#and it just cracks me up that sometimes that means he yells profanities at an unconscious teen

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

Literally the next page:

New Warriors (Vol. 5/2014), #4.

Writer: Christopher Yost; Penciler and Inker: Marcus To; Colorist: David Curiel; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[wh6res]

one more time | markhyuck

"if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you’re gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" — lhc 

warnings. dubious content, swearing, bondage, voyeurism, masturbation, exhibitionism, mentions of stalking, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, there’s a knife (but no knifeplay), a threesome, implied kidnapping 

disclaimer. i dont condone anything. this isnt a normal relationship. this aint love.

note. prolly going to hell for this but who cares. markhyuck for @nakamotocore​ i wuv ya ie please get better soon! TT and dom hyuck for my napaka kalat na mami @donghyukcore​

against all rational thinking, haechan is getting bored from seeing the pathetic five feet distance between you and mark when he comes home. he tries to understand the other male in the relationship. truly, he does, even if he highly doubts that celibate little mark lee can pleasure you the way he can but everything's practically past that line now. donghyuck just wants to have some fun with you two, is that too much to ask for? at this point, he's blatantly ignoring the fact that you and mark don't even like each other.

but haechan cares for mark just as much as he cares about you and he won't just let his best friend miss out on all the fun things he can do to their little doll, right? what kind of a friend would he be? once haechan shoves him into a world of temptation and sin and pleasure, mark would kiss his self-induced celibacy goodbye.

plus, you've been awfully naughty these days.

talks about wanting to come home or getting at least a few rights to have gadgets were the only thing you said whenever you see him. it went as far as practically growling and running away from haechan when he tries to initiate something with you, screeching your lungs out and saying, "don't fucking touch me, you creepy little psycho!"

deflowering mark.

punishing you.

he'd be killing two birds with one stone.

he's fucked your stubborn little self into submission once, but all that overprivileged tv sessions might've put silly little ideas into your dumb little head again. alas, no worries, he'll just have to do it one more time. and maybe, now with the aid of his good 'ol buddy mark, they'll both be able to screw you up so good you'll never want to leave their clutches.

"gumdrop, can you come here for a second?"

haechan isn't deaf to the exaggerated groan you let out from the living room and it grates on his nerves how utterly brave you are for being passive aggressive. you reminded him of a little girl in a temper tantrum because they weren't given any candy - and when you show up in the master bedroom clad in your little pink dress, eyes upturned and sharp, a pathetic little girl was all he can think of when he saw you.

only now did he notice that you had even detangled your hair from the intricate braids haechan spent at least twenty minutes doing earlier this morning. where was mark all this time? why wasn’t he there to stop you? geez, you both are so going to get it, this time!

"what do you want?"

"can you give me a hug? i felt awfully stressed at work today. i need my little gumdrop."

this was obviously a test. don't get him wrong, he'll still punish you but if just this one time you learned to swallow that bitchy attitude and come crawling to him as the perfect lover should, maybe he won't be too harsh.

but he gave you too much credit, he thinks. of course his dumb cockwhore doesn't know shit. of fucking course, you wouldn't know it was a test. not when you scoffed, rolled your eyes at him, and spun in your heels to walk back to the living room.

"beat your meat with your own hands, creep."

haechan's reaction is immediate, his long legs allowing no delay in crossing the room to mercilessly fist your hair. he had pulled your hair so bad you thought it was going to rip right at the roots, all of his pent up anger due to your poor behavior channeling into that one grip.

you feel his scoff of disbelief against the curve of your neck as haechan pulls you flush against his body. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he laughs patronizingly. "beat my meat with my own hands – aw, baby! that has got to be the best one yet!"

it truly was, though. he's not going to lie. out of every vicious snarl and hate-induced words you said to him, that particular offhand comment takes the cake. seriously, sometimes haechan thinks you're deliberately trying to make him furious – gumdrop, if you wanted to be fucked silly, all you had to do was ask.

he hurls you to the mattress, breath knocking right out of your lungs. before you can even sit back up and crawl away from haechan, he's already crawling over your body to sit directly on your stomach, fiddling with something on the headboard. you nearly scream in frustration, no matter what you do, you just can't throw him off of you!

"i don't know why the fuck you're behaving this way but it's gone too far. one more time. do i need to fuck some respect into you, one more time?”

a new wave of motivation surges through you when you hear the familiar click clacking of metal. your eyes widened just a fraction, the only thing that gave away the unease quickly seeping under your skin. if not for haechan's perceptive eyes, he would have missed it.

he merely used one hand to grip both your wrists in a vice. "no!" you squirmed, tossing and turning and trying with all your might to get him off of you. "no! i don't want that – not the cuffs!"

he loops the respective bands around your wrists with practiced ease. the last handcuffs he used had torn and marked your skin, something haechan wasn't fond of. only he can paint your bare skin with colors.

thus, he bought newer ones. the bands were a bright shade of red, connected to each other using a medium sized chain that loops around one of the steel wires of the bed, and the little bells attached to the bands ring with your every movement.

haechan knows the bells drove you crazy. its incessant ringing driving you up the wall as you couldn't keep your hands still whenever he fucked you to oblivion – he knew how much you loathed the sound of the bells, all the more reason for him to enjoy.

and mark, too. speaking of which…

you stubbornly pull at your bounded hands, glaring at the man before you as he studies your state. the corners of his lips curl up at the sight of you struggling. "you always look so good in red, gumdrop."

before you were given a chance to reply, he stormed out of the room with a sense of purpose bounding his steps. "lee donghyuck!" you screamed. "fucking come back and get me out of these, you pervert!"

he can hear you thrashing in your chains and yelling profanities from a room away. where was the demure girl he turned you into after only a week living in the apartment? though funny enough, the blood in haechan's sadistic side rushes in excitement at the prospect of wiping that glare off your face. it wasn't the fear, nor your submission that gets him off. it was the idea that he can and he will break you down no matter how many times you try to build yourself back up again.

he's not too sure whether he's going to eliminate that dirty mouth you've developed, though. because you did make him snort in the most unattractive way when you told him he can fucking jack himself off when he had been merely asking for a hug. this aggressive side you developed is… nice. he can work with it.

"can you ask your play thing to keep it down?" mark hisses, flinching and making an offkey sound with his guitar when a certain screech from you caught him off-guard.

haechan smiles.

"why don't you shut her up?"

it took a good few minutes trying to talk mark into stepping into the bedroom where he's got you chained to the headboard, but alas, haechan can be persuasive if he wants to be.

frankly, the younger man is sick and tired of hearing both of you bicker – it's no wonder you've developed a sharp tongue! it's all mark's fault and yet it's haechan that has to do the dirty work of setting you straight all over again. you're a tough cookie to crack, someone hauntingly immune to the violence and chaos.

and yet…

"you don't – don't seriously plan on doing this, do you?" your eyes go back and forth between the two males, primarily addressing the younger, devil-spawned male. haechan, ever observant, picks up the light tremor in your voice.

haechan had uttered a playful "if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you're gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" before forcing the older boy to sit by your side, mark's thighs grazing the temples of your head as your eyes awkwardly flutter up to the spectator.

mark couldn't deny he was intrigued by the emotion reflecting in your orbs. when your eyes met, it was a silent plea, he just knew it was. and unlike vulnerable and helpless you, mark, to some extent, still had at least some sense of freedom to him. he can choose to walk away, to stop haechan from trying to get him laid, maybe even talk the other boy into postponing your punishment.

but he'll do no such thing.

not because he has a moral compass (he doesn't, really) but because mark knew firsthand, there's no stopping haechan once he sets his mind into something – and right now, if that boy wants to punish you and use mark to fulfil his exhibitionistic fantasies then that's what'll happen.

your bottoms were the first to go, haechan's blunt nails digging into your skin as he pulled it down slowly, patronizingly, while watching bemused at your squirming. "this is how you know she needs a reminder," he says, addressing mark. "a good princess should take whatever's given to her like a good girl but if she's being an ungrateful brat –"

you flinch when he harshly smacks your thigh.

"– she gets what’s coming for her, right?"

there's a second's delay with mark's reply. haechan didn't mean for the question to be rhetorical, he wanted an answer from the other boy.

"right, mark?"

"r – right…"

haechan laughs, flipping the skirt of your dress up. "what, are you that excited for pussy that you're stuttering? that's cute."

you hear mark intake a sharp breath when haechan dives in to give you feathery kisses in your inner thigh. he always starts off this way, after figuring out this gets you wet way faster than simply kissing you.

as haechan starts talking, lips lazily grazing over your skin, you fight hard not to utter a single sound as you pull on your chains. "listen carefully, markie. do you hear those whimpers? she likes it," you feel the prickles of his sharp stare. "she's just too much of a fucking brat to admit it. go on gumdrop, your fighting spirit makes this all the more interesting."

you hate the patronizing tone he used as his hands trail higher, and higher until it's pinching at the bud of your clit. and against your whole being trying to keep your lips sealed, alas, it parts and creates a soft whimper that has mark stiffening next to you.

haechan lays his tongue flat against your folds. you weren't in the least bit wet yet to accommodate his size, but that's easy. he merely circles the bud with the tip of his tongue before pushing two fingers in. months of standing in the shadows outside your window had made him memorize the movement of your fingers whenever you pleasured yourself.

he felt the jolts of the bed as you shook your head side to side, trying with everything you can to hold your moans in. a corner of his lips can’t help but curl up. "what, gumdrop? too shy to lose yourself because we have an audience? don't worry our celibate little friend over here seems to like it. go on, give him a show."

too lost in the ministrations of his lips and fingers, you don't see haechan meeting eyes with mark, nodding at an object lying on the bed side table. you can only shudder when the cool tip of a knife presses against the base of your throat, hooking under the collar of your dress as mark slowly rips it off.

but haechan doesn't have the patience. "dude, give that to me. at your phase you'll get her naked tomorrow. let the tip cut her skin, the bitch deserves it anyway."

you scream when he drags it unceremoniously down your front, narrowly missed tearing at your navel. there are a few pricks of pain here and there for when the knife accidentally nicked your skin. he sure was ruthless as can be. why did you even bother acting like a brat, cursed him out, when it gave you no benefits whatsoever? did he unknowingly transform you into this sick little masochist that thrived on his sadism?

"no."

it was a defeated whisper. the last of your resolve turning into dust as the breath escapes your lungs. why did losing feel so heavy in your chest? you don't notice your arms slumping, nor your head nodding off to one side, the weight of your horrible reality sinking into you once again as if you had only been kidnapped yesterday.

but it had not been yesterday. it's been days. weeks. months. and the last time you sneakily got ahold of mark's phone and searched for your name, the last news clip or article published about your disappearance had been three months ago. that only meant one thing.

they weren't looking for you anymore.

just like that the world continued, other people's lives continued. all the while you're stuck here, rotting in the arms of your captors.

haechan's face emerged in front of you. he smiles and you would've believed he felt an ounce of guilt if not for that wicked stare in his eyes. "you've always been most beautiful like this, gumdrop. the hope disappearing in your eyes upon the realization that no one's coming for you anymore – i love it. i love you, my pretty girl."

he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead but he might as well have shot you straight in the heart.

there was no warning, nothing to ready you for the sudden intrusion happening on your bottom half and it was so bad, that it made you shut your eyes, hands wrapping around the chains as tears started falling across your cheeks.

rough fingers reached out and wiped them away.

something felt off.

the fingers were too calloused, opposed to the softness of haechan's nimble fingers. and while the aforementioned male had more length than girth, the person who's thrusting himself inside you is the complete opposite. he's stretching you out too much, not even bothering to give you time to adjust when he's already bucking his hips like an animal.

"shh, it's okay. i'll take care of you…"

this wasn't haechan.

and when you fluttered your eyes open to see mark's boyish little face, you can't help that look of betrayal painting your features. at least you only had to deal with one obsessive, sex-deprived freak. now, you're not so sure if you can handle both of them.

how foolish of you to think that mark's self-induced celibacy stretched far and wide when in reality, he was also just a boy with his own needs. a slave to his own temptations.

how cruel. so, so cruel.

in the back of your mind, you were thankful haechan cared enough to properly get you in the mood or else you would've been staining the bed sheets red by how deep and frantic mark’s thrusts were. it felt like he wanted to tear you in half.

"if i didn't know better i'd say you're experienced, markie! i wouldn't fucking know you're a virgin by how much you're humping her like a dog.”

curse him and his dirty mouth. his constant degradation is making it easier for mark to slide in and out of you, and a proof for that is the lewd slick sounds echoing in the room partnered with the older male's deep grunts – a complete opposite of the pitched, whiny sounds haechan makes.

'gumdrop, come on! be noisy with our first-timer here just how you're always noisy with me, yeah? don't be such a killjoy." the pout in his voice is evident, coming from the side of your ear.

you wish you had never turned your head, otherwise you wouldn't have to see him pumping his own dick in his hands right in front of you. the glare you shot probably looked pathetic, what with all the tears streaming down your face and your little theory proves true when you see his mouth quirk up to the side.

"i fucking hate you."

"mark, fuck her harder, wouldja? until she learns her fucking lesson."

the disturbed stare you gave him does not slip his notice, his hand's pace turning erratic, spurred by the slick sound of your walls, skin clapping, and mark's broken whines.

make him stop, your eyes said. please.

but haechan only shoots you an innocent smile before shaking his head. "didn't you tell me to beat my meat with my own hands?"

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jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[thetaleoflevi]

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Distance

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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Content Type: SFW

TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive

Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.

Word Count: 5.3k+

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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.

“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.

“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.

“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.

Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.

“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”

You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”

Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.

It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.

It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.

You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.

“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.

“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.

Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”

He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.

Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.

—

Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.

Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.

Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.

His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.

A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”

You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.

“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.

“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.

“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.

“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.

“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.

—

The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.

As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.

The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.

Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.

By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.

He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.

“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.

“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.

He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.

“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.

“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.

“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”

Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.

“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.

“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.

Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.

The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.

Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.

You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.

“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.

It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.

You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.

“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?

With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.

His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.

Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.

He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.

You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.

If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.

Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.

“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.

Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.

Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.

“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.

He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.

You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.

“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.

“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.

He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.

“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.

Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.

“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.

“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.

“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.

“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.

“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.

“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”

You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.

“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.

[daiseukiis]

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒

𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 ; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤𝙨

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─꒱ in which we peak into how life is as the in-law of the fushiguro family after marrying megumi。

─꒱ feat. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji & fushiguro tsumiki

─꒱ warnings ; profanity and slightly suggestive

─꒱ notes ; plz this is too much, for crack rzns toji is alive and well. this is basically the shit that would happen if i was an in law of the fushiguro family but i decided to make it into an x fem!reader instead. ALSO THANKS TO THE ANON FOR GIVING SUCH A TITLE ! should i make this a series ?? 👀

─꒱ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒 | episode two

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꒰꒰ before getting married to megumi, you had to go through two people in his life; the real father and the fake excuse of a father.

꒰꒰ of course the latter was easier to handle with compared to the real father, who in fact dotes on you lots after he had witnessed you shoulder throw the nearest bitch who tried to touch you when you were out shopping.

꒰꒰ you and tsumiki are obviously very close after taking the surname fushiguro, taking turns cooking or even cooking together meals for the family. though, toji shortly enters the kitchen and starts eating the food midway.

꒰꒰ there are times when you and tsumiki are out, the men of the family would buy take out because they're too lazy to cook for themselves. you and tsumiki scold them when you get home and tell them they don't get food.

꒰꒰ then there are other times when toji and megumi would just be fighting for,,, whatever reason.

꒰꒰ that usually ends up with tsumiki throwing spatulas and a bunch of other kitchen utensils.

꒰꒰ though there was a time that she had somehow took the knife you were using to cut pork and threw it at them when megumi and toji were arguing in the kitchen.

the sound of a knife is flung in between the father-son duo, it's sharp end digging deep within the wall as the blood from the pork you were cutting it with drips down the grey paint. toji and megumi halt their aggressive words, eyes wide open as they stare at each other before looking at the knife just half a foot between their faces.

"sorry! i didn't mean to throw the knife!" tsumiki quickly moves her feet towards her father and brother to check if they were alright. the two males took a closer look at the night, she even killed a fly in the process.

you stood in your spot to stare at the sight before you. "gumi," you call out to your husband who turns to look back at you. "yeah?"

"your sister scares me."

꒰꒰ the other times to when they argued, toji would bring out his worm and megumi would summon his shikigami

you return home with tsumiki after buying groceries to hear a loud 'demon dog; totality!' from inside the house, and then in less than five seconds the white door which was installed two weeks ago is broken to bits when you witness your father get thrown out by your husband's shikigamis. you and tsumiki stop to watch as toji brings out the worm from his mouth, a pissed megumi walking out from the broken door and yelling curses at your father.

"who's turn is it to pay for the door?" you ask, blinking your lashes as you hear tsumiki sigh. "i'm pretty sure it's tou-chan's turn to pay."

꒰꒰ a lot of things break in the house often.

꒰꒰ in return, they pay for it and do the chores. though tsumiki threatened them.

꒰꒰ somehow you question why toji and megumi would be afraid if tsumiki were ever to get mad, then you're reminded about the time she threw a knife with accuracy to stop them from fighting.

꒰꒰ sometimes it's just hard to spend quality time with your husband at home when toji is around because he will purposely find ways to annoy megumi.

꒰꒰ you have gotten used to waking up two in the morning to get a midnight snack in the kitchen and witness toji come home in blood.

꒰꒰ that saying, you have also gotten used waking up two in the morning for a cup of water to witness both toji and megumi cooperating to tie up some person who tried to assassinate either or.

"burglar or assassin?" you nonchalantly ask after walking downstairs and pouring a cup of water for yourself. you hear megumi say, "came for the old man."

"i see," after finishing your drink you place the cup in the sink to wash tomorrow morning, glancing once more back to the two fushiguros that stood in front of a cursed user tied up on the floor as one or tojj's weapons were at their neck. you nod, waving your hand. "goodnight."

"i'll be in bed soon, bunny." megumi announces as he tightens the rope around the hands of the intruder, you flash a smile their way, waving your hand and making your way up the stairs. "alright, night tou-chan."

"yeah, sleep well, y/n." you grin at yourself when toji bid you night, though at the same time the said man had to stuff a cloth in the intruders mouth when megumi was instructed to stab the hand when he screamed, continuing on with their interrogation before disposal.

꒰꒰ you and tsumiki one way or another can always drag both toji and megumi out to go shopping, using them as your personal bag carriers.

꒰꒰ when you're lucky toji pays for it all. he actually loves spoiling his daughters but he would never say that.

꒰꒰ toji is constantly asking you and megumi when you'll have kids, saying that it would be good money if they got the cursed technique. it always angers megumi when he says it that, but you know that's just toji's way of showing that he wants grandchildren.

꒰꒰ on that topic when you're left in the house with toji, he'd casually ask you if megumi is fucking you hard enough and why you're not pregnant yet.

꒰꒰ you spit your water at his face that time.

꒰꒰ other times toji would invite you to a horse stadium and watch horse racing with him. but this one time you saw a t-rex costume race on the tv and quickly called toji over

"i bet five thousand yen on t-rex twelve." you point to the tv where they were broadcasting about fifteen people having a race in a t-rex costume in a horse racing stadium. toji looks plainfully at you, "you're disowned as daughter in law."

but you'd still see the small smile on his face as you hear laughing and snickering from tsumiki and megumi in the back.

tagging ; @inumakiful @to-move-on-means-to-grow @hq128​ @erensslut @churochuu @haru-senji​

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

DO NOT REPOST 、 MODIFY 、 CLAIM WORK OR LAYOUT AS YOURS.

© MGUQIIS 、 2021

[tyonfs]

game on.

❝ you play your games, and i’ll play mine. ❞

PAIRING ▸ liu yangyang x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, friends to lovers, some fluff and crack

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, hendery being oblivious as fuck, dirty talk, smut, oral sex, some aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ the lines have always been blurred between you and yangyang. you, fed up with your best friend being an absolute boy and gaming away his problems, decided to take matters into your own hands.

WORD COUNT ▸ 3238 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello! i impulsively wrote this so consider this my contribution for yangyang day ♡ i hope you guys enjoy !!

YOU WERE PISSED.

It wasn’t like you were expecting much. You just wanted to spend the evening with your best friend on the one day you both had time to hang out, but he clearly had other plans. YangYang had been playing video games all day while you were just sitting on his bed and watching him like an idiot. You rolled your eyes, going through your phone for about the umpteenth time as you listened to him yell commands at Hendery.

“Go mid, go mid!” he shouted into his mic, furiously clicking his mouse and tapping keys in tune with his command.

You finally gave up and walked over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. “YangYang,” you called with a frown. “We were supposed to watch a movie tonight.”

YangYang, startled, took off his headphones for a moment to peer up at you. “What did you say? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

You despised the gentleness of his tone. YangYang was definitely sweet by nature and had good intentions (save for his wild streak), but sometimes he was simply insensitive and ignorant of his actions. You wondered if he knew how annoying it was for you to have to sit on his bed for over an hour just to be ignored. It didn’t exactly help that you had the biggest crush on him and overanalyzed every single word and action.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine, YangYang. Keep playing your silly game,” you snapped and went back to his bed with a scowl. “I’ll just sit here and do nothing.”

YangYang seemed to realize that he had been neglecting you, so he mumbled a curt apology to Hendery into his mic and paused his game. It sounded as if Hendery was whining, but YangYang turned off his mic and put his headset down. He got up and walked over to you, sitting at the edge of his bed where you were curled up.

He raised a brow at you. “Happy?”

That tone of his just pissed you off even more.

“You can go back to playing your game if that’s what you want,” you mumbled, clearly jealous that he was prioritizing his game over you.

“I want to spend time with you.” YangYang slid his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for gaming while you were over.”

You let yourself be vulnerable and crumble for a moment, but then you ducked your head so he couldn’t see, mumbling, “I’ve been waiting here like an idiot.”

“Hug?” he offered, hoping it would make up for his wrongdoings.

You pursed your lips. You refused to give in so easily, especially when it came to Liu YangYang. He had a knack for getting what he wanted with a simple flash of that dazzling grin. In short, you were tired of having to wait for him.

You weren’t sure if that meant wait for him to hang out with you or notice your feelings for him, but both answers seemed to align well.

The lines had always been blurred between you two. It had gotten to the point where even his friends didn’t believe him when he would say he wasn’t dating you. Maybe what gave it away was the way you both would hug for a little too long, or the lingering stares, or maybe even the way he’d hold your hand when he didn’t have to.

However, whenever the topic of dating arose, you’d either shy away from the conversation or change the topic quickly.

“No.” You stood up, dragging him up by the arm and over to his gaming setup. You sat him down in his chair and slung a leg around his thigh, sliding onto his lap. “You keep playing.”

YangYang seemed to stiffen up as you straddled him, tucking your head into his shoulder. He kept you close to him, though, and placed a hesitant hand on the small of your back. You could hear him swallow thickly as he put his headphones back on and rejoined his game. He didn’t question your command, but you could tell he was much more jittery.

You turned your head a little. You could see the blush on his face and the tension in his jaw.

