#and i have a really intense and scary sounding cough and no voice

[auntie-histamine]

I'm doing great 👍

[pr3ttym3l]

sick day (nightowl fan fic!!)

Nightowl: (gently tucking a blanket around Y/N) “You’re going to get better, cutie. I promise! Just rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

Y/N: (sniffling) “Thanks, Nightowl. You’re always so sweet. I just… I hate feeling like this.”

Nightowl: (smiling) “I know, but you’re doing great. Here, sip some tea. It’ll help.”

(Y/N takes a small sip, then sneezes softly. Nightowl chuckles, leaning closer.)

Nightowl: “Bless you! You’re still adorable, you know that?”

(Y/N blushes, managing a shy smile. Nightowl leans in, brushing a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear, their eyes sparkling.)

Y/N: “You’re just saying that because you’re being nice…”

Nightowl: “No, really! You’re cutie even when you’re sick.”

(Feeling bold, Nightowl leans in and kisses Y/N deeply. It’s tender, filled with warmth and care. They pull back, both surprised by the intensity.)

Y/N: “Wow… that was nice.”

Nightowl: (grinning) “I thought so too! But, uh… maybe not the best idea considering…”

(They both start to cough, realizing that Nightowl just caught Y/N's cold.)

Y/N: (giggling softly) “Looks like we’re in this together now.”

Nightowl: “Great! Double the cuddles, double the tea! But we might need some help.”

Y/N: “Who can we call?”

Nightowl: “Let’s get Quest! He always knows what to do.”

(Nightowl picks up the phone, trying to stifle a cough as he dials.)

Nightowl: “Hey, Quest! We need some serious rescue help over here.”

Quest: (voice from the other end) “Uh-oh, you two are both sick? I’m on my way with soup and medicine! Hold tight!”

(As they hang up, Nightowl leans against Y/N, smiling despite the situation.)

Nightowl: “Guess we’ll be stuck together for a bit. Ready for a sick day adventure?”

Y/N: “As long as it’s with you, I’m ready.”

(They settle back into the blankets, smiles on their faces, knowing they’ll get through this together—with a little help from their friend.)

(The doorbell rings, and Nightowl stumbles to answer it, feeling a bit wobbly but determined.)

Quest: (walking in with a big pot of soup and a bag of medicine) “Whoa! You two look like you’ve been through a blender! What happened?”

Y/N: (smiling weakly) “Just a little cold… and maybe a kiss that went too far.”

Quest: (raising an eyebrow, smirking) “A kiss, huh? Sounds like it was worth it! But now you’re both sick. Classic.”

Nightowl: “Yeah, we were just being all cute and then—bam! Sick combo.”

Quest: (setting down the soup) “Alright, time for some magic soup. This’ll fix you right up!”

(He ladles the soup into bowls, the steam rising and filling the room with warmth.)

Y/N: “You always know how to make everything better, Quest. Thank you.”

Quest: “Just doing my best! Now, eat up. You two need your strength back.”

(As they dig into the soup, Nightowl tries to be cheerful, but he sneezes dramatically, causing Y/N to giggle.)

Nightowl: (grinning) “Okay, maybe I’m not quite as strong as I thought.”

Y/N: “You’re still my hero, even if you’re a sneezy one.”

Quest: (teasingly) “The great Nightowl brought low by a little cold. What would your fans say?”

Nightowl: (laughing) “They’d probably laugh! But hey, you’re here to save the day. Super Quest to the rescue!”

(After finishing the soup, they settle back on the couch, wrapped in blankets.)

Quest: “So, what’s the plan? More movies? Blanket forts? I can build a fort if you want!”

Y/N: “A blanket fort sounds amazing right now!”

Nightowl: “Count me in! We’ll make it the coziest fort ever.”

Quest: “Alright! I’ll gather supplies while you two pick a movie. Just remember, no scary ones—you need rest!”

(They giggle as Quest heads to gather more blankets and pillows, leaving Y/N and Nightowl to browse through movies.)

Y/N: (softly) “I’m really glad you’re here, Nightowl. It makes being sick a little less terrible.”

Nightowl: (smiling) “Me too. And once we’re better, we can have a real adventure—just us. But for now, I wouldn’t trade this time for anything.”

(They share a tender moment, eyes sparkling, then turn back to the screen to pick a light-hearted movie.)

(Quest returns, arms loaded with blankets, and starts building the fort.)

Quest: “Alright, fort is ready! Let’s get inside before the cold gets us!”

Nightowl: “Lead the way, Captain Quest!”

(They crawl into the blanket fort, laughter echoing as Quest starts the movie, the three of them huddled close together.)

Y/N: “This is perfect. Just what I needed.”

Nightowl: “Agreed. Cuddles, soup, and good company. Who could ask for more?”

(As the movie plays, they feel the warmth of friendship and love wrap around them like the blankets, making the sickness a little less

(As the movie plays, the sounds of laughter and lighthearted dialogue fill the fort.)

Quest: (leaning back against the cushions) “This is the perfect setup! If only we could make this our permanent hangout.”

Y/N: (snuggling closer to Nightowl) “I could get used to this. Just the three of us, hiding from the world.”

Nightowl: “Absolutely! We could have blanket fort parties every weekend. No sick days allowed!”

Quest: “Deal! Just as long as there’s soup and movie marathons.”

(As the plot thickens on screen, Y/N sneezes again, and Nightowl instinctively reaches over to hand them a tissue.)

Y/N: “Thanks,owl.”

Nightowl: “Always! Just trying to be a good partner. But honestly, I think the soup Quest made is working wonders.”

(Quest pretends to flex his arms.)

Quest: “Super chef skills! I should add that to my resume.”

Y/N: “You could be a professional soup maker. ‘Quest’s Souper Delights’!”

Nightowl: “I’d be your first customer! I’d order soup for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

(As the movie progresses, Nightowl feels a sudden wave of dizziness. He leans back against the fort wall, closing his eyes for a moment.)

Y/N: “You okay, Nightowl?”

Nightowl: (opening his eyes) “Yeah, just a little lightheaded. Guess the cold’s hitting me harder than I thought.”

Quest: (concerned) “You need to drink more fluids. I can get you some water!”

Nightowl: “No, it’s okay. I’ll manage.”

Y/N: (softly) “You need to take care of yourself too. We’re in this together, remember?”

Nightowl: (smiling) “You’re right. It’s just hard to focus when you look so cute all snuggled up.”

(Y/N blushes, and Quest rolls his eyes playfully.)

Quest: “Alright, lovebirds! Let’s focus on getting healthy so we can have our adventures. No more mushy stuff for now—save it for the recovery party!”

(They continue watching the movie, sharing jokes and comments. As it nears the end, Nightowl starts to feel worse, leaning heavily against Y/N.)

Y/N: “Hey, how about we pause? You look like you could use a break.”

Nightowl: “Maybe just a quick rest. I’ll be fine, promise.”

(Quest glances at Y/N, a knowing look passing between them.)

Quest: “You both need to rest. How about I take over the movie for a bit while you two close your eyes?”

Nightowl: “You’re too good to us, Quest.”

Y/N: “Yeah, thank you. We’re lucky to have you.”

(Nightowl reluctantly nestles closer to Y/N, letting his eyes flutter shut. Quest takes over the remote, selecting a lighter movie, the comforting sound filling the fort.)

(A little while later, Y/N feels Nightowl’s breathing become steady, indicating he’s fallen asleep. They smile softly, gently brushing their fingers through his hair.)

Y/N: (whispering) “You always take such good care of me, even when you’re not feeling well.”

Quest: (smirking) “Looks like we’ve got a true night owl here. But he needs to learn to rest too.”

(Y/N nods, a hint of concern in their eyes.)

Y/N: “I’ll make sure he does. Once we’re both better, I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Quest: “That’s the spirit! Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”

(As the movie continues, Quest looks over at Nightowl, who stirs slightly but stays asleep.)

Quest: “You know, this is nice. I love seeing you both like this. It’s rare to have such a cozy day together.”

Y/N: “Yeah, it really is. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it.”

(They share a comfortable silence, the warmth of the fort enveloping them.)

Quest: “Let’s make a pact. Once we’re all healthy, we’ll have a big celebration. A ‘we beat the flu’ party!”

Y/N: “I’m in! We’ll invite everyone, make it a whole thing!”

Nightowl: (sleepily stirring) “Did someone say party?”

(Both Y/N and Quest chuckle, knowing they’re in for some silly fun once they’re back on their feet.)

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

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[alldayangst]

lovebug (Tom Holland)

GIF is from gaybuckybarnes here on Tumblr. You can access my masterlist here. This was written for @worldoftom’s lolbrosgetsicktoochallenge. The prompt I had was: ‘Tom self diagnoses himself as sick. He’s got all the symptoms. He’s speechless, over the edge and just breathless. He never thought he’d get hit by the ‘love-bug’ again’. Inspired by the song Lovebug by Jonas Brothers!

A/N: Y/N is an assistant director on Cherry in this fic. This has a lot of Cherry (the movie) references but most are explained if you haven’t seen the film. Such as, it was filmed in Cleveland and Morocco, directed by Joe and Anthony Russo. Some scenes in this fic borrow from the movie & I’ve linked clips from the film if you’d like to listen/watch along. WC: 4K.

“Yeah, Mum, I’ve just got like the sorest throat at the moment.” Nikki’s picture cuts in and out on a scrambled screen on the South side of London, her husband’s hand periodically reaching out for her, rubbing her shoulder, then leaving the frame almost as quickly as it came in. Even through the low quality, the pixels dashing about his screen, Tom can make out his mother’s brows knitting together and can’t remove the feeling of utter guilt when he sees her grow redder and redder out of anger, concern and confusion for her son. “But I’ve got Harry here with me.” Harry waves from behind his brother, his trusty mug swapped for a Phoenix Coffee Cup in his spare hand, just to get a taste of the States.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He barely drinks coffee on the other side of the pond, and would bet good money that an at home PG Tips would beat America’s swankiest coffee joint any day. But now, he’s betrayed his usual routine and his body’s all out of whack and his throat is hoarse, he’s breathless even at times.

Harry shoots his mum a half smile to comfort her, but he doesn’t know what it's like to be a mother, and his and Tom’s mouth both form an ‘O’ when Nikki begins to type so hard her screen jolts and Tom swears she’s put a dent in it. “You know what? I’m going to give them a piece of my mind, Tom! They’re overworking you!” Nikki looks intensely to find her baby boy in drug-addled eyes and his jungle of curls on his newly shaven head. She guesses it becomes easier when Tom pushes his face halfway into the screen and pleads like the child he’ll always be to her, “Please, please Mum! I can’t have any days off. Under any circumstances, I need to finish this film!”

Tom turns to his younger brother for help. “Tell her, Harry!”

And as little brothers do best, Harry spills the beans as soon as Tom’s phone is in clutch. “Tom’s fallen in love with the first A.D., Y/N.”

Nikki immediately loses her frown, knowing how love can knock Tom off his feet and blow all the wind out of him. Tom’s father, Dom, re-enters the frame to match Nikki’s grin. He never misses an opportunity to tease. “Oo, caught a case of the love bug, have you?”

Harry has to whip the phone around to dodge Tom’s protesting arms reaching for it again. “Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot.” Harry mutters. Tom’s family doesn’t budge any further, knowing how bad Tom was hurt after his last relationship. They weren't sure when the love bug would come back to bite him again. So after they all shared a knowing look, Harry handed Tom his phone back. “I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.”

It all started five weeks ago. Tom, at 24, was beginning to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound.  Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour.

He’d say, perhaps, you were the closest thing to the real deal. The problem was, he didn’t know if you liked him back.

“When life was beginning, I saw -”

“When life was-”

“When life was be-fuck!���

“When life was beginning, I saw you.”

Tom could make a picture book out of the day he first met you. He remembers how your hair looked that day, the speckles of genuinity in your eyes, how your ear-to-ear smile seemed to be a mirror because every time he saw you from then on, he brandished the same beam. He recalls how his eyes went low as he dropped his script to his lap and stared at your lips, so soft and kissable, as you repeated his words back to him: “When life was beginning, I saw you.” Then you chuckled softly as Tom waited patiently for his head and his heart to return to him.

“I’m sorry. I’m dyslexic. I have a bit of trouble reading.”

“It’s cool, I'm the first A.D. That’s what I’m here for.”

You rubbed your hands on the back of your trousers, your mic jostling in your back pocket as you attempted to rid yourself of your nervous, sweaty palms.

“I’m Y/N.” You reached out for a shake only for Tom to cough loudly into his own hand. 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry! That wasn’t me trying to get out of your handshake. I- I-.” Tom looked at his hand for it had failed him for the first time in his life. His hand that had helped him up during handstands, being his crutch through cartwheels and backflips, but had decidedly run out of luck to be on the receiving end of Tom’s monstrous cough impending a handshake with someone his eyes just couldn’t look away from.

You laugh again. Your laugh sounds like melody, Tom muses. Awestruck, he wishes he could play it again, repeat it like a radio hit and never wash himself of the feeling he got when he heard your laugh for the first time.

“It’s all good. I’ll see you around.” You disappear from his trailer, likely on a venture to your own, when Joe and Anthony block his view of you walking away.

Anthony and Joe take on the ghost of you in Tom’s room, “Tom! The man, the myth and the legend!” Joe comes behind him to rub his newly hairless head. “We’re so glad you agreed to do this movie!” 

“Bummed that you’re not coming to the Browns game tonight, though.” Anthony remarks, throwing a football at Joe who sets it in his lap.

“Harry and I, we’re British, mate. We play football with our feet.”

Joe doesn’t know it then, but his next words are the beginning of the end for Tom. He rubs on his football and looks Tom in his eye when he poses, “It’s a shame ‘cause the whole crew’s going. First day of filming celebrations.”

“The whole crew?”

Anthony mumbles an ‘mhm’ as he picks up a framed photo of Tom and RDJ sitting pretty on Tom’s dresser, posing like father and son.

Tom’s usually self assured when he’s on set, but he’s hesitant to say this next improvised line. His voice trails off as he speaks. “Including Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Joe queries, with a smile that’s half scary and half comforting, and the butterflies in Tom’s stomach are begging him not to fuck this up and suddenly every second a word is not spoken feels like hours have passed and he might have ruined things before they’ve even started, gosh he just met you and-

Tom tries to play it cool. “I don’t- they’re cool.” Tom coughs again. “I mean, I don’t really know them but Y/N seems cool I guess.”

Anthony and Joe smile at each other, scrambling to exit. “Whole crew’s going, baby!” Joe beams.

“Please don’t tell Y/N I asked!” Tom shouts before they’re out of earshot.

“Yeah, yeah. Anthony, go long!”

A few hours later, Tom was sitting next to an unamused Harry, you on his left, foam fingers pointing every which way. 

“Are you a big football fan?” Tom asked, imposter syndrome creeping up on him. He had the best seats in the house, but knew not a thing about this sport he’d come down to watch. Meanwhile, crew and crowd alike sat themselves around you guys, cheering leaving throats raw for days to come and a tussle for a foam finger between Joe and Anthony leading to hundreds of sugary popcorn shells scattered on the stadium floor.

“I mean, I wouldn’t ever turn down the option to look at Odell Beckham Jr. Are you?” you replied.

Tom looked over to his brother who sat with his chin in his hand, lips pulled into a thin straight line as his rusty curls were blown about from the wind of brown and orange flags flown from fans behind him. “We could learn to love it.” Tom flashed you a toothy grin, unsure of where to guide the conversation next. He knew for sure that he wanted to keep talking to you, but his ego began putting up a fight, eager to show himself off if you’d have him in any way. Tom sighed. “Truth is, we have no fucking clue what’s going on.” Tom could hear the commentary about a player reaching the end zone, but they were all just words that went into one ear then came straight out of the other.

You giggled. “I have no idea either. We could make up our own rules if you want.”

Tom likes the way you think. He also likes the way you speak. He loves the way you laugh.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” 

You covered your mouth. “Oh, fuck, I hate my laugh!”

“I’d make you laugh a thousand times if I could.”

You pointed to the jumbo screen as Mayfield made a touchdown, unable to stop laughing from sheer nerves as you felt Tom’s hot, burning haze on you. An advert for Cleveland’s Own Phoenix Coffee flashed on the screen as you spoke. “We’ll make our own rules. Every time we see the quarterback pick up the ball, we’ll cheer.”

By the end of the night, Tom is speechless, breathless and over the edge of his chair in faux excitement and anticipation of the quarterback receiving the ball once again. 

“Another coffee?” The service worker asked.

“Yes please!” You and Tom both say in unison, pumped as the quarterback began circling around to collect the ball in open arms.

The footage of the game is cut abruptly as the camera points to a confused, solo Harry; Anthony and Joe are seen at the edge of the frame whispering suggestively and pointing towards Tom, the camera eventually capturing the superstar who looks back up at his own reflection. Poorly green screened hearts flood the screen and the camera pans to include you in the frame too. Tom looks on in horror when he realises what’s going on and how it could be too late, and turns to you.

“I promise I didn’t know this was going on. We don’t have to.” Tom panics. 

You hear him loud and clear, that you don’t have to, but your heart and eleven thousand people are telling you to kiss him otherwise. “Oh well. We should just do it.” you murmur, the bright pink ‘KISSCAM’ logo flashing in and out.

It doesn’t take more than a moment for the gap between you and Tom to close, for your face to get lost behind his, his lips pressing against yours, eyes closed, trusting each other to share your air. This was probably the first thing that night worth cheering for, howls and whistles erupting around you. 

Tom doesn’t understand American football, but he thinks that the best seats in the house could be anywhere next to you.

Harry’s on the phone to his twin brother, Sam, when you and the rest of the crew make it back to the hotel later on. “-Yeah, and Tom spent half the night with the first A.D. cheering and screaming at fuck all.”

The Cleveland Browns lost that night, but Tom remains none the wiser. He stood in the doorway as Harry continued to relay his day to Sam. “Oh, and Tom, Mum said to give her a call, eavesdropper.” He flicks Tom’s reddening nose before closing the door.

A week and a half later, Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. He never has the time anymore to attend ‘real’ football games back home, and he actually understands the game back in Britain. But now, he’s cheered at almost every given opportunity to impress you stupidly, and his chest and voice is suffering as a consequence.

You and Tom walked onto set with your pinkies intertwined, growing closer and closer by the minute, but Tom doesn’t miss how Ciara’s boyfriend visits set every day for her, doesn’t miss how they rub their nose together in this lovey-dovey affection he wishes he could bestow upon you.

The scene wasn’t working.

The crew was beginning to grow restless and Tom silently became more frustrated as the minutes went by and he was unable to get his lines right. He remembers how a week ago, it felt so easy. You were there to correct him when he stumbled upon his lines and you picked him up so effortlessly, a twinkling smile on your face. But then? Then you were different. Your eyes were scrunched up behind the lens of the camera and you were mumbling something to Anthony about how the sun was due to go down in Ohio soon so you needed to hurry along.

“Alright.” you announced. “Take five!”

And Tom was thankful, Ciara perched upon a swing for the scene they were filming, Tom dwindling the rope of the swing under his finger as her boyfriend approached her once again. “Hey dude, are you okay?”

Ciara looked at Tom with the same concern, hands finding home in her boyfriend’s nest of hair. “Yeah, Tom, are you okay?”

Tom coughed into his hand. “Yeah, guys, I’m good.”

“I think you’re coming down with a nasty cough.” Ciara muttered.

“Yeah. It’s you guys. You’re too cute. You make me sick.” Tom laughed humourlessly for a short while, wanting to be that adorable with someone, maybe not anyone, maybe just with you someday. Then Tom shook his head, a bitter feeling in his throat as he yawned. “It’s the Browns game. I was yelling and screaming every time a quarterback got the ball. Of course I’m a little unwell. I’ll be good as new in a few days though.”

Ciara already knew Tom wasn’t playing a man with the healthiest of habits, but she worried that Tom was getting this bad this early. “Maybe you should talk to the first A.D. about reducing shoot days from five to three?”

Tom didn’t like the prospect of seeing you less. “Yeah.” Harry had a clapperboard between his hands, leading Tom’s eyebrows to furrow as his brother yelled something about it being take 13. “Maybe.” 

Harry resumed to a new position in your chair, with you taking Harry’s place right across from Tom, a coffee waiting for him when the scene was over like Harry always did. Ciara’s boyfriend left the frame to watch supportively on the sidelines.

“Lights. Camera. Action!” Anthony called. “Time is money, you guys! Let’s try to get this one right this time.” 

They’d been over this already twelve times today.

“Hey, I’m really happy you’re here.”

Ciara read her line back. “Why’s that?” 

Tom could hear whispers of the crew, the sound guy glaring at them in case they were picked up in the scene, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that he couldn’t for some reason get the next line out all day. And that reason, unbeknownst to everyone, was because Tom couldn’t say something he didn’t mean - feeling like his heart was locked in a cage for which only you had the key. He looked past his co-star, Ciara, and up at you; feeling so close but you were far away, leaving him all day without anything to say. And overcoming his speechlessness and breathlessness, even in just that moment, he ran his hand over the rope to say, “Cause I like you. A lot.”

Ciara and the rest of the crew broke into a wide smile once Tom finally spoke his next line, but the only person Tom was focused on was you, who wasn’t smiling, but mouthing his words back to him.

Ciara breathed, “Shut up.”

