#and i apologize for putting this disaster on your dash

[jigensnacks]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Lupin III Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Jigen Daisuke Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, this one's really bad, and I don't say that lightly, Angst, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Suicidal Thoughts, technically a suicide attempt through alcohol poisoning, Technically a vent fic, Self-Hatred, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Seriously it's bad, if you're not in a good place mentally - please don't read this one, contrary to summary this fic does not contain religious content, most of this is a character introspection, literally nothing happens in this fic, it's just drunk jigen ruminating Summary:

Svätý Anton - village located in municipality of Banská Štiavnica, Slovakia, near said once-royal city, famed for mines, foundries, and production of painted sculptures of the nativity scene. Saint Anthony the Great - father of all monks, known hermit, tempted by the Devil.

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The rain wasn't stopping. Soft echoes of thunder. Rolling like a freight train right at him, and Jigen blinked. Darkness reigned in the hideout, interrupted only by the dim purple-blue light of twilight. He swallowed what little saliva pooled at his tongue. The beast was waking. Powerful cravings. His gun was clean, there's nothing engaging on the six channels of that ancient TV set, there's no VCR, no tapes, no working radio, and the rain's too heavy to go outside. And not a soul to confide in.

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Please don't let me listen to Swans/Michael Gira when I write. I beg of you. It's not good for my brain nor my liver. And the end result is a stream-of-consciousness thing of Jigen angst based on alcoholism, passive suicidality, and general self-loathing. All of this was written in one sitting. Technically a vent fic, wrote it because I needed to exorcize some demons. Figuratively, of course.

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Hooo boy. I don't have much to say about this one. Enjoy if you wish.

[rishiimaa]

Heey everyone!! Apologies about the late responses, usually when I get home from classes I’m always tired and worn out, so I never usually use my free time to write, it’s always sleeping :(

“What if JJK men gave their kid a new sibling?”

Yuji, Megumi

(Implied fem!reader)

(angst if you squint)

Fluffy, crack

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Yuji Itadori

You groggily rubbed your eyes, feeling the familiar weight of the early morning as you shuffled down the hallway. It was too quiet, which meant only one thing—C/N was still asleep. You glanced at the clock and panicked. School started in less than an hour!

You hurried to C/N’s room, fully prepared to yank the covers off and start the usual morning routine when a sudden wave of nausea hit you. You barely had time to react before you were dashing to the bathroom, hurling over the toilet.

“Ugh, not again,” you muttered, wiping your mouth and standing up. You didn’t think much of it at first, chalking it up to a weird bug or maybe something you ate. But after days of this, the nagging thought in the back of your mind grew stronger: could you be pregnant?

Yuji didn’t seem too concerned, even when you mentioned the possibility. He shrugged it off with his usual bright smile, saying, “I’m sure it’s nothing! Probably just stress.”

But you weren’t so sure. Finally, you decided to put your suspicions to the test. Literally.

The result? Positive.

You stared at the little plus sign, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you. You couldn’t wait to tell Yuji. When you did, his eyes went wide with surprise before he broke into a huge grin. “Another little one, huh? C/N’s gonna be thrilled!”

Well, that was the plan. But how do you tell a kid that they’re about to have a sibling? And how do you keep Yuji from turning it into a complete disaster?

After school, C/N bounded through the door, full of energy as usual. Yuji pulled him aside with a serious expression, which instantly caught C/N’s attention.

“C/N, there’s something important we need to talk about,” Yuji began, trying his best to look wise and fatherly. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

C/N’s eyes widened. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, no, nothing like that!” Yuji quickly reassured him. “It’s just that, uh, well… do you know where babies come from?”

Your heart dropped. Oh no, here we go.

C/N tilted his head, clearly confused. “Um… storks?”

Yuji blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Uh, not exactly. You see, when two people… um, really love each other…” He started to fumble over his words, throwing in a few random terms he vaguely remembered from health class, completely losing C/N in the process.

You could see the poor kid’s eyes glazing over as Yuji continued his awkward explanation. Finally, you stepped in, placing a gentle hand on Yuji’s shoulder. “What your dad’s trying to say is… you’re going to be a big brother.”

C/N’s face lit up with excitement. “Really? I’m gonna have a little brother or sister?”

You nodded, relieved that the message had finally gotten through. “Yup! You’re going to have someone new to play with and take care of.”

At first, C/N looked a bit skeptical, as if trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke. But then, a big smile spread across his face, and he started bouncing on his toes. “That’s so cool! I’m gonna teach them everything I know! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

All the tension and nerves melted away as you and Yuji exchanged relieved smiles. C/N didn’t mind another sibling—in fact, he was thrilled at the idea.

Yuji wrapped his arms around you and C/N, pulling you both into a big hug. “Guess we’re gonna be even busier now, huh?”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Yeah, but in the best way possible.”

With C/N still buzzing with excitement and Yuji grinning like an idiot, you knew that everything was going to be just fine.

————————————

Megumi Fushiguro

The day starts like any other, with you, Megumi, and your daughter, C/N, heading out for some school shopping. It’s a perfect family outing, and you’re excited to spend the day together. C/N holds your hand tightly as you browse through the aisles, her little eyes lighting up at every colorful display.

As you’re helping her pick out some new clothes, your gaze drifts over to the baby section. The tiny onesies, the soft blankets—something stirs inside you. It’s an old, familiar feeling, one you haven’t entertained in a while. You miss having a newborn in your arms, that sweet, quiet time when everything was new and magical. But you’ve always agreed that one child was enough. Still, the thought lingers.

“Mama, look! Can I get this?” C/N’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. She’s holding up a toy with wide, hopeful eyes. Without thinking, you nod and smile, giving in to her request. “Of course, sweetheart.”

You and C/N find Megumi, who’s patiently waiting in another section of the store. The three of you continue browsing through the mall, enjoying each other’s company. But as you walk, a strange sensation washes over you. Your vision blurs, and you suddenly feel dizzy, like the world is tilting sideways.

Megumi notices immediately. “Are you okay?” he asks, concern breaking through his usual calm demeanor.

Before you can respond, the world goes dark. You faint, but not before you feel Megumi’s arms catch you, keeping you from hitting the floor. The last thing you hear is C/N’s terrified scream.

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, the room bright and sterile. Your head feels heavy, and for a moment, you struggle to remember where you are. That’s when you hear a familiar voice. Megumi is talking quietly to a doctor, and there’s something in his tone that worries you.

You turn your head to see him, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of shock in his eyes. The doctor says something you can’t quite make out, and then Megumi turns to see you’re awake. Instantly, he’s at your side, his usual composure breaking as he hurries over.

“What’s going on?” you ask, your voice shaky. “Where’s C/N?”

“She’s with Yuji,” Megumi reassures you, his hand gently squeezing yours. You sigh in relief, but there’s still a nagging worry at the back of your mind. You try to sit up, but the room spins, and you’re forced to lie back down. Megumi helps you, his hand steadying you.

“You fainted in the mall,” he explains, his voice soft. “I caught you before you hit the ground. But…” He hesitates, his eyes searching yours. “The doctor thinks you might be pregnant. They took some tests while you were unconscious, and we’re waiting for the results.”

Your eyes widen in shock, the words sinking in slowly. Pregnant? You remember standing in the mall, staring at those baby clothes, thinking how much you missed having a newborn. And now this?

Megumi rests his head gently on your stomach, his voice laced with regret. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I should’ve noticed something was off.”

But instead of feeling worried, you suddenly start to laugh, tears of happiness spilling down your cheeks. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. “Don’t be sorry, Megumi. I’ve… I’ve been wanting another baby.”

He pulls back, startled, his dark eyes searching your face for any sign that you’re joking. But when he sees the sincerity in your expression, he hugs you tighter, burying his face in your neck.

After a moment, he pulls back slightly, his serious expression replaced with a hint of nervousness. “Oh, how are we gonna explain this to C/N?”

shit.”

A few hours later, the doctor hands you the results. You and Megumi stare at the paper, your hearts pounding in sync. It’s positive. You look up at each other, and without another word, you’re in each other’s arms, Megumi pressing small kisses to your temple, your cheeks, anywhere he can reach.

When you tell everyone the news, Yuji brings C/N home. She runs to you, her little face full of worry. “Mommy, are you okay?”

You smile and reassure her, “Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.” Megumi scoops her up in his arms, holding her close.

“How would you like to be a big sister?” he asks, his tone light and teasing.

C/N’s reaction is immediate. “No!” she exclaims, causing your heart to drop.

“What do you mean no?” Megumi asks, clearly surprised.

“If I become a big sister, then I’ll have to deal with a baby who acts like Papa! And a kid like Papa is bad!” she declares, crossing her arms in a way that’s all too familiar.

Megumi looks genuinely offended. “Hey…what’s that supposed to mean?”

Before their bickering can escalate, you interrupt with a kiss on C/N’s cheek, your heart full as you reassure her, “Don’t worry, sweetie. The baby won’t be like Papa. You already act like him enough for both of you.”

C/N pouts for a moment but eventually melts into your kiss, nodding as she finally agrees to be a big sister. Relief washes over you, but you notice that Megumi is still a bit peeved at what C/N said before.

He leans in closer, narrowing his eyes at C/N.

“Hey…How about you repeat what you said.”

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HI!! SINCE EVERYONE REQUESTED IT TO BE POSTED I’LL POST IT 😭 IF YOU WANT A CERTAIN GUY THEN PLEASE REQUEST IT :3

[strawurberries]

General Head cannons for Vash the Stampede p.1

Summary: General relationship head cannons for one lovely Vash the Stampede.

Authors Note: Hello!! I hope you all like this :D I don't have very many ideas for writing, so this is a little bare. If you guys want, go ahead and send some requests in! I'd love some inspiration :) Also, this is only part one because I made this post too long and Tumblr wouldn't post it so.... 😅

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some angst and mild nsfw. Mentions of guns, wounds, etc.

If it was up to him alone, he’d never confess his love. There's really no way around it, he’s scared of what would happen—his heart racing and mind reeling at every single possibility that rested under the stars; every disaster, pain, and sorrow that could accompany his lover, and drape them in the suffering he's known all his life. He doesn't want that. He wants them to be happy, content, safe. So, for a long, long time, he doesn't tell you how he feels nor how he desires you in your entirety (he'd take even the smallest portion if you offered. A single dashing touch as you passed him by? He'd treat that memory like a holy text, reciting it over and over until his very soul memorized it. You smile at him? God, he's your most devoted follower now and he'd do anything you asked. Give him anything and he will cherish it with such delight and love).

Once he gets over his tendency to hide his love though (and, here, it isn’t him who confessed but you), his emotions would gush out without rhyme or reason—a storm so powerful it would sweep the planet in rains of adoration. It’s a difficult and strange love though. This comfort is so foreign to him, he will indulge in it with fever one day and recoil at the very same touch the next. Learning to love safely is a slow, terrifying process; but, oh, how he desires to give you everything you need (and how he secretly wants you to give him all your love as well, but he would never say that as that is a very selfish thought! Shame on him for thinking such things, right?).

His favorite form of intimacy is quiet mornings when he can wrap his arms around you and pretend the world doesn’t exist—that the only thing that matters in the entirety of the universe, reality even, is loving you unconditionally. Though, peaceful mornings like that are hard to come by. Mostly sleeping out in the desert, running at the slightest hint of danger, and a constant alertness on the back of his neck that tells him that one blink, and you will be gone. So, he settles for other forms of affection (though, cuddling will always be his favorite thing. Having you pressed up against his body, lungs falling in sync, and hearts intertwined just as your legs and arms are. . . oh, just thinking about it makes his entire body shiver with love and deep embarrassment). Hugs, while not cuddling, are another of his favorite things. He loves any kind of hug.

The quick hug before he runs off into danger? Thrilling and so full of adoration. If he doesn’t make it back, at least he’ll die with the lingering warmth of your touch—ah and there you are kicking him in the legs for thinking such a thought. “Of course I’ll come back,” he grins, “I have you waiting for me”. But a hug from you before you run off into danger? Bad, bad, bad. He’ll chase after you and tackle you before you can even get out the door. 

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be running off into danger!”

“Who said that?!”

“Me!”

“Then don’t say stuff like that!”

(Wolfwood had to drag you both out of danger and gave a lecture that rivaled his priestly preaching)

A hug from behind? He loves melting into you, like he’s meant to be a part of you. He loves feeling connected in any and every way. He’s so distracted by love that he realizes too late that he’s putting all his weight onto your back and you're slowly sinking to the ground and he panics, falling back and oh god, there he goes: apologizing and rambling. Tell him he’s okay. He’s scared of doing the wrong thing and driving you away. You’re the most wonderful, precious thing he’s ever had the pleasure of having—he never wants to lose you over some silly mistake on his part. You hugging him from behind? He’s dead. He freezes and looks over his shoulder to see you buried into his back (he’s a tall bastard, he knows this but it hits him differently when he sees you being so small)—oh god is this what love feels like? Will quite literally beg for you to do it again and hums happily if you comply. If you don’t, that’s okay too; he’ll just pout and hug you instead.

A long, comforting hug? He doesn’t like talking about those moments, when the pain swells up into his throat and the world claws at his heels. But, he still appreciates the all-encompassing embrace you’ll give him. An angel burying him within their bosom and bones, telling him that the world will settle, and he will rise again, just like the morning sun—and he loves that rising light, because it means another day spent with you. When you need comfort like that, when the world is too tall and you're buried under the weight of fate and existence, he’ll wrap around you like the tree roots of a great oak. Strong and unwavering, he’ll anchor himself in place for you until you're ready to move on, or ready to simply sleep. He finds that sleeping with you resolves many of his problems.

In private, he is like a puppy. This description is quite simple, yet nothing fits the man better. A constant people pleaser who found himself devoted entirely to one person. You’ll have to explain that yes, you love showering with him but sometimes you want to shower alone and no, that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. And there have been many times where you’ve had to force him into resting because he won’t stop.

“Oh, here! I can do that.”

“Vash, it’s just the laundry, it's okay.”

“No, no! I can do it!”

“You cleaned the whole room already, love. I can do this.”

“No, I promise it’s—”

“If you don’t let me do this load of laundry, I will literally combust right here.”

“. . .”

[cutegirlmayra]

This is probably really out there but here we go. A mysterious lavender hedgehog with familiar jade eyes comes from the future (25ish years) trying to get future Eggman back from destroying the past (modern) verisons of the heroes. She's pretty fast and Sonic finds she's weirdly familiar especially when the insane elderly Eggman goes on about keeping his promise to never touch the girl. Modern Eggman then attacks her, it's revealed she is Sonic's future daughter Velocity (best name I thought of)

Prompt:

“And that’s the gist of it.” The Girl finished tying her dark purple hair up, with streaks of magenta that sparkled like stardust for some reason… There were highlights of gold, but probably from when she turned Super just a few moments ago with Future Chaos Emeralds that helped her to get here with this ‘Uncle’ of hers’ invention. Sonic thought long and hard, his thumb pushing up against his squishy pink muzzle as he contemplated all he had heard. “So,.. our Eggman discovered your other Chaos Emeralds… resulting in that powerful blast that took out so much of that valley..." He looked a little like he was reserving how upset he was at that.

Amy placed a hand on her heart, "That beautiful valley..." She gripped some fabric of her dress, both by her chest and at the white rims of its ends.

"That's awful." Tails looked down, his eyes also twitching as he tightened his jaw, holding back wanting to say more.

"Yeah..." Knuckles looked perturbed as well, folding his arms before looking over at the Girl. "And you say you're a hero from your time?"

"That's right." She tried to be sensitive to the fact that half the crater in the ground just now was her doing... "I apologize." she put her hand to her heart, a bit more firmly than Amy did, as everyone looked up to her at the sudden shift of action. She was holding herself well, taking responsibility, "If I hadn't chased my timeline's Eggman, then none of this disaster would have happened." She looked to Sonic, "I ask you all," then to the others, "Forgive me." and bent her eyes before lowering her head, "I swear I'll make it up to you."

They smiled at her trying to take all the blame.

"It's not your fault alone," Amy interjected, taking a sweet step forward to comfort the kindhearted heroine.

"That's right, how could you have known..." Tails also held his head a bit more higher, and the Girl smiled gently to each of them.

"Thank you, but let me make it up to you. Since I don't know where my time's big baddie went into hiding here in your time, I may as well plant some trees and try and help the scarring." She offered her hand up as a way to symbolize her 'gesture of help'. "Sonic, Knuckles... we'll need someone to till the land and collect some berries."

Sonic smirked, "You got it!" and darted off, not even questioning her sudden leadership.

Surprised by that, Amy also lifted up her hand to volunteer, "I'll help too!"

"Right!" The Girl nodded, eagerly, "Your hammer can pack a wallop, it'll be useful for breaking rocks, creating holes for the seeds to be planted in, and then I'll speed by to bury them up again."

"... How did you..?" Amy looked a bit surprised, but she took off.

"While Knuckles is tilling and digging around, I'll help Sonic collect berries. We should probably figure out an irrigation system first... I'll find a local source of water and use my power to help it reach the crater." She stated, looking over her shoulder as she dashed off before speeding off... so similar... her dust of wind, the blur of color in her wake...

Even her mannerisms... the confidence in her words and abilities...

"O-oh..." Amy narrowed her eyes a bit, "She knows..."

Later on, Amy was hammering away, swinging rocks that were too hard to smash and powder down out of the way to keep the ground soft for planting while Knuckles dug about, shouting out a battle cry of efforts as he did so.

She paused only a moment to lean on her Hammer's stem, wiping the sweat off her face, when Sonic appeared with berries all in his arms.

"Think this will do?" He asked her.

"Yeah, thanks." She smiled gleefully, giggling as he plot them down for her and let them rain from his arms to rolling beside her. "Got quite a haul there, did ya?"

"Yeah. Where's the girl?" He looked about, "She didn't even properly give us a name..."

"Yeah,... like, she's avoiding it... or something." Amy looked around, "Come to think of it... she even knew about my Piko Piko Hammer without ever seeing it before." she looked at her hammer a second, lifting it up as Sonic ducked over the berries.

"Ahhh! Amy, no! The berries! You'll squash them!" he joked about and she puffed up a side of her cheek, successfully being distracted by his antics.

"Oh, you! I wasn't gonna hit them!" she laughed and playfully smacked his back as he closed his eyes and smiled too, pretending to defend the berry patch. "Get up from there, haha!"

"Nooo! The berries, Amy! I worked so hard to find them only for your incredibly hard-hitting and infamous hammer to squish them all into oblivion!" he continued to be dramatic but then his word struck her...

"Oh." Her eyes blinked a second, and she stopped all movement. "Infamous?" She leaned away as he got up, stretching out his 'lightly patted with scolds' back, and looked cheerfully back to her with his arm behind his head, pretty relaxed, but still fully stretching towards the sky.

"Well, yeah! It's obvious to me that in the future, we'll be pretty popular!" he looked out at the crater they were cultivating for vegetation and put relaxed hand down and the other on his hip. "Look, Amy... just look at it." The wind blew gently by them... and the sun illuminated the space as it rose over the curvature of the earth. "Velocity really wants to set things right, we shouldn't question her on this... I'm sure we'll find her old egg-gramp, soon." he put his arms back up over his head... when Amy looked a bit sorry for doubting her.

"Yeah... you're right, she really doesn't mean any harm-... Wait a moment!" Her eyelids bounced up wide, "You-!" she turned to him, as he looked at her with an innocent expression on his face.

"Hmm? Amy? What's wrong?" He asked while Amy pointed to him and moved away.

"You... Yo-yo-yo-you called her Velocity!" She exclaimed, and Sonic jolted in spot, "You-... You know her name!"

"Ah-oh-uh-Gotta run!" he darted off with a few awkward poses of trying to 'negate' her obvious suspicion of him now, too.

"Ah, wait!" she reached out for him... but there was just a pile of loose dirt and dust behind where he must have sped off, too... "Hrmm... Why does that worry me even more?" She bent her ears and head down, not liking the secrecy that swarmed around the girl. But she sighed, "Well, if Sonic can trust her... so can I." she looked up with determination and continued to hammer the ground repeatedly, looking like she was getting it out of her system... the berries lightly bounced and rolled a bit on the ground as she carried on...

Later, Tails reported that he had found the other Eggman, who was trying to snatch the remaining 'Past Chaos Emeralds' from Shadow, but was thwarted and tied up by him and Rouge.

"Awesome!" Amy exclaimed, "She'll be so happy to hear that!" she beamed, as Knuckles pounded his fists together.

"Can't wait to show her the work we've done on the valley! She must be having trouble locating water this far out into the mountains, though." He looked to Amy who nodded to his deductions.

"Sonic told me a little while ago that there are heavy rains coming down from the mountains, and monsoons usually reach this bit of land during the stormy seasons... If he had known she was looking for water, he would have said something sooner." She lifted a hand to explain, as Knuckles looked down and folded his arms tightly again.

"Poor girl..." He stated, "She only wanted to help..."

Amy also looked down... "I'm getting kinda worried..."

"Hey, gang!"

"Ah!" Everyone turned back to see Sonic and Velocity racing back, dragging two sticks behind them. "Sonic!" They seemed to all resonate their voices together in joy at seeing him and the new girl returning... but Amy didn't race to meet them like the others.

She held herself back... seeing Sonic waving and then looking back at Velocity with a charming smile... and her returning it happily...

Her heart hurt suddenly...

She gripped it tighter than before, "What... is this feeling?"

Although happy they found a way to trickle some freshwater towards the valley, Sonic had mentioned they should dig more smaller canals to have the water transport more down the mountain and not drown the new trees that will sprout here.

As they worked, Amy kept looking over her shoulder at the laughter and growing bond between Sonic and...

Velocity.

She gripped her hammer a bit tighter.

The campsite was moderately damp from all the water they were dealing with, making mud and finding it hard to light a fire without dry branches to use, but Velocity used her speed to quickly dry and spark wood together, and everyone seemed to praise her.

"You're pretty useful, Velocity," Amy stated, trying to be polite and kind as the girl looked up with alarm.

"You... You know my name?" She inquired.

"Y-Yes." Amy noticed her slowly coming up from warming herself near the fire. "Sonic... He... He let it slip by." she tilted her head, bending her eyes before smiling and closing them fully. "You two get along great together!"

"You think so?" Velocity wiped her hands off from a job well done and placed them on her hips, stretching herself up to the sky, breathing in the world around her. "Ahhh... the air is always so much clearer after a hard day's work!" she cheered, then winked to Amy, "You weren't half bad yourself there, hammer-girl!"

Amy had an anger mark on the side of her head, but kept her composure, twitching an eyebrow, 'H-Hammer... girl..?'

Velocity snickered a little, "Opps, my apologizes. You're super cute, Amy!" she tried to backtrack but Amy was already twitching a bit.

"It's fine." she held in her annoyance.

"You... planning to go back home, soon?" She asked as the girl twitched a second, scratching the side of her neck.

"Actually..." She blushed a little pathetically, and looked away at the side of her eyes, "Even though my timeline's Eggman is back, I would still like to finish what I've started, and get the crater looking good as new! Tails said he can get some Flickies to fly grass and flower seeds over the wide crater... I think that would be pretty and wonderful to see, don't you?"

Amy was fuming with fire... "Yeah, that's wonderful." she dipped her head down, and getting up, Velocity could definitely tell something was wrong, and that she angered the poor girl.

"U-Uhh... You know, you kinda remind me of my mom..."

Amy stopped a second, "I should go-... Huh?" She was completely shaken out of her previous feelings. She shook her head multiple times and then reached out gently to Velocity, stepping forward a bit tentatively before pulling back, "I-... what was that?"

"My mom." Velocity smiled, distilling the obvious hostilities that must have been created somehow... though she didn't seem phased, and had no desire to question it. "When she got irritated with me, she would always say, 'You're just like your Father! Augh!' but when she was happy with me, she'd always say, 'Ha! Like Father, like Daughter, eh?' and I knew she was proud of me." She turned her body to the side and looked up at the moon.

Her profile...

Amy admired how it looked just like Sonic's...

Her mind flashed to that image of him... and seeing so much of how similar they were, looked away.

"Velocity... I'm sorry." she closed her eyes, as Velocity looked back to her.

"What for?" She wondered.

"I've... I've just been awfully jealous of how you and Sonic get along so well..." She sighed and held her arms together, looking off to the side of the crater, "You can race alongside him... make him laugh... and you both have the spirit of heroes about yourselves... The more I watched you two work together, the more insecure I became... and that was unfair to you." She opened her eyes gently and turned back to Velocity, taking her hands. "But not any longer!"

Velocity lurched back a second, looking awkwardly with her mouth hanging open at the girl's sudden jump towards her and seizing her hands. "W-wha?"

"I won't lose to you, Velocity!" Amy looked pretty stoked, determination coursing through her eyes as Velocity slowly shook her head in utter horror.

"N-No, no, it's not like that-!" she tried to state but Amy continued, letting her hands come up as though the two were praying, putting Velocity's sweating face up near hers as well.

"Two women in a fierce duel of love, each fighting with all her soul and might for her one true love to take notice of her more than the other..!" Amy's eyes gracefully lifted to the stars, shining like gemstones as she declared her intentions with Velocity about to fall on her shaking knees.

"Please, no more..." Her eyes were shaking, "This is not what I meant to-!"

"No woman expects to fall in love, especially with someone as elusive as Sonic The Hedgehog." Amy took a deep, respectful breath in. "But alas, we are what we are. We are made to love, and Sonic just happened to squeeze our hearts without us knowing... it was too late when we did, anyway." She shook her head, "Can't be helped."

"M-Miss Amy, please-!" Velocity's lips trembled, tears on the side of her eyes.

"I won't ask you to back down, Velocity... don't worry." She then looked with a fire blazing in her eyes as though the reflection of the campfire, but even more brighter and powerful than its flames!

"Eeek!" Velocity jolted in spot, "Really, this is so not necessary!" She kept trying to protest but Amy 'marched' on in her 'Woman's suffering' act.

"Two women locked in an endless spiral of longing and envy, each trying their hardest to obtain a heart as free as the wind... But I won't back down either, Velocity! I'm confident in my feelings for Sonic reaching even through the whirling wind!" She leaned forward as Velocity kept trying to get away but Amy's grip was too strong.

"Please, this is a bad dream! A bad dream!" Velocity shook her head, this being too much for her. "Please let me go..!" she fell to her knees at last, her eyes now crying blobs like connected pearl strings down her cheeks, each having a differing shape to them as though morphing with her plight.

"We can't be free of our feelings, Velocity, but although I won't lose Sonic to you, it won't stop me from maintaining a cordial and friendly rivalry with you." Amy let her go but kept a hand still on one of hers.

Velocity was now on her literal KNEES, her other hand on the ground, "It's just a friendship..." she pleaded.