You scooted up further into his lap, noting how he froze as you did. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and although the two of you were practically cuddling, it felt odd with Hendery’s voice coming from YangYang’s headphones.

“Dude, where were you?” Hendery asked. “The enemy team nearly got your turret.”

“Sorry about that,” YangYang apologized, looking like a bundle of nerves, which was something you hadn’t seen before. You shifted slightly and YangYang quickly turned off his mic before cursing under his breath. “D-don’t do that.”

You stilled. YangYang just stammered, and you swore you could hear his breath hitch. A devious part of you wanted to take this further and see where it would go.

“Don’t do what?” you asked innocently, adjusting your position subtly.

There it was.

YangYang’s hard-on pressing into your thigh. The bulge from his grey sweatpants was so obvious, and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You couldn’t stop yourself from exhaling sharply into YangYang’s neck, making his erection grow and your head spin.

“That,” he grunted out, hand coming back from the keyboard to hold your lower back again.

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you observed, biting your lip as you felt him twitch under you.

Your best friend clearly didn’t want to push you, but he was enticed, and it made your heart race. “You mean… you want to?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah,” you said, hiding your face so you didn’t have to meet his eyes. This was all you’ve ever wanted, of course, but you still wanted pay-back for being neglected. “Keep playing your game.”

YangYang continued playing, although you noticed the slight shift. There was a tremor in his hands and he was very unsure about his hand placement every time he came back to hold your back. Although, you underestimated his confidence because when you were least expecting it, he bucked his hips up against yours.

You bit back a mewl, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly as his movements became repetitive. You weren’t looking at him but you knew YangYang was smug, trying to get a response out of you. You arched your hips off of his lap and he grabbed your waist, pushing you back down, right onto his rock-hard boner.

YangYang bit your earlobe as his hot breath fanned the side of your neck. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, but it was impossible when he was rolling hips up against yours. You could almost picture the smirk on his face.

You whimpered out softly, dangerously close to his mic. Initially, you didn’t mind, only thinking about his reaction to your sounds, until you realized the worst had happened. Fear shot down your spine as you straightened up quickly.

His mic was on.

“What was that?” you heard Hendery ask.

“Louis,” YangYang replied smoothly.

“Louis? He’s at my place.”

“Um…” YangYang trailed off. “Anyways, let’s push bot since we’re at their base.” He turned off his mic again and pulled you back to him, nibbling at the base of your neck. “Panties off,” he murmured, sliding his sweats and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

YangYang had, once again, gotten his way.

Your breath hitched at the sight of his throbbing cock. Desire coiled in your gut, making your entire body flush. You got off of his lap to do as he said, looping your fingers in your belt loops to tease your shorts down.

YangYang did a double take, finding it hard to focus on the game and on you at the same time. His eyes briefly met yours before they trained on your lower body, lust clouding them. Before you could take off your panties, however, YangYang was slain in the game, and had to turn on his mic as Hendery started complaining.

“That jungler is a pain in the ass!” Hendery whined. “But, dude, you’ve only got five kills so far. You good?”

“Yeah, um, I’m not doing so hot this game,” YangYang replied, shooting you a glance and leaning back in his chair as he waited out the cooldown. “The heat’s getting to me, I guess.”

“YangYang, it’s winter,” Hendery replied. YangYang closed his eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to retort, but Hendery continued, “Shit, okay, come mid with me.”

YangYang hummed in agreement and turned his mic off, a darker look in his eyes when he turned to you. “Suck me off, baby,” he said in a low voice, adding, “please.”

“But we were supposed to—”

You stopped yourself as a flush of heat crept up your neck. YangYang looked amused as you bit your lip and got to your knees, crawling toward him so that you were between his legs. When you looked up at him, he looked as if he was at his limit.

YangYang ran his thumb along your lower lip, hand cradling your chin. “I’ll make you feel good after this game, baby,” he reassured.

You nodded, pouting at how flustered he was making you feel. Getting distracted again, YangYang moved his attention to his game again, tapping keys repeatedly. You narrowed your eyes, displeased at the lack of attention.

You play your games, and I’ll play mine, you thought bitterly.

This was an unpredictable jump in your relationship with him, and you were just realizing it as you took ahold of his cock, loving how it twitched in your grip. Your lips grazed the soft skin, causing him to hiss through his teeth, squirming a bit in his seat.

YangYang’s breathing was growing ragged and uneven.

You closed your eyes and took the head of his cock into your mouth, hesitating before sucking lightly on it. You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled at how a vein appeared on his neck. YangYang unmuted his mic to reply to Hendery’s commands, removing his hand from the keyboard to grab your hair in a fistful and push you down on his cock.

A loud whimper escaped you as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. Finding a balance between teasing and careful, you bobbed your head, relishing how the thick veins along his length pulsated against your tongue. YangYang had to mute again, letting out a low and guttural groan when you started building up a faster rhythm.

He died again in the game.

Loser, you thought childishly.

But now, YangYang could focus on you while he was on cooldown. He tugged at your hair, whining when you pulled off of him. You met his eyes and lapped at his slit that was leaking with precum. YangYang’s eyes darkened and he thrusted back into your mouth, making you whimper as you suddenly took him in your throat. You moaned against his cock and let him fuck your throat, digging your nails into his thighs.

You were startled when he seized up, grunting as his hot seed shot down your throat. You swallowed it and pulled off of him, wiping your mouth with a proud glint dancing in your eyes.

YangYang let out a pleased little sigh. “Sit on my lap, baby.”

His cooldown was over.

You got up from your spot on the floor and straddled his lap again, but YangYang was wrecked. He saw your eager expression and chuckled, bemused. He unmuted his mic to speak to Hendery but let his fingers dip into your panties, rubbing his slender fingers against your clit in slow circles.

“P-please,” you breathed out, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage.

“Patience, baby,” YangYang cooed in your ear.

“What did you just call me?” Hendery’s dumbfounded voice resounded from the speakers. “Did you say baby?”

“You’re hearing things,” YangYang brushed off while you wanted to die of embarrassment.

“Yo, we did it!” Hendery cheered a minute later while YangYang was still working on your clit. The words victory flashed across the screen in bright blue. “Dude, you wanna play TFT to celebrate?”

“Yeah, no,” YangYang said bluntly, ending the call and tossing his headphones onto his desk so he could turn his attention to you. He ghosted his hands along your sides. “I have my prize right here.”

“YangYang,” you whined out since he left your clit alone before you could finish.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” he mumbled, kissing down the column of your neck. “Let me make it up to you.”

YangYang rubbed your hips in slow circles before removing your shirt carefully, examining your body with hungry eyes. He leaned forward to press kisses from your stomach to your chest, making your heart thunder in your chest. When he reached your chest, his hands slid to the back to unhook your bra. With an easy snap, he unhooked the undergarment and slid the straps down, biting his lip at the sight of you in full glory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, peppering kisses around your nipple and then sucking lightly on the bud.

“YangYang,” you cried out softly.

Your best friend broke away for a moment to open his drawer behind you pulling out a little silver packet. You watched him tear it open and slide the latex around his throbbing cock. How he managed to get it up again was beyond your understanding. After all, horny boys will be horny boys.

He leaned back in his seat, smirking up at you. “Go ahead, baby, fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructed, grabbing his shirt by the nape so he could slide it off, revealing his v-cut abs.

You swallowed hard.

First of all, YangYang was absolutely hung.

Second of all, you had no experience in this field of sexual activity. This was feeling more like paranormal activity because you had no idea how his massive cock was going to fit inside you without rearranging your guts.

“But you’re so… big,” you whispered, looking at his length as he gave it a few pumps.

A soft look crossed YangYang’s face. He picked you up easily, hands gripping your thighs as he laid you on his bed. There was so much care and softness to his touch as he got over you and lined himself with your entrance. The way he looked down at you was full of pure adoration and it made your breath get caught in your throat.

“Ready?” he asked, moving your hair out of your face.

You bit your lip and nodded, bracing yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

You thought he would start, but to your surprise, he pressed his lips to yours, one hand gently cupping your face. You kissed him back fervently, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lost in the taste of his lips, YangYang slowly pushed himself into you, a strangled groan tearing past his lips at how tight you were. You broke from the kiss to tuck your face into his shoulder, crying out as you were stuck in the crossroads of pain and pleasure.

YangYang’s grip on your waist tightened. “Fuck, babygirl.”

“You’re so big,” you replied with a pleased sigh, your hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl into his hair. Your hips shifted a little as your walls adjusted around him.

“Damn right I am,” YangYang replied smugly, starting to thrust in you at a leisurely pace. He slid a hand into your hair and groaned as your walls squeezed around him. “God, your cunt’s so fucking tight.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, flustered by his comment. A moan escaped your lips when he hit a certain spot in you that set you on fire. “R-right there!”

“Nice and vocal,” he cooed, slowing down his pace in favor of deeper thrusts, “just how I like it.” A groan tore past his lips as he fucked you into the mattress. “I want to feel this,” he growled. “I want to feel you.”

Waves of pleasure hit you with each thrust, overwhelming you to the point of tears streaming down your face. He was so big and you could feel him in your lower abdomen, but the pain eased away and you could only feel yourself on the edge of euphoria.

“Shit, YangYang, it feels so good,” you mewled out weakly. “H-harder.”

YangYang grabbed ahold of your legs and moved them over his shoulders while he pinned your hips down. He let out a shaky breath and slammed into you harder, making sure to linger whenever he went as deep as he could. You were a moaning mess by now, holding onto him for dear life as he pounded inside of you.

You were already so close, pre-stimulated from him fingering your clit earlier, and his powerful thrusts were making you lose your grip.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

You nodded weakly, meeting his intense gaze. “I think I’m close,” you told him in a breath.

“Cum for me, angel,” YangYang urged, moving his hand down to rub your clit again as he quickened his pace. “I want to hear you say my name. Who’s making you cum?”

“Y-you, YangYang,” you sobbed, digging your nails into his back. “F-fuck—”

You couldn’t even finish what you were saying, nor did you remember what you were going to say because you fell off the edge first. You broke apart in front of him, crying out in pure bliss as you released against his cock. The pleasure in your gut that was building up had now flooded your body, but YangYang still fucked you through your orgasm until he, too, fell apart.

Sweat beaded your flushed skin, but you only noticed it when YangYang’s forehead was against yours, his breathing slow and heavy. He pulled out of you, using up the little energy he had to toss the used condom in the trash before he trudged back to his bed. He got in next to you and pulled you to his body, enveloping you into his warmth.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he mumbled against your skin.

You were still catching your breath, still winded from your orgasm. Now, YangYang was so tender, so gentle, that you were at a loss for words. It was almost laughable compared to the filthy words that were coming from his mouth early.

You cuddled close to him, wrapping a leg around his hip. “Don’t be,” you said with a smile. “It felt really good.”

YangYang grinned and kissed your forehead, your cheeks, then pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You scrunched up your nose at the contact but he just kissed all over your face.

“I’m glad you felt the same way,” he murmured. “I was starting to get scared that we would just have perpetual tension between us forever.”

“Of course not,” you said with a laugh. “Xiaojun would’ve beat you up if you kept denying anything between us.”

“Well, now I can stop denying it, at least,” he mused, holding up your hand to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles.

“I still can’t believe we did that.”

“I mean,” YangYang started, plastering an easy smile on his face, “I’m always good to go again.”

Needless to say, you ended up taking him up on that offer for a few more rounds.

[aureostuff]

Anger Issues

Brothers with an MC who has anger issues, cusses like a sailor and is also very strong, but is very supportive and caring.

Gender Neutral Reader

Lucifer

He can get quite annoyed with you at times since your outbursts tend to lead you to breaking anything within a five kilometer radius, and that includes his brothers.

He’ll have to lock you up in your room to prevent anything else from breaking. 

Sometimes when you get REALLY angry at him, you’ll end up swearing at him so fucking hard that Satan would literally be cheering you on.

“Lucifer you motherfucking son of a bitch where the FUCK is my Limited-Edition Vinyl Box Set?!” “MC, what did you just call me?”

This man will not accept being called a ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, remember he’s the avatar of pride. He will not take your insult well. It also turns out that he accidentally broke it.

Though you insulted him that badly over your broken Vinyl box set, you still care for him as usual. Scolding him for having a shitty work and sleep schedule. Insisting that he could get more work done rested well. (though you’d prefer if he worked less and spent more time with you)

Mammon

Is fucking scared of you, but also fucking in love with you. He’d even sacrifice the things he’s bought that were so fucking expensive, for you to use it as a stress reliever. 

Story time, when Mammon tried to escape Levi and use you as a sacrifice. You’d literally grab his jackets collar, and said to him. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Are you that scared of some scrawny-ass bitch?”

Sadly, he managed to get away. 

There are cute moments between you two at times. Like how you are literally helping him get over his immense fear of Lucifer and telling him to ‘man up’ and you also encourage him to stand up to the people who bully him, like a real man.

“Listen here Mammon, you gotta stop letting your lil’ brothers bullying you. You are literally the second strongest, act like it! You’ve gotta stop acting like a pussy!”

All I can say is you’re making progress, just very slowly.

Leviathan 

Remember how I said that you called Levi a ‘scrawny-ass bitch’? He was very offended by that, but couldn’t help but accept it as the truth since he is what you’d call a ‘Slim-Jim’

He’ll yell at you, saying that was offensive. And he couldn’t help it since he was a disgusting shut-in Otaku.

“Who the fuck told you you could degrade yourself huh? I see nothing wrong with how you are you fucking dumbass!”

He’ll be crying tears of gratitude, but he’ll quickly wipe them away and get down to business to defeat, the Huns.

He’ll invite you to play video games with him (specifically games like Super Smash Demons) just to see your angered reaction when he wins. He’ll find it amusing and scary at the same time. It was funny to watch the loser rage when you won. And it was scary because unlike the times when he watched the losers rage, the loser, was RIGHT beside him, and could literally put him in the hospital. 

Whenever he calls himself a gross disgusting otaku, etc. you will literally smack him and swear at him very heavily, yelling at him to stop calling himself that. 

Satan

You think the avatar of wrath, ANGER INCARNATE, would get along with you, A LITERAL TICKING TIME BOMB THAT’S ABOUT TO EXPLODE. Well you are sorely mistaken. 

You guys would literally be the best the best of buddies. No doubt about that. You both would go to libraries (and proceed to get kicked out because of how loud you are), go to art museums to admire art. (and proceed to get kicked out because you’re being too loud and disturbing the other people who are trying to admire the art).

He’ll vent to you about his daddy issues problems with Lucifer. And you’ll gladly help him vent out all his pent up anger. “Listen here Satan. The best way to vent your anger is through violence, so if you don’t want to beat somebody to a bloody pulp, now’s your chance to do so.” when you told him that he was like: dude wtf is wrong with you. Then you told him that he could just use a punching bag. 

So yay! He can let out all his anger AND get ripped! Nice. He can use his (soon to arrive) muscles to crack Lucifer’s head open, yipee!!!

Though sometimes you get angry at Satan and vice versa. You two’ll get into fights and the room you two were fighting will be absolutely DEMOLISHED. Satan would be in demon form- no joke, he will be in his fucking demon form. 

You will both be incredibly bloody and beat up, that the brothers wont be able to recognize you. Apart from those ‘small’ fights, you both are very good friends and always look out for each other.

Asmodeus 

He’ll be telling you that being that angry will make you look like an old person, ew! 

Honestly in my opinion, he’ll be the person you’ll complain about your (small) problems to the most. He’ll be painting your nails and you’ll be like: “Dude, Beel ate the fucking food I ordered from Akudonalds! I was fucking starving and Beel just had to come along and eat it.”  “I get what you mean darling, one time Beel ate the limited edition perfume I had bought and was going to use on my date with this hot succubus.” 

Whenever he’ll take a pic with you, you’ll always look angry or be mid-shout in said pic. 

The replies on that photo would fall into one of three categories: a. They’re mainly focusing on Asmo, b. They would be laughing at your face or c. They’d be asking on who the fuck you were.

Asmo would reply to one of the comments in category c telling them: “He’s my significant other ofc~~”

You could always sense whenever he was feeling insecure, so being the good friend you are, you pull up a chair, and have a talk with Asmo.

Beelzebub

Your strong? Well now you’re Beelzebub’s gym buddy yayyyyyy.

Ninety percent of gym equipment is broken since you get a bit too angry, and Lucifer is going to give you one heck of a scolding. 

Beel will eat your food (he’s the avatar of gluttony, what’d you expect), then you’d literally be throwing hands with this giant.

“BEELZEBUUUUUUUUUUUB, HOW DARE YOU EAT THE FOOD I’VE BEEN WAITING TO ARRIVE FOR A LITERAL FUCKING HOUR.”

He’ll feel sorry and try to make it up to you, he’ll give you food, more food, even more food. Till there’s a mountain of his stash of food (plus the food from the fridge) right outside your door, he would literally wait outside your door, starving, as he’s waiting for you to go outside.

When you do go outside, you’ll spot Beel, hugging his knees, most likely asleep. You’ll sigh and grab some of the food on the pile and made your way towards the man. You grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head up. Beel would yawn and blink twice, then he’ll see your face. “MC... I’m sorry about your food...” you sighed. “Don’t worry about it Beel, now eat this shit. I know you’re hungry.”

Belphegor 

When he tried to kill you, your first thoughts were: Aight, time to kick this guy in the family jewels

And that you did. 

Though you still died, so your efforts were all in vain, and then you came back to life. You literally charged at him and pinned him to the ground, shouting profanities as the brothers tried to get you off of him. 

Honestly, you guys really wouldn’t get along that well. If he’s going to try to sleep, one way or another you’re going to stroll in arguing with one of his brothers. You were yelling loudly and swearing a bit too much that it caused Belphie to wake up, which in itself is an impossible achievement since Belphegor could literally sleep through an entire building construction even if it was all happening right beside him.

He’d be pissed that you woke him up, and then you’d forget your previous argument and focus on the one you currently having with the Avatar of Sloth.

He’ll be very happy when he sees you have fights with Lucifer, because nobody in their right mind would dare shout curse words and punch him in the gut, apart from him and Satan of course. When Lucifer locks you up in your room, he’ll make an attempt to help you escape your prison if he’s feeling generous. 

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Ada

Preference Masterlist

Word count: 1257

Warnings: Reader having a hard time, insomnia, swearing, mentions of death and illness

Author's Note: Hi! Everything’s been a bit crap recently, hasn’t it? I’m trying to keep writing as best as I can and I really want to get these preferences done before I take a break since I think we could all use a bit of cheering up and comforting right now! Reblogs are really appreciated. Wishing you all the best, I’m always open to talk to if you need it xx

(Gif by @dailysophierundle or @peakywriting) (I'm not sure but I'll tag you both if that's cool) (This is such a gorgeous gif of Ada, I really need all of you to appreciate this!)

Ada was always loudmouthed and stubborn as the Shelby she denied being. Even in her sleep, she didn't stop. When you lied down next to her in bed, you watched her peaceful expressions slowly morph into the creased brow and open mouth in a look you knew well. Next thing you knew, she was muttering profanities or yelling bloody murder. And maybe her eyes opened sometimes as she tossed and turned whilst monologuing, but you never saw her do anything more than flop around and sleep-talk before falling limp and peaceful again. When you'd moved in with Ada, you'd ha your fair share of warnings from her brothers about how her gob would always be running off, even in sleep. Back then you didn't wonder how everyone knew you two were going to be sleeping in... close proximity to each other but once you finally decided to tell her feared family that you were a couple, they all shrugged in indifference. Well, not indifference, but intelligence- they fucking knew all along! You blamed Polly, who always seemed to know more than she should. Ada blamed Tommy cause, well, it usually was his fault, wasn't it? Both of you were surprised to find out that the snitch was in fact a bashful Finn, who saw you snogging when you thought you were alone. Surprisingly, they took to the idea of you and Ada dating well, with only the playful threat of losing your eyes if you ever dared to hurt her. 

You shuffled yourself closer to her under the covers, trying not to make her stir. It was like tip-toeing around little Karl's door when bedtime had come and gone, that fear of waking someone so sweet whilst asleep. Ada was gorgeous, you knew that from the first moment you saw her. After your first time seeing her asleep, that thought hadn't gone, either. Her short dark hair was all mussed up and in tangles, half of her face lying down her pillow with just a little bit of drool shining on her chin. She cuddled her pillow with the entire top half of her body, shoulders down being covered in a thick duvet. You can take the girl out of a cold, worn down attic, but you can never make the girl forget about the nights that felt like frostbite had taken over and she hovered over Karl's cot to make sure he didn't succumb to the same fate as his father. With the lightest touch, you tucked some of the dark hair back behind her ear, every second awaiting her to suddenly start sitting up and sleepily yell about the revolution. Luckily, she was still, an you marvelled at her pretty face in the darkness like you did most nights. Everything was perfect- from the warmth that radiated out from under the cover you shared to the blissful look she currently wore and the smell of her flowery perfume (and her not so flowery sweat) that overwhelmed your senses. You had never been happier, but still you couldn't be at ease. She always joked that you slept like a soldier, falling asleep long after she had and waking up before the sun sometimes. Of course, it had its perks. Why would she complain if she woke up to a cuppa already brewing in the kitchen? How could she be upset if Karl always had a full stomach if he woke up before she had? And you seemed happy, didn't you? Tired, that was certain, but happy.

She often wanted to stay up and wait for you to sleep, take care of you and watch you in the tranquil slumber you often complimented her about, even threatening to stick matchsticks in her eyes to keep them open. You laughed at her efforts, obviously finding amusement and appreciation in the comical way she glugged a dozen cups of coffee down before bed, and widened her eyes so much you thought you were in bed with an owl. Nevertheless, she always ended up mumbling in her sleep as you looked upon her adoringly. It was too hard to sleep when thoughts and sadness and cold stuck into your mind, the wonderful distraction of your lover not easing the roughest edges in your mind. Ada was a talker. As the only sister amongst her many brothers, she had to learn to keep them all in check somehow. You supposed that made you the thinker, even at your own cost. She made you happy. She made you at ease. But when she fell into unconsciousness, there was no longer an angel to pull you out of the depths of your own head. Your hand moved over the cover, fingers brushing over her side ever so carefully. It might have been that which did it, or the dip of the mattress as you adjusted the position of your head on your pillow.

All of a sudden Ada's eyes flickered open. You froze, waiting for her to start her usual midnight murmuring. She creased her brow and opened her mouth:

"Christ, what the hell are you still doing up?"

Two blasphemies in one sentence. You ought to be impressed, considering the many pictures you'd seen in Watery Lane of your Ada in her Sunday best and a veil.

"Can't sleep, love," you told her, hoping your soothing tone wouldn't make her worry. Your hands rubbed up and down her side, silently conjuring up some hands of fate to drift her back to sleep. She needed it. From working at the library to being a mother and a full-time revolutionary communist, Ada didn't half work herself to death. And that wasn't even considering when her brothers were in London, asking for favours and whatnot.