And Tom’s sure to look you in the eye when he says, “I really do.”

When the filming for the day is said and done, Tom makes a beeline for you across the greenery. You hand over his coffee to him, “It’s a little cold now, but a warm hand is holding it.”

Tom quirks an eyebrow. “Are you inviting me to hold your hand?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You swapped jobs with Harry, I saw.”

“Yeah, well. It’s good he gets to grips with the job now. You know, in case anything changes.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket. “I should probably give you my number. In case anything changes.”

“Oh no, yeah. Your number is?”

“216-XXX-XXX. Speaking of changes, I heard you’re trying to get your days reduced.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom looks at your face that bears no trace of guilt. “You’re just like me!” He pulls you close.

“Tom, if what happened today is because you’re working too much, I’m happy to reduce your time.”

“Nah, nah.” Tom sniffles, rubbing his nose on a jacket probably worth more than your life. “I’m just a bit sick, s’all. I’ll be fine.”

Two weeks pass and Tom’s no better. With the Cleveland game nearly a month ago, Tom has nothing to blame and as first A.D., you’re obligated to reduce his hours. Tom’s on the phone with his mother when you approach his trailer. 

“Don’t listen to Harry. I’m not in love. I just like Y/N.”

“A lot. I’ll keep you updated. Bye, Mum.” 

You’re so quick to skip happily back to your trailer that you miss Harry calling out to his brother, he’s his protector now that his mother was countries apart. “Tom?” Harry starts.

Tom mumbles an ‘mhm’, hoping Harry would make it quick as he sees you FaceTiming him. If only his mother could see him like this. He’d get to call her tomorrow and tell her he’d called you for the first time yesterday, he could hardly wait to utter, 'I've finally found the missing part of me’. Harry sighs as the FaceTime ringing is relentless. Tom’s eyebrows threaten to meet in the middle of his face as he clutches onto his phone.

“Tom.” Harry begins. “Y/N is giving up assistant director.”

Tom’s really not sure where Harry gets the source of his information from, but he’s sure this isn’t true. He thinks you’d tell him before his brother if you were leaving the film behind, leaving him behind.

The film is due to move filming to Morocco soon, and Tom’s well aware that not all film crew joins them when production moves abroad, but to Tom, you’re an extension of this movie universe. And Tom refuses to leave the memories of you in this filming cycle. “How’d you know?”

“I’m taking over.” Tom’s screen lights up with the glow of your call, and as bright as it is, as bright as you are, as bright as your smile surely is on the other end of the phone call, Tom’s in his deepest darkest feelings wondering how he fooled himself into thinking romance could go right for him this time. 

He’s going to Morocco. You’re not. You’re funny, smart, promising, beautiful. You’ll find someone good for you, a better pair by the time he’s back.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t work out, man.” Tom sulks in his bed, the light from your constant calls bleeding through his bed sheets. “I just wanted to warn you.” Tom nods, screaming into his pillow. Harry decides that’s his cue to leave, a glimmer of light from outside seeping through the crack of the door as Harry escorts himself. Tom musters all his might and courage to reluctantly answer your phone, the ear-to-ear grin he knows so well greeting him once again.

Suddenly, he forgot how to speak. Hopeless, breathless, couldn’t you see that?

“Tom?” You call out his name a few times before cutting straight to the point. “Do you like me?”

Tom shifts slightly but not enough to show that he’s alarmed. “Huh? Yeah, I like you.”

He sits up, but doesn’t reciprocate the outrageous smile you wear like a heart on your sleeve. Tom’s eyes are sunken, dark circles forming under his eyes where he and his disturbed character become one. You suddenly remember why you shouldn’t have run away so fast, perhaps Tom was overworking himself. He continues, “But I’m an emotionally unavailable hopeless romantic. So I wouldn’t waste your time on me.”

Tom can’t help the hurt in his heart when he sees your smile drop so suddenly, knowing it was earnest. “Tom, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, life is unfair. And I’m gonna quit while I’m ahead. We wouldn’t work out. And I like our friendship now. We should stay that way.”

You’re not convincing when you nod rapidly, not letting Tom see your face as you play with your fingers to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, I agree.” You’re much less convincing when the last frame Tom caught of you was a shot of tears dripping down your face, as three rings followed you. Tom’s screen went black in your absence, and Tom falls asleep with eyes even redder from crying, and he wonders when he’s gonna shake this sickness.

It’d been a few days since Tom had got his shots to allow him to go to Morocco. He sat opposite the doctor on set, a coffee cup placed on the desk between him.

Tom reckons that's why he’s sick. Shots always have their side effects, and he’d taken multiple shots in one day. And now, he specifically asked for you to hold his hand during the process, Harry branded in a glinting jaw-drop, only for you to leave directly after. 

“I’m speechless, constantly feeling over the edge, breathless.” Tom explains his symptoms to the doctor. “At first I thought it was because of that stupid football game, then all the coffee I’m drinking, now I don’t know if it’s the shots. I feel like shit, doc.”

“I know exactly what you’re dealing with.”

“What?”

“Lovebug.”

Tom stares at the doctor in utter bewilderment. “You figured that out based on my symptoms?”

“I figured that out based on the puppy dog eyes you gave for your first A.D. when they left without a word.” The doctor begins to laugh softly, but Tom is unamused. How is he supposed to shake this illness after completely ruining your relationship? How is he supposed to mend your bond after talking so recklessly, so emotionally? “Tom, I’m not here to be a fairy godmother, I’m being strictly medical. At a certain point, what you feel in your mind affects your body. So I prescribe that you talk to Y/N and say everything you need to say.”

And while that seemed easy enough, Tom’s ego was at work again, and Tom was feeling far too bruised and wounded to speak to you first. Surely if you cared enough, if you liked him back, if you were willing to be distanced, you would reach out first.

It seems Tom’s pride had forgotten that you already did.

“I heard that this is the exact shit that happened in Cleveland, and he couldn’t get the line out.” Tom hears the whisperings from behind the camera, the amount of familiar faces in the crew dwindling after the change in location. He doesn’t respond. He waits for someone to take five. And when no one throws him a bone, he asks Harry to.

“Alright, everyone take five.”

“Someone get this kid a fucking coffee, he’s always on edge.” Joe instructs.

“And you think giving a kid in twenties coffee is taking him off edge?” Anthony chuckles.

Tom doesn’t care whether or not he gets the coffee, rocking side to side. He’s got all the motion for this role, but he feels nothing. All he felt was for you.

“Here.” Harry sets a Moroccan mint tea down next to Tom, hoping it would calm him down. When Tom takes a few sips, the look in his eyes is less pleading, and everyone’s ready to rumble, this being the last scene of the day.

Harry feeds Tom the line. “Baby, are you seeing bad things?” Tom is seeing bad things. A life without love, a life without you. Unable to contain it all, Tom turns his frustration into laughter. “Why are you calling me baby for, man?” Tom has this ear-to-ear grin but even he feels it's not as innocent, as genuine as yours. He never knew a smile so wide could be so full of pain.

“I have an idea.” Harry saunters off to collect his phone. “Don’t stop rolling the cameras.”

When Harry comes back, there’s sounds of shifting erupting from his phone. “Hi, Tom.” 

Tom didn’t know it would be so bittersweet to hear your voice again. He wasn’t sure if he should put walls up again or if twice was the charm. Even if you worked out in the short term, whose to say Tom wouldn’t get hurt again? And Tom wouldn’t want to hurt you.

“Are they taking good care of you out there? I don’t think I took good care of you.” Tom doesn’t say anything on the other side of the line, so you continue. “I’m not a good A.D. if you’re always sick and tired, and I didn’t want to see you any less, which was selfish of me, so I didn’t change your schedule.” You sigh as you admit why you left. “When you asked, though, I swear I was gonna do it, but then I heard you liked me, and I got carried away. I had to remove myself from the situation to do what’s best for you. Do you understand me? I did it for you.”

“I, uh, I got a diagnosis.” Tom stumbles.

“Oh my gosh, are you seriously sick?”

“I’m speechless. Over the edge, breathless.” Tom laughed dryly, finally feeling like he can choose an ending.

“What did they say it was?”

“Lovebug.” Harry smiles softly at his brother.

Your laugh is like nectar entering Tom’s ear.

“I might just love you way too much, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” Tom tries his best not to sound dejected that you didn’t say it back, knowing he’s already felt the brunt of this heartache already.

“I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too. I love you.” Joe stops recording, and Harry lowly whispers ‘take.fucking.five.’ as he and the crew creep away from Tom’s new found love scene. 

“Anthony, can I borrow your phone?” Harry begins to type Nikki’s number as soon as Anthony gives over the phone. “Mum, Tom just told the first A.D. he’s in love with them so guess who’s out of a job?”

Tom knows why he’s sick. He used to feel like love was trudging up a high hill he couldn’t come down from, where every beat of heart was feeling like an ache on an open wound. Tom had yet to meet a lover to prove distance makes the heart grow fonder, finding himself in six month long entanglements and illusions of love before things inevitably went sour. But now, Tom has found you.

[ickymichi]

𝐨𝐡 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!

𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

<3 summary: you didn’t know you were failing that badly for him to make you stay back. but you weren’t complaining when he brought you to his office and locked the door.

<3 word count: 3.5k

<3 warnings: nsfw, swearing, soft levi and fluff at then end cause we love soft levi in this house.

<3 nsfw warnings: age gap(reader is of age), degradation, spanking, hair pulling, male oral reciving.

<3 note: this was requested by @jahanaraaaa and i just had to write it straight away cause it sent me into my monthly levi brianrot. tysm for the request & wait my dear i loved it so so much.<//3 but if you enjoyed please like n’ reblog, it’s greatly appreciated!

all contents belongs to fckyaeger 2021. please do not repost/modify on this or any other platform.

The noise of his expensive dress shoes clicking as he moved across and black the laminate floor and his deep monotone voice was slowly putting you and others to sleep. But you had to fight it because you didn’t fancy getting an earful from your professor Mr. Ackerman. Well maybe you would, it’s no lie he’s extremely attractive and you’ve always had an attraction to men older than you. His bare ring finger gave you evidence that he probably wasn’t seeing anyone so it didn’t make you feel guilty about your not so little crush on the man.

“that’s it for today then, and don’t forget the assignment this time. Looking at you yeager.” His deep voice shook you from your daydream and the class was already over. ‘perfect this was the last one! Get me to be-’ “(y/n) stay back, I need a word”. Huh? Did he notice you falling in and out of sleep? we’re you failing his class? Well probably he always gave such difficult class test every week. But was it bad enough for him to make you stay behind?

Packing up your things you made your way down the small steps to where he leant against his wood desk. “you wanted to talk to me sir?”. You spoke with you arms folded, quite frankly annoyed he ruined your plans to sleep for the rest of the day- but also intrigued in what he wanted. you lifted your gaze from checking the time on your phone to his face when you didn’t get an answer. The action was a mistake because you were met with his steel silver eyes looking back at you and the sleeves of his dress shirt straining against his biceps and across his chest made him look irresistible. Shit he definitely saw you staring earlier, shit shit sh- “come with me.” He suddenly spoke up and pushed himself off his desk to walk in-front of you and towards the door at the side of the room. Quickly you followed his long strides, Not knowing where you were going but in the moment you didn’t really care.

Finally he stopped in-front of a door and unlocked it before stepping aside to let you in. walking to one of the two seats sitting before the large wooden desk you sat one one of them and waiting for him to take his place behind the desk. Hearing the click of the lock made you jump slightly and turn around to see him making his way to you with one hand in his pocket. “don’t look so excited, just having a little chat is all.” Fuck is it that noticeable? Well with the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, how your skirt riding up slightly and you don’t move to fix it, it definitely is. “so then, any idea why I went to the trouble of taking my free time to bring you here?”. Why is he acting like you asked for this? “I dunno Mr. Ackerman, maybe is it that you just love chatting to me?.” You could physically see his eyebrow twitch, moving to place his elbow on the arm of the chair and rest his face against his palm he sighed quiet loudly. “maybe I should’ve payed more attention to that attitude of yours”. You bring a hand to your chest and put on your best fake ‘what? Me?’ face. “me? Have an attitude? you’ve got the wrong student i’m afraid, i’ve always been the teachers pet i’ll have you know”.

You swore he was trying to stare right through you with how intense his gaze was. Sighing again he used his foot to slightly sway is leather chair. “listen (y/n) only reason i’m on your ass with the grades is cause Principal Smith is one mine about them.” Scoffing slightly you look off to the side for a moment before looking back at him. “why does he of all people care about my grades out of everyone in this place.” Not wating a second after you finished your sentence he butted in: “cause you used to be a top student only a month ago, now all of a sudden they’re coming out your ass. Care to let me know why?” “Dunno, a girl has priorities and frankly my grades aren’t one of them.” You huffed and crossed your arms back over your chest and pushing up your tits slightly. It was quick, but you seen his eyes flick down to your chest and back up.

“listen (y/n) i wanna go home just as much as you do and i’m not in the mood, so how ‘bout you just try harder when the next test comes around and i’ll try my best to give you the highest I can ‘kay?”. He truly did all seem concerned and all the times you’d fall asleep in his class, cheat on his tests or just not turn in assignments started coming to you along with the guilt of it all. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna stop your little cat and mouse game. “i’m gonna need a bit more convincing than that sir, it’s easier said than done y’know.” Raising an eyebrow at your comment his adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he fixes his suddenly tight collar. “what do you mean convincing?, what do you have in mind?.” He questions, moving the chair to face it in your direction. Spreading his legs, leaning back and bringing one hand to run it through his black hair.

“oh professor! That sounds so, so scandalous! Didn’t think you were the type.” You seen slight snarl on his face before he turned to look at the bookshelf to his left. “tch, shut it brat, you hinted at it. And don’t think i don’t see the way you stare all class long.” He smirks at the end of his sentence, watching your eyes widened before you send him back your own quirk up of your lips. “oooh? You finally noticed huh? Gahhh it took you long enough.” Waving a hand around and turning your face to the side. “Get over here now.” “Hmm? What was tha-” “I said, get the fuck over now.”

The way his voice went down on octave and his stern gaze had you getting up and walking over to him like an obedient dog to its owner. Now standing between his spread legs your hands went to run across his shoulders and chest without you even thinking. They got lower and lower until they tugged at his belt. He took your two wrists into one and pulled you into his frame. “get down.” The short, but demanding command brought a quiet whimper from your mouth and had him chuckling in your face. Lowering down to sit on your knees , resting your hands on his strong thighs. You looked up to see him looking straight back, he always looked intimidating-but from this angle, it felt like he was burning holes through you. “hurry it up ‘teacher’s pet’” his deep voice, with a mocking sultry tone at the end, went straight to in between your legs, making you turn to hide your face. He bucked his knee up slightly to get your attention and silently tell you to actually hurry.

Rubbing up and down his thighs a few times, feeling the muscles twitch under your touch. The sight of his strained bulge in his slacks had you reaching for his belt, pulling it out through the loops and down onto the ground by your sore knees. His zipper and button came undone with ease along with you pulling down his trousers to his mid thigh, just enough to pull his cock from its tight confinement. He hissed slightly at the brisk air and your soft hand wrapped around him so suddenly. Humming at his reaction you didn’t waste another second and let a drop of spit fall onto the tip, waiting for it to meet your fist before setting his cock with the salvia. You saw his grip on the arm of the chair get tighter, so putting him out of his misery, you took him into your mouth and pushed your head down as far as you could before your gag reflex stopped you. “jesus (y/n), fuck do it again.” His scary n’ intimidating resolve crumbling right in front of you just made you want to see the other side of your professor even more. doing as he told you, you pulled back for a short second before bringing his cock back in and down your throat, holding it for as long as you could. The groan he let out sounded like an angel was above you, making your eyes roll back, throat tightening around him. Anyone would notice how hard he’s holding back from nestling his hands in your hair and fucking up into your mouth, and you did.Wanting to feel him grip your hair, you took his hands from the arms of the chair and placed them on the back of your head. He didn’t wait for you to get used to the feeling of them in your hair before he planted his feet down and used your throat as his own personal fleshlight. “that’s it bitch, suck my fucking cock, choke on it, there you go.” he took one hand from the back of your head and pinched your nose, cutting of your breathing and stilling his cock in the back of your throat, not listening to the hits you were giving his thighs.

All that could be heard in the spacious room was the wet gagging of your throat and his strangled grunts. Waiting and waiting for him to warn you he was about to cum- but it never came, all that did was your head roughly getting ripped from his cock. Once you could breathe probably you started coughing from the lack of air going into your lungs. “a-are you. You okay?” he asked with a bit of concern in his voice that made your chest swell. Giving him a small nod he hummed and lifted you to straddle him. “go ahead and strip for me” growing more impatient for the need for him inside you, you got straight to ridding your body of it’s clothes. Just being left in your panties, Levi looked down to see the soft pink lace with a small bow on the front grinding over his aching hard on. “please sir, can you fuck me now.” That name, that name is what did it for him. He brought his larger hands to the flesh of your ass and ripped the panties from the back and threw them to the floor.

The man didn’t even give you time to react before he lifted you slightly and pushed himself inside your tight heat. You weren’t going to lie- he was definitely bigger than you thought, especially for a man of his height. His bruising grip on your waist and the feel of sinking down on his cock had you whimpering and reaching for his broad shoulders. “s-sir more need more.” His strong chest shook with the deep chuckle he responded with. “a bit greedy don’t we think?” “don’t care, want you sir plea-ah!” he cut off your begging with a harsh slap to your ass and thrusted his hips up to meet yours. It all came at once and you feel into his chest panting. “c’mon brat, do the rest yourself since you want it so badly.” His demanding and teasing tone returned as he leaned back to watch you.

Lifting your knees up as much as you could till just the tip remained in you, and then you slammed back down onto his thighs. The action ripped moans from both of you in sync and had you repeating the cycle for another while. Levi thinks to himself for a short second, ‘what is he doing, why is he doing this?’ but you loud moan shook him from the thoughts and threw them out the window. The mix of the leather rubbing against your knees and the sweat on your skin started to make it harder for you to bounce desperately on his cock.

As if he could sense what your thinking, he reached around and under to rest his hands on the underside of your ass and stood up, holding you in his strong arms. He made it look effortless, how he could hold you up and walk to the wall behind his desk. “S-sir fuck wait”. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to feel more of you, feel you cum around him and feel you squirm when he fills you up. “you didn’t wanna wait earlier did you? Didn’t wait a second when you had the- fuuck- chance did you? Just a fucking whore for me that’s all you are. A hole for me to use” His words were laced with venom, spat right into your ear by his mouth along with the stinging slap to your ass. Desperate to feel more of him, you dig your fingers into his shoulders, the skin hidden my his baby blue dress shirt as he lifted you up and back down with the brute strength of his arms.

Levi couldn’t hold it back much longer he needed to see you a shaking dumb little mess for him. He hoisted you so he could turn around and place you on the edge of the desk. You wanted to finally get a good look at the man that was giving you the pleasure you waited so long for, leant back on your forearms you could finally see Levi Ackerman in all his glory. The light from the two windows behind him shone in rays through the blinds and bouched off the exposed skin of his chest where he unbuttoned his shirt, the light flush to his cheeks and the jet black hair sticking to his forehead. It all made him look angelic before you, and you just couldn’t peel your eyes off him. He noticed the slight trance you were in and gave a particularly hard thrust that kissed at your cervix. It straight away snapped you out of the gaze and threw your head back with a loud moan. “fuck sir please don’t sto- hah! Wanna cum on y’ cock please please” moans spilled from you in tangent with his hips meeting your own. “such dirty fuckin’ words for a teachers pet hm? Should teach you some manners next time. But go ahead you wanna, hnngh, cum that badly do it for me darlin’”. There was too much for your fucked out brain to dissolve in the one sentence. Next time? Did he want to do this again? Did he mean to call you that name?. you didn’t care- you didn’t in the moment, all that matters was making him get you to the edge then watch him crumble himself. “yes sir m’gonna cum for you h-hard fuck fuck ahh m’ cummin oh my go- Levi!”

You didn’t mean to call him that, you really didn’t, it just slipped out in the midst of your orgasm ripping through you in waves. But he definitely didn’t miss it, his rhythm faltered for a short second but he seen you were still riding your high so he brushed it aside to keep you seeing stars, and trying to get there himself. “shit (y/n) that’s it, fuck you look- feel so good think i’m close” he grunted, watching you fall apart under him. He needed to feel deeper inside you. Grabbing your ankles from his waist, he brought them to his shoulders and kept up his erratic pace.

You had only come down and he still hadn’t let up. It was starting to tether on the edge of pain and pleasure and you didn’t know how long you could keep going. “No, no Le-sir please I cant can’t anymore fuck!” the moan he let slip out had him turning to hide his face in your calf. “shhh just- jesus christ, a bit longer ‘kay m’ nearly there baby you gonna take it all when I fill you up like the cumdump you are.” He struggled to get the sentence out, biting back more moans. You whimpered at the way the pet name fell from his lips like velvet.