"Exactly... we'll maintain our relations so as to not have anyone suspect us of bad conduct. We'll fight equally and on similar grounds. Hmm-hmm." She nodded at those rules, finding them fair. "But Sonic's mine, you hear me!?" She grinned widely as Velocity seemed to finally take the fatal, ending blow and fell to the ground.

The following day, Amy was constantly trying to intercept Velocity, who kept her distance from Sonic, confusing him.

Plowing and watching the Flickies fly over the Crater, Velocity said her goodbyes and--as a small joke, blew a kiss to Amy before waving things off.

Amy was confused, but Sonic just sniggered.

It wouldn't be until years later... Amy discovered that Velocity...

Was Sonic's own flesh and future blood.

And hers', as well. ^^

[floral-poisons]

helloo may i ask vice dorm leaders comforting a reader who believes they don't have any talents/skills Thank u :))

hi anon!! of course you may! i myself struggle with that mindset so i'm happy to provide. it’s really hard to get out of that mental state but with practice and affirmations and whatever else works for you, it’ll come to pass. it’s a hard journey that i’m sure a lot of us (including myself) are trying to recover from. stay strong all of you!! you got this! you’re all talented! i cherish all of you!! 💕💕💕

also i’m sorry for the people who don’t like garlic but why don’t you like garlic and who are lactose intolerant. jamil’s portion involves garlic and lactose.

LILIA VANROUGE

“i’ve seen a lot of things in my lifetime. but none quite as special as you~”

“lilia, don’t sugarcoat it.” you scoff as you measure out the liquid within the tube and pour it into the cauldron.

“but it’s true. malleus is quite special. but he doesn’t have many qualities outside of magic. his social skills need quite a bit of work.” lilia writes down a note as he watches you.

“but i’m not special. i’m not talented.”

“you keep ignoring everything i say and that’s going to get you nowhere. i’m much older than you would think.”

“yeah i know. i figured that out when i saw you in the textbook.”

“precisely! now where was i? oh yes. you’re talented. just not in the way-”

“the rest of the school is? got that when i got here.” you stirred the pot a few times before adding a dash of whatever powder was in the bottle.

“who’s the one who keeps defeating all the overblotted students?”

“ummm my friends? duh?”

“okay and who’s the one that managed to get your friends together and force them to collaborate and eventually settle their differences and learn how to cooperate in times of great danger?” you immediately went quiet. “exactly. and that’s your talent!”

“it’s not a talent lilia.”

“but it is. some people don’t know how to work together. some people don’t have good people skills. but you do.” he hands you another vial with a liquid. “some people think selfishly. others think about the greater good. you’re good at reading people and that itself is a talent.”

you felt your heart begin to beat faster. “really?” you mutter.

“yes of course! there’s nothing you have to worry about. there’s plenty of people without magic just like you, you know. it just so happens you ended up at a magic school.” he places a hand on your shoulder. “your qualities would be what leaders would look for. i promise.”

a small smile crosses your face. “thanks lilia-”

the thanks was interrupted by a sudden explosion from your cauldron, causing you to flinch. “shit...”

“(y/n)! lilia!” professor crewel exclaims.

“sorry!” the both of you sheepishly apologized after class.

TREY CLOVER

“it’s okay (y/n). baking is something that requires experience.” trey chuckles as he looks onto your...disaster of an attempt of a tart.

“trey, i don’t think i told you but i have no talents. not even in mundane things like cooking and baking.” it just was not meant for you. you loved the idea of cooking. you loved baking. but you just didn’t seem to be good at it. raw or overcooked. too much flour, too little flour. too much salt or too little salt. it might also be because you tried to do things based on instinct but other things would go wrong in the kitchen too. a common phenomenon was you dropping things.

“you just need to keep trying.”

“but i have tried so hard! i’m just not good at anything. i have no talent.” it didn’t help that your family only continued to ridicule you when you were younger. they never provided any sense of encouragement or acceptance regardless of what the product was. unless it fit perfectly into their idea of perfection.

trey cuts himself a slice of your tart and uses a fork to cut a piece. he doesn’t react as he eats it. “not bad. you have a nice balancing of flavors.”

“that’s out of pure luck.” you muttered.

“pure luck is good.” he puts the plate down. “you have talents though. just like the rest of us.”

“trey, you can literally overwrite things. that’s like the equivalent of changing matter.”

“okay let’s forget about me. what about you? what are your talents?”

“none.”

“just think.” he raises an eyebrow. “must i remind you who was the one who helped bring riddle back from his overblot? who orchestrated the whole attack? who brought people together.”

“that is sheer luck-”

“that was not sheer luck and you know it.” trey interrupts you. he never does. “you need to give yourself more credit (y/n). besides, you’re a beast tamer. beast tamers are plenty talented.” he gently pats you on the back. “i would’ve asked riddle to collar grim by now if i were with him. you have patience. and courage. and those are not easy to come by.”

ROOK HUNT

“great seven! i suck!” you exclaim, watching the arrow completely miss the target.

“patience dear trickster. it takes a while to get used to.” rook’s arrow hit the bullseye straight on.

“my arm hurts from pulling on the quiver so much.”

“that happens when you practice archery.” rook set his bow down and walked over to the target, pulling out the arrows one by one. you, on the other hand, had to run and collect them.

“you should just give up on me. there’s no point in trying to teach me.”

“and why is that dear trickster?” he frowns.

“because i have no talents. or skills. especially in a sport like archery. and before you say anything, you have no say. you’ve been doing this since what? since you were a kid? so you have no room to talk.”

“well everyone starts somewhere trickster. to deny yourself of the possibility of a new talent or skill is...well, unbecoming.” he pulled out the last arrow. “i don’t think you understand that talents and skills need to be cultivated. they don’t just come.”

“then how are you so good at this?”

“muscle memory. lots of rigorous practice when i was younger and still today. you can be naturally good at something but if you don’t polish it then it’s going to rust away. a sword can only be as good as the metal that reinforces it.”

“you love metaphors, don’t you?”

“but it’s true trickster. and you know it.” he sends you a glance with his green eyes. “do you think we all somehow just came up with our signature spells? and all mastered it? the point of nrc is to polish our magic skills so we may be prepared in the future. you just happen to have no spell to work on currently. your refinement comes in your mind. and your mind, trickster, is your talent.” he gently taps your forehead. “the capabilities of the mind are endless. and therefore, so are yours. so you see, you’re not talentless or without skill. you’re merely floating around and trying to find something that works for you.”

a small sigh left your lips as you come to accept rook’s words of kindness. “i guess so.”

“that’s better! now let’s try again!”

RUGGIE BUCCHI

“if i keep my standards low-”

“then you won’t be disappointed.” ruggie finishes. “yeah i get that. it’s easier that way. but then that means when you get higher than you expected, it makes you feel better. it makes the mediocre feel...advanced.”

“yeah...i guess you would understand what it feels like.”

“of course i do. it’s hard since my magic wasn’t really developed until i came here.” ruggie adjusts his scarf.

“so why are you here?”

“well, i thought i’d check up on you. because you know, it’s hard going to school with such exceptional people. there will always be people that are going to be better than you and i.”

“figured that one out.” you bury your face in between your knees.

“that doesn’t mean we’re not talentless.”

“you have magic. i don’t.”

“and yet you’re a beast tamer.” ruggie smiles. “beast tamers are well respected in the sunset savannah you know. there’s no shame in not having magic because there are other skills to hone.”

“like?”

“like leadership skills. public speaking. catching mistakes that many people would ignore. you’re not alone and you have talents is basically what i want to say.”

“i see.” you mutter, looking at him.

“now come on. let’s go get some lunch. i’m hungry.”

JADE LEECH

“there is an art to making coffee-”

“which is a talent i do not possess.”

jade frowned. “(y/n), don’t say that.”

“but jade, it’s true! i can’t bake, can’t really make a decent cup of coffee. everything is just so hard.”

“you need patience is all.”

“but how can i have patience when i don’t have any talents?”

jade rose his eyebrows upon hearing that. “you believe you don’t have any talents?” he questions.

“yes. i was always the ordinary one in my family.” you sulk in your seat, looking down at the cup of coffee you brewed. “even before i came here, i felt like i had nothing to offer even before coming here. except now that i am here it’s like amplified times ten.”

“i see.” jade began to write something down on a piece of paper. “now tell me what’s the grand total of all these items?” he slides it over.

you don’t even hesitate. “7,890 thaumarks.”

“table of four but they suddenly bring two more people?”

“immediately put them at table 17.”

“discount of 15% for this item?”

“2,509 thaumarks.”

jade smiles. “perfect. and you say you don’t have any skills or talents?”

“because i don’t!” then it hit you. “oh...”

“your memory is sharp. and your math skills are impeccable. you know how to handle people well and how to plot out the tables and turn them over in a timely manner. i would say you’re full of talent and skills.”

you, flustered, scoffed. “it’s only because i used to work in service back on my homeworld.”

“sure.”

JAMIL VIPER

“i get it.” is all he says as he sits down next to you.

“no you don’t.” you mutter.

jamil could only scoff. “didn’t you literally just stop my overblot like last week?”

you felt yourself shrink into your sweater out of embarrassment. it felt like forever ago when jamil overblotted and went against kalim. perhaps, you figured, the reason why you bunkered down in your dorm whenever you could after was that jamil’s overwhelming feelings of inferiority matched your own. he reminded you of yourself. a little too much.

“it’s hard.” he opens the basket and hands you something wrapped in foil. “here. you need to eat fresh food instead of that instant stuff from mr. s’s shop.”

you took the item and unwrapped it. the smell of garlic immediately hit your nose and you felt your muscles relax. “it’s my family’s garlic naan recipe. quite simple but it’s the small things you do that makes a difference in how it tastes.” he explains. you bite into it, tasting the slight char that compliments the garlic.

“anyways where was i going with this? oh yeah. it’s easy to feel like you’re not special here. or everywhere.” jamil pulls out two mugs with lids. he removes a lid and hands it to you. “mango lassi.”

“thanks.” you take it and take a sip.

jamil removes the lid from his mug and takes a sip. “but everyone’s talented. that’s why it’s called a signature spell. it’s something unique to you.”

“but i don’t have magic.”

“and yet people here can’t lead for shit.”

you almost covered your mouth from shock. jamil cursing was...truly out of the ordinary. “act shocked later.” he rolled his eyes. “you may not have a signature spell but...you’re unique in that you have a sense of charisma that brings people together. kind of like kalim i guess. we wouldn’t have been able to do anything without you leading us. we’re so wrapped up in our uniqueness at this school that we forget to collaborate with others. your ability to bring people together makes you a natural leader. and that in of itself is a signature spell.”

“oh...wow...” you buried your embarrassed face within the mug, downing the mango lassi. “thanks...jamil...you didn’t have to do any of this.”

“nonsense. i care about you. and i understand how it feels. besides i had leftover food and grim says he’s tired of seeing you feast on instant food.”

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 7

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 5.4k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, a lot of emotional turmoil, talk of pregnancy scares (birth control, contraceptives, etc.), implied discrimination towards sex workers (not by any of the boys dw), mentions of sexual acts

slowly hands you a cake that says "I haven't updated this fic in 14 months and I don't know when the next part is coming but here's an update thanks for being patient" in comic sans

-------

The rush to the hospital goes by in a blur of tears and shouting and panic and questions that you can't bring yourself to answer. The only constant is Min Yoongi's hand, firmly locked in your own throughout the ordeal, tethering you to reality.

You now sit in a private room on a sterile medical table and wait to be seen, too numb inside to feel the sting of the cold metal as it cuts into the backs of your thighs. Yoongi stands beside you, still holding your hand, his fingers are laced through yours and squeezing as if it could sap away the fear that eats away your insides, leaving you hollow and empty.

"It'll be alright. Don't worry about a damn thing, okay?" He shifts his weight anxiously, betraying his own underlying worries.

You barely remember him throwing his jacket over you before being rushed out of the house, and you don't feel deserving of the modest coverage. Though the leather is worn and soft against your skin, all you can feel is the harsh metallic zipper, scratching at your chest as though reminding you of your wrongdoings.

"Yoongi…" you start to say, but he cuts you off, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Don't you fucking dare. Don't apologize."

You feel tears well up in your eyes. Your chest grows tight with the words he's forbidden you to say.

"I've already called Namjoon, it'll all be fine. Don't worry." He works his jaw and rubs your hand with surprising tenderness, glancing to the little window in the door every other second.

He's been assuring you with those same words for the past half hour, but it feels like it's been an eternity. As you glance at the clock on the wall, watching the hands tick by, you imagine a scene like that of a health documentary. Tiny sperm, swimming up your insides… fertilizing your previously dormant eggs.

Fuck. You've fucked up.

You might be pregnant with Min Yoongi's child. Your Opticon birth control implant could send you into toxic shock at any moment.

You don't see how things can get much worse than this.

The door finally opens, and what appears to be a nurse steps inside. She holds a clipboard, and examines it while she lets the door close behind her. "Let's see now, Miss..." Her shoulders slump marginally as her eyes reach your name. "Oh, right. The PhysCom."

You don't have the energy to ignore the change in her tone from friendly to disinterested, and simply nod. However, you feel Yoongi stiffen beside you.

The nurse lets out a brief sigh and dons a professional expression. "So, what appears to be the problem?" She directs the question to Yoongi.

"We think her birth control implant isn't working." Yoongi explains, his eyes darting furtively between you and the nurse. "She, um… she reached orgasm."

You flush at the memory, ashamed of your failure to adhere to even the most basic of rules set before you.

The nurse makes a noncommittal noise and jots something down. "Says here it’s an Opticon. And you didn't turn it off, sir?"

He shakes his head.

The nurse touches the end of her pen to her mouth, a note of sympathy forming in her eyes. Not for you, but for Yoongi. "How long have you had her?"

"Excuse me?" Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

The nurse tucks the clipboard under her arm, giving him a weary, patient smile. “With PhysComs, we have a list of probable scenarios we’re supposed to check for, to better inform the doctor of the situation, and speed along the treatment process.”

She barely spares you a glance before returning her attention to Yoongi, her voice lowered just a fraction. “It’s not uncommon for newly hired female PhysComs to try and… well, intentionally get pregnant from their clients. Especially if those clients have any amount of wealth or status.”

Yoongi seems lost for words.

She nods as if to agree with his surprise. “It’s some psychosis associated with the job,” she says with a shrug, then straightens her posture once more. “So has she been acting strangely at all? What are her symptoms?”

Your ears burn a bit at being talked about like you’re not in the room, but this isn’t the first time you’ve been in such a position. Oftentimes checkups during training were the same way, the physicians would speak exclusively among themselves and Madame while they examined every inch of you, inside and out.

Yoongi, however, is not used to such an experience.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He says, in a voice much calmer than you would have expected. But one glance at his face tells you all you need to know. His eyes are burning like hot coals. Molten and dangerous.

The nurse doesn’t pick up on his irritation, and busily flips through the pages on her clipboard. “I need reliable information, sir. If you please,” she prompts him.

You can feel Yoongi’s hand clench around yours, and you turn to quiet him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hoping to reassure him enough so he’ll talk to her, but he stands his ground, his eyes glued on the nurse.

“Get out,” Yoongi says.

The nurse does a double take. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I said get the fuck out of here.” He points to the door. “Send us someone who will actually help.”

She fumes silently for a moment, but decides not to argue with him, and heads for the door in a huff.

Yoongi scoffs as you two are left alone once more. “What the fuck kind of bedside manner was that supposed to be?” He mutters, staring at the door.

“It’s okay.” You place a hand on his arm.

“No, it’s not.” He’s adamant, and you sigh wearily. How do you explain that this is only what can be expected?

You pick out a few haphazard words from the maelstrom in your brain, too tired to find the best phrasing. “Medical personnel… they don’t really get it.”

“Get what?” He asks, turning to you in outrage. “Being a fucking decent human being?”

You flinch, withdrawing your hand. You’re too tired to try and get your point across. But he notices you wilt and immediately comes closer, lowering his voice and placing both his hands on your arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, the edge of anger fading away to gentleness. Kindness. “What do you mean?”

You sigh, looking off to the side. You don’t deserve to have him look at you like that.

You carefully remove his hands, trying to maintain some semblance of a professional distance, even in the face of disaster. “Most hospitals don’t look favorably at PhysComs. We were given a few lectures about it in training. We use up their resources and time that could instead be given to patients who didn’t willingly put themselves at risk.”

You remember how your fellow trainees had reacted after those discussions. Many of them found the treatment to be unfair, but you yourself felt that, in a way, the medical field’s viewpoint was reasonable. Your choices are what landed you here.

“What the- what are you talking about?” He huffs, still seemingly in the dark. “You didn’t ask for this… this scare. It wasn’t your fault.” He tries to meet your eyes, but your gaze is fixed firmly to the linoleum floor.

A mirthless smile paints your lips. “But I chose this life. And these risks along with it.”

Before he can question you further, the door bursts open and Kim Namjoon enters the room, both his dress shirt and his hair are rumpled, and his eyes are frantic. “Sweetheart?” He rushes to your side and crushes you in a hug. “Are you alright?”

You hear Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “She’s okay, for the moment.”

Something about the way Namjoon holds you feels like a lamp being held against your cold skin. You’re too damp inside to light a flame yourself, but his own body warms you from the outside in the meantime. You want to let yourself enjoy it, but the memory of your unresolved questions leaves you limp in his arms, filled with nothing but misery and confusion.

He pulls back after a moment, checking you over for signs of injury. His eyes are wide with concern. “What happened? Tell me everything.”

A flare of shame rises up in you at the notion of telling Namjoon about your rule-breaking and everything that occured since this morning.

Thankfully, Yoongi seems to sense your hesitance, and he fills in most of the pieces for Namjoon. Namjoon’s expression remains stoic as Yoongi recounts what happened - you being brought home unconcious, seducing Yoongi - up until the mention of your orgasm. Namjoon’s jaw slackens slightly at this, and his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

It’s at this moment that the doctor walks in, a different nurse at his side. He’s a slightly older man, a few wrinkles creasing his brow, and a smile that appears kind until it lands on you. His face is then tinged with that same indifference that most medical professionals give you.

You wish it was your usual physician, but since this was an emergency, you didn’t have time to take the trip to your usual practice. Whatever hospital is nearest, that’s what Yoongi had told the driver.

The man turns to Namjoon, who arguably commands more presence than Yoongi, and the kindness returns. “Sorry for the delay. Busy night. From what I understand, your PhysCom has malfunctioned, is that correct?”

“Her Opticon malfunctioned, yes.” Namjoon corrects him. His diplomatic tendencies are a blessing right now. You just want to know if you’re pregnant or not. You want to know if you’re losing your job. You want to go home.

The doctor runs a few physical tests on you, feeling your breasts, peering down your throat, and examining your vaginal canal, checking for any other symptoms of malfunction from your Opticon. “All’s well so far.” He says, pulling his forefingers out of you, snapping off his gloves, and disposing of them. “May I take a look at the ComGear?”

You feel a flash of panic, waking you out of your stupor. Fuck, was it still in the group chat? You pull out the slim device, heart hammering as you check. Nope. Just settings. Thank god.

You hand it over, and then remember with a looming feeling of dread exactly why it might have been left on the settings page...

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving… Now it’s time for you to receive.”

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

The pieces fall into place, and there’s no doubt in your mind. They must have switched it off.

But why? Why, why, why…?

The doctor - you’re too frazzled to read his nametag - pulls out a pair of reading glasses and takes a look at your ComGear, poking around the device with his pointer finger. “Hm. Strange.” He squints. “The Opticon does appear to be switched off.”

Namjoon blinks. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.” The doctor shows him the setting, the toggle very much in the off position. Namjoon takes the device and looks at it in shock.

The doctor coughs. “I know that, um… for some individuals, the temptation and the… risk associated with no protection during intercourse can be sexually arousing. It’s not the first time we’ve gotten a case like this.”

He removes his glasses, folding them back into his pocket. “However, I would remind you and anyone else who uses this one’s services that although Physical Companions may be virtually expendable, it can become quite expensive for your own sake to impregnate them on a whim, using and discarding them, what with the standard fees for breaching their contract and-”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Namjoon interrupts him, and you notice the iron grip he now has on Yoongi’s arm. Likely the only thing restraining him from throwing a punch. “We’ll be more careful.” Namjoon glances at you, confusion making a little crease between his brows. “Is there some sort of morning after pill she can take, or…?”

“I’m afraid the lingering effects of the Opticon implant render any outside hormone blockers ineffective.” The doctor says, his smile turning thin. “It’s a bit of a blessing and a curse. The hormone production and ovulation suppressant in the Opticon normally make the chance of fertilization zero percent while in use. After it’s switched off, chances are still fairly low at 30 percent, for up to 24 hours. But the chances of fertilization after taking a morning after pill are significantly lower than that, at only five percent.”

He shrugs. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Chances are, your PhysCom will be right as rain and ready to pleasure clients again in about a week.”

A week.

First a week of suspension on Namjoon’s terms… Now it’s on medical advisement.

“A week? What should we do until then?” Namjoon voices your very thoughts, Yoongi seething silently beside him.

“Well, we won’t have any results until three to five days from now.” The man clarifies. “But I highly recommend you leave the implant switched off and keep her on traditional contraceptives until we know for sure. I strongly recommend utilizing other PhysComs in the meantime, just to be safe.”

You’re finished.

The doctor hands Namjoon a paper bag, most likely containing birth control pills and condoms. “She may be somewhat volatile for the next few days. You can bring her in for another checkup in a week.”

You’re weak.

“Thank you.”

You’re numb.

-------

It was a silent car ride back to the house, and as Namjoon helps you step out of the vehicle, one hand holding yours for stability while the other rests on your lower back, you can’t help feeling utterly useless. Detached from your surroundings.

What’s the point of any of this now? There’s no way they’ll want to use you until this is resolved. You’re of no use to them as a sex toy until at least a week from now, and by then it’ll be far too late to earn their favor back.

“We need to have a meeting. Call the others into the living room.” Namjoon speaks to Yoongi in an undertone, and you feel a small ache of hope. Maybe things will work out if everyone just talks to each other.

But when you enter the house and Namjoon begins to steer you upstairs, you finally find your voice.

“No.” You resist against him, turning around at the base of the stairs. “No, I want to be part of the meeting.”

The surprise quickly fades from his face, instead turning to concern. “You need to rest."

Something about the look on his face, about being told yet again through his actions that this doesn’t concern you, it causes something inside you to snap, your apathy vanishing in the wake of this new beast beginning to rear its ugly head within you.

Your throat closes up and a scream erupts from your aching chest. "You don't know what I need!"

Namjoon matches your desperation with an infuriatingly patient look of sympathy. He approaches you, his hand outstretched, but you stagger back away from him. He smiles sadly and drops his hand. "Stay here. It's what's best for you."

What's best for you.

The words throb in your mind, like the memory of an old wound. They bounce listlessly off the walls of your grandiose prison long after Namjoon shuts the door, sealing you away again.

You don't know what comes over you as you see visions of launching yourself at the door, pounding and scratching at the wood like a wild animal.

You could just open the door and follow him downstairs. Some part of you does register that.

But you want them to hear you. You want them to hear you rip your throat raw as you exorcise your demons.

You blink and you're standing still.

You haven't moved.

Your spacious room feels stifling. Like the walls are closing in on you, suffocating you.

Silken ropes sway in the dusk, catching your eye from beyond the balcony window. Your escape route from earlier that day.

You don't think twice before stuffing a few meager belongings into the long forgotten backpack kicked beneath your bed.

You need to leave this place.

You can't stay here.

-------

It had started drizzling not long after you left the house, and even now as you sit on the damp curbside, waiting for the next bus to take you far away from this place, it strikes you as funny, in a way, that the weather is crying for you, since you can't muster any tears of your own.

It's cold and misty, a foreboding atmosphere, by all accounts. It makes you question if what you're about to do is the right call.

But you shut down the arguments in your head as quickly as they appear.

Second guessing was what had gotten you into this situation. You need to follow your instincts.

And your instincts are telling you to flee.

It won't be so bad, you try to convince yourself. After the first night on the road, you'll eventually find a new town, a new home, a new place for yourself in this fucked up world. You've done it before, you can do it again.

You're considering suitable aliases for your new persona, when you sense another person approaching, their shoes tramping through the wet grass.

You don't look up at them, hoping they'll pass by and leave you alone. But they come to a stop beside you.

You keep your gaze on the road, droplets rippling the puddled potholes.

Then the stranger goes to sit on the curb too, and you can't help but look at them.

You'd recognize those lips anywhere, even beneath a baggy hooded sweatshirt.

"It's a bit late to run errands, don't you think?" Seokjin says, pulling his sleeves down to keep out the chill as he perches beside you.

He glances at you, then looks ahead at the road, the same way you were. You return your gaze forward, too exhausted to make a run for it. Though you don't get the sense that he would chase after you, even if you tried to escape.

Maybe that's exactly why you decide to stay put, but you don't give the suspicion any more thought.

"What do you want?" You finally ask, your voice croaky from being silent for so long.

"Nothing."

"Liar," you mutter, hugging your knees to your chest. "Everyone wants something."

He chuckles. Rests back on his hands. "I guess you're right about that."

Damn right you are. You didn't study the human condition through your years of training to be fooled so easily by pretty words.

"So?" You prompt him, still staring at the dreary horizon.

He takes a moment to respond. The silence is punctuated by the distant noises of traffic, an occasional car passing by, its headlights shimmering in the mist before disappearing down the road.

“The others are all out looking for you, you know,” he says simply. “Why do you think that is?”

If it were anyone else that had run away - their manager, a friend - you know what the answer would be. Because they care about that person. But how can you believe that about yourself, when you know you can never amount to anyone with that level of importance to them?

Ironic, since you’re the person with which they can be most intimate and vulnerable.

“I’m a liability,” you reply halfheartedly.

His silence serves to confirm your suspicions. A runaway PhysCom? Far too risky for a group at their level. You could become one of those anonymous sources like you saw in the news. A firsthand account of the BTS members’ secret sexual urges. Unacceptable. Snatches of words from the NDA you signed buzz around the edges of your mind like stray flies.

But since you're no longer connected to your network, then your tracker is probably disconnected. If the bus had come just a little earlier, you might already have escaped without a trace.

“You really think that’s the only reason?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to the moment.

His abysmal attempt to divert from the problem gets a hollow laugh out of you.

“Any other reason has ulterior motives. It’s just business.” You check the time on your ComGear. The bus should be here any minute. “I’m leaving, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“I don’t intend to,” he agrees, to your surprise. “God knows you’ve been put through enough.” He then leans forward, resting his forearms across his legs. “But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Your ears perk up at this.

Seokjin seems to take your silence as permission to continue. “The reason we decided to suspend you. It wasn’t… entirely selfless.”