"Oh, darling!" Her tone was immediately soft and comforting. She let go of her pillow in favour of cuddling you. Now you felt the warmth she radiated directly against your pyjamas, the blanket rolling up as you both shuffled about to get in this new position. With your faces so close, your breathing practically became one as she rested a hand over your cheek. "You really mean the world to me, alright? I'm not sure me and Karl could handle it without you." A giggle; nerves always ended up in strained smiles and little chuckles. "But we don't rely on you, you know. You don't need to keep all this to yourself, you don't need to be constantly vigilant. All you need to do is be there. That's good enough."

You bit your lip, trying to think of how to put to words how lucky you were you had gotten yourself Ada fucking Thorne nee Shelby as your own. There weren't enough words for it, you decided, so instead you'd have to say something else.

"I can't sleep."

Your voice wasn't meant to crack, it was never meant to be this fragile. Not in between the warm sheets and under the cover of darkness. 

"Then I'll keep you company until you can."

You don't fight with Ada, that's what you learnt early on. She'd learnt too much from Polly and was far too accustomed to winning debates. So, all that you really could do was wrap your arms around her waist and nestle your head between the pillow and her chest as she completely surrounding you. Ada stroked your hair softly, wishing she could pull away the nagging thoughts with each little motion. 

For the first time, Ada saw what you looked like sleeping- fucking perfect, that's what she thought.

[weelittleweasley]

Little Lion | Ron x Reader

Prompt as requested by 2 anons: Naturally as a Slytherin, you exude confidence and intimidation. Ron Weasley, on the other hand, not so much. But that’s what made you so attracted to the other, much to everyone else’s surprise. Question is will he muster up the courage to ask you to go to the Yule Ball with him?

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: IMPORTANT NOTE: I know, I know, I know, the Yule Ball is only around for the Triwizard Tournament, but let’s pretend like it doesn’t exist just then!! I wanted to age everyone up to year six and give Ron and opportunity to redeem himself from the robes his mother sent him hehe. I literally am a fucking fiend for Ron Weasley, my love for him should be ILLEGAL. Ron content on here is MINIMAL TO NONE! If anyone has any great fic recs for Ron, PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY. LOOK AT THAT MOTHERFUCKER!! I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

All it took was for you to walk down the hall to get people to look at you and start whispering between each other. It wasn’t a bad thing at all, in fact you quite liked it. You were a confident girl and sometimes that confidence intimidated people. It gave you this sense of power that you liked to use when you needed something out of someone. Not to mention the people you surrounded yourself with in your house were also quite intimidating people, one of them being Draco Malfoy. 

You and Draco were best friends, a dynamic duo of sorts. People thought that you two would end up together, falling madly in love. But Draco was like your brother. He took you under his wing when you got Hogwarts and he was the person who helped you unlock that unfaltering confidence within you. Besides, Draco and you’s personalities clashed too much for it to work with you. You were both dominant, confident, intimidating people; Both of you needed to be in control at all times. Far too similar. 

Instead, you took a liking to people who were more reserved. People who thought before they acted upon their impulses. You needed someone who balanced you out. But someone who could dominate you and keep you at bay when you needed it. Only problem was people like that were scared of you or found you unapproachable. Which you understood, but at the same time, you wished that those people could suck it up and make a move.

As you walked down the hall today, Draco made his way next to you. “We should skip Potions today,” he states as you roll your eyes. Sometimes Draco kept this cool boy act up too much and you knew he was a big softie on the inside and he actually enjoyed school more than he liked to admit. “Seriously. We could ditch Slughorn’s class and hang out in the common room or by the Black Lake,” he tries to tempt you.

“Dray, we’re going to class whether you like it or not,” you speak as you continue to walk to class, Draco groaning when you tell him this. “Slughorn is may be old, but he says valuable things,” you push his shoulder.

The blonde boy just sighs. “I hate when you’re right.”

The both of you walk into Potions class, your face lighting up when you see that your other friends from Slytherin were already in class, awaiting your arrival. You grab a seat with Draco on your right and Pansy on your left. Pansy already starts gossiping about people who you could honestly care less about, but you give her the attention she wants anyway, her being one of your closest girl friends in the school. 

As she blabs on about some poor girl from Hufflepuff that she picked on during lunch, you watch as some Gryffindors enter the classroom, your eyes sticking on the Weasley boy. Ron Weasley was someone who you watched from afar. He was one of those boys who had that boyish charm that made you blush. The ginger was funny, for sure, but he had thoughtful and kind mannerisms that made your heart flutter when you watched him. You picked up on how he would notice when Granger would get distressed and he would offer her a sweet from his backpack that he had stored for occasions like this. You watched how he always packed more than one quill because Potter always managed to forget his. You watched how his eyes widened with fear when Slughorn would talk about how Potions can go wrong quickly, the Weasley boy fearfully concocting his. All of those little ticks made you develop a little crush on him after months of watching him.

Ron sat down in his typical seat next to Hermione and Harry, but he could feel a set of eyes on him from the moment he walked into the classroom. “Is she looking at me?” he nervously asks Harry. 

Harry glances over in your direction, watching that your eyes were glued on Potter’s best friend. When you notice Harry looking at you, you quickly turn away and pay attention to Pansy who continues to ramble. “She was,” Harry reports back. Ron nervously groans. “Oh come on, maybe she has a crush on you.”

“I highly doubt it. I bet she’s planning how to rip my heart out of my chest and then serve it to Malfoy on a silver platter,” his voice cracks. “She scares me.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, “Oh, please, Ronald. Just because the girl is confident and knows what she wants doesn’t make her scary; it makes her smart. I don’t know why she would have a crush on someone like you.”

Ron just looks at Hermione. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he exclaims.

With a huff, Hermione turns to Ron and Harry. “It means I’m surprised that she doesn’t have a crush on someone like Draco or Blaise Zabini. She likes someone like you, Ronald. Merlin, I didn’t think I would have to spell it out for you,” she turns back to the board, ready to start class. 

Your conversation with Pansy is interrupted when Professor Slughorn appear in front of the classroom and starts class, telling you to get into pairs. You turn to Draco, who was always your partner, Pansy with Blaise, Crabbe with Goyle. Everyone in the class regardless of their houses worked with the same people. Slughorn notices this and asks, “How about we switch it up and work with different people?” This earns a chorus of groans from the class. “I’m glad all of you are so eager to work with each other,” he says sarcastically. “I’ll assign the partners.” This earns more groans from the class.

Slughorn starts to pair people up with each other. You start to think that Slughorn is trying to make drama in the class when he starts. “Parkinson and Potter,” he announces.

“You’re bloody joking,” Pansy huffs making you laugh with Draco, making Pansy turn beet red. She grabs her things and moves to a work table in the back of the classroom. 

Slughorn continues to rattle off names of unlikely duos. “Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy,” Slughorn continues as you have to stifle your laugher and Draco whispers multiple profanities, slapping your shoulder, him grabbing his things in a huff. Hermione was definitely not happy about this pairing either as she has a scared look on her face as she looks at Ron before she moves to the back tables. “Miss (Y/L/N) and Mr. Weasley,” Slughorn announces.

Your heart quite literally stops and Ron looks like a deer in headlights. You did not expect this pair to happen. You can hear Draco cackling in the back of the classroom as you whip your head around. “Shut it, you nitwit,” you spit at him as he continues to laugh. You grab all of your belongings and make your way to a back table as Ron follows. Draco is still laughing, so you waste no time, slapping him upside the head, him letting out an ow! as you do so. “Bloody moron,” you huff at him before plopping down at a table with a shy Ron next to you. It is awkward. 

Slughorn calls out the last few partners before giving you the assignment for the  day. After he finished speaking, the class is silent for a long beat before the small chatter beings. You turn to Ron and offer him a small smile which he nervously reciprocate. The poor bloke is afraid of me, you think too yourself. “-so-”

“-um-”

The both of you talk at the same time. “You go,” you insist to Ron.

He shakes his head. “No, no, go ahead, I don’t even know what I was going to say, something stupid probably,” he tells you. His comment makes you lightly laugh. You suggest how you should start the task given. “Yep, much smarter than what I was going to say.”

You laugh again, “I’m sure what you were going to say was not stupid, Ron.” You had him a few vials of liquids needed to craft this potion. He carefully takes them from your hands and you notice how he actively avoids touching his hands against yours as if they were poison. Your heart kind of sinks at this. Were you that intimidating to him? You start, “You know,” you grab a pair of gloves, “I don’t bite. I know other people in the school say otherwise, but I’m not that bad.”

Ron gives you a genuine smile and laughs, looking down as his feet. “I’m sure you don’t,” he tells you as you blush lightly. “I guess pretty girls scare me.” Your heart rate picks up at the compliment, gulping a little bit, not making eye contact, too scare to. This was so unlike yourself. Ron clears his throat, “Anyway, let’s start, shall we?”

Within thirty minutes, you and Ron have completed all of the assignments for today’s class. You still had thirty minutes left of class, but Slughorn comes over. “Everything looks right to me!” he exclaims with excitement. “Well done, Miss (Y/L/N) and Mr. Weasley! Since you’ve completed your work, I can dismiss you early from class!” 

“What? That’s rubbish!” yells Draco from the other side of the room. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing your things and thanking Slughorn for the great class. 

You and Ron exit the class. “Job well done, indeed,” you laugh as you nudge Ron’s shoulder as he laughs. The two of you walk side by side down the hall. “Um, well, I guess I’ll see you around, Weasley.”

Starting to walk in the opposite direction, you hear Ron call, “Wait! Uh...” You turn around to see Ron behind you. “I have nothing to do for the rest of the day, and I was, um, do you wanna hang out by the Black Lake? I had snacks that I stole from the kitchen this morning.”

You cannot prevent the smile that forms across your lips. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Ron’s lips form a cheeky grin. “Wicked.”

The two of you made your way to the Black Lake, making small talk here and there until you reached your destination. The both of you sat side by side on the grass as Ron handed you a bag of crisps from his backpack as you thank him for the snack. “So,” he starts, “this might be a weird question, but...why are you friends with people like Malfoy and Parkinson?”

You smile and lightly laugh at the question. “Draco and I are like siblings. He’s the brother I never had. When I got to Hogwarts, as hard as it may be to believe, I was really shy. I didn’t talk to many people and he took me under his wing. He helped me find my voice. I owe that to him. But that’s all that Draco and I are. Friends,” you stress, trying to express that you and Draco’s relationship was simply platonic. Ron nods. “Pansy on the other hand, she and I became friends because of Draco, but to be honest, she annoys me more than she does entertain me.”

This makes Ron laugh. “I thought I was the only one who found her dreadful,” he chuckles.

“What about you? Why are you friends with Harry and Hermione?” you ask him before munching on a chip.

Ron takes a deep breath in. “Like you said, Harry’s my brother. He gets me into deep shit, but he’s my brother.” You laugh at his passing joke, Ron looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “But seriously, Harry and I met on the train to Hogwarts. He and I have been inseparable since. Hermione, on the other hand, butt her way into Harry and I’s friendship. Again, she gets me into some deep shit, too, but here I am...The two of them are much braver than I am though, so I don’t quite understand why they think I’m a good addition to this team.”

You nudge his shoulder. “I disagree with that,” you speak truthfully. “You’re a Gryffindor! You’re like a lion,” you shimmy your shoulders, making him laugh.

“A little lion,” he retorts. 

“More of a lion than I am,” you counter, making him blush.

-------

More classes like this came along. You and Ron partnered up and finished your assignment for the day early, escaping class to hang out by the lake, eat snacks, and clown around. The more time you spent with Ron, the more comfortable you were with each other. But most of your interactions were limited to Potions class and your Blake Lake encounters. Other than that, you hung out with different people, spend your free time doing different things. This made you both cherish your private moments more. 

You sat by the Black Lake today, eating biscuits that your mom sent in a parcel to you. As you munched, you spoke, “The Yule Ball is coming up.” The mention of the Yule Ball makes the both of you tense. Neither of you had dates yet and you both secretly hoped the other wanted to go with each other. “You reckon you know who you want to ask?”

Ron munches on his biscuit quietly before swallowing. “Not really,” he lies through his teeth. I want to take you, Ron thinks. “What about you?” You shake your head no. I want to go with you, you think. “I’m sure you’ll have someone ask you, (Y/N). How could you not get a date? Look at you,” he tells you as you blush. 

You wanted to scream at him to ask you. That you wanted him to take you to the Yule Ball so you didn’t have to go with someone like Crabbe or Goyle. But you don’t. You just sit and finish your biscuit. “I think I’m gonna head back,” you confess, not really wanting to stay any longer with Ron no matter how much you actually wanted to capitalize on your time with him. 

As you rise, Ron watches you gather your things. You bloody idiot, just say it, he thinks to himself. Mustering up all of the confidence he has, Ron stands up and stops you. “(Y/N)?” he asks, stopping you from walking away from him. You look at the Weasley, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Ron takes a deep breath in and then says, “Go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Your heart flutters and the biggest smile appears on your face followed by beet red cheeks. Ron stares at you, relishing in how beautiful you look in this moment with kind eyes and rosy cheeks. “Okay. Yes,” you shake your head, making Ron smile wide.

“Brilliant,” he whispers, picking up his bag, walking back to the castle with you. “I’m glad you said yes.”

Nudging his shoulder, you tease, “Well, you didn’t make it a question, little lion.” Ron chuckles. “I would have said yes either way,” you admit.

-----

The Yule Ball rolled around and you were ball of nerves and excitement. You couldn’t wait to just go downstairs and see Ron and spend the evening with him. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing your hands over the satin crimson fabric of your dress. You smiled to yourself, you chose this dress mostly because of how beautiful it was, but also knowing it was the colors of Gryffindor. You wanted everyone to know who you were at the dance with. You were wearing these colors with pride tonight. 

Before you made your way to the ball, you met up with Draco. “Wow,” he claps as you walk towards him, you rolling your eyes. “You look stunning,” Draco tells you as you smile.

“You look fine,” you shrug as Draco teasingly slapping your shoulder. “I’m kidding, Malfoy, you look great.”

Draco offers you his arm as you both make your way to the hall where the Ball was. “I never asked you,” Draco says, “who was the lucky bloke who asked you?”

As you turn the corner to the hall, there Ron was, dressed in a black suit with a jacket that was a smidge too big on him. Probably a hand-me-down from Fred or George. Regardless, Ron looked handsome as ever. Your heart thumped out of your chest when you saw him. “Him,” you whisper breathlessly. 

Draco chuckles at first because he thinks you’re kidding. “You’re going with a Weasley?” he asks in disbelief. You ignore his snide comment, disjoining you from Draco, and you walk over to Ron. Draco turns to Zabini, “Did you know she was going with Weasley?” Zabini shakes his head. “What has gotten into her?”

Ron feels as if he may faint. You looked absolutely breathtaking in your dress of crimson, hair perfectly falling to frame your face. He felt like a fish out of water in his older brother’s old suit, but his thoughts were pushed aside when you approached him. “You are gorgeous,” he blurts, making you blush. “I can’t believe you’re my date,” he lightly laughs, grabbing your hand. “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

Smiling at the boy in front of you, you squeeze his hand. “I can’t believe you’re my date,” you confess. “I have the kindest, handsomest boy as my date to the Yule Ball.” Ron blushes a deep shade of red, almost matching your dress. “You want to go in, lion?” you call him his nickname. Ron nods and guides you inside to the ball. 

-----

The Yule Ball was fun for the first hour and a half. But soon enough you grew tired of dancing and jumping around. Ron looked over at you and spoke over the music, “You wanna get out of here?” You don’t even have to answer him, you just grab his hand and start making your way out. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. 

When you are outside of the hall, Ron tells you, “Give me one minute. I need to grab something from my room before we go. I’ll be right back.”

You watch him leave, a big smile on your face as you smooth out the material of your dress. This night felt nothing short of magical. Ron was a gentleman, making you laugh, dancing with you the whole night, making sure you were comfortable. He was perfect.

“You went to the ball with Weasley? (Y/N), you can do so much better,” Pansy laughs from behind you. “He’s a complete git.” Anger starts to rise in your chest. “You really could have anyone in this school and you chose the man who wears his brothers’ old clothes. He can barely stand up for himself, he has to let Granger fight his battles for him.”

“Will you shut it, Parkinson?” you snap. “Just because Draco didn’t ask you to the Yule Ball doesn’t mean you have to pick on everyone else’s dates because you are unhappy that you had to settle for Goyle. It’s not my fault that you get upset when people are happier than you. So how about this? Keep your opinions to yourself, because I can assure you no one wants to hear them. Not me, not Draco, no one.” Pansy’s face turns sheet white. “I like Ron. I think he’s brilliant. And I’m going to enjoy my night with him.”

The silence between you is deafening when you finish. Pansy just stares at you as you catch your breath from yelling at her. You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Spinning around, you see Ron behind you. You wished you could feel embarrassed right now, but you don’t. You just grab his hand and leave a shocked Pansy behind. “Merlin, remind me not to make you angry,” Ron diffuses the situation, brilliantly. You laugh at him before intertwining your fingers, leaving the Ball behind and escaping to your signature spot.

Draco leaves the hall and sees you leaving with Ron, hands clasped together. “Can you believe her?” Pansy asks Draco.

Draco just looks at Pansy. “I don’t care who she’s with. As long as she’s happy and they make her happy. That’s all you should care about too,” he speaks before walking away from Pansy with Crabbe and Goyle not too far behind him.

Soon, you and Ron arrive to Black Lake and sit beside each other on the grass in your ball attire, not caring if it gets dirty at this point. You look out at the lake as it shimmers in the moonlight. The night was beautiful. Just chilly. Ron immediately notices you shiver and without hesitation, he takes off his suit jacket and places it over your shoulders. “You don’t have to,” you insist.

“Yes, I do. Don’t want you to get sick now, do we?” Ron smiles at you, wrapping an arm behind you carefully as you lean into him. 

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, you resting your head on his shoulder as he lays his head on yours. “What did you have to grab from your room?” you curiously ask him. 

You can feel Ron smile against your hair. “Reach into my jacket pocket. The left one.” You do so and pull out a small red rose. Its petals were lightly crushed from being pushed into his suit jacket pocket. You look up at Ron, eyebrows furrowed as if to say what’s this all about? “I wanted to get you a whole bouquet, but they wouldn’t have fit in my pocket,” he jokes as you laugh. “I like you, (Y/N). A lot. I like spending time with you and being around you. You make me happy. So, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend?” 

His confidence is palpable. You’d been rubbing off on him. He must have been rubbing off on you because there is a deep shade of red on your cheeks, you feel almost unable to speak. You finally find the words and say, “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Weasley.”

Ron smiles big and just gawks at you. “You’re my girlfriend now?”

“I’m your girlfriend,” you repeat as he laughs. “And you’re my little lion now.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment before he speaks, “I’m going to kiss you...if that’s okay.” You nod your head and close the gap in between you two. The kiss is gentle and his lips are soft against yours. He kisses you like he is afraid of breaking you. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you in closer. You smile lightly into the kiss before pulling away slowly. “Bloody hell,” he whispers, inches from your face. “I’m so glad that this went better than I expected,” he admits as you laugh at your boyfriend.

[sunflowershouto]

when mineta hits on their crush - bakugou, kaminari, kirishima

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Thank you for the request, darling! I love jealous headcanons so these are definitely fun for me to write! If anyone wants to see this headcanon with other characters, lmk! <3

My requests are open!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Headcanon of Bakugou, Kaminari, and Kirishima reacting to Mineta creeping on their crush.

𝐛 𝐚 𝐤 𝐮 𝐠 𝐨 𝐮

✧ Bakugou usually ignores Mineta when he’s like this. Paying attention to some sad little creep is a waste of time, and frankly he doesn’t usually care to stop his classmate’s behavior.

✧ Despite that, when Mineta starts talking about L/N, Katsuki finds himself listening quite closely, an irritated grimace on his face as the stupid grape-head rambles on about how he’d like to see her in the girl’s locker room.

✧ He sits near you in class, and just as you’re about to spin-kick Mineta into orbit, you hear Bakugou scoff, his glare directed right at Mineta. His expression is much harsher than usual, but it looks like he’s trying to play it ‘cool.’

✧ “Oi. Do you know how pathetic it is for you to be drooling after someone so far out of your league?”

✧ You’re kind of shocked. Sure, he’s more going after Mineta than complimenting you, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to get involved at all. You’re confused as to why he suddenly intervened, and you feel like you’re watching tennis as your head turns back and forth between the two.

✧ Mineta sputters out some excuse about how beauty needs to be admired, his usual creepy speech about how he’s merely a misunderstood appreciator of the female figure. Gag.

✧ Before you can get a word in, Bakugou cuts in again.

✧ “I’m sure her boyfriend would beat your wimpy little ass for saying that!”

✧ “My who?!”

✧ “L/N has a boyfriend?” Now it’s Kaminari chiming in, both disappointed and surprised. “Damn!”

✧ “Yeah, as a matter of fact, she does! And it’s not gonna be some damn extra like one of you!”

✧ Most of your classmates are now huddled around Katsuki’s desk, prying to hear the name of the mysterious boyfriend that you didn’t know you had. You’re just dumbfounded, staring speechless at Bakugou and wondering where the hell he was going with all of this.

✧ They’re all nagging him now, eyes wide as they asked how he knew, and who he was.

✧ You know exactly what he’s gonna do as soon as you see that stupid smug grin cross his face. “Bakugou, don’t you da-”

✧ “It’s ME! Now will all of you losers go back to minding your own business?!”

✧ Before anyone can react you’re dragging him by the ear out of the classroom, marching him down the hallway and ignoring his profane protests. You start interrogating him as soon as you’re alone, asking him what the hell was wrong with him, why he’d tell your entire class a lie that was obviously not true.

✧ Bakugou, as Bakugou does, gets angry and tells you that he was doing you a favor, and that you were lucky to even be associated with him like that. He expects a thank you, because now Mineta will leave you alone.

✧ He’s going on a whole angry rant about how he only did it to shut the kid up. HE IS SO SMUG.

✧ You cut him off with a kiss, and when you pull away, now it’s him asking you what your deal is.

✧ “I thought you were my boyfriend?” you remind him, blinking innocently. “Saturday. Pick me up at six, and don’t be late.” You walk away before he can really respond, and he starts yelling at you to ‘get back here right now!’

✧ Sure enough, 6PM on Saturday, he shows up outside your house.

𝐤 𝐚 𝐦 𝐢 𝐧 𝐚 𝐫 𝐢

ϟ Kaminari and Mineta will occasionally scheme together, but not this time.

ϟ Denki has never really been interested in creeping on L/N the way Mineta has, and honestly sometimes he wants to electrocute his classmate just for looking at her.

ϟ It’s between lectures, and Aizawa isn’t in the room, so things are a chaotic mess, as per usual. Mineta is being Mineta and Kaminari is getting increasingly more irritated.

ϟ Mineta makes some weird crack about how he wants L/N all to himself, and Denki snaps.

ϟ You’re on the other side of the room, and Kaminari walks over to you, making sure that Mineta is watching before turning to you.