“Sir I think i’m go-”, “‘s not my name princess” you peeked your head from his previous place behind your arm to see his stern stare had returned. “L-Levi..” you said quietly in case you were wrong. “fuck, there we go, now say it again”. His voice had gone deeper and the crease of his eyebrow told you that he was about to follow in your footsteps and reach his high. “Levi I think im, think i’m gonna cum again, please don’t stop it’s so good!” he hoped you were right there behind him cause he was himself. “fuck fuck (y/n) cum with me now, fucking cum you greedy little slut.” Flipping you over, he brought a hand to your hair and pulled you up to level with his face, making your back arch in a painful way. “I mean it bitch, be a good girl n’ cum nice n’ hard for your professor while he fills you with his cum.” He pushed your head back down onto the desk with force and brought his free hand to clap on your ass one, two and three times before gripping the tender flesh in his hand, using it as leverage to pound into your clenching cunt. Too much, it was all too much and for the second time you came, gushing around his cock. But this time it came gushing out of you and splashed onto his exposed stomach.”holy shit that’s it you fuckin slut!”. He brought three of his fingers down to dance across your clit and help you ride it out as his hips jerked against yours, his balls tightening and emptying the white spurts to paint your walls.

When you both were well spent he slowly pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your twitching pussy. He softly laughed when he used two fingers to push it back in you, seeing you wince as he did. Your whole body was sore and, frankly you don’t think you could move any part of it. Voicing your distress to him, it was like he snapped out of the mean, demanding character and flipped a switch to a caring side you’ve never seen. “here ill help” he brought his arm to under your knees and behind your back to lift and sit you on his chair behind him. “I have some tissue and wipes here for you if you need them, do you.. do you want me to help you get cleaned up?” not having the energy to answer him, you just nodded your head and let him crouch down and wipe away the mixed fluids from your body as gently as he could.

“listen (y/n), do-” “i’m not gonna tell anyone don’t worry, besides why would i? wouldn’t benefit me if did anyway.why? you ashamed we did this?” he looked up at you with wide eyes and took your hand in his. “no, no of course not. I just, just don’t want it getting around. could lose my job y’ know.” He whispered the last part quietly. “yeah I know, but i’m not ashamed or anything either, just so you know.” For the first time, in what you think is probably forever, he smiles softly and looks down at you playing with his fingers. “that’s good to know, and when i said next time, it wasn’t just in the moment, just so you know.” You both laughed at him mocking your words. “your not as scary as you seem Mr. Ackerman” looking and laughing up once again he hid his wide smile behind his hand. “is that so? Well thank you Ms. (L/n).”

you were going to laugh back a retort but just watching his soft, plump lips dance as he spoke and still in a smirk had you moving before you could think and slotted your lips onto his. Shocked, he didn’t react at you falling onto the floor beside him, but after a second he registered what was going on and moved one hand to the back of your head, the other to your bare waist and moved his lips against yours. Pulling away for a breath of air, he looked into the irises of your eyes and spoke up: “you don’t have to say yes of course, but if you’d like, i’d love to bring you to dinner sometime. not just as a professor and student shit, just as two people wanting to get to know each other”. Now it was your turn to freeze up and not know how to react. Going through the current scenario in your head, weighing between the options, you wondered what to say to the awaiting man before you. “I u-um.. i’d love to si- Levi” the way his name slipped from your tongue like honey made him flush and sheepishly look away for a short while. “well then I guess I could find some free time for you.” “yes, i’ll have to find time in my oh so busy schedule aswell Sir”. Both of you fell into a comfortable fit of laughter again in each other’s embrace.

The scene looked rather comical really. You-bare naked- and your-half bare- college professor laughing on the floor of his office, while talking about planning dates. Who would’ve thought failing grades would get you here?.

-End <3 part two? 😳

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Sunrises, Waffles, and Weddings ii

Pt.1, Pt. 3

One Shot Mini Series Au (No Powers) 

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2651 (Not My GIF)

A/N: Hey Guys! Thank you for reading and liking this story. This part Is a little more background. There will be two more parts in this mini series, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Tag list: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

It's at times like this that you wish you couldn't read people so well… Although it wouldn't take a genius to know that Pietro wasn't happy. No, you'd just have to be insensitive, and you were anything but. "Alright why are you looking at me like that?" You ask calmly and he shakes his head. "No… no this is just all of a sudden." He tries to dismiss it. Now it's your turn to give him a look. "We've been honest with each other thus far… let's not change that now." You state firmly.  "I don't… like change I-i don't do well with it." You nod. He looks at you and smiles sadly. Slowly he finishes his beer and sighs heavily falling back on the couch next to you. "Everything is changing now… Paul and Sarah are married, and now you're leaving."  You nod, getting exactly where he was coming from and sigh. Tonight felt like one of those nights… long and sleepless. You take the beers and make your way to the back porch. "Change is scary." You admit turning slightly to see him. "I lost my parents too…" you mention quietly. Pietro looks at you surprised, noticing the pained expression in his eyes. "It's not what you went through, but still… My parents were great, loving, and so kind." A small smile grows on your face.

 "They walked out the door one day… and they never got to come back." The tears welling in your eyes. "I hated them for the longest time… I didn't understand that 'they're gone' meant they were dead." His eyes refused to meet yours. "I felt so guilty when I realized… but I was still so angry, so mad at them for having left that day." You sighed. "Are you still angry?" He asks, looking at you, tears threatening his eyes. "No, I'm sad… I'm sad that they missed all of it … Sarah's wedding, everything I guess." You look at him and ask him the same question. "I miss them all the time… and it makes me mad… guilty that I'm forgetting them." He answers. You sighed, taking a deep breath. "Are you mad at me?" You questioned. He shakes his head. "No… I-i I'm proud of you." He states. After that you both reached an understanding. Unspoken nonetheless you'd reached an understanding. Sitting in quiet contemplation you watched and enjoyed what would be the last time you did this. Reaching out for your hand he nods and gives it a good squeeze before letting go. 

Quiet chuckling knocked you out of your trance. Looking at Pietro he gives you a playful smirk. "You made quite the impression on my sister." He chuckles. "She will not stop talking about you. I think she likes you." He mentions. Your cheeks burn at the insinuation making him chuckle even louder. He gets quiet again lost in thought. "What if this week… we spend it like the old times? We can go to the lake, stay up all night and tell scary stories. The whole shabang!" You suggest watching his eyes light up. "For old times sake." You add making him laugh and nod. “That sounds amazing, you know what else would cheer me up?” You shake your head, telling him to continue. “If you would be kind enough to hook me up with that cute cousin of yours… What's her name? Martha? Mary? M…” You burst out laughing knowing exactly who he’s talking about. “Cousin May is a complete stick in the mud… She’s a stick with a stick up her ass!” You laugh at your own joke. He chuckles. “Not with me…” He states smugly, which completely shuts you up leaving you speechless. 

“As much as I love you Pietro you are not getting her number.” You say quickly. “You are better off without her, trust me.” He laughs nodding his head. “Fine then we’ll do your thing, a whole week of drinking and laying around sounds good.” He sits up quickly. "On one condition… Wanda gets to come." He states. "Of course she can come! " You say. "But only if she wants to come… you got to stop forcing her to do things." You state seriously. "oNLy iF sHe wAntS tO coMe" He mocks you. "Of course she'll want to come." You laugh, raising your hands in surrender. “Speaking of where's your lovely sister?” You ask curiously. He shrugs. “You know what would cheer me up?” You ask smugly. You burst out laughing watching as Pietro spits his beer out, coughing and trying to breathe. As soon as he calms down you pat his back, and look at him. “So what are the digits?” He shakes his head. “Right… I’ll just ask her myself then… I made ‘quite the impression’ Didn’t I?” You tease using his own words against him. 

The rest of the night was exactly as you had predicted. You drank yourselves silly, soon you found your way inside and crashed on the couch. “You’re sisterrr is um- she’s ah really perty.” You slur out looking directly into Pietro's eyes. He’s quiet for a long while, before he belches startling you. You stare at Pietro in astonishment looking at him like he was a god. “That’s- that’s gotta be a world record.” He states. You nod and lay back down. Staring at the ceiling in the room you hear Pietro begin to shuffle. “I think that I’m Wanda’s ‘Shawn’ and I-i just don't know” He says as he rubs his temples. “What do you mean?” He sighs deeply. “I feel like I’m cutting her wings. She’s always wanted to leave this place.” You nod. “I-i She just wants to make sure you’re okay.” You state confidently. He scoffs. “No offence Y/n but how could you know that?” You shake your head in denial. 

“I know more than you’d think… I stayed here for so long because I wanted to take care of Sarah.” You reveal making him look at you curiously. “I-i uhg. I don't need her to take care of me…” You hum. “Then tell her… It’s not going to hurt her feelings, and you’ll feel better about ‘setting her free’. I feel like she’d appreciate it.” You answer simply deep in thought. You didn't even notice when Pietro took off with his phone in hand making a beeline for the back porch. “I did it! I AM THE MAN!” He yells through the house triumphantly. You only nod your eyes heavy with sleep drifting off. You dream of everything, being together with your parents and Sarah. It was truly saddening you were happy as could be until you looked up and their faces were blank and devoid of any facial features. “Y/n?” You hear a soft voice calling your name. You jump up in a cold sweat, tears already forming in your eyes. You feel hands cup your cheeks forcing your eyes to look at them. 

You’re slightly surprised to see her intense green eyes looking back at you. Disregarding anything else you wrap your arms around her back and cry. She stiffens slightly in your hold but eventually hugs you back and rubs her hand on your back. “What did you dream about?” She asks carefully when you calm down. “I can’t, I can’t… I can’t remember them.” You pull away abruptly trying to calm your breathing. “You can’t remember who?” She asks. That's when Pietro walks in. “Y/n… What's happening?” You rub your face with your hands meeting his worried gaze. “I can’t remember them Piet…” Realization flashes his face. “Do-do you want to talk about it?” He questions softly. “No, no I just got really scared for a while back there.” Your breathing steadies and you begin to take in your surroundings. Your eyes suddenly land on her and you make a double take. “Oh God, I’m so sorry you had to see that.” You say apologizing for the scene. She chuckles slightly at our embarrassment. “It’s fine. I promise I wont think any less of you.” She teases. Gratefully you take the change in subject and stand. “What are you doing here anyways.” You ask. 

“Pietro Invited me late last night and said, and I quote ‘you should totally stop by, I set you free’ weird right?” She reflects. “No, not really It’s Pietro.” You state calmly. She nods. “But, we did want to invite you to hang out this week before I leave.” You say. She almost chokes on her own breath as her brain processes your words. “Wait… You’re leaving?” She questions softly. You nod a little concerned by the lack of reaction. “Uhm, Yes I’m leaving. You know I don’t have Shawn dragging me down anymore… And Sarah well she’s all taken care of now. There's nothing really left for me here.” You say honestly gauging her reactions. She seems hesitant, when her eyes meet yours a smile forms on her face. This made you really look at her… your eyebrows furrow trying to place it, the difference. This was not the smile that you saw all those weeks ago, this one seemed forced, dare you say fake. “That’s great, amazing really… You finally get to leave this place behind.” You grimace at her words and their harsh double meaning. The flash of hurt that passes in your features makes her stop in her tracks. She goes to say something, but you change the subject before she could. 

“So, are you spending the week with us… It’s going to be fun.” You ask, completely avoiding her gaze as you stand from the couch. Suddenly feeling the effects of your poor decisions last night, you rush towards the restroom and basically bury your face into the toilet. You hear shuffling and then your hair is out of your face. As you were about to say something another wave of nausea hit. As soon as you're done she pats your back. “Thank you.” You say sincerely. Changing the subject you notice her hand in yours. A small smile passes through your features, when you notice you give it a squeeze before letting go. You could have sworn she was blushing, but before you could make sure she was out of the room. Deciding to give her some space you get ready for the day, and most likely the week. After you’re ready you go down stairs, and find the siblings on the couch watching something on the Tv. “So… what are we watching?” You ask into Pietro's ear. You and Wanda share a laugh watching as Pietro screamed and jumped in his seat. “We were watching reruns while we waited on you.” Wanda states simply.

Pietro clearing his throat knocks you both out of the daze you were in. “Alright now that that’s over…” He says referring to the intense eye contact, he continues. “You two ready to go to the lake?” He asks with a smile forming on his face. You nod and smile when Pietro extends his hand towards you.  

Flash Back

“Hey, Y/n Is it okay if Paul brings his friend over?” You hear Sarah ask as she nears your door, leaning on the frame as she waits for your answer. “Yeah of course, but why are you asking me? This is your house as much as it is mine.” You state confused. She chuckles and shakes her head. Leaning closer to you she whispers in your ear. “Paul seems to think you two will hit it off.” She smiles as she pulls back a smug smile on her face as she watches your reaction. Blushing and stumbling over your words you manage to compose yourself before making a complete fool out of yourself. “Need I remind you that I am still dating Shawn?” You ask rhetorically, to which your sister immediately rolls her eyes at his mention. “Well, I don’t like him and neither does Paul. His friend's name is Pietro, I expect you to play nice.” Your sister warns before she wanders off into another part of the house. 

Hours later you heard the door open and the sound of laughter grew louder. Sighing internally you made your way towards the dining room where they were all apparently waiting for you. “Hi, I’m Pietro. It's really nice to finally meet you and put a face to the name.” You smile politely and take his hand. “Y/n, Likewise although I have only just heard of you?” You state glaring lightly at both Paul and Sarah. He chuckles nodding, but nonetheless he still pulls out your seat for you. Not long into that dinner Paul gets a ‘call’ informing him of an “emergency” that both he and Sarah had to tend to. After sitting in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like hours you both look up at the same time. Looking at each other for a moment you both break out laughing. “This is extremely pathetic even for Sarah.” You state chugging the rest of the wine in your glass. And to your surprise he nod s and agrees with you. So to pass the time you actually got to know each other, and by the end of it you were practically best friends.

Later Paul would grow to regret his decision to try and set you and Pietro up. You matched each other's energy, and you somehow just understood each other and clicked. A week after that disastrous first encounter you had, formulated and perfectly executed your special hand shake. “If I'd have known you’d steal my best friend I never would’ve introduced you two.” Paul states bitterly as he watches you greet Pietro. At that moment you saw the glint in Pietro's eyes and with the ghost of a nod you both proceeded to walk past him like he didn't exist. The foundation of your friendship with Pietro was your unrelenting desire to make Paul tick. Eventually you both ‘grew out’ of that phase, but still you remained best of friends

End Flashback 

Cutting back to present time here you were making a complete fool out of yourself in front of Wanda. You felt so accomplished the first time you and Pietro completed the hand shake, which at this point was not a handshake but a whole two minute choreography. You both had that ‘too much’ gene and you just kept adding to it throughout the years. You felt so badass, as you pulled off each of the steps, but are suddenly brought back to reality when you see Wanda laughing. You both stop and glare at the girl, still laughing. “You look like fools… Oh god and that little thing with the feet, and who thought it was a good Idea to sing that song?” You and Pietro both look at each other, it was a drunken addition of Singing We will rock you. “Don’t mind her Y/n, she lacks any class, and taste.” and easy as that the tables turned. You looked at Pietro and laughed. After that Pietro excused himself and made sure everything was ready for the trip. Before he actually left the house he yelled. “You only hate us cuz you aint us… Keep your jealousy in check.” You chuckle, shaking your head. But promptly stop when you realize Wand wasn't laughing with you.

In that moment realization hit you like a truck and you almost couldn't believe it. “Oh my god, you ARE jealous!” You stated as an amused grin found its way to your face. “Oh, shut up!” She didn't contradict you, but you could tell she was getting a little uncomfortable so you turned it down. “We can make a handshake if you want?” You state looking at her. She smiles and finally that beautiful, real, and truly breathtaking smile shone through. You could’ve died right then and there and you’d die happy. “I’d really like that…”

[levihantrash]

Shitty Comics and Their Shitty Artists

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1:

“The sweets are really good here, huh?” A kind, bespectacled face appeared beside him, peering at the bulging of his shirt.

Levi had stolen from the pantry plenty of times. He had never gotten caught, so his gradual boldness could have been the problem. He had seen Mikasa, his younger sister, whenever she passed by the snacks section in the grocery store. Her gaping mouth at the sight of the colourful assortment of sweets was enough to let him know.

“I just like looking!” Mikasa said hastily. He hadn’t said anything either.

To be caught now, when he had overheard a staff member mentioning that most of the professors would be taking their leave during the summer break, was just his bad, bad luck. Objectively, he was risking his month-old job, but stealing from the pantry was much less risky than stealing from the grocery store. He began doing it weekly. Every Monday, right before the professors came streaming in, he would take a quick survey of his surroundings, and snatch two chocolate bars, sometimes a banana—only a handful. He would glance at the security camera hanging in the corner, willing it to catch him. Nobody would be petty enough to arrest a cleaner for swiping staff snacks in the pantry, right?

Levi stared back at the unfamiliar person. He recognised most of the staff by now. Only the English Literature professor, Erwin Smith, would greet him in the mornings.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Hange Zoë, the new creative writing professor. Nice to meet you!” They extended out a hand, which he felt obliged to shake, albeit warily. The hand was sweaty, and the handshake, vigorous.

“I was setting up my table and I wanted to meet everyone. Turns out most of them are on vacation,” Hange said absent-mindedly, scratching their head. The two buttons of their shirt had been mixed up, scrunching up the dress shirt's already lopsided collar. Levi resisted the urge to rebutton it for them. Today was not the day to scare off what seemed to be a genuinely welcoming person. Hange, on the other hand, found the firm handshake hilarious. What made this person so uptight?

Hange, realising that he wasn’t saying anything, breezily went, “what’s your name?”

“Levi,” he said, pushing his hands back into his pockets.

“You don’t prefer Dr. Levi?” Hange asked curiously.

“I’m not a professor. Just the cleaner,” Levi said shortly.

“Oh? Is that why you’re so secretive about the snacks?” Hange teased him, much to his chagrin.

“You rich profs have enough to eat,” Levi spat out.

Hange didn’t even blink, nodding calmly, “you’re right, it’s certainly good to make full use of the school’s resources.” Levi, sensitive to any hint of condescension, found none, though not regretting his overdose of sarcasm.

“Also,” Hange added, “I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise! So could you not look like you want to kill me and leave my dead body in the cleaning closet?”

Levi scoffed, relaxing the fists that had formed naturally by his side.

“Do you like bread?” Hange asked suddenly, scanning him for signs of the affirmative. He shrugged.

“I passed by a bakery this morning and it had the most delicious smell,” they sighed, “I was running late so I couldn’t get anything.”

“It seems like you’re kind of a mess.”

Hange laughed—this person could literally laugh at everything, Levi thought. They lifted their shoulders with their arms in the air, in a manner of “I was born like this, what do you want me to do?”

As the conversation subsided, Hange saw Levi’s eyes dart towards the neglected mop and bucket, finding it oddly endearing.

“Well then! I won’t disturb you any longer!” Hange announced. Levi wanted to tell them that they weren’t disturbing him at all, before stopping himself. His initial plan was to escape from useless small talk. Uttering such absurdity would be counterintuitive.

“Since you’re here,” Hange grabbed the last few packets of chips in the basket and stuffed them into his gigantic apron pockets, “you might as well take the rest!”

“Are you pitying me?”

“Those snacks aren’t for you,” Hange merely said cheerfully, before tentatively asking, “or am I wrong?”

“Don’t expect any favours,” Levi said begrudgingly.

He looked awkwardly at the distracted professor, who had chosen to open a chocolate bar themselves.

“Thanks…” he said, and Hange only grins, bits of chocolate and almond stuck to their teeth.

----------

Routine, that’s how it all began. Levi and Hange were seeing each other every day. In each encounter, Hange would tug out a new bread or pastry from the depths of a green, bottomless leather bag that they carried around everywhere.

Initially, Levi felt offended. “You think I can’t afford bread?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Hange’s eyes widened, “of course not! I want to share the joy of this bread, if you remember that bakery I was craving for,” they poked at the loaf, leaving a small dent in the middle.

With their hand still extended out, Hange scoured for words, “and you look like someone who doesn’t often indulge in little joys.”

“I didn’t ask you to psychoanalyze me.” Levi grabbed the bread, tore it into two, and pushed one entire piece into his mouth. A muffled word of thanks came out. The other half was planted back onto Hange’s palm.

“You said you wanted to share, didn’t you?”

Hange glowed in acknowledgement. They stuffed the warm bread into their mouth, cheeks full, incoherently raving about its texture. The sight of Levi chewing the bread contentedly after unexpectedly cramming it into his mouth; Hange wanted to preserve it, to immortalise this tentative pleasure. If fresh bread was what it took to achieve that, it was perfectly doable.

Levi saw it as what it was. An offering. There was really no reason to reject free bread, and if this were Hange’s version of bribery, it was innocent enough.

“Why don’t I get bread?” Erwin asked Hange, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Levi’s nose wrinkled at the overly strong aroma.

“Sorry Erwin!” Hange patted him on the back, not sounding apologetic at all, “I only have money for one friend and since Levi is my first friend here, it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

“Certainly,” Erwin said, sipping on his black coffee, eyeing a certain stony-faced individual’s violent coughing at Hange’s mention of “friend.”

“What?” Levi asked, clearing his throat one more time.

“Good day to you both,” Erwin said, sweeping past Levi to return to his desk.

Following the end of summer break, Hange became relatively friendly with their colleagues in the staffroom, who had never greeted Levi. Unbothered by the lack of formalities, Levi found himself getting along best with living things that discarded general rules of propriety. Like children, animals… and Hange. Still, when Levi trailed back to the staffroom, wet mop in hand, he found himself at a hearing distance behind Hange’s conversation with a group of colleagues.