You purse your lips in irritation and fix your gaze upon the horizon, settling your chin beneath your crossed arms. “Right. Ulterior motives, like I said.”

He clicks his tongue. “Touche.”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, what… were you planning to replace me?” You ask, trying to sound contemptuous. “I heard you all having your little group meeting in the kitchen. There are plenty of shiny new whores at your disposal, take your pick.”

He still makes no noise.

You wait, preparing to accept a bitter confirmation of all your fears.

But then he finds his voice. “We could never replace you, dear.”

You stop. Look over at him. His eyes are half lidded, his smile bittersweet as he stares off into the distance. After a few moments, he fishes around in his pocket and pulls something out, then hands it to you.

His smartphone.

“Here,” he murmurs, sympathy in the quirk of his lips. “In case you need to call anyone. Those devices they give you don’t have a cell plan, I assume.”

He seems to sense your wariness, and waves the phone a bit in a gesture of insistence. “I can buy a dozen new ones. It’s no trouble.”

You very hesitantly take it. “Thanks.”

Of course, he has no way to know that your ComGear is now jailbroken, for all intents and purposes. But… is this a trap? What if there’s a tracker in the phone? But why would he need to put a tracker in it if he doesn’t know your ComGear is off the grid?

The rumble of an approaching motor pulls you out of your cyclical thoughts, and you get on your feet, slowly coming out of your dissociative sulk.

But you still feel numb. Nothing matters anymore.

Nothing at all.

Jin gets up along with you, slipping his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Stay safe, alright?”

You give a brief nod of acknowledgment, only half in his direction as you shrug your bag onto your shoulder more securely. The hydraulics of the bus screech as the vehicle comes to a stop and lowers slightly, allowing you to step onboard.

You glance back, fully expecting Jin to stop you. But he doesn’t. He blinks raindrops out of his eyes while you board, and gives you a small smile once the doors close behind you. He lifts a hand in farewell, then turns and starts to walk away down the street.

He’s really letting you go.

You pay your fare and find a seat towards the back of the nearly empty bus. Rain pelts at the windows, picking up in earnest, and it feels like yet another layer, another barrier, separating yourself and creating an ever-growing chasm from the life you knew up until yesterday.

You pull out Jin’s phone, staring at the dark screen and wiping away stray raindrops from the surface with your sleeve. Why had he come to find you, if not to stop you?

“But for what it’s worth, you deserve to know the truth.”

Maybe he felt guilty. Or remorseful for the hell you’ve been put through recently. You would normally have felt immense satisfaction at such a thought.

But you can’t feel much of anything right now.

You don’t think you’ll be able to feel properly again. At least not for a long, long time…

Hm? The screen lit up. You must have pressed a button by accident. You swipe at it again, and to your surprise it unlocks. Who doesn’t put a passcode on their phone?

Is it possible… he disabled it before he gave it to you? Maybe. Whatever. You’re so tired of thinking, playing investigator and second guessing people’s motivations.

You scroll over to the phone icon, and tap on it, briefly considering calling your parents. But the wetness on your fingers messes with the touchscreen and you open the messages app instead.

You’re about to wipe the screen and try again, but… the most recent messages are… all about you. You tap on the group chat among the seven of them, currently bustling with activity.

[ Kim Namjoon ]: has anyone found her [ Park Jimin ]: hyung I’m so sorry [ Park Jimin ]: it’s all my fault [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not at the studio [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’ll talk about it later Jimin [ Kim Namjoon ]: everyone keep looking [Jeon Jungkook]: manager said they can call her network to track her down [Kim Taehyung ]: should we do that? [ Jung Hoseok ]: no! she could get in trouble :( [ Min Yoongi ]: she’s not a stray pet [ Kim Namjoon ]: exactly [ Kim Namjoon ]: we need to keep this quiet for her sake [Kim Taehyung ]: she hasn’t replied to my texts or calls [ Min Yoongi ]: me neither [Jeon Jungkook]: hyung... will she be okay? [ Kim Namjoon ]: everything will be fine don’t worry [ Kim Namjoon ]: we’re going to fix this somehow [ Min Yoongi ]: whatever it takes [ Jung Hoseok ]: where could she have gone... [ Park Jimin ]: what if she doesn’t come back?

You scroll further up, past days and weeks and months of texts between them… not even a day between mentions of you. Wondering if you’re alright. Hoping you’ve eaten enough. Wanting to do more with you.

The thread of texts Jimin sent to Seokjin just yesterday.

Hyung I wish things were different I want to hold her I want to tell her she’s enough I wish I could kiss her… I think I love her Do you ever feel that way?

And Seokjin’s reply.

I do I know just what you mean Why do you think I turned those secondaries away last night, hm? No one can compare She really is special…

He didn’t… fuck the secondaries? After you broke at dinner, he… didn’t...?

You switch to his thread with Namjoon from a few days ago.

I know you’re our leader but I don’t think this is the way to go You need to be more cautious

Namjoon’s reply.

What we need is action, hyung If we work together on this, we could get rid of these unnecessary rules We could all have what we want Including her It’s what’s best for everyone

Seokjin took several minutes to reply.

You’re going to lose her.

Jin knew. He tried to talk Namjoon out of writing that stupid essay, or maybe it was about your suspension.

Either way, he defended you.

You open his thread with Hoseok. Dimly, you recognize that you shouldn’t be snooping, but you’re too absorbed to stop.

Hyung, I think she really wants this All of us ♡ I don’t know how, but we need to show her that it’s okay That we want it just as much

How do you know that’s what she wants?

I can’t say ♡ But I know now She wouldn’t reject us Our feelings She feels something too

The date and time lines up with this morning. The morning after he made love to you.

He didn’t tell them. He kept your secret.

“Our feelings”? What does he mean? Him, Jimin, Taehyung… Seokjin? Do they all…?

Your head spins, the hollowness of your heart filling with a rush of jumbled emotions, like a tide crashing in. All your numbness is washed out with light, just a pinprick at first, that grows rapidly into a ray of warmth as you consider what all this could mean. The chasm starts to narrow, and you get the urge to jump ship, to turn back and figure this shit out. To know once and for all what they want from you. What you mean to them.

But how can you trust this isn’t a trap? How can you be sure?

The answer is as simple as they come.

You can’t.

You can’t be absolutely certain that their intentions are pure… that this is the right thing to do… that you won’t be hurt again.

But maybe... trust isn’t about being infallible. Being right. Being sure.

Maybe it’s built on what ifs. On trying again, even with no guarantees.

Guarantees are only as good as their word, and talk is cheap. Lies are easy. Your Opticon had a 100% guarantee, and look where that got you.

But you remember the way Hoseok held you that night, and made love to you like you’ve never felt in your life... When Jimin kissed his way down your body, with only the best of intentions. Namjoon’s strong arms embracing you when you felt powerless. Yoongi’s hand never leaving yours, even while you waited in the hospital. Jungkook carrying you home after you fainted, breaking your door to make sure you were safe in bed. The look in Taehyung’s eyes when he finally kissed you, breaking the ice you’d been growing around your heart.

How Seokjin let you go.

Maybe...

You get up with a start, rush to the front of the bus, and hastily ask the driver to let you off, much to the old man’s disgruntlement, but the moment the doors whoosh open, you take off at a run.

You want to go home.

You want to try again.

No matter how much you try to bury it, to forget the way they make you feel, you care about them. All of them. On a much deeper level than that of a PhysCom and client. And it scares you.

But you’re done running from fear. From uncertainty.

Now you’re running towards it willingly, as you give chase down the torrential streets, searching for that familiar hooded figure and hoping you’re not too late. You’re embracing the doubt, the fear, the uncertainty, the paranoia... letting their shadowy claws sink into you until they can’t hurt you anymore. Until they fade away, cowering under the glow of your determination.

You’re setting some new rules for yourself, no longer letting fear control your thoughts and actions, barring you from any chance of happiness.

You see Seokjin in the distance, trudging home through the pouring rain. You run faster.

You’re fucking terrified. But you’ve never felt so free in your life.

“Jin!” You shout to get his attention, still a block away. He turns around, and shakes his head, seemingly confused, but a smile starts to appear. You smile too.

Finally, you catch up to him, and without warning, you throw your arms around his shoulders. Damn, he’s always taller than you remember.

He laughs, shocked by your change of heart. “What are you doing?”

“I want to hear you say it.” You reply, looking up at him as rain dashes down your face. You don’t know when you started crying, but you’re grateful to the weather for masking your tears.

“Say what?” He asks, his hands resting on your waist to support you. Thunder rumbles in the distance, rain sliding down his perfect face.

“How you feel about me.” You reply, studying his eyes. “Be honest.”

He seems to sense the gravity in your words. He holds you closer. His eyes soften.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

For the first time since all of this started, you sense no deception in his words, no double meaning, no hidden agenda.

Because you aren’t searching for reasons to doubt this time.

You’re searching for reasons to trust, and you find them.

You want to kiss him. So you do.

[andypantsx3]

defiant | bakugou/reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

status: complete

length: 4,485 words

summary: There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place.

Katsuki, however, has other ideas.

tags/warnings: smut, arguing, possessive sex, light bondage, aged up characters, reader attempts to dom bakugou (keyword: attempts)

notes: This is based several years after the events of my fic savvy though you do not need to have read it to enjoy this one!! This is also unedited because I am too lazy, my apologies for the various mistakes within. I will come back and fix them at some point. Dedicated to @bobawithpomegranate​ for reminding me I was supposed to be working on this.

It was a Friday afternoon at approximately three p.m. when Bakugou Katsuki lost his fucking mind.

You knew this information because you had been watching the press coverage of your boyfriend’s latest fight, an operation in which he and Kirishima Eijirou had paired up to defeat a villain with an earthquake quirk.

Katsuki and Kirishima had taken the man down in record time, mere minutes after the reporters showed up. You’d watched them pound the villain into the very street he’d ripped up in the first place, and now Kirishima was puttering around in the background of the news coverage, smiling as he chatted up civilians against the wreckage of the city street behind him. Which left Katsuki to saunter over to the gaggle of field reporters and give the customary interview.

His blonde hair was disheveled, and his mouth was quirked up into a sharp smile, the way it always was after he’d just come out of a good fight. But he looked otherwise unharmed, just as intense and savagely handsome as always. He even looked like he might be in a good mood, pleased with the results of his fight, and you thought he might actually keep the swearing to a minimum this time.

He ducked under the police tape, flaxen hair glinting gold under the afternoon sun, and stalked over to the nearest reporter, already opening his mouth to crow over his latest victory.

Which is when something off screen caught his attention.

There was a muffled question from one of the reporters--not from the network you were watching or the mic would have caught it--and Katsuki’s scarlet gaze cut to the side. You watched in horror as his expression slowly morphed into one of apoplectic rage.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Katsuki snarled, eyes narrowing, an explosion already crackling between his fingers.

The camera jerked to the side, catching the startled expression of another reporter. He looked vaguely familiar to you--tall, handsome in a bland kind of way, teeth bleached for his job as a television personality. You thought you might have met him briefly at the last Hero’s Gala, but you didn’t have time to linger on the memory--Katsuki was already on the move, fighting his way through the pack of reporters, looking ready to commit a murder.

“--think you can just fucking talk to me, asshole?” you heard him shout.

“What did he say?” a voice murmured off screen.

“--he just asked Dynamight how he feels about his success today,” another voice uttered, closer to the camera, sounding bewildered and more than a little alarmed.

“You’re gonna wish you had never fucking been born, asswipe!” Katsuki shouted over them.

He’d nearly reached the reporter when there was a blur of red and Kirishima was there, one bulky arm seizing Katsuki around the middle. He hauled Katsuki out of the sea of journalists, even as Katsuki struggled, spitting and snarling like a wet cat.

“You fucking try that shit again and I’ll fucking blow your teeth straight into your brain!” Katsuki hollered, drowning out whatever Kirishima was muttering to him.

Your phone screen lit up next to you, several notifications pinging simultaneously. You let out a gusty sigh, glancing down at the contact names. News outlets, looking to scoop their competitors by getting the first statement from the Dynamight Agency on Katsuki’s behavior.

You swiped over a screen and dialed the number for the PR department, watching Katsuki continue to rage on screen, struggling against Kirishima’s hold. The crags in Kirishima’s skin told you he was close to going Unbreakable, and the sight sent a hot bolt of irritation through you.

You had no idea what the hell Katsuki thought he was doing, launching himself at a reporter like that. A reporter who had apparently done nothing but ask him how he felt about the success of his fight, a question Katsuki--the smug fuck--typically reveled in answering.

It had been a long time since Katsuki’s last PR disaster (tackling pro hero Deku over the side of a buffet table after an innocuous comment at one of their first Hero’s Galas), and you’d gotten him to promise you to be more careful after that. You’d honestly thought he’d pretty much moved past that sort of thing now. He’d grown somewhat calmer with age--though not less foul mouthed--and as his girlfriend, you were able to exert some level of influence over his actions, as each year, your understanding of how to play him grew deeper and deeper.

So what the fuck he thought he was doing right now was absolutely beyond you. And also absolutely not appreciated, as you had much better things to be doing than cleaning up after him for a shit fit that he definitely could have controlled.

If there was something bothering him, you were going to make him tell you. And if he was up to his old tricks, maybe he needed a refresher on exactly why it was inappropriate to go off like a bomb at every little thing.

As Katsuki’s primary PR rep picked up on the other end of the line, already speaking to you in a brisk tone, you resolved yourself to the task. You were going to get to the bottom of whatever had sent Katsuki into a fit--and you were going to remind him how and why to behave himself.

Whether he wanted to or not.

The trickiest part of your plan was catching Katsuki off guard.

That kind of a feat was nearly impossible, as Katsuki had reflexes honed by years of experience, an alarmingly keen intellect, and a single-minded determination that was frankly terrifying to contemplate. It had been years since he’d been outmaneuvered by anyone in the field, and the odds were against anyone who thought they could get the jump on him.

Luckily for you, you knew that his single-mindedness was the one thing that could also be used against him.

You left the agency slightly earlier than normal, shooting off a message to Katsuki to let him know you’d meet him at home. And then you yanked open your proverbial bag of tricks.

You helped yourself to a long shower, lathering on some of Katsuki’s body wash instead of your own, a trick that--you’d learned after once running out of your own--sent him into something like a possessive frenzy, knowing you smelled like him, that anyone you encountered would know you’d helped yourself to a man’s personal effects and understand that you were already spoken for.

Then you rustled around in your drawers for a nicer pair of lingerie--not anything super fancy that would suggest you were up to anything special, but nice enough that Katsuki’s interest would be piqued.

And then you dug around in the closet for the most essential element of your plan--handcuffs. Your face warmed with the memory of the last time these had been used--a blur of rough palms and sharp teeth all over you, while you all but sobbed for more--but you frantically quashed the thought. Tonight, if all went according to plan, you wouldn’t be the one strapped helpless to the headboard.

You weren’t the one with a lesson to be learned, after all.

The scrape of keys in the door sent you dashing to hide the handcuffs underneath your pillow, and then the stomp of boots in the hall told you your boyfriend had made it inside. You hastily yanked a sweater and jeans over your lingerie, then went out to meet Katsuki in the kitchen.

He clearly hadn’t had time to change after his fight, still slightly disheveled, blonde hair mussed and scarlet eyes sharp as they narrowed in on you. His handsome features were twisted into a suspicious expression.

“The fuck’re you up to, ditching early? Thought I was gonna get fucking screamed at when I made it back to your office,” Katsuki growled, watching you intently as he stripped off his gloves and boots. They hit the ground with a dull thud.

Your heart shot into your throat, but you pasted on your best placid expression. “I ditched because I didn’t feel like dealing with every outlet in the entire country blowing up my office line. Thought I could get more done here where it’s quieter.”

You didn’t mention exactly what you planned to get done here, hoping Katsuki would assume it was all PR and damage control.

In a way, it was damage control. Just...not via traditional methods, exactly.

Katsuki’s eyes tracked you closely. He still looked skeptical. “You gonna let me have it then, princess?”

Oh you were gonna let him have it, alright. He just had no idea.

You watched him for a while, pretending to contemplate unloading on him the way you wanted to. “Just...not now. I’m too tired, I don’t even want to deal with it.”

He scoffed. “Bullshit. You live for giving me shit. Fucking out with it.”

You glared at him. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be giving me orders. And if I was gonna say anything before I’m certainly not now. Now go clean yourself up. I have work to finish, thanks to someone.”

You retreated back into the bedroom, smothering a grin.

Nothing got Katsuki jumped up like defiance. Years into your relationship, he knew on some level that he wasn’t actually in charge of you, but he still got just as worked up when you got mouthy with him as he had on day one. It wouldn’t be long until he came back in, trying to pick the same fight, altogether too interested in the attitude you’d give back to him.

He was such a boy.

You lounged around on the bed, pulling out your work laptop and firing off a couple emails while you waited, just for something to do. Katsuki’s PR rep seemed to have things well in hand, but you helped where you could.

Soon enough, Katsuki was stalking back into your room, hair dark from a shower, looking like he hadn’t even bothered to dry off before stomping back in. He wore only a dark pair of sweatpants, the hard planes of his chest on full display--you suspected he’d foregone a shirt on purpose, knowing how the sight of him usually distracted you.

Which it still did, somewhat, but you were too heady with your own plan to truly be diverted.

You smothered a laugh at the way Katsuki’s eyes immediately honed in on the lace of your bra strap, strategically peeking out of your sweater as you had arranged it.

Two could play at that game.

“Think you’re real fucking smooth, don’t you, princess?” he demanded, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely threatening manner. You caught the clean scent of his body wash, just a hint of his syrupy sweet quirk under that.

Your thoughts fogged a little with his proximity so you pretended to ignore him, typing out some nonsense notes into your calendar for something to keep your attention off of him. The less you looked at him, the easier this would be. You were weak to his appearance, it was true, and nothing riled him up like not having your full attention.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you said vaguely, doing your best to sound distracted.

A rough palm shoved your laptop closed. “Oh I think you fucking do, princess. Think you’re gonna get all dressed up for me and then ignore me?”

You looked up into his face, just as his arms came down around you to cage you against the mattress. A thick spike of arousal jolted through you, but you pushed it down. Much as you were into this, he was not going to be in charge for much longer.

“And if I did?” you asked, victory surging through your veins at the dark look that entered his eye.

He leaned down, putting his face near to yours. “Gonna be real hard to ignore me when I’m fucking you so hard you’ll feel me for weeks.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone on such thin ice,” you breathed. You didn’t even have to pretend at being affected by his choice of words, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.

Katsuki wasted no time covering your mouth with his. The weight of him pressed you back into the mattress, your laptop tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter. Rough hands trailed up your sides, gathering up the fabric of your sweater and pulling it over your head.

Carefully, you eased him over, kissing him as hard as you could, so that you were the one on top, your knees braced on either side of his slim hips.

Katsuki swore, pressing you down on him with a rough palm on your back, evidence of his interest hard between your thighs.

And that’s when you struck. Using his momentary distraction, you pulled the handcuffs from beneath your pillow, weaving them through the headboard. You grabbed his hands as firmly as you dared, pressing them up over his head.

Katsuki noticed what you were doing the second before the handcuffs snapped shut over his wrists.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, nerd?” he demanded, flexing against the tight hold. You watched with interest as his bicep pulled with the effort. “Unlock these or you’re in for it.”

You sat back on his hips, smirking down at him the way he usually did at you. Triumph swelled in your gut like a symphony.

“No, you’re in for it, Katsuki. What the absolute fuck did you think you were doing today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You think I was just gonna let you get away with throwing a tantrum on national television for no discernable reason?”

“That’s none of your business,” he ground out. A bright spark lit up the skin of his palm, a sharp crackle slicing into the silence of your room. “Now unlock these while I’m still asking nicely.”

You trailed absent fingers down the warm skin of his abdomen, watching appreciatively as the muscle tightened under your touch. Katsuki hissed out a sharp breath.

He might be threatening, but he ran the risk of blowing off his own hands if he resorted to using his quirk right now. You didn’t think he’d chance his own skin just to get out of this situation.

“I’m your manager and your girlfriend--it’s one hundred percent my business. You’re not getting out of those until you tell me what the hell you thought you were doing,” you promised darkly. You let your nails scrape over the skin of his hip, just under the band of his sweatpants.

You felt his hips shift in interest.

“You’re really asking for it, huh, princess?” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not gonna be gentle with you when I get out of this.”

“Keep avoiding the question and you’ll never get out of this,” you said. You let yourself lean over him, reveling in his minute intake of breath as you pressed a kiss over his neck. “You want something, I’ll give it to you. But only if you tell me why you did it.”

“It’s between me and that fucking slimeball and that’s all you need to know,” Katsuki snarled.

You let your teeth scrape over his skin, the way he usually did with you. “Not good enough,” you said.

Katsuki’s hips shifted again as you pressed back harder onto him. You felt your own abdomen coil tight with hot excitement at the unconscious little circles he was making. But you couldn’t be distracted--you had a mission to accomplish.

“Mind your damn business you fucking nerd,” he growled, defiant to the last.

Well, you hadn’t thought this was going to be easy.

“You are my business,” you informed him tritely. “And if you ever want me to take care of your business again, you’re going to tell me exactly what is going on.”

“Fuck,” he said instead. “You’re so hot when you get mouthy.”

“Not the answer I was looking for,” you told him. You shoved down the hot flush that tried to rise through you at his admission. Even years later, you were weak to his praise and he knew it.

He bucked a little under you, like he was unable to help himself. “Let me touch you, princess.”

“Still not an answer,” you intoned. You held very still, careful not to squirm like he was making you want to, even as his thrusts grew more deliberate.

If he would just hurry the fuck up and give you an answer, you both could be getting what you wanted. But everything had to be a production with him, as usual.

He was lucky he was so hot, and so charming on the rare occasion when he wanted to be, because he really was a piece of fucking work. You deserved some kind of sainthood for your service to him.

You slid forward on his chest a little when he gave a particularly strong thrust, bracing your hands over his sternum, and the abrupt show of strength had you clenching your thighs unthinkingly around him.

Katsuki’s mouth twisted in a savage grin, like he knew exactly how he was affecting you. “This is your last warning, princess. Let me out or you’re fucking in for it.”

You frantically schooled your features back into some form of haughty disregard, reaching down into your nightstand for the keys. You twirled them absently around your fingers.

“I don’t think you understand what kind of position you’re in,” you said firmly. “The only way you’re getting what you want is if you tell me what kind of stick that reporter stuck up your ass. Or maybe he didn’t, and you’re just being a fucking brat. Either way, you’re not in charge here--I am, and you are the one who’s in for it.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth, however, than the tang of hot metal met your nose. Katsuki’s savage smile was bordering on feral now. You looked up in alarm to see that above his head, he’d worked his palms over to press to each opposite wrist, but he wasn’t blowing through the cuffs like you’d known he couldn’t. Instead, he was melting them.

You swore, scrambling off of him. You threw yourself off the edge of the bed, racing for the door like the devil himself was behind you.

You weren’t fast enough.

The world upended, the white of your ceiling paint swirling up over your vision. The next thing you knew, you were thrown flat on your back in your bedding, bouncing a little from the impact against your mattress.

Katsuki braced himself over you, hands firm around your wrists, eyes alight with the challenge.

“You were saying, princess?” he asked smugly.

You wiggled underneath him, trying to work a leg underneath his hip to kick him off you the way you’d learned in self-defense. Katsuki just shifted into the cradle of your hips, huffing out a rough laugh.

“I fucking taught you that move, nerd. Think you’re gonna get me with it?”

His hips pressed forward, his body a hot line all along yours, and you suppressed a groan at the feel of him hard against your core.

“That’s right, princess,” Katsuki breathed, pressing his face into your shoulder to bite at your throat. “Now I’m going to remind you who’s in charge here, and you are going to be good for me and take every single thing that I give you.”

He gathered your wrists in one hand, reaching down with long fingers to work off your jeans.

You shivered in delight at the thought of his dark promises, but some other, more stubborn part of you resisted. You had a fucking job to do, and no way was he going to reroute you so he could get out of talking about things.

“You’re not giving me shit until you tell me exactly why you tried to blast some innocent reporter into the sun,” you said hotly.

Katsuki paid you no mind, too focused on pulling your jeans off over your ankle, so you leaned in and bit his shoulder.

“The fuck--?” he demanded, reeling back.

“I’m serious, Katsuki,” you said, irritation rising. “You tell me what is going on this second or it’s just you and your hand for the next month. I’m not fucking around.”

“He’s not some innocent reporter, he’s a piece of shit,” Katsuki said. His fingers worked at the clasp to your bra, like he thought that was enough of an answer.

“And you know this how?” you asked, trying to shift to crush his fingers underneath your shoulder.

He glared at you for a long moment, red eyes hot on your face, looking like he was strongly considering just abandoning the conversation altogether and stalking off to blow something up instead.

“I know,” he finally ground out, looking like every word cost him, “because I overheard him in the men’s room at the last Hero’s Gala.”

So you did know the reporter from the Hero’s Gala. A dim memory came to you of shaking his hand, leaning over to get Katsuki’s attention to get him an answer to some question he’d asked. You were fuzzy on the details, as you’d had other things to worry about that night--the Hero’s Gala had ended with Katsuki in some kind of mood with Kirishima, the arm of Kiri’s suit burnt off, and Katsuki had refused to say more on things. They’d patched things up almost immediately after so you hadn’t pried, but now you wondered if there wasn’t more to the story--more including this reporter.

“Overheard him what?” you asked.

Katsuki’s fingers resumed their questing, releasing the back of your bra with the ease of constant practice. You let him, considering he was still giving you answers.

“Overheard him fucking talking about you,” Katsuki growled, his fingers digging into your waist, his touch turning more possessive.

You froze. “What?”

“Saying the nastiest shit about how you looked in your dress, what he’d like to do with you if you didn’t already belong to me,” Katsuki said, sounding disgusted. “Wanted to incinerate him but fucking Kiri got in the way. Told me I’d lose my license if I attacked a civilian and he took me to court.”

“Which you would,” you pointed out, your tone going breathier than you wanted when Katsuki slid his fingers up to pluck at your nipple. “That--um--that was still the case today, too. What did you think you were doing?”

“Didn’t think,” he grunted, palming your breast. He didn’t look like he was thinking a lot now either, eyes turning on your chest with that single-minded focus he was famous for. “I just saw him and saw red.”

You were starting to see colors too--white, mainly, as Katsuki released your wrist to trail his other hand over your panties with obvious intention.

“Oh, um. Well I’m glad you didn’t kill him and have to lose your license,” you said, your breath hitching when Katsuki found his way into your underwear. “I’m gonna--have to--ah--thank Eijirou.”

“You belong to me,” Katsuki announced imperiously, leaning back in to bite at your throat again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with him, now. Instead, his words relit some fuse within you, your arousal sparking back to life behind your navel.