ϟ “Hey, L/N.” He’s clearly nervous out of his mind, and Jirou and Momo, who you had been talking to, are staring. His internal thoughts sound something like ‘WhatAmIDoingWhatAmIDoingWhatAmIDoing.’

ϟ “Come with me to the arcade later. I’ll pick you up.”

ϟ  ?????? THIS WAS NOT PART OF THE PLAN. THERE WAS NO PLAN.

ϟ “Uh. . . Okay?” you laugh, face heating up slightly as you looked up at him. No big deal, your crush just asked you to go out somewhere with him. This is fine.

ϟ She said yes?!?!?

ϟ “Sweet! Then it’s a date!” he cheers, a grin spreading across his face. Part of him is exploding because he just scored a date with the hottest girl in Class 1-A. The other part of him is gloating over the fact that he just schooled Mineta.

ϟ  “Right! A date,” you echoed, smiling as your blush deepened.

ϟ  What you weren’t expecting was for him to lean over and kiss you before returning to his desk, his hands resting on his head.

ϟ  “WHAT WAS THAT?!” Mineta is completely dumbfounded and on the verge of tears. “Not! Fair! How long. . . How long have you been hiding this!”

ϟ “What can I say?” Denki laughed, acting as though he’d been confident and aloof the whole time. “Guess I’m just a catch.”

ϟ Mineta ever speaking about you again is sure to get him zapped, if you don’t manage to do something about it first.

ϟ No one except you and Denki (and Jirou, who totally figured it out by herself) know that you hadn’t really been dating.

ϟ To this day, the memory of that day still haunts Mineta.

𝐤 𝐢 𝐫 𝐢 𝐬 𝐡 𝐢 𝐦 𝐚

♢ Eijirou already thinks Mineta’s whole shtick is pretty deplorable, so when it comes to Y/N, he’s always been a little extra touchy.

♢ Kirishima is a softie, but he’s not super great about expressing his feelings, so when anyone asks why he’s so specifically bothered by Mineta harassing you specifically, he defends himself by saying that the manly thing to do is to stand up to him.

♢ You’ve always sort of had a thing for Kirishima. After all, he always goes out of his way for you, whether Mineta is involved or not.

♢  Eijirou is practically your best friend, so you’re around each other more often than not, meaning that when Mineta is harassing you, Kirishima is most likely around to hear it.

♢ Most of the time he trusts that you can handle it yourself, it’s one of the things he likes about you. But sometimes, when Mineta goes too far, he steps in and makes sure to put the little scoundrel in his place.

♢ Today, it went too far.

♢ Usually, Mineta just stuck to words, and by now you’d learn how to deflect it. Today, though, was one of the few instances where Mineta just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

♢ Your costume had been torn during training; it was nothing too scandalous, just your midriff had been revealed.

♢ Of course it was enough to make the grape-head lose his mind. He was all over you, and you were struggling to shove him off.

♢ “HEY.”

♢ You’re relieved to hear Kirishima’s voice, and soon Mineta is torn off of you and thrown harshly to the side, where Eijirou starts to yell at him.

♢ “What are you all bent out of shape about? Not like L/N is your girl or anything!” Mineta’s grating little voice argues.

♢ “As a matter of fact, she is. And even if she wasn’t, a real man would have helped her out anyway, you little creep!”

♢ You’re watching, somewhat shocked. Had Eijirou just called you his girl? Had he meant it?

♢ Mineta storms off in a jealous rage, and Kirishima smiles when he turns to you. “You good?”

♢ You nod, unsure of how to approach it. He barely even seemed like he’d remembered what he said. When you try to bring it up, he initially waves it off, but both of you know there’s definitely something more there.

♢ You ask him to meet you after school, and you’re impatiently watching the clock all day.

♢ You meet up in front of campus, and you start to ramble, not really sure what you’re saying but just trying to clear up whatever had happened.

♢ Kirishima cuts you off by pulling you close to him, his hand is on the side of your face. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase, ‘kay?”

♢ You’re dating from then on out, and literally none of your classmates are surprised.

//

[angelikook]

Pas de Deux

Pairing(s): Dance teacher!Hoseok x reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: 6.7k

Warning(s): Profanity

Summary: Your dance teacher, Hoseok, might teach you a bit more than just dancing.

A/n Moral of the story, never seek validation from anyone. You can do whatever you want as long as you're happy and you're not doing anything wrong.

There will be a mention about Blue Side and its meanings. Check this link for the complete analysis (it's in Indonesian). Shout out to the writer for the in-depth analysis.

There were days when you wished you were more flexible. Or athletic. Or both.

Like today for instance.

Your weekly Friday-night private dance class didn’t look too good as usual. First of all, you had a literal dance God stood in front of you as your dance teacher. In front of him, you looked like a baby giraffe learning how to stand on four wobbly legs.

During the past few months you’ve been his student, through ups and downs that had more downs, his smile never faltered, his energy never died out, and his patience never ran out.

Every time you fell on your bruising butt, he only held out his hand to you and put on that million-dollar smile of his. Sometimes- Scratch that- Most of the times, you felt bad when you fell for the nth time in the span of an hour. Other times, you felt bad after your first fall. You definitely didn’t want him to think you were unworthy of his time and attention. That was the worst way a person can embarrass themself.

Your teacher, who went with the name Hoseok, and stage name j-hope, once again danced real slow in hope you could follow him. You both moved at a snail’s pace, but of course, your lack of athleticism wouldn’t let you go for 10 minutes without falling.

Out of nowhere, one of your feet caught up in the other one and made you stumble. And with that, your body unceremoniously collapsed. It was like any other times you had fallen, but unlike those times, you heard a loud crack coming from your foot.

“Oh, shit! Are you alright?” Hoseok stopped instantly and squatted beside you. “Of course you’re not fine. Why did I even ask that?” He mumbled more to himself.

“Which foot was fractured? Can you try moving them?”

You, ever so carefully, tried to move each of your feet. Weirdly enough, you were pretty sure your left one was the one fractured, but you felt a sharp pain when you moved your right one.

You voiced your thoughts, “Umm… I’m not sure which one is fractured. I think it’s the left one, but the right one is more painful.”

Hoseok sighed. “We need to go to the hospital. Here, let me carry you.”

“Wait, I-”

Like you weighed nothing, he heaved you and carried you bridal style. Instinctively, you circled your arms around his neck, his very sweaty and veiny neck. But during this critical moment, a sweaty neck wasn’t on the top of your priorities.

“I don’t think this is necessary,” you said even though the pain on your feet had subsided a bit from being lifted off the ground.

“Absolutely.” He grabbed your bag and turned off the lights. “It would be better if we can use the stretcher, but since I’m alone, we have to settle with this. Sorry if this is uncomfortable.” He walked out of the studio and locked it before walking off to the parking lot.

You estimated that the entire walk from the studio to the parking lot must’ve taken around 10 minutes. At this point, you were 100% sure you felt like a dead weight for him. Yet, he still kept walking while holding you as if it was nothing. It was either you overestimated your weight, or he was stronger than you thought. Your bet was on the second one.

During the ride to the hospital, you racked your brain for a way to say thank you while actually sounding like you were grateful instead of just for formality. But after minutes had passed, you came up with nothing so you just settled with the old “thank you so much”. You just prayed he could see your sincerity through you.

“Don’t mention it. This is what I always do every time someone is injured.”

True to his words, when he entered the emergency room with you in his arms, a nurse yelled his name and directed you two to an empty bed.

“What happened?” the nurse asked as Hoseok carefully lowered you on the bed.

In an instant, the comforting heat radiating off of him disappeared. In exchange for his warmth, you felt the cold mattress and the typical freezing hospital room.

“The usual. But she said that both her feet hurt.” He gestured to you.

“I’m going to call a doctor, okay?” Without waiting for an answer from you, the nurse left.

Once the doctor came, you explained in detail what happened with Hoseok butting in sometimes to add completely unnecessary details. He said things like, “we were almost done with the class”, or, “we were alone there.” Lucky for him, your pain stopped you from wanting to strangle him.

You talked more about possible treatments, how long it would take, and most importantly, how much it would cost. In the end, it was decided that you needed an x-ray.

“You can leave now if you want. I’ll be alright,” you told him right after the doctor told you to wait for the x-ray. The guilt of making him do all of these was starting to eat you inside out.

You had felt guilty from falling multiple times, and now you fell to the point you broke your ankle. If it was possible, you felt ten thousand times more guilty. And the fact that he wasn’t even complaining at least once made you feel like a disappointment.

Maybe it was better if the earth swallowed you whole right now.

He shook his head as he sat on the chair beside the bed. “No way. How will you get home?”

Crap, he was right. There was no way you could walk by yourself after all this. Or call a taxi. Just imagining you had to wear a cast and a crutch already made you shudder. This was going to be a long month, or months, for you.

“You must feel tired now. You’ve been here for-” You glanced at the clock behind his head. “-around an hour now.”

“Do you have a friend you can call over?”

The question hit you more than it should’ve. Your friends, the same people who indirectly forced you to try dancing, all lived across the city. You knew there was no way they would be willing to spend their Friday night at the hospital with you. In your mind, you could already imagine them going out on a fancy dinner, cuddling with their partner, or watching a movie.

Your lack of response was an answer in itself.

“It’s okay. I don’t have anything to do anyways.”

“You don’t have any more students? Tonight? Tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “You’re my last student for the week.” He stopped for a while before continuing, “And my most interesting one.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Interesting? How?”

“You made me think of… things, basically, clearly.”

“Like what?”

He took a deep breath before answering, “I’ve been the best dancer, performer, whatever you wanna call it. And after I started teaching too, I became the best dance teacher in the city. Like, you must’ve already known that from the tariffs of my classes.”

You nodded.

“But since you came to my class a few months ago, things have changed. I just lost… my confidence in my teaching. Maybe my methods are wrong or I need a different approach or maybe-” His words caught in his throat. “-I don’t cut it to be a teacher.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He had mistaken your inability to do athletic stuff for his bad teaching.

“I think you got it all wrong,” you said urgently.

You didn’t want him to think he was a bad teacher. He was, in fact, far from that. So far, you’ve never met a teacher even half as nice as him or half as understanding as him.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “How?”

You hesitated for a moment. Were you really going to out yourself? Your heart screamed, “yes!” at that.

“Well, you see, I’m not the best at, you know, physical stuff. I was actually setting myself up for failure by trying out dancing.” You saw him frowning even further. You let out a nervous giggle. This was a bad idea, but you were already in too deep anyways. “I know this is confusing. My friends have told me that a lot of times.”

A few seconds of silence passed. Hoseok just stared at you, probably trying to figure you out, who knew. You were just weird like that.

Finally he broke the silence. “Can you drive?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“Driving?”

“Of course I can.” You looked down on your injured feet. “Well, not for a while, I guess.”

“And I take it you never accidentally kill someone, right? Or else you wouldn’t be here, you’d be in jail.”

This time, you were the one frowning. Where was this conversation heading? Nonetheless, you nodded your head, answering his question silently.

He, for the first time after you broke your ankle, broke into a grin. “Then you’ll be fine. And I don’t think you set yourself up for failure.” He pouted. “Don’t ever say that again.”

You smiled back at him. “Okay.”

A few moments later, you were called to do an x-ray.

Wordlessly, Hoseok hoisted you up and put you on a wheelchair he found nearby. With that, he pushed you towards the x-ray room. You weren't going to lie for the fact that it kinda felt nice to be pushed by a handsome guy. On the other side, it only made you feel even more guilty.

Once you arrived in front of said room, a nurse took you in and told Hoseok to wait outside.

With your clumsiness, this obviously wasn’t your first time getting x-rayed. So you didn’t really feel nervous, not at all. Plus, you were significantly older than the last time you got x-rayed. There was nothing to be scared of, right?

Who were you kidding? Of course you’d be scared. Your heart thumped loudly against your chest, you wondered if the nurse could hear it. Probably she could, but even if she could, she didn’t say anything.

Okay, then. Maybe you should focus on something else. What about something to tell Hoseok about his fear? You didn’t do a great job of comforting him. Instead, he was the one comforting you. The hell was that about, Y/n?

Without you even realizing, since you were so focused on Hoseok’s fear, the x-ray was over and you were pushed out of the room. Phew… Wasn’t that easy? But you still haven’t thought of something to tell Hoseok, though. Nevermind, you’d probably be better off improvising.

Hoseok sat on the long bench in front of the x-ray room with a small plastic bag in his hand. You were sure he didn’t have that before. Beside him, sat the nurse who accepted you into the emergency room who now was talking animatedly to him.

For the first time since you entered the hospital, you got the chance to take a good look at the nurse.

Her outfit hugged her curves perfectly, no weird bumps or creases. It was as if the fit was tailored just for her. Her hair was up and away from her face in a tight and neat bun. Her makeup faded here and there from the long hours of working, no surprise there. And her glasses only complemented her whole look, making her look beautiful yet strong at the same time.

Looking at her made you wonder about how you looked in comparison.

You were still in your work out clothes that you designated for dancing. They were saggy in weird places as a sign of old age and definitely had been left forgotten in your wardrobe for a long time because you didn’t work out. The leather in your shoes also flaked in some places, indicating that you needed to buy a new pair. You knew not to buy them, though, remembering you weren’t athletic.

As you looked down on your clothes, you realized there was a giant blob of sauce stain just in between your boobs. Where- What? How did you get that? And why hadn’t you realized it until now?

You abruptly stopped yourself from self pity as the nurse pushed you closer to them. If you didn't have beauty or grace or sexiness, at least you had confidence.

The nurse Hoseok was talking to was the first to notice your arrival.

She stood up and asked you, “Are you alright? Do you need a painkiller?”

She was nice, too. No wonder Hoseok would be interested in her.

For a second you imagined what it felt like for someone to be interested in you. You haven’t felt that in a long time. Not that you missed the feeling, you were content with being single and had no intention to date anyone. At least not while your ankles still hurt.

You shook your head. “It’s not that painful.” You turned to the nurse who pushed your wheelchair. “When will the result come out?”

“In a few minutes. For now, you can wait here or in the emergency room.”

You looked at Hoseok, expecting him to answer for you.

He immediately took the cue. “We’ll wait here. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll direct you to the doctor’s office once the results are out.”

You mumbled a “thank you” before the nurse left.

The other nurse, who talked to Hoseok earlier, though, didn’t leave as much as you wanted her to. Instead, she sat back beside him and continued the conversation like nothing happened. Like you weren’t even there.

“When I get off my shift later, do you want to grab supper?” she asked while batting her thick lashes. Were nurses allowed to wear fake lashes, you wondered.

Just like the Hoseok you knew, he turned down the offer politely. “Sorry, I don’t really eat supper.”

She pouted in an attempt to look cute. But honestly, with the makeup and sexy clothes, her cuteness was uncalled for.

Gosh you wished you were as sexy or pretty as her, surely you could get any man you want. Nope, you were still happy with being single.

“What about tomorrow? I get bored on Saturdays.”

“I-” His eyes flicked around the room. “I need to check my schedule first.”

Her face lit up. “Text me, okay?” And just like how she didn’t wait for your answer earlier, she left without waiting for his.

You grimaced at their awkward conversation. “She seems… nice.” It came out more like a question.

He exhaled long and hard as if he held his breath the entire time. “And too much.”

“What-?” you sputtered. “She was blatantly asking you out.”

“Yeah, I know that. That’s why she’s too much.”

A question crossed your mind. “Have you known each other for a long time?”

“Not really. But since the number of my students blew up, injuries became more common, so...”

“Oh.” You nodded understandingly.

You suddenly remembered that you had to comfort him.

“You’re actually a great teacher, you know. At least that’s the review from Google. You have 4.8 stars! That’s awesome.” At this point you just blurted out anything nice to him. “My favorite restaurant only has 3.6 stars.” And by anything, you meant everything.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Thanks?"

“No problem.”

“What about you, though? What do you think of my teaching skills?”

Once again, his questions caught you off guard.

It was still fresh in your mind about the day you signed up for a class with him. How he answered all your questions with his smile never leaving his face. The day of your first class with him, he explained the basics with so much patience. He never said no whenever you asked him to show the moves again and again and again. And today, he took you to the hospital and even waited with you through all the procedures.

He was an extraordinary teacher. And person.

But there was no way you could say all that. It would only embarrass you more.

“I think you’re… nice.”

He furrowed his eyebrows deeper at your words. He surely would get wrinkles early if he kept frowning like that. And that would be so bad for his handsome face.

Okay, maybe it was better if you said all that in the first place.

“I mean,” you spoke up again, trying to redeem yourself. “You’re the best teacher I’ve ever met. You’re nice, understanding, and patient. Something I rarely see in other teachers.” And handsome, you wanted to add, but it was a story for another day.

He finally no longer furrowed his eyebrows.

“May I ask you a question?” he asked quietly.

Another question from him wouldn't hurt, right? “Sure.”

“Why did you decide to try dancing if you knew you weren’t good with ‘physical stuff’?” He did the airquote thing. “Sorry if it’s too personal.”

“No, it’s alright.” You chuckled. “Remember the friends that kept telling me I’m clumsy?”

He nodded.

“Well, they were kinda the reason.”

“Okay…”

You took a deep inhale. “We’ve been friends since the third grade of primary school. We’re basically inseparable. But as close as we are, we have different lives.”

“I understand.”

“One is an athlete. She’s a swimmer and takes part in a lot of national championships. The second one is not as athletic, but she does golf in her free time. She’s extremely good, though. The last one is a pole dancer and she really takes pride in it. So far, I’m the only one who doesn’t really do physical things. In fact, I’m not into physical activities at all.”

“That’s alright. Everyone is different. What do you do?”

“I loved studying.”

“Loved?”

You took multiple deep breaths to prepare yourself to come with the truth. “They always make fun of me for liking reading over physical activities. Until one point I can’t even look at books anymore.” You bit your bottom lip. “They even made a different pact and left me out.”

Books were an important part of your life. And reading was the only time when you could let yourself go from the harshness of the world. The time when you could forget your problems, or even who you were, for a little while. Knowing your friends didn’t like that made you question yourself.

“I think studying is important.” He commented. “If no one is studying, no one will get to be anything.”

“I know that. And I wanted to learn how to be more physically active. That’s why I took this dancing class.” Then you added, ”It’s actually my last resort. I’ve tried and failed other activities.”

“I don’t think you should listen to them. Even your oldest friends can’t be right all the time.” He smiled reassuringly. “Thanks for sharing your problem with me. I’m gonna show you just how amazing non-physical activities can be.”

He looked down on his lap and immediately handed you the plastic bag he'd been holding. "The nurse gave it to me, but you can have it instead."

You accepted the bag and peered inside. There was a loaf of bread, still looking fresh and warm.

After that, everything just flew by. Maybe because you were tired and the day was almost over, or maybe because you had Hoseok beside you, who made waiting felt fun. Or maybe both, who knew.

Soon the results came out and the nurse took you to the doctor’s office with Hoseok following in tow. The doctor explained everything and helped you, along with Hoseok, to get used to walking with crutches. You were also given some pills to ease the pain. And after all that, off you go.

You were back in Hoseok’s car, heading home. Somehow, the smell of his obnoxious orange car freshener smelt comforting compared to the hospital’s disinfectant.

“You really shouldn’t have waited for me.” You glanced at the time on your phone. It was almost midnight. “It’s really late now. I’ll have to give you a big tip later.”

He laughed. It sounded like heaven in your ears. “There’s no need for that. I’m just concerned with your health. Plus, I do this to all of my students. Think of it like part of my service.”

You giggled. “Alright, if you say so.”

He snorted. “One time, a student was even left all day in the hospital by their parents so I had to wait overnight until they came.”

“That’s horrible. Don’t they care about their kid?”

"They do. But they care more about their alcohol."

"I take it they were drunk while their kid was injured?"

"Apparently their stress response is getting drunk."

"Oh my…"

"When I say you're not even half bad as my other students, you have to believe it."

Proving to you one more time about how much of a gentleman he was, once you arrived at your apartment building, he parked his car and helped you out of the car. He guided you all the way to your apartment, making sure you weren't hurt on the way. Maybe you really should find a man like him. Or maybe… him himself?

Nah, you weren’t looking for a partner, remember?

He helped you settle down and was about to leave when he stopped in the middle of the doorway.

He turned around. “Wait. Do you live here alone?”

“Why?”

Instead of answering your question, he blurted another question. “Does your family live nearby?”

“They live outside of the city. Why?”

He looked like he was deep in thought before shaking his head. “Nothing. I’ll just come back tomorrow to help you since you’re alone.”

You weren’t one to stop a handsome guy from helping you, but you already owed so many favours for him.

“You have a date with the nurse, remember?”

He scoffed. “I told her I need to check my schedule. Looks like it’ll be full.”

Okay…

A question suddenly came out of your mouth, "Why do you keep helping me? I have no use for you. I can't attend your classes anymore."

It was true. You wouldn’t be able to do any physical activities, including dancing, for a few months. Not to mention your lack of athletic abilities that would demotivate you from trying to dance again even after you recovered.

At first, he looked startled. His eyes widened and mouth agape. But then he quickly regained his composure before answering, "Is it wrong if I think of us as… friends? Are we not friends after all of this?" He gestured to your leg.

You gestured to your surroundings. "But friends don't do this. My friends don’t do this.”

"Don’t base your understanding on them. They're not good friends, Y/n. I'm sorry.”

“But-” You really wanted to counter his argument, defend your oldest friends. But you knew deep down that he was right and there was nothing you could do.

“Let me be a good friend for you, okay?" he said as he linked his pinky to yours. Marking his promise and the start of your friendship.

He wasn’t one to break promises and you knew it firsthand. Had you known him before, you would’ve tossed your friends long ago.

Over the course of a week, he’d shown you care more than what you’ve gotten from your friends your entire friendship.

He cooked you breakfast, because he said that you had to stop eating junk food if you wanted to recover fast.

“Athletic or not, health is very important,” he said.

“Yes.”

“That means you need to eat healthy, Y/n.” He rolled his eyes. “And don’t even try to give me the puppy eyes, it won’t work on me.”

He force fed you your meds when you intentionally forgot about them.

“I put your meds directly beside your glass and you still managed to forget?” he yelled. “Drink it, or I’ll leave this instant.”

At his threat, you immediately took them. You enjoyed his company and weren’t ready to have him leaving you.

Because he noticed how sullen you looked when you realized you couldn’t go out, he tried to cheer you up by dancing crazily to a song playing on the TV. He waved his arms randomly and went around you while yelling incomprehensibly.

“Can you feel the energy, Y/n?” he asked in between his yells.

“No. Stop before the neighbors complain! You’re too loud!” You cupped both ears with your hands.

“Tell me you feel the energy then I’ll stop.”

You chuckled. “Fine. Yes, I feel the energy. Now, stop!”

He abruptly stopped and threw himself beside you on the couch.

“Ew, you’re sweaty. Get off of my couch!”

Among everything that Hoseok had to help you with, adulting was the hardest. In particular, the working part of adulting. Obviously, you needed to take a leave for a month and in order to do that, you first had to go through your boss’ wrath. Fortunately, a certain man with the stage name j-hope was ready to help you.

“It’s gonna be easy. I mean, how scary can bosses be.” He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand.

