soju bottle on the coffee table unable to tell if it is full, empty, or partially drank.

The back of the couch is facing the bedroom doors, he can't tell I’m here.

"Koo?" I sound quiet but it's still enough to make him turn around and look at me. "I can't sleep" I haven't properly tried but my mind is racing from thought to thought and when I do actually sleep all that I can seemingly think about is Jungkook and his crazy good abs.

he nudges his head for me to come towards him. he adjusts his position to lie down completely on his back, with his neck looking for support on the armrest whilst holding out an arm for me to join him. so I do, lying down on his chest and closing my eyes as I lay down.

His attention stays stuck on the TV, now with a lowered volume. My back is facing the screen anyway, the only thing I pay attention to is the rising and falling of Jungkook’s chest and his heartbeat beating in an exact pattern. That is until I hug his waist and let out a big sigh of relief. It goes from a steady pattern to a moment of nothingness until it switches back to its original pattern.

“Thanks for letting me stay,”

“Anytime,” His hand falls on top of my arm that’s hugging him, the pads of his fingers lightly tracing figures on it.

“Hope I didn’t intrude on your plans,” I look up at him.

“Never,” he smiles.

“I was watching football with Eunwoo, Guesung and Minghao. Mingyu was supposed to be there but he had to pick his girlfriend up from the airport,” he explains.

I hum at that readjusting my head back to its original position, on his chest. “Sorry for giving you a heart attack,”

“Yun,” He moves his hand under my chin lifting it up to look at him. “Promise me that next time you fight with Yoongi, or see your Dad -no matter if something happens or not- You’ll call me,”

“Sure? Yoongi loves arguing,”

“You know what I mean,” he says, taking his hand away from my face. “Promise me,”

“Okay…”

“Say it” He insists, making me smile.

“I promise” Now I can sleep, in peace.

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[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I request Sully and or Helen (if you choose both, then separately please) where they see their partner dressed up (for an event, wedding, or whatever), and you know, taking their breath away. They just look too pretty not to touch and so heavy makeout ensues. If you’re comfortable, can you make it spicy? Also, if those characters don’t inspire you, feel free to choose any other male creeps! (I want to ask this same request with a few other creeps, but I’ll do that next time your request inbox opens!)

Y e s...... I love this. Absolutely feel free next time around to request this with more creeps, I love stuff like this!

I'd say I got quite inspired considering this request got about 500 words longer than I meant it to ^^' This did indeed get QUITE a bit spicy, more than I originally intended

Helen:

Helen is a man of self-control. Not much gets to him, and he prides himself on his ability to control his emotions and hide anything he wants to be hidden. Tonight, however, was the first night that he lost and was and was unable to keep his impulses in check. You were going to an event in the Underworld, something common for those of you living in the mansion, and Helen was very proud of you, wanting to see you off before you left, but what he was not expecting was for you to look so... delicious, yes, that was the word his brain decided on. You were dressed in a brand new outfit, one you'd kept hidden from him one that accentuated your body in ways he wasn't used to, ways that rendered him speechless and left him choking on air as he glanced at you from across the room. When you asked him how you looked, smiling and twirling so he could see the full outfit, it felt like Helen lost control of himself. His strides were quick, and his lips slamming passionately onto yours were even faster. You can't help the noise of shock that slips out of you, especially when his hands begin roaming your body, caressing and squeezing in all of the right places.

Of course, you tried to put up a fight, forcibly parting from him with heaving breaths, reminding him that you were supposed to be there in thirty minutes, trying your best to resist the excitement he had flowing through you, but he laughed, that deep laugh that always caused you to tremble before him, stating that it's good to be fashionably late sometimes. You couldn't argue with that, especially not when he began peeling off your clothing, when his lips began to travel down your body, and when he pushed you onto his bed, yanking off his own clothes in the process. The second his belt hit the floor you'd given up on any possible resistance, and you allowed him to drown you in the familiarity of his pleasure, Helen not even hesitating to slip himself inside you and remind you just what it is you do to him. You did indeed end up there fashionably late, warmth on your cheeks and hickeys decorating nearly all of your visible skin.