Katsuki’s fingers curled within you and you couldn’t hold back a pleased little noise, shifting your hips to allow him better access.

That was all the affirmation he needed. In mere minutes, he was working you up to the edge of your pleasure, fingers hot and skilled and exactly right inside you. He trailed soft bites and hot kisses all over your neck and shoulders, looking supremely satisfied with himself every time you caught sight of his face. His thumb worked tiny, maddening circles over your clit, just like he knew drove you fucking insane, and he had you writhing and squirming underneath him embarrassingly fast.

Soon, he was hitching your leg over a broad shoulder, sinking into you right where you wanted him.

“That’s right, princess. You’re mine. Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never forget it,” he promised, already working up to a brutal pace that left you short of breath.

Your vision swam as he ground into you. He leaned down to catch a nipple in his mouth, sucking softly, in sharp contrast to the wicked thrust of his hips.

“Look at you,” Katsuki said around your breast, scarlet gaze burning into yours. “Spread out and trembling. Look so fucking good for me, only for me.”

“Katsuki--ah!” you barely managed the syllables of his name.

“So fucking hot when you think you’re in control. So fucking mouthy--” his fingers brushed over your mouth “--I’m gonna fuck you so stupid you can’t even string together a sentence anymore.”

You rather thought he’d already achieved that, considering you could barely manage anything other than single syllable words now--nothing but there and more and please and oh!

Katsuki gave a particularly hard thrust, snarling your name--and your climax hit you like a truck.

You cried out, writhing, and his hands came up to hold you down against the mattress, still fucking into you hard like he meant to fuck the sense right out of you. He fucked you straight through your orgasm, and only when you were gasping from the aftershocks, shivering and near tears, did he follow you, flooding your insides with warm heat.

“That shut you right up, didn’t it, princess?” he said smugly as he rolled off of you, leaving another love bite over your shoulder on his way.

You groaned. It had been fucked up but kind of romantic that he’d attempted to murder a guy for you, but he was really killing the mood now.

“Is there anything that would shut you right up?” you replied, still catching your breath.

Unexpectedly, a smirk twisted your boyfriend’s mouth, and his hand trailed carefully down your thigh.

“There is, princess. Too bad it sounds like you can still string together a sentence,” he said, watching you intently.

You stared at him, wondering where he was going with this.

Until he moved, shifting backwards until his chin met your thigh, still watching you intently with those scarlet eyes.

“I can think of something that would fix both of those problems,” he said, his voice rough even as his hands came up to gently pry your thighs apart. “Now you have thirty seconds to call out of work tomorrow before I finish punishing you for that little show earlier.”

Your breath caught in your lungs again. You didn’t waste precious time defying him.

This time, you obeyed.

Deleted scene: What did Deku say to Bakugou that got him tackled over a buffet table at the Hero’s Gala?

[realcube]

BABYSITTING WITH HIM

characters ♡ oikawa, tendou & sakusa

tw ♡ children, cursing & mentions of arson

TŌRU OIKAWA

♡ he is pretty much a professional babysitter, or so he thought

♡ which is why he accepted when you asked if he could help you take care of your nieces/nephews for the weekend

♡ i mean, he takes care of his nephew all the time so how hard could babysitting possibly be? it was basically a free pass to spend the day with you 

♡ however, he began to regret his decision as he sat on your couch and realised that he wouldn’t be able to get even somewhat intimate with you when there was constantly an annoying little boy clinging to his arm, asking him if he had any games on his phone

♡ “sorry, kid.” oikawa smiled, clenching his jaw to hide the rage but it wasn’t very effective, “i’ve not got any games. maybe you could go play with your toys or something.” 

♡ he let out a sigh, making the mistake of thinking that would be the end of their interaction

♡ “can’t you just download some?” the boy retaliated

♡ you snickered, watching as the energy visibly drained from oikawa, yet he still wore his frighteningly bright grin

♡ “i’ve not got any storage.” 

♡ “then delete some of your apps or photos.” the boy said with a shrug, then proceeded to point at oikawa’s home screen, which happened to be a picture of him and you in front of an ethereal sunset, “start with that one. you both look like dorks.”

♡ you and oikawa’s unified gasps of offence were enough to show the boy that he was able to do exactly what he intended; piss y’all off

♡ hence, with a final mischievous snicker, he dashed off

♡ “i hate kids.” oikawa muttered, inspecting his homescreen to see if he really did look like a ‘dork’, “what is his problem?”

♡ “what if our kids turn out like that?” you joked 

♡ his eyes widened momentarily, turning to look at you with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression, “our w--”

♡ “mr kawa!” a cry could be heard from the kitchen so without hesitation, you both hopped to your feet and rushed over there as quick as you could 

♡ once you both reached the area the yell came from, you were fortunately not greeted by anything gruesome 

♡ instead, you both got to behold two children trying to reach the top shelf with the power on friendship; the taller boy was standing on a chair, while the toddler held it still 

♡ however, his grip on the jar of the Nutella must’ve loosened at some point as it now lay dejectedly on the ground, half spilled across the tiles and the other half drenching the toddler, not that they seemed to mind though 

♡ in fact, it looked like they were having the time of their — albeit, short — life

♡ the container was only plastic, hence you didn’t have to worry about shards when you darted over to the poor, chocolate-covered baby and scooped them up into your arms, “are you guys, okay?!”

♡ “yeah.” the boy chuckled, noticing that holding the toddler was transferring the chocolate onto you too

♡ “if you wanted nutella, you could’ve just asked.” oikawa sighed, helping the boy get down safely from the chair before putting the object back at it’s intended spot at the dinner table 

♡ “you could have gotten seriously hurt! i thought you would know better than to do something like this.” you scolded, becoming even more furious as the baby continued to playfully slap your face with their grimy hands, “please don’t do that again.”

♡ before they boy got the chance to do anything besides murmur a vague apology, oikawa interjected, “they won’t get the chance.”

♡ and he was right

♡ after cleaning everything up (including the child, which took forever), you didn’t let either of the rascals out of your sight until your duties as babysitters were complete 

♡ “i think we handled that pretty well.” oikawa mused, gathering his stuff along with you as you both got ready to leave

♡ “yeah, maybe we should do this again sometime.” you suggested, but it was followed by a few second was complete silence

♡ until you both burst out laughing 

♡ “yeah, never again.” you agreed

♡ “the kids can take care of themselves.” oikawa said with shrug, offering his hand to you, before you both strutted out of the disaster house

♡ ever since then, it was a common inside joke between you to, when in the vicinity of a kid causing mayhem or being a nuisance, whisper to each or exchange a look that says, ‘it’s a great day to not be babysitting.’  

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ at first, you thought that asking tendou for help babysitting would be a bad idea bc he is just as hyperactive as the damn kids sometimes so he’d probably not be the best influence 

♡ and you knew this bc one time you happened to run into him while out in the park with the kids and you asked him to watch them for literally a minute so you could run to the bathroom but when you came back all you almost had a heart attack because tendou was teaching them fkn tricks on the monkey bars 

♡ however, you then realised that if the kids were busy committing arson with uncle tendou, then they wouldn’t be bothering you 

♡ so here you are, playing monopoly with your boyfriend, a seven year-old and a one year-old

♡ well, it was less like monopoly and more like debate class since none of you could agree on the rules

♡ “well, uncle ten,” the older sibling began, in a very matter-of-factly tone, “if i burn your property down, then i  don’t have to pay you for landing on it.”

♡ “but then you also go to jail.” you pointed out

♡ “not if the police don’t catch me.”

♡ you burst out laughing, meanwhile tendou kept his business face on, “good point, but watch this.” tendou spoke as he rolled the dice, though no matter what if he got a number between four and seven, he would end up landing on somebody’s property

♡ he got a four

♡ picking up his piece, he moved it across each square individually and once he was due to land on your property, he knocked his piece over

♡ “whoops, i slipped.” he chuckled, though his friendly aura immediately dropped as he looked you dead in the eye and said, “i’m suing.”

♡ “you can’t sue me because you tripped!” you yelled 

♡ “i guess i just fell for you.” he said, resulting in the kids both making gagging noises before he stuck out his hand, “100 monopoly dollars, please.”

♡ “like i said,” you tried your best to stay strong and not laugh at his shitting pickup line, “i’m not giving you any money, you fell!”

♡ “i guess we’ll have to take this matter to court then.” tendou said, tapping the shoulder of the one year-old who was currently chewing on a 500 bill which you quickly had to confiscate 

♡ “judge, do you think (y/n) owes me 100 monopoly dollars for poor health and safety conduct?”

♡ “yes.”

♡ “that is the only word they know how to say!” you cried, begrudgingly handing over the money 

♡ “thank you, angel.” tendou cooed, adding your singular bill to the pile he had already stored up; the winner of the game had already been decided 

♡ and although you and the seven year-old kid both cried later after getting your asses kicked in monopoly (the one year-old cried too but they were just hungry), you all went out to get food and actually had a pretty good time

♡ it became a routine for tendou to help you babysit whenever he got the chance and y’all would always play table top games

♡ also when tendou got accepted into culinary school, he’d teach/show the kids what dishes he has learned to prepare and let them help by stirring the pot, adding spices etc etc

♡ and even when he moved to Paris, on special occasions, a box of chocolates would suddenly appear at the kids’ door and all the little pieces would be shaped and moulded into some of their favourite characters or made out of their favourite flavours 

♡ and at one point the kids even insisted that you teach them how to make chocolates so they can send some back to uncle tendou <33

♡ they weren’t the best, but when tendou received the misshapen, slightly stale chocolates at his apartment, addressed from you and the children, he cried

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

♡ his first response when you asked if he could help you babysit was ofc ‘ew no 🤢’

♡ needless to say it took a lot mansplain manipulate malewifing to convince him to come over 

♡ but once he did, obviously he was in his full protective gear; there was no way in hell he was going to catch whatever germs the little goblins have

♡ honestly he almost sprayed a chid in the face with hand sanitizer when they came running up to him with open arms, trying to give him a hug 

♡ which was unusual because the kids don’t tend to be overly friendly with new people, but you just brushed it off and figured that sakusa must’ve been an exception

♡ during his time babysitting, sakusa spend most of his energy trying to avoid the children at all costs that it basically became a game of tag, with you helping the child try to reach sakusa, and him hiding

♡ but honestly you couldn’t complain since the whole time the child was playing, they were safe with you rather than playing with fire 

♡ until later you were reminded of their odd fondness for sakusa when they insisted that sakusa carry them to their bedroom when it was their nap time

♡ and as you were shifting through the books, looking for a story to read, it hit you why they seemed to be so familiar with sakusa

♡ it’s because he looked exactly like the prince in one of their favourite story books; same hair, both tall and they even had similar moles to each other

♡ upon noticing this, you immediately showed sakusa and was quite amused

♡ in fact, he found it so cute that he gave both you and the toddler a lil’ kiss on the cheek, as a parting gift — mask off and everything

♡ he ended up reading the story and the kid fell into deep slumber by the time he reached the second page

♡ letting out a sigh of relief, sakusa slumped onto the ground, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “what a day.”

♡ you shuffled over to you could lay down beside him, “indeed it was, prince sakusa.”

♡ “shut up.” he teased, poking your rib slightly before absently intertwining his fingers with your own

♡ next thing you knew, you were both awakened by the sound of a grumpy toddler...

[lolishdes]

❝Even for an Eternity Shall I Wait❞

✧Warning: Spoilers about the Archon quest and Zhongli's backstory.

Prev. Navigation. Next Chap.

Chapter 5.

The golden horizon shines bright down the little town that resides by the north. Roosters and chickens within their coop would loudly crow, alarming the residents of the new day that comes upon them. The smell of fresh bread and the clattering of the shops as they prepare for the day.

After yesterday's fiasco, Y/N’ s parents decided that it's best if they gave their daughter some time and space to come to terms with her future. Yet even with the hours of rest, the flaming fury within her hasn't completely  fused. Currently, she is out and about in the streets to get her mind to other things, rather than focusing on her emotions. 

As ever, the familiar faces within the streets and shops would recognize the young lady, greeting her with good mornings and politeness while she too does the same to them.

When the young girl has time to spare, she finds herself visiting her favorite shop , which is located by the corner and its outside has been decorated and placed with unique flowers. Y/N beams in delight, as she enters the shop and is greeted with the lovely smell of all kinds of scents from the flowers that were on display. Different antiques of vases were used to place the plants, while the sunlight perfectly shines down onto the shop.

Y/N approaches the front table where the owner should be, however that wasn't the case for the owner could not be seen anywhere, it was complete silence. Strange, usually she would be here tending to the flowers and watching over the shop. Y/N thought. 

Occupied, she never seemed to notice that a man had entered the shop. Putting aside his straw hat, he looked up at the lady “Excuse me, may I ask for your assistance?” This beckoned Y/N to turn around however the stool wasn't sturdy enough and so she was about to either collide with the floor or the customer. Fast he was, the man was quick in acting and catched her before any disaster would come upon them. And it was there when she saw him.

She shakes her head “Since it seems she isn't here, I'll watch over the shop until she has returned.” She told herself as she took a nearby apron and a duster to start cleaning some parts of the shop, specifically the shelfs and upper cabinets, for in fact it was quite dusty and the owner usually cleans these corners around this early in the morning.

A dashing young man, with long brown locks and piercing golden eyes, staring down at her, the sense of familiarity hitting her. For a moment it was like time had stopped and the universe has given them time to immerse in each other's gaze. However this was short lived as the gentleman spoke first, with a husky yet smooth voice he asked “Are you alright, miss?”  Y/N’s eyes widened as she was quick to get off his grasp. “Oh, my apologies! I do not mean to offend you, sir.”  Y/N bows as she apologizes to the customer, her face was beat red from the embarrassment she had caused. 

The man was surprised by her, he gave a low chuckle “It is alright young miss, such accidents are unexpected, no need to fret.” He reassures her, having a hand around politely. Just as Y/N looked back up, the owner of the shop finally returned “Dear archons, I hope- Ah! Y/N you've come!”  

The middle aged lady moves across the shop and back to her counter, chanting multiple apologies and blabbering about. “Please excuse my tardiness, I had urgent business that I needed to attend to immediately. Anyhow, I digress, Mr. Zhongli, are you here to pick up the herbs you have requested?”  Y/N  turns to the man.

So that's his name. What a lovely name, Zhongli. Y/N thought as she kept chanting his name in her head. Unaware that she continues to stare at him. “Yes, I have come here to pick them up, have they finally arrived?”  She nodded and went to the back of her shop to fetch the herbs. 

The man blinks and directs his attention back at Y/N. “Perhaps there may be something on my face that bothers you?”  Y/N perks up and backs away slightly “Ahaha, no no of course not. I was just lost in my train of thought, I didn't notice I was staring at you for too long.”  The middle aged woman came back with Zhongli’s herbs and handed it to him with care. “Here they are, please come back here again Mr. Zhongli! Now, is there anything you need Y/N? Or have you come here just to spend time with the flowers again?” She teased, Y/N grumbled “What's so wrong in admiring the flowers? Also, don't make me sound like I have no friends.”  Y/N responded, a little irritated.

As the two ladies were conversing, Zhongli was about to head back to the inn, however he ‘forgot’ the location of said inn. He turns back at the two women “Excuse me, maam. But is it alright if you could assist me once again in directing me to the inn?”  The owner furrowed her eyes. “I wish I could Mr. Zhongli, however I’ll be waiting for a certain customer to pick up their delivery…” Just then, an idea came to her mind. 

“Y/N darling, is it alright with you if could assist Mr. Zhongli? After all, you're quite familiar with the town.” The florist pleads for Y/N’s approval, fortunately she doesn't need much convincing. “Alright alright, it's not too much of a hassle anyhow.” Y/N takes off the apron she wore and wiped off some dust off her attire. “Alright Mr. Zhongli, shall we?”  The young man nodded and took his straw hat by the doorway. Once the pair was ready, they headed off to the streets.

“I'll be back!” Y/N shouted out before leaving, the florist just waved goodbye while a sly grin on her face. “Oh you youngsters, you can't fool my eyes.”  she giggled, identified the obvious interest of the pair for each other.

©️ All content belongs to lolishdes 2021. Please refrain from reposting (reblogs are appreciated !).

[tenthgrove]

If you're not busy then may i please have the la squadra boys having their lives saved by s/o? Like from a hostile stand user for example

The Rescue

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Romantic, SFW

Formaggio- Honestly the fact he hasn't had more near death experiences is edging on a miracle at this point. Formaggio treats mission plans as loose suggestions at best, frequently trying things on a whim where the risk is far higher than the reward. So it's only a few weeks into your relationship that you find yourself rescuing your hapless lover, saving him from being squished by a target he just insisted on hiding using his sleeve to hide it. Formaggio is in a slight state of shock as you carry him away from the scene, repeating breathlessly how glad he is you came for him. There's no way this is going to put an end to Formaggio's reckless ways for good, but it will certainly give him food for thought.

Illuso- Illuso's stand certainly makes the art of assassination safer for him than perhaps anyone else in the team. He can escape any danger by leaping into the nearest shiny thing, and avoiding perilous stand fights is as simple as not giving the stand entry. That said, he sometimes puts a bit too much faith in the ability of his stand to save him, and behaves recklessly as a result. When you took out the second target he'd forgotten about, seconds before a bullet could be fired at his head, Illuso yelped. He had no idea the mark was so close to him. Illuso spends the car ride home blubbering frantically about how he'd sworn the man would be too confused to escape the area he'd left him in and there was no way Illuso could have predicted it. He still thanks you though, many times.

Prosciutto- This should never had happened. Prosciutto doesn't do mistakes. He's a master of his trade, an expert in dealing with every potential eventuality of a hit. He's meant to be the one saving the asses of newbies like you when it comes to dangerous missions like this one. When one of the targets figured out the ice trick and managed to last long enough against GD to almost get the jump on him, Prosciutto saw his life flash before his eyes. He'd been saved by you, his apprentice. What has his life come to? Prosciutto gives you a flustered nod in acknowledgement of your actions, before hurrying himself along with checking the targets' vital signs so you can both get out of here. He says no more on the event until after you're home and in private. He apologises for his carelessness and thanks you profusely, before gifting you the most tender kiss of your life.

Pesci- He isn't stupid, he knows the risks this occupation brings forth but that doesn't make him hate them any less. In spite of his low confidence Pesci is truly a prodigy, and mistakes are less common than you might think. That doesn't make it any less terrifying when a target manages to nick him in the chest with their knife right before Beach Boy does them in. Your panic is greater than his, dashing over to see to his injuries without a second's hesitation. It soon becomes clear the wound poses no threat to Pesci's life as long as it's given some basic care, but the fear he felt before that was known to you was real enough. Pesci hugs you very tight, words of thanks spilling from his mouth as you lie on the target's living room floor. You end up staying there so long that Prosciutto comes inside to see what the hell is holding you too up. Pesci doesn't care about the telling off, he's just thankful to you for saving him.

Melone- His job is precarious and he knows it. Seeking out the most aggressive hosts possible often goes about as well as you'd expect, and even if he survives them, it's always possible the target could track him down while he's busy training his hell-spawn to do something about them. Perhaps Melone should except the others' offers to guard him more often, but on this occasion, he was just lucky you're nearby. As Melone seizes up in terror, you run up behind the target and finish them off in one blow, leaving Melone alive to tell the tale. After a brief moment of shock, he calms down enough to give you the reward you deserve, approaching you languidly before placing a kiss on your cheek.

Ghiaccio- He never expected to be the one saved by you. In raw power alone he's the team's best warrior, the one they send when the enemy's stand is too powerful for the likes of Risotto to confidently counter. The thought he let his guard down enough to need saving by you feels him with great shame, and he goes uncharacteristically quiet after this happens. You can tell he's angered, from the brutal way he smashes the remaining targets into shards of ice. But either way he's not speaking up about it. That doesn't change when the two of you get home, but the rest of his behaviour does. With a look of almost fear on his face, he throws off the covers of your bed and pulls you into it, before curling into a ball, hugging you tight. You know in your heart, he is thankful.

Risotto- No. He should have been the one protecting you. He is your captain, your mentor and your lover. You shouldn't have to worry about saving him from some petty mistake when you have your own life to worry about. All he can think about when you finish the target off is whether you'll ever believe him again when he promises to protect you. Clearly he isn't fit for it. Deep down, Risotto knows these thoughts are unreasonable- everyone slips up on missions once in a while and even he can't expect to be perfect. But he beats himself up so much for failing like this he just can't see reason. He is very rueful on the way home. Once you are in the privacy of your room, you see to his injuries while he spills his apologies for how stupid he was. You silence him with a kiss, and he understands.

Sorbet and Gelato- The most experienced assassins on the team may be no strangers to risk, but it's for a reason. With as many years under the trade as they have they can afford to be a little reckless, with the skills to counter anything that might come their way. When one of their gambles doesn't pay off, saved from disaster only by you're intervention, they're a little embarrassed, a little shell-shocked, but very, very proud. You really have come so far in such a short time, haven't you. It warms their heart to know they've helped create something so powerful in you, and now look at you, saving their asses. Even though they're injured, they take you home and fuss over your own state first, cleaning you up and urging you to rest. Don't worry about them- they're absolutely fine. All thanks to you.

[spinster-sisters]

Precious. JYN

restaurant worker! au (idk its just gengeral slice of life)

TW: size kink (this is yunho we are talking about) boob stuff (this is me we are talking about, praise, dom! yunho, sub! reader. there is some unwanted inappropriate touching done by an older guy but it doesnt last long.

WC: 5k

-

The very first thing you noticed about the restaurant you now worked at was how hot the manager interviewing you was. Yeah, you had worked with conventionally attractive people before, but most of them found a way to make themselves unappealing through words or actions. Not Yunho however, a month into working as a waitress you had to simply conclude that there was nothing not to love about him. Of course, he was dashing, that much was obvious, but it was so much more than that, he was unbelievably considerate of others and fiercely protective of his crew, he had a million-dollar smile and could charm his way out of any problem with a customer. Not to mention he was built like a God with both the height and muscles to make your mouth water. Yunho was lucky, and things just seemed to fall into place around him.

Of course, you were aware of this, as he made it impossible to forget.

As time progressed you became more accustomed to your coworkers and better at your job, soon you found a place in the tight-knit group of friends that worked together so work was usually fun.

Except for today. You have been at this job for 6 months now and somehow, with the exception of Yunho, you found yourself on a shift solely staffed by newbies without a clue. And it was a very busy night. You had lost count of the number of times one of your fellow waiters had to call you over to answer a guest question or how many times it was you who had to apologize to them for their server's mistake but it was starting to get to you.

You had a brief moment right in the middle of dinner service where all of your tables were eating happily and you would have a moment to rest. You knew that if you stood there for a moment longer you would be called over by one of the other waiters so you quickly made your way over to the bar where Yunho stood at the POS system. You used his size as an advantage and literally hid behind him. Of course, people could still see you, but at least you weren't standing directly in front of the waiter's station where you would surely be bothered.

You heard the man laugh quietly, and though you couldn't see his face you bet he was hiding a smile.

"Rough night?" He questioned, talking in a way as not to draw attention to you.

"Of course I would get stuck on a shift like this. Not a single person on the crew tonight knows what they're doing! I'm surprised you're even here, I thought the gods of the universe loved you too much" you finished your mini-rant in a mumbling tone, rubbing your eyes before looking out into the dining room just in time to watch the newest crew member, a thin gangly boy named Trevor, spill a glass of water all down the front of an older woman, and you groaned.

Yunho chose to laugh quietly again before speaking up, knowing that now that there was a new disaster your conversation would be cut short once the newbie found you.

"Don't be so hard on them, you were that stupid when you first started," he joked before looking back down at his screen.

"No, I was not!" You cried, "besides why is everyone bothering me? You're the manager shouldn't you be dealing with angry customers? That is above my pay grade." You finish as soon as the young waiter spotted you and began to make his way over.

"Because I told them to," Yunhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why would you do that?" You asked thoroughly annoyed. Coming out from behind the man as Trevor was about halfway across the dining room.

Yunho laughed his brightest laugh. The one that made your stomach swirl with butterflies. He turned finally and looked directly at you, just before the waiter was in earshot he spoke,

"Because you're cute when you're grumpy,"

And that is another thing about Yunho that was impossibly unfair. The man was a relentless flirt. And that wasn't just to you, anytime he made eye contact with anyone it's like he can't hold back the wink.

Finally, your peak time was over. After the incident with the water, the rest of the rush seemed to pass without a problem. There were only about two more hours till you could crawl back into the warmth of your bed and give your feet a real rest.

You had just finish bussing a table when the door chimed again. You could hear the host talking from where you were standing, and her words made your heart sink.

"Well of course Mr. Miller! You want your regular table I'm guessing,"

And then the reply in a groveling tone,

"She better be here tonight, I am starting to think she avoiding me,"

The "she" in question was you. And yes you were. Mr. Miller was a middle-aged sleazy man who came in close to close every Friday night demanding that you serve him. For the past few weeks you have asked Yunho if you could have Fridays off like he did, but due to some call-outs both of you had to come in.

You highly considered running to the back and feigning illness to go home, but it was too late.

"There she is!" The gargley voice called out. Admitting defeated you finally turned to look at him, and with the biggest fakes smile, you could muster you replied.

"Hey, Mr. Miller,"

From the moment he sat down he was already laying it on thick.

"Well, aren't you looking as nice as ever? Some might think you trying something," he winked at you. You had to hold back your vomit. The man was and had been since the moment he first sat at your table 6 months ago that you were his alone, if you spent too much time at another table instead of entering him he would throw a fit. If you didn't laugh at one of his jokes about your body he would throw some line like "come on, give me a smile." If you didn't fully play into the delusion that you were interested in him he would push even harder. And he didn't even tip.

So you played along "Well you know me, I always gotta look my best for you," you said trying to be friendly to appease him, but already knowing damn well that tonight he was going to be insufferable.

You took his drink order and escaped from him as quickly as you could. The other thing you hated about him was how long he stayed. Well after he finished his meal he would stick around for a while watching you. So you weren't even surprised when you felt his eyes on your body as you walked away.

Yunho was observing this interaction from afar completely confused. Friday was one of Yunho's days off every week so he had never seen this before, and he must have looked confused because the host had walked over to him to explain.

"It's weird, right? A child could see how much she hates him but every Friday he comes absolutely convinced that it's her favorite day of the week."

It was getting late, and there were barely any customers left in the dining room when you finally took his empty dinner plate from his table. Not that he was ready to leave yet.

"You know, I've been thinking" he starts before you can walk away, "how does someone as pretty as you end up working at a place like this?" He asks peering at you from over his glass of water.

"Well a girls gotta pay rent," you reply with the fakest giggle ever.