“Very scary, I warn you.”

Contrary to his belief, after the phone call with your boss ended, Hoseok was scarred for life. Bosses were indeed scary, especially your boss.

With wide eyes, he whispered, “Never ask me to call your boss again. He’s literally a devil in disguise.”

“But did I get permission to take a leave?”

“Oh, shit! I forgot about that.”

“Hoseok!”

When he had a class to teach, you tried to fill the void by texting your older friends. But as expected, they instead made you even worse.

One said, "Hope you get well soon. We'll come back once we're not too busy."

What about the two others? Well, they only read and liked your messages.

That was alright, right? They all had their own lives and were probably busy. It wasn’t like your injury was a big deal anyways… right? There was no need for them to be worried about you or shower you with attention or visit you. Yeah, that was absolutely normal… not.

There was no need for moping around, though. The next day, your old friends and your knight in hypebeast clothes came over. Yes, said knight was Hoseok. Yes, they came at the same time. It was okay to have a handsome man and your way-past-hormonal-stage friends to be in the same place at the same time. Or at least that was what you initially thought.

"Y/n," one of your friends said with a frown on her face. "What happened? We were so worried."

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. They didn't seem that worried when you texted them yesterday.

“And who’s this?” another friend asked while staring at Hoseok. And it wasn’t a nice stare either, more like a judging stare.

You scowled, but still tried to keep some decency. “This is my friend slash dance teacher, Hoseok. Hoseok, these are my friends that I told you about.”

The last one of your friends was the first to shake his hand. “Wow. Is that so? I hope you only hear nice things.”

At that, both you and Hoseok faked a laugh. Your friends didn’t seem to realize though.

“Yeah, nice things indeed,” you commented once your laugh died down.

You were in the middle of talking and catching up with your friends while Hoseok interjected here and there when you needed to go to the restroom. Both to relieve yourself and to hide from the awkwardness for a while. It always felt weird to merge two friend groups.

“Guys, Imma go pee for a bit, okay?”

Hoseok instinctively stood up to help you, but you gestured to him to sit back down. “I got this, don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile and went to the bathroom.

Sure it did take longer for you to just pee compared to when you weren’t injured, but it still didn’t take too long in your opinion. The cast made everything more complicated, but not particularly harder. However, when you were flushing down the toilet, you heard some talking noises, way louder than usual. It sounded more like angry yellings. And as you were washing your hands, you heard a slam of a door. What was happening?

Couldn’t stand to not know what just happened any longer, you quickly finished your business and went out, only to find your once full-of-guests living room now bare with just Hoseok in it. All the while, Hoseok was cleaning up the coffee table while humming a tune.

“Where-?"

You didn’t even get to finish your question when he answered, “Your friends left.“

“So soon?”

He shrugged as he tossed away the cloth he used to clean. “They probably have things to do.”

“And they didn’t even say goodbye to me.” You sighed and plopped yourself on the couch. “I only heard loud noises and a door closing. They didn’t say anything to you?”

“Nope. But, I told them to get their life together before criticising people.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Never in your friendship with your friends had you ever told them off like that. Sure they weren’t that nice, but you didn’t feel it was right to do that. Yeah, you were pretty much a coward. You scared your friends would leave you.

But to have Hoseok said that? Sure it was nice for your friends to know they were jerks, but you were surely going to lose your friends now.

You huffed and your shoulders sagged.

“What did they even do?” you asked as you watched him taking a seat beside you.

“You’ll find out. It’s better if you know it first from them.”

His answer only made you more curious and mull over what could have happened. What did they do that made a nice person like Hoseok say such a thing? Why did they leave abruptly? Would they end your friendship because of that? Would they ever explain to you what happened? So many questions were running through your head, but you couldn’t even guess the answer for any of them.

Hoseok knew how much you were distraught by what happened, so he, being the sunshine that he was, took you to watch him teaching dance to little kids.

“I’d be the oldest student there,” you whined.

“You come not as a student.” He laughed. “You come as my friend.”

“They’d be embarrassed if I watch along.”

“No way. They’re cool with it.” Then he added, “And cute.”

He wasn’t one to lie. The kids were indeed adorable. And their parents were also nice. While you were talking to the parents, the kids occasionally went to you to show you or ask you something. Mostly to ask you what happened to your foot. But one asked you a question that made your cheek heat up for the rest of the class.

“Are you Uncle Hobi’s girlfriend?”

“Oh- Umm…” you stuttered. “I-”

The parent quickly cut it before you could answer. “Don’t ask a question like that!”

“But I’m curious since he said he likes someone.”

You wondered who he liked, but you knew better than to gossip about romance with a kid. So in the end, you refrained yourself from asking.

Once the class finished, Hoseok came up to you with a proud grin and a sweaty body.

“How was it?”

“You were right. They were cute. But one little birdie told me something.” You smirk.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to see that face.”

“C’mon. Just answer me. Who are you crushing on, Hobi?”

He groaned. “You knew about my crush and the nickname. I shouldn’t have brought you here. This was a bad idea.”

“I think it’s fun,” you teased. “Now, entertain me.”

He sighed. “It’s a girl I know from one of my classes.”

“Not the nurse, huh?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never the nurse. Did that answer your question?”

“Not really. But I’ll take it for now since you’re stinky. Go take a shower!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He laughed.

His Friday schedule, that used to be filled with a class with you, was now empty. He was a high-demand teacher, his empty classes were almost instantly filled, but no one really wanted to have a class on a Friday evening. That was reserved for laying in bed and nothing else.

So, instead of letting you mope around during the time which you should have been having a class, Hoseok took you to his secret space on the other side of the dance studio. Secret space because no one in the world knew what was inside aside from him and one curious student that accidentally found it.

Hope World was the name. Such a fitting name for a place with a warm atmosphere, two huge speakers, several smaller speakers, and two giant monitors. There were also a lot of hypebeast plushies and decorations. On the couch, on the table, even on the floor, covering most of the surface in the room.

You took a seat on the couch while feeling its soft surface beneath your hand. “What is this place?”

“This is where I make music. I’m a dance teacher by day and a music producer by night.” He grinned.

“Why did you decide to show me this? This seems… personal.”

“Because I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with doing the things you like.” He turned on the computer and played a song.

“The song is called Blue Side. For a long time, I have had problems finishing this song. But then I found the final piece.”

“What was it?”

“I needed to let go of my past happiness for a greater happiness,” he answered without hesitation, as if he already rehearsed that. “That’s kinda the gist of the song, too. And I think you need that advice right now.”

He was right. Sacrificing your past happiness that was your old friends would probably change your life drastically. You needn't seek their validation in anything you do. Only you mattered because you were the one living your life. Question was, were you ready to let them go?

You looked at him in his eyes. A small smile played on your lips. “Thank you.”

He smiled back before going back to his computer to change the song.

“Okay enough of depressing shit. Let’s dance!” He carefully took your hands in his and pulled you up on your feet.

“I can’t dance,” you whined. “With or without the cast.”

“We’re not doing that kind of dance, you doofus. We’re just swaying along to the song.” He wrapped an arm around your waist so you could follow his sways easier. On instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He swayed ever so slightly, following along the rhythm of the song. The melody filled around the room, into your ears, and out of it again. Hoseok’s strong hands held you, making sure you were steady and wouldn’t topple over. The smell of the room that was so Hoseok, you were pretty sure he used his own perfume to freshen his room. Yet, among all of these foreign things, you felt just right. You felt home.

Once you got the hang of it, you laughed. “This is the easiest dance move you’ve ever taught me.”

“Glad you think this is the easiest because I don’t know any other easier moves.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being unathletic,” you defended yourself. “I didn’t ask to be born like this.”

“What? Born naturally gorgeous?” Soon after those words left his mouth, he looked anywhere else but you, totally pretending like nothing happened.

With cheeks burning, you complained, “You can’t say that and pretend nothing happened.”

He looked back at you and laughed. “Why? Are you shy?”

You punched his chest in a joking manner.

It was when the song stopped when you realized how close you were to Hoseok. You could even smell his cologne, see his tiny freckles scattered on his face, and feel his breath that smelled like mint, a sure sign he ate too many mints. If he was handsome from a distance, he was mesmerizing up close.

Your eyes found his and you saw how captivating his eyes were. Pools of warm brown eyes, deep enough to drown and hypnotize you. And when he smiled, they turned into crescents with wrinkles at the side. Simply put, he had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen.

Your mind snapped back into reality and you immediately let go of him in a panic. Just as you let him go, he also let you go on instinct, making you unable to keep your balance and struggle to find your footing.

“Oh, shit!” He steadied you again with his hands on your waist. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes widened at the event that just unfolded. “Yeah. Thanks for saving my life again.”

“Just so you know, I don’t mind saving you repeatedly if that’s what I need to do to keep you alright.”

It was safe to say that his words echoed in your mind for the rest of the day.

The next day, your questions from the previous days were answered.

“We’re very sorry about what we did,” one of your friends said as soon as they entered your apartment.

“Is this about when you guys left a few days ago?”

“Yes. But we have a reason for that,” another friend answered.

“And the reason being?” You raised an eyebrow, anticipating what was coming next.

You were no longer sure if you wanted to hear it.

“We-”

“We talked shit about you to Hoseok,” the last one interjected. Always to the point, that one.

“We’re very sorry. I know it was wrong and stupid of us to do that. We get it if you don’t want to befriend us anymore,” the first one spoke up again.

Sure you felt sad, but a part of you knew that this had been happening long before. It was more like you waited for them to finally come clean and confess to them, so you weren’t surprised at all. And with them coming clean, you were relieved. You could finally let them go in peace. Just like what Hoseok had said.

You nodded your head slowly. You didn’t have the strength to even look at them in their eyes. “Thanks for being honest with me and for being my best friends all this time. But everything has an end and I think this is ours.”

“I assume they have apologized?” Hoseok asked after looking at your bright smile. The smile of a person who could finally let go of their burdens.

It was Sunday, the day after your friends confessed, and you were stuck in the library with him. While you wanted to listen more to his songs, he wanted to take you to the library. It took a bit of bickering, but he won in the end since you both had never been to a library together before.

“Yes. Thanks for defending me. You didn’t need to do that.” You reached for a book that was too high.

Hoseok came behind you and grabbed the book before handing it to you. “Hadn’t I done that, they’d still walk all over you.”

Oh how true his words were, but you weren’t going to admit that.

“Whatever. I’m still grateful, though.”

“You’re very welcome.”

You sat at a corner and he followed suit, sitting right beside you.

“And what did you say to them?” he asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t remember, but what’s important is that I cut ties with them. I did exactly what you had taught me.”

“I know you’re a good student. Always diligent and curious. And a fast learner, too.”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” You grinned at him.

“I’m always proud of you, ever since the first day you joined my class.”

Sure, there were days in which you wished you were more athletic, but if it weren’t for your lack of athleticism, you wouldn’t have been this close with Hoseok. Or ending your toxic friendship. So you gotta give the credits where it was due.

“Last lesson, enjoy the things you love to do unapologetically.”

“One question, what was your past happiness?”

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♤| dragon ball shapeshifter au

storyline rundown

part two

tw: profanity !! a bit of gore and such

the story begins on kakarot's farm! he lives with his parents, bardock and gine, and his brother raditz.

kakarot takes his produce to the market to sell, talking to krillin who is a police officer watching over in case of robbery or stolen goods, with his wife 18 and his daughter marron.

he hangs out there and sells all his produce, making a whopping amount of money to give back to his mother to go towards their farm. so thats what he does.

later that night, raditz barged in through the door, huffing loudly and covered in purple blood. it had a reddish tint. gine and bardock jump to their feet, bardock still in his training gi and gine in her white shirt and some sweatpants. "raditz!? what happened?" bardock exclaimed, gine following up with "why are you covered in... purple blood!?" this caused kakarot to come out of his room in a rush, "h-h-holy s-shit! i didnt kill anyone i swear mom, mom, dad please, i wouldn't do that!" raditz panicked. "s-something tried to attack me! i didnt know what to do so i attacked back!!" he tries to wipe the blood off, it being on his face.

whatever happened, scared raditz enough to make him shake in fear and what seems to be regret despite it being to protect himself.

kakarot however, still was unsure what happened. his father said he would explain in the morning, the situation was too dire for kakarot to get involved - especially with the police.

in town, vegeta covered his bloodied chest, panting as he hid deep in an alleyway. "goddammit," he huffs, slicking his hair back to keep the human bangs out of his face. hes got a huge gash across his chest, thanks to that damned raditz he happened to work with. luckily, he was morphed into some other alien lifeform and not his original shift state. he slowly morphed into a bird, a finch, and flew off to him apartment. he always kept his window cracked just in case this were to happen. just his luck, we wont be able to eat and to heal he needs that energy for food or else hell be out asleep for awhile.

he decides calling off work, so thats what he does. what he doesnt expect is a man with a thick ass fucking tail and slicked back purple hair and red eyes to be reading a book, lounging like a king on his bed. "f... frieza!?" vegeta says, startled.

"ah hello my creation! lovely seeing you here, dont you think?" he throws the book off to the side, getting up and striding over to the bloodied vegeta. "aw looks like you got a paper cut." he jabs a finger into vegetas cut across his chest. vegeta groans in pain, a tentacle whipping around to hit frieza away into a safer distance, but the icejin blocks smoothly with his muscled tail.

from here:

wow!! you found out vegeta is a "creation" of friezas, but what exactly does that mean?

raditz gets taken in for questioning. he gets blamed for a murder that happened on the otherside of town, the law system being dumb sentenced him to 25 years in prision for a murder he didnt do

kakarot is confused, bardock telling him there arent any alien threats and it was a misunderstanding on the jury and judge's parts bc raditz was getting mugged and a murder far away happened at roughly the same time, and they were desperate to throw someone into jail.

this is a lie, to some extent. kakarot believes it, living happily thinking there are no threats

vegeta attacked raditz, needing food. shapeshifters need to eat hearts and lungs of animals as food

raditz is the one who cut him across the chest (thatd why he has a scar on his chest in the ref sheet)

kakarot has to bring crops and milk into a market farther into town sometime in the next week, it being an event ran by capsule corp, a company that produces a lot of housing and vehicles and being in business for 40 years being the anniversary that day.

vegeta is a mechanical manager, wearing fancy clothing that day since its technically a high spot in the ranks for capsule corp.

vegeta likes milk, surprisingly. it helps a lot when recovering damage, especially his species. this is when he meets kakarot

kakarot is running his stand with the crates of crops and glass jars of milk set out on display with their price, krillin with him

vegeta is annoyed he has to speak up to get the seller's attention so he grunts with an "ahem"

kakarot jumps, apologizing and asking what he wants to buy. vegeta gets his milk and some vegetables for someone he knows

"hey, whats with the fancy suit?"

"you dont know who i am?"

"no. should i?"

"i-? im vegeta! im manager of the mechanics in capsule corp!"

"oh. is the job hard?"

they conversate, as kakarot sells his produce happily listening as he was able to get the short man with a temper to talk about his job.

vegeta himself was caught off guard by this action but happily talks

this ends in kakarot running behing the stand's curtain and grabbing his business card so vegeta can have a discount on milk next time he decides to buy

vegeta takes the card walking off

the card has kakarots name and number on the back, a message saying "text me personally if you want extra, i dont mind taking some. you seem cool!"

vegeta is a bit ticked, but pockets the card

over time, vegeta and kakarot talk over text a bit, kakarot delivering him milk like an old time milk delivery boy

turns out he actually used to be one as a kid

turns out hes been into marial arts as well, a long time interest of vegetas

they bond over this, kakarot find himself growing a crush on vegeta

one time kakarot stops buy with a delivery unannounced, not knowing he typed the text but didnt send it. he knocks on vegetas apartment door, but no answer.

he checks to see if its unlocked, and it is so he lets himself in, just wanting to put the delivery on the counter and head out.

he doesnt expect to turn around and see a vegeta with a towel wrapped around his waist, tentacles coming out of his back, green eyes, and sharp ears, teeth, and claws. "K-KAKAROT!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he yells, surprised. he doesn't have bangs either

"why do you have tentacles?? why do you look different? why do you have that scar?"

vegeta is caught off guard, not sure if he should push kakarot out or tell him the truth. one way or another he knows the truth will spread, so he carefully debates his options

he tells kakarot the truth, hes a shapeshifter and hes insanely dangerous

kakarot is surprised dangerous aliens exist

he tells vegeta this, and deep down vegeta is mad kakarot is sheltered

little do they know as they conversate and bond, growing closer to each other kakarot finds out vegeta made a vow not to ever get in a relationship no matter how much he envied them, especially a human relationship, a certain someone is watching them and listening in, theyre keeping tabs on vegetas and kakarots feelings

trust issues amirite?

later that night, kakarot says his goodbye heading home, heart pounding. wow!!!! vegeta is... great. very great. kinda cute too, i mean what!?? no!!

kakarot rants to himself aloud in his room, window open to keep himself cool, about vegeta as he debates his feelings. he doesnt care if this seems out of character in his friends terms, all they see from him anyway is a dense fightcrazed guy with a dysfunctional relationship with an ex and his son. he realized vegeta doesnt see him like that, but, what DOES vegeta see him as?

he calls it a night

he wakes up to a "thwap, thwap, thwap" against his wooden floor

he sits up, looking around and seeing a short figure sitting at his desk.

"whos there?"

"ah, youre awake monkey! i have valuable information for you, about your lovely vegeta." the voice is squeaky

"and, who is telling me this?" kakarots interest is piqued, not seeing the mysterious figure as a threat, as of now at least

"oh-hohoho! im dr. cold! but please, call me frieza. doctor cold is my father's name."

"and what do you have to tell me about vegeta?"

"mmm, are you sure you want to know?" he gets up, beginning to pace

"theres a catch isnt there" kakarot realizes, serious

"oh! maybe you arent so dense afterall. yes, there iss monkey. its simple, deliever some of your left over crop to my facility tomorrow, i already left the address on a paper over on that... pitiful little desk of yours." frieza pauses. "vegeta will kill you if you arent careful. hes hungry, and he wants that heart. but... i think the poor creation wants it in more than one way. kill him before he kills you."

frieza hands kakarot a box cutter

"thats the only thing that will kill him. if you dont do it i expect that delivery tomorrow by midnight. if you dont show, and theres no news of him being dead, youll be a brilliant collection to my creations, monkey!" the man laughs in joy, clasping his hands together as his red eyes pierce through kakarot

kakarot reluctantly agrees, unsure how this will play out

PART TWO WILL BE MADE SOON!!!

anyway heres the part 1 of the rundown.

[threeletterslife]

01 | Illegirl

→ next chapter

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity (like y/n really needs to tone it down lmao) & kissing/making out

→ wordcount: 6.2k

With your head tucked under the pages of a textbook that's literally heavier than twice your weight, your hand furiously flies across the surface of your messy, but meticulous notes. At this point, you've been writing for so long that you don't feel the pain of hand cramps anymore.

Curse your fucking philosophy teacher for not succumbing to technology. Your notes would've taken you thirty minutes to complete instead of three hours had you been able to type them out.

But it's not like you're complaining about the workload. You lowkey like learning, therefore you like school. Besides, you're a diligent person. Once you start studying, there's really no turning back until you finish. In fact, nothing can distract you from your studies. Well maybe except—

"Hey, Y/N!" Seokjin screams from the kitchen.

Your head jerks up so fast hearing your cousin's voice that you wince from the neck strain. Cursing profanities under your breath, you shout back, "What?!"

"It's about dinner!" Seokjin yells.

You perk up. God, you weren't really the sporty type but Jin told you using your brain burns more calories than running a mile. But what can you expect from a theatre major? Still, you would use any excuse to eat as much as you do.

"I've invited a friend over to eat with us!" your cousin hollers.

Slightly frowning, you wonder since when Jin had friends that had come over. Your frown wavers away. Maybe you should be happy your cousin was socializing for once and not worry about the idea of some stranger coming to your house to eat.

You sigh as you push away from your desk, standing up to make your way to the kitchen for a more elaborate explanation.

"Who's the friend?" you ask, casually. "I mean, more importantly, what are you cooking?"

Jin's back was turned from you, his arms moving swiftly across the stove in a graceful manner you know you can never master. But you hear him chuckle at your priorities.

"Today's menu is steak," Jin says heartily.

Ah, steak. Why hadn't I been able to guess? The tender and cordial aroma should've pointed all fingers to your favorite meal.

"And the friend? Park Jimin," Jin answers dreamily and you can tell your cousin's just falling in love with his steak sizzling on the pan. He's always like that (dramatic and passionate).

"Park Jimin?" you repeat, sliding into a chair next to the kitchen island. "Doesn't ring a bell. So where'd you meet him?"

"Well, he's my co-worker." Jin shrugs nonchalantly as he places the sizzling steak on a platter, seasoning it passionately.

"Huh? Co-worker?" You frown. "Wait he's a teacher too?"

Jin was your school's arts and drama teacher, always staying out late for theater practice and unfortunately dragging you out with him because "you can't survive on your own."

"Yeah. Maybe Mr. Park might ring a bell?" Jin suggests.

Your eyes enlarge at the familiar name and the realization hits you like a big, fat freight train. "Mr. Park?!" you screech like a barn owl. "My math teacher?!"

Your cousin's head snaps up from smelling his precious steak. "Oh? He's your teacher?"

"Um, yes!" you yell, throwing your hands aggressively in the air. "Oh my GOD. This is gonna be so awkward! Jin! Just because you live a Hollywood life, doesn't mean you can drag me into that crazy shit too! Really? A student eating with her fucking teacher? What kind of fucked up fuckery is that?!"

"Language!" Jin warns. "You're just over-dramatizing things, baby cousin," he laughs. "I told you, you should pursue acting."

"I'm not joking!" you seethe, your face turning red as you imagine the future awkwardness that would ensue between you and Mr. Park. Not that you have anything against him.

Jin just rolls his eyes. "Then just stay in your room," he says. "Besides, you better get used to him being around. Jimin's a chill dude, I'll be hanging out with him a lot more. I'm sure he won't mind you."

You sigh. "Yeah, but I'd rather not take the chances... I mean, not when this man can change my grades with one button."

Jin chuckles. "And why would he do that? You're probably his best student. Isn't math that class you have over a hundred in, right now?"

"Well, yeah, but you never know," you protest.

"Wow, what a nerd."

"Um, not a nerd," you reply. "Just smarter than you."

Jin scoffs, placing a delicate hand to his chest as he mocks offense. "Excuse me, baby cousin, I happen to be almost a decade older than you."

You laugh out loud. "A decade doesn't seem like it helped you much," you tease, never losing an argument, no matter how small and pathetic. "But anyways. Are you sure Mr. Park will be chill?  I'm that weird kid in his class that never socializes but sets the curve for every test, you know? I'm that nerd..."

Jin chuckles. "You worry too much. Don't you know teachers love students that excel in their class? Besides, Jimin knows you're my cousin. It'll be okay," Jin chirps as he grins at his piping hot steak. "It'll be fine..."

"It'll be okay, he said, it'll be fine, he said!" you grumble. "Fucking idiot!"