Hange got to the point, smiling sweetly. “Why do you all pretend Levi doesn’t exist?”

There were awkward, feeble words of justification. Something about Levi being too scary. Something about Levi not greeting them first. Hange listened, eyebrows furrowing.

“You could at least say hi, right? He doesn’t bite,” Hange said coolly. Their colleagues felt the faintest chill up their spine. Levi sloshed the mop onto the floor, making his presence known. Hange barely flinched, as though expectant of his company.

“Are you talking about me behind my back?”

Hange slung an arm around Levi’s shoulders and whispered, “no, I’m telling everyone right now that you don’t get enough sleep and that’s why you’re glaring at everyone.”

Levi elbowed them away. “Who cares what people think?”

Unwrapping the bread Hange gave him, he took one significant, large bite while everyone squirmed in silence. Hange, strangely amused by the scene playing out before them, ushered Levi towards Erwin’s cubicle.

“Levi! What are your plans for today?”

“Cleaning.”

Hange clapped their hands together, “I invite you to have lunch with me and Erwin!”

“Why should I go?” Levi said, not unkindly.

“Why not?” Levi couldn’t give a good reason. Hange, latching on to Levi’s lack of refusal, took the mop away from his hands.

“You can finish cleaning later. Everyone has to eat, right?”

“Not you, apparently,” Levi muttered, remembering how Hange had straight-up not left their desk for a whole ten hours—the sun shining on their sleep deprivation at dawn until the desktop screen illuminated their exhaustion at dusk.

“That was one deadline, Levi.”

“Sure.” Regardless, he wasn’t about to decline Hange. Somehow, Hange had grown attached to Erwin, and had endless discussions with him. Conversations about writing, mostly. He didn’t participate much outside of jabbing at Hange’s ribs when the volume of their voice went over the publicly acceptable range. Otherwise, he would be shooting glares at Erwin whenever he tried to probe into Levi’s personal life. Erwin had an intensity that was difficult, near impossible to ignore.

Incidentally, the topic of comics cropped up.

“Comics?”

Hange picked up on the rare tonal shift of Levi’s voice, studying him. Erwin’s fork elegantly pierced a French fry, the screech of the fork’s contact with the plate prompting Levi to speak over it. He was positive that Erwin was trying to get him to talk. On purpose.

“Yes, I like them,” Levi conceded, draining the tea from his cup.

“I learn something new about you every day!” Hange exclaimed, as Levi gripped the edge of the cup harder.

Seemingly catching on to Levi’s discomfort, Erwin asked Hange for recommendations, telling them how he had never read any comics.

“How predictable of a literature professor,” Hange said, sitting up straighter to mock the poise of a scholar, glasses perched at the tip of their nose for the intended effect.

“You look like a fart with a stick up their ass,” Levi commented, leaving Hange howling. Erwin, the consistent gentleman, remained at ease with these disparaging jokes.

While Hange listed out their favourite comics, Levi noted that none of their top choices was marginally close to any of his preferences: in genre, in plot, and in art style.

“I like horror.”

“I don’t,” Levi countered. Hange grinned wider.

“Well, you’re scary enough as you are,” Hange considered, taking in his aloof disposition and the way he sat stiffly on the chair. Nonchalant, and could possibly decimate you.

“Look,” Hange said, thrusting an open book into Levi’s hands. “This comic is so good. It keeps me up at night.”

Levi leafed through the pages, absorbed by the clean black and white lines. That was, until he flipped a page and winced at the image of empty eye sockets, gouged out, spurting inked blood.

“You don’t like blood,” Hange said this matter-of-factly, promptly closing the book.

“I don’t like unnecessary death.”

“How do you know those deaths were unnecessary?” Erwin asked, pushing back his blonde hair in an effortlessly charismatic manner.

Levi could picture it. Erwin, a fearless leader, bringing people to greater heights.

Hange had less noble thoughts. Erwin was definitely the protagonist in a teen movie who looked older than high school age and was starring as a blonde jock whose embarrassingly lacklustre coming-of-age arc was spurred by a shy, beautiful nerd. For good reason, Hange kept their mouth shut.

“I don’t,” Levi answered, “but is any death really necessary?”

Erwin smiled, “perhaps not.” The seed of doubt grew in Levi.

Hange leaned forward across the table towards Levi, a hand covering one side of their smirking face.

“Erwin’s a lot more calculative than you think.”

Levi swatted away Hange’s strands of hair tickling his cheek, “I know,” he said half-heartedly, not wishing to contemplate the extent of its truthfulness.

Carving the last piece of meat on his plate into two, Erwin shrugged.

“So, you would say that some deaths are necessary?” Levi asked. The question blurted out on its own, slicing through the amicable atmosphere like a stray bullet. For some reason, he wanted a proper answer. Hange was busy flipping through the same horror comic book, their eyes trained on the page.

“Do you like bugs, Levi?” Erwin asked.

Levi visibly scowled. “No.”

Erwin’s fork scraped the plate insistently.  “Do you kill them?”

“Obviously.”

Erwin’s collectedness seemed impenetrable. “Would you say their deaths are necessary?”

“Necessary enough as a cleaner.”

“There, you have your answer,” Erwin said, with finality.

“I’m talking about human lives, not some insects,” Levi said, frustrated.

“Some lives matter more than others, am I right?”

“Yeah…” Levi said, struggling to grasp Erwin’s logic.

“It’s the same for us,” Erwin said cryptically.

Hange stood up, snapping the book shut. “Shit, I have to teach a class in ten!” Levi naturally stood up as well. Erwin gave a friendly wave, undeterred by the abruptness of their departure.

“See you, Erwin!” Hange called out, rushing back to the staffroom.

“Why does Erwin have to be so ambiguous?” Levi griped.

“You’re not very telling, yourself,” Hange said blithely, grabbing their laptop before marching out of the door.

Armed with constant smiles and warm words, Levi would classify Hange as someone just as enigmatic. Their discussions about writing were arguably personal, but they weren’t exactly close to the heart.

The two people Levi was becoming acquainted with in the past few weeks were a slate full of words in a language he understood, but couldn’t decipher. For the rest of the day, he compromised on these doubts by making sure the windows had not a speck of dust on them. Every moving insect was stamped out under his supervision. He thought about Erwin’s words, turning them over and over in his head. He thought about Hange’s nonchalance towards Erwin’s questions.

----------

After locking up his cleaning supplies, Levi peeled the sweaty gloves off his arms, untying the bandana on his head that kept his long fringe away, and removed his apron. Hearing a friendly shout in the otherwise deserted school building, he caught Hange coming to a stop behind him.

“You’re still here,” he said, frowning.

“Had a lot of work,” they said, armed with this reasoning every day.

“Were you listening during lunch?”

“Hmm, kind of,” Hange stated obliquely, “you know how literature people are.”

Levi was bewildered, his passive expression cracking slightly. “I don’t. As you might have realised, I don’t talk to a lot of people.”

“Literature people,” Hange rubbed their chin, eyes looking upwards in deep thought, “enjoy discussing morality in a mostly abstract, hypothetical way.”

“That’s annoying.”

Hange fell in step with Levi, who was headed to the exit, “Erwin’s one of the better ones. He’s pragmatic, and he’s not just all talk.”

“Yeah, so what’s his grand plan…” Levi said, finding the right words, “for humanity?”

“He wants to create a comic.”

Levi blinked.

“Huh? What does that have to do with morality?”

Hange looked unperturbed by Levi’s confusion, as though it were commonplace for them to defend the importance of the comic genre.

“Think of texts as a philosophical question waiting to be answered. And the questions of morality being narrativized makes their conclusions more believable. More influential. Erwin has a vision for comics to be the source of truth.”

“What truth?”

Hange grinned, “if we knew, would we need to write the comic?”

“You talk like it’s more revolutionary than it actually is…” Levi said, pushing open the door to step out of the school building.

“A comic can be life-changing,” Hange mused, admiring how the sunset decorated everything in watercolour splashes of orange and pink; a distinct nostalgic hue.

Levi remembered that Hange was, after all, a creative writing professor. “Yeah, you would say that.”

“It’s not because I’m a creative writing professor!” Hange said, impassioned. He gave them a dry look.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Besides, Erwin wants to be the editor of the comic that I am writing,” Hange said proudly.

Levi felt that his head might explode. “Since when were you writing a comic?”

“Since last week!” Hange said, remarkably animated.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Isn’t that what friends are for? To share things with?” Hange asked, hopeful.

That word—Levi figured that that was what they were by now. Friends. He didn’t hate the sound of it.

“You’re not going to ask what it’s about?”

“You’ll tell me if I just waited.”

“You’re right! But you see,” Hange exhaled, shaking their head despondently, “my problem is that I don’t have someone who can draw out my writing.” Levi’s hands twitched. He interlocked them into a prayer, hoping Hange didn’t notice.

“Why not just write a novel?”

Hange was unconvinced, “I’m tired of just the written word, Levi! The versatility and multimodal form of the comic are incomparable to a novel!”

Levi had to agree. “Have you been trying to find artists?”

“Yes, but none of them seemed very keen on drawing the story,” Hange said, recalling the number of people who became increasingly disconcerted upon hearing the gist of the story.

“So, what’s the story?” Levi asked.

Hange was hesitant. Levi waited.

“It’s horror, isn’t it?”

“The premise includes giant naked human beings running around eating people,” Hange said. Levi grimaced. They expected this, but it didn’t make their disappointment at his very reasonable reaction any less jarring.

“It also has a lot of blood,” Hange said. Sensing that they were one sentence away from diving into a world-building sermon, they paused.

“Do you want to hear more?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Levi said honestly. It had been a long day.

“Of course! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Hange said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.

“I’ll see you,” Levi said belatedly. Hange was already brisk walking towards the crowded street.

Instinctively, he called out, “Four-eyes!”

Turning back, Hange stood where they were, surprised.

“Tell me the story tomorrow.”

A gradual look of appreciation spread across Hange’s face, as their eyes arched downwards into thin curves.

“Thank you, Levi!”

Levi sidestepped Hange’s thanks with a disgruntled “tch. Whatever.”

I finally did it! I posted the first chap of the fic I've been working on for the past month *_* if you read till here... thank you!!! hearing your thoughts/comments would be nice heheh

[dreamii-yume]

Since we know that canonically Rook is indeed a stalker.(and has the pics to prove it) Do you think he would watch his Darling...........*cough* masturbate? *cough*

The way your form looks from afar, writhing on your bed as your fingers busies themselves by playing with your own cunt is simply a marvelous sight to take in! A naughty girl, not even bothering to close the curtains, practically asking him to gawk at you. Rook is not complaining nevertheless, even if the sheets were closed, he’d still find ways to take in your beauty especially at this state. Like he always do. Still, to think that this’ll be the gift that he’ll have the pleasure of receiving from you, this could certainly be the best birthday he’d ever have!

Your face is flushed as a rose, eyes closed with tears dripping over your long eyelashes, and moans you try to hold back as you bit into your hitched up shirt. Aah, how blessed was he to be able to experience such precious moment? His ears could qualify for a great wonder, he can hear your luscious moans and groans, overwhelming with pleasure. It makes his own body feel all hot inside, most notably the squelching sound your little weeping hole makes every time you would bury your fingers deep inside. His pants tightened in anticipation but non, he must resist the torturous urge to touch himself, this fine show that you were giving is a masterpiece, truly something that will be considered a crime for merely blinking his eyes close.

...He can hear those too, you know? The names you’re calling out loud in such a seductive tone, hungry for just about anyone at this point. Rook heard his name once, which almost sent his instincts into overdrive, mistaking such lewd tone into a sweet melody. But alas, though he wishes that it was just his name that you were moaning out for, then came in the next names to replace his, all familiar in memory. Don’t worry, he doesn’t exactly dislike it at all, non, this...lascivious side of yours is also beauty in itself.

Then came in the final act of your performance, Rook’s favorite part as he could hear you getting louder and more agrressive to yourself. Your eyes rolling back with how rough you were being with your own pussy, all impure thoughts that have been running in your head must’ve been let loose. You were determine to abuse even your own just to bring yourself into a satisfying conclusion, that was the part that Rook loves about you the most, the dedication.

He bit his bottom lip in anticipation, his observant eyes eager to see what you will become from his point of view beyond your windows. Rook could feel his own cheeks heating up in pleasure, a chuckle escapes him as he realized that he was actually using his everything to resist the urge to just burst in inside your room, to finish your job long before you could. You were amazing, he thought, you weren’t aware of his presence and yet, you hold the ability to make him feel this way. To make him feel this...excited. It’s simply something that can’t be put into proper words.

Rook’s grip on a tree bark had gotten tighter the moment that he heard you let out a high pitched voice, signalling your inevitable climax. His breath hitched for a second as he saw you widened your hole to give way for your dazzling juices to be put on a display, it was like he was watching a work of art. Your body spasm at the intensity of your orgasm, fingers circling your little sensitive bud to motivate your body to let everything out. It was far too beautiful for Rook to see that he doesn’t feel all too worthy of seeing it, almost to the point of bringing him into tears.

What a performance, a beautiful representation of pureness and impureness merging as one. Rook gulped down his excitement as he finally found the will to move after a long time. With something as maginificent as that, how do you expect him to just walk away? He must pay your credits for a job well done, this new-found admiration and respect for someone shall not go unnoticed. It was beauty that Rook seeks in this world and without it, everything else is meaningless.

That’s why, he can’t just turn a blind eye into all of this. It was beauty that you have provided, therefore, allow him to give you his thanks.

You settled down after a few seconds, chest heaving up and down as you slowly pulled your fingers, slicked with your nectar out of your core. You winced at the remaining sensitivity that left you, mind feeling a little light-headed with what you just done. You felt dirty and satisfied at the same time, but didn’t really bring yourself to care any more than that. You were about to close your eyes, finally exhausted enough to call it a night when suddenly, you felt another pair of hands engulfing your own, it was colder than air.

“Non. I would prefer it if you shouldn’t fall asleep so quickly just yet, mon chére fleur.” You looked down with widened eyes to see the Vice Dorm Leader of Pomefiore himself, Rook Hunt on the edge of your bed, entertwining his fingers to your slick ones. “Your beauty can be compared to the fairest one of all, but you still yet to declare your role as a princess.”

It took you a while to actually react, gasping immediately and was about to scream loud when Rook pulled you so abruptly. He was quick to slam his lips over yours, enough to silence you with shock. The kiss was for Rook himself to indulge in, savoring your taste until the very end as he pulled away to see your adorable reactions. “Pardon...I didn’t mean to startle you like this, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He was lying, to see you this shock and speechless was something Rook had definitely intended. “I was just so captivated by the show you put on for me that I need to personally pay you my respects.”

“Eh...?” You barely croaked out, still trying to process where this man came out. You didn’t even hear any door or window creak open in this battered dorm, let alone the sounds of his footsteps! His presence had been completely erased until he took hold of your hand too, just what was going on here!? However, Rook could only smirk at your bewilderment, bringing your hand close to his lips, the same hands that you used to play yourself with. You quickly heated up in embarrassment and tried to pull yourself away but he kept a gentle yet strong grip, further increasing your panic as he went and lick your fingers one by one. “Eek...! No, d-don’t do that...!”

“Mm, délicieux...You taste as fine as I imagined you to be...!” Rook moaned out, leaning closer as you could only stare at the lovesick expression in his eyes with anxiousness. You flinched as he brought your hand down this time, your breath hitching up as he stopped dangerously close to that concerning bulge on his pants. Your eyes shifts between his face and your hand, not really sure if what he wants is what you think he wants.

“Aah...Can you feel it? My excitement?” You gulped, cold sweat dripping down your forehead rather ominously, but it only encouraged Rook’s smile to widen. He leaned towards your ear, his voice soft yet hypnotizing, irking you to do something that you were sure you’ll never forgive yourself for. “It’s calling out for you, mon chére.”

“This may be what you call ‘audience participation’ of some sort?” Rook chuckled as he began unzip his pants. When he saw how pale you look, that cold sweat was basically glistening against your skin, he pulled out an expression that resembles a puppy. Something that he knew would definitely tug on your heartstrings. “I know it’s a bit sudden and I dread of the thought of making you feel this way, but would you forgive me just this once?

Now, he was using guilt against you. He’s good at acting and is putting out a really convincing act and maybe if you weren’t aware of how he really is, you could’ve believed him. Still, it’s scary to think that it’s somehow working, despite knowing that it’s all an act. “In a few hours, my special day would be over and I have yet to wait another year for the next.” He was right, though it was an act, what he was saying was true. Maybe that was the fact that was working out for you. “Therefore, don’t you think we’d be allowed to sin just this once?”

Then, comes back his smirk, simultaneously startling you as he pulled you quite roughly, disrupting your balance. Coincidentally, or deliberately perhaps, your face landed between his legs. You widened your eyes as he got his cock out, standing tall and inches away from your face which froze you on the spot. Your breath hitched as you realized how unexpectedly huge he was, it wasn’t just in your angle either, you don’t think he was going to fit in any of your holes without hurting like hell.

“...After all...” You squeaked as you felt his hand on your bare ass, snaking it’s way to your cunt, still wet from earlier. “You, yourself was committing such an act too from earlier, weren’t you? So naughty, even moaning out other guys’ name despite not even being your special day.”

You flushed red at what he said, embarrassed that he even documented what you have said and done before. It was adorable in Rook’s eyes, earning you another chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at all. It was still a good show regardless. Though this time, would it be too much if I were to be the only one in your mind tonight?” He guided your hands towards his erection, moaning slightly as you clasped your fingers around him. “Aah~ Trés bien...! Just your soft fingers alone is enough to send pleasure through my system! Boutén!” He moaned as you glanced up at him with confused and slightly disturbed eyes, wondering how easily sensitive he was.

Still, you felt his fingers moved to play with your folds, startling you to move in your spot, grasping his cock tight. Rook chuckled as he looked down at you, feeling as if he just discovered a new function in a toy. You, however, couldn’t help but close your eyes in embarrassment, glancing slightly at your senior, who was eagerly waiting for your next move. His fingers had barely entered your pussy, and somehow, that alone felt better than how you did in your own. You can’t help but be frustrated, he was definitely using your own pleasure to use against his own, a reward system of some sort.

You give out a breathy sigh, finally sucking up your pride and going closer to his dick. His words from earlier carried a point. For now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain him for a while.

...Or whatever that means.

It’s surprisingly really fun to write for Rook since he’s already like...lowkey yandere in the game lol Aah, I just wish we know more things about him! ( ；∀；) He’s really careful to not reveal anything about his past lol

[shlutnutt]

Tag

in honor of kit's birthday, why not a quick little kit smut?

starts off as a little fluff lol

warnings: smut, penetration, fingering, oral sex, just regular smut

song insp: courtship dating and affection both by crystal castles

ight so boom.

"Come on! Slow down flash." Kit yells from the other side of the asylum caf trying his best to catch up to your incredible speed. Kit and you were inseparable, no matter how many times the nuns tried seperating you guys, you'd always find a way to hang out or at least see eachother.

Playing tag was your favorite game to play since it didn't require a board game with boring little pieces or any difficult rules. "Ok! I'll give you a headstart! Only 5 seconds!" you yell back causing a little disruption. Kit speed walks towards you not wanting to run anymore.

You giggle at the sight of Kit completely out of breath infront of you as he tapped on you, causing him to giggle along with you pausing suddenly taking a second to admire the beauty he had infront of him. The eye contact you both held brought nothing but butterflies, rising your need to have his soft plump lips against yours, but you dont dare make a move preventing any sort of punishments coming from Sister Jude.

Kit grabs your hand signaling you to sit down alongside him by the window which seemed nearly empty from the patients hating the sunlight. "Hey, I have a plan.. Its risky but we can have some alone time?" Kit whispers feeling the tension you two imprisoned. Taking his hand into yours you whisper back "What's on your mind baby?". Kit plans "Well, we go back to our prison cells at 9:00 pm. Jude usually leans around till 9:30 pm. We were the only ones who ate today's toasts. Lets say we got immensely sick hey? Get our "medical help" and meet by the girl's bathroom. Whatcha think?"

You were totally down for Kit's quickie plan but were terribly scared of getting caught. Knowing the result will be awful you honestly respond with "I dunno Kit. Its very risky. But I'll do it!"

"Shh"

"Shit sorry. Only if you're staying by my side though."

"Im not leaving you alone Y/N.. We're inseparable my love, dont ever forget that. "

All of the patients were escorted to their cells for their bedtime. As soon as you hear the hourly beep for 9:00 pm you keep track of time for 30 minutes. Focusing on every minute to second that passes by from the top of your head you prepare for your act, knowing that Kit is more then ready. You soon hear familiar deep coughs from the right side of your cell, knowing it was time. As you begin coughing harshly you hear keys jingling down the hallway unlocking a cell. Knowing you were next you continue coughing almost making yourself throw up.

"Y/N! What is going on in there?!" You hear a familiar feminine voice question in concern. "I- I can't breath! My stomach is killing me!" you continue your act, pretty impressed in yourself. The lady opens your cell and your heart automatically skips a beat at the sight of your lover alongside the nun, smirking slightly in between coughs.

Each step you took down the soundless hallway to the nurses was raising your heartbeat by the second not losing the tension Kit's aurora gave you.