"If I had you, you wouldn't have to work a day in your life," he said, "what do you say, honey, you could quit this place for good," he asked setting his water down and grinning at you dangerously. This scared you. You couldn't help but let your smile falter for a moment, this you couldn't encourage.

"I don't know," was all you could say trying your hardest to make it all seem like a joke. You instinctively step back from the table. In a brief moment, you noticed his hand moving twords your body but it was too late, he had already put his bent fingers on your leg and gripped it.

"Come on, you know I could treat you right."

You physically recoiled but his grip was strong. You were legitimately terrified. He had suggested on a few occasions before that he would wait for you in his car after you close and watched you, he knew which car was yours and could easily follow you. It was clear he didn't take no for an answer.

You didn't know what to do, you simply stood there petrified with the man's grimy hand moving up your leg. Just when it was going to reach the hem of your uniform skirt you were pulled away behind the familiar height of Jung Yunho.

"Sir if you touch any of my employees again I will have you kicked out." Gone was the playful tone that permeated Yunhos normal speech. Instead, he was icy and cold no room for negotiation in his voice. But that didn't stop Mr. Miller from trying.

"Calm down son, me and my favorite girl were just having a polite conversation." He said looking at where you were peeking out from behind Yunho, clearly expecting you to back him up. Instead, you looked anywhere but at him.

"No sir, you were visibly harassing one of my waitresses. it is inappropriate to talk to anyone that way much less if they are working and unable to walk away. If you leave now there will be no further issue." He said, still trying to speak civilly despite his growing agitation. In your desperation to not look at the man you glanced around the room. All eyes, both employe, and patron were staring directly at you. This made it so much worse and chose to look directly at Yunho's side profile.

"Who are you to tell me what to do! I am a paying customer and a loyal patron. I will talk to whom I please!" The older man's voice began to rise clearly not liking the way this conversation was going.

"That girl behind you has been my waitresses for 6 months and if I want to touch her I will!" You heard a fist slam on the table. You jumped and Yunho pulled you farther behind himself. You couldn't help but fist the back of his shirt in terror when you heard the scrape of a chair on the floor. Mr. Miller was now standing, trying his hardest to get in Yunho's face despite how the younger man towered over him.

"If you don't walk away right now ill beat your ass boy!" Miller screamed, getting as close as possible to Yunho. You practically cowered into Yunho's back, still clinging onto the fabric of his black dress shirt like you would physically unravel if you let go.

Yunho stood stoic while the man yelled. Afterward, he took a pause, before speaking.

"Trevor, call the police and tell them we have a customer harassing our staff and threatening violence." He spoke with a defining certainty, no room for an argument from Trevor or Mr. Miller.

Yunho's gentle hand took hold of your upper arm to lead you away from the man. He turned you away from where he stood dumbfounded, and lead you back into the office, and locked the door.

Yunho lead you to one of the two chairs in the cramped room fumbled around for a bit with the water cooler, bringing you a small paper cup to drink from before finally taking a seat himself. The room was small, from the way you were sitting and Yunho's long limb his knees brushed against your own.

You stared and him and he did the same to you, neither saying a word. The man before you looked remarkably calm for the ordeal he just faced but based on the concern in his eyes you looked shaken. You hadn't realized you were crying till the drops landed on the shaky hand still grasping the paper cup for fear of life.

"Please don't cry" was all he said at first. He was silent for a moment but your tears didn't stop. He shifted a bit and the knee touching your own brushed the outermost part of your thigh. He sighed.

"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad he was? Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke calmly. He didn't sound mad in the slightest but his words brought a dry sob from your lips. He looked almost scared for a second before correcting himself in a pleading tone.

"Please don't think I blame you in the slightest. What happened was not your fault," one large hand came to rest almost timidly on your leg.

"I just wish I could have stopped this before it happened."

-

It has been a few weeks since the incident. News of what had happened had spread around the staff quickly and although Mr. Miller had fled the restaurant before the police arrived, everyone on the crew knew that he was not allowed on the premises and if his car so much as pulled into the parking lot the police assured us that he would be escorted off the property for trespassing.

Yunho had insisted that you take the next 5 days off afterward and even when you returned everyone was walking on eggshells around you, not wanting to do anything to upset you.

The closest circle of team members made it a point to have outings every so often as many of you were quite close outside of work, and although some of them (with your best interest at heart) didn't think you should come out, it was once again Yunho who advocated that spending time alone in your apartment would do you no good. So here you were at approximately 9 o'clock outside a small bar/club getting excited about your first night of relaxation since that day.

Once you found your way into the building it wasn't hard to spot your group. Many of them were already drunk from pre-gaming and the rest of them were well on the way. It brought a fond smile to your face. When you joined the group there were cries of excitement and soon you all fell into the groove of the evening.

You had noticed Yunho the moment you walked in because he seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch. Of course, he knew how to party better than anyone, but tonight he seemed satisfied to just watch the rowdiness unfold.

You weren't drinking cuz of the practical reason that you drove yourself here today. After making your rounds talking with every one of your friends you found yourself gravitating to Yunho as you always seemed to do. He was sitting in a circular booth so it was easy to slide in next to him.

"Not drinking tonight?" You asked.

"No. Someones gotta keep an eye on these crazy people" he replied as jovial as always, instead taking a sip of what appeared to be coke.

"Well I guess I will have to help you then"

After a few hours of talking happily with Yunho while also keeping a close eye on your friends, you found yourself, once again knee to knee with Yunho. Except this time instead of sitting in front of him, you were almost sitting on top of him. You honestly had no clue how this happened, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, Yunho himself was now sitting with his long arm wrapped across your shoulders pulling you even closer to his side.

"YUNHO" one of your fellow waiters fell into the space beside you, but with their lack of coordination they ended up bumping into you enough that if Yunho hadn't pulled you fully into his lap you would have toppled onto the floor underneath the table. But once the crowd of crewmembers was alerted of your guys' presence they all simultaneously pushed into the booth so there was no room to sit back in your spot.

You were blushing now, thankful that your friends were too drunk to notice how Yunho's arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you securely in place. As the talking resumed Yunho leaned down to whisper into your ear,

"This is all right? I can get them to move if you want," though it was probably unintentional Yunhos breath was sending shivers down your spine, which only got stronger when you finally came to realize how much larger he was then you, effortlessly keeping your body snugly against his chest tight enough to feel each breath he took, the hand wrapped on your waist was large enough to palm your whole thigh if he wanted to. And that thought was exciting.

"No, I'm fine," though you sounded a bit shaky you snuggled yourself even further back onto his lap to show your appreciation. He chuckled lowly in your ear before returning to the conversation. But your mind could not be further from it. You had never realized before how incredibly safe you felt with Yunho or more specifically in his arms and chose to instead focus on the weight of his hand on you, the subtle shifting of his thighs underneath your own as he spoke, and the deep rumble that moved your body with his own every time he laughed.

When it came time for everyone to go home you didn't want to. You didn't like the idea of removing yourself from Yunho's lap at all. But alas, it had to be done.

As the two sober friends, you two were talked with calling cabs and making sure everyone got home safely. Until finally the two of you stood alone on the pavement. You felt the need to say something.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," you said turning to face the man in the cold air. He turned his body twords you as well.

"You don't need to thank me for sitting on my lap, trust me the pleasure was all mine," he joked, and you couldn't help but chuckle along with him.

"You know that's not what I meant," you said in a small voice.

"You don't need to thank me for that either, trust me," his big smile turning smaller but sweeter. This confused you.

"What do you mean?"

Yunho sighed with a smile.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," was all he said. But your confused face brought more words out of him. He took a step closer to you leaning down and speaking in a quiet voice he said,

"You, have always been very precious to me, and that day was no different. I would go to much greater lengths to keep you safe if I had to,"

His words, although spoken in the softest tone struck you straight through the heart. You had always dreamed of being with Yunho but you had never imagined he felt the same way. He took another step, leaving almost no room between you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. Words weren't forming so you chose to nod instead.

It only took a beat longer for him to lean down and press his plush lips into your own. Yunho wasn't one to beat around the bush and put all of his passion into the kiss, leading your lips with his own guiding your mouth to respond exactly as he wished.

You put your hands on his firm chest as his other arm circled your waist bringing you in even closer. Your mouths were so intertwined neither of you dared to break the kiss for quite a while, simply enjoy the feeling, but soon the need for oxygen won out. You pulled apart gasping, but still holding each other close.

-

You're not quite sure how exactly you ended up back at your apartment but that was unimportant, what mattered was keeping your mouth on Yunho's. You two had barely gotten through the door before your back was pressed against it in a quick motion.

Along with his considerable height, Yunho also had considerable strength, so when leaning down for you became uncomfortable he chose to instead wrap your legs around his waist and lift you.

In this new position, you were at the perfect height to move his lips to your neck. He found the perfect spot on it before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin, nibbling it a bit before licking it soothingly. The wet feeling of his tongue pulled a new sound from your lips,

"Yunho!" You whined into his ear.

He seemed overjoyed at this reaction and desperate to recreate it he rolled his hips into yours. You could feel his hard length pressing oh so perfectly into your clothed slit you desperate cry could probably be heard three doors down. The man was big.

"You sound so cute" Yunho giggled into your jaw, before pressing a sweet kiss into the skin.

One of his large hands slipped below the hem of your shirt and moved up to the cup of your bra. His long fingers groped your plush breast, holding the whole thing in his hand. The warmth of his fingers and the pleasant squeeze had you whining once again.

"Your so sensitive baby," he remarked, giving your breast another squeeze. In an attempt to keep your noises contained you reached out and pulled his head to meet your lips again. This kiss was much more desperate than the others both of your lips moving so fast it was hard to keep up, your teeth clacking together in the process. Yunho rolled his hips into yours again and you squealed into his lips.

Keeping you as firmly planted on the kiss as possible Yunho's hand fell from your chest back to your hips before pulling you completely off the wall and your arms instinctively clung to his broad shoulders.

Your apartment was only one bedroom so Yunho had bo problem blindly navigating the way to your bedroom. As soon as the door was open you were practically flung backward onto your bed. In an instant Yunho found his way onto your bed, once his back was pressed into the headboard Yunho took hold of your body and manhandled you onto his lap facing him, you were once again faced with just how big Yunho was. Both of his arms wrapped around your body pulling you close and positioning your heat directly over his dick, where an impressive tent in his jeans rubbed directly into you. The loose skirt you were wearing did nothing to cover your panties. You kneed into him finally taking the initiative to grind down repeatedly onto him.

"Awe, baby you look so cute like this, all flustered and needy. Look you're making a mess on me." You hadn't noticed how wet you were until this point but he was right, you were completely soaked through the thin material of your underwear, and with each roll of your hips, you were dampening his jeans.

"Yunho," you begged "please touch me,"

"But you look so good like this. I could watch this all day. Sitting pretty on my lap, just waiting for me to fuck you."

"Please?" You cried still desperately chasing the friction his jeans were giving your clit. He flashed his million-dollar smile before giving in, slipping one veiny hand into your panties cupping your whole heats in his hand for a moment, wetting his fingers before sliding two long digits into you. You showed your appreciation in a moan and clung to his broad shoulders again.

"Please Yunho! I want more. Please fuck me." You begged.

"Not yet, baby, I gotta open you up first. Don't want to hurt you do I." As he spoke he speaks the pace of his fingers scissoring them open inside of you stretching you wider. You bucked into his hand.

"My little baby is fucking herself into my hand. How cute," your exhaled loudly then dropped your head onto his shoulder tugging at his shirt begging him to remove it. Yunho chose to first use his free hand to slide your own top of your body before taking hold of your neck and pulling your upper body away from his. With your help eventually, his shirt was pulled from him leaving your view of his beautiful chest and bulging muscles open to admire.

You almost forgot about the hand moving inside of you while you ran your own up and down the Yunho's chest, trying to feel every bump and ridge there was. Your eyes were glazing over in wonder, but you were soon brought back to reality when another finger pushed inside of you, joining the others in your pulsing pussy. Your head rolled back in a moan.

"Like what you see baby? Because I am really enjoying this view." You were sitting so pretty on his lap your skirt had been pushed up and your soaked lacy panties matched your bra perfectly. In all the movement your chest was starting to spill out of your bra.

"Baby you look so fucked out and small right now and I haven't even done anything yet, are you sure you need me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.

"Yunho, please," your nails began dragging down his golden skin leaving a trail of red lines, "please, please fuck me." Spewed past your lips. A wicked smile graced his lips.

"You want me to fuck you into the mattress?" He asked.

"Yes! Please!" This was almost embarrassing but if anything your flushed tone only made him happier.

"No, I don't think I will." He said pulling his finger out of you.

You whined.

Yunho undid his belt pushing his pants down just enough to pull his expressive length out of his boxers. You watched with bated breath as he stroked himself a few times before meeting your eyes.

"How about you ride me instead?"

You nodded eagerly almost lunging forward. Yunho helped support your body as you hovered over him, before lining you up and pulling your body down onto him. The stretch was painful at first, you could feel him deeper than anyone else had ever reached but you clenched down on him appreciatively. You took a moment to gather yourself, half expecting him to thrust into you, but he stayed perfectly still. You meet his eyes with your own going wide and he giggled.

"I'm not moving baby if you want to get fucked you have to do it yourself." As he spoke he pulled both hands off you, resting them on his thighs.

You sat breathless for a second longer, unable to form a coherent thought, but the sudden twitch of his dick inside you brought you back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely you began moving, lifting yourself till only his tip was inside you before falling back down. You both groaned satisfied but it only lasted a second before you repeated the action, and then again, and again, slowly building speed each time and realizing quite moans every time he filled you up completely.

You had now set a fast pace, you were unsure how long you could keep it but the growing pleasure filling your abdomen kept you moving. Yunho's eyes were trained on you, switching from your blessed out face, to your bouncing tits, to where his long dick was disappeared into your cunt each time it reappeared coated in your juries.

"Baby, if only you could see yourself right now," he spoke over the sounds of skin slapping and pretty moans, "honestly you look good enough to eat sweetheart"

His words of praise-filled your ears and encouraged you to move faster, desperately clenching on his dick feeling it twitch return along with his deep rumbling groan. Your hands were still firmly planted on his chest and you used this grip for support trying once again to increase your pace. Your thighs were beginning to burn but it felt too good to stop, not when you were this close.

"Yunho, please help me," you whined, your legs faltering in their attempt to keep moving.

"Oh? But you're doing so well baby," he said with an adoring smile watching your face.

"Please Yunho?" you asked running your palms down the ridges of his chest once again. Your building pleasure had started to plateau as you couldn't keep up the pace, your thighs starting to burn even harder. You were so close but you couldn't put yourself over the edge and if growing moans from the man in front of you were anything to go by then he was right there with you.

He seemed to consider this for a moment before chuckling.

"I guess my baby is just not strong enough to make herself cum. I suppose I could help with that."

You only had time to breathe a sigh of relief before you were thrown back onto the covers. Yunho's large frame loomed over you with a sinister smirk. You barely registered the anticipation in your body before he slammed his entire length back into you. Setting a brutal pace. You cried out instantly and your voice rang through the walls of the apartment like a symphony.

Each time Yunho's hips connected with your own he hit that perfect spot inside of you bringing more noises from you. One of his hands came down onto the mattress beside your head and the other took hold of your thigh using it to maneuver you into the exact position he wanted.

Now Yunho was grunting along with you trying hurtling both of your twords your orgasms at an incredible pace. Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge Yunho connected your lips again swallowing your moans. It only took one more perfectly timed thrust before you came toppling over the edge. Although your lips were still connected, it didn't do much to help the lewd sounds spilling out of you. The pleasure came from your core in waves, arching your back and making your legs twitch violently.

Not long after you came down from the high your body began pulling away from Yunho's thrust but he held you in place.

"Just a little longer baby, I promise."

And just when the buzzing pain of overstimulation subsided, Yunho filled pulled out of you and spilled his sticky cum across your body. He stood above you for a moment, you both were panting but you were clearly the more worn out of the two.

Yunho's eyes moved across your whole body once before meeting your own eyes.

"Your precious"

[teamxdark]

He’s Not Here

More masquerade content but what’s this at the end???

In the grand castle ballroom, surrounded by soft golden light and the countless nobles clad in shimmering fabric, King Arthur was so bored he could cry.

This wasn’t what this night should have been; it was a masquerade party, an opportunity to hide away his identity and mingle among the people 一 okay, the nobility, but he would take what he could get 一 like he was a person instead of a king. Finally he had a chance to dance around until his legs ached, to eat food without worrying about the repercussions to his image should he dare speak with his mouth full or use the wrong spoon, to hold conversations that weren’t about politics or finances or how he was doing the best-or-worst job looking after an entire kingdom with a myriad of people with different needs and opinions. 

So how was it that, out of everyone in that room, he was stuck listening to some dull-voiced stag drone on and on about the rising price of grain?

“This is why pricing is tricky, you have to account for the pests before you ship it out and…”

Arthur fought the urge to dash away, but the instant he tried, he knew he would give himself away. His speed was renowned throughout the land, alongside his golden armor and brilliant blue spines. Those, at least, he had taken care of; Merlina had spent the better part of an hour adjusting his coloring to a warm orange and growing out his spines to disguise him beyond the limits of a simple mask. She had tried so hard to give him a chance to have a night off without people instantly worrying for his favor or trying to get something from him… only for him to be trapped all over again.

Arthur would have happily made an excuse to leave, if the stag would only let him get a single word in. His conversation “partner” seemed not to need to breathe, droning on and on in an endless monotone, offset by the cheerful music and bright lights and flashy costumes.

I’ll never be free of this.

“And now that the price is rising, it leaves me in a strange spot, you see. On the one hand, I sympathize with the people who cannot afford my wares, but on the other hand, it means more profit for myself and my own family.”

Chaos above, Arthur wished he hadn’t bumped into this man. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg, mildly quelling the urge he had to just flee, to drop everything and everyone he had ever known and flee into the night and into the unknown.

“Not to mention, the cost of labor--”

“Mind if I cut in?”

Arthur’s head snapped over to the new voice, endlessly relieved at the interruption, though the stag continued to drone on, the odious voice still grating his ears even as the king faced the bold newcomer.

It was a tiger clad in elegant black clothing with silver accents, extending a hand out to him, and even though Arthur was eager to take it and be whisked away from this living nightmare, something about him made him take pause. His eyes took in the white fur streaked with blue, the slowly flicking tail that reminded him of Sir Percival 一 was it common among all cats? 一 and the eyes looking gently back at him.

He trusted those eyes. It was the look that they held, a look that reminded him of… 

Arthur mentally slapped himself. He’s not here, he reminded himself as he finally took the hand offered to him.

“Yes, please.”

The tiger seemed to brighten just a fraction at his approval, and he led him away from the trappings of boring conversation to the dancefloor, and Arthur had to try hard not to think about how this felt like being rescued by a knight. Especially not…

He’s not here.

The king was jostled from his thoughts as his new partner started to fit him into a hold, and a brand new anxiety washed down upon him as he tried to remember how to reciprocate the hold. Dancing lessons had never been high on the list of priorities when it came to running a kingdom, and yet somehow Arthur was expected to be able to social dance like a pro when his days were filled from dawn to dusk with meetings and drafting decrees and submitting notices of approval until he passed out on his bed. Arthur swallowed, trying to remind himself that stumbling during a dance was still preferable to listening to that one-sided conversation…

...but his partner didn’t dance like a professional. Well… he did, there was no denying his grace and timing, but he didn’t dance like he expected Arthur to be one as well. The steps were simple, the turns basic, and Arthur’s mind swam in relief as he realized that, somehow, this stranger was leading him through steps that he had managed to pick up on through trial and error.

This chance encounter was proving to be everything he needed.

The stranger led him carefully around the floor, maneuvering slowly around other people rather than weaving expertly between them like so many other couples did. If Arthur closed his eyes, he could easily pretend that he was practicing his basic steps with his brother, or his friends, or his--

He’s not here.

And yet…

Yet it was so easy to picture it, even as the peals of laughter surrounded him and washed into his subconsciousness like a spark of delight for him to enjoy. The strong hold, the careful footwork, the calculated rhythm…

Lancelot…

Arthur’s eyes opened, and though he saw stripes they were the wrong ones, and the bittersweet feeling of missing someone dear to him almost caused him to heave a sigh.

He had it bad, and he knew it. His greatest knight and closest ally and dear friend… Sir Lancelot was beyond compare. From questing as youths to his coronation, and in every disaster thereafter, Lancelot had been there, his pillar of strength in a tumultuous world, always standing nearby to passionately defend him or to spare him a quiet gesture of support. Lancelot had protected him from danger, defended his honor, strived to keep his spirits up for years and years…

Arthur had never considered himself one for romance, but as years went by, Lancelot had claimed more and more of his thoughts, attention and affection until the knight unknowingly held the king’s heart firmly in his hands. Too many times to count had Arthur been struck by the urge to grasp his hands, to sing out the words in his heart to him, to draw him close and see if he could make such a powerful knight’s knees buckle below him with a kiss alone…

One song changed into the next, and Arthur, too swept up in his fantasy, didn’t let go of the stranger, didn’t notice the slight lull in their dance, and so the dream kept going.

Lancelot wasn’t there, but Arthur could lean into this stranger’s hold on him, follow his dance, focus on his attire, concentrate on the energy he exuded, energy that reminded him so strongly of his Lancelot, and Arthur’s mind could so easily turn his dream into something more substantial. An illusion for him to drown in, just like this masquerade offered.

The music kept swelling, the sweet notes tickling his ears and driving him even deeper into his dream like he was in a trance. He kept dancing with the man that reminded him so much of his beloved that a second dance turned into a third, and Arthur clung on to his dream, not even registering that it might seem strange until--

“I mean no offense, but surely there are others who would want to dance with you?”

Arthur blinked, and the dream shattered as the man in his arms shifted back into a stranger. The king’s feet stilled, his gaze dropping to his feet. Arthur had to fight back waves of embarrassment and disgust at himself before he could answer.

“Forgive me, but the way you dance…”

HE’S NOT HERE!

“...it reminds me of someone dear to me.”

“O-Oh.”

His companion seemed at a loss, and Arthur held back another sigh, counting the beats in his head before pulling him along for the next dance, leading him in a very basic, repetitive step around the floor.

“I apologize,” Arthur murmured, knowing that there wasn’t much he could do to salvage the situation. At this point, he could only offer his apologies and an explanation. “I know it’s not fair on you, to imagine you are someone else, but…”

A look of hurt passed over his dance partner’s face, and goodness, even that reminded him painfully of Lancelot.

“...but you remind me so much of him.”

Arthur’s eyes swept over his partner, taking in the paradoxical way that he looked completely unfamiliar and yet he still somehow managed to feel so much like his dear knight. Perhaps the dream hadn’t fled from him quite yet, because now Arthur’s yearning mind was searching for any and every chance to convince himself that this was, somehow, Lancelot whom he was dancing with.

“You dance like he does,” Arthur thought aloud, as his partner remained silent. “Careful and precise.”

Your movements… I know them like I know my own.

“Pardon my asking,” the stranger returned, “but why do you not dance with him tonight?”

Like a weight to his soul that would never truly leave, Arthur’s melancholy came back to embrace him. “Ah… he isn’t here.”

He’s not here he’s not here he’s not here--

“Or at least…”

Arthur looked into the stranger’s eyes, his desperation to go back to his dream nearly choking him with emotion as the tiger’s eyes widened at the sudden look directed at him.

“...I haven’t recognized him, yet.”

Arthur knew it was terrible to put such a fantasy on a stranger at a party, but he wanted so badly to believe that this man was Lancelot. Arthur wanted to believe the ludicrous ideas his mind was supplying him with, that somehow this was Lancelot in front of him, disguised beyond all normal means. The tiger in front of him appeared to fluster, his mouth parting as though wishing to speak, though no words came forth.

“You have stripes like he does, too,” Arthur murmured softly, thoughtfully, and yes, he truly was reaching for every last detail in his pathetic attempt to turn what he had in front of him into what he wanted to see.

“If it pleases you,” the tiger finally said as the third song changed into a fourth one, “I… am not opposed to you pretending that I am he.”

Arthur smiled at that, feeling suddenly hesitant at the idea, now that the stranger, as kind and helpful as he had been, had given him his consent to mentally transform him into someone else, to be a player in this dream of his. It was sad, and unfair, but Arthur knew sadness and injustice. He tried to battle it every day, slowly changing and updating laws as they became outdated, but everything went so slowly and people only kept crying out in pain and Arthur wanted just one day, just one, to take ahold of something that he wanted and to cherish it.

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered as he stepped further into the stranger’s hold, feeling warmth overtake him as he confessed his truth. “I have loved him for a great long time and… perhaps this is the closest I shall get to what I dream of.”

Because that was all this would ever be: a dream.

He’s not here.

Arthur’s eyes closed as his head dipped down to rest on the tiger’s shoulder, a soft smile spreading over his muzzle as he noticed that he was of a similar height to Lancelot, and the dream came back in full swing. Arthur’s arms wrapped around his partner, blocking out any consideration to the lack of spines on his back, and the king focused on his heartbeat as it hammered in and out of sync with the other’s.

“I understand the sentiment,” his partner whispered in response, and Arthur had to hold back what was either a laugh or a sob, morphing it into a hum on its way out.

You speak like him, too.

And so the king held his partner as tightly and tenderly as he would a lover, humming along to the song as the masquerade around him faded into nothing. There was nothing, nothing in his dream, but himself and his Lancelot as they spun around slowly.

He’s here. He’s here, I can feel it.

Arthur’s dream permeated his mind, overtaking his consciousness, and as the fourth song faded into oblivion, he finally let out the sigh he had been carrying all night.

“Lancelot…”

Two pairs of feet stilled as both parties realized what had just been said, and one final word jolted the king from his dream.

“A… Arthur?”

He was here all along.

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday! Very into the Bad Things Happen bingo card. How about "go through me," for a pairing of your choice (but if your choice happens to be Cullen/Trevelyan/Blackwall I am SO intrigued)

SO, SOME CONTEXT

When I first played Inquisition I didn’t realize if you turn down a romance you can’t rekindle it later. So Thalia was flirting with both Cullen and Blackwall, then when things got intense turned down Blackwall right after they first kissed. Then he gave her the cold shoulder for the rest of the game. She got with Cullen for good after I realized Blackwall would never give her the time of day again, but I always wondered what would happen if everyone involved actually acknowledged this sordid love triangle that she put herself in. 

I take full responsibility for the ensuing disaster. 

For @dadrunkwriting and @badthingshappenbingo

Series: Dragon Age: Inquisition (set between the main game and Trespasser)

Word Count: 3,298

CW: The rating is on the E side of M for sexual content, and there is mention of sexual assault (though none occurs). Also, everyone is on their absolute WORST behavior here. It’s messy and awful. There are no heroes. I’m not sorry.