Normally, Jin would've yelled at you for your profanities, but at the moment, he was too wasted to give a fuck. "Maybe I shouldn't have drunk my stress," he giggles. "Jimin, your beer is delicious."

"Yee, boi," Jimin answers, waving his arms around drunkenly.

You can't believe your eyes, or ears for that matter. Your usually formal, sharp, calm and collected math teacher had first shown up wearing severely ripped jeans, a loose, black t-shirt and jewelry. And now he was drunk.

Originally, you had been stuck in your room, quietly and innocently, you might add, eating a piece of steak. Honestly, you were pretending like you didn't even exist. It was only when you heard the loud clinkings of those beer cans when you knew you would have to take action sometime. Your cousin was not a good drinker.

Your teacher, who usually looks like a Mr. Park for god's sake, with his ties and button-up collar shirts now looks like a Jimin with his choice of stylish garments and a pair of dangly earrings. Jimin runs his fingers through his messy black hair that's usually so well-combed and gelled. Then, his alluring chocolate eyes fixate on you.

"Baby girl, why don't you have a drink?" he asks you, waving his (empty) beer can at you.

You have a wordless reaction, staring at your teacher in absolute horror. You're 110% sure he doesn't remember you're his student.

Goddamn, he's so wasted.

"Jin, my man, she's hot. Who is she?" Jimin asks as he flashes a charming smile at you, throwing in a wink as well.

You have no idea why your stomach flips. But you're pretty sure it has something to do with the seductive way your teacher is looking at you. You would've never thought Jimin could have this sort of side to him.

"No touchy, touchy, my dude," Jin slurs. "She's my baby cousin."

Jimin winks at you again.

And of course, you feel at least a hundred butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. Had you known Jimin was this attractive? No. But did you know now? Hell yeah.

Still, he's your teacher... "I'm your student," you sigh, staring at the drunken man in pity.

"Ooh," Jimin grins flirtatiously. "Kinky."

Now it's your turn to run your fingers through your hair. "T-That..." you sigh. "That's borderline perverted," you murmur.

Jin giggles. "Y/N, you have no—" your cousin pauses his sentence, suddenly holding his stomach and frowning. "Ooh, I don't feel too good," he announces. Then, he curls up and with such obnoxious noise, wretches out the steak he'd consumed.

You instantly jerk your head away, afraid you'll vomit if you catch the sight of Jin's half-digested food. Yes, you like food, but not when it's in that kind of state.

"Oh my god, Jin!" you whine, annoyance and some form of anger coursing through your veins. "I told you not to drink, goddammit!"

Your cousin only grins, swaying his body back and forth to a song that's not even playing. Sighing, you hurriedly grab a wet rag, cursing profanities and saying 'ew' every three seconds as you attempt to clean up the vomit. You're literally forcing your stomach to stay calm at the disturbing sight and stench.

You're even more ticked off that your cousin is just smiling like a total buffoon right next to you. "I'M A FUCKING DECADE YOUNGER THAN YOU SO WHY AM I ACTING LIKE A FUCKING MOTHER RIGHT NOW?" you shriek as you throw the rag to the side to glare at Jin.

Except, he was passed out. You scoff. "Unbelievable!" You push Jin over with your hand. "Jin! Wake the fuck up!"

"Ooh, baby girl, I didn't know you had such a dirty mouth," Jimin purrs, taking hold of his can of beer and Jin's, clinking them together and laughing as if it were the funniest sight in the world.

You glare at your so-called teacher. "If you weren't in charge of my grades you'd be dead," you seethe.

"What's that, baby girl?" Jimin asks. "I think you might have to be closer for me to hear you." And with that, he grabs ahold of your hand and pulls you down into his lap.

Momentarily, you're too shocked to have any sort of reaction. It takes a while for you to even realize you're sitting on your teacher's lap. "Ji—I mean, Mr. Park!" you shriek, trying to scramble up.

But Jimin holds you firm, staring deeply into your eyes as if he could see your soul. And something about that stops your squirming. You are still.

"Beautiful," Jimin mumbles as he softly touches the side of your cheek.

Your heart is beating fast and you can feel your cheeks starting to heat up. Why was this making you feel so... weird?

"Beauty is from the outside," Jimin states, moving his head closer to yours. That surely ruined the moment.

You frown. "I think you mean beauty is from the inside," you correct.

"Whatever," Jimin mumbles, continuing to admire your face. "Who are you?" he asks. "Such a beauty..."

"Your fucking student," you reply smartly, scrunching your nose. You? A beauty? I don't fucking think so.

"Kinky," Jimin says again. He slowly intertwines his fingers with yours. "I like you."

What. The. Fuck.

Now you're just internally screaming. Yes, you admit your math teacher is rather... hot. Yes, you admit that he has some sort of magnetic field that attracts you. And yes, you admit you don't feel too bad sitting in his lap (oh boy). But you know, in the back of your head, this is somewhat illegal. After all, some internet research (a.k.a stalking) showed that Jimin was 24. You're 17. It just isn't going to happen.

"Cool," you respond. "Glad that I'm liked. Um... Imma get going now..." you try to smoothly escape from Jimin's lap. But it's just not your day.

Jimin tugs you back, his hand wrapped around your wrist tightly. "No." He grins. "You." His hand holds yours. "Will." His other hand cups your warm, flushed cheeks. "Stay." His lips meet yours.

He does it so quickly that you have little to no time to stop him. And once in the kiss, there was no turning back.

Your teacher tastes like beer as his tongue explores your lips, sucking and even biting softly. And as the love-deprived person as you are, you don't stop him. Instead, you respond by wrapping your arms around Jimin's neck. Then before you realize it, or even stop yourself, you're kissing him back. The heat of the moment thing, you guess.

Jimin pulls you closer to his face, the hand that had been holding yours is set on your waist, securing you.

That's when you realize this is not some random dude named Jimin. This is Park Jimin, your mathematics teacher.

"Fuck!" you shriek as you aggressively break the kiss—or more like make out session—your lips leaving your teacher's with a little 'pop.'

Jimin stares at you in confusion, his eyebrows scrunching over his wide, curious eyes. "Fuck already?"

You bury your face in your hands, then realize you're still sitting in your teacher's lap. "Fuck!" you repeat as you scramble away a good two feet.

"Already?" he asks once again.

"You... you.. pervert!" you scream, flapping your arms faster than a hummingbird. "I'm 17!"

Jimin cocks his head. "How old am I again?" He grins foolishly. But cutely. His black hair is messed up even more and his soft, plump lips are slightly wet. Oh boy. You don't even want to get started on his alluring eyes.

Fuck! You shake your head, panic taking over your whole body. Not the time, Y/N!

"You don't know my age either?" Jimin asks, staring at you with puppy dog eyes. You think you're going to faint.

Get it together Y/N!

"24," you grit out. "You're 24."

At that, Jimin frowns. "Shit. You weren't lying when you said you were my student," he slurs, squinting at you as if he were looking at the sun.

"You thought I was fucking lying?!" you shriek. "Snap out of it!"

"Shit," Jimin deadpans, his dark eyes flickering. "You're Yoon Y/N," he realizes. "I'm actually fucked."

Then, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he passes out on the floor, right next to your dumbass cousin.

You can't move. You just kissed your fucking teacher. No, you made out with him. But the worst part—you think you had enjoyed it.

You wake up in your bed with the biggest migraine you've had in a month. It's almost as if you were the one that had passed out drunk yesterday.

The morning rays are shining through your thin curtains and you sigh out, looking at the bright sight. Thank fucking god it's a Saturday. If only this migraine would go away.

Then, you realize something that makes the pain in your head amplify by ten-folds. Yesterday, you'd made out with your math teacher—in the same room as your overprotective cousin, mind you.

"Well fuck," you whisper, placing a cool finger to your lips. The very same lips that had kissed your teacher. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" you mutter aggressively.

You remember it all as if your brain had shot a movie on the spot—your teacher tugging you into his warm lap, making sexual comments, kissing you... Your face burns red. Not to mention you feel like some annoying garden gnome is hammering his huge mallet right in your head.

Fuck my migraine.

But your migraine wasn't the worst of your problems at this point. In fact, it seemed to be dwelling in your poor head because of your problems.

"How the fuck am I supposed to face him in school? Oh god, will he remember? Holy fuck—how will I cope if he doesn't recall?" you talk to yourself frantically, habitually flapping your arms around in panic.

You try to take a deep breath to calm yourself down but that doesn't work. Instead, you end up burying your face in your hands, crashing back down on your bed. "I actually don't want to go to school anymore," you say. But maybe a bit too loudly.

"Y/N, DID I HEAR YOU RIGHT?" a voice practically screams from the kitchen. "You LOVE learning!" Jin screeches. "Did something happen? Are you getting bullied?"

"What? No!" you yell, exasperated. It was always up to your cousin to make a mountain out of a molehill.

"THEN WHAT HAPPENED?" Jin shouts.

You sigh. From all the yelling going back and forth, it looked like by the end of the day, your throat would hurt as much as your head. Sitting up from your bed, you make your way to the kitchen to explain yourself without having to scream your lungs out.

"Y/N, honey, you look sick," Jin says as soon as turns around from the stove, catching sight of your messy hair and dead eyes.

"Migraine," you sigh.

"I've gotchu," your cousin declares dutifully as he places an orange pill and steaming hot rice porridge in front of you. He sits down in front of you, watching with his warm eyes as you dry swallow the pill and dig in to your breakfast. "So... what happened?" he asks as you finally pause from your eating to take a breath.

"Huh?"

"Why don't you want to go to school?" Jin repeats, taking a napkin and wiping your wet chin.

You shrug. "I dunno," you lie. "It's just one of those moods."

Jin lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, just that? I thought it was something serious, Y/N! You had me worrying!"

You roll your eyes but smile. The warm and toasty porridge paired with the painkiller was really working miracles. You felt much better already.

"You always worry, Jin," you chuckle. "Shouldn't I be worried about you? You literally threw up last night."

"Yes, I know. You did a pretty bad job cleaning it up," Jin laughs. "Thanks for the attempt, though."

"Well, I was..." you attempt to explain yourself. "...Distracted."

Jin laughs, getting up to fetch your favorite dish of kimchi, placing it right in front of you. Once he sits down he watches you eat again.

"Sorry, Y/N," he apologizes suddenly, just as you shove a huge spoonful of rice and kimchi in your mouth.

"For what?" you sputter, bits of half-chewed food dribbling down your mouth. "Oops," you mutter, clumsily reaching for a napkin. But Jin was already ahead of you, dabbing at your chin once again.

"I don't know... I threw up, you tried to clean it up... You were probably annoyed that we were being so loud. Oh right, and we were both drunk..." Jin sighs.

You shake your head. "I'm not mad. You don't have to feel bad," you say.

If anything, I'm mad at myself for kissing my teacher.

Speaking of your teacher...

"So, where's Jimin?" you ask, blood immediately rushing to your cheeks just saying his name.

Oh god, why did I even ask? Now I'm going to sound suspicious.

"I'm the worst person to ask that. I don't remember much—everything's so hazy. I really shouldn't have drunk so much last night..." Jin sighs. "But why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing," you respond quickly.

If Jin had no recollection of his drunk night, then that would mean your teacher wouldn't remember... right??

"Y/N, you responded too quickly, something's up," Jin laughs, stretching back in his seat. "What happened? Spill the tea."

Well, shit. Channel your inner actress, Y/N. You've got this.

"Oh, I don't know, it was nothing, really. It was just funny to see my math teacher get wasted and faint then disappear without a trace the next day, you know?" you say casually.

"Jimin probably ditched 'cause he got embarrassed," Jin chuckles, shaking his head.

Ohohoho, you have no idea.

"Yeah, well, thanks for the breakfast, Jin," you say, getting up from your seat. "I've got a quiz in his class on Monday. Gotta study."

"Wow, how diligent," your cousin teases lightly. "Have fun," he sarcastically calls as you walk towards your room.

You roll your eyes but smile. As dumb and dramatic and drunk he could get, you can't deny that you love your cousin.

As somewhat of a nerd, you had always passed school with flying colors—especially being gifted in mathematics. On the day of Jimin's math quiz, you finish thirty minutes early and take the leisure to stretch a bit and play around with your lucky pencil.

Normally, you'd look up to see if your teacher was grading quizzes from the previous period, but today, you were doing everything possible to avoid his eye contact. Maybe you were overreacting... but that kiss, er, make out was something you couldn't just forget so easily.

Are we just going to forget that shit even happened? Then, you realize, probably yeah. Jin didn't remember what happened when he got drunk—maybe Jimin would too.

Well, shit. That's just better for me. I made out with my fucking teacher and he doesn't even remember. God, I feel like I'm in a high school romance drama.

You cringe at your inner thoughts then force yourself to focus back on your quiz.

Time to check answers.

Thirty minutes later, as soon as the bell rings, you zip right up, about to bolt from the classroom when Jimin just:

"Everyone who hasn't finished the quiz, please turn it in now! Y/N, I'll see you after class."

Your blood runs cold and you freeze. Why? WHY? WHY?

"Probably for some nerdy math geek thing," students whisper. You pray that they're right.

God forbid he remembers what happened Saturday night.

Students file quickly out of the classroom—a little too quickly. All too soon, you and Jimin were the only ones in the room. You gulp.

Jimin stands up from his desk, his fingers racing up to habitually loosen his tight, black tie. He looks so different in his school clothes and when he's sober. Your teacher coughs lightly as he walks over to your desk awkwardly.

Or maybe the awkwardness was just your stupid imagination.

"Hey, Y/N," Jimin says. "How was the quiz?"

"Uh, good," you quickly respond, turning red just facing your teacher. Please don't come any closer.

You curse inside your head as Jimin literally crouches down to your eye-level, leaning in as you automatically lean back. Your heart beats in your head as you realize your hands are sweating. Yeah, no, you didn't want confrontation. Not today, at least.

"Um... Mr. Park, I have to get to lunch," you lie, abruptly pushing back your chair and springing up from your seat. "Er... Mr. Jung, my literature teacher wanted to talk to me."

Jimin looks at you with suspicion. "Hm... I was hoping to discuss something with you," he sighs.

Goosebumps blossom on your skin. "It's urgent," you fib. "He'll get really mad at me if I don't get there in the next minute."

Jimin frowns while glancing at the class clock and sighs again. "Well then, I guess our talk can wait."

You almost cheer out loud at your victory, but calmly start to walk away from your teacher. "Thank you, Mr. Park!" you call behind you as you practically bolt out of the classroom.

Your teacher stares at the door and cocks his head. "I've never seen Jung Hoseok get mad at his students in my entire life," he mutters under his breath while shaking his head.

You're at home, stretched out on your bed, your homework finished and your tests taken. But you're still worried.

"Goddammit," you cuss.

"Woah there," Jin calls from the kitchen, his second bedroom. "Did Y/N get her first B?"

You roll your eyes. "Not possible," you call back.

"Then do you have an excuse for your profanity?!"

"Nope, not really," you sigh. "Sorry, I'll watch my language!" you shout before Jin can remind you again. Then you groan as you bury your face into your plushy pillow.

You were dreading the next day. Although you weren't sure what Jimin wanted to discuss with you, you weren't going to take any chances.

It was Tuesday.

"Y/N, I have to talk to you," Jimin says as the math class is dismissed.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Park!" you say quickly. "Girl problems, I gotta get to the bathroom!" you lie.

It was Wednesday.

"Y/N, may I talk to you?" Jimin calls as soon as class is finished.

"Sorry, Mr. Park!" you say as you're already halfway out the door. "I have to see the nurse. Cramps, you know!"

"You don't seem like you're in pain!" Jimin calls as you run out.

It was Thursday.

"Y/N, we really need to talk," Jimin says as he blocks your way of the classroom.

You sigh. "I wish I could, but I need to turn in a philosophy project for Mr. Kim," you fib.

"During lunch?" Jimin sighs. You nod convincingly. "Alright, then," Jimin says. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"We'll see about that," you mumble under your breath.

It was Friday.

"Y/N. No excuses. You've been avoiding me for almost a week," Jimin says as he squats in front of your desk, literally compelling you to stay frozen in your seat.

"But Mr. Park, I kinda have to go... My cousin's taking me on a trip for this weekend and I have to leave right now."

You pat yourself on your back for this lie. Nice one, Y/N! Jin always pulls you out of school to take mini weekend trips so this was totally plausible.

Jimin laughs. "Oh, Y/N. I'm very close to Jin, you know," he says. "He can't be taking you on a trip now if I'm supposed to be going with you guys."

"What." You shake your head in disbelief, jaw practically dropping open. "No!" you deadpan.

"Yes," Jimin answers. "I've been trying to tell you this whole week, you know. Jin wasn't going to tell you until last minute because he knew you'd make some excuse not to go."

It was official. Jin had definitely lost his marbles. Trip and teacher did not go well together and you'd think someone as capable as Jin would know this. Besides, the last time you and Jimin had been together outside of school... You shudder. Nope!

"I'm going to kill my cousin!" you shriek, exasperated out of your mind.

"I mean, now it's a bit too late, don't you think?" Jimin chuckles. "We're leaving right after school."

The words hit you like a freight train. Why? Why the fuck? What the fuck? How? But most importantly, where? You swear to god if Jin had so very conveniently planned a beach trip you were actually going to murder him. Bikini and teacher are two words you don't want to see in the same sentence.

You take a deep breath, tilting your head back to pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to calm yourself down. When you feel like you're not going to drop f-bombs in a classroom setting anymore, you face your teacher: "So, uh, where are we going for the trip? I swear to god if it's at the beach—"

"Camping," Jimin answers quickly.

"Oh, whew!" you exclaim, placing a hand to your heart in all gladness. But apparently, you had been glad way too soon.

"Oh right, Y/N, I still need to talk to you about another thing," your teacher says, scratching his head rather awkwardly.

You freeze, your heart beating in your ears as suddenly your stomach feels like it shrunk twice its original size.

Jimin coughs awkwardly. "But, um... I think it can wait for later," he sighs. "It's not very... classroom appropriate," he whispers lowly.

Well fuck, he remembers. Fuck my life. At this point, you wonder if things can even end up worse than this. Sighing, you do the only thing that you do best: leaving.

"If it's not classroom appropriate, it's probably never appropriate," you quickly mutter as you swing your backpack over your shoulder. "Thanks for the heads up about the trip," you say. "Now, excuse me so I can go yell at my cousin."

Jimin chuckles. "Yeah, see you, Y/N. Best of luck with that."

You almost scoff. This was going to be one long weekend.

The moment you barge into familiar territory, otherwise known as Seokjin's drama classroom, you finally let your rage loose. "THE FUCKING HELL! JIN, I HATE YOU!"

Your raucous outburst startles your cousin who nearly drops a golden crown prop. You don't even give him time to react before you're ranting. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WERE KEEPING THIS FUCKING CAMPING TRIP FROM ME!"

"Woah, there, Y/N. Slow down," Jin says in a soothing tone as if he were trying to calm a wild horse. "The camping trip?" he questions, cocking his head.

"YEAH! THE ONE WHERE YOU SO CONVENIENTLY INVITED JIMIN!"

Jin's confused face flashes with recognition as he nods. "Oh yeah, the camping trip. Sorry."

"Sorry won't fucking cut it!" you shriek. "And really? With Jimin too?!"

Jin sighs. "Well I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but I just wanted some bonding time with my best friend. You know that I've haven't had friends in years. And I would've just left you home, but you also know that I care too much about your meals to do that. You'd literally starve to death Y/N, you really can't cook!"

His words make you feel bad for your outburst. In a way, he's right. Jin literally doesn't have a social life because of you. When you're stuck studying your ass off every day, he's the one who makes sure you get your meals. When you're in a particularly bad mood due to fluctuating hormone levels (curse puberty), he's the one who can calm you down with a good joke and a bowl of ice cream. When you had thought no one in the whole world cared for you, he's the one who swooped in and gave you the love and reassurance you needed.

In other words, you owe Jin. Big time. You know full-heartedly that your cousin decided to take you on this trip so you wouldn't be crouched in your room 25/8, skipping meals and being dangerously alone. So the least you can do is to go on the trip without complaining like a little bitch.

It'll be awkward, yes, considering it's with your teacher that you've potentially done such illegal things with. But you do have a heart, and your heart tells you it's about time to owe up to all the good Jin has done for you. It's also telling you to bite down your pride and apologize to your dear cousin—but apologizing has never really been your thing.

You sigh, scratching your head awkwardly. "Um, I guess I'm... I'm... sorry then," you mutter, looking down at your feet. God, you really don't like to admit things when you're wrong.

Jin chuckles. "You should be. Your yelling made me age a decade!" he teasingly claims. "And besides, I'm pretty sure you woke up the dead with all that cussing," he says disapprovingly. "No profanity, Y/N! At least, not in school."

"Okay, okay, sorry," you say quickly, looking down with slight shame.

You feel Jin's warm hands pinching your cheek, making you look up at him. "Thanks for understanding so quickly, you're the best Y/N." He literally giggles as he pats your cheek.

Rolling your eyes, you lightly swat your cousin's hand away. "I guess I'm just happy you're finally attempting to be social," you respond.

Jin chuckles. "Yeah, I'm trying to be a role model for you, Y/N. But anyway, now that you're here, wanna eat lunch with me?"

You give him a weird look. "Why though?"

Your cousin raises his eyebrows. "I know you eat lunch alone all the time."

Now it's your turn to raise your eyebrows. "And what if I like to eat alone?" you say defiantly.

Jin shakes his head. "Y/N, you don't like to eat alone."

You sigh in defeat. Curse Jin for knowing me better than myself! "Fine. But just this once."

"Good," Jin smiles. "I'll just tell Jimin to eat with Hoseok or something."

"Hoseok? Mr. Jung? My literature teacher?"

"Yeah, he and Jimin are close too," Jin tells you. "Jimin's so close to everyone. I wish I were like him."

You laugh. "You're amazing just the way you are," you say as you sit down on a desk and pull out the lunch Jin had made you. "I still can't believe you're choosing to eat lunch with me and literally canceling on Jimin."

Jin shrugs. "You're my baby cousin."

You smile. "And you're like the good family I never had."

As soon as you get home, you try to find your suitcase to last minutely pack for a trip you'd just been told about. But you can't find your suitcase.

"Don't bother packing! I've done it for you!" Jin calls from the kitchen. You follow his voice out and watch him as he shoves in hoards of food into fifty different bags.

"Wow. You packed for me?" you ask. "So exactly how long were you planning on keeping this trip from me?"

"As long as I could," Jin replies as he starts to cut watermelon. "Get in the car, Y/N. Jimin's probably waiting already."

"Fine," you sigh as you drag your feet to the car. You really don't want to face your math teacher. The last time you two met outside of school... it had ended quite illegally.

"Hey, Y/N," Jimin says, tugging down his dark sunglasses to give you some cute eye smile.

"That should be fucking illegal," you murmur as you slide into the back seats, seeing that Jimin had taken shotgun. You can't dare to look at your teacher without remembering that hot night.