When you all arrived at the nurses office and sit down for a few seconds, Nurse decides to break the silence. What the hell is wrong with you two? It's literally bedtime." she questions in annoyance. You silently chuckle hearing the word "hell" come out of a nun's lips. "I don't know, I suddenly wasn't able to breath properly and my stomach started hurting really bad." Kit says in "pain" mimicing your words. "And you?" the nurse asks pointing at you with her black pen decorated with a little cross. "I feel the same way. All I ate was the buttered toast, I dont usually feel like this." You add the fact that you ate the toast to make your lie far more believable. "I ate the toast too. It seemed like nobody wanted them so I gave it a try." Kit adds, completing the perfect lie.

"Second time this week the chefs' failed once again at their job. I apologize on their behalf.. I'll get you some pain relieving pills. Give me a sec." The nun apologizes heading to the big creaky door towards the basement where all medications were in storage.

I look over at Kit nerviously, who's sitting on the patient bed, uncuffed surprisingly. He seemed so excited and just overall ready to destroy your guts. "Aren't we going?" you ask perplexed to the fact he's just sitting there smiling not moving a muscle. "Escape rules 101: Leave five seconds after your kidnapper, or you'll get caught. Boom!" You giggle at his words aware he made it all up, still taking it into advice though. "Five, four, three, two.. one! Run Y/N runnn!" he insists.

Kit grabs your hand soft but steady as he drags you down another hallway towards the girl's bathroom. Warm air kissing the both of your faces as you glide down hallway to hallway with your favorite person in hand, smiling and giggling, pure ecstasy and excitements on your faces, as you arrive at your destination.

"Check if the stalls are empty on your left im checking on my right, babe" you smile at the sudden nickname Kit had put on you and proceeded to follow his commands giving him a quick thumbs up from the other side of the bathroom signaling him that the coast was clear, he does the same.

You choose the stall furthest from the door pulling Kit in with you locking it immediately "So now what?" Kit teases almost as if he were to be taunting you, acknowledging your need through your eyes. "You tell me." you attempt to tease back. "What if I show you?" he whispers, leaning into your neck. "Show me then.." you whisper back suddenly gasping at the sudden touch of Kit's delicate pink lips against your neck. His soft kissing, licking and sucking against your neck making your core wet by the second. Becoming stressed from his soft teasing you grab his jaw gentley, leading his lips to your own.

As you two kiss passionately you feel his tongue silently asking for enterance which you allow, the makeout now becoming intense. You feel his hands suddenly lifting your gown, sliding your underwear to the side, looking you in the eye with question for consent which you also allow. Kit begins rubbing your wetness delicately as he slowly inserts a finger inside making you whimper in pleasure grabbing onto his strong masculine shoulders. With now two fingers in your core, you begin jacking off Kit through his well fitted sweats producing a light angelic moan to fall out of his lips. You decide to quickly undress him teasing his member devilishly.

"Now you'll have to finish what you started gorgeous." Kit whispers reffering to your teasing on his. You drop down to your knees slowly tracing your fingers down his body, stopping right below his belly button making him groan deeply in need. "So needy for me, baby" you tease as you suck his member whole causing him to grip your thick hair for support. The combination of your moans vibrating on his now soaked member and your massaging on his balls, made his release speed up more then ever.

"Im cl- close Y/N.. You're doing such a good job for me" he praises while nutting in your mouth which you swallow quickly, avoiding the slight bitter taste. Kit picks you up with no notice and leans you against the stall you both shared slowly sliding his member past your submerged folds. You moan instantly at the feeling of Kit's cock filling you up completely hitting your g-spot everytime. You're both breathlesss in the moment, your loud moans echoing through the flickering lights of the bathroom, holding onto his shoulders for support your arms wrapped around his muscular sweaty waist.

"F-fuck Kit. Im cu-.." not being able to finish your words due to the amazing sensation you were feeling on your core, you feel instantly empty as Kit pulls out of you to finish your high with his mouth.

Kit tongue fucks you, and licks between your folds to finally sucking on your clit liberating your release in his mouth which he sucks up every drop of. Your body collapses onto his still trying to process the intense moment you both divided.

"I love you, Y/N" Kit lovingly says while lookin down at you with innocent eyes. "I love you too, Ki-"

Getting brutally interrupted you hear screaming "Where the hell are you two!" you both hear the nurse, footsteps running up and down the hallways. You quickly get dressed and kiss Kit your goodbyes as he flies past the huge door into the boys' bathroom which luckily was right next to the girls'.

"I-Im here!" you manage to scream back, sticking two fingers down your throat forcing yourself to throw up. "I just got really sick and needed to throw up, sorry." you apologize looking up at the lady who's eyes were boiling in anger. You were pretty sweaty, hair tousled, and hands were shaky. Made your lie pretty believable. "Where's kit?" nurse asks calmly this time now that she's found you. "Im not too sure I think he ran to the boys' room, he got really red and well ran out, seemed sick also." You manage to convince.

Nurse walks out, disgusted by your view heading into the boys' room in which she's not allowed into. You jump at the scary sounds Kit made from the other side of the wall, relieved you two had mentally communicated the same plans.

Managing to clean yourself up a bit you hear hard knocking on the girls' bathroom door. You timidly open up to the view of nurse and Kit. Relieved you smile to yourself a little, Kit realizes and taps on you playfully.

"You're it, loser."

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ chisaki kai x reader → ❝wounds❞

series: hero!au villains summary: chisaki kai is a healer at your hero agency that you love to annoy. when a big battle breaks out you’re surprised to see that he can do more than just heal people word count: 2.4k tags/warnings: blood mention, injuries, light angst a/n: im finally back! i hope this came out okay i had to finish it on my old laptop. this is my first time writing for overhaul so i hope you enjoy!

Chisaki Kai loved you. Okay, that was a lie if you were being honest. You drove him crazy but it was so much fun you couldn’t stop yourself from it. Chisaki was a healer at your agency and you were very clumsy and reckless so it was safe to say that you visited him quite often.

“Oh Chisaki, I’ve been injured.” You said entering his office. He let out a groan of annoyance as he looked up from his paperwork.

“What did you do this time?” He said opening the door that led to the medical room.

You happily followed him sitting down on the examination table, feet swinging like a kid.

“Well, what happened was I was fighting a villain and he said-” You loved testing his patience, you knew it was wrong but it was so endearing to see the annoyed looks he gave you as you gave him far more details than necessary.

“The injury.” He cut you off, his eyes intense over his medical mask.

“Oh, right.” You said as you pulled up your sleeve to reveal a large gash in your arm. “Knife wound.”

Chisaki inspected it carefully writing down some notes on his clipboard. It was more of a formality than anything. His quirk was able to heal anything with no issue but the agency insisted he keep a record of injuries and for him to not bother healing things too small that would be considered a waste of his quirk.

After a moment he put the clipboard down before placing his hand gently below the cut on your arm. In just a second the skin was mended back together as it had never been torn in the first place.

“Thank you, doc.” You said with a big smile on your face. Sometimes it was hard to gauge his expression under the mask.

“I’m not a doctor. Try not to be back too soon.” He said as he put his glove back on and picked his clipboard up.

“Aw, do you not like seeing me?” You teased as you stood up.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He said plainly as he turned back to his office.

You stood there in silence, shocked by his words. Chisaki was indifferent at best, you hadn’t expected him to say that. Was there a chance he liked you back? No, he was just being a healer concerned for the heroes under his charge.

Oh yeah, you liked Chisaki. Like liked him. Developing feelings for Chisaki was not something you expected to do. At first, you were almost scared of the man. You had considering limping home to take care of your wounds on your own but the hero you had been a sidekick for at the time wouldn’t allow it.

At first, you thought he was scary but you realized he was just a bit grumpy. After a few visits of observing his odd behavior, the gloves, and mask on all the time, a coworker explained that he had mysophobia. A fear of contamination and germs. It made you respect him even more, he could have easily hidden away from the world and all the things that made him uncomfortable. He had an amazing quirk, the ability to reconstruct wounds with just a touch. It had healed a lot of people and even saved their lives.

Chisaki didn’t just work in the office at your agency but he worked on the scene during big disasters and worked at different hospitals. No doubt that was all very stressful for him, especially since it required to contact for him to heal people, but he did it so he could help people.

Once you got more comfortable with him it was easy to fall into teasing him. While he always replied with an annoyed demeanor he never stopped you so you assumed it didn’t bother him that much.

At first, you didn’t even realize you liked him like that. You just thought you enjoyed teasing him. It was until you realized just how eager you were to see him. It wasn’t unusual for you to stop by his office with a paper cut and pretend like you were dying. He would sigh before standing up and pulling off his glove and healing it. It didn’t escape your notice that he would heal your wounds no matter how small, even if you were joking.

Then you started to realize how your face would heat up when he got close to you to heal you. How even on your worst day just catching a glimpse of him made it better. How your mind drifted to him any chance it got. How he even made it into your dreams.

The thing was, you were a confident person. Being a hero it helped to be confident in yourself, in your abilities, in as many things as you could but relationships were where that confidence stopped. He was a coworker, what if he told you it would be uncomfortable to date a colleague? What if he just didn’t like you back? What if he disliked you? There were so many bad scenarios in your head.

It was safer to do nothing, at least then you could hold onto the interactions you had with him.

Now if someone asked you to explain your thinking at this exact moment you weren’t sure what to say. You probably weren’t thinking at all. The gash in your abdomen was deep and you were most likely in shock.

Blood dripped onto the floor as you tried to make it to your office. Your hand gripped against the hallway wall trying to keep yourself steady.

“What the hell?” You heard a familiar voice. “What happened? Why aren’t you in my office?”

Hands gripped at your shoulders. Blurry eyes moved up to look at Chisaki.

“Hey there, how’s your day going?” You asked before your knees gave out. Chisaki grabbed you before you could hit the ground. If you were more coherent you would be impressed at how easily he swept you off your feet into his arms and you would have been flustered.

He carried you into his office placing you down on his couch, his hands pulling up your shirt to look at the wound. He took in a breath at the sight of it before he placed his hand just below the wound. You let out a hiss of pain before it disappeared just leaving the mess of blood behind.

“Thanks, doc.” You said with a lazy grin, still out of it.

“What were you thinking? Where were you going?” He asked with an edge to his town.

“Uh, I don’t really know. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’ll come in here with a paper cut but you decided that was the wound to ignore?” He huffed standing up and grabbing a wet cloth. He returned wiping away the blood. You tried to get up once he was done but he pushed you back down. “Stay here, you need rest. The wound his healed but you still lost a lot of blood.”

Chisaki left again before returning with water and a snack. He pulled his chair over to sit at your side, watching as you drank the water.

"You should be more careful." He said.

"Believe it or not I do try." You said with a smirk. "Hero work tends to be a bit dangerous."

"I know but you seem to be in here more than anyone else." He said.

"I am clumsy." You defended.

"I don't think clumsy gets you a wound like that." He countered.

"It might." You joked.

"Be more careful." He said. "And don't try to hide a wound like this again." His voice sounded serious.

"For you, of course."

The day had started pretty normally. Hero work was surprisingly redundant at times. Petty crime was easy to manage and helping out where you could was nice but as a seasoned hero, you knew better.

Things could take a turn in a split second and that's exactly what happened. An explosion rang out blocks away and just like that you were headed into the chaos.

It was bad. Casualties were already seen and the dust hadn't settled. Your injuries were bad but you wouldn't give in, not yet. Blood dripped down your mouth and pain burned everywhere, you weren't even sure where your worst injuries were.

You braced yourself against the side of a building that collapsed as you faced off against the villain. You kept on a bold front despite your state but you weren't sure how you could pull this off.

Another blow and you tumbled across the ground before landing harshly. You let out a shaky breath as your lungs filled with air after the wind being knocked out of you. As you tried to get up your arm collapsed beneath you.

Winning the fight and keeping people safe had been the objective but at this point, you weren't sure you'd make it out alive.

"What a joke." The villain said.

"Stay down." That wasn't a voice you expected. Your eyes drifted up to see Chisaki.

"It's dangerous," You said, a cough interrupting your words blood dripping down your chin. "Get back to safety." You tried to get up but you had no strength left.

"It's okay, just don't move." His voice was oddly confident considering he was a healer about to face a villain. Weirdly enough you felt a sense of comfort drift over you. "I'll be back for you in a moment."

It was hard for you to watch but you turned as much as you could waiting in anticipation to see what would happen. You felt helpless knowing that you couldn't do anything.

What happened next was the last thing you ever thought you would see. Chisaki was able to manipulate the stone around him with just a touch. As fast as the fight started it was over.

How had you never realized that his quirk was more than just mending wounds?

More heroes came to capture the villain taking him away as Chisaki returned to your side. At your side he pulled you onto his lap, it was nice. Your eyes drifted closed.

"Hey, stay with me, okay?" He said, his voice more panicked than you had ever heard it before. A hand pressed against you and your wounds began to be relieved. You let out a hum. The intense pain began to leave. "I need to wait to heal the rest."

Chisaki stood, taking you in his arms. This was the second time and you'd admit you wouldn't mind it happening more often. Although if it took being this injured to be held by him then you might need to reconsider that. You could tell you were still bruised badly, he could only heal so much at once. It wasn't because of his quirk but rather the person being healed. It was shocking to the body for so much trauma to just disappear.

Before you could realize it you were drifting off to sleep.

Waking up you weren't expecting to be in your own bed. The pains you had felt before were fully relieved now. Opening your eyes fully you certainly weren't expecting Chisaki to be sitting beside your bed.

"You're finally awake." He said in a soft voice.

"Your quirk," It didn't escape you that he had been hiding a part of him, maybe hiding was the wrong word. Withholding. "I didn't know you could do that."

"My quirk isn't healing or even manipulating organic material." He said. "I can disassemble and reassemble anything."

"Wow." You said. "That's amazing. Why do you only heal then?"

"I don't like that side of me." He said in a serious voice. "I know it can be used for good, if I hadn't used it today you would be dead and probably many more. It feels better to use it to heal people."

"I understand." You said.

"You do?" He said looking up with a surprised expression.

"Of course." You replied. "Violence can be used to help, to save people but it's still violence. Not everyone is comfortable with it. Everyone has different quirks and different histories. Only you can decide what you want to use your quirk for and healing is the best thing you can do to help people."

"People usually think I'm wasting it, or that I'm bad for not doing more to help people." He said.

"No one has to do anything with their quirk, we could both be accountants but we're here trying our best to help." You replied.

"Thank you." He said in a soft voice. This had to be the most serious conversation you'd ever had with him.

"I should be saying that to you, I'd be long gone if you hadn't shown up." You said with a small laugh.

"I was really worried about you." He said with a sigh.

"Really?" Worrying didn't mean anything, you were friends.

Chisaki looked conflicted for a moment before letting out a frustrated breath.

"I- I like you." He finally said looking up at you again. "I know that it's not appropriate, we work together but I can't help it. I look forward to seeing you but I hate that it's only when you're hurt. I hate seeing you hurt even if it's just a scratch. I want to see you and not because you're hurt or we're at work."

"Oh." You said, stunned by his admission. "I didn't think you felt the same way. To be honest I started looking for any reason to see you. I really like you too."

Chisaki smiled and you just about died. You had never seen him smile before and you were almost certain it was the most perfect thing you had ever seen.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, a tint of pink on his cheeks. You smiled big.

"You don't have to ask." You said.

Chisaki stood up moving to your side, hand brushing from your hair to your cheek to the side of your neck. He looked so comfortable touching you which meant a lot considering his fears. Leaning down his lips met yours.

Separating you were breathless and both smiling. You grabbed him by his shirt pulling him into the bed with you. You realized how impulsive that was but the laugh he let out not only shocked you but let you know he wasn't upset.

"Can you stay with me?" You asked. "I don't want to be alone."

"Of course." He said leaning in for another kiss.

"If you want to see me outside of your office I think we need to set up a date." You said teasingly, lips brushing his.

"Friday at seven?" He said.

"Sounds perfect." You said kissing him again.

@sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume

[lilallama]

Bunny Killer [teaser?]

Pairing: Yandere reader × Namjoon × Yandere Jeongguk

Genre: Yandere/Serial killer au

Warnings: mention of serial killer! Jk, kidnapping, obsessiveness, delusional behaviour and polyamorous relationships

[A/n: Maybe I'll make it a series. Idk yet. This is kinda like the prologue. Request are open for bk!Y/n, bk!Jeongguk and bk!Namjoon.]

》

In the dark of the night, a shadow rushed through the dimly lit streets. The infamous bunny killer, a ruthless serial killer whose face was always obscured by a rabbit mask, was stalking another victim. A young college student, on his way home from the library. The ringing of his phone echoing through the abandoned alley he found himself in.

"Hey, Ma."

'Namjoon? Are you alright?' His mother sounded panicked.

"Of course, Ma. I was just at the library. I'm on my way home now."

'You have to be careful. That damned killer is going around town, have you heard?'

"I have. It's all over the news. But don't worry, I'll be careful."

'You better be. I couldn't-' The shadow slammed Namjoon onto the ground. The young man could feel his heart racing. Despite all his efforts, he could not get the stranger off him. In a matter of seconds, a cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose. The intense stanch of chemicals filling his airways. He started feeling dizzy as his body went numb. The shadow softly stroke through his hair. "Shh... Everything's alright. You're safe now." Gradually Namjoon blacked out listening to the humming of the strange person.

》

The first thing Namjoon took notice of were the soft sheets and bed he rested on. If he was truly kidnapped like he remembered, why would they let him rest on something so comfortable? For a second, the thought of it all being a mere nightmare ran through his head. Only to them get crushed by the intense migraine he felt. A ringing sounded in his ears as he stayed dead silent, not moving an inch or even daring to open his eyes. He heard a door opening and presumably two people walking towards him.

"He's still sleeping. Jeongguk, I told you to be gentle with our angel!" A hand reached out and caressed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Y/n... Please don't be upset with me. I was just so excited! His mother just wouldn't shut up and it made me so angry." Namjoon recognised that voice. It was his kidnapper.

"I know, bunny, I know. I'm not upset with you. But you need to learn how to control your anger. What if you had seriously harmed our love?" He could not tell, but his kidnapper looked horrified at the idea.

He carefully stroked through Namjoon's hair again, "I'm sorry, beloved. I didn't mean to hurt you, really." He sounded regretful, borderline ashamed. But their conversation only confused Namjoon more. He was sure he never met either of them, yet they talked in such a loving manner of him. Their voices sounded completely unfamiliar to him, so it couldn't be a crazy ex or something.

The room was now silent. The only thing Namjoon could hear was the pounding of his heart. He tried so hard to keep his breath regular, in hopes of fooling them into leaving again. But neither made a move to go anytime soon.

"He's so beautiful."

The unknown voice chuckled, "He is, isn't he?" They stayed silent for a few seconds, "Jeongguk, be a dear and fetch our love some water and a cool-pack."

"Yes, Y/n!" The hand running through his hair disappeared, he heard rushed footsteps and a door opening and closing. Then everything fell silent again.

Namjoon could feel the eyes of the other person practically burning through his skin with their gaze. "I'll be right back, dearest." The stranger pressed a kiss on his forehead. He had to use all of his self-control to not flinch away. He heard the person walking towards the door, open and close it again.

Instinctively he let out a relieved sigh. Namjoon opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. A few white spots appeared in this field of vision, causing him to rub his eyes while groaning. His migraine was still just as horrendous.

"I knew you were awake." The froze in shock. His eyes metting with the ones of the stranger. They didn't leave the room. How could he have been so stupid? How could he not have seen them? "You're so incredibly smart. Our little bunny was definitely convinced. But you can't fool me, dearest. Your breath was uneven." Namjoon was terrified. What would they do to him now? His stomach twisted as he thought of all the possibilities what would happen to him now. But worse was the thought of what they have done to him already. The stranger now stood next to Namjoon, who stayed paralysed by fear. They observe him for a second. "We haven't done anything, if that's what you're concerned about." Namjoon calmed down a bit, before remembering that it still didn't rule out the possibility of them doing something soon. "Calm down, love. I know this is all very scary for you, but we're not going to hurt you or anything." They smiled widely. Just then the door opened again.

"I'm back!" A young man with black hair and tattoos entered the room with a cool-pack and a glass of water. He looked like the type of people Namjoon was always told to avoid. The druggies, the bad influence, the rebels. Namjoon and the boy make eye contact. Before he had the time to process what happened, his kidnapper let the cool-pack fall to the floor and hurried to get to him.

"My angel! My love, you're awake! I missed you so much. Your eyes are so beautiful!" Namjoon was absolutely terrified, but the other person just laughed. "Kookie, you're overwhelming him." The boy snapped his head towards them. "O-oh no! I'm so sorry! I was just so excited to see you again and- and I wasn't thinking. Please forgive me?"

"Don't worry, bunny. I'm sure our love will forgive you." The person gave the other a kiss. The young man practically melted in their embrace. "I love you! Both of you!" "We know, we know. Now, how about we introduce ourselves first."

During the entire exchange, Namjoon was completely lost. Who were these people? Why did they say they love him? Does he know them? They couldn't have been hook ups, he doesn't go to parties. Why was he there? And what the fuck is wrong with these two? "Love, pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face. My name is Y/n and this is Jeongguk. We're your lovers." Wait, what?