Helen had sent you off with that same laugh, and the promise of even more when you'd get home that evening. You couldn't wait for the event to be over, your legs and pelvis sore from his earlier treatment, and from the teasing texts he kept sending you, it was obvious he craved more as well, and he'd prove it to you when you got home that night, fucking any thoughts of anything else out of your mind. He shouldn't have let you go, and he'd reinforce that into you, making sure to rut into you rough enough to make your body too sore to go anywhere else the following day. All you needed to do was let go, let him remind you just who it is you belong to, who should be the only one to see you dressed up as beautifully as that. He'd been so impatiently waiting for you to get home, and he'd be sure to take all that frustration pleasurably out on your body.

Sully:

Sully is not as good at hiding his intentions from you. He prefers to be open and honest with you, as it's something the two of you have been working on improving, so when you told him you were going out that night to an event someone you knew was hosting and asked him to give you his opinion on a new outfit you'd bought recently, Sully was more than prepared to give you his honest opinion. He was not prepared, however, for how drop-dead gorgeous you looked, and he felt as though you'd be able to kill him with how attractive you looked. He barely heard you when you asked him what he thought of your look, clearing his throat in embarrassment, all of his blood flowing to his pelvis making him a bit dizzy when confronted with the effect you had on him.

Sully told you that you looked incredible, and you could tell what you were doing to him, however, you made the mistake of teasing him, tracing your hands up his abdomen, looping your arms around his neck, and pressing a kiss to his lips. Really, you shouldn't have done that, because the next thing you knew your back was slammed into the nearest wall, his arms holding you up as he began to grind into you. The noises slipping out of you as a result of his actions spurred him on even more, both of you struggling to breathe from the sudden excitement taking over both of you. "You're not going." His words cut through the room and you'd blinked at him in confusion, not sure if you'd heard him properly. He reaffirmed his words when you asked him, his hands gripping your ass as he carried you to the bed, throwing you onto it and climbing on top of you. You're not going tonight, he told you again, that you can apologize to your friend later, but with what you're doing to him, you're not going anywhere.

Both of your outfits were thrown across the room, and his hands made quick work of silencing any of your complaints as his fingers pressed inside of you, causing any fight to be replaced with a loud moan from you. After all, how could you think of arguing when he moved his fingers in and out of you in the way he knew would always make you fall apart beneath him? You were quick instead to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back down for more kisses, your moans continuing as you hungrily claimed his lips. It would be a long night for you, not from being at an event, but from letting Sully eagerly ravish your body, and you wouldn't even remember the event again until you woke up sore and satisfied the following morning. You could hardly move to grab your phone and apologize, not before Sully wrapped his arms around you, locking himself into you as he went on to continue from last night's events. You could apologize later after the two of you went for another couple of rounds.

[lyranova]

————

Hiya guys! Here’s another flirty prompts fic for you all but with William this time, I’m still not feeling too well (i swear the stress of finals 😭) but hopefully by next week i’ll be a little better. I hope you all enjoy~!

Word Count: 701

Warnings: Suggestive Content

————

William quietly hummed a soft, playful tune as he walked out of the bathroom and walked towards the full length mirror that sat next to the wardrobe in the corner of the bedroom.

He stood in front of it, still quietly humming as he began to put on his Golden Dawn uniform. His purple eyes glanced at your reflection in the mirror and a small smile tugged at his lips.

You were sitting there, quietly watching him get ready, with a mischievous glint in your eyes; one that told him you were thinking about something inappropriate, that you were about to say something inappropriate, or maybe both.

And just as he suspected, the minute you opened your mouth, a flirtatious line left your lips.

"Are you cake? 'Cause I want a piece of that." You said as you bit your lip, your eyes looking his barely clothed form up and down.

William’s face turned a bright red at your words, and a soft chuckle escaped him.