"What should be illegal?" Jin asks as he slides into the driver's seat. "School? Wait. You're a nerd. You love school."

You roll your eyes. "Drive, asshole."

"Yes ma'am!" Jin salutes, grinning at you foolishly.

"You two are hilarious," Jimin chuckles as he leans his chair back. "I can't believe I can actually witness this for three whole days."

"Yeah, lucky you," you mumble sarcastically. "Wait—Jin. Isn't the camping place over there?" you point to the spot that Jin had passed by.

"Uh..." Jin laughs. "Silly. We're trying a different camping spot this time."

"Okay," you chirp, stretching out in the backseat. "Wake me up when we're there then."

"Sure thing," Jin says. "Sleep well, baby cousin."

You roll your eyes but smile, then you fall into a deep, peaceful slumber.

You were supposed to wake up to see a cold, damp environment with towering trees surrounding the area. You know, the kind of environment you're supposed to see when you go camping. Instead, you get the bright, hot sun beating down on you. Oh, and also, sand.

"What the f—"

"Rise n' shine, sunshine," Jin sings. "Welcome to paradise."

You laugh, attempting to straighten out your disheveled hair and discreetly as possible wipe away the bit of dried drool on your face. "Ha. Haha. Very funny, Jin. Why are we stopping by the beach to have lunch? That's so fu—freaking extra."

"Stopping by?" Jimin says from the driver's seat. Oh, what the heck they must've switched seats when you were clonked out.

You see Jin and Jimin exchange some nervous looks.

"Wait a minute... No. No... NO!" you shout, hands grasping bits of your hair, almost as if you'd pull it out any second. "This is bad. This is so, so bad."

"We didn't even say anything yet!" Jin laughs at your reaction.

"I know what you're going to say! I know where this is going!" you shriek. "We're not going camping! We're going to stay at the beach! Motherfu—"

"Now, now, Y/N. Calm down. It's the beach. It's beautiful! You can swim, we'll have a barbecue, go to nice restaurants with nice views!"

"I can't do that!" you hiss angrily.

"Why is that?" Jin asks innocently.

You kinda wanna punch his innocent-looking face at the moment.

"Because," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose, "my fucking teacher will be here," you say slowly, enunciating every word to get through your cousin's thick head. "I can't wear some bathing suit in front of my teacher!" You point accusingly at Jimin, who raises up both hands innocently.

"BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL!" you shriek which sends Jin snorting in laughter.

"Y/N! Honey! For real, calm down! It doesn't matter. Just don't think of Jimin as your teacher, then you'll be fine," Jin says in his soothing voice.

"Yes, it does matter," you argue. "What if someone sees? What if someone reports?"

Jin rolls his eyes. "Relax, Y/N. We're at least six hours away from home. I highly doubt anyone we know will see us and report."

"Agreed," Jimin says. You feel slightly better that he has both of his hands on the wheel. "I promise, we won't even get drunk like last time. I didn't bring any alcohol."

"Oops," Jin giggles. "I did."

"Jin!!" you and Jimin both cry in unison.

"Your alcohol tolerance is actual shit!" you yell. "I swear to god if you get drunk again I'm gonna run you over with this car!"

"No, not my car!" Jimin shrieks, gripping his steering wheel harder.

Jin throws his head back and lets loose the largest laugh yet. "Bro, you're worried about your car but not me?"

Jimin shrugs. "Well, priorities."

You can't help but laugh as well.

So what if these two bimbleheads lied to you about this weekend vacation? You honestly hate to admit it, but having company was fun. Especially bickering company. Maybe, just maybe you'll enjoy the trip. (If you can survive the awkwardness that is.)

And maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to avoid your teacher's confrontation.

Maybe.

—next chapter

—masterlist

[tirkdi]

Hi! I saw you're doing prompt ideas. Can you do one for Mal x Darkling with jealousy/ sexual innuendo? I loved the family reunion one with them

1.4k words, T for profanity. Takes place immediately post-King of Scars.

The children had all been coaxed to sleep at a reasonable hour, and even if no churches would be built in its honor, Alina knew it was a feat far more impressive than anything else she’d ever done. A night like this — Alina and Mal sitting on a couch before the fire in an otherwise quiet orphanage, her feet tucked up beside her and her head resting on his shoulder, hot chocolate he’d made her in her hands … even if she still hadn’t fully adjusted to losing her powers, if she was sometimes too hungry to be truly content, a night like this came pretty darn close.

Darkness shrouded a chair in the corner of the room — face and hands materialized as the blackness resolved into a kefta. Alina blinked drowsily in the warmth of the fire, watching the figure. He appeared less often these days and was easy to dissipate — a couple blinks usually cleared him from her vision. It had been disturbing at first, her brain playing tricks with the shadows, but the occasional hallucination was certainly better than the real thing. She blinked again. The figure persisted.

“Did you miss me, Alina?”

Huh. She’d never had auditory hallucinations before.

She grabbed on to her hot chocolate just in time to keep it from spilling as Mal jumped out of his seat. “HOLY SHIT,” he yelled, apparently startled enough to forget that they’d just convinced Alexei to fall asleep and were trying to be quiet about it. He seemed startled enough that she almost thought —

— wait. Alina put down her hot chocolate and stood, eyes wide, following Mal’s gaze to where the Darkling sat in the chair. “You can see him, too?”

“Too?” Hurt flashed across his face, and Alina cringed. She hadn’t mentioned her hallucinations to Mal before because — well, because of obvious reasons. So this was … not a hallucination. Alina’s heartbeat stuttered.

The Darkling unfolded himself from the chair, making no noise as he did — he wasn’t corporally there at all. “It seems our connection has been expanded. The science is small, but not always exact —fascinating, but unfortunate.” He glanced at Mal. “I’ve never cared for you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Mal gritted out.

The Darkling looked back at her and cocked his head. “How did this happen, Alina? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” she snapped.

“You did kill us both,” Mal pointed out. Alina cringed again, though Mal had always retained his typical good humor about it — he often joked that there were enough people to start an official Alina Starkov Killed Me with a Knife to the Chest club, though meetings would be lonely since there was only one surviving member.

But now, it seemed, there were two.

“Perhaps it’s a different sort of connection.” The Darkling ignored the look Mal gave him, his eyes searching hers. His voice was low when he said: “What else do you have in there, Alina? What else are you capable of?”

He began to walk towards them and Alina grabbed the back of Mal’s shirt, pulling him back towards her. “Don’t let him touch you,” she said, her voice low and urgent. She needed to keep his view of their surroundings blurry, keep their location secret. She couldn’t risk him coming back to Keramzin again — a wave of nausea passed through her at the thought.

Mal furrowed his brow at her. Before she could explain, the Darkling’s lips ticked up in amusement. “Since when did you not want me to touch you during these visits?”

Not helpful. “You’re dead,” she shout-whispered, keeping her volume well in check. The Black Heretic himself may have shown up in her living room, but getting Alexei to sleep had taken forty-five minutes and Saints help her if would be provoked into waking that kid up.

“Dead? Ah yes, the knife.” A lungless sigh. “Did you really think I would be so easily disposed of? Did you think that would be the end of our story?”

The answers to those questions were yes and of course respectively, though she didn’t feel the need to share. Beside her, Mal squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

The Darkling quirked his mouth. “That wasn’t the first time I’ve been stabbed in the chest, you know.”

“We should do it again,” suggested Mal.

The Darkling leaned forward, the bait painfully obvious. “Go ahead.”

Alina scampered backwards and pulled her husband with her before he could compromise their position. “I said don’t let him touch you,” Alina hissed.

The Darkling lowered his eyelids. “Careful, Alina. He’ll start to have questions about exactly what that means.”

“We don’t have secrets between us,” Mal said.

“Does Alina think that?”

“What do you want, Aleksander?” Both of the men’s heads whipped towards her, one with eyes narrow, the other eyes wide, and she realized she’d just proven the Darkling’s point rather nicely.

“I wanted to see you.” He raised an eyebrow, letting her know that he remembered when she’d given that same response. Strange how only a few years could seem like a lifetime. “Rather, I wanted to see if I still could.”

“You’ve gotten your answer, now get out,” Mal said.

“Not so quickly, little cousin,” he countered without bothering to look at Mal at all. “Unless, Alina, you want to make me?”

Her fingers twitched. If she could Cut him away, she would, but … “You know I can’t,” she whispered.  

The storm of his eyes didn’t reach his voice. “I couldn’t have come here if you hadn’t had any power left to call to me. If you still hadn’t felt a connection between us. Maybe it was just a memory, of how it felt to have my …” of course he chose this moment to finally look at Mal, “… powers, inside you.”

It was one thing for her ex-nemesis and occasional makeout partner to show up in her home; it was another thing for him to make sexual innuendos while staring her husband in the eye. She grabbed Mal as he lunged and tugged him with her towards the doorway, ready to flee if they needed.

Alina glared at the Darkling. “Last time I’ll ask: what. do. you. want.”

“I want to know what else you’re capable of. I didn’t expect to be able to visit you, but here I am. What other surprises are you hiding?”

“I’m hiding surprises? You’re the one who’s supposed to be dead.”

“I’ve come back.” He pointed his chin at Mal. “Even he’s come back. Have you?” Then softer: “Where are you, Alina?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at the palace.”

“Impossible,” said Mal.

The Darkling’s lips quirked, his gaze still on Alina. “Improbable. I’m a guest of your king — you could come see me any time you like.” A pause. “Maybe leave the tracker behind when you do.”

“Death didn’t seem to cure you of being a jerk,” Alina said.

“And you’ve lost none of your feistiness.” His eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, considering. “If the King asked you to fight with me –”

Mal interrupted: “We will never be on your side.”

“There was a time when Alina wasn’t so eager to disavow me.” The Darkling smiled, an expression that would have been wistful if it weren’t so smug. “A time when she wouldn’t have found a life with you quite … satisfying enough.”

“That is it,” screamed Alina. “Get out.” She lifted her hands and flung them down, slicing, her muscle memory still remembering the Cut even if her powers had disappeared on the Fold.

There was a crack and a flash of light, and the Darkling disappeared.

Alina stared at the empty space where he had been, her whole body thrumming with sensation she hadn’t felt in years, those hungry parts of her starting to wake up, starting to say more and starting to say MORE. In case there had been any question about what had just happened, the carpet where the Darkling had been was sliced with a deep burn.

The Darkling was back. Alina’s power was back. And Mal — his own powers may have returned, too. There were too many unknowns, too many possibilities rushing through Alina’s head, and only one thing she knew for certain: the two of them staying at the orphanage put all the children at risk.

Alina and Mal stared at each other, wide eyed and silent. In the distance, Alexei began to wail.

“Shit,” said Alina.

“Shit,” agreed Mal. 

[maybebanks]

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 09

JJ Maybank x reader

⚠️: violence, assault, neg. self talk

Start: CH.01

((Full series masterlist at the bottom))

The small breeze caused your dress to wave at your feet. It was a long white dress, simple.

The sun was no longer hot, and the people were just starting to get comfortable in the midsummers environment.

You waved at Pope, who was standing with his father at his station. He smiled at you, but it quickly faded when your father approached you.

He was a different man, in public.

“You look beautiful tonight, darling,” your father spoke quietly.

You shivered, but didn’t make it obvious, “thank you,”

Your bruises were still aching, but makeup was a miracle concealer. And sometimes you even convinced yourself of your own lies.

Just wait until you’re 18. Then you can leave him.

You couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips when you saw Kie talking to Pope. The way she tugged at her dress with nerves.

The way Pope slapped himself in the forehead when he said something stupid.

“Hello Miss,” JJ’s voice suddenly appeared.

Your stomach dropped and you looked at your father, he was busy talking to Hayward.

Giving you an outlet to engage in conversation with JJ. You wanted to scold him for talking to you when your father was around, but his cute goofy smile prevented you.

“Hey,” you greeted quietly.

JJ knew why you were being timid, he glared daggers towards your father.

“So this is him huh?” JJ grumbled.

You grabbed JJ and pulled him farther away from your table, your father.

It was bound to happen at some point, but you wanted to push away the moment as far as possible. When your father met JJ.

“I hate him. If he was any other guy I swear he would-”

“He’s my dad,”

JJ raised his eyebrows at your response, but before he could argue, Kie threw her arm around you and started a different conversation.

You noticed JJ’s eyes light up at the sight of Sarah a few feet away.

“I gotta give Sarah this note! One sec guys,” JJ says, then runs towards the dancing area.

You decide to follow him, “Kie. Do you think Sarah hates me? For blaming that shit on her dad,” you asked.

“Y/n, don’t be so worried. Sarah may not believe it, but a man like that hurts people. I mean, maybe not in the same way as-“

“Hi Kie, Y/n,” Sarah says in a happy tone, she was blushing at the note, you wondered what was on it.

“Kie, Pope wanted you over at the bar,” she says.

Kie runs off.

“Sarah,” you cleared your throat, “I was hoping we could just talk-“

Before you could finish, Rafe suddenly stepped between you. His light blue suited shoulders covering your view of Sarah.

“Sarah! I hope you don’t mind, Y/n and I need to have a chat. Right this way, Y/n,” Rafe asked, you saw Topper was following you two.

“Rafe, get your hands off me. I don’t want to go anywhere with you. We don’t need to ‘chat’.”

Rafe chuckled, “I have some questions for you Y/n. And if you don’t answer them,” he paused to laugh lowly, “I’ll have my fun with you,”

He slowly traced a finger on your cheek. You turned away in disgust.

“You’re sick,” you spat. Then attempted to get away, but Rafe held you against the wall.

His hand covered your mouth and he pulled you inside, finally stopping at the boys bathroom/locker room.

No one noticed anything strange along the way. Which made you hate kook life even more.

“I really thought she’d be more scared,” Rafe shrugged, “you’re really taking the fun out of this babe,”

“Fuck you! Asshole,” you squirmed again.

“Aw man I just got serious deja vu...oh right! We were doing this before! But then my dad rudely interrupted us, wanna explain that?”

“Maybe I’m the daughter he always wanted,” you answer sourly.

Someone else laughed, “you’ve got fire, no wonder Maybank likes you,” it was Kelce, you recognized him from before.

“I’m not doing anything for either of you. So fuck off and let me go!” You shouted.

Yet again, they covered your mouth. They chucked when they saw how week you look. Rafe advanced towards you. His nails scratched your skin slightly when he pulled the hem of your dress up over your waist.

He pulled at your underwear by your hip, then let go. It snapped back and sent a shock.

You yelped.

“Shh!” Rafe said, pushing his finger against your lips.

///

“Have you seen Y/n?” JJ asked Pope and Hayward.

“Good to see you to JJ,” Hayward chuckled.

“No I haven’t. Maybe ask her Dad?” Pope offered, gesturing towards your father, in his own area of service.

JJ scoffed, “That man wouldn’t help me even if I asked. Plus Y/n told me not to talk to him,”

“Yeah but she could be in trouble,” Pope said uncomfortably.

“What kind of trouble? This is Midsummers...” JJ said, scanning the environment once again.

Pope shrugged, “Shit, I haven’t seen Rafe and-“

“Hey guys!” Kie says, “I just got done talking with my mom, and I fucking saw Sarah and John B kissing. And he told me they weren’t macking,”

“Yeah that’s great Kie,” JJ says sarcastically, he wasn’t worried about that, he was deeply concerned about you. He couldn’t help it.

“We can’t find Y/n, have you seen her?” Pope asks Kie.

“No, I last saw her talking with Sarah. But that was like 10 or so minutes ago,”

Suddenly, Kie stiffens, and Pope gasps. They notice your dad approaching them.

“Just..act frickin normal,” Kie mutters.

JJ clenches his fists at his side, but tries to keep his mind at ease. All he could imagine is your fathers fists, that swung at his side, hitting your delicate self.

He was only 3 feet away.

“Kids,” he nodded, his voice was scratchy and intimidating. He recognized the pogues as the ones Y/n spent some time with.

“Hello Sir,” Pope says.

“Where is my daughter? She talks to you lot doesn’t she?” Your father said, his time communicated that he was annoyed.

“She...um Y/n is probably inside. I haven’t seen her,” Kie guesses.

Your father grumbles at the I sure response and moves on. Turning around and leaving the group.

JJ heads over to Sarah, who is dancing with her little sister.

JJ clears his throat to get her attention, “Sarah Cameron,”

“Huh? Oh hey. JJ?”

“Kie said she saw you with Y/n, where did she go?” JJ asks.

“Umm...” Sarah trails off, “she went to go talk with Rafe,” Sarah says causally.

“What? Oh fuck,” JJ muttered quickly, he didn’t have time to scold Sarah. She probably thought highly of her brother, and Jj didn’t care that much to have an argument.

JJ continued to mutter profanities as his head darted in all directions. Looking for you. Finally, he concluded you were inside, the only place he hadn’t looked.

His pace picked up as he approaches the door.

\\\

His footsteps were heavy against the hardwood floors. Your father’s temper was only building when each attempt to find you was unsuccessful.

Until he heard it.

Your scream.

He hadn’t heard it in a while. You used to scream when your father first hit you, but after you realized that didn’t help much, you stopped.

But nonetheless, your father was right outside the bathroom. And you were inside.

Your father stormed inside the bathroom and followed the direction of your grunts and struggles.

It took him a moment to decide how to handle the scene infront of him.

Three boys in pastel suits stood around another two boys restraining you against the wall. You put up a good fight, they held your legs and arms down. And a final boy, who seemed to be the leader was clearly making unwanted advances on you.

Your dress was mangled, a sign that the boys were interested in fucking with you, a sexual way being the best to get on your nerves.

“Hey!” Your father shouted. You flinched at the familiarity. And you noticed the boys around you tense in nervousness.

The restraints released you and some of the boys scurried out of the room.

Rafe, on the other hand, thought he could talk his way out of it.

“Hello Sir, look I know this looks bad, but-“

“Get out of my sight you little bastards,” your father stated.

Rafe visibly gulped, “she-uh she was asking for it! Her and her little pogue friends have a fire arm in possession. My friends and I were just calling it in. Figured it would be on her!”

At a kegger a while back, JJ was stupid enough to pull the gun on Topper. You never thought about the consequences, you knew JJ saved John B’s life and had initially backed his decision.

Your father had his eyebrows knit in suspicion, “a gun?”

“Yes, we were just looking for it, for safety reasons,” Topper adds, his voice cracking slightly, but it wasn’t noticeable.

Your Dad approaches you and grabs your arm aggressively and pulls you towards him. Your shoulder collides with his chest as you both walk out of the room.

You know you should apologize, but your mouth is frozen shut. Your father now knows that you went behind his back and made friends, but not your friends ‘got you into trouble’. You were sure he would kill you.

“Where is the gun?” Your father demands to know. He has stopped in a secluded area near the bathrooms. You could tell he wanted to yell at you.

“They were lying-“ your voice was cut off with a slap. Your cheek stung and was surely tinting pink.

“Where is the damn gun,” he repeats.

You couldn’t exactly tell him JJ had it, you weren’t a snitch and you didn’t want him to hate JJ.

When you didn’t answer he scoffed and proceeded to choke you. With one hand wrapped easily around your neck.

“St-stop,” you pleaded.

“I know about the kids from the south side with a gun. Now that I know it was you, you tell me where that damn thing is before it causes more fucking problems!” he seethed, you felt his hot breath on your face. It smelled like beer. Drinking on the job could get him fired.

Next, a new figure appeared through your tears and shoved your fathers death grip away.

“Hey man! Get off of her!” You heard JJ shout.

You stood frozen again, your feet planted against the wall. You helplessly touched your neck tenderly.

Your father and JJ wouldn’t get in a full fight would they?

“Dad? Dad please, let’s just go. Please,” you tell him.

He shoves JJ back, fast, and sends a right jab punch to his eye. You gasp and bite your tongue, desperately wanting to aid to JJ.

“We’re leaving,” he grumbled. Grabbing your arm harshly and yanking it, “thanks to you whoring around, Mr. Maybank here could ruin your fucking life,” he spat.

He was referring to what he’d seen. JJ already knew about the abuse, and if it ever got out it could ruin your life. But you made him promise not to tell anyone.

“He won’t say anything,” you assure, humbly.

“Why ‘cause you jerked him off a few times? You can’t count on anyone! You hear? Now get home, you’re done being social for the day,”

You wanted to scream in his face. He can’t just assume you gave yourself up in sexual ways at every turn. JJ was loving, he was the best male figure in your life.

You wondered about what made your father this way. He had trust issues, patriarchal issues, and he made it clear that he’d rather have a son than a daughter. After your mother died, he was stuck with you. All your life you’ve been a burden.

You sulked, keeping your eyes on your toes. You wanted to look back at JJ. But even something as small as that, could earn something as big as a broken rib.

You decided to head out the back so you wouldn’t have to lie to Kie and Pope.

When you reached out for the door handle, you couldn’t stop your hand from shaking. You wanted to collapse, tears were at the brim.

“Can I help you?” Ward offers.

You take a defensive step back. You were standing at the door longer than you thought. And Ward had seen you struggling. He was still desperate to convince you he wasn’t a bad guy.

“Um-I...no, I got it. Thank you,” you answer. Sniffling a little, your mind scolding you at the lack of confidence you are presenting.

“Y/n, I know the two of us don’t exactly-“

“Ward. I can’t be talking to you. I’m sorry. But my dad would kill me. And I have to go,” you blurt.

Ward nods slowly and reaches out to pull the door open for you.

“Keep Rafe the hell away from me,” you tell him before leaving.

—the next day

You showed up almost an hour late to work. Not caring enough to make up an apology or excuse you quickly got to work.

After a while of bussing tables, you ran into Kie and JJ. You quickly turned the other direction to avoid them. But Pope and John B met you on the other side.

“What the hell happened? Y/n?” Pope asked, as if you owed it to them.

You didn’t feel like explaining, you wouldn’t be able to find the words.

You turned the other way again and started to walk quickly. But unfortunately, Kie and JJ were right there to stop you.

“Um, hey...” you trailed off. You looked around as your four friends cornered you.

But your heart practically stopped when you saw JJ. The region around his eye was decorated with a large purple splotch. It was difficult, but your eyes stung like you were about to cry.

You wished to step to him and caress his injury, tell him you’re sorry.

But you didn’t.

“Guys what the hell. I’m working,” you made an excuse.

“What happened at Midsummers?” John B repeated.

“Um..my dad and I got into an argument. It was fine though,” you lied. JJ got hurt, it wasn’t fine. If he hadn’t tried to help you, he would be fine.

“Y/n, Sarah said that Rafe-“

Something about the situation made you angry, you felt trapped.

“I handled it.” You deadpanned.

“What did that son of a bitch do?” JJ asked, he was just being protective. That was who he was.

Your thoughts went back to the gun. If JJ hadn’t exposed the fact, no one would know. And Rafe wouldn’t have gotten away with what he did to you.

You stepped towards JJ, not being intimidated by his height, you still got angry at him.

“What is wrong with you?!” You shouted. Adding a shove against JJ’s chest.

“Y/n-“

“No! Why did you do it?! I didn’t need you to save me!” You were referring to how JJ got that black eye, he jumped in for you. And got himself in it with your dad.