"What?" Namjoon's voice was rough and groggy. His throat felt dry and sore, causing him to start coughing violently. Jeongguk panicked and quickly brought the glass of water to him. He wanted to refuse but the water was practically shoved down his throat.

"Are you okay, love?" Y/n asked, petting his back. "What do you mean 'Lovers'?" They just chuckled at his confusion. "Silly, you know exactly what the term lovers means." "I do, but I don't know you." Jeongguk eyed him so such intense love that it truly scared Namjoon, "You don't have to be shy, angel. We still love you, even if you don't know us."

That was the strangest part....

[To be continued...?]

[itsamejin]

it’s you || part 1 || taehyung angst/fluff || hanahaki au

Part 2

Summary: You’d rather live with thorns endlessly scratching the back of your throat than be devoid of the light that Taehyung brought into your life. Even if your love for him was slowly killing you, you didn’t mind as long as you could keep the warmth of his presence until the very end.

Warning: Mentions of throwing up, coughing up blood, death, some slight violence

Genre: Fluff, Angst, hanahaki!au, college!au, fuckboy!tae

Premise: Hanahaki Disease comes in different forms in this universe. The disease would eventually disappear if your love wasn’t that strong to begin with, but if you truly, deeply love someone, your flowers will rip at your throat. Throwing up flowers wasn’t a rare occurrence and for most people it disappeared after a few days. If Hanahaki persists, surgery is recommended, but it would severely dull the positive emotions of the person under surgery. Due to this, some choose to die with their unrequited love. 

Commission Request: @guksflavor

Word Count: 8,313 words

—

Taehyung was obnoxiously handsome, too handsome to be a normal guy majoring in Psychology at one’s local university. Often mistaken for a celebrity, frequently breaking girl’s hearts, Taehyung was known as the campus “flower boy”. 

It was never meant as a term of endearment. In fact, it offended Taehyung deeply when people would whisper about his private life as if he was incapable of hearing the slight jabs to his character. The nickname came from the notorious fact that Taehyung would cause several people to spit out flower petals from his mere presence alone.

It was the common case of “love at first sight”, a kind that never lasted very long after getting to know him. 

Of course, throwing up petals was the first sign of the feared Hanahaki Disease, but it was never that serious when it came to Taehyung. The flowers would stop after a day or two and the girls who convinced themselves that Taehyung would be their future husband soon realized that their feelings never reached below the surface. 

Their love was shallow, for no one really loved Taehyung outside of his good looks and he didn’t really mind. 

Why should he when he hasn’t fallen in love either?

That’s why he was thankful for you and the rest of his close friends who scoffed at his blatant attempts at flirting. He was grateful for you helping him study or telling creepy girls off when they got a little too close to him at parties. He liked that you rejected his advances and that you cared deeply for him despite his tendency to annoy you. He appreciated having a friend that just... wanted to be a friend.

So why were you in the campus restroom stall, for the fifth time that week, spilling your guts out into the toilet? Why were you grasping at the wall, holding onto it for dear life, as you stared at a striking bundle of yellow flowers coated in toilet water? Why did you cry at the sight of beautiful and fully bloomed daffodils?

You swallowed back the incoming wave of discomfort but it kept coming. All because you couldn’t help but have your heart flutter when he put a hand on your shoulder. Your mind swam in thoughts of him and you weren’t quite sure if you could go on like this. If you could continue to want someone when it only brought you pain.

Why were you in love with Kim Taehyung when that was the last thing he wanted from you?

—

“Want to see something cool?” Taehyung asked, sprawled on your living room floor next to you. It was one of those lazy days you had with him, the kind that was only meant to be enjoyed by friends.

“No.”

Taehyung gave you a dirty look but sat up anyways.

“I’ve been working on my flexibility lately,” he chided. “I can touch my toes for 30 seconds now.”

You closed your eyes and gave him a fake smile.

“Good for you,” you sighed. Sometimes Taehyung had too much energy that you couldn’t match up with. You liked to humor him on days like this when he got extra pouty.

“So you’re not even gonna look?” he said, feigning sadness. 

You rolled your eyes behind closed eyes and sat up to face him. You regret opening your eyes because his face was far too close to yours. You would have given him a flower shower right when your eyes locked.

“What was that?” he chuckled. “You looked like you saw a ghost or something. Am I that scary to look at?”

He squeezed your cheeks with both hands and you attempted to pull away from him, only to have him squeeze harder.

“Yes, you’re hideous,” you said through broke sentences. “A beast. You look like a half-eaten mango.”

Taehyung burst out in laughter and let go as he let himself collapse back on the floor. He was that confident in his looks to not mind your snide comments.

“That’s rich coming from you,” he cackled.

You glared at him and hit his stomach with your fist, earning a big ‘oof’ from the oversized child in front of you.

“Say one more word and I will never set you up on that date with my friend,” you threatened, hurt that you had to mention another girl for Taehyung to quit his laughing.

“I’m sorry my queen,” he said dramatically, pretending to kneel at your feet. “I have wronged you.”

You scoffed at his antics and pinched his ear as he wailed for you to stop.

“This is what you get for being stupid,” you said through his cries for help. You lifted his head up to your face and was met with a dazzling grin. Why did he have to smile like that towards you? Why did he lead you on in the most innocent way possible?

“You love when I’m stupid though,” he teased, attempting to tickle your sides.

‘I love you even when you’re not stupid,’ you yearned to say out loud, but the words never escaped your lips.

—

As the days passed it was getting harder and harder to speak. The thorns of some of the flowers made permanent etch marks in the back of your throat. You could muster yourself to sound normal on most days, but just earlier you had thrown up a dozen roses at a small social gathering and the embarrassment and pain had become unbearable. 

You wished there was an easy explanation for your pain, but any time you tried to voice your thoughts out loud, you felt suffocated.

Your friends had noticed pretty early on that you had Hanahaki, but like everyone else, they thought it would disappear just as quickly as it came. Taehyung probably would have noticed if it weren’t for him being so desensitized to the disease that he never even bat an eye when you’d excuse yourself from the bathroom every time you two hung out.

He was the naive type, the one that needed to have it spelled out to him when an explanation was due. Maybe that’s why your heart would hurt so much at the thought of telling him about your condition. It would probably break him if he knew.

“[Y/N], at this point in time it’s imperative that you get surgery,” your doctor said sternly, twisting around in his chair. “It’s not safe to continue on without treatment.”

When the three month grace period passed, it was strongly recommended for you to get the surgery before your vocal cords were damaged beyond repair. 

If you continued to suffer from Hanahaki, death would be awaiting any moment.

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m willing to take that risk.” 

You had your reasons for not wanting surgery. It’s not like you wanted to die, but getting the procedure came with its consequences. Emotions would not come easily and there would be an absence of love in your life... not just for the person you have feelings for, but for everyone around you. So here you were, six months in and losing your voice more and more as the days went by. You were aware of what awaited you next.

You would know. Your mom went through the same procedure.

“You’re very young,” your doctor started, sighing at your stubbornness. “I know that this is a difficult situation, but getting this surgery will save your life. I can’t force you to change your mind, but I want you to weigh your options.”

You nodded at him but tuned out his words as to not be convinced. You couldn’t bear to see Taehyung as just another face, no longer finding the meaning behind his smile, no longer seeing the beauty in his movements. You would rather die a painful death than let go of the love you had developed for a man who didn’t feel the same for you.

“I’ll let you know if I decide differently,” you replied with a whisper. He looked at you with a tinge of disappointment.

“I can’t prescribe a higher dosage of painkillers,” your doctor said solemnly. “Any more and that would be killing you just as much.”

You looked down onto your knees and felt tears stream down your face. Whatever you choose to do, it would end with you in heartbreak anyways. You figured this was the least painful option.

—

Taehyung was always the type to mess around and flirt without thinking. You could count time and time again of him getting kicked out of bars or clubs from talking to other guy’s girlfriends and leaving Jungkook and you to clean up the mess. 

The intense gaze his eyes would hold when he’d see someone he found attractive, the way he’d confidently saunter towards them without feeling nervous. You admired Taehyung because he was someone you could never be. So himself, so unafraid of what the world would think of him.

You took a shot of whiskey and swallowed harshly. Your throat was burning from the petals that had invaded it earlier in the day, but you needed to drown out your feelings of sorrow somehow. Taehyung had managed to sneak back into the club, now making his way onto the crowded dance floor looking for his next target.

“You feeling okay?” Jungkook asked, patting your back as you coughed a bit at the taste. Jungkook was your mutual best friend with Taehyung, the defining person that made you the Three Musketeers. He was your rock when times were tough.

“I feel like shit,” you sighed deeply, watching as Taehyung grabbed an unassuming girl by the hand and blew her a kiss. “It’s like the flowers get bigger each day.”

Jungkook knew about your disease. In fact, he was the number one supporter of you getting that life-changing surgery that would impair your emotions for Taehyung permanently. He wanted you to live more than anything, even if it meant costing you a semblance of your happiness.

“Why don’t you just confess to him?” Jungkook asked bitterly. “I mean it couldn’t hurt, right? You’re basically preparing to die at this point.”

You scoffed at his straightforwardness. He was obviously upset with your decision to refuse the surgery and he was showing it to you in a very Jungkook way by making petty comments in a shady club. 

He’d never gotten Hanahaki so he would never understand, you thought.

“If I told Tae, wouldn’t you think he’d hate me?” you asked genuinely, tilting your head up at Jungkook. He stared down at you and you could tell he was holding back... because you knew the right answer to the question was yes.  He’d have the same reaction as any other womanizer who couldn’t keep a relationship to save his life.

Taehyung would hate you if you loved him. 

“He’ll probably ignore you for a bit, but that’s him being stupid,” Jungkook sighed, patting you on the head to comfort you a bit. “I mean, he’d probably try and force himself into falling in love with you if you told him about your... situation.”

You pursed your lips. You could see Taehyung do exactly just that. That was his classic way of ghosting the girls he messed around with, but Taehyung would never commit to those same tactics with you. He considered you like family and he’d probably blame himself until the end of time if he were to find out.

“See what I mean?” you avoided eye contact with Jungkook as you felt your eyes tear up a bit. “It would be all fake. He’d hate me and then pretend to love me and then I’d die either way. It would hurt a hell of a lot more if I let that happen.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows and glared at you.

“There’s always the possibility that he does fall in love with you, y’know?”

You shook your head and fiddled with your fingers.

“Taehyung doesn’t fall in love,” you muttered softly. 

The two of you stayed silent, aware that the words you uttered were true. Even as he danced with beautiful women around him, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes solely on Taehyung. He would never let himself be so vulnerable as to fall in love with somebody, let alone a close friend like you.

So why did you let him worm into your heart so easily?

—

Six months ago...

“[Y/N], I’m asking you just this once,” Taehyung begged, puppy eyes activated. “I am begging you to give me her number.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He always wanted to bother you when you worked your shift at the bookstore. Somehow, Taehyung still didn’t want to make himself useful by helping you put away books.

“Tae, we’re in the same class,” you sighed as you stacked up some magazines on top of each other and pushing a bunch of them into one of the higher shelves. “You could just ask her yourself.”

He whined and gave you that infamous pout known to make every girl on campus swoon. If it weren’t for your self-control you would have punched him right then and there for trying to act cute with you while at work.

“I can’t be too direct,” he replied with those pouty lips. “The other girl I'm trying to get with in that class will notice.”

You scrunched your nose. For someone who hated giving people Hanahaki, he couldn’t help but play around with girls as if it were a sport. He was practically an expert in making himself hated amongst his exs.

“You’re gonna regret being such a fuckboy one of these days,” you warned, but taking out your phone to pull up her number anyways. “Mark my words.”

He let out a cheer and hugged you from behind, squeezing you until the oxygen left your body. You tried to push him off of you, but he didn’t budge. It was better to just let him get his clinginess out of the way and then kick him in the shins later.

“I’ll treat you to dinner for this,” he said, grinning as you sent him her number through text message.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed. “Please let go of me I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek, a sound that resounded from the store so loudly that it made you wince.

“Love ya,” he smiled, rushing out of the store like a giddy teenage girl. You clenched your fists and touched the area he pecked. Somehow it made you angry at how excited he looked at the thought of another girl. 

What did they have that you didn’t? Did you not exist to him at all?

You clutched onto your stomach as you felt something rumble. You felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of your throat and asked your boss if you could be excused. You tried making it to the bathroom in the back of the bookstore but you stumbled on a pile of books before you could reach your destination. You were on your knees, clutching your stomach as you hurled the contents inside of your stomach onto the wooden floors.

‘I’m so getting fired for this,’ you thought, as you kept your eyes clenched. When you decided to open them, you weren’t met with the soupy substance of the pizza you ate earlier that day, but with an array of pink peonies scattered across the floor. You shook your head out of disbelief. 

No one throws up that many flowers on the first day of contracting Hanahaki. It was always one or two petals and it never came in full blooms of flowers. You had experienced this before with a boy back in middle school and it never turned out so... dangerously beautiful like this.

The sight in front of you was astonishing, the books stacked behind the scattered petals made for a picturesque view. Something about it didn’t sit quite right with you though, as if this signaled your demise.

You whisked through the flowers to see if anything abnormal was found in the flowers and there you saw it. Small specks of blood on the petals.

You realized then that you were screwed.

—

Present

The club continued to stay lively as Taehyung danced his heart out, simultaneously avoiding the bouncers that made their rounds around the club. He couldn’t risk getting kicked out again. 

While you enjoyed seeing how much fun he was having, it made you sick to your stomach at how up close and personal he was with other girls. It made your blood boil at how easily it was for Taehyung to be so enamored with someone he could meet just five seconds ago, but feel nothing for you when you’d been friends for much longer. You held onto Jungkook’s arm to keep you steady as you felt another vomit session come up. You were starting to get dizzy and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“You look like you’re about to faint any second now,” Jungkook said, worry etched all over his face. “Do you need me to take you home?”

You just laughed softly and grabbed onto the table in front of you instead of Jungkook. You weren’t leaving tonight knowing that Taehyung was still having the time of his life in front of you, even if it hurt to even stand. You just needed to take your mind off of him, that’s all.

“Jungkook, if you just randomly got amnesia one day and forgot everyone around you, how would you feel?” you asked him, pouring another round of whiskey into your glass to ease the headache.

“What does this have to do with you fainting?” he grumbled, stealing your shot and gulping it down for yourself. You scoffed at his blatant attempt to keep you from drinking.

“Just answer the question,” you said, now eyeing a girl Taehyung had his body pressed against. She looked about ready to pounce on him any second.

“I don’t know, I’d probably feel like shit,” he shrugged, motioning for you to pour him another drink. You obliged.

“Well that’s how getting that fucking surgery would feel like,” you said rather aggressively as now the girl was taking Taehyung to the back of the club, where the restroom stalls were. You felt the familiar feeling of choking occur but you muscled through it.

“You’re overreacting,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t drink the shot yet and instead handed it to you. He noticed Taehyung getting dragged to the restroom too and felt like you needed it, even if your hands were shaking as you grabbed it from his hands. You clenched your fist as you swallowed the cold liquid. It had flushed down the flowers temporarily.

“Not overreacting. I’ve seen it first-hand myself,” you said.

He looked at you, surprise written all over his face, but didn’t press any further. That’s why you appreciated Jungkook so much. He never overstepped his boundaries, unlike Taehyung who practically invaded your personal space each time you saw him. The two were so different from each other and you were so different from them. You wondered how the three of you even became friends.

“I don’t want to turn out like an empty shell for the rest of my life,” you continued, still holding the empty shot glass to your lips. “I’d rather die doing everything I wanted to rather than live a meaningless life.”

He glanced at you, slightly impressed by how stubborn you truly were. Nothing would get to you and no amount of pleading would make you change your mind. You weren’t going to get that surgery.

“So are you gonna make like a bucket list or what?” he asked, taking the whiskey and chugging it straight from the bottle. You looked at him in disgust as he detached himself from the liquor. It seems like both of you were drinking to forget.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” you smiled, finally setting the glass down as you saw Taehyung exit the bathroom looking disgusted. “Might as well since I’m gonna die anyway.”

You two laughed at the morbidity of it all. It wasn’t a funny situation to be in, but you had to make the most of it. Would this be the last time you go clubbing with Jungkook and Taehyung? Would your life end before it even really started?

“That girl puked hydrangeas on my fucking shoes,” Taehyung yelled, rushing to the two of you. “We gotta leave, I am not having her follow me around after this.”

Jungkook and you scoffed at his silliness. This was better, you thought. The atmosphere between Jungkook and you earlier was so grim. Typical Taehyung brightening up the mood wherever he went.

Even as the feeling of thorns pricked against your throat, you couldn’t shake off the smile that was on your face. For Taehyung had made you happy and you couldn’t imagine not feeling any emotion other than love as he looked at you with such sincerity.

You couldn’t bear the idea of Taehyung not having an effect on you.

—

“Please, Jungkook,” Taehyung cried, shaking him back and forth as all three of you stood in the university hallways waiting for the lecture hall to open. “Just give me the notes, I’ll give them back I promise.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue and tried to pull his backpack away from Taehyung who was furiously trying to make a grab at it.

“Fuck off dude, you should’ve studied when you had the chance,” Jungkook sighed, searching for some assistance from you. “It’s not my fault you got wasted at the club last night.”

Taehyung whined at Jungkook’s reluctance to help him out. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t cram any information that morning with that stupid hangover of his. Pretty soon, Taehyung was looking at you too, expectations written all over his face. You huffed out an annoyed breath and opened up your own bag.

“Tae, just use my notes,” you shook your head lightly, taking out the composition book tucked near the back of your bag. “Stop bothering Jungkook, he looks ready to start a fight with you any moment now.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up in a way that made your heart stop, naturally gravitating towards your direction. He looked so pure and innocent in moments like these when he gets something he wants. You couldn’t help but feed off from his positive energy.

You handed him your notebook as he stared at it in awe.

“You are the only person who wants to see me succeed,” Taehyung said dramatically, kissing your notes as if it were the seventh wonder of the world. Jungkook scoffed and smacked Taehyung’s head.

“What are you gonna do without [Y/N] always covering you?” he rolled his eyes. Somehow his words stung a bit. 

You didn’t think Jungkook really knew the weight of his own words, but you were thinking deeply about it. What would Taehyung do without you being there for him all the time?

Taehyung shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, [Y/N]’s gonna be my guardian angel forever,” he teased and put an arm around you. You clenched your jaw and looked down a the floor. You could not let yourself yack some damn petals in that hallway during exam season.

"Do you not feel sorry for her one bit?” Jungkook scoffed, clearly done with Taehyung’s childish antics.

“Why should I?” Taehyung asked innocently, nuzzling into your hair as he held you tight. Somehow his touch felt suffocating, even though his arm was lightly placed on your shoulders. 

“It’s not like she can live without me either,” he teased, booping your nose. 

Jungkook and you exchanged glances and both simultaneously pulled on his ears.

‘If only he knew,’ you thought to yourselves.

—

After the quiz that Taehyung most likely failed, he invited Jungkook and you over to his place to eat some ramen. 

“Sorry man, we actually have a life outside of you,” Jungkook said, declining his offer. “I’ve got extra shifts at work to cover anyways.”

You nodded at Jungkook’s excuse and proceeded with your own.

“I have some stuff to catch up on, so I can’t go,” you replied, trying to act nonchalantly. “Maybe next time, Tae?”

He shook his head at you two, feigning sadness.

“Both of you always act cold towards me, I’m starting to feel like this is a one-sided friendship,” he sighed, clenching his heart as if he was shot. It took everything in you to not step on his foot right then. He might not know about your condition, but the comments were unnecessary regardless if you had Hanahaki or not.

Jungkook and you simply stared at him and he awkwardly put his hand down when none of you showed a reaction.

“Fine, go do whatever,” he said, pompously. “I was gonna invite a girl over for dinner anyways.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, bro. Have fun or whatever,” he said, trying to shoo Taehyung away. “I’ll walk [Y/N] to her dorm, you just leave.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue at him, but eventually left, leaving you to be with Jungkook alone.

“He’s the worst,” you sighed, and to that Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“You’re still choosing to die for him, though,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. You flinched at his words, saddened by Jungkook’s word choice. If he put it like that then you sounded like a weirdo.  

An awkward silence fell between the two of you. You half-expected Taehyung to come back to you guys and interrupt your conversation to help lighten the mood, but he never came. Jungkook expected you to talk first since you were the one that asked to talk to him anyway, but it was clear his underhanded comment had made you uncomfortable.

“Why did you want to meet up with me anyway?” Jungkook asked, easing the tension just a bit.

You coughed awkwardly and looked up at him with a new sense of determination in your eyes that he hadn’t seen in a while. You seldom looked motivated these days.

“It’s about that bucket list thing you mentioned yesterday,” you started. “I want to do one of the things as soon as possible.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Why?”

You bit your bottom lip, not quite knowing how to phrase what you were about to say without making Jungkook upset. He’d probably nag at you like he usually does.

“I don’t have a lot of time left, Jungkook,” you said softly. “I just want to do as much as I can before I get stuck in a hospital bed.”

He stared down at you with sorrowful eyes. He wished there was some other way to help you, one that didn’t ultimately end in you dying.

“What do you need?” he asked kindly, surprisingly taking your words pretty well. 