“ Isn’t it a little early to be teasing me dear?” He asked as he slipped his pants on.

You hummed for a moment before shaking your head.

“ It’s never too early to tease you.” You replied playfully, making him chuckle and shake his head.

You slowly stood up from the bed and walked seductively towards him, making sure to sway your hips just a little more in order to catch his eye.

A warm and slightly proud smile appeared on your lips as you noticed his eyes immediately dart towards your hips before darting back up to your face.

You slowly wrapped your arms around his middle and stood on your toes. You pressed your warm lips against the cool skin of William’s back, and a bit of a smirk appeared on your face as he shivered at the contact.

Encouraged, you continued to press your lips against his back, slowly working your way up his spine until you reached the back of his shoulders. As you peered over his shoulder you saw a heated, lustful gaze in his half-lidded eyes.

“ Dear, I’m going to be late for a meeting,” He muttered hoarsely, his gaze not breaking from yours as you placed another kiss on the top of his shoulder.

“ You still have plenty of time before you need to be at your meeting,” You replied as you began to slowly kiss up his shoulder until you reached his neck.

“ But right now, at this moment, you’re mine. All mine.” You growled hotly against the soft skin of his neck, where your teeth gently grazed against his skin, making him shiver.

William turned around in your arms, leaned down, and captured your lips in a steamy, passionate kiss.

Usually you were the one to initiate such kisses, so whenever he was the one who did, it would take you back somewhat. But, as usual, you quickly recovered and wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist.

You held each other close as your lips moved against each other in a warm, sensual dance full of love and desire.

As the kiss continued you decided to try and deepen it. You poked your tongue out between your lips and gently grazed William’s bottom lip with it, but much to your surprise, instead of parting his lips like he usually did he kept them firmly together.

Pouting, you decided to try again, but he still remained tight lipped. A soft, irritated growl escaped your throat. He was teasing you, and you both knew it.

Your brows furrowed, normally you would love nothing more than to play this kind of game with him; but as he stated earlier, he had a meeting he needed to get to, so you didn’t have much time.

So, you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and gently grazed your teeth against it, which made William gasp in surprise. Smirking, you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth to deepen the kiss.

As you flipped William around, gently pushed him down onto the bed, and climbed on top of him, William realized that he was going to be very, very late for his meeting.

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[mc-tummy-blur]

Day 9 of Cringetober : Crossover Ship/Rarepair Featuring Fictional Adulthood Crush(es) Lupin III from Lupin III and Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop

Click for better quality

Ko-fi

[missingn000]

[floral-hex]

woke up at 4am feeling the weight of my life crushing me, so I’ve been sitting out in my car for the last couple of hours because I just need. to. be. somewhere else.

[yuukimiyas]

hello hello sweet friends in my phone!! ໒꒰ྀིㅅ´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა & a v happy weds to you!! <33 i hope may has been showing you sm love so far & that the magic continues throughout the month!! ໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১ have the best day EVER!!

[cinnamonsly]

When is the next HSM sticker restock planned, if there is one

i rly want to try to get at least a small one in before the holidays but i will keep u all updated!! it honestly just depends on how busy life gets and if i can find the motivation to restock them lol

[rosicheeks]

i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

[arthur-r]

finished the silence of the girls. crying for a combination of the book and the rest of life

[sanchoyo]

reread Ekleipsis bc I got some very nice comments on it and wanted to revisit it 2 years later and u know what?? I think it still holds up p well! There are slight typos and parts I wish I could’ve lengthened, foreshadowed more, or gotten Deep into the lore/characters abt, but considering I was busting out a chapter a day and had it done in a dang month I do think it’s pretty good as a lil story!! Would love to do more art for it or revisit the world in some way some day. Babies first real Big Original work 🥺 in my mind it’s still kind of the first draft version, but I’m still proud regardless… ❣️

[gregmarriage]

SUCH a ‘do everything you can in certain areas of your life, so you can at least feel like you have something resembling control over it’ girlie x

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

[joelsgreys]

flutter

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