“What are you talking about? He was choking you,” JJ defended.

“You shouldn’t have done that,”

“I can live with him hating me, Y/n,” JJ says.

“Well I can’t!” you shouted. You nearly flung your hand over your mouth in surprise. You didn’t exactly know why you said that. And JJ didn’t either. Maybe it was the inner you telling him that you loved him. And couldn’t live with the fact that because you love him, your father would hurt you.

“Wh-“ JJ started, but quickly you cut him off.

“Whatever. I have to get back to work,” You mumbled. Moving past Kie and returning to the kitchen.

“Shit,” you heard Pope mutter.

You never wanted your home life to connect with the life you had with your friends. But here you were.

Around 20 minutes later, you stood alone on the dock. Watching the seagulls beg for food from the outdoor diners.

“I’m sorry,” you heard. It was JJ. He mirrored your actions of leaning on the dock.

You turned to face him. But looked away again when you noticed his dotted eye.

“Me too,” you responded.

“Um..Ward is John B’s legal gaurdian now,” JJ begins changing the conversation.

You give him a confused look and he chuckles.

“Yeah, uh, he offered. And it protects him from DCS. So we don’t have to worry about John B’s house. Just thought you should know,” JJ shrugs.

You looked in the opposite direction again. JJ was so sweet, every little thing he did. And you didn’t deserve it.

You should leave him alone, there are so many better girls he should be talking to. You’ll ruin him.

“I just wanna protect you. I don’t know why. It’s just like...every damn bone in my body draws me to you and if anyone touches you I...lose it,” JJ explains out of nowhere, like he could read your mind.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” you say, quietly.

JJ grips the railing, “that’s the problem! I can’t-I should’ve...I can’t let you go through that too. Your his daughter. And I mean, it still sucks if a son goes through it. But how does he bring himself to hurt you?”

“You really what me to answer that?” You pause, “I remind him of my mom. I remind him of the event that caused everything to go wrong. If I wasn’t alive-“

JJ cuts you off abruptly, “No. You can’t think like that. If you weren’t alive I would die. I need you Y/n. I dont know how you do it. But you’re a survivor. And I love ya for it,” he smiles softly.

You swing your arms around his neck and he pulls you by the waist into his torso. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and hug him tight.

It all happens so fast. At first you were hugging JJ, enjoying the embrace of the teenage boy you loved.

But then you saw him. In his messy blond hair. Rafe was so close. Your hallucination messed with your mind when JJs fingers touched your waist.

Instantly you pushed JJ back. Muttering in fear.

“Please, wait wait wait...” you said quietly your break picking up.

“Hey, hold up. What’s wrong?” JJ asks, stepping closer.

“No!” You exlaimed. Pushing your hand up to stop him.

“Y/n, I’m not your dad,” JJ reached out.

“Get back. Please,” you whimpered.

“Y/n, come on, it’s me!” JJ was confused. He grabbed your face and moved you toward his eyes.

“Let go of me Rafe!” You shouted, you failed to see him. JJ was utterly sad, but now he knew you didn’t mistake him for your dad.

He knew something went down between you and Rafe. Now he just had to figure out how to get you to tell him.

Chapter 10

Taglist: @p0gue420 @kristinaxilliano @belledutchess @maebanks @omgpankow @kaylinfayezink @dolanfivsosxox @thesurfingsnail @obsessedweirdo @dudebroskiprn @milked-down-coffee @jjsthumbring @retr0babey @traumaflavouredjuulpod @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @popcrone818 @stellastars22 @runway-to-my-aid tumblr is a crack idiot and wont let me tag some of u babes. SO SORRY YALL🤍

Happy midsummers! (It was June 24)🏄 I was not anticipating this to be a series so I low key hate the title now...

Chapter 01

Chapter 02

Chapter 03

Chapter 04

Chapter 05

Chapter 06

Chapter 07

Chapter 08

Chapter 09

Chapter 10

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 2

The Meet Cute - Part 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, fluff gone sour (?) Read on to know what I mean

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part! Read the previous part here.

Although you had a few lightweight drinks, not wanting to get too turnt in front of strangers, you’re not really sure how you ended up here: In the middle of the dance floor, spinning, stepping and outright getting down with Chris motherfucking Evans.

It may have started with your light buzz, then a declaration of “that’s my song!!!” on your behalf, then Chris following you like a wide eyed puppy.

A mellower song plays. Yours and Chris’ energy comes down some, chemistry lingering. You simultaneously notice you’re holding hands and become all too aware of yourselves. Meaningless “ums” and “uhs” fill the air until you excuse yourself to the restroom, but not before you exchange shy smiles with Chris.

You freshen up in the mirror and take a moment to reflect on the night, on meeting Chris, with his tall, muscular frame, genuine smile, heart warming laugh, and blue eyes you could just drown in… Get a grip, SIS! You’re supposed to be meeting industry professionals, not fawning over snackable superheroes, no matter how charming. What time is it even…?

Pawing at your person for a sign of your phone, you realize you might have left it at the bar. Ugh, I hope no one took it. Who am I kidding? Rich people don’t steal phones… right?

You hurriedly rush out of the bathroom, but stop short at the sight of a boyish-looking Chris, hands tucked in his pockets. For the second time tonight, you both take a moment to take each other in. You don’t realize it, but you hold your breath as his eyes scan your hair, your eyes…her nose, her lips, her skin—

“You found it!”

“Huh?”

“My phone! Thank God! I don’t know what I’d do without it!” You say as you point to the black, sparkly device poking out of his pocket. It only became visible when Chris subconsciously went to rub his beard, under a trance at the sight of you. 

“Yeah, the bartender found it. I told her I’d give it to you.”

You go to retrieve it from his pocket, but stop short again, reminding yourself you shouldn’t be that handsy with him. He takes that as a cue, and returns the phone to its rightful owner.

You check the time. 1:39 am. Yeesh.

“I know, right?” It must’ve shown on your face. “I didn’t even notice half the party cleared out,” he says while looking at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You chuckle lightly as you take in your surroundings for the first time in God knows how many hours. Had I really lost track of time, giggling with him all night? Yes sis, you did.

Tens of people are scattered about, trash is being cleaned up, and some of the younger staff are taking advantage of the photo-op area. Meanwhile, Chris is rambling about something, cutely at that, but you don’t tune in until he asks, “Do you?”

“Do I…”

He chuckles and says, “Have a place to stay in Boston yet? I always wait until the last minute to find a place when I’m filming out of town.”

You cock your brow. “Are you offering?”

“Ha! No ma’am! I enjoy my bachelor’s pad how it is. Just me and my best boy, Dodger.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mmhmm, just a pair of dysfunctional, male codependents.”

“So, it’s a no girls allowed ordeal?”

“No, it’s just--”

“A different girl every night, and they’re on their merry way by morning?”

“No--”

“Oh, so--”

“WILL YOU LET ME TALK?! Jeez woman...” You both giggle at your antics and his feigned frustration. He rakes a hand through his hair before he begins again, but you attempt to cut him off one last time for fun. “Wow, ok!” He makes like he’s going to walk away, but you catch him by the wrist to keep him in place.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry!” You say between laughs and tugs on his arm. “Look, I’ll zip it,” Chris turns to you as you mime zipping and locking your lips. He puts his free hand out, not wanting to lose this physical contact with you, motioning for the imaginary key. You oblige. 

“Thank you, and for good measure...” he tucks the “key” in his pocket. You’re admiring the deep, rich tone of his voice when he gently places his hand over your mouth, his other hand still in your hold. Your brain is short-circuiting and your heart is skipping several beats.

“I was going to say,” wow, your eyes are just... wow.  “It’s more like a different girl every other night, gone by dawn.” 

You scoff and swat his hand away from your mouth, and now you both laugh at his antics. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he quickly reassures, as if you couldn’t tell it was a joke. 

“No, I just really value my space, ya know? Not that I don’t appreciate guests, because I really do! You should see me; I host a WICKED game night.”

“Oh, I bet.”

“I just have to be... never mind. That’s more than what you asked for.”

“No, no, what is it? You can tell me.”

“I guess, I just have to be… selective, about who I invite into my--”

“Game night?”

“You’re quite the smart ass, huh?” You smirk and shrug, but it’s true: you love to crack jokes-- good or bad, for better or for worse-- especially with people you’re comfortable with. We’re not that comfortable, though. We just met.

“I get it, though, truly. Especially in this line of work,” You pause for a moment, fiddling with your fingers before you ask, “Don’t you ever feel like you can’t tell someone’s intentions? Like, you can’t tell if someone wants to be around you for you or... for what they think they’ll get in return. It’s just easier to stay in your own, comfortable bubble sometimes. I don’t know…”

The way you asked made Chris think you were looking for some words of advice more than agreement. “Well, sussing out someone’s intentions is difficult, but gets easier with experience. And not just experience with dealing with a bunch of slimes balls, but experience in listening, trusting your gut when it talks to you.” He gives you a warm smile, and you give a half one back, the thoughts of your very recent past preventing your smile from being full, bright, the way Chris came to know it tonight. In that moment, he found himself missing it.

Sensing the heaviness, Chris changes the subject, “So, uh… have any plans after this?” 

“At damn near 2 am?”

”Clearly you’ve never hung out in New York because this is considered too early to go home. This city never sleeps, ya’know? ‘S how it got the nickname.”

“No, I didn’t know that! Thanks for the tip.”

“Yeah, yeah of course, anytime.” The sarcastic back-and-forth leave you two smiling and gazing in each other’s eyes. Why do we keep doing this?

You clear your throat, “But, uh, no… well yes. Heading back to the hotel to get some Z’s. Gonna be at iHeartRadio tomorrow for a show, and I have to be alert for it.” You serve an overexaggerated focus face, to which he laughs at.

“Well, you could always have coffee.”

“Mm-mm, nope, no coffee for me. I’m still hoping to grow a few more inches.”

He sizes you up, “I don’t know, I think you’re just about done sprouting, Kid.”

“What did I say about calling me that?”

He drops his head a little and pouts his lip like a sad puppy, “Only Mackie can call you that...”

“Right! Don't make me tell you again. There won’t be a third time. Just, a consequence I have not thought of yet.” He lightly laughs as you continue, “Anyways, it’s an acoustic set, and I need real energy, real focus, ‘cos I feel like mistakes are far more noticeable when it’s stripped back, and I gotta be all here for it,” you tap your temple.

He nods, “Not only a smart ass, but quite the critic, too? Dangerous combination.” You shrug again. What can you say? You’re particular when it comes to music. “An acoustic set though— should be awesome! Who’s playing?”

...uuuummmm…  You start and stop your reply a couple of times, before awkwardly laughing. Maybe he’s just messing with me… “It’s a secret,” you say with a wink.

“Hey! Kid, Captain Little Ass! I’ve been texting both of you! Come over here for a picture!” Mackie’s booming voice bursts your bubble, and the two of you make your way over. Scott, Ansel, Jaden, and a few other people who you probably should’ve met tonight are huddled in conversation. Mackie approaches you with his phone.

“You mind snapping a few pics of me and the boys? We’ll do a couple poses and then I wanna get you in there.” 

“Oh, it would be my utmost pleasure to snap some ‘pics’ of you and ‘the boys’.” 

While they sort out their poses, you make with unlocking Mackie’s phone. It opens to Mackie’s and Chris’ text chain, and what you see sinks your heart a little bit. Well, damn. 

“Hey Kid, we’re ready,” Chris says with a smirk that quickly dissipates when you unintentionally scowl at him, stewing in your thoughts. He thinks it’s because you really don’t like the nickname, but boy is he so wrong.

Anthony was insistent on getting you in a picture, no matter how many times you declined saying you weren’t “picture ready”, when really you were too annoyed to prolong this night any longer. He waved over one of the gawking busboys, no doubt in awe of being in the same room as Shmaptin Shmerica.

As you handed the busboy the phone, he whispered he was a “big fan”, Oh. Really?, and “couldn’t believe” he was meeting you. You thanked him with a kind smile and offered to get a picture with him afterwards, Chris watching the endearing interaction. I’ll have to ask her what she’s been in so I can watch it.

Chris watched you as you scanned the group for a good spot to fit in, then go in the opposite direction of where he stood. After a few snaps, Chris yells, “EVERYBODY: NEW SPOTS, NEW POSE!!” Everyone scurries around, but you being stubborn, stay put. He inevitably finds his way to you, but you ignore his presence.

A few more pictures are taken. Everyone’s smiling their Hollywood smiles, but then there’s you on the end, just mean mugging. On the last picture, Chris puts his arm around your shoulders. The nerve, the GALL, the cologne… no, NO! Get it together! When the photos are done, you quickly go over to the busboy and make good on your promise of a picture with him. You can feel Chris’ eyes on you.

After a couple of selfies, Chris offers to take a picture for you both. When your fan is satisfied with the picture and gets back to work, Chris comes over to resume conversation with you, but you’re too in your head to hear him. You just see his plump, pink lips moving. Damn him and his good looks, and perfect lips and—

“How’s that sound?”

“How’s what sound?”

“Coffee— in Boston.”

“I’m sure there is some, but I thought y’all were more known for your tea parties.” He laughs and your breath is arrested by the beautiful sound, deepening your conflicted feelings. He seems so genuine, but the texts…

“I meant, when we’re both back in Boston, going out for coffee— with me?”

If he would text that, what does he want so badly to see me again for? *gasp* He must think I’m a quick fu— “Why?”

He’s taken aback by your curtness. What does she mean ‘why’? I thought we had a good time tonight, and I want to see her again… “Because ‘here’s to good company’, remember?” He recounts your toast from earlier in the evening, raising his hand to mime a glass in the air for emphasis. He lets his hand fall awkwardly at the sight of your unamused face.

“Good company, huh? Even for a ‘airheaded wannabe’?”

What is she talk… It hits him like a ton of bricks. 

It’s you. YOU are the musician girl Mackie and Scott wanted him to meet. YOU are the one playing the set tomorrow, and that’s why you have fans wanting pictures with you. But most of all, YOU had seen his blind judgments of you. FuuuuUUUUUUcccckkk.

“Shit. Listen, I—“

“Have to call it a night and get some rest. Wouldn’t want hot air to be the only thing coming out of my mouth tomorrow. Good night, Chris.” With that, you quickly brush past him, and walk over to say goodbyes to your co-stars. You all share your excitement for starting filming next week, and they wish you well on your show tomorrow.

You make your way to the elevator, but not before you look back for Chris, who’s nowhere to be found. You hoped you’d see his face, and there’d be a look in his eyes that would tell you that tonight wasn’t a waste, that he was as genuine as you’d read him to be and that you’d only read those texts wrong. 

But those blue eyes weren’t around for you to drown in. You figured he went somewhere to be pissed about his efforts coming up fruitless. No different than the rest.

Part 3

[sunshineharrry]

All Better

in which your son says some naughty words and dad!Harry is a the best dad

“This is fucking bullshit,” you hear your fifteen year-old mutter and you practically yelp from across the kitchen. 

“What did you just say!” You squeak. You’ve got a baby bouncing on your chest and a seven and eleven-year-old at the bar watching between you carefully, the older of the two with her jaw dropped. Harry is at the kitchen table with the twins who are too far engrossed in the cartoon on the tv to hear your son’s profanity, but you both seem to have caught it. 

Your son, Jack, freezes up, obviously not expecting you to have heard him. He turns around, facing his parents.

“Excuse me?” Harry snaps, his stern voice causing the two children at the bar to snap their heads in their father’s direction. 

“I-I didn’t mean to,” your eldest stammers. “It slipped.” 

“You’re about to be grounded for two weeks,” You snap. His brow wrinkles and his lip snares, just like his father’s does when he’s angry. 

“It’s just not very fair that—“

“Life’s not fair, mate, and I’d watch the way you talk to your mum if I was you,” Harry cuts him off. Jack gapes at Harry, looking at him like he’s got two heads. Harry hardly ever has to use his stern voice with your eldest, they’re more like lads than anything. “go to your room.” 

 “Are you serious, dad?” He gapes.

 “Yes, I’m bloody serious! Go!” Harry’s yelling now and the baby lets out a wail at her daddy’s outburst. 

 “Jesus Christ,” Jack mutters, stomping out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom, but not before getting the last word in with, “This family is such a joke!” 

 Harry glares after him as he leaves and his nostrils flare when he hears your son slam his bedroom door. If not for the two toddlers on his lap you think he would have chased after him. 

 The kitchen is filled with an awkward tension between the two girls sitting at the counter finishing their breakfast and you and Harry, but you busy yourself with trying to calm the baby. 

 “Sorry, girls,” Harry says after a moment. “Didn’t mean to yell.” 

 “S’alright, Daddy,” the seven-year-old, Allie, says. “He said naughty words.” 

 “Yes, and we don’t say naughty words, ‘specially to our Mumma,” Harry nods. “He’ll have to apologize to her.” 

 “Harry,” you say, handing the baby off to Laney, the eleven-year-old. “Could I speak to you in our room?” 

 Harry settles the almost four-year-olds onto the table bench and follows you down the hall to your bedroom. He doesn’t notice the tears in your eyes til he’s shut the door behind himself.

 “Baby,” he frowns, reaching out to cup your face. “Don’t take it personally. He’s just a teenager. Teenagers can be wankers!” 

 “He’s usually so sweet, though! Maybe I was being unreasonable. Maybe we should push back his curfew thirty minutes, so he’ll be on time.” 

 “Woah, woah, woah,” Harry shakes his head. “We can’t reward him for being late. He was an hour late and he didn’t call. He knows the rules, he broke them, and he knew there would be consequences.” 

 “He’s fifteen, though, he’s just a kid—“

 “Kids have to follow the rules their mums and dads set, baby. We have six of ‘em, you should know that,” Harry teases, but he’s not bending on this, you can tell. 

 “He cursed at me,” You huff, your bottom lip trembling. “What happened to my sweet baby boy?” 

 Harry sighs and pulls you into his chest, petting your hair down with one of his hands. 

 “I know he upset you,” Harry says. “I bet he’s upstairs regretting it already. Even good kids slip up sometimes, but we’ve still got to punish him, alright? Or he’ll turn really rotten.” 

 You nod against his chest. He’s saying things you know. They’re things you’ve had to stress to him over the years. Harry is not great at enforcing rules and punishment upon children under the age of thirteen, it seems. 

 “Lemme go talk to him first, alright? I’ve got to apologize for shouting at him, anyways.” 

 You nod against Harry’s shirt and he presses a kiss to your head. When you exit the room, you head back to the kitchen to clean up breakfast and harry heads upstairs.

 Harry knocks twice on the door before opening it. Your son is in his rolling chair, sat facing away from his desk typing away at his phone, no doubt texting about how awful his life is to his mates. He swings around to face Harry, his face hard and angry. He looks so much like Harry’s younger self that it’s scary, but all Harry can see is his wife’s attitude seeping out of him and her bottom lip jutted out. 

 “Jack,” Harry says, stepping to his room and shutting the door behind him. He sits down on the bed and jack is swung to face him. “Let’s have a chat.” 

 “Is it going to be a chat or are you just going to shout at me?” 

 “When have I ever just sat her and shouted at you?” Harry snaps. Jack shrugs in response, looking close to uninterested, and Harry really did not come in here to shout, but his son may drive him to it. 

 “You’re at fault here,” harry frowns. “You missed curfew, pal. When you miss curfew on Friday you don’t get to go out on Saturday. You knew the rule and you broke it.” 

 “It was an accident,” he defends, sitting forward. “I said it won’t happen again.” 

 “I’m sure it won’t next weekend when you can go out again.” 

 “That’s so stupid!

 “You’re acting awful,” Harry states. “You were mean to your mum, argued with her, cursed at her, made her cry. She’s downstairs rethinking her parenting style and wondering if she’s capable of raising six kids because you called her family a joke.”

 For the first time since Harry’s come upstairs, his son’s anger cracks. He bites his lip and sits back, eyes looking a tad guilty.

 “Mum cried?”

 Harry nods.

 “Look, I get it if you have some teenage rage, or whatever. Hormones. But you won’t be mean to your mum. I won’t put up with it,” he says. “We discipline you because we love you, even if you don’t agree. Your curfew is reasonable, probably later than other kids your age. Your mum sits up for you to come home every time. When you’re an hour late, can you even imagine the scenarios she has playing in her head?” 

 “I-I didn’t think of it that way,” he stammers, starting to look sheepish. “I didn’t mean to upset her, really. I was speaking without thinking and being a dick.” 

 “I know,” harry agrees. “You’re a kid. Kids do stupid stuff. That’s why you have parents to correct your stupid behavior so that you don’t turn out to be a criminal.” 

 Jack cracks a smile at that. 

 “Sorry, dad,” he says sincerely. “For talking back and for being rude and for missing curfew.” 

 “S’alright, buddy, but I’m not who you ought to be apologizin’ to. She’s downstairs, probably researching books on how to parent because she thinks she’s failed you. Care to go ease her mind?” 

 When they climb down the stairs, Harry’s arm slung over his boy’s shoulders, they find the girls in the living room watching a movie with the two little twins tucked between them. It’s started to rain outside, but you’re sitting on the covered back porch on the sofa with the baby. She’s just finished her bottle and passed out on your chest. Harry is right, you’re scrolling through books on amazon about raising teenagers when they find you. 

 “Hi, angels,” Harry greets, stepping in front of you and reaching for the baby. “Let me go put this one down for her nap and you two talk.” 

 You hand her off to your husband and watch as your son takes a seat next to you on the sofa. 

 “Hi, mum,” he says softly. “Wanted to apologize for earlier and last night.” 

 You feel tears nip at your eyes and you let a corner of your mouth rise, nodding at him to continue. 

 “I was a real wanker. I should’ve been paying more attention to the time and I should’ve called when I realized how late I was. I shouldn’t have argued about the punishment and I really shouldn’t have cursed at you in the kitchen. Also, our family is not a joke. It can be a bit much, but it’s a good family. You’re a good mum, and I’m really sorry for upsetting you.” 

 The tears that formed throughout his rambling start to fall and he really looks sorry then. 

 “Oh, no, mum, don’t cry!” He says, leaning across the sofa and wrapping his arms around you. He’s just like Harry, you think, and almost laugh as he tucks you right into his chest and neck. He grew taller than you years ago, but it still makes your heart hurt that he’s so grown. 

 “‘M really sorry, mum,” he mumbles again, and you squeeze him back tight. 

 “S’alright, baby,” you sigh pulling back from his hug and kissing him right on the forehead. “Thank you for apologizing. It’s okay.” 

 “Okay, good. Love you, mum.” 

 “Love you more, Jacky.” 

 Harry opens the back door right about then. 

 “All better?” He asks, smiling down at you two. You wonder all the time how you got so lucky marrying that man fifteen years ago. 

 “All better,” you agree.

///

HI I’m trying to make myself express my creativity in quarantine and I’ve been dying to write again forever. This feels SO GOOD to finish and post even if it’s just a little fluff piece. I have like 100 unfinished ideas in my google docs, might just start trying to turn them into real projects. If you liked this please let me know!!!! xoxo AB