You smiled up at him and pulled out a piece of paper from your bag. Jungkook took it from your hands and was met with small sketches of flowers that you had presumably drawn. He studied the designs carefully, confused. 

“Okay, how the hell am I supposed to know what this means?” he asked you, angling the paper in different ways to see if he was supposed to crack a code or something.

You shook your head in disappointment. You thought he’d get it by now, considering it was in his line of work.

“Tattoos,” you said simply. “I want a whole sleeve of flowers on my right arm and a bunch of small ones on like my thigh-”

“Stop stop stop,” Jungkook said, waving a hand in front of your face to shut you up. “You want a what now?”

You smiled brightly and spoke with more confidence.

“I want tattoos!”

He scoffed and handed back the paper to you.

“Are you only saying this because you’re gonna get discounted at the shop I work at?”

You shook your head rapidly, not amused by his assumptions.

“No, I’ve just always wanted them,” you said seriously. “I was always too scared with the needle but since I’ve got nothing to lose, I thought why not?”

Jungkook poked you with his index finger in the area between your eyebrows.

“You need to stop talking like that [Y/N],” he said seriously. “I hate when you get all negative.”

You smiled sadly at him.

“Give me the tattoos and I’ll stop talking,” you teased, but your words lacked genuine feeling.

Jungkook heaved out a sigh.

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you regret it,” he said, turning his back to you so he could make a call to his boss. Turns out he actually would be working that day.

—

The feeling of Jungkook’s needle on your skin didn’t hurt as much as you nearly thought it would, the pain only coming in dull waves. 

After throwing up flowers consistently for the past few months, nothing could quite match up to the pain of thorns poking at your throat at random times of the day. To you, this was child’s play.

“You’re taking this pretty well for a beginner,” Jungkook complimented, still focusing on the light curves of the forget-me-nots he was etching onto your skin. A whole array of flowers would be drawn on your arm eventually.

“I’m good with my emotions unlike some people,” you said, clearly referencing how agitated Jungkook had been recently. He seemed to lash out every little thing and even made snide comments when he thought no one was listening. Jungkook was definitely taking your situation harder than you were at this point. 

He only smiled at your words, not making any big movements as to not disrupt his work.

“I’m just shocked you’d want the stuff that’s gonna kill you to be on your body forever,” he replied back. Although he spoke too morbidly, he made a fair point.

“Well, the flowers mean more to me than just that,” you started, slightly wincing as Jungkook’s needled started drawing on a new patch of skin. 

Jungkook noticed your discomfort and tried to ease your mind.

“Tell me about that,” he asked, hoping you didn’t feel even more uncomfortable with the question. He anticipated your reply as you coughed awkwardly.

“I’m actually doing this for my mom,” you said softly, avoiding eye contact with him. “She had Hanahaki too and it didn’t turn out well.”

He took a step back to get a good look at your sleeve. He had been working at this tattoo for two hours now and he only seemed to finish just one small section. ‘This would take several sessions of hard work,’ he thought to himself.

“You never talk about your mom,” he pointed out, lightly dabbing the bleeding parts of your skin to avoid infection on your skin.

“My mom got the surgery,” you said slowly, suddenly feeling a sting as the needle hit your skin again. “She found out my dad cheated on her after throwing up flowers for a couple of nights.”

He stopped his movements for a bit, shocked with your revelation. He knew you were hiding something, but he never expected it to be this big. He looked up at you and regretted seeing your sad expression so up close. It seemed you were about ready to cry.

“It literally broke her,” you continued. “She didn’t find joy in anything anymore. Like, she was a completely different person.”

Jungkook stopped his wrists from moving and pulled back a bit. He didn’t know how to comfort you. It was always Taehyug’s forte when it came to emotional stuff. What was he even supposed to say?

“Did you tell her?” Jungkook gulped, his words were shaky. “About not wanting the surgery.”

It was then that you started to break down and it wasn’t from the pain of getting a tattoo. It was the look of complete and utter worry from Jungkook that set you off into a fit of tears. 

“Who is there to tell, Jungkook?” you whispered through the tears. “She’s dead.”

He looked at you in shock, not really registering your words. Obviously, your mother hadn’t died from Hanahaki, she already got the surgery. The reason, he knew, must’ve been much more sinister. He didn’t quite know how to approach you as you hiccuped through your tears. He patted your back in reassurance and repeated time and time again that it was okay, that Taehyung and him would be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you mumbled. “I’m a shitty friend.”

He shook his head and was about to reply when an unwelcomed guest came bursting through the tattoo parlor doors.

“Jungkooooook,” you heard a yodel, belonging only to a voice you two could recognize perfectly. 

Taehyung.

You made swift movements to wipe away the tears from your face and Jungkook pretended as if he was in deep focus on drawing something on your skin. Taehyung entered Jungkook’s station, unassuming and bright as ever. He held a plastic bag with takeout boxes in his hand, presumably food.

“[Y/N]? You’re here too?” he asked in confusion, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Getting a tattoo?”

You nodded hesitantly and he gave an even more worrisome look.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” he asked slowly, trying to decipher what was really happening.

Jungkook coughed awkwardly.

“I think I’m gonna check out the other clients for a second,” he said, standing up and setting down his tools. “I’ll be right back, [Y/N].”

You looked at Jungkook pleadingly to stay, but he shook his head. He did not want to get involved in whatever discussion was about to go. You sighed and brushed the strands of your hair that was getting on your face. You just hoped your red eyes from crying went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were getting a tattoo?” he asked sadly, sitting on the stool Jungkook once occupied. “Is this what you meant when you said you were ‘catching up on things’?” 

You pursed your lips, not quite knowing how to respond.

“It was a personal thing,” you whispered, massaging the back of your neck. You felt the flowers in your stomach once again.

“What, so you told Jungkook and not me?” Taehyung pouted, setting the food he brought on a nearby table. “I texted him if he was at work and he said yeah. I usually surprise him with Thai food. I didn’t think you were gonna be here too so I only bought enough for two.”

You smiled at him. Taehyung was still as considerate as ever.

He took a look at your tattoo, slightly confused with the realistic flower patterns. His fingers ghosted over them as if to make sure they were real.

“Why flowers?” he asked. He never thought of you as a flora type person. He’s probably never seen you hold a flower in his life.

“None of your business,” you scoffed trying to face away from him. You didn’t want him to see your flustered expression and the puffiness of your under-eyes. He pouted at your words and lack of eye contact.

“You’ve been so distant from me lately, [Y/N],” he said in a cutesy voice. “I feel like Jungkook and you have been hanging out with each other more than with me. I’m starting to feel really left out.”

You chuckled. You weren’t mad at him for barging in during your tattoo session, but you were frustrated with his naivety. There you were getting the most feared items on the world tattooed on your skin and he questioned very little of it? How dense was he really?

“We can hang out some other time, alright Tae?” you said, ruffling his hair lightly. “I just want this first session done and over with.”

He grinned up at you and squeezed your hand that was on his head.

“Then let me stay here to be your emotional support,” he teased, taking your hand into his. You nodded with a smile, but an uncomfortable feeling had erupted in your stomach.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” you asked urgently, pain laced in your voice. He nodded worriedly as he watched you rush off into the restroom. ‘You were having a lot of stomachaches lately,’ he thought to himself.

You covered your mouth with your palm as soon as you were out of Taehyung’s sight, making sure not to throw up anything on the tattoo parlor floor. Jungkook saw you escaping from his station and followed you into the unisex bathroom. He rushed over to you as you threw up into the toilet bowl, some excess flower petals hitting the floor instead. Tears welled up in your eyes as the flowers kept coming in several colors, all different sizes. They were all tulips, stained in blood and mucus, a truly disgusting sight to behold. 

Jungkook patted your back gently and tried to ease you through the pain. Your mouth ached as the last petal left your lips and you desperately grabbed onto Jungkook’s thigh as you coughed out blood. Your lips were horribly stained with a deep rouge.

“Water, please,” you pleaded with your strained voice in between coughing fits. 

Jungkook got you the water and while you tried to act like nothing happened when you came back to Taehyung who was playing Candy Crush on his phone, he couldn’t help but notice how raspy your voice had gotten since just a few moments earlier and how tired your eyes looked when you stared at him. 

“Are you sure you wanna keep on going?” Jungkook whispered to you. “We can have another session tomorrow. I think it’s probably best you go home.”

You shook your head.

“I just want to be with him a bit more,” you said softly, glad that the boy of your affection was so deeply engrossed in his mobile game. “I didn’t lose that much blood.

Taehyung, at the corner of his eye, couldn’t help but see a small pink petal on your shoe with tinges of red splattered on it. He saw the way Jungkook would ask you every 30 seconds if you were feeling okay when he was never the type to talk while he tattoed.

He wondered if it was any of his business to ask.

—

Throughout the next two weeks, Jungkook had finished the various tattoos you  wanted through grueling sessions with Taehyung bothering the two of you in the sidelines. Within those weeks, your health had massively deteriorated as well. The number of flowers you threw up increased by the day and the amount of blood that showed up was worrisome, to say the least. You knew your time was coming up, so it was only fair that you were to complete something you desired most before your eventual demise. 

Go on a proper date with Taehyung. 

Not like the one-on-one hangouts you had with him where you’d throw on whatever. No, you wanted to get dolled up and pretty this time, so you asked him if he wanted to go watch a movie with you and eat dinner after. You knew it wouldn’t change how Taehyung felt about you since he wouldn’t even consider your invitation as a date, but you still wanted to look your best regardless. 

You got ready hours before he intended to come over to pick you up. You lathered on several layers of lipstick, not really knowing what you were expecting to happen anyways. When you finally made your way outside, you were satisfied the starstruck look in Taehyung’s eyes

“Wow you dressed up today,” he chided as he saw you exit your dormitory. “You have someone to impress or what?”

He winked at you and you only scoffed in response. It was obvious that he was staring intently at the new tattoos you had embedded into your skin. It was nice seeing him look at you in a way that you weren’t used to... like he actually found you attractive.

“Please, I look good for myself,” you said confidently. “Can’t say the same for you considering you wore that shirt yesterday.”

He clicked his tongue in your direction.

“Whatever, whatever,” he said, waving his hand in front of him. “I get to have you all to myself today. No Jungkook in sight. I could rub this in his face later.”

You laughed at his silliness. If you wanted to delude yourself, you’d have thought Taehyung was jealous. He was so cute, with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked at you with a flushed face. You only had to tolerate the fluttering feeling in your stomach for a few hours or so, how bad could it be? You just needed to endure it until Tehyung left and you were free to throw up all the petals you needed to.

“Let’s go to the movies?” you offered and he smiled, agreeing with your suggestion.

It was nice like this, walking by his side without a care in the world. It made you sad to think that this too would be taken away from you. That you’ll never get to hear him babble about dates gone awry or see how his smile would get wider when he saw his favorite food again. It would all be taken away from you eventually, one way or another. You clenched your fist, attempting to focus on his voice rather than the nausea that had overtaken your body. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you had to love him all alone.

“I don’t think I get to tell you enough how much I appreciate you,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “You always look out for me even when you look like you aren’t.”

You smiled at his compliment.

“There’s no need for that,” you replied. “What kind of friend would I be if I just watched you suffer alone?”

You tried to swallow down the hypocrisy that came with your own words. He had no idea that you were lying through your teeth right then and there. You tensed at the sound of Taehyung chuckling at your comment.

“That’s what friends are for after all,” he said in agreement.

It happened almost suddenly. The first cough and then a second and then you couldn’t stop your knees from hitting the concrete of the city sidewalk.

“[Y/N],” Taehyung shouted, kneeling next to you on the crowded street. His voice was distorted among all the other sounds you were hearing. There were bells, whistles, the sound of an incoming storm. You started hyperventilating.

‘Not here, not here. Anywhere else but here,’ you screamed to yourself in your head.

You clenched your stomach and tried to hold back the impending contents that were soon to escape your lips. You shook your head as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. You didn’t want Taehyung to see you like this.

“[Y/N], tell me what's wrong,” Taehyung pleaded. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

You couldn’t help as the tears rolled down your face as the first petal left. And then another. By then, a crowd had formed around you two and someone was in the process of calling an ambulance. You couldn’t stop the bloody white roses that escaped your lips, slashing the inside of your throat as more of them came. All parts of your body ached, but your heart hurt the most. Taehyung’s face was in such distress and you were the reason for it.

You were the reason for his pain just as he was the reason for yours.

The last thing you heard before collapsing in his arms was Taehyung screaming your name, the blood mixed with lipstick on your mouth staining his shirt. He called for help and eventually, they did come. They came but it felt like he had already failed you somehow. Like he could’ve done more to protect you.

As the EMTs hauled you off into the ambulance truck, he took one last glance at the pile of flowers that stained the concrete.

It looked too similar to the flowers drawn near your shoulder.

—

Taehyung sat near your hospital bed, clenching his hands together and shutting his eyes to even out his breathing. ‘I’m a dumbass for not realizing earlier,’ he thought to himself.

The nurses had filled him in about your condition just a few moments earlier. He found out that you were six months into being diagnosed with Hanahaki and that you had no intention of getting surgery. It hurt his heart to think that you were suffering all alone, carrying the burden of a terminal illness all by yourself. He hated to think that the person you loved had no idea you were in such pain. Taehyung found himself hating the person you longed for, even if he didn’t know who that was.

He took a glance at your resting features.

You looked so pale in the dim hospital lights and the sound of your heart monitor made him apprehensive. You had Hanahaki and you never bothered to tell him? Was this another one of your secrets you were hiding from him lately? He sighed, burying his face into his palms.

"You don’t deserve this [Y/N],” he said solemnly, brushing away some strands of hair from your face. “Anyone would be lucky to have you be in love with them. That person doesn’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Taehyung went through a list of people in his head who could’ve been your possible unrequited love. It couldn’t be Namjoon, the guy that was helping you out all the time at the bookstore. You two barely talked. It wasn't Seokjin from lecture hall either, you said he wasn't your type. Was it Hoseok from the same department? Perhaps was it-?

He webbed his fingers through his hair out of frustration. Who could it possibly be?

Taehyung was disturbed from his thoughts from a slight knocking sound that continued on for a few seconds.

"Come in," he replied back cautiously.

To Taehyung’s surprise, Jungkook opened the door, a bouquet flowers in his hand as he walked through. Taehyung's body tensed at the sight of him. He had put two in two together and now he clenched his fists together, tightening his jaw.

It was him. It had to be him.

"I would've come earlier, but I wanted to get these for her when she wakes up," Jungkook said solemnly and set the flowers down near the hospital nightstand. "How's [Y/N] holding up?"

Taehyung stood up from the seat next to your bed, cracking his neck to the side to release some tension. He came close to Jungkook, glaring at him in a threatening stance. Taehyung grabbed at his collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing bring flowers to a patient with Hanahaki?"

Taehyung's voice didn't sound quite like he usually did. There was a growl akin to anger in the way he spoke. Jungkook pushed him off of him, confused as to why Taehyung was picking a fight with you when you were sleeping just a few meters away.

"It's just a nice gesture," Jungkook seethed. "Why are you being so fucking hostile when you didn't even know she had Hanahaki in the first place?"

Taehyung scoffed, shoving Jungkook by the chest.

"You knew?" he squinted his eyes at Jungkook. "You fucking knew and you didn't do anything about it?"

Jungkook took a look at your sleeping form. He was glad you weren't awake to be hearing this because he was ready to do something he'd regret. He didn’t mind getting kicked out of the hospital if it meant putting Taehyung in his place.

"Why should I do anything, huh?" Jungkook sighed. "I’ve been begging her to get the damn surgery. She won't fucking listen to me!"

Taehyung punched him right then. His wrists were bound to bruise by the impact of it all and Jungkook just stared at him in shock, clutching his cheek.

"It's your fault that she's dying," Taehyung started, tears welling up in his eyes. "You should have fucking tried harder to convince her. You could’ve stopped this."

Jungkook charged at him and pushed Taehyung against the wall. It was a miracle you hadn’t woken up from all the noise they were making. There was bound to be complaints from neighboring rooms for the ruckus the two boys were causing.

"Me?" Jungkook gritted his teeth, taking a good hard look at Taehyung. "You’re saying I'm the reason?"

Taehyung scoffed at his face and pushed him off.

"Who else then? Who else is fucking killing [Y/N]?!" Taehyung cried, his voice echoing in the hospital room.

Jungkook took a step back from him until he soon brought his fist back to hit Taehyung square in the jaw. He fell onto the floor and cringed at the pain.

“I know it’s not my business to say anything,” he mumbled, but loud enough for Taehyung to hear him. “And that it’s between [Y/N] and you but I’m really fucking sick and tired of seeing her break down over someone as incompetent and stupid as-”

“Can you just spit it out already, you piece of shit-”

Jungkook threw another punch at Taehyung when he made his way to stand. He had collapsed on the floor again, trying to readjust his jaw. Jungkook’s hand was bleeding at that point, but he didn’t care one bit. Taehyung deserved everything that was coming to him.

“It’s you,” Jungkook seethed. “You’re the reason why she’s fucking dying!”

Taehyung stared up at him in a state of shock as your body had started to wake up into consciousness. The two boys stared at each other, dripping in anger.

“What did you say?”

—

A/N: Another Taehyung fic up my sleeve! Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger like that :P The second part will be a lot more intense. Special thanks to @guksflavor for commissioning this and also buying 2 coffees for me, I really appreciate it. It was a whole lot of fun writing this first part and I hope you guys enjoyed it. It’s my first time writing about Hanahaki Disease, so I wanted my interpretation to be slightly unique. I’m so glad I got a request like this from the get-go, since I love these kind of angsty stories. If y’all want to commission for stories or simply donate, my Kofi is linked on my blog. If not, that’s totally fine, I’m thankful for your support either way.

PS. Trash part two comes out at the end of this week, please anticipate it a lot!

[miraculous-ninjabird]

Posting this older work at the request of @rosiehunterwolf

No I don't have anything else context wise for you, sorry

No Working Title

Rating: T for swearing and tw

This is Angst.

TW for: panic attack, mentions of pain/injury, mentions of body modification

Word count: 1862

Summary: Lloyd wakes up after a dangerous showdown with his father that ended badly. Something isn't right, he knows it. He's just not sure what. It doesn't help he can't remember what happened

The first thing that Lloyd becomes aware of is the pleasant sound of singing. The melody is unfamiliar, but soothing. It reminds him of a memory he can’t quite fully grasp. Just a fuzzy feeling of warmth, and safety. It’s a feeling he feels the need to cling to with all his might. A large part of him wants nothing more than to stay just like this.

Another, smaller, part of him is telling him he should do...something. But he is tired. So incredibly tired. He would much rather stay as he is, comfortable and listening to the unfamiliar song.

If he had been in charge, he would have stayed as he was forever. Unfortunately, his mind was being incredibly uncooperative and it was becoming harder and harder to focus. There was still something… Lloyd tries desperately to remember what it is. His brain short circuits and in the end he gives up, allowing the music to lull him back to sleep.

When Lloyd comes to for the second time, he is more aware. Soft voices are arguing above him. A throbbing pain makes itself known to him, pressing behind his eye. He makes an attempt to blink, and instantly regrets the choice. Doing so causes the pain to morph from something moderately uncomfortable into a white hot searing sensation that, for a terrifying moment, completely overtakes him. It starts to fade quickly enough, but it leaves him uncomfortable and upset. In an effort to distract himself, he focuses on the conversation above him.

“Please. It’s been three days. You have to take care of yourself Kai,”

“It’s at least partially my fault this happened. I’m not leaving until I know he’s gonna be okay,”

“I’m not going to get into the fault argument since we’ve already been there. But we know he’s stable. I’ll be here the entire time. Nothing is going to happen. Just six hours. Sleep, eat, shower.”

“I can sleep and eat without having to leave,” Kai counters weakly. Even in his hazy state, Lloyd could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“We both know you won’t do either of those things.” Nya pushes gently. “I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left that chair for something other than the bathroom in the last week. That’s not good for him or you. You won’t be any help to Lloyd, now or when he wakes up, if you can't at the very least take care of yourself. The last thing we need is both of you out of commission.”

There was a pause, followed by Kai grumbling his agreement. Lloyd struggles with himself, making an effort to do anything to let Kai know that he was here. A movement. A sound. Anything to reassure Kai that he is here. He feels himself slipping back into unconsciousness. He tries to fight it, but as the soft singing from before resumes, he knows he’s lost. Barely a moment passes before he sinks into the darkness once again.

When he comes around for the third time, he is actually able to open his eyes. He is once again met with a stabbing pain, but this time it is more bearable. Blinking slowly, his vision begins to come into focus. Something about it was off but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. All he knew is it was making it difficult to think and even harder to focus. The harsh lights do little to help.

The room he’s in is unfamiliar. Sparsely decorated with dull grey walls, there isn’t really much to look at. An empty chair is placed next to the bed with a blanket folded neatly across the back. There is a sink in one corner, and another door leading to what he assumes is a bathroom. He is alone.

As Lloyd struggles to push himself into a sitting position, the door slides open. Nya steps in, steaming mug gripped tightly in her hand. She looks up, starting in shock when she sees Lloyd. The mug slips from her grasp, shattering on the ground. She hardly seems to care as she rushes to his side.

“Lloyd!” She cries. “You’re awake? Since when? How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Urghhhhhhh,” He groans, not quite able to quite form a coherent thought. Nya pauses her questions, seemingly realizing Lloyd wasn’t ready for that yet. Strong arms reach out, helping to settle him into a comfortable upright position. The lights are still too bright. He presses his hands into his eyes in an attempt to relieve the pain. It feels wrong, in a way. The skin under his one hand feels far too cool and strangely...metallic? That couldn’t be right. He must be imagining things.

“Is something wrong?” Nya taps his hand gently, bringing his focus back to her.

“Lights,” he murmurs.

“Oh! Let me fix that…” she gasps. There is some shuffling and the lights dim to a more acceptable level. He lowers his hands and squints. This he could deal with.

“Better?” She asks, and Lloyd nods. Nya gives him a smile. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since...a minute or two ago?” He blinks rapidly as one half his vision blurs strangely, almost like tv static. “Something is wrong with my eye. I can’t quite...I don’t know. It’s all blurry and weird.”

Nya’s smile drops instantly. She reaches out, grabbing both of his hands, fixing him with an intensely worried look.

“Lloyd, how much do you remember?” She presses gently. Lloyd racks his brain.. He remembers going to visit his dad, but the events afterwards are a terrifying blank.

“I...I don’t know,” he whispers. “I can’t remember anything from after I got there.”

Nya lets out a soft ‘oh’. The look on her face tells him there is something he should be remembering.

“Not to scare you or anything but…” She steps away, retrieving a hand mirror from the sink and handing it to him. Lloyd takes it, looks, and immediately drops it. He stares at the wall for a moment before hesitantly picking the mirror back up, studying the reflection.

“What the fuck. What is that? Nya. Tell me right now that I’m imagining things. Fuck. This can’t be real,” Instead of two completely normal matching human eyes, he has...whatever this is supposed to be. His left eye is now entirely black except the iris, which glows an eerie green color. Matching green lines etch the side of his face, extending up into his hairline and across his cheek. WHY DOES HIS EYE LOOK LIKE THAT? What the fuck happend to him?

As he stares, his vision once again starts to blur. Panic surges through him as he realizes what he is looking at. He has a robot eye. An honest to god robot eye that he has no memory of whatsoever. Someone had cut his eye out and replaced it with this monstrosity. Why can’t he REMEMBER?! Desperately he tries to recall something. Anything really. He comes back with nothing. Just one giant empty blank. There had to be something. You don’t just wake up one day with a robot eye and not remember it.

Out of nowhere, a thought strikes him. His eye. It looks just like Zane’s had. The lines carved across his face look just like the ones running up and down Skylor’s arm. The glowed the same shade as everything in his father’s stupid base. Did that mean…?

An uncomfortable constricting feeling takes root in his chest and he lets out a strangled gasp. No no nonononononono this couldn’t be happening. Stupid stupid stupid! He would never...but his dad. His thoughts begin to spiral as he desperately tries to stop himself from piecing things together. He no longer wants to know. Don’t think. Don’t remember. It’s too much. It’s all too much.

“Lloyd. Breath,” Nya’s voice cuts through his panicked haze. As she speaks, he becomes aware of the fact he has not, in fact, been breathing. He takes a gasping, shuddering breath. His lungs don’t like that and he devolves into a fit of coughing. The mirror is plucked from his grasp and firm hands squeeze his arms with just enough force to drag his mind back to the real world. Nya speaks again.

“Look at me.” He obeys, turning his gaze on her. She opens her arms, a silent gesture. Lloyd doesn’t hesitate, flinging himself at her with what limited strength he has left and pressing into her. With a start, he realizes that he is crying.

“You’re scared. I would be too. I wish I could tell you it was all a dream,” She murmurs softly. “This is undoubtedly strange and scary for you. There’s no avoiding it.”

Strange and scary? Life altering and utterly terrifying seemed more appropriate terms. Waking up missing part of his memories wasn’t a thing he really knew how to handle. Unexpectedly becoming part android was not something he was equipped to handle. Theorizing his father was responsible was NOT something he wanted to even think about handling. Not in the slightest. How was he supposed to move on from this?

Nya seemed to sense he was spiraling. Maybe the fact he has started to tremble uncontrollably had given it away

“Hey, hey. I wasn’t finished. You may be experiencing something horrible, but you aren’t alone. I’m here. Kai is here. The others are all here. Whatever happens. We are here to support you.” Nya pulls him tighter, pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

Lloyd doesn’t really know what to say. There isn’t really anything he can say. He finds himself clinging to her like she is a lifeline. His head is throbbing, and he finds himself feeling drained. Nya’s arms are warm and comfortable, but it’s not enough to drive off the fear. It clings to him, worming its way into every dark corner of his mind. He wants to scream, but the best he can get is a choked sob.

In response, Nya starts to hum. Lloyd recognizes the tune immediately. It was the same one from before. He latches onto the sound with everything he has. The effect was almost instantaneous. When focused on the soft notes, the panic fades to the background. It was still there, but more manageable than before. Slowly but surely, he starts to feel like he can breathe again. His whole body relaxes into Nya’s embrace. Maybe if they could just stay like this...

It’s only a few minutes before Nya hears the soft sound of snoring. Looking down, she sees that exhaustion has won out and Lloyd has once again slipped into unconsciousness. That was a relief. She’d screwed that up big time. Next time he woke, she would make sure to tread more carefully. And when Kai came in to relieve her, she would have to make sure to update him on the situation. He would undoubtedly be mad, but she wasn’t about to leave a panicking Lloyd to go wake him up. Looks like things were going to be far more complicated than they’d originally thought...

[pinnithin-writes]

newfound information

I have a running theory that Goemon Ishikawa is legally blind and decided to write something about it. This is some of the gayest and most pointless shit I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. 1778 words. 

“I’d like to know,” Goemon said, “what color your eyes are.”

Thick silence wrapped the room like a blanket. The scratching of Lupin’s pen on a notepad stilled. For a while, the only sound was the tic tic tic of the radiator.

“Which one of us?” Jigen asked. The leather of the couch creaked as he leaned further back in his slouch.

Today marked a full week they’d been crowded together in a drafty apartment in Zürich - the morning had passed with Jigen smoking and Lupin planning and Goemon untangling the knots within him. The coffee table had been shoved aside to make room for a cluttered spread of maps and books on the floor. The heist was days away, and Lupin was audibly puzzling out their approach as he cross-referenced the recon notes his partners had put together.

Goemon wasn’t facing either of them; he had his forehead pressed against the window, eyes unfocused. The street below their hideout was a brick red blur. I’ve never seen Switzerland before, he’d commented upon their arrival, and Lupin had chuckled at his joke.

“Both.”

“Oh,” Lupin answered brightly. “They’re brown. I thought you knew.”

He did, in fact, know they were brown. Lupin and Jigen had both mentioned their eye color to him before. There were a lot of things about his partners’ appearances Goemon had pieced together over the few years they’d been working together. 

It wasn't that he couldn’t see them at all. He just saw them at a distance that usually reduced them to a collection of colors and shapes. To Goemon, Lupin was a bell-tone laugh and a flash of bright red and a courteous hand on his elbow when he passed in the hall. Jigen was the smell of Marlboros and a longsuffering, gravelly sigh and the steady click of leather shoes on hardwood. They were whole, complete people to him already. 

But lately he’d been hungering for details he wasn’t sure he could have. Certain things that required a proximity Goemon rarely permitted. 

“What?” Jigen interjected suddenly. “They are not. They’re gray, right?”

A soft rustle as Lupin set his notepad aside. “Really, Jigen? How long have we known each other? You don’t know what color my eyes are?”

“They’re gray. I swear to god they’re gray.”

“It says ‘brown’ on my birth certificate!”

Goemon wordlessly listened to their argument as he turned away from the window. He leaned back on the sill in preoccupation, the cool glass chilling his neck. He should just ask. It beat staring at the street and dwelling on it for hours. 

He ran his thumb in distracted circles against Zantetsuken’s sheath. “Can I see them?”

“Lupin’s birth papers? I’m not sure they’re legitimate,” Jigen said, ducking quickly to avoid the pen Lupin chucked at him. It clattered harmlessly behind the couch. 

“No,” Goemon clarified sharply. “Your eyes.”

“Oh.”

A beat of silence passed, which Lupin broke first. “Well, sure you can,” he answered. “Then you can vouch for me.”

Goemon imagined he was shooting Jigen a barbed look as he said this. A stack of papers shifted as he unfolded his skinny legs and stood, and then Lupin was crossing the room toward him. Goemon felt his heart rate tick up - he hadn’t expected his odd request to be honored. Lupin’s visage grew clearer as he approached, until Goemon could easily clock his lopsided smile and tweaked eyebrows. 

Lupin tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned in close. “What do you think?” he asked. “Brown or gray?”

“Hold still.”

Narrowing his eyes, Goemon raised a hand to grasp the other man’s chin, tilting his face this way and that. The light from the window fell softly on his cheeks and the slope of his nose. Lupin blinked expectantly. He was close enough that Goemon could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

Gray was his first impression. Silver, really, like a pair of shiny round coins. Lupin’s gaze was restless, darting back and forth between Goemon’s own eyes as he allowed himself to be examined. His skin was startlingly soft.

“Hold still,” he ordered again, tugging Lupin closer.

This time, Lupin obeyed, fixating on a single point and staying there. His previously cheeky grin disappeared when his jaw went slack, and Goemon felt a tiny puff of air as Lupin exhaled. 

He could see now that his irises were also flecked with shades of brown, ringing his pupils in a lovely starburst. Goemon studied Lupin’s eyes a moment longer, taking note of how they settled from ink to fawn to ash from the center out, committing the image to memory.  He observed his facial structure - how it was soft and sharp all at once, unique and conspicuous. Lupin’s fondness for disguise made more sense to him now.

Goemon was sure the man could hear his pulse thudding in his neck at this point, so he finally released him. “Both,” he said conclusively. “Probably varies with the light.”

Lupin was slow to step away, cheeks rosy. “Oh,” he managed to say. “So… we were both right.”

“Indeed.”

Jigen was uncharacteristically quiet from where he watched on the couch. Goemon heard him tap ash idly from his cigarette before taking a contemplative drag. “Sounds like a cop out to me,” he murmured as an afterthought. 

Goemon slanted him a glance. “You could see for yourself,” he challenged, brows raised.

“I’ve seen ‘em already,” he grumbled. 

Lupin took another step back, melting out of focus to his usual blur of black and red, and folded his arms. “Jigen, dear, I believe it’s your turn.”

Jigen coughed. “Excuse me?”

“You're up next. Let the man see your eyes.”

Sensing his hesitance, Goemon’s mouth softened from its steady set line. “Only if you want-” 

“No,” Jigen was already interrupting him. “I’ll do it.”

The couch protested as he leaned to set his cigarette in the ashtray, elongating into a dark capital I when he stretched and stood. The approaching tap of his shoes was slow and familiar.

“No need to look so nervous,” Lupin teased, leaning impishly into Jigen’s personal space as he pulled to a stop.

Goemon prodded Lupin out of the way with the sheathed end of his sword, resting it against his sternum in a silent warning. Lupin retreated, smirking, while Jigen drew in an almost imperceptible breath and let it out slow. The same technique he used before pulling the trigger on an impossible shot. Goemon reached to remove his fedora with as much care as he could, pressing it delicately against his chest.

“Hold this, please.”

Jigen nodded. The tips of his fingers trembled where they touched the felt.

“His eyes are definitely gray,” Lupin commented, angling his chin at Jigen. “Oh my god, are you shaking?”

Goemon gave Lupin a pointed tap with Zantetsuken in lieu of reprimand. He fell silent.

Out of respect for his trepidation, Goemon was gentler with how he handled Jigen’s face, nudging his jaw one way and then the other with the backs of his knuckles. Stubble prickled his skin. He was struck by how sharp his cheekbones were at this distance; he had never really noticed their prominence before. He was certain they’d draw blood if he ran his thumb against them.

Jigen’s eyes were significantly darker than Lupin’s. Storm clouds gathered around his pupils, shades of slate and black bleeding into one another. Instead of meeting Goemon’s stare, he determinedly stuck his gaze at an indiscriminate point somewhere past his left ear. These were marksman’s eyes, sharp and steady and missing nothing. Shame he hid them under his hat all the time.

Goemon dropped his hand from Jigen’s face. “They are gray,” he agreed. 

The swiftness with which Jigen stepped back and replaced his headwear was possibly the fastest he’d ever seen him move. He cleared his throat, adjusting the hat’s brim. “Great. Glad we worked that out.”

Lupin jabbed him with an elbow. “Congrats on surviving the ordeal.”

Jigen grumbled something indistinct, tipping his chin and hiding his eyes further. 

Goemon kept his expression carefully neutral. Now that he possessed this newfound information, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He had learned quite a bit more about the others than intended; not only about their appearance, but their mannerisms, as well. Their relationship with closeness. He didn’t know there was a way to turn off Lupin’s motor mouth. He didn’t know Jigen became so mystified when touched.

These were things he would file away for later, additional pieces for the frustrating jigsaw that was his feelings.

“Thank you,” he uttered finally.

“No problem,” Jigen responded at the same time Lupin said, “That’s what we’re here for.”

Goemon scoffed with disbelief. “Is it?”

Lupin paused and moved out of the way to allow Jigen passage. Goemon caught a whiff of smoke - he must’ve resumed his previous task of mangling the cigarette he’d been working on. Lupin leaned easily against the window beside Goemon, not as close as before but close enough he could tell the master thief was examining him. Embarrassment creeping into the back of his neck, Goemon lifted a prompting eyebrow in his direction.

“Sure it is,” Lupin went on. “I ask you two for weird favors all the time. It’s only fair.”

“Hm.” Goemon was skeptical.

“We’re a team,” he insisted. “It’s good for a team to know each other really well. Right?”

“...Right.”

“Useful for recognizing each other in disguise.”

Grateful for Lupin’s valiant effort to spare his dignity, Goemon allowed a small smile. “Sure.”

Lupin grinned back, tilting his head to the side until his temple touched the windowpane. “I’d never really looked at your eyes this close before, either,” he admitted, some of the bravado leaving his voice. “They’re really… intense. Super dark.”

“Pretty,” Jigen added around the cigarette in his mouth.

“Pretty,” Goemon echoed, caught off guard by the compliment.

“Pretty scary,” he clarified hastily, and Goemon couldn’t hold back a soft laugh.

Silence settled on the group, introspective rather than discomfited. Goemon’s heart rate was beginning to return to normal. The atmosphere in the room had shifted into something thick and unnameable, and he was definitely responsible for the change, but it didn’t feel bad. Just new. Unfamiliar. And while Goemon was out of his depth, it was reassuring  to know the others were just as bad at navigating this as he was.

“So,” Lupin clapped his hands together emphatically. “That was a nice break. Let’s get back to business, shall we?” He swept a gesture at the paper nightmare on the floor.

The team murmured their assent, but not much else was accomplished that day. 

[lucifers-favorite-pen]

I saw that requests are open and I was wondering if you could do some fluff with Satan ?? 👉🏻👈🏻

I can be more specific if you want, if not you have creative freedom, I’m just a simp for him

I would love to write one of my favorite writers some Satan fluff. As you know, I just published my Luci piece, so i’m a little creatively drained atm, but I’m also really excited bc I like the idea I just got for you :D

I hope you like it! I’m sorry, it begins a little more intense than I thought it would. 

---

Bedtime Stories (Satan x GN!MC)

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: Satan x gn!mc

Genre: Fluffyyyy

Warnings: Nightmares, moderate gore, mention of blood, claustrophobia 

Word Count: ~1.3k

---

You were sprinting through a dark, dense forest. Branches caught on your clothes, in your hair, and on your skin, ripping and shredding anything they touched.

It hurt to breathe. 

It hurt to run.

But you had to keep going, or you would die. 

You don’t know what is chasing you. You only hear snarling, and feel the ground shake every time the creature behind you bounds closer to you. You feel it’s hot, putrid smelling breath on the back of your neck when you trip on a rock and fall, stumbling to get back up just before it caught and devoured you. 

As you sprint, and trip through the forest, you manage to work up enough courage to look behind you, wanting to see the beast chasing you.

The second you turn your head to look over your shoulder, you feel your body collide with a cold brick wall. 

You hit it at a dead sprint, so your body bounces off of the wall like a tennis ball and you land on your back. 

You cough a little, the wind was just knocked out of you and you’re out of breath from sprinting for God knows how long. As you try and open your eyes, only your right one opens, as you see nothing but red in your left eye. 

You run your hand over the left side of your face, and can only assume you have some how shattered every bone on that side of it. Everything hurts, and feels out of place.

There isn’t a tree canopy anymore? 

Only bright, florescent lightbulbs that burn your one good eye when you look at them.

You stumble to your feet, when you notice you’re not standing on forest floor anymore. 

No, you’re standing in a black, granite cube. No doors, no windows, just cold hard walls. Walls that begin to move in on each other.

You begin to panic, limping to the wall in front of you to try and push it back with no avail. You start screaming for help, and look up to see a giant child looking in at you from the open top of the box. 

She smiles at your screaming, and reveals rows upon rows of razor sharp, yellowed teeth. You turn to run, but are met with a wall. She laughs at you, and reaches down to pat your head with her finger. 

“Shhh it’s ok. You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you,” she says over and over, smiling villainously down at you as you are backed into a corner, watching the walls close in on you.

You’re still screaming and pressing your arms the walls on either side of your body, trying to stop them from moving any further as the walls in front and behind you press against your back and chest. The press harder and harder, until-

You jolt awake, gasping for air. Your ears are pounding and your eyes are adjusting to the dark room around you. You go to move a strand of hair out of your eyes and realize that your arms are still restricted, and you hear quiet words cutting through the sound of blood rushing to your ears, “Shhh you’re safe now, it was just-” 

You cut the voice off with your screams and flails. 

“I’m still trapped, and she’s still talking!” you thought as you squirm and scream within the walls of the box. 

You feel the walls of the box lift from around you, and two strong hands secure your violently shaking head to one place. 

“Hey hey hey, look at me look at me,” you hear a familiar, comforting voice say to you. Your eyes finally adjust and you see the owner of the voice, Satan. 

Your boyfriend, your best friend, your protector, your lover. 

You calm down a little, and wrap your hands around his wrists. Anything to steady yourself. 

“There you are,” he coos at you while wiping the steady stream of tears below your eyes with his thumbs. He’s also taking deep breathes with you and slowly slowing the pace of them, hoping you’ll subconsciously mimic him. “You’re safe now, Dove. Nothing will ever hurt you here,” he whispers as he brushes some hair from your sweaty forehead. 

You feel sobs well up in your throat, and you throw your arms around him, completely falling apart. He catches you, and wraps both his arms around you in a secure embrace. He lets you sob into his shoulder as he rubs small circles into your back, and whispers soft reassurances in your ear. 

“Shhh it’s ok. I know it was scary. It’s ok, I’ve got you,” 

Slowly but surely, you calm down with Satan’s help. After about an hour after you stopped crying, he feels the tension in your shoulders start to give a little, and the death grip you have on his shirt starts to loosen. He waits until your heart beat slows to a some what normal speed before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head no, and he nods in understanding. He figured as much, but thought he would ask anyway just in case. 

“How about I read you a bedtime story? Would you like that?”

He pulls away from you to look at you when he asks. You decide that you would like that, and nod your head while wiping your face with your hand. He smiles down at you, and presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Great, I’ll be right back,” he says as he lets go of you and begins to turn to get up from the bed. 

You feel the terror start to creep back in and you feel as if your stomach just dropped to the floor. You reach out and catch his arm, yanking him back down on to the bed. You wrap yourself around him and fling your arms around him again, burying your face in his neck. 

“Don’t-”, you begin but are cut off by a sudden sob shaking your body. Satan places his hand on the small of your back to secure you against him, and sits up on the edge of his bed with your body wrapped around his. 

“Shhh I’m here, I’m here, baby,” he coos wrapping his strong arms around your body. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you manage to choke out. 

Satan nods and rubs soothing circles on your back until you calm down. 

“I’ll never leave you, MC,” he mumbles into your night shirt. You nod in response, and feel him stand up from the bed, lifting you with him. 

“Let’s go pick out a book, shall we?”

~~~

Satan carried you, like a koala, around his room, up and down ladders, and up and down stacks until you found a story book you liked. He then laid you down in his bed, crawled underneath the covers with you, and began to read aloud. You laid with your head resting on his chest, his hand tracing lines up and down your shoulder as he read short stories to you. 

It took a long time before you fell asleep, but what mattered to Satan is that you eventually did. When he noticed, he smiled warmly down at you, and lightly kissed your head.

 “Goodnight, MC”, he said before turning his lamp off and nestling under the covers with you.

It wouldn’t matter if he was sleeping on the most comfortable mattress in all the three realms that night. There was absolutely no way he was sleeping. Not when the episode you just had scared him the way it did. He stayed up and kept his full attention on you, while also reviewing every single thing he knew about human sleep hygiene and psychology behind nightmares. He decided he would ask you again tomorrow if you wanted to tell him what your nightmare was about. That way, he could have a better idea of what could have brought this on. It made him extremely angry to see you suffer and experience true, debilitating fear and not be able to kill whatever was scaring you immediately. 

It didn’t matter what he had to do, he was not going to let that happen to you ever again. 

Masterpost