---

The scent of lavender and chamomile soap lingered in the room. Through the window, Kirkwall’s harbor shimmered in the morning sun, dotted with ships sliding to and fro across the water. From here, the city seemed picturesque, all white stone and warm breezes. Thalia leaned forward to catch a glimpse of children at play on the street, but they ran around a corner and disappeared in a cloud of laughter. 

“Would you sit still?” The admonishment came as a growl; he sounded genuinely cross. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Thalia said, stifling a giggle of her own. 

She perched on the edge of the bed. He sat behind her, working a comb through the wet tangles of her hair. Her auburn locks, luxurious and long enough to reach her waist, were one of her best attributes. It brought her untold pleasure to feel his fingers in her hair, the careful tilting of her head, the gentle bite of the comb against her scalp. 

“I’ve heard such frightful things about this city,” she murmured. “But I think it’s beautiful.” 

“Depends on your purpose for being here. And the company you choose to keep.” 

Thalia stole a glance over her bare shoulder, hugging the towel around herself. His still-damp black hair gleamed in the sunlight, grey eyes washed pale, almost colorless. 

“I have found the company very agreeable, I must say,” she remarked. 

“Have you?” A smirk found its way to his lips. He smiled more easily these days. 

“Oh, yes,” Thalia said. “Imagine the luck: a girl meets a dashing stranger in a pub and gets swept off her feet.” 

He snorted, a small noise of derision, although he was clearly enjoying the game. “A stranger, eh?”

“Of course. Who else? It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Thom Rainier.” 

Thalia relished the feel of the name of her tongue, how it sounded in the sweet air between them. How he no longer flinched when she said it. She saw him transformed, although he had the same long beard and the same strong eyebrows and the same slightly askew nose, and soon he would don the same humble blacks. She had known he was different the moment she spied him in the Hanged Man the night before, Varric at her side. She’d spotted him at the end of the bar, halfway through a stein of ale, and her heart had leapt into her throat. 

Now he eyed her with the same old longing, but without the torment. She saw him as he must have been once: tall and proud, the envy of the native-born Orlesians in their army. He was slowly making peace with himself — as he had explained to her after she’d slipped onto the barstool beside him — one apology at a time. 

She shivered under his gaze, remembering how she had put a hand over his on the bar, and he’d put a hand on her knee. The thing she’d wanted those long months at Skyhold, the thing he’d withheld while wrapped up in his desire for self-flagellation, had felt palpable, and ripe for the taking.

“The pleasure’s been all mine, my lady,” he said now, voice low. 

Heat filled her, and she turned away, breathing fast. 

It’s just this once, she had thought, walking him back to his rented room in Lowtown. Even though she told herself she’d say goodbye at the door and return to Varric and her chambers in the Viscount’s palace. Even though Thom had told her the streets at night were unsafe for a woman alone. Come in, just for a moment, he’d said, eyes burning in the lamplight. 

In the glare of morning, she found it difficult to consider leaving. Precious time had passed. She would soon be missed among the official representatives of the Inquisition; Varric could only cover for her for so long. 

She felt the brush of his lips on her shoulder. His hand reached past her collarbone, dipped below the towel to the roundness of her breast. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, nipple hardening under the stroke of his thumb. “Thom, I…” 

“Shh.” His mouth was on her neck, beard tickling her from nape to jaw. “Let’s enjoy this a little longer.” 

She grasped for words, trying to ground them. “I need to be back at the palace in a few hours.” 

That was the whole point of the bath, to wash away any trace of indiscretion, but she could feel that pretext slipping. He squeezed her breast, his touches straying from gentle to enticing. “There’s still time.”

Her breath caught. “Time for what?”

“Anything we want.”

She thought of last night, their movements frenzied and frantic, as if they’d both been afraid the other might vanish. The morning light had dispelled this myth, burned it away like fog. And his hands were roaming. His teeth nipped her ear. 

Thalia turned to face him, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Just once more,” she said, dubiously, because a line once crossed can never be uncrossed.

He tugged the towel free, and she fell backward onto the mattress, giddy.

—

Some time later, there was a pounding on the door. Amid grunts, gasps and a particularly creaky bed frame, it took them a few seconds to notice.

Thalia snickered. “Do you want to get that?”

“Not particularly,” Thom muttered into her hair. 

“You’re not — oh — late with the rent or anything?” She curled her ankles tighter around his legs, trying not to grow distracted. Whoever it was had to take the hint eventually. 

“Don’t think so.” He paused above her, eyes darting to the side, head tilted. “Did you hear…?” 

Amid the banging came a shout. “Thom Rainier, open up. I know you’re in there.” 

Her blood ran cold. She stopped digging her nails into Thom’s back and hissed, “It’s Cullen.” 

“Maker’s balls.” He disentangled himself and sat up, grabbing at the floor for his breeches. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming.” 

“He wasn’t.” Thalia clutched the sheet to cover herself, feeling a sudden, ludicrous shyness. The rented room was small, the bed in full view of the door. “He said he never wanted to step foot in Kirkwall again.” 

“Then he lied, or else summoned some courage.” Breeches laced, Thom pulled a loose tunic over his head. There was a red splotch on his neck from where she’d been kissing him. 

Thalia’s head spun. “How did he find us?”

“He hasn’t found anyone yet.” Thom yanked on a boot. “You need to hide, my lady.” 

“Thom Rainier, in the name of the Inquisition, I command you to appear at once.”

“Are you serious?” Thalia sat up, holding the sheet to her chest, and blew strands of damp hair from her face. “I need to talk to him.” 

Thom paused, one eyebrow raised. “You’ve never dealt with a jealous man before, have you?” 

She stared at him. “Have you?” 

His look reminded Thalia that he had lived a storied life long before meeting her. 

“Sweet Andraste,” she whispered. “Who was it?” 

“Haven’t really got time to tell the tale.” Thom stood, glancing in the cracked mirror atop the room’s chest of drawers. He hand a swift hand through sweaty hair. “Ended with bared steel, though. An experience I’m not eager to repeat.” 

“Rainier, OPEN this door, or I’ll have the City Guard open it FOR you.”

“I’m coming! Just wait two damn seconds, for Maker’s sake.” Thom turned to Thalia and lowered his voice. “I’ll hold him off for as long as I’m able. Can you climb out the window?” 

“What?” she gasped, aghast. “No, I’m naked. And we’re three floors up!” 

“Then get some clothes on, and find a place he’s not likely to look.” 

He left her, crossing to the door in quick, purposeful strides. Thalia dove to the ground on the far side of the bed and tried not to panic. Frantic, she combed the floorboards for the clothes she’d discarded the night before. She found her shift hanging on the edge of the shabby screen that divided the sleeping area from the privy. Mortified, she yanked it down and threw it on over her head. Crawling behind the screen, she tried to find the right holes for her head and arms. Once everything was in the right place, she stood and hid — until she realized her feet were visible in the gap between the screen and the floor. She jumped into the bathtub and ducked down just as Thom thrust open the door. 

White knuckling the tub’s rim, Thalia peered through a vertical slit in the screen. Cullen stood on the stoop, red-faced with fury. Her heart thudded in her ears. He was supposed to be at Skyhold, a thousand leagues away, blissfully none the wiser about an impulsive, clandestine tryst with a known criminal.

“Commander Cullen. It’s been awhile.” Thom’s tone was even. He had only opened the door about a foot, and held the knob firm. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Where is she?” Cullen demanded. 

“Where is who?”

“You damn well know who.” Cullen angled his head past Thom’s shoulder, trying to look inside the room. “Thalia? Thalia!” 

She shrunk away from the screen, even though there was no reasonable way he could see her. 

Thom moved into Cullen’s line of sight. “The Inquisitor’s missing, is she? Do you have any leads?”

“There’s no use denying it,” Cullen snapped. “I know you’ve taken her. She was last seen with you, yesterday evening in the Hanged Man pub.” 

Varric, you told, Thalia thought with dismay. She’d believed he of all people would keep her secret. But then again, what else could he reasonably have done, with the Inquisition’s Commander arriving unannounced, looking for his girlfriend? 

“That’s a hell of an accusation, Commander,” Thom said carefully, an edge creeping into his voice. “Might be I ran into her last night, but that doesn’t mean I took her anywhere.”

Cullen’s face was all skepticism. “You were spotted leaving together.”

“And soon after we parted ways. What of it?” 

He’s good at this — good at lying, Thalia realized. Her stomach lurched. Of course he is. He’s had loads of practice. 

“You mean to tell me that the Inquisitor left a pub in your company — you being her former protector — yet you let her travel Lowtown alone, in the middle of the night?” Cullen’s incredulous tone reminded her of the Templars in the Ostwick Circle, searching for wrongdoing amongst the mages. Sweat trickled unpleasantly down her back.

“You know as well as I do how stubborn she can be, Commander.” Thom shrugged helplessly.

A muscle in Cullen’s jaw throbbed. “Did you two have an argument?”

“Oh, that’s rich. No doubt you’re also thinking how close we are to the docks in this part of town.” Thom let out a bitter chuckle. “No, we didn’t have a bloody argument, Cullen. If you’re so worried about where she’s gone, maybe you ought to ask yourself what you might’ve done to drive her away.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  

A grim ugliness snaked its way through Thalia’s belly. Nothing had driven her away, in truth. Cullen had been nothing but lovely to her from the first moment they had met. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. She had convinced herself that the dalliance with Thom was harmless: a loose end to tie up with the man who she had once believed to be Warden Blackwall, who had denied her advances because of the risk it posed her should his identity be discovered. Afterward, she’d thought they could part ways and — what? Pretend it had never transpired at all?

She had been lying to herself, to think it would be that simple. 

Thalia stepped out of the bathtub and, taking a deep breath, from behind the screen. From the doorway, Cullen spotted her, his eyes widening. His expression went from one of anger to shock, and quickly to concern. “Thalia! Maker’s breath, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Cullen,” Thalia said softly. 

Surprised, Thom jerked his head toward her. “My lady, what are you doing?” 

“Ending this ruse,” Thalia said, lifting her chin.

 Cullen tried to enter the room. Thom held fast, throwing his weight against the door. “Hey now, easy there, lad. You haven’t been invited in.”

“Don’t patronize me, Rainier. You’ve been lying through your teeth since we set eyes on each other.” Cullen looked past him to Thalia, searching her with a painful desperation. “Has he hurt you?” 

Thalia shook her head. “No, not at all. Cullen, I think we need to—”

Cullen tried to shove his way in, more violently this time. Thom threw out an arm, leaning hard against the doorframe, blocking him. “What the lady is trying to say, Commander, is that you’re not welcome here.” 

That was not what Thalia was trying to say. She gaped at Thom, stunned that he would assert such a thing on her behalf.

Cullen narrowed his gaze. “I don’t know exactly what it is you’re playing at, Rainier. She belongs to me.” 

Thalia could sense a dangerous undercurrent crackling in the air between them. She rushed forward, placing one hand on each of their arms. “Thom, Cullen. Please, can’t we just talk about this?”  

“You want her?” Thom asked, eyes locked on Cullen. “You’ll have to go through me.” 

Cullen’s mouth twitched into a dark smirk. “Gladly.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Thalia. “Gentlemen, this is getting ridiculous.”

Cullen stepped backward. Thinking he was backing down, Thalia felt relief wash over her. Then, to her horror, heavily armed soldiers rushed the door. They struck with force that it banged open, sending both Thom and Thalia scattering. 

“Thomas Rainier,” Cullen said, stepping across the threshold, “you’re under arrest.” 

“What?” Thalia cried.

The guards were on him in an instant, slamming him up against the chest of drawers. The cracked mirror shuddered and threatened to fall. He tried to fight, but without armor or weapon and vastly outnumbered, it was hopeless. Thalia nearly ordered them to stand down, but saw these were not Inquisition soldiers; they were dressed in the garb of the Kirkwall City Watch. She had no command over them. What else could she do? Toss a lightning spell at them? Injure them with the power of her anchor, and start an international incident? 

Pressing Thom’s face against the wall, the guards forced his arms behind his back and began to bind him. Nausea hit Thalia, and for a second she was back in the crowd before the gallows in Val Royeaux, watching the man she’d believed to be Blackwall surrender himself for execution. She grabbed the doorframe for support.

Once bound, Thom was wheeled around by one guard. Another grabbed him by the hair and yanked his chin upward. He gritted his teeth and glared at Cullen, who stood by with relentless calm. 

“For what crime?” Thom demanded.

“Kidnapping, for a start.” Cullen remained unfazed as he took in the space around him: the unmade bed, the scattered bits of clothing. His expression didn’t change as he studied Thalia, standing there in her shift and nothing else, her hair a tangled mess — but the color drained from his face. His voice was measured but hard as flint. “And last I checked, rape is a hanging offense here in Kirkwall.”

Thom burst out laughing. “Oh, is that what you think happened? Open your damn eyes, Commander. You think your scare tactics will work? I know the law. You’ve no jurisdiction in Kirkwall anymore.”

Cullen let out an impatient sigh. “Not technically, no. But the captain of the guard is a friend, and I expect no objections from her. She leant me her men for this endeavor, after all, with leave to bring in a notorious fugitive.” He slid over to where Thalia leaned against the wall, hoping her legs wouldn’t buckle. He reached for her elbow. “Come, dearest, let’s get you—”

She wrenched her arm away. “Why are you doing this?” 

He gazed at her with a terrible pity. “To protect you.” 

“My lady, tell him,” Thom shouted, as the guards herded him toward the door. “Tell him, Thalia.”

“Tell me what?” Cullen asked softly. 

The hair had fallen across Thom’s face. His chest heaved from exertion, his expression one of anguished expectation. The guards lingered by the door, casting curious glances between the man they were detaining and the one giving them orders. Cullen hovered over Thalia, hazel eyes full of more cunning than she thought him capable. Dare she say it, in front of guardsmen not beholden to the Inquisition, when gossip would spread like wildfire through the city? 

She swallowed hard and looked at her feet. 

Thom’s face hardened. “I see how it is.” 

“Get him out of here.” Cullen waved a dismissive hand at the guards. Thalia stared up at him with a marveling horror. He gazed back, unblinking. 

Thom declared, “I demand a trial by combat.” 

Cullen froze. He turned to the prisoner, drawing in a slow breath. “You have that right.” 

“Then we’ll see, won’t we?” Thom’s smirk was grim. “Who’ll win her in the end.” 

Thalia’s stomach twisted in knots. The guards dragged Thom down the front stairs and out of sight. 

Once he was gone, Cullen’s shoulders slumped, and the stoic mask slipped. Pain shone bright in his eyes. “My love, I’m sorry to—”

She slapped him as hard as she could.

His head snapped to the side, and he let it stay there, unwilling or unable to face her. “Please understand.” 

“How dare you. How dare you.” Thalia paced the room, gripped by a vicious rage. “You know he didn’t kidnap me. He didn’t rape me. Are you out of your mind?” 

Cullen gazed at her sadly. “He’s dangerous, Thalia, can’t you see that? Just look at how he lured you here—”

“Lured me here?”

“—Took advantage of you, then lied about it — quite expertly, might I add.” He held out his arms, palms upturned, imploring. “One can comprehend how he spun such twisted webs in Orlais with that silver tongue of his.” 

Thalia sat down abruptly on the floor. Clutching her legs to her chest, she buried her fingers in her hair and pulled on the strands until her scalp hurt. Maybe that would allow her to wake from this nightmare. Finally, she titled her head up to where he stood, blocking the light from the window. “I get it now.” 

“Get what?” 

She smiled tightly. “How you got so far in the Templar Order.” 

He flinched as if she’d struck him again. 

“You see what you want to see,” she continued. “No matter the cost.” 

Cullen shook his head. “That isn’t fair, Thalia.” 

“Isn’t fair? He demanded a trial by combat! One of you is going to die, for— for what? Because I slept with him?” A desperate laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Yes, I slept with him. I slept with him because I wanted to, and I enjoyed it quite a lot, in fact.” 

Cullen whirled from her, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. Thalia worried he would start in again about how Thom had manipulated her. Instead he let the silence stretch, and stretch. 

“Do you love him?” he asked, in a small voice. 

Her heart pounded so loud it was difficult to hear over it. “I think so, yeah.” 

He turned to her, stricken. “More than me?” 

Thalia buried her face in her hands. She couldn’t lie, not after all this. “I don’t know.” 

That was not the answer Cullen sought. His beautiful face contorted into a sneer. “Then I suppose it’s fortunate the trial will sort that out for you.” 

He left her there, alone, hugging her knees. 

---

Notes: YEAH WHOOPS SORRY cliffhanger ending. It was already getting so long as it was. Uh – to be continued, maybe? 🤷‍♀️

[peaches-writes]

penalty kick

description: maybe you got off on the wrong foot...actually, jisung did actually pushed you off the wrong foot.  member: jisung / han  genre: fluff, slice of life, coming of age, childhood frenemies / rivals to lovers au, idiots to lovers au, neighbor au, high school au, college au, lil dashes of soccer baseball musician & campus dj au bc jisung ace, female reader, off-season universe (mc from naturally is jeoyeon, mc from tumbles & turns is bora, and mc from off-season is kira hek)  word count: 12k warnings: explicit language, alcohol (a tiny mention of underage drinking pls drink responsibly!), mentions of injuries, jisung issa lil dumb & a lil shit but issokay hes an adorable lil shit note: @crscendoforsung so i scraped the witch jisung au (but i’ll come back to it in the future maybe it’s still in my drafts lol) so here is dumbass jisung for now + im away on christmas day so here’s my gift a day in advanced lmao

Age four. Your neighbor and favorite playmate, Han Jisung, pushed you so hard on the swings at your neighbourhood playground that you literally flew out of your plastic curved seat and bruised your knees, elbows, and chin. 

Maybe you did had it coming from continuously complaining that he��‘pushed like a sissy’ and even standing up on the swing set just to brag that you can balance all of your body weight on such flimsy material. Maybe your neighbor has always had a secret grudge on you finally enacted through this incident. Either way, the next thing you knew, a wide-eyed Jisung was on your side alternating between calling for adult help, crying over your bruises, and muttering curses he probably heard from his older brother under his breath. 

“Shit, shit shit...” He squeaked out frantically in his tiny voice, gently moving you to a sitting position on the stone pavement and dusting the dirt off of your bleeding injuries despite your loud complaints that your entire body was hurting. Looking around your surroundings, his breath then got caught up in his throat at seeing your mother fast-approaching with a mix of furious and worried in her expression. “Auntie! Help!” 

Your mother was hovering over you in an instant, examining your bruises with furrowed brows and clenched teeth. “Ah, dear God, what happened here?!” She exclaimed in a scolding tone, piercing gaze darting between your tearful eyes and Jisung’s panicked ones. “Jisung, did you do this?” 

“It was an accident auntie!” The boy in question answered immediately as he shook his head nervously and scooted away with his hands up in defense. “It was an accident, I promise!” 

However, with your back turned to him then, you naturally had a different impression of the incident as you quickly retorted, “He pushed me, mommy! He pushed me off of the swing!” 

Your mother never made any clear indication that she believed you as she simply shook your head and lifted you by your shoulders and knees, carrying you to a nearby bench to treat your wounds. 

Angered by your outburst, Jisung reluctantly followed you and your mother to the bench then glared at you until your injuries were cleaned and bandaged. With his arms crossed and a permanent frown bordering a pout on his lips, he stood next to you in his attempt at looking visibly angry for a puny five-year-old while you hissed and whined in pain the entire time. 

What’s worse is that his own mother made him apologize by sending him off to the nearest convenience store to buy you apple juice and steamed buns. Because of this, you’ve been mortal enemies, rivals, each other’s designated future potential killer, whatever you want to call it ever since.

Age seven. Han Jisung helped perpetuate a wild rumour that you and the rest of the class’ female population had ‘cooties.’ 

It’s only natural for boys at this age to gravitate to similar actions, of course. After all, you’ve heard worse from boys in the other classes (read: Hwang Hyunjin crying and demanding to get sent home because a girl kissed him on the cheek on the first day of classes). It’s the fact that Jisung actually seemed to have to believed it for a brief period of time in your first grade, however, that completely threw you off. 

He pulled on your braids during the time he sat behind you and kicked your shins while in line for P.E. class to ‘test your anger patience’ that was apparently fueled by cooties and occasionally stole your snacks for actual ‘DNA evidence’ of said cooties among other petty little things. It was nothing short of annoying and the very bane of your existence then. 

“Han Jisung cut it out!” You yelled at him one day, hitting him on the shoulder with the curved end of your wooden broom during after-class cleaning time. In this particular incident, the boy managed to swiftly take one of your pigtails out while wiping the windows in an attempt to ‘examine’ the DNA in your hair. 

“What?!” He snickered, taking a big step away from you and lifting up the blue scrunchie to examine it for miniscule strands of loose hair. “It’s for research!” 

You groaned in annoyance, reaching forward to retrieve the scrunchie with one hand while the other instinctively ran through the messed up half of your hair. “Jisung, give it back, you weirdo!” You scolded through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes when he shakes his head stubbornly and takes another step back from your reach. 

“Tell me the secret first!” 

“Secret of what?!” 

“Do you girls actually have cooties?” He quirked a genuinely suspicious eyebrow at you, raising the scrunchie above your heads after when you proceed lunge forward at him. “Does it actually make you guys this irritable all the time?” 

Somehow, the questions struck some kind of nerve in you. You were tired from classes, cleaning, and having to put up with Jisung’s childish antics. Maybe 1st grade girls did have cooties but for tapping into unbridled anger. “I’m going to kill you!” With the broom in your hands and the dust pan you snatched from his in retaliation, you then proceeded on repeatedly hitting Jisung in the forearms and shoulders until he surrendered with his arms protectively over his head and your scrunchie finally within reach. 

He also offered to fix your pigtail back for you but given the amount of distrust you already had for him, you simply smacked him one last time and went to the other end of the room to fix your hair. 

Age nine. Maturing a little bit through summer camps and classes, you and Jisung redirected all of your energy from physical violence to outsmarting each other in class. 

It started in English class when Mrs. Lee introduced the idea of recitations garnering students points and a fancy award at the end of the school year. Coming from the same piano class in the summer prior wherein you and Jisung also competed for your instructor’s attention, the two of you were quick to consider this as another one of your competitions. 

You devoted most of your time to studying the lesson from the what’s, who’s, when’s, and where’s while Jisung thought that focusing more on the deeper why’s and how’s would somehow garner him better points no matter how many times Mrs. Lee reiterated that all recitation points are given in 1 point’s. 

As the school year progressed, especially after the first semester report cards came out and the two of you were tied to first place in English to the very third decimal, the academic rivalry immediately extended to competing for the most amount of extra-curricular activities. You were more favored with the way you handled baby animals at the local shelter and competed in debates and quiz bees while Jisung was mainly noticed by the soccer and baseball coaches and the school choir’s moderator for his skills in sports and music. 

Jisung’s mom, who always picked the two of you up from school in her minivan, obliviously thought it was cute. 

“You know, instead of competing over everything all the time, you guys can take some notes from each other.” She pointed out one time after hearing your comment on Jisung ‘smelling like a polluted Pacific Ocean’ as he climbed in the backseat of the car. The sentiment almost went in one ear and came out of the other with the two of you, however, as Jisung proceeded on complaining that you smelled like ‘Cruella de Vil’s fake fur coat’ then hitting you on the head with his soccer ball. “Especially you, Sungie. You can learn a thing or two of keeping a goldfish alive for more than a week from Y/N.” 

You laughed at Jisung’s immediate shocked reaction of wide eyes and gaping mouth at this, slapping his arm in amusement and toppling over the backseat in laughter. “Yeah, Sungie, you really need help from that department.” You stuck your tongue out at him teasingly, laughing even more when he groans and hits you back with a light punch to your own arm. 

“Stop it.” He hissed at you before turning to his mother again, meeting her gaze through the rear view mirror. “Mom! You’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Mrs. Han was also stifling her own laughs then, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead instead of checking for her son’s pouting expression and crossed arms through the mirror. “Okay, okay.” She chuckled playfully with a dismissive hand, catching your eye after with a giggle. “Y/N, you should learn how to commit to exercise more with Jisung, then. There? Happy?” 

Satisfied, Jisung stuck his tongue out childishly at you as if completely forgetting the fact that he was attacked by his own mother first. “Bleh!” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a light-hearted scoff of your own, laughing away the way he proceeded to exaggeratedly tease you. “You’re so childish, Sung.” 

When your moms did seriously consider this idea later on, you were then forced to dedicated one weekend to taking each other to your respective extra-curricular activities. It was right before your final examinations and Jisung ended up getting scared over a golden retriever giving birth while you received severe cramps from the elementary soccer team’s rigorous conditioning training. 

It was a recipe of disaster, basically, and it ultimately led you and Jisung to cram knowledge for your exams on Sunday night in his bedroom. When you stubbornly didn’t learn anything from going to each other’s favorite extra-curriculars, you unconsciously ended up learning from each other in the six hours you both stayed up trying to review your notes. Miraculously (as in the miracle of hot brewed Milo-induced sugar rushes), it went well and the two of you tied or were close in grades at the second release of report cards.  

The only downside of it all was just the fact that the fancy recitation award in your English class that started it all somehow went to Hyunjin. 

“Ah, this is so frustrating!” You exclaimed on the ride home from school. You had your report card in your hands like Jisung, looking back on it all the while stressing out about Hyunjin winning the award the two of you spent a whole school year competing for. 

On the other side of his mom’s backseats, Jisung then turned to you and suggested, “Want to prank him? We’re playing soccer next week, you can swap his Cola for soy sauce.” 

You glanced over at Jisung, your pout slowly turning into a mischievous grin at his raised brows. “You’re onto something...” 

Age ten. You went on your first class field trip with a stuffed purple lunch bag of snacks.

Your mother specifically suggested that you share it with Jisung, thinking that the two of you would sit next to each other on the bus since he’s your only classmate she’s actually familiar with. But of course, when Jisung didn’t bring up any hints that he knew of this while waiting for the school bus to arrive, you immediately thought against it and planned out how you were going to hide your seemingly endless supply of snacks from him on the back-and-forth rides to Namsan Tower.

It was a well thought-out plan involving sitting near to the front and as far away from him as possible with your own group of friends then hiding the lunch bag under your seat until you caught Hyunjin not-so-discreetly trying to steal from you while he re-checked attendance after a stop-over.

“Jisung put you up to this, didn’t he?” You frowned, candy successfully retrieved from Hyunjin’s prying hands and popped into your mouth as the lanky boy scratched the back of his head in shame. “It’s okay, Hyunjin, I won’t kill you. It’s Jisung’s corpse I’m planning to roll down Namsan if he’s actually behind this.”

After a few more coaxing, Hyunjin eventually nodded sheepishly and admitted to Jisung convincing him to take a candy bar from you.

“Ya! Hyunjin!” Jisung whined from across the bus, peeking his head up from the identical red seats with balled up fists. “I told you not to rat me out!”

“Y/N was being scary!” Hyunjin argues back, sprinting back to his seat as soon as the the bus stopped at a streetlight. Hiding under the sea of seats, he then exclaimed, “You two take me out of your fights! Geez!”

Jisung pouted at you as soon as you lifted your own head up from your seat and turned around to face him, holding his hands out in front of him and then asking, “Can’t I really have candy?”

You shook your head stubbornly. “If I give you one, everyone’s going to ask me for it too.”

“But everyone’s basically asleep!”

“They could be fake-sleeping for all I know!” You hissed, popping another ball of candy in your mouth. “I don’t trust anyone in this class with food but myself.” 

“Y/N!” He whined, only to get pulled down by force when the bus abruptly begins moving again. Scrambling up right after, he then continued pleading, “Please?”

“No.” You firmly concluded, sitting back down on your seat. 

Jisung even tried staying behind to try and steal candy off of you while the entire class was piling outside to enter Namsan Tower, only to trip in surprise when you jumped on him from crouching under the seats. Poor boy almost hit his head on the seats in shock.

“I knew you’d pull this kind of shit.” You tsked in disapproval with a slight stutter towards cursing at such an age, smacking him over the head anyway before throwing the smallest piece of chocolate candy you had from your bag. Moving past him to the bus exit, you then added, “You don’t even do nice things for me.”

You only meant it half-heartedly, though. Whether Jisung actually wanted more candy or he did sincerely felt bad over what you said, either way, he paid for the expensive pink lock you and your friend wanted to hang at the very top of the tower later on but only if you promised to share your snacks.

Jisung received three packets of gummy bears and a bottle of banana milk from you in the end on the ride home.

Age twelve. The Hans temporarily moved to Malaysia in the summer before the seventh grade because of an assignment for Jisung’s father at work.

On the day before their flight, Mr. and Mrs. Han organized a farewell party in their house at the other end of the block and invited your entire class. Jisung tricked you into getting him a farewell present by telling you that everyone was planning to do the same thing as a surprise but he secretly found out thing.

He didn’t actually expect you to get him something, not with the way the two of you have always been at each other’s necks since you were kids, but you ended up surprising him in the middle of the lunch party by giving him a small notebook of useful Malaysian phrases you wrote down yourself. You don’t always agree with Jisung but you think of yourself as thoughtful and civil enough to buy something practical. Also, your parents insisted. 

“O-Oh, you actually got me something?” He fumbled through an intense blush that matched the redness of his Supreme cap, almost tripping over nothing as you both stood on the steps leading down to the back of his house. It didn’t help that a few classmate passersby were glancing your way as well, either cooing or snickering at the awkward sight in the corner of all the socialization. “L-Like—like, this is actually for me?”

You raised a brow in confusion and reluctantly shrugged, releasing the red phrasebook from your grip as he held onto it by the other end. “Yeah, you said you’re getting presents so I...got you one.”

“I actually lied—“

“What?!” You exclaimed a little too loudly for your taste, earning you a sharp glare from your mother all the way across the backyard. Mouthing a quick apology to your her, you then quickly averted your glare back to Jisung who instinctively resorted to looking at anywhere but you. “But you said—“

“I thought for sure that no one would give me any farewell presents since it’s not a birthday or anything but I know you would if you’re like forced to or something so I thought...hehe...” He mustered up a sheepish grin, pressing his index fingers together in a comical shy gesture. When your glare intensifies, he then immediately held his hands up in defense and visibly winced, “Ya, don’t hit me!”

Every fiber in your being really wanted to hit him with the notebook then, maybe even push him down the stairs while no one was looking, but after a moment of thinking your way out of such violent thoughts, you resorted to exhaling a sigh and saying, “Whatever, just keep the notebook or something. I don’t care. It’s not expensive, anyway.”

You chanted to yourself that you’re mature, especially as Jisung’s eyes lit up and he immediately thanked you for both the gift and sparing his life that day.

Though he didn’t hear the end of the other teasing from Hyunjin after that, Jisung kept the notebook around anyway throughout his entire two-year stay in Malaysia. It was helpful but he’ll never admit that to your face.

“You kept it.” You pointed out one day, more as a statement than a question as you realized that the notebook he was using for exam reviewer notes was in the same color as the phrasebook you gave him. When Jisung came back in the summer before the ninth grade, the two of you met again in the same cram school wherein mostly everyone but you and the transfer student, Kim Seungmin, refused to help him keep up with the heavier than usual workload. “The phrasebook...”

“Yeah—well, I didn’t want to waste any of the pages you didn’t write on.” He pouted stubbornly as he flipped through the older pages to compare the amount of pages you used to the empty sheets. His tone actually sounded like he was convincing himself much more than he was trying with you but you missed it complete in the moment. “Be more eco-friendly, Y/N.”

You simply rolled your eyes at him. “Glad to know I kept you alive in another country somehow, then.”

Age fourteen. You went to a soccer game to see Jisung but only because one of your friends, Eunha, developed a crush on the striker and eventually hatched a plan to confess on the game before Valentine’s Day. Fortunately, Jisung barely noticed and didn’t tease you for it since it’s already an established fact that you’re always at his games with either Yang Jeongin or Seungmin to cheer on Hyunjin instead.

You really didn’t get it. Of course, fifteen was the time when some, if not all, parts of your day were starting to become dedicated to vanity and all the artificial things in life to attract kind of puppy love in school but at this point Jisung always wore the same green hoodie, red Supreme cap, and white ‘Eyez on You’ shirt to every school function that didn’t require wearing a uniform.

You understood how your classmates suddenly began fawning over Hyunjin right after the summer when he got his braces removed and then Seungmin for bringing a suit and tie one time for an inter-school debate but the hype over Jisung suddenly bringing in his guitar to class breaks everyday and re-emerging as a star soccer and baseball player throughout the school year is an absolute mystery to you. That or, maybe compared to your junior high peers, you’re just as used to him at this point than they all are. In your perspective, the only legitimate thing he has going on is how he always seems to beat you in most Arts subjects and how annoying it is that he always makes sure to rub that in your face. 

“I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t shower properly right after training.” You shook your head disapprovingly at Eunha during the game. Soccer is an interesting sport for surprisingly bringing you up to stand and cheer at some moments, you’ll give it that, but watching Jisung get cocky and interact to the crowd whenever his team scored a point was somehow cringe-worthy to watch. “And I’m so sure he still doesn’t clean that soccer ball of his right after practice. You deserve better, sis.”

But no matter how much you talked shit about him throughout the entire game, Eunha still held onto the box of handmade candies she coerced you into picking up from Jisung’s favorite candy shop on the weekend prior and cheering him on with the slogan she made herself. It would’ve looked cute and sweet to you if it was some other guy but it’s Jisung—the guy who pushed you off a swing, pulled your hair, stole candy from you, and made all of your elementary after-school rides home an actual rollercoaster—and you would never wish his treatment of you to any other person ever.

“You said that was in elementary, Y/N.” Eunha chuckled softly, nudging your elbow before a sour expression could completely overtake your face. “Surely he’s outgrown that girls have cooties phase every boy had then.”

“No, it’s Jisung and I refuse to believe it.”

You really didn’t want to believe it with your natural instinct to see Jisung as the bane of your existence. What’s worse is that Eunha was right and Jisung shyly accepted the Saturday movie date at the mall that she came up with on the spot when he surprisingly received the candies well, a complete stretch from the Jisung who would’ve lied about being busy or tricked your friend into doing something else altogether. Suddenly, it was selfishly annoying that you’re the only one he actually tortures the life out of.

“Told you.” Eunha giggled throughout the drive back to your house. Your mother picked you up from school right after the soccer game for a sleepover you insisted was a must whether or not your friend scored her Valentine’s Day date. “Ah, I’m glad he accepted. I was a nervous wreck there! You don’t happen to know what kind of movie he likes, do you?”

You never heard the end of it from her for the remainder of the semester. The two were never official—middle school just didn’t have that solid idea of significant others, then—but they did went on numerous ‘dates’ almost every weekend that followed Valentine’s Day. Naturally, Eunha would tell you all about it. 

“He’s so sweet and caring and thoughtful!” The girl endlessly gushed out to you so genuinely you would’ve been happy had you not been sincerely expecting a major fuck-up from Jisung. Nothing romantic really did come out of these dates, even Jisung surprisingly swears by it, but they did become really close friends after and as Jisung’s only other female friend at the time, you can clearly see a point of comparison between his different treatment of you. “Though, I’m gonna give it to you that he is annoying sometimes but he does know a lot of good places to hang out around town for someone who’s been away for two years!” 

“He does the bare minimum for everything, Eunha. I could barely call it sweet.” You scoffed unamused. 

Age sixteen. In the summer after the tenth grade, an upperclassman from school by the name of Lee Minho started volunteering at the same local shelter you’ve been under since elementary after surrendering a lost cat to you while he and Jisung were playing baseball at the nearby park. 

He adopted Dori in the end but prior to finalizing the adoption papers, he actually made the effort to come in at your MWF schedule to help around and see the dark grey kitten. To you, it was endearing and thoughtful since you didn’t have much active co-workers at the shelter your age but to Jisung, it was slightly inconveniencing how Minho would cut off their play-time to see the cat. He even thought Minho had a crush on you and vice versa but you knew that Minho liked one of his own closer friends. 

“Jeoyeon?” Minho scoffed, crouching down next to you one time as you watched over the new litterbox of kittens eating with Dori on your feet. Crossing his arms over his knees, he shook his head and chuckled, “They’re cool and we’ve been friends for a long time but I’m sure they have a big fat crush on Bang Chan. Something happened after their McDonald’s date after our prom, I’m telling you!” 

“No, not Jeoyeon! I meant Bora!” You argued back with a laugh, picking up a white kitten that wanders off to your feet and lifts its body up cutely for a lift. Gingerly pressing the kitten to your shoulder, you then turned to Minho and continued, “The one who came by the other day to see Dori with you. Aren’t you guys rooming together in college?” 

Minho clutched his chest dramatically at this, shaking his head with a comical conviction. “What?! How could you accuse me of that, Y/N? Bora’s from a different cheerdance team! That would be like sleeping with the enemy!” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking him off of his balance by elbowing his sides. “Ya, I didn’t say that, you did!” You scoffed at him, sighing when he laughs off landing on his butt before sitting up in a crisscross position. “Anyway, don’t you like her?” 

“If I don’t like her, we wouldn’t be making all these plans to move in together for college, stupid.” Minho snickered, earning him another elbow jab from you. “Well, what do you want me to say? You asked me if I like her, you didn’t ask me how exactly I like her.” 

"Okay then, you wise wise person: how do you like Bora?” You sighed dryly, plopping down on the ground at feeling your ankles starting to ache from crouching. The kitten on your arm then jumped down to your lap, circling your legs a few times before finding a comfortable position to sleep in. “You know, the more you visit here with this kind of sarcasm, the more I’m starting to understand where Seungmin and Jisung are suddenly getting all of their newfound sassiness from.” 

Minho chuckled next to you, picking up Dori for himself once he saw him finish eating before hugging the kitten gently to his cheek. “Bora’s...someone I’d probably punch a guy in the team for if they ever disrespect her. I mean, I’d punch a guy for Dahyun, Jeoyeon, and Jihyo, too, of course, but Bora’s in the same sport where she’s always getting lifted in the air and touched by who knows who and now that we won’t be in the same team, I feel even more responsible for keeping an eye out for her.” He shrugged casually, ignoring the way your jaw just dropped at how naturally he explained himself. “Plus, it took a lot of convincing to get her to be my roommate so I can’t really have her dying under my care in the next four years.” 

“I—” You furrowed your brows in thought, pursing your lips in a pout. “Wow, I’m jealous.” 

“Then get on my good side, Y/N.” Minho winked with a laugh, holding Dori in front of you. “Let me take this baby home at the end of the summer.” 

You rolled your eyes again at this, shaking your head. “No, I mean...I hang out with Jeongin, Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung and they aren’t really the most well-versed boys on treating girls properly.” 

“That’s why you hang out with me. We all know that Hyunjin just can’t say no to anyone who offers him a slightly more expensive bouquet of flowers, Seungmin’s in a relationship with baseball and academics, and Jisung...Jisung’s just dumb in general.” Minho then pointed out with a somehow knowing tone, smirking when a familiar figure passes by the hallways right behind you. “Speaking of...” 

Jisung joined you and Minho after, making sure to sit in between the two of you and drowning himself in as many kittens who wanted to sit on his lap as much as he can. “Dude, you shouldn’t have left early!” He scolded Minho with a pout and a slightly breathless tone from running all the way from the park. “Seungmin joined us today and he completely wiped out Sunwoo’s team!” 

“Then even more reasons to come here early so you guys could play with Seungmin on your team.” Minho laughed, gently handing Dori over to you from across Jisung before standing up and dusting the lint off of his jeans. “Y/N needed help with feeding the cats and puppies today, anyway.” 

Jisung frowned, turning to you after and asking, “Don’t you have any other co-workers around here?”

“Jeno has allergies so I don’t let him in here on most days.” You shrugged, handing Minho the empty pet bowls nearest to you as he proceeded to clean and collect them. “I can do it myself, you know. It’s just that Minho comes over and insists.” 

“Then you should’ve just told him that so we can play longer.” 

“Why is it a big deal? Do you like Minho?” 

“Do you?” Jisung’s eyes widened, almost getting scratched by a random cat in the process. “Because...because that’d be gross, to be honest...”

At this moment, your eyes accidentally met Minho’s right behind Jisung and the older boy had the audacity to wink at you before sprinting out of the room with a thumbs up above his head. 

In the end, you shrugged and answered, “I like him.” 

“What?!” Jisung sat up so quickly he almost scared a bunch of kittens walking all over his chest into jumping away.

“I’d be a psychopath if I don’t like him but let him volunteer around here, dumbass.” You deadpanned, moving the kittens around him to a safer space on the floor. “Besides, you asked me if I like him, not how I like him.” 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” 

Minho had a whole laugh out of eavesdropping from this conversation that he felt bad and actually adjusted his schedule for volunteering and playing soccer better so ‘Jisung would have one less thing to whine about all the time.’ 

Age seventeen. You and Jisung tried convincing your respective parents that going to prom as a group is the more practical and actually trendy thing to do but your mothers wouldn’t have it. Ultimately, the two of you ended up lying that you’re going as each other’s dates. 

You initially planned on begging to Seungmin until he pulled up balloons, roses, and a song number to his lab partner right on the lunch break that you planned on doing it and, of course, you had enough dignity to not fall in line with the countless of students that basically worshipped Hyunjin’s locker as if it were a shrine. 

Jisung, with Eunha already set on going with someone else she started dating at the beginning of the 11th grade school year, was the convenient choice. Your parents knew each other, he knows someone (his older brother) who can drive, and he’s recently gotten over his Emo-Hypebeast wardrobe phase after joining the school’s radio club with Chan and Changbin. With some convincing (read: an elaborate PowerPoint Presentation he made you do on the spot during one of your lunch breaks), the two of you decided that you would take all the photos your respective mothers wanted, carpool to the hotel, then go on your separate ways until his brother picks the two of you up at the end of the night. 

It was a simple and fool-proof plan, one that you almost forgot when you rented an emerald green and gold prom attire then Jisung’s mother told you right after about hearing her son trying to order a purple callalily boutonniere that clearly did not match your taste nor your colors (you sorted this out by cancelling the order and taking matters into your own hands). Then, the most awkward photo op at your house happened. 

“Sungie, put your arm around Y/N!” 

“Y/N, stop slouching, you’re going to wrinkle your outfit!” 

You were never serious-looking in any photos that had Jisung in it as well, preferring to pose like the two of you planned on murdering each other right after the photos instead, but your respective moms were holding your Instax camera and the family film cameras across the living room in this particular situation and so you reluctantly kept it inside. Straightening up your shoulders and elbowing Jisung to at least wrap an arm over your shoulder, you held up smiles right next to your red rose corsage and boutonniere set until the two women were eventually satisfied with their photos. 

“Aah, you two really make a cute couple!”

“Mom, we’re not a couple!” Jisung whined, glaring at you after which you immediately returned with the same expression.

“God, I’d sell all my limbs first before we actually become a couple.” You deadpanned back at him.

Fortunately, Jisung’s older brother allowed the two of you to basically try and throw each other out of the car windows on the thirty-minute ride to the hotel venue in compensation. You almost had him by the neck and he almost ruined your hair that you spent hours curling until Hyunjin pulled you back with a smack to your head and dragged the two of you away to help in the Prom Committee’s final preparations since Jisung was going to perform with Changbin and you were a part of the Prom’s Logistics team. 

You mostly stayed out of each other’s hairs for most of the first part of the program as you were busy pulling everything together while Jisung was having the time of his life with the soccer and basebal teams. The next time you bumped into each other, you scolded him for running late to his and Changbin’s set after dinner. 

“Where were you?!” You mostly hit him in the back with your clipboard, frantically passing him his already set up electric guitar and a microphone. First, one of your peers got drunk too early in the dinner to help out in the program, then one of the event’s award sashes briefly went missing and, not to mention, a lot of the people from the other committees somehow forgot about their event tasks when you asked in the main groupchat. You really weren’t having anyone’s antics at this point. “Geez, we already practiced this!” 

“Ow, ow, ow! Stop hitting me! Why are you so on edge?” Appropriately, he whined in complaint and took a step back after receiving his equipment, holding his hands up in defense as he always does. “Cut me some slack, Y/N! It’s prom!” 

“You’re so late when your table is literally right next to the side of the stage!” 

“I was dancing with everyone else! You wouldn’t know since you wouldn’t even take a break!” 

“Because I’m busy!” 

“No, you’re just being more irritable than usual!” 

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.” You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh, coldly directing him to the stage. “You’re on, get on the stage.” 

You knew he didn’t mean it cruelly, especially when his pupils started to shake and his shoulders instinctively slumped as he glanced back at you right before reluctantly stepping up the star-filled stage, but you were too tired of having to run around and making the event perfect for most of the night to process anything, much less his usual jabs at you. Being in such a tired headspace, you couldn’t enjoy his songs no matter how undeniably great they were, much less meet his eyes when you knew how he kept glancing at you throughout the entire set. 

He even covered your favorite song on the spot (which surprised Changbin and had Hyunjin running around backstage to inform everyone of the sudden extension) but you already sat down on your shared table with Hyunjin, Seungmin, Eunha, and their dates before he could even begin singing the chorus.  

“Hey, you good?” Minjung, Eunha’s date, asked you with an offering of an extra shawl to cover your exposed shoulders from the nearby air-conditioning unit. Eunha had previously left to go to the bathroom after stopping by your shared table. “Y/N, I told you if you needed extra help with the program, you could’ve just told us. We just planned on dancing tonight, anyway.” 

“I’m good.” You grumbled in a half-lie, resting your chin on your propped up hand tiredly, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ for the shawl as you fought away your tiredness. “I think I’ll just sit the rest of Prom out. Hyunjin can run the program on his own.” 

Minjung frowned, sitting down next to you and fixing the loose strands on the haphazard ponytail you managed to pull up in the middle of the program. “Are you sure? Eunha and I can stay with you until you’re feeling better. Besides, the program’s still long, you deserve to enjoy your hard work later at least.” 

Stubbornly, you simply scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “I think I’ve had enough of prom for one night. You should go and dance more, though. I’m okay as long as you guys are having fun.” 

But equally as headstrong as you are, Minjung got Eunha in on convincing you to agreeing to one dance with them as soon as she came back from the bathroom, reasoning out that, “We can stay in the back and just dance silly! It’s prom!” 

The pair proved themselves to be unstoppable in their joint persuasiveness when they got you to stand up and actually join them at the next set, right as Jisung was about to approach you to apologize. The poor boy ended up waiting the entire night until the two of you were alone instead, shivering right next to each other at the lobby while waiting for his brother to pick you two up. 

“Why did you even pick out something off-shoulder? I get that it’s trendy these days but you picked the venue knowing it’s cold and didn’t even connect a few dots there.” He hissed lowly, contemplating on teasing you further or keeping it quiet until he can muster up a ‘sorry’ to you. Shrugging off his jacket, he then gently draped it over your shoulder and added, “Don’t catch a cold or something...your mom’s going to kill me.” 

“Shut up.” You hissed back, crossing your arms further in over your chest as you spotted his brother’s car approaching the lobby’s driveway. You didn’t remove his coat from your back, though, clutching it tightly instead while convincing yourself that he willingly gave it to you so there’s no reason for you to throw it back at him when you really needed it. “ You don’t even do nice things for me.”

The familiar words visibly caught him off-guard, almost foiling his plan of opening the door for you as he freezes in his steps but he regains composure in time and almost trips ahead to swat your hand away from the car’s door handle. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled in the awkward silence, gulping down his fears of your death glare as he briefly averted his gaze away from you. With this, he missed the way your gaze softened. “There’s candies in the pockets.”

And there was, coincidentally enough the same brand he tried stealing from you on your school field trip.

“These aren’t expired, right?” You chuckled, popping a chocolate in your mouth anyway. 

That was enough for Jisung to relax his shoulders and laugh along. “No, promise.” He held a hand up as if he was swearing by his words, easing you into another fit of laughs. “I ran all the way to the convenience store down the block to get you those tonight! I felt really bad...I didn’t mean it.”

He could be sweet if he wanted, you’d give him that. 

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered to him at the end of the night, right after scoffing at him for insisting to walk you all the way to your doorstep of course. “I was so stressed with managing everything that I took it out on you.” 

Standing awkwardly with you right in front of your house’s front door, the sheepish boy rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “Nah, I think I deserve it. I do annoy you a lot, don’t I?” He chuckled, eyes trained to the ground. “I didn’t even ask you to one dance.” 

“Not like you actually had to, we’re no—” 

“But you were still technically my date and I don’t want to be a bad prom date, even to you!” He insisted anyway, only then looking up at you. “I’ll make it up to you in the distant future, okay? Reserve me your next dance in the distant future, no matter where it is!”  

Before you could even retort, he was already running back to his brother’s car. 

Age eighteen and a half. Jisung began dating a girl named Haneul whom he met in one of his general classes and didn’t have one single clue about baseball or soccer. Naturally, his entire friend group was concerned. 

Though you’re much civil friends now, you still didn’t really care. Or maybe you didn’t want to out of spite (or a really really weird and displaced feeling of jealousy?), you weren’t sure. You just thought that Jisung can do whatever he wants even when it’s something that’s generally not advisable when you’re a freshman in college, but it seemed as if it was all Jeongin talked to you about whenever the two of you met up to study for one of your shared classes so naturally you forced yourself to take in all of the gossip. What’s worse is that Hyunjin would come over often to loiter around the library and gawk at the cute student librarian, ultimately encouraging the younger boy to talk about it more. 

“You’re being unfair to her.” You always reminded the two, sometimes Seungmin when he would sit quietly in the middle of the topic and say nothing to defend Haneul. In this particular time, Jeongin took you to watch the baseball team’s Wednesday scrimmage after hours of studying your nursing notes together at the nearby library. “Like, look, I don’t even do any sports myself but you guys hang out with me.” 

“But you’re different, you’re not dating any one of us.” Hyunjin snickered, hugging his helmet to his chest as he sat a step below you on the bleaches. When a thought then crossed his mind, he dramatically gasped over his gloves and added, “Wait, does that mean you have a crush on someone? Is it me?” 

You smacked him in the head with your hand, rolling your eyes after. “You know what I mean.” 

Next to you, Jeongin mustered up a shrug as he tried getting an injured Kira to sit back down on her seat. Your stubborn best friend, after playing at an underground derby game on the weekend prior, kept on moving around because sitting down with her injuries made her uncomfortable. “But at least you make an effort for us even if it’s just small.” He reasoned out, huffing tiredly when Kira finally sits down and promises not to move for the next five minutes. You would’ve helped him but personally you thought he deserved to suffer alone after letting her go out despite her injuries today. “Haneul got dragged by Jisung to watch last week’s scrimmage and didn’t even last a set. She just left in the middle of the game—literally!”

“He made Jisung skip on my derby game to too!” Kira pouted, waving her bandaged hands frantically in the air. “I’m personally offended, Y/N!”

“And she doesn’t seem to like talking to us in general.” Hyunjin shrugged in conclusion. “Like, sports aside, she’s a bit rude and nonchalant when she talks to us in general especially when Sung isn’t around. It’s a bit sus to me.” 

“To be fair, Kira, I wouldn’t be going too if you and Yeji aren’t so insistent on it. It’s so worrying seeing the two of you get hurt.” You pointed out before averting your attention to Jeongin once more. “And Jeongin, you know the only reason I can’t leave baseball and soccer games these days is because you and Seungmin are usually my ride home.” You scoffed. “If I could, I’d be hanging out with Felix more and only going to Kira’s games. Ya, why is he even allowed to skip games and I’m not, anyway?”

“Because he’s taking classes and training with the cheerdance squad until 8 PM and as far as I’m concerned, you’re free after 12 noon like me!” Jeongin simply grinned at you, earning himself a glare. “Also, I need you here with me as the medic team. You know I’ll panic alone!” 

Fortunately, no one ever actually gets injured at any of the games regardless if they were formal or not. By the time the game has finished, you were reminding Kira to rest more at her dorms and sprinting out of the baseball field to the samgyeopsal place the team promised to treating dinner at. You completely missed the boys’ conversation on Haneul in the process but you did get free food.

You really didn’t get it. The one time you met Haneul by chance, when you and Felix bumped into the two at the mall near the supermarket, she seemed a bit distant but she could be polite when she wanted to. Of course, it rubbed you the wrong way but you and Felix thought that it was none of your business anyway, given that neither of you are dating her. 

“When the guys walked me out of the baseball field last Wednesday, they did mention something about Jisung aiming for the soccer national team but who knows if they’re exaggerating again or something.” Kira confided in you later that week when the two of you met up over lunch. “Either way, I’d understand. If I were in Jisung’s shoes, I’d feel a little disheartened if someone I really like doesn’t appreciate the things I’m passionate about!”

Still, you simply let your friends sort it out for themselves. “Jisung’s a grown-up, he can figure things out on his own at the end of the day.” You reasoned out. 

Age eighteen and three-fourths. Jisung asked—practically begged—you to go to the movies with him because he and Haneul broke up the week before his birthday after opening up his worries to her. The other ticket was meant to be a surprise for his ex-girlfriend.

From what Jeongin and Felix have gossiped to you on two separate occasions, Haneul apparently didn’t like you and the rest of Jisung’s immediate friend group no matter how many times the boys tried warming up to her and getting to know her over the summer. She didn’t really support Jisung’s passion for sports, too, and mostly just stuck around for the ‘clout of it all’ or however Felix worded it to you. 

“I’d ask Hyunjin but he has a date with that librarian!” Jisung frowned over the phone on the night before the scheduled screening of Weathering with You. Reminiscent of a similar time long ago, he sounded more like he was convincing himself than you. “And Seungmin’s taking care of Kira, Minho and Felix are training, Changbin’s doing God knows what with his finals, Chan has swim training and—and yeah, you know where I’m going with this!” 

You sighed, rolling over on your back in your bed after submitting your online work. “You can ask the baseball team, the soccer team, your Introduction to Musical Theory class, the campus radio club, and—and yeah, you also know where I’m going with this.” 

“Yeah but—but it’d be weird if I just went with anyone or something!” He mumbled under his breath, pausing on the other line to scratch his head in thought. “Come on, it’s not your midterms week yet, right? Can’t you come over and go to the movies with me?”

“You’ll probably strangle me in the dark or something.” You argued next. 

“But it’s free tickets! At least you’re going to die with free tickets!” 

“So you are planning to kill me! I knew it!” You snorted dryly, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, don’t you have anyone else to go with? Why me?” 

Jisung took in a sharp breath in the longest pause you’ve ever heard from the usually rowdy boy. At that moment, only then did you notice the faint sounds of pre-recorded dialogues for soccer arcade games. He must’ve been at the one near his dorm then as he usually was when he was contemplating on something. “I just—honestly, I’m still processing all of this and I don’t want to open up to the guys...and Eunha’s abroad and I’m not that close to Kira or Bora so I thought of you.” 

Now, it was your turn to be speechless. 

“It’s silly, I know.” Jisung continued with an awkward laugh when he didn’t hear anything on your end. “But even when you’re annoying sometimes and you always get angry at me because you always misunderstand, you’ve known me the longest and I know you listen well and you’re always open-minded about things so I thought I’d vent to you, if it’s okay...” 

You finally released a defeated sigh, sitting up properly on your bed as if he was actually in the same room as you. “God, you’re too good at making me feel guilty.” You mused out loud. “Fine, just text me the place and time and no funny business!” 

You met up with Jisung at the nearest shopping center the following night, surprise paper bags of take-out and a mini cake for two to eat at the cinema. 

“I’m only going to be nice to you this time because you just got dumped and it’s your birthday later.” You explained as serious as you can to a giggling and blushing Jisung, handing him the take-out paper bags. Once the dinner meals are in his hands, you then take out the blueberry mini cheesecake from its separate paper bag and set up the candle you brought along with it. “Now, make a wish and get it over with.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened at the pink candle suddenly being pushed up to his face, distracting him from the passersby cooing and making comments at the two of you. “Really?” 

You nodded impatiently, thrusting the cake further up his face. “Yes! Now, blow on your candles or I’ll do it myself and eat the whole thing!” 

Jisung wasted no time blowing the single candle and taking the cake from you as well, jumping up and down in place as he closed the lid carefully and returned it to its paper bag. “Thank you!” He exclaimed gleefully, pulling you to a side hug. “Now, I feel a bit better.” 

“You better.” You frowned back at him, biting down a small smile when his hug lingered on a second longer. “Now, let’s go or we’ll be late to the screening.” 

Fortunately, Jisung didn’t actually tried strangling you in the dark while the movie played since he became busy with eating his dinner and cake as well as crying over the plot. 

Age nineteen. Jisung took you to the arcade inside the shopping center after to vent while scoring kicks at the mini soccer game. 

“Basically, she said—” Score. “—that she felt annoyed that Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin were mostly onto her for ‘seeming off’ whenever they met or interacted.” Another score. Standing outside the protective fence, your gaze darted quickly between Jisung and the small net across the long room. “So I said that’s just how those guys are: they’re very curious of new people and make a lot of effort over it so when they feel that the other person’s energy seems off or doesn’t match theirs in any way, they’d worry.”

You nodded along whenever he glanced over to you, agreeing halfheartedly. “Hm, those guys don’t take bullshit, of course...”

“Yeah, right...” Jisung kicked another ball, barely missing the goal as he thinks of what to say next. “Then she started accusing the guys that they don’t like her because she doesn’t do sports which doesn’t even make sense because I know it’s not superficial like that.” He sighed, scoring again. After this particular kick, he then stopped altogether and turned to you. “The guys just feel off that, as someone I’m dating, she doesn’t make enough effort to watch my games or be familiar with the sports I love. It’s not the same thing.”  

“But does she make an effort to listen to your music?” You blurted out of nowhere, surprising not only Jisung but also yourself. 

It just occurred you to on the spot. All this talk about Jisung’s passion for sports had you thinking if Haneul also disliked the one other thing that Jisung was absolutely passionate about: his music. 

And it seemed to have caught him off-guard as it took the boy longer to contemplate on the question. “I—n-no? No...” He furrowed his brows in thought, walking over to you on his side of the chain link fence. “Come to think of it, she never told me what she thought of the songs I used to send her for feedback...”

You nodded, mumbling under your breath, “So much for defending her from everyone last summer...” 

“Hm?” 

“Like, I’d get it if your friends don’t immediately warm up to her because that really does happen in some relationships and it can be remedied over time but not appreciating the things you, the person she’s dating, are passionate about is another thing. If she doesn’t like the things you’re passionate about, then maybe she really isn’t the one you should be with.” You shrugged nonchalantly. “She could be all things nice but if she doesn’t support your own ambitions, other things that make you really happy, then everything else doesn’t mean anything.”

When he doesn’t speak, you allow yourself to continue. “Kira told me that you’re aiming for the national team in either baseball or soccer which is a bit surprising since I know you’re already being sought after for your music even at university so clearly those things are very important to you. Having someone around that doesn’t see that importance enough to make efforts is a bit meaningless in the long run, if you think about it. You...you deserve better, it’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

Still, he wouldn’t speak after everything you said. Instead, the boy just gaped at you from the fence. It definitely unnerved you as time dragged on longer. 

“I let you vent and made my own input on it like you wanted me here to and you just gape?” You tsked through your nervousness, crossing your arms teasingly and leaning over the fence on your side. “Ji, say something.” 

“...thank you.” He finally breathed out before you could complain further, catching you off-guard this time. “I needed that.” 

“What?” 

“This whole thing just made me feel really conflicting feelings.” He confessed, voice lower than usual now as he mirrored your position. “Thank you for listening and telling me what you thought. They definitely made a lot of things clearer.” 

You smiled, shoving him slightly through the fence separating the two of you. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it birthday boy?” You teased, laughing even more when he pouted at your teasing tone. “So? Feel better, then?” 

“A bit, yeah.” He nodded, grinning widely now. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N.” 

“You won’t admit it to my face but I know you’d do the same for me if I annoyed you into it enough.” You shrugged, standing up properly now and walking over to the entrance. “Now, would you let me play? You’ve been at it for twenty minutes, it’s getting tiring watching you.” 

He laughed at this as you joined him in the arcade space, kicking a soccer ball towards you as soon as you came in through the chain entrance. “What? You think you can do better?” 

“I had to watch you all the time after school back then because you were my ride home and Mrs. Han always picked us up late. I’m sure that could amount to something.” 

Age nineteen and a half. For a mandatory community service class, all of your friends signed up to volunteer at an orphanage. 

The majority vote was actually at the shelter you used to volunteer at but your old neighbourhood was too far from the university you were attending and so the most practical option, the orphanage just two blocks away, was the natural next best thing. And from this one semester’s worth of experience, you definitely learned a lot about your friends. 

For one, Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin were only popular with kids but only for their looks (additionally, his baking skills for Felix). Whenever you passed by them during volunteer hours, you would often find the three buried underneath a pile of toddlers hitting them with all kinds of toys. Feeling bad, you actually got the orphanage’s matron to assign them to the older kids after a while. 

Seungmin and Kira, on the other hand, were so awkward at first but naturally got into the groove of it. Maybe it’s because they only started dating then and everything was flustering but they surprised you the most with how much they got along with almost all of the kids regardless of age. 

Then, there was Jisung whom almost all of the younger kids practically fought over to play with at the playground. As if it was an inside joke of some sort, it made you laugh the most how the kids would often ask him to push them at the swings. 

“Careful now,” You reminded him once jokingly, elbowing his side as the two of you approached the swing set where the kids were already waiting to get pushed on their respective seats. “don’t want their knees to get scraped or something.”

He simply scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “I won’t let that happen, not at this age.” 

“So if I asked you to push me on the swings later, you won’t try and kill me this time?” You asked next, waving hello to the children before going around the swing set to gently push them to momentum. Jisung followed suit, making a beeline to his favorite, a toddler named Ara who always asked to be pushed higher on the swings. 

“That’s a trick question because we’re not actually allowed to play here.” He answered matter-of-factly, turning to Ara right after. “Isn’t that right, Ara? Y/N isn’t allowed to play here because she’s an adult, right?” 

The two of you would sit on the swing set and take turns pushing each other when the orphanage staff weren’t looking anyway, giggling amongst yourselves while watching the kids migrate to the jungle gym. 

“You were so annoying when we were kids!” You mostly complained, letting yourself laugh about it now as it was all in the distant past. “You had the ‘girls had cooties’ phase and everything.” 

“Because the boys all said it was true!” Jisung was quick to say in his defense, twisting the chains on his swing around to make himself spin. “And I was seven so of course I’d believe them that easily!” 

“What about when you pushed me from the swings?” 

“We both know that was an accident.” 

“You could’ve secretly held a grudge against me as early as that time! You were so mad when your mom made you buy me snacks!” 

“Because you told your mom that I did it on purpose! I thought you hated me even before that too.” 

“Well, I never hated you before that, just to set the record straight.” You shook your head immediately, turning your swings to the side to face him briefly. “You? Did you ever hate me?”

“Never.” He shook his head back at you in response, equally serious now. “You were annoying at times but that was because I was kinda annoying to you too.”

“What about now?” You asked next, voice unexpectedly wavering at asking such a question and even more when he chuckled at this. 

“You were with me on my what was almost my worst birthday ever just three months ago. What do you think?” He scoffed playfully, returning to his spinning to ease his flustered face. “Besides, we’re like better less-trying to kill each other all the time friends now! We’re even studying together again these days.” 

“We both know you’re only at the library since you’ve been trying to wingman Hyunjin with the librarian and dote on Jeongin like he’s your baby.” 

“What? No, I’m there for you too! Moral support!” 

Age nineteen and three-fourths. Jisung’s older brother invited you along with your parents to his wedding during the Spring break and Jisung immediately jumped on the chance to redeem himself as ‘the best dance partner you ever had.’ 

You didn’t even think he’d remember something he said himself back then. Personally, you thought it was just his guilt from pissing you off or sleepiness from dancing too much at prom that was talking then. But the moment the dance floor was opened at the rather extravagant cherry blossoms-themed wedding, the best man was by your side within seconds after sprinting from his table across the wedding hall. 

“Y/N!” He called to you as he ran to your table shared with all of your friends, your parents, and a few people from your childhood neighbourhood; his obnoxiously loud voice against the jazz music and his hand raised up above his head to wave at you catching a few guests’ attention. “Y/N!” 

Felix was about to ask you to dance after Seungmin and Kira as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin paired up, your hand already up in the air to accept his, but Jisung was quick to swat your hand away from the other boy as soon as he arrived. “Sorry, Lix, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Y/N away!” He dramatically interrupted in between tired pants, flashing the confused Felix with a sheepish grin. “I owe Y/N a very important dance!” 

“What dance?” You raised a brow, bringing your hand away from his and back to your lap. 

“The one—t-the one I promised you that night a-at prom.” He sighed, finally catching his breath after. “I promised you then, remember?” 

From the corner of your eye, Felix’s eyes lightened up in excitement as he clasped his hands together and cooed. “Aww!” He giggled, making you and Jisung turn to him after. “If that’s the case, then why should I stop you two? I’ll just see if Chan or Changbin aren’t dancing yet!” 

“But Lix!” 

The other boy’s quick to wave his hands to you snappily, shaking his head. “No buts, Y/N! You two go and do that cute promised dance thing you have going on! I’ll be fine!” He assured, much to your protests. “I knew something was going on!” 

“Nothing’s going o—“

“Thanks, Lix! I owe you, dude.” Jisung pats Felix’s shoulder appreciatively, turning to you after and taking your hand once more to pull you up into a stand. “Now, come on! My brother said he has my songs on queue!” 

He whisked you away before you could protest further, taking you to the dance floor just as the music slows down to his own song. “Right on time!” He even exclaimed happily before placing his other hand on your waist. You’ve heard this one before as the one he would always sing at the Open Mic Nights at university. “Now, to make it up to you...” 

Jisung didn’t dance so bad. He was still playful, making it a game between the two of you on who can step on the other’s feet the most when the next songs became more upbeat, but he was serious when he wanted to, sheepishly apologizing that it took him long to make it up to you. 

“I didn’t even remember it until you brought it up tonight.” You assured with a laugh as the song slowed down once more. Without even realizing it, you’ve danced all of the songs in the two-hour setlist with him. “I didn’t think it was important.” 

“Well, it is to me.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he can, visibly looking nervous towards the end. When you quietly asked him why, his only response was, “Because that night I really realized that even when I liked annoying you, I don’t like pissing you off so much to the point that you hate me.” 

And at that moment you realized that Jisung has some way of catching you off-guard so randomly. “W-What? I mean—” You wanted to joke something along the lines of ‘wow, took you long enough,’ but the words ultimately never came out as Jisung chuckled at your baffled expression. 

“I mean, trying to piss each other off, joking around, competing over studies—those are our things.” He confessed sincerely, unconsciously tightening his grip on your hand as the song progressed. “But I said something that night thinking of it as a joke and not really considering the thought that it would piss you off so much because you were so stressed already. I didn’t like pushing you on edge like that—” 

“You already apologized and everything, it’s all g—” 

“—But most importantly, I really wanted to dance with you then, regardless of the incident.” He breathed out before you could even finish your thought, rendering you speechless for the second time. “Maybe I’ve always liked you then, maybe even before that; either way, I really wanted to have one moment where we weren’t fighting or anything—and, surprisingly, even when we’ve started hanging out better, I still want one. I still like you.” 

You immediately stopped dancing, bumping shoulders with a stranger behind you which Jisung instinctively responded to by pulling your frozen form to the side of the dance floor. You pursed your lips once to speak, only managing to fumble out, “Y-You...you liked me?” 

“I said I like you. Present tense.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides immediately at sensing how tense and awkward the atmosphere suddenly became. “And I like you the way Seungmin dotes on Kira and Minho’s always protective of Bora and Jeoyeon’s been helplessly pining over Chan, those kinds in case you’re going to pull that how exactly do I like you bullshit you learned from Minho before again.”  

“I—r-really?” Was your only response as you tried your best to process this revelation. “You like me? W-Why—why me?” 

He chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yes, Y/N, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” He teased as casually as he could muster with his growing nervousness. “And why you? I don’t know, either, but I think I can start remembering as far back as the time you teased me at the playground that I push like a sissy but didn’t look for another playmate anyway. I’ve always liked you...just a little bit more now that I’m much more sure of a lot of things.” 

It was all so overwhelming, honestly, but you belatedly muster up a laugh as he recalled such a distant memory from you. “Y-You...God, Han Jisung, you’re insufferable!” You mumbled under your breath, hitting him by his arm with one hand while the other covered your mouth. “Why didn’t you say so?” 

“So, does that mean you like me too?” 

“I let you dance with me the entire night. What do you think?” You scoffed playfully, gaze softening as you looked up at his relieved smile and bright eyes. “You did push like a sissy at the playground when we were kids, though.” 

Age twenty. When Minho bought his roommate flowers to their last cheerdance competition and asked her to be his girlfriend, Hyunjin dared you to one-up the upperclassman and wear Jisung’s jersey to his own final game of the year.

“Well, you did give him that talk over dating someone who appreciates the things he loves.” Eunha told you over video call with the rest of your friend group on the day Hyunjin brought up the idea. Before you could even protest and repeatedly assure that you do support everything Jisung does, she was quick to add, “Yeah, I know you do appreciate them but I just think it’s fitting now! He’s been making a lot of effort for you lately and didn’t you say you wanted to do something in return? Maybe you can finally ask him what you’ve been wanting to ask for a while now too...” 

You hated how she was right and very convincing about it. Since the wedding earlier in the year, Jisung has been nothing short of nicer to you. From actually hanging out with you at the library now (and not just to wingman Hyunjin or dote on Jeongin), buying you food randomly, to letting you vent your own worries and unwind from school by playing soccer with you or playing you music with his guitar, he’s been ‘making it up to you’ with quality time and sweet gestures; the only catch is that he hasn’t officially asked you out like he would. 

The two of you aren’t exactly the direct words type of people but it’s still nice to have some sort of affirmation. 

With a few more coaxing on her part combined with Seungmin’s own persuasiveness nagging at you in real time, your friends eventually got Jeongin to steal one of Jisung’s spare soccer jerseys later that day to give to you for his game on the following Saturday. 

To say that Jisung was flustered is an understatement to say the least. Quickly catching you at the very front of the bleachers before the game started, he waved at you and the rest of your cheering friend group shyly, approaching only when the coach gave him permission to. 

“Hey, that’s mine.” He snickered with even more sheepishness at seeing you up close, holding the jersey he wears by its shoulders before gesturing to the identical one you wear. The two of you stand by the stairs leading down to the field, on the side where you aren’t in the way of passing players and staff. “The jersey—maybe the one wearing it too.” 

You held up the bouquet of daisies in your hands close to your face, effectively hiding the heat rising up to your neck. “I bought your favorite flowers too.” You pointed out next before gesturing to your friends sitting around you. “Those smartasses dared me to outdo Minho’s stunt at the cheerdance competition which I still think is dumb since you were in on that one but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it?” 

“Just seeing you is already enough.” He added with a flirty wink, making you cringe teasingly. “The jersey’s a really big bonus, though. I think I can score everything on this one because of you.” 

“You better or else this jerseys’ going to be mine now.” 

“I don’t mind.” He shook his head immediately, pulling you closer by the waist in his now ritual good luck hug from you and placing the flowers back on your sides. “I don’t mind calling you mine too.” 

The cheesy pick-up line makes the two of you laugh. Either way, you push yourself to not let go of him too soon. “...ew, Jisung!” You hit his back instead, heaving a sigh of relief anyway before finally pulling away from his hug to send him off. That’s enough confirmation now. “Now, go win this game and get it over with. We’re still on for movies later, right?” 

“Yep.” He assured, patting your head affectionately before boldly leaning closer again for a kiss. “I’m looking forward to it!” 

[tsumtsumland]

“bittersweet”| m.osamu x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers

warnings: public sexy time, blowjob, you know...smut... (as you can tell, I’m really bad at this lol)

author’s note: I’m so sorry that this installment is bit late, I’ve had quite a trying week and my motivation has been super low, anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

As a confectioner, high quality cocoa is an absolute must, especially around this time of year, one day until Valentine’s. The problem with that is: almost everyone is looking for high quality cocoa around this time of year. Which is how you find yourself in another part of Hyogo Prefecture, in a little-known gourmet store, which, unfortunately for you, is also full to the brim with people.

You manage to push your way through the crowd just enough to find a spot in the baking goods aisle. Your eyes frantically read through all the labels of items trying to come upon what you need. At last, when you do zero in on your precious cocoa, there’s only one left and you dash towards it.

Eyes on the prize. That’s the only thought in your head right now.

Just as you’re about to grab the tin of cocoa, another hand reaches for it. You lunge forward and grasp on at the same time. Both you and the other person’s grips are tight on the lone tin, and you refuse to budge.

“It’s mine!” you growl under your breath, not looking away from your coveted ingredient.

“I grabbed it first,” comes the low rumble of a man’s voice. Wait…a man???

That has your head snapping up, and what you don’t expect to meet is the apathetic gaze of a tall, (and you begrudgingly admit) handsome, man. He blinks at you with the same expression, as you flounder for a comeback.

“Yeah, well, well I NEED it!” you groan on the inside at your pathetic attempt at a rebuttal.

“I don’t care,” he responds, in the same tone, which only serves to rile you up more.

Both of your grips loosen on the tin, and it’s then you see it, it’s almost imperceptible, but there’s a challenging fire in his grey eyes. Not one for giving in, you match it with a glare of your own, refusing to back down even though his strangely dominant look has you wanting to retreat.

While both of you are caught up in your stare down, you completely miss the other hand that snakes behind you both and snatches the cocoa off the shelf.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this, I have chocolates to make!” you grit out at him, glancing at your watch.

“With what?” is his response as he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Wha-?” you follow his gaze as he nods toward the empty shelf behind you.

All the colour drains from your face, and an almost inaudible squeak escapes your mouth at the barren shelf.

He snorts quietly, “Looks like someone got the one up on us both,” he shrugs.

The nonchalant way he moves makes your blood pressure skyrocket, and you quite literally want to dive at him and clobber his stupidly handsome face.

“This is all your fault,” you mumble under your breath, begrudgingly, letting your shoulders drop in defeat.

“What was that?” he stops, and turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you hiss and push past him, making sure your shoulder nails him in the chest as you do.

You miss the amused smile on his face as you go.

It had been a while since Osamu met someone that piqued his interest. You had done what Suna and Atsumu like to call “the impossible.”

_____________________________________

The atmosphere in the club is hazy, and the heavy bass pounding through the speakers makes everything vibrate. You don’t want to be at this club right now, you’d rather be anywhere than here on Valentine’s in fact. Being the only single one out of all your friends, you’d somehow managed to get dragged here. Now you were stuck sitting by yourself at the bar glancing around hoping for an early escape.

The bartender places your glass of vodka cranberry on the counter, and you almost sigh in relief. At least the alcohol was making this disaster of a night, bearable. When you reach out for it, another hand does as well, gripping the glass at the same time you do.

“That’s mine,” you both say in unison.

The feeling of deja vu almost makes you choke on air. That all too familiar voice is closer to your ear this time, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It washes over your skin like velvet and makes you shiver.

Osamu doesn’t miss the way your grip on the glass tightens when he moves a little closer.

“We meet again,” he smirks, enjoying the way you bite your lip at his voice.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure,” you snap, eyes narrowing at him, still bitter over your cocoa. You had to make do with regular, cheap, cocoa, for your Valentine’s truffles, and you hated it.

“It could be,” he mumbles into your ear, sending sparks shooting up your spine, “I’m Osamu, nice to meet you…again.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Y/n…and I wish I could say the same,” you brush your hair over your shoulder and try to turn away from him.

“Don’t tell me you’re here alone, dressed like that, on Valentine’s Day,” he adds, giving you a once over in your strappy black mini dress. He was hoping you were. It was sheer dumb luck that he ended up running into you at this club his brother dragged him to, on Valentine’s Day nonetheless.

Your mouth feels dry all of a sudden when you meet his gaze, his eyes are smouldering, and they have you clenching your thighs together.

You think maybe that’s how you ended up here...crammed into a tiny, rather fancy, bathroom stall, on your knees with his cock stuffed down your throat.

Osamu’s got one of his hands gripping on to the door of the stall, and the other is tangled in your hair guiding your head back and forth

You moan in the back of your throat and the vibration on his cock makes him grip your hair even tighter. He’s biting his lip to hold back his own noises when you take him even deeper. You pull back until only the tip is in your mouth, and swirl your tongue around it, then take him back halfway in, flattening your tongue against the sensitive underside of his meaty cock. Something akin to a growl is heard from the sinfully handsome man above you, making you look up at him from under your lashes.

The top three buttons of his fitted, black dress shirt are undone, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on his exposed chest. The red lighting from the club extends to even the restrooms, and it makes him look even more delicious…like something out of a movie (what kind of movie is up to you). He’s breathing heavily and looking down at you with that dark, but fiery gaze again. You rub your thighs together, trying to give yourself some friction.

Osamu smirks devilishly when he notices your movements, “You want to cum too, baby girl?”

You can only whine with his cock stuffed in your mouth. He yanks your head back by your hair and meets your eyes.

“Answer me when I talk to you,” the tenor of his voice is low but commanding.

“Y-yes,” you gasp out, taking the time to wipe a stray tear from the side of your face.

Osamu’s thumb grazes over the tear track almost gently, before he pushes your head back towards his cock.

“I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry,” he promises.

That fuels your need to get him off even more, you want to see this calm and collected man fall apart in your mouth.

It doesn’t take long either, a few more thrusts into your mouth that have you gagging on his length, and spurts of hot cum are flowing onto your tongue, you swallow eagerly. He pulls back when you claw at his thighs when it becomes too much.  He lets the rest paint your face and exposed cleavage.

When his orgasm fades, he fixes his clothes and helps you off the floor, making sure you’re steady before letting go. He grabs some of the toilet paper, cleaning up your face and chest as much as he could.

“Well, that was…” you begin awkwardly, taking the tissue from him and tossing it in the bin.

“Fucking amazing,” he finishes unabashedly, making a blush crawl up your neck and cheeks.

He tiptoes and looks over the stall to make sure the coast is clear. It isn’t, but it’s less people than there usually is. He drags you out with him despite your squeaks of protest.

You apologize to the few women scattered around the sink and quickly wash your hands and mouth and try to look presentable again. It didn’t exactly work, but hey, at least there weren’t any tell-tale signs of cum on your black dress.

He chuckles when you drag him out of the restroom quickly, trying to lose yourself in the throngs of people. You don’t get far before he pulls you back against him, pressing your ass flush against his prominent erection.

“I owe you an orgasm,” he mumbles against your ear, as if it’s the most normal thing to be saying.

One of his hands snakes over the front of your thighs and up under your dress, ghosting over your embarrassingly soaked panties.

“For me?” he hums lowly, his pointer and middle finger tracing the slit between your legs.

You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips, grateful that the room is so loud and crowded that no one notices, your head nodding involuntarily. You gasp and swat his hand away when you feel his finger dip in between your folds.

“Not here!” you hiss, regaining control of your brain momentarily.

Just as he’s about to respond, someone calls his name and he looks up, removing his hand swiftly and pulling you to his side.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see an identical copy of the man standing next to you, in front of you, the only difference is his hair colour.

“What do you want Tsumu?” Osamu drawls.

“Ya! Where’d you go?!” Atsumu asks. “Oh hello,” he flashes you a grin and slides closer to you, only stopping when his brother puts a firm hand on his shoulder and shoves him back.

“Back off!” Osamu glowers at him.

Atsumu smirks knowingly at the both of you, though you’re nothing but confused by this entire encounter.

“Go on then,” he tells you both and turns to lose himself in the crowd of squealing girls behind him.

Osamu rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and follows a different pathway to the exit.

“Where are we going?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Home, I’m hungry,” is his reply, and it makes you clench around nothing in anticipation.

Taglist: @kiyoo-omi @vs-redemption @mitzuya

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep.