#and it seems like he's picked up the habit of flashing a peace sign in every photo just like me lol

[beautifully-lumpy]

words cannot even begin to express how much i adore this man

[adonis-koo]

Star Struck

| 1 |

↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut,

Word Count: 12k

Tags: before anyone asks, yes tentacles are involved because I’m a proud monster fucker, jungkook has separation anxiety from Mc :(, he’s immediately whipped, and he can’t speak any human language at first oops, he like,,,tries it for a second before MC goes 🏃‍♀️ this is unedited and for that im sorry bc yikes

___ | Next

In many cases, you could recall how you got into situations. For instance, when you were late to your mid morning lecture, you had zero excuses- not that the professor cared at all when you walked in with a bag of mcdonalds and a venti latte from starbucks. But the principle of the situation remained the same, you knew your actions would cause you to be late. You understood the consequences of your actions. 

The same could not be said for when you took in the curious male who didn’t understand a word you said.

“What do you mean you just- picked him up off the side of a fucking ditch!” Jimin flailed his hands as you twisted around to face you, the male was examining his hands as if he had never seen them before, not paying either of you any mind. 

You held up your hands as you replied, “I did!” You shouted back, immediately gaining the males attention as his eyes flashed between you and Jimin, “He was just…! Laying there! I don’t fucking know! What was I supposed to do? Leave him, look he’s hurt.” You pointed out the obvious wounds he sported. 

“...He’s bleeding black goo Y/n! Have you never seen a horror movie before oh my god!” Jimin grabbed his head as his voice became dramatic and peril, “You’re practically number one on his kill list! He’s probably here to abduct us and- and butt probe us or some shit!” 

You raised your brows defensively as you crossed your arms, “Look at him!” You pointed a finger at the male making him flinch a little, leaning a little away from you where he sat as his expression shifted, looking as if he was a kicked puppy at your tone, “Does that look like a butt probing alien to you shit face?” 

“Maybe!” Jimin snapped back, “He ain’t human that’s for fucking sure! Just…!” Jimin flailed his hands, “Just look at him!” 

You groaned as you rubbed your face, you knew it looked bad! You hadn’t meant to stumble across a body when you went out for your morning walk which you had been trying to do in an effort to be more mindful and healthy, but it seemed to only lead you to stressing the fuck out. 

You turned to look at the male, he looked anything but alien, well- for the most part. His eyes looked up at you almost glossy like, they were big and doe like, his lips plush and his hair dusted his eyes yet almost looked like a raven blue. 

He looked human, mostly. The part that threw you off was, for one the black goo that trickled down his skin- maybe if you were a photography major you’d scream how aesthetic it was and just take a picture before leaving him to die, but unfortunately this wasn’t the case and here you were. 

The other part of him was, well....the bits that glowed. You would’ve honestly mistook him for a horrible Avatar cosplayer that had a little too much last night had it not been for the black goo, the strip of glow emitted from his body all the way from his hands up his arms, and you assumed back to his shoulders as well. 

Most might have considered it tattoo’s and maybe you could pass it off as such if it weren’t for the constant soft hue purple, it shifted between blue occasionally but remained purple for most of the duration you had spent with him. 

“What the hell are you even gonna tell Seokjin!” Jimin grabbed his head as he began to pace, “He totally won’t let this- this thing stay with us!” 

You glared as you stomped over to the male who straightened a little, the marks on his skin suddenly tinging red as you turned to face Jimin, “Seokjin can shut the fuck up! And so can you! For all we know he’s just into special effects and can’t speak English you xenophobic fuck!” 

“I’m Korean you whore!” Jimin dramatically shouted as he walked across the apartment, for what reason? You weren’t sure other than to make a point and raise his voice, “I know Asian when I see it and that’s not it! I’m headed for class and when I get back he better be back in his fucking UFO.” 

You rolled your eyes as you kneeled down to look at the male, the marks had flared back to it’s constant state of purple once more as he blinked, “I’m sorry about him,” You apologized sheepishly, “He ah...he’s an asshole,” The male only tilted his head a little, “I’m...Y/n.” You felt a bit dumb talking to him. 

You didn’t want to assume he couldn’t understand you but...well...He just seemed so, curious, innocent even. His eyes peered around at his surroundings as if he had never seen them before. Not as if he hadn’t been in your home but, as if he had never sat on a bed, his body would bounce a little as if testing the springs only to find out they’d bounce and his eyes would light up. 

He had been playing with the light switch on the wall of the apartment when you first got home, he didn’t seem to understand you necessarily but he responded well to the tone of voice because when you told him to stop he seemed to understand. 

He had tried to speak a few times, but...Well, Jimin may have had a point, it didn’t sound like any Asian dialect, at all. It didn’t even sound like any language you had even heard of...Even if he looked like some sort of Asian ethnicity, which you supposed was the strangest part about this. He looked human, but he didn’t sound human. 

He spoke in a sort of throaty tongue that seemed frantic at first, but he must have quickly realized you couldn’t understand him and had opted to mute ever since, “What’s your name?” You asked, only to sigh in response as he blinked unsuspecting of whatever you had said. 

Sitting down in front of him you sighed, “Okay nevermind, we’ll figure out a name to give you meanwhile- hmmm, let’s get those fixed up yeah?” You stood up, noticing he wasn’t doing the same, leaning down you went to grab his hand. 

The marks on his arms suddenly lit in a deep maroon red as he jumped back making you screech- whatever thought of you assuming he was human went out the window at the sudden burst of...of....tentacles pushing out of his back and pulling in front of him like some sort of shield. 

“Woah! Woah holy shit, oh my god!” You flailed at the sight of his narrowed eyes and his defensive stance as you held out your hands in sign of peace, “I’m not going to hurt you! I- I just want to fix your wounds okay!” You fumbled out the words, “I’m your friend, yeah?” 

His eyes squinted a little further as he glanced between your hands and your hand, tentacles like you had seen- no you weren’t gonna go there- they looked almost- No. You weren’t gonna say it, you weren’t even gonna think it. They were almost glass like, but looked as soft as silk, probably deadly and something you shouldn’t touch. 

They restricted a little and much to your surprise he parted his lips as he slowly spoke, “...Friend…” As if testing the word on his lips. You raised your brows in surprise, if this man was an alien then...he was a really quick learner. 

You nodded rapidly as you spoke,” Yes! Yes! I’m a friend! Friend’s don’t hurt each other. Just...let me…” You slowly approached him, trying not to watch the four tentacles that emerged from his back keep your attention away from his face, the markings on his arms glowed a dimmer red, as if his initial reaction calmed down, slowly it melted back into a soft purple hue as his eyes carefully watched you grab his hand as you repeated, “Friend.” You gave it a little squeeze, his brows furrowing as he looked at his much larger hand encasing yours, to your face before back to your hand which held his. 

“Friend.” He echoed back tilting his head a little before his eyes suddenly lit up in understanding, nodding frantically he replied, “Friend!” His expression of anger was like the night to the day of his smile, which was bright and almost childlike, as if he suddenly realized what the term friend meant, “Friend!” He squeezed your hand back causing you to squeak at the immense strength he had, the symbol that curved on his hand suddenly shifted to a dark grey as his eyes quickly became worried.

“Friend?” His voice gentler this time as he stood up, practically towering over you as he peered down as if you were a little puppy, concerned he had hurt you. 

“I’m okay!” You nodded, feeling your voice a pitch higher and your face felt hot despite knowing full and damn well you were not going to fuck this alien, yet you had definitely watched too much hentai in your life to at least not let the thought cross your mind once. He was good looking, by human definition anyways, “Lets um...let’s just get you into the living room.” 

Curiously he followed you before you had him sit on the couch, he gave a little bounce to the cushion as his brows furrowed before his lower lip jutted into a pout- obviously realizing this surface wasn’t bouncy….How could an alien be in your house, who nearly killed you with the tentacles from his back….look like this...

You briefly wondered this question as you frowned, grabbing the first aid kit before sitting back down beside him, his marks suddenly glowing purple as his eyes curiously watched you pull out a rubbing alcohol wipe, you paused as you looked at his big doe eyes that looked at you so innocently...If he reacted violently to his hand being held you knew damn well this was going to be a bitch to convince him you weren’t trying to kill him…

“Look…” Your voice drew his eyes to yours as he focused on your words, “This is gonna...hurt...a lot okay…?” You offered a semi awkward half smile, gesturing to your own bicep where it was bleeding on him before gesturing to him, “Pain…” You nodded a little, making him nod, his eyes darting to his own before back to you but you could tell by the look in his eyes he had no idea what you meant.

“Pain.” You pinched his skin making him jolt, his eyes darting between your small fingers and you as he frowned, marks mixing with purple and red, “Pain…?” He mumbled, rubbing a hand on his head, suddenly he began speaking in his tongue, his voice deeper and throater then when he repeated anything in english. 

Maybe talking to himself, he wasn’t looking at you as he sighed, “Pain.” He spoke more firmly as he looked at you, seemingly a little lost, you held up the wipe as you gave a defeated smile, “Pain.” You nodded, knowing he would definitely understand what the word meant once you got this over with. 

To say he reacted violently, was a very poor understatement. 

His marks were lit up a bright red and his tentacles had emerged from his back once and he practically flew to the other end of the couch in defense as he howled in pain as he examined the large wound on his bicep, “Friend!” He cried out in anger, eyes glaring at you and tentacles covering his body as if he was a wounded animal. 

He had ended up destroying a few knick knacks around the house, a chair and a few photo frames while you attempted to chase after him in effort to clean his wound while he ran away like a puppy avoiding a bath. Obviously he knew you weren’t dangerous enough to try and hurt but...it seemed his pain tolerance was...extremely low. 

Eventually you had gotten him to behave and sit down, as he glared at the floor, marks glowing yellow as you felt him wince and jolt with every dab of the wipe, “Friend.” he mumbled with gritted teeth before he spoke in his native tongue, something you assumed was probably not so nice at you. 

“The feeling is mutual pal.” You muttered, not knowing what he said but knowing, deep in your heart, your feelings were most definitely the same to one another. He did little to resist your touch afterwards, eyes furrowing as he watched you carefully bandage his wound, occasionally he’d poke- not at the wound but the bandage, his fingers would pinch the material and he’d cock his head as if examining it. 

“Have…” You frowned a little as you tilted your head, gaining his attention, “Have you never been to Earth?” You were going to be extremely upset if you woke up in twelve hours and Jimin told you that you were on an extreme LSD trip and you just imagined a really hot alien in your head. 

His eyes lit up in the same way they had earlier, “Earth?” He raised his brows, lips parting before he suddenly looked around again, “Earth!?” He suddenly cried out as he stood up, looking around before going to the window and peaking out of the blinds, “Earth…” He suddenly spoke in his native tongue once more as he ran a hand through his hair before turning to face you, “....Human…?” He had said something else you couldn’t understand besides the singular word. 

“Yes…?” You nodded making him almost whine as he grabbed his head, as if in disappointment, you offered a weak smile. You supposed if you were an alien that had seen galaxies beyond imagination you’d be pretty disappointed at seeing Earth too. 

He sighed as he frowned, looking around the apartment before straightening back up as he looked at you, pointing to himself as he spoke, “JK.” 

You blinked a few times, unresponsive as you frowned, “What…?” Your face scrunched as he bounced a little, repeating the two letters once more as he pointed to himself somewhat harsher, your brows raising before your lips parted, “Oh…! You’re JK! That’s your name?” You gave a smile as you nodded.

His smile was like a child as his fists curled up as he nodded rapidly, not understanding a word you said but it looked as if you understood, “Y/n.” You slowly prounicated your name as you pointed at yourself. 

JK had attempted to say your name, multiple times actually, but his brows pinched in frustration, having a hard time with it, but oddly enough it was quite endearing to watch him repeatedly try and say your name, even after you have found yourself on your phone, typing in the nearest place to eat while trying to figure out how to break it to Seokjin that an alien would be boarding with you guys for awhile.

What else were you supposed to do…? Call the police? You looked at JK with a frown, he seemed oddly innocent and you’d feel guilty doing that to him, his brows pinched as he fumbled over your name once again as he puffed a breath in frustration, the marks on his arms glowing a deep hue of light orange. 

“JK.” His gaze snapped to yours as he tilted his head, you offered a dull smile as you spoke carefully, “Eat?” You pointed to your mouth before stomach, JK rubbed his head briefly mirroring you as he rubbed his stomach a little confused. You hummed as you searched around before finding a leftover candybar on the coffee table, “Eat.” You pointed at it before taking a bite. 

“Eat.” JK had an easy time saying that word with a nod before he suddenly seemed excited, bouncing his spot as he nodded wildly, “Eat! Y/n…!” His nose suddenly scrunched at messing up your name again. 

His attention was brought back to you at the sound of you giggling at how cute he really was for someone that nearly killed you twice within the last hour, “Yeah, it’s almost dinner time, we should get something to eat, I’m starved and Seokjin banned me from the kitchen.” You gestured to him to follow you as he cocked his head, not understanding a word you were saying. 

You pulled one of Seokjin’s hoodies from his laundry basket as he handed it to JK who frowned, looking at his own clothes before back at you, as if silently asking why he needed to change. No nevermind the fact he glowed like a fucking lava lamp, “Hide.” You pointed at his arms as he frowned, looking down at them. 

“Hide!” You emphasized as you pointed towards your own arm then to his before it suddenly clicked as he nodded, sighing as he spoke in his own tongue the throat sound of something like mild disappointment and you could understand, but it was necessary. 

JK all of a sudden pulled the shirt over his head nearly making you scream, the sight of compact muscles and tan skin that almost had an iridescent sheen glowed, your body suddenly feeling extremely warm as JK fumbled a little confused. 

He frowned as he tilted his head, why were you covering your eyes? He looked down at himself before back at you, was....was he not supposed to change right here? He pulled the sweatshirt over his head, saying something that made you pick up in relief to see he was changed. 

You grabbed your chest as you groaned, “Don’t do that again.” You were in too much a dry patch and desperation to be alone with an alien that had tentacles and a face like that. 

Now with his marks being covered you just needed something for his hands...You frowned a little before something occurred to you, going over to Jimin’s gym bag you grabbed the finger clothes he always used to lift barbells with. 

His fault he was a pussy that didn’t want to get callouses. 

You handed them to Jk as he tilted his head, first examining the fabric before he slipped them on, looking at them as he snorted as if amused before saying something that sounded an awful lot like he enjoyed wearing these. 

“Eat, now.” He perked up at your words as you nodded and he excitedly followed you as you grabbed your bag and phone before exiting the apartment building. JK was beyond fascination, looking around as if he had never seen anything like this place, even going so far as to wonder off a few times, immediately making you hold his hand once more to keep him next to you. 

Other people also stared at him, but mainly because he was acting weird, you shoved him a little and he seemed to understand to stop. 

But he still took a few peaks before his feet halted, making you nearly yanked back as he stopped, his lips parted and his eyes were all big and doe like in awe as he stared out over the sunset, speaking once more and you frowned. You wished you could at least pick up a few words of his own language, JK was honestly impressive in picking up so much in so little time. 

You smiled a little at how fond he appeared to be looking out over the sunset before you tugged his hand which was still in yours, he looked down at you before pointing towards the sun as you nodded, “Yeah it’s pretty, but let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“Pretty.” He repeated before looking back out over the sun as he repeated the word again as you tugged him along. Entering the Panda Express it was nearly empty given it was six o’clock already and the dinner rush had left but that was good, you weren’t sure you could control JK in this type of environment. 

JK only observed you as you ordered for the both of you, watch the mouth watering food slide down the servers before you paid for your meal, leading you both to sit the back of the store where glass paneling was up for JK to keep looking at the sunset as you set his box in front of him. 

Fried rice and orange chicken was never a bad combo for the first time eater. JK observed you as you held up your fork, plowing into your food as you sighed in contentment before a noise of amusement escaped you at the sight of JK pinching his brows as he struggled with holding his fork. 

His eyes darting to you as his lips parted a whine escaping him as he messed up your name again making you laugh even harder, you waved a hand before you set down your fork, leaning over the table as you spoke, “Okay fine, fine, no need to get so pouty. Here, you just...place them like this.” You fixed his long thick fingers that fumbled a little before they properly gripped the fork. 

“Okay? Like this.” You held up your own before scooping up a pile of rice with it, Jk mirrored you, puffing a breath in slight frustration at the sight of the rice falling from his fork a little, “If you’re mad about this I guess it’s a good thing i didn’t get us chopsticks.” You snorted as JK focused on his food. 

You watched in curiosity as he took his first bite, his brows furrowing for a moment and his held tilting as if he was heavily focused on how it felt in his mouth before his brows shot up and almost immediately began scooping more food into his mouth like he was a fucking starved man held captive. You were surprised at how fast he was devouring his food but you only smiled softly as you began eating as well, enjoying the rest of your meal in silence. 

JK had even ate the rest of your food once you were finished, you just sat there in your seat, your knee hiked up towards your chest while you ran a hand through your hair absentmindedly while watching him devour the rest of the food. 

“Good?” You called out, JK’s eyes finally leaving your box of food, rice sticking to his upper lip making you smile a little as he rapidly nodded, looking like he was drunk off fried rice and orange chicken, probably not even paying attention to what you said. 

By the time JK was finished he slumped in his seat, stretching out as a yawn escaped his lips, his eyes closing briefly before he sighed, looking out over the glass paneling as if something troubled him before his eyes darted back to your figure and back to the window.

You wished you could speak fluently in whatever language he spoke so you could ask what he was thinking about, once all of the innocence had melted off his expression in those child-like moments of glee, he was left like this, as if he was tired and maybe even lonely. 

How did he even get here? And did he need to get back? To where he was originally going? You thought back to his disappointment when he realized he was on Earth, and if you could stretch for a reach, you’d say he obviously had another location in mind before...whatever happened. 

“Hey,” you called out, drawing his attention as he raised his brows, “Home.” 

He tilted his head as he echoed the word, “Home?” You stood up as you nodded with a small smile, knowing damn well you wouldn’t be able to avoid Seokjin forever. 

JK stood up mirroring you before you guided him to where you threw your boxes away and he had even helped clean up the table before you both exited the shop, it was now dark out and the walk home was quiet as ever. But you enjoyed it, his company at least, you didn’t really have a lot of friends outside Jimin and Seokjin, who were your best friends since middle school and you all now split rent on an apartment close to campus. 

You opened the door, peeping in as JK stood there mildly confused, Jimin and Seokjin sat on the couch watching a movie much to your disappointment, opening the door fully you pressed a finger to your lips at JK as he tilted his head before you quietly shut the door. Grabbing his hand as you gently tugged it along. 

“Where in the absolute fuck do you think you’re taking him you horny fool?” 

God dammit. 

You grabbed your head with a groan as JK frowned, almost immediately concerned as he looked around, Seokjin stood up with his arms crossed, “He told me all about the goo monster here.” 

“He’s not a monster!” You screeched making Seokjin snort as he raised a brow, “...He’s an alien.” 

“Wearing MY sweatshirt!? That’s balenciaga!” Seokjin cried out, pointing an accusing finger at JK who looked a little concerned, looking at Seokjin then at you who he shuffled a little behind like a puppy with a tail between his legs. 

You felt an immediate wave of protection come over you at the sight of the action as you stood in front of him, despite him towering over you, “Would you stop! I’ll get him clothes tomorrow! Just leave him alone, okay, he’s hurt, he doesn't know anything about Earth and he just…!” 

“He’s not a dog Y/n!” You pressed your lips together as you looked away from Seokjin who glared at you pointedly, “We don’t know what this thing is or his intentions.” 

It was difficult to imagine JK’s intentions being anything but good when he was delighted at finding out your bed was bouncy, or the take of friend rice and orange chicken, or his excitement at the sunset, “He isn’t here to kill us! I can promise you that...just!” You squeezed your fists as you sighed, “Just trust me, okay? He’ll stay in my room and i’ll get everything he needs.” 

“Until what!?” Seokjin shouted at the lunacy of your words and you understood, it wasn’t everyday someone stumbled across an unconscious alien in a ditch, “Until what Y/n!?” 

“Until he’s able to speak enough English for us to know what the fuck he’s doing here, hell if I know Seok!?” You raised your arms, you...you hadn’t thought about his words yet, admittedly, “He just needs somewhere to stay until he understands more about Earth and how it works here okay? Listen…” You shuffled in your spot as you sighed, “The moment he poses a threat….i’ll deal with it okay? We can call the police or whatever and report it, but he’s been docile the whole time…” Okay that was a stretched truth but what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them. 

“Jesus christ,” Seokjin groaned as he collapsed back on the couch as he sighed, “...Fine, just make him use Jimin’s sweatpants.” 

“Hey! I didn’t consent to this!” Jimin whined who had been admittedly just sitting back and enjoying the fight between you both as he almost always did, serves the hoe right. 

You said no more not wanting to push things further as you grabbed JK’s hand once more guiding him down the hallway as you pushed the door to your room open, his eyes lit up a little at the familiar sight, hurriedly he went to the bed as he bounced on his as he laid down, burying into your blankets and pillows with a content sigh as if he had been aching to lay down all day. 

You felt a little bad at the sight knowing you should’ve probably let him rest sooner, choosing to sit down on the floor you opened up your laptop before you began working on the paper that was due by tomorrow afternoon that you had chosen to ignore since you had came across JK this morning. 

By the time it was late night JK had been in a deep sleep, obviously deducing that humans weren’t that dangerous of a species to keep himself awake over. You yawned yourself as you shut your laptop, rubbing your eyes before you looked at your bed, frowning as you sighed. Grabbing the pillow that had fallen off the side of the bed as you laid on the ground. You had slept in worst places before. 

You sighed in contentment as you rolled over on the nice soft surface, warmth filling you and sleep had been particularly forgiving to you last night. Man what had been so forgiving today to let you sleep this good?

The memories of yesterday had filtered to your mind too quickly making your eyes snap open, you had fell asleep on the floor how did you get in bed!? You searched frantically for the puppy like alien who was absent from where he had been collapsed here last night.

Fuck this better have not been that bad LSD trip! It would have you fucked for months that Jimin would really let you believe there was a hot alien guy you made up in your head. You quickly padded down the hallway almost frantically before your eyes were met with three heads of hair on the couch. 

“Die! Die!” Your mouth moved multiple times but you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence at the sound of JK’s nose wrinkling and buttons being mashed as the three boys were sitting with controllers in hand. 

“Which one of you fuckheads taught him that word!?” You growled finally, knowing JK was your age and probably even hundreds of years old depending on how his species aged and he understood the concept of killing but shit! You didn’t like hearing him say it like that when he seemed so naive and innocent about everything else on Earth. 

Seokjin and Jimin both whipped around sheepishly at the same time before they started immediately blaming one another as you gritted your teeth. You would’ve continued to glare at them both if it not been for JK’s cheeriful voice, he had immediately perked at the sound of before hurrying over, “Y/n!” His pronunciation had gotten better and it was difficult to not smile at the triumph in his voice as if knowing he had improved before stating your name again, “Game…!” He pointed at the TV before his controller. 

You nodded, “I can see that…so I guess he’s suddenly not a threat anymore?” You sneered at both of your bestfriends, JK frowned a little as he looked between you three, obviously confused as to what was going on. 

Seokjin looked mild, pretending as if he hadn’t heard what you said, prideful bitch, “He’s okay. Better at Jimin in Overwatch if you can believe it, maybe I’ll just let him be my duo instead.” 

“Hey fuck off!” Jimin glared at him, brushing his shoulder in somewhat offense before he spoke, “He is good though, wouldn’t stop saying your name this morning though.” 

“He couldn’t say it yesterday,” You explained before turning to JK again, offering him a weak smile, “Play.” You pointed at the TV in encouragement, who were you to tell the man what to do? You just rolled out of bed and needed something to eat before you interacted anymore with those two idiots. 

JK looked excited as he ran back over to the couch before he spoke, “Play! Y/n play!” Your lips parted at the way he strung the two words together so easily, he was catching onto the language...fast...like extremely fast. His species was obviously intellect enough that this was a skill of theirs, or so you assumed for him at least. 

“No play. Eat.” You pointed at yourself before the tiny kitchen as you walked away hearing a noise that sounded like a whine from him. 

“Hey you're making breakfast for all of us right?” Jimin called out, making you glare him down and if lazerbeams could shoot from your eyes he’d be a pile of ash, he held out his arms as he spoke, “Damn fine, so much for sharing is caring in this household huh.” 

You rubbed your eyes ignoring him as you yawned, immediately making a cup of coffee before turning to the fridge only to jump at the tall boy standing in front of you peering down wide eyed and curious, “Eat.” He said singularly before he offered the world's cutest smile that you couldn’t begrudge as easily as you could Jimin. 

Fuck! He was asking you to cook for him and he had a cute almost bunny-like smile and he looked so endured and hoping you would make him something as good as Panda Express, which there was no way you could but jesus you were willing to try. 

“Breakfast,” You pronounced slowly, knowing this was a bit of a harder word for him as he tilted his head and repeated ‘Eat’ once more before you shook your head, “Eat, breakfast.” You tapped the clock on the stove that ticked away, showing it was ten in the morning. 

JK only rubbed his head in confusion before shrugging, he sat patiently in the stool at the counter as he happily watched you cook away. You didn’t make anything too fancy, just breakfast sandwiches for you both before you set his plate down in front of him, a happy smile on his face as his nose crinkled. 

Not even hesitating before he dug into the meal which you had purposely made him two given how big of an appetite the man had, something akin to pride swelled in your chest though at the sight of JK nearly devouring the sandwiches happily, Jimin stepped into the kitchen looking offended as he sputtered, “Oh so you’ll make breakfast for the hoe that can hardly speak but you won’t for your best friend, I see how it is. Is it because you know I won’t fuck you and he probably will?” 

“Shut up!” You hissed immediately, unable to even enjoy your own food because of your head ass best friend who only smiled viciously at how flustered you were. JK was naively munching on his food not understanding a single word either of you were saying and not caring either when his face was stuffed with food. 

 Seokjin entered the kitchen making himself something to eat as well, “Hey, are you guys going to that party tonight at Beta Tau?” He tilted his head as your nose immediately wrinkled, you used to do frat parties back when you were a freshman but since then you just couldn’t keep the high pace anymore or the sleazy guys. 

“I’m going!” Jimin called out, before tapping his chin as he looked towards JK before you, “Hey, we should bring JK along, give him some good socialization!” 

“Uh no, that’s a horrible idea,” You shook your head immediately, “And I never said I was going either, and if I don’t go he’s definitely not going.” JK tilted his head in curiosity, knowing his name had been brought up before he between you both. 

“Boo you whore,” Jimin tossed a piece of bagel at you as you dodged it, his nose wrinkling as he pointed his butterknife at you, “You’ve just been nursing your wounds ever since Mark dumped you. You know it’ll be good for you and him.” 

“I am not nursing wounds!” You hissed out, feeling like a black rain cloud was piling over your head as you crossed your arms, “And it is a bad idea, JK hardly knows anything about Earth, taking him to a frat party is like tossing a baby into the ocean.” 

“Umm all I hear is bullshit babe,” Jimin scoffed as he rolled his eyes, “Besides, a little party never hurt anyone, it’s our job to show off what Humans are capable of after all.”

“At a frat party…?” You frowned as you sighed. 

“He’s not a baby Y/n,” Seokjin frowned as he looked between you both, “Just because he can’t speak english and he’s unfamiliar with how we live doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent, i’m sure they have parties where he’s from. If this is about Mark that’s kinda selfish to hold him back.” 

You weren’t…! You weren’t babying him! And this wasn’t about Mark! You just…! You weren’t in the mood to see him, especially attached to Lisa, who you had already thought was hot as it was but instead of going for you she went for your boyfriend and now they were together, 

It had been a pretty big blow to your ego. 

“Fuck fine! We can go what the fuck ever. I have to go get him clothes today though if you don’t want him bumming off you guys though.” Jungkook was still wearing his clothes from yesterday and he didn’t look the least bit concerned though he watched you guys curiously. 

Jimin pumps his fists in victory as he shoved the bagel in his mouth, “You guys do that then, it’ll be a good bonding session, anyways I have a lecture I’m already late for peace.” He threw up a peace sign before quickly exiting as you huffed, you thought it was weird he was here at 10am on a friday morning. 

“Bond?” JK perked up looking at you in excitement as your brows furrowed a little, how could he pick up random words so fast? Jesus, he’d be enrolling in college just to see what it was about within the weeks if he didn’t chill out. 

“Something like that,” You muttered, “Finish your food though,” You gestured to his sandwich before you picked up your own taking a bite, “I need a shower first but afterwards we can go out and get you some new clothes.” 

JK frowned as he looked down at his clothes once more, obviously slowly beginning to understand you more and more as his lips jutted a little, clearly he liked his clothing he was wearing. 

Maybe they just didn’t change clothes where he was from? It was difficult to say, regardless you shook your head finishing up before you went to your room. JK followed you around like a lost puppy as he had finished eating before you. 

You had paused at the door to the bathroom as you frowned, JK looking as if he’d totally come in if you’d let him, “Go play.” You pointed towards the living room where Seokjin had resumed Overwatch. 

JK frowned as he looked between the living room and you, “Bond.” He pointed at you making your pupils widen a little, what was that supposed to mean? He shuffled a little more, nearly chest to chest with you as you craned your head to look at him, jesus he had to be 6’3 in the average pool of 5’9 men, “Bond.” He said more firmly. 

“No.” You shook your head, your smile became awkward and your body movement became flustered, what was he talking about, “You are gonna go play with Seokjin.” You pressed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little, his lips quivering a little and hurt in his eyes as he looked down at your face as if in search, “And I’m gonna go shower.” 

You couldn’t stand to look at it any longer before you quickly shut the door, locking it as you groaned, pressing your back against the door. Why did he have to look at you like that…?

“JK! Stop wandering off,” You lowered your voice a little as you tugged him along, your hand in his again as he had been exploring the store, “We’re here for clothes,” You held up the hanger you had in your hands as he frowned. He had been moping ever since you wouldn’t let him shower with you this morning. 

Or whatever his intention was. Regardless it didn’t change the fact that he needed clothes and despite being poor you were willing to throw out some money for him, but only because he was so cute. 

“Come on, let’s go to the dressing rooms, my arms are getting tired.” You tugged JK along who only pouted, obviously wanting to explore more than get things, but this was kind of a necessity. You gently pushed him into the dressing room, handing him the clothes as he frowned, his eyes looking down at the clothes then at you. 

Sighing you groaned, stepping into the small room with him before shutting the door, it wasn’t too cramped but you were uncomfortably close with him, “Okay….umm you obviously don’t understand the concept of trying on clothes so…” You flailed a little before tugging on his sweatshirt, he frowned before his eyes brightened a little. 

Understanding the message he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, your face immediately heating as you tried to not ogle his sculpted body which was muscular but slim, his shoulders broad but it suited his delicate small waist. 

You now had a good view of the marks that ran up his arms, they curved into a crescent at his hands and ran all the way along his arms, up his shoulders before curving to his back. You had changed his bandages this morning after you got out of the shower and admittedly they had healed a lot faster then you had assumed they would. 

 Whatever thoughts about his wounds however left your head as you nearly squeaked at the sight of tentacles immediately protruding from his back. Four to be exact, they were of a clear substance for the most part until your eyes followed further to their base where you noticed it matched the glow of his marks. 

A subtle pink and JK’s eyes a little bashful as he mumbled, “Bond…” His tentacles stretched forward a little as if in search for you before you squirmed towards the wall, trying your best to not let your horniness get the best of you in this situation. 

“U-ummm if you’re asking me to marry you the answer is gonna be no.” You held out the shirt in front of you to act as a semi shield to his advancement. Despite the language and cultural barrier JK seemed to understand your rejection as his lips quivered, his eyes dimming as he lowered them in acceptance. 

The tentacles immediately retracting back into his back as delicately took the hanger from you, fumbling to get it off and wow, way to make you feel like a dick. He wouldn’t even look at you as you sighed, relaxing a little as you grabbed the hanger pulling it off for him, “I’m gonna just let you do your business in here if you understand.” 

You exited as you grabbed your face, why did you feel so bad for rejecting him? You groaned as you leaned against the wall opposite of his room. Probably because you didn’t fully understand what he was trying to do if you could just speak the same language, and understand why he was here, maybe you wouldn’t have felt so bad. 

Seokjin kept saying he wasn’t a baby but...he was just so clueless as to how Earth worked, you couldn’t help it....You sighed as you rubbed your face, you just wished things could be easier. You had an afternoon lecture you needed to go to and you weren’t sure how JK would fair on his own and it admittedly gave you anxiety just thinking about it. 

He was curious by nature and you wouldn’t have a doubt he’d get bored easily just stuffed in your little apartment. JK opened the door to the dressing room, his gaze still cast on the ground as he handed the stuff back to you and you could only assume they all fit. You made sure they did because they were all at least two sizes too big for him but hey, they had to be comfy at least. 

Neither of you spoke as you paid for his things, holding the bags as you began walking back home, you didn’t like how quiet it was between you both and JK didn’t wander off not once as he let out what sounded like a sad sigh, his eyes looking up towards the sky as he mumbled something in his own language before back towards the ground. 

You felt like you kicked a puppy. 

You set his things down on the table as you looked towards the clock, you needed to get ready for class and honestly, you were gonna treat yourself to some starbucks after all this crap, “JK,” He peered up at you a little before his gaze became downcast, not looking at you but you knew he was listening, “I have to go to class…” You pointed to yourself, “You...need to stay...home.” You worded it carefully, his lips trembling now and you weren’t sure if he was going to cry or not, “I’ll be back!” You rushed, hurrying to the couch where he sat as you grabbed a remote. 

Pulling up Netflix as you shuffled around, deciding to put on a documentary for him on the ocean to keep him busy, maybe his language would improve meanwhile or...or he’d learn something, hell if you knew. 

JK frowned, sighing as he lowered his gaze in acceptance, reaching out you sighed, grabbing his face to make him look at you, “I’ll be back.” You spoke, your thumbs tethering over his skin which felt so soft and subtle, almost even more soft than any other person you had ever met, the glow of the TV made that iridescent tone reflect just a little. 

He really was the prettiest thing you had ever set your eyes on. 

He said nothing before you gave his face a little squeeze before letting him go, pressing play on the TV as he turned to watch, his expression slowly melted from sadness to that curious expression as he tilted his head, a purple glow from the crescents on his hands as he watched in fascination. 

You smiled a little before you grabbed your bags and slowly closed the door. You’d just hope he could figure out how to use the remote if he wanted to watch something else. 

Class was slow and you couldn’t help but wonder what JK was doing the whole time much to your frustration, you needed to focus on taking notes as midterms were coming up and you would absolutely fail if you didn’t pay attention. 

The whole class dragged on for two hours and in order to try and do damage control for your lack of attention you ended up going to the library to study more and make flashcards as you had originally planned before your life fell apart due to an alien binging on netflix back at home. 

You eventually got a peace of mind when you pushed your earbuds in and put on music to help you focus. Proud of your work you leaned back in your chair as you sighed in contentment before your eyes finally landed on your phone, not thinking much before your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It was almost seven in the afternoon! Fuck! You’d be leaving within the hour to get to the frat. 

Shoving all of your shit back into your bag you hurriedly zipped up before running out of the library, fumbling the whole way home before you entered the house in a rush. Much to your surprise though Seokjin and Jimin were already ready and JK looked happy to be around them both. 

What you didn’t expect for what you had bought him to look so good, he was wearing a fitted shirt and jeans, Jimin must’ve let him borrow his leather jacket and those fingerless clothes adorned his hands, “Hey hold still!” Seokjin spoke as he kept combing his hair, obviously styling it up, “I should’ve gone into cosmetology for being this good at turning trash to gold.” 

“Not everyone wants to look like Tinky Winky on steroids Seok.” You called out as you plopped your bag down in the ‘study corner’ which you and Jimin invented as a way to justify your laziness and Seokjin had said you both were on thin ice but he’d allow it because he also was lazy. 

Seokjin whipped around, those bratz lips of his parting in offense as you shrugged, holding up your hands, not about to apologize for the healthy dose of truth he needed at least once a day. 

“Y/n!” JK cried out, immediately running over to you making Seokjin groan as he grabbed your shoulders, frantically checking over you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. You frowned as you looked down at yourself. 

“I think he was worried about you.” Jimin was licking a drumstick at the moment while sitting on the handle of the couch, “He wouldn’t stop saying your name when I first got in and he looked like a scared puppy. Had to convince him that it was not a good idea to go look for you like he first suggested.” 

“Suggested?” You frowned as you looked back up at the tall boy who immediately cupped your face making you squirm a little, perhaps startled and a little touch starved, “Umm I told you I’d be back…” Not surprised he didn’t understand you but still. 

You gently grabbed his wrists, tugging them away from your face as you smiled awkwardly, trying to not think about the fact that this man looked even hotter then before, if that was even possible, “I need to go get dressed.” 

“Nope, nu uh, I’m not finished with you.” JK was yanked back with a whine as Seokjin grabbed him by the collar as he had attempted to follow you, much to your relief because you didn’t need another episode of earlier today. 

You didn’t take too long to get dressed, choosing to stay casual as you typically would given you didn’t plan of staying long and hey, if all hell broke lose maybe you’d get yourself and JK mcdonalds on the way back. 

Pulling the flannel over your shoulders you stepped out of your room, Jimin incessantly jingling his keys as he spoke, “You took too long, we’re gonna be late!” 

“You’re late everywhere we go you whore.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing JK’s hand as you all left the apartment, he still seemed a bit confused as to where you all were going but had no complaints as you both sat together in the back of the car which he inspected.

Pressing the button on top of the ceiling only to immediately squint with a whine at the light, you pressed it again turning it off as you looked at him, “Stop touching things.” He pouted a little, choosing to grab your hand as he mumbled something in his own language. 

The ride was short and you couldn’t stop dreading what might possibly happen at the party, one scared with JK and it was over, the police would get involved and they would take him off to some lab where he could get tested and poked and prodded and the idea was upsetting to think about. JK hadn’t been here for more then a day and somehow you decided taking him to a party was a good idea? 

You crumpled in your seat, looking outside the window as you watched the party rage on in the house. Of course you wanted to avoid your ex but that wasn’t your main worry for the night. Opening the door you stepped out, JK quickly following after you as you called out, “JK...stay with me okay?” 

He nodded though you weren’t quite sure if he understood, regardless he seemed happy enough to hold your hand as the three of you entered, the music was blaring and the crowd was big tonight given it was a friday and everyone could cut loose. Not the wildest you had seen but certainly not the smallest. You looked at JK in concern but much to your surprise he only looked around in curiosity as he nodded, “Party?” He asked as he raised his brows. 

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s a party.” You called back over the music, looking around for somewhere a little more quiet but Jimin cut in, grabbing JK’s arm, “Hey, we’re playing beerpong and I need to know if he has good aim.” 

JK was immediately tugged from you as you glared at Jimin his smile cheeky, “Chill, he’ll be fine, looks like he’s used to this kind of scene. Maybe he’s a space fuckboy. We’ll watch him go relax.” JK looked back at you mildly concerned but you gave him a reassuring smile as you nodded, despite not fully agreeing with it. 

Could JK even drink? You felt stressed but then again you did pour rubbing alcohol all over a wound that could have reacted like acid to him, you supposed if he knew something was dangerous he would avoid it, or so you could only hope. 

“Bitch! Why haven’t you been answering my messages!?” You jumped at the sight of the blond looking ready to mow you over, Solar’s heels clicked against the ground as she nearly ran for blood at the sight of you. 

Cowering a little your lips twisted into a sheepish smile, your best friend glaring down at you and a pout adorning her lips, you hadn’t meant to ignore her texts the whole day but other things had obviously taken precedent. Should you tell her? 

“It better be for a good reason.” She pointed at you accusingly before you made your way to the buildable table set out with drinks on it, purposely avoiding the jungle juice you knew for a fact probably had that shitty bang energy in as you grabbed a bottle of benchmark, sure it was cheap and tasted like shit but didn’t that sum up your whole personality?

“Well…” You took a breath, your expression contorting a little as you looked up at Solar who waiting expectantly, why the fuck not? If anyone could keep a secret it was her- hence her promise to Kim Jenny in 5th grade that she wouldn’t tell you that she liked the same boy and ended up helping her ask him out. 

Which you only found out about last year in a drunk truth or dare session and you marked your own words that the next time you saw Jenny you'd slap her across the face. Which you ended up not, instead you were still drunk and ended up crying with her because her dog had died earlier that day. 

Still, the principle remained, Solar would keep it a secret. Taking a long chug of the mixed drink a warm burn settled in your throat, “I discovered an alien and- he has tentacles that literally fucking explode from his back.” 

Solar nearly snorted out her drink as she began laughing, “Girl you watch too much hentai. Seriously, what’s up?” Her laughing died down before an uncomfortable silence sat between you both, your lips quivered only a little as you looked up at her, her expression immediately dropping, “You’re joking…” 

“I wish I was Sol…” You took another long drink. 

“You’re joking!” She shouted, her lips dropping, “Okay no, tell me everything! Where is it? What does it look like? You better not be pranking me right now…!” 

You waved a hand, walking as she quickly followed as you recalled the events of how you found JK and what had ensued in the last 24 hours before you paused at the beerpong table, pointing at JK. Your face warm at the sight of a cocky smirk on his face, obviously his team winning as he landed yet another shot assuming by the sound of the other teams groan. 

“That...Y/n…” She turned to you deflating a little at the sight of him, obviously hoping for something a little more...alien like, “You’re such an ass!” 

“He is! You just can’t see the shitty avatar cosplay beneath all the clothes! He does have tentacles again, by the way...I am not crazy!” You grabbed your chest in offense, “You wanna know what I’ve been doing the last 24 hours, there it is! Trying to figure out what to do with an alien that keeps trying to bone me.” 

“Bone you?” Solar raised her brows before she scoffed a little, her brows raised as she took a sip from her cup, “Thought being a monster fucker was always your thing?” You shoved her a little, making her snort in amusement, again, if you could just figure out what his motive was and...maybe have a decent conversation, “Let's say he is an alien...not that I believe you but let's say he is...what are you gonna do about it? I mean really….?” 

You rubbed your head as you frowned, “Well...I don’t know.” you confessed with an awkward expression as she sighed, “I just…! I’m assuming he probably has his own plan…! But generally I’m hoping as he learned english- which is extremely fast by the way- that he’ll eventually tell us what happened and where to go from here I mean…” 

You frowned a little, something sad stirring inside you, there was nothing holding JK back from just leaving you all one night when he’s found what he needs, or figures out where to go or...whatever it is he’s doing here, “If he even stays here long enough…” 

Solar hummed before tapping her cheek, “That’s it, I’m playing against him, he hasn’t missed a single shot.” You tried to call out to her but it was useless, when Solar was determined, nothing would stop her.

You sighed as you turned away, feeling too much anxiety from watching JK to try and come in further especially if he caught sight of you. JK surprisingly enough seemed as though he had fun a lot of the night, you had stayed curled up in a corner on your phone most of the time brooding while nursing your drink which had admittedly helped you relax a little. 

Eventually though, good times always come to an end, this being no exception, “Hey babe, long time no see?” You stared down at your phone, scrolling through instagram as you ignored the sound of Mark’s voice, “Awwh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” 

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes before you put away your phone, looking up at him as you raised a brow trying to ignore your heart racing just a hair, “Can I help you?” You asked, trying to act as if this totally wasn’t freaking you the fuck out. 

“You sure can,” Mark flirted, sending you that wink that was the very reason you had spun out in the first place with this guy and god you couldn’t deny his flirty nature always got the best of you, “Me and Lisa were hoping for a third in bed tonight and I thought, what girl would be better than my main girl.” 

He smiled, delicately holding your chin with a proud look and for a half a second you had forgotten how much of a bitch he was, that was until your mind lingered on the word ‘main girl’ to which your lips curled slowly, “...Main girl?” You scoffed immediately slapping his hand away as you shouted, “Main girl!? Since when was I the main girl!?” You watched Mark groan as you shook your head, “Uh no! You came up to me! You don’t get to act like this and you were the one that left me in the first place, why don’t you go back to your main girl!” 

“God you’re so over emotional-” You didn’t even let the little gaslighting fuck finish before you splashed him with your drink, a scoff escaping him as he raised his brows, “Are you fucking serious Y/n?” 

“Yeah, fuck you.” You shoved him before walking out of the kitchen, what a piece of shit! How dare he act all put out when he was the one that approached you, in a total douchebag way at that! You weren’t sure where everybody had went and at this point it was almost ten o’clock and you didn’t care! You just wanted to take a warm shower and go to bed!

You stepped down the stairs of the frat house and into the cool night as as you heaved a breath, scoffing as you rolled your eyes, this was exactly why you hated going to frat parties at Beta Tau now because you almost always ended up in an argument with Mark. 

Stupid little fuck. You muttered it to yourself as you wrapped the flannel around you, your eyes warily finding that of a drunk elderly man who definitely appeared in his forties, alone and his eyes immediately finding your lone figure. 

You kept your eyes on your phone as you slowly approached in hopes of walking past him, you hated parties, you hated going out at night, you hated the fact that you let yourself get so heated in the moment, “Well aren’t you just looking pretty tonight sweetheart.” You sighed in exasperation at the sound of his voice calling out to you.

“Thanks.” You offered dryly, not even attempting to smile because you knew it would just sound like that much more of an invitation to him and yet, even your singular dry word was enough of  a green light to him. 

A hand suddenly wrapped around your upperarm yanking you over as you squeaked out, “How about I take you back to my place? Show you a good time yeah?” He reeked of beer and your nose wrinkled as your expression twisted and your hands trembled. 

“Sir- I..I really need to get home…” You mumbled, not wanting to provoke him but your fear was getting the better of you by the second as you tried to keep yourself from panicking. You’ve never gone out tonight and you should’ve stood your ground regardless of who went were. 

His hands squeezed on your arms eliciting a noise of pain from you and you couldn’t even look at the guy as he growled, “Or I could go home with you sweetheart, or better yet. Why don’t we go over here…! Ow you bitch!” You had smashed his foot with your own but it wasn’t enough for him to let go of you. 

Instead his grip only got tighter making you cry out in pain as your eyes stung with tears, wishing he could just let you go...Within seconds though the man was nearly ripped away from you and a larger figure had wedged between you both, “Leave.” It was a one word command that was clear and demanding from JK, you couldn’t see his face and you weren’t sure you wanted too. 

JK was shoved back from the guy and taking this as an offense, you nearly jumped back at the sight of tentacles bursting from his back, your eyes bulging at the sight, not a single rip in his clothes as if they were transparent yet a lightening of bright fiery ran streaked through him. Your lips nearly dropped though because they obviously weren’t too transparent as JK used them to slam the guy into a wall with enough force to drive him unconscious. 

“JK! Hey! Woah holy shit!” You grabbed your head, JK whipped around, anger still evident on his face but his concern had taken over as he called out your name, what he hadn’t expected as for you to drag him into the alleyway. 

Tentacles still gracefully flowing behind him as if they were underwater, your eyes darting everywhere and anywhere for anyone to have possibly seen and yet…! “Don’t you ever do that again!” You hissed, grabbing your head in stress, if anyone saw that…! Anyone it was over! “Someone could’ve see you!” 

JK might not have fully understood what you said, but he could understand a few words here and there and your tone of voice, his expression darkening and his lips twitching in anger and disagreement, “Hurt!” He growled back pointing at you. 

“I don’t care if I got hurt!” You cried out, running your hands through your hair, anxiety shot through your veins, “You can’t do that!” You pointed at his tentacles, “You aren't human! Humans can’t do that!”

“Hurt!” He growled even louder, now grabbing your forearms in demand, firm enough that you couldn’t pull away but gentle enough that it didn’t hurt, “Y/n hurt!” He emphasized as best he could, his nose wrinkling in frustration as he spoke, “Protect!” It was spoken a little word but you understood overall what he meant. 

“Yes you can protect me that’s fine! But you have to act human!” You pointed at yourself, shaking his arm away before forcefully rolling up his sleeve, the marks which were burning red, “Human!” You snapped as you pointed at your own bare arm compared to his, “Not human!” You pointed to JK’s, “You can’t be that careless!” 

You were just lucky that the guy was drunk and hopefully wouldn’t remember any of this, JK’s lips twitched as if he still didn’t agree with you, snapping something back in his own tongue as he roughly shoved his sleeve back down before he went on what sounded like a long rant, the tentacles retracting into his back once more as he threw his arms up and you stepped back a little. 

You had never heard him so...vocal...or angry before...Which you had brought on yourself, you understood he thought it was the right thing to do and it would’ve been fine had he not decided to get his four other tendons involved. You above anything else, didn’t want JK to be taken from you. JK kept going though in his tongue, directly all of his- what sounded like unpleasant words at you as you crossed your arms, looking at the ground with gritted teeth and ignoring the way your eyes were attempting to blur in tears. 

Even if you couldn’t understand him you were positive you didn’t like or agree with whatever he was saying. You fixed your flannel that had been ruffled from the man as you sniffled harshly, trying to ignore the wet warm tears that began trickling down your face. JK had paused from his rant before frowning, watching the liquid trickling down your face as you closed your eyes. 

Puffing a breath he sighed, figuring it wasn’t any use in trying to talk to you anyways, Orion tongue was beyond ancient to human civilization which is why he hadn’t bothered trying to say any sort of phrases in his own language. 

JK couldn’t stand seeing you like this, from what he observed on- if he assumed he was correct- the TV, humans often depicted this as sadness. Unable to stand this gesture JK did what he had watched, wrapping his arms around you in a form of human affection as he set his chin on top of your head, wetness staining his shirt and he held a silent victorious moment at your reciprocation to his affection. Trying to bond with you had been such a pain in the ass with the language barrier and you almost always looked uncomfortable any time he tried to initiate a bonding session. 

True the locations might have been inappropriate but he was excited, he wanted to find a mate and soon, after all that was part of the original plan, even if it wasn’t supposed to be on earth. You had mumbled something he couldn’t quite figure out until you had mentioned the word Home, as in the place you slept. JK nodded, assuming that was where you had intended on going in the first place. 

He had caught sight of you leaving the house extremely upset and he wanted to tag along in hope that maybe with some alone time at the house, you’d both finally be able to properly bond, he could feel his scaling warm a bit and he could even spot a tint of pink from beneath his gloves much to his embarrassment. 

Knowing this was a human affection JK kept his arm wrapped around you as you both walked home, your hands on your eyes as you sniffled a little and you hadn’t spoken the entire walk back making him a little sad. Your voice was soft and pleasant on his ears which often picked up too many odd and miscellaneous sounds. 

Pulling off your flannel you sighed, muttering something that he leaned in a little to focus on understanding, knowing it sounded something like an apology. JK only offered a small smile, “Friend?” He spoke softly, he liked that word, it was the first one you had taught him after all. 

You nodded, looking severely tired as you repeated the word back before padding to your room to get changed, little by little JK understood more and more about humanity on Earth which wasn’t exactly new, but rather...a bit archaic by Orionia’s standards.

JK had made sure to go into the room with the odd looking boat to change into clothes, knowing it always elicited an odd reaction from you whenever he changed in front of you. Getting into something more comfortable he could appreciate the human need for comfort. 

Feeling a bit timid he peeped into your room where you laid on your bed, looking half asleep but you gestured him in much to his excitement, understanding bonding wouldn’t likely happen now that you were too tired but he appreciated your company, you made things much easier for his stay on Earth. 

Pulling out your lap held device JK tilted his head, oh…! This was like the mainboard back on the ship, just a smaller version of it, a computer? But a lap verison? He furrowed his brows a little, the name on the tip of his tongue as his nose wrinkled. Much to his delight though you typed up the same place where he had been watching educational videos earlier today. 

He only hoped you’d stay this time, he had been extremely worried the Arbitrator's had found you, your friends however had said multiple times you were just at ‘Class’ whatever that was. And they seemed calm enough and if they knew your routine then...he had no reason to assume they were conspiring with the enemy. 

Much to his happiness you laid back down as you stretched out before curling up, your eyes closing as he clicked onto the video of the ocean, as he had learned Earth held quite the exotic lifeform in the sea. 

It was nearing 11:30 which you had pointed at the clock earlier today except now it was dark out, JK could only deduce there was certain names for eating at certain times of the day, he tapped on his chin, scrolling down the assortment of human entertainment. Wanting something to figure out how to win your affection to be his mate. A loud piercing screech nearly jolted him out of bed, holding his head as he frantically looked towards you before feeling relief fill him. If you couldn’t hear this then…! 

He fumbled as he hurried to the window, pushing through the blinds as he peered out, seeing a large flare being shot up into the sky in a deep hue of blue and purple, that acted as something he saw on a video. A firework, if he remembered correctly. JK perked up, Taehyung and Namjoon must be okay, this was what…? At least ten miles south, in human terms? He remembered that much from the academy. 

JK nearly ran out the door before he paused, his eyes looking over your sleeping figure he...he couldn't just leave you here...and…! He perked up, “Y/n!” He called out, jostling you awake as you rolled over with a groan, “Y/n! Home!” He spoke determined, if he could get you to go with him then he could explain everything. 

“What? JK seriously? This better be important.” You groaned as your eyes tiredly cracked opened at the sight of doe eyes looking at you urgently, he nearly ripping you out of bed with a squeak, “Home!” He spoke as he brought your shoes to you before pointing out the window, “Home!” 

...Oh...oh god, this was going to be a long night, wasn’t it…? 

[soliverse]

the way of the househusband - n.yt

reader x yuta

genre: gangster au, marriage and family au, fluff humor

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, and cursing

word count:1.5k

networks:​

@nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape @kwritersworld @culture-cafe @neowritingsnet @neoswitchnet @czennienet @nct-writers

ps: this was based off that cute little anime that I found on Netflix and I just had to write it. I didn’t have this beta’d because it was out of a whim and I needed to get it out my system.

 You grabbed your kid from her high chair and gave her a tight hug and plenty of kisses. You're about to leave once again for another workday, but you can't seem to get over leaving your child every single day.

///

"Kitty~"

 You cradled Yena as you made your way into the kitchen, where your husband, Mr. Nakamoto himself, was cooking breakfast for the three of you. Seeing him so domesticated made you giggle for a bit. His tattoo-clad body contrasts your pink frilly apron. You wiped his sweaty forehead and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

 Yuta has been working hard as a househusband for more than a year now. He used to be utterly hopeless in the house, something that he couldn't have learned from his past profession, but your husband still tried to keep himself busy while you work, and he stays at home with Yena.

 You see, Yuta is a former head of a famous gang in Japan. When he heard that you were pregnant with his child, he had quit the lifestyle and disbanded the whole unit. It was his life, but it's a small price to pay for raising a family away from chaos. And for that, you are eternally grateful.

 "Yuta, the eggs are burning."

"Shit. I fucked up."

 You sighed.

 "Language, please." You covered your daughter's ears and made your way back to the dining table, placing Yena right beside you as you prepared the baby food you premade for when Yuta will feed Yena throughout the day.

 "I managed to save the eggs..." Yuta brought out the plate of eggs, smilingly proudly as if he's accomplished something. You took one look at the eggs, and apparently, his idea of fixing it was to throw away the burnt pieces. You are now left with irregular pieces of eggs. 

 "Looks yummy..." You took the eggs from him wholeheartedly. You couldn't manage to break the fragile heart of the former gangster head right in front of you. Yuta took out one of the eggs as well, munching happily like nothing ever happened to them.

 Your phone started ringing before you even managed to take a bite out of your breakfast.

 "Oh no. I've got to go!" You stood up from your seat and struggled to find your coat from where you'd left it earlier. You grabbed your suitcase and gave your husband and Yena a kiss goodbye.

 "But… breakfast..." Yuta was disappointed to see you go, so you gave him one last kiss on the lips before saying, "Bring them to work for me later. I forgot I had a meeting at 7."

 You wore your shoes quickly and headed straight to the door. Before you left, though, you shouted, "Yuta, can you go get groceries later after you brought me my lunch to work?"

 Like a puppy, he replied, "Yes, dear. I love you!"

 "Love you too, baby! Give Yena lots of kisses for me!" Before Yuta gets the chance to answer you, you had already slammed the door and ran off to the bus stop to get to work.

///

"Hey, kid."

When you're gone, Yuta likes to play pretend with your kid.

 "You think you're tough enough for the job?"

 He spoke as he dresses Yena up after a bath.

 "We don't take kindly to rookies around here, kid. Are you sure you're man enough to take on the whole Kuma group?"

 Yena answered with a giggle, a gesture that made Yuta's heart melt every single time. It was a habit that Yena picked up from you, and he was glad that she did.

 "Alright. Suit yourself. You will be in charge of holding daddy's grocery basket while we go deliver mommy's lunch. You think you can handle that, kiddo?"

 Yena started babbling some incoherent words, but Yuta took that as her daughter taking up the challenge. She's such a go-getter.

 And after strapping Yena to her carrier, the two of them went on a mission to finish delivering mommy's lunch and buy groceries in one piece. A feat that Yuta wasn't expecting to achieve that day.

 ///

 Yuta had successfully done his task for that day. At the same time, Yena fell asleep in the middle of shopping, so he had an extra time of peace to himself. That is until a group of men came running in his direction. He tried to turn around, whistling as he silently gets away from that situation. If one of them recognizes him, he's dead.

 "Boss!"

 Yuta resisted the urge to facepalm as he heard someone call his former name. He slightly turned around to see Shotaro, his former apprentice, right before the group disbanded. The eyes of the guys chasing Taro went dark. It seems like they have been looking for Yuta through Shotaro for a long time now. He had made sure to hide very well until someone recognized his tattoos showing his plain white shirt.

 "I'm not sure who you're talking about. I'm Nakamoto Yuta, unemployed, full-time househusband."

 "You're the infamous Akuma. You're him, right? The head of the 127 group?"

 Yuta shook his head and flashed a friendly smile.

 "I don't know who you're talking about. If you'll excuse me, you'll wake my daughter up."

 Yuta tried to turn around again, but one of the goons grabbed his shirt. It caused him to move out of balance, almost waking Yena up.

 His attitude started to change. There was a rumor that you should never touch the Akuma unless you wanted to die a horrible death. Now that he has Yena with him, that rule extends to her as well.

 He sighs, and he motioned Shotaro to come to him. The younger guy hesitated at first, but he willingly obliged. Yuta started taking off Yena's carrier and strapped them into Taro's body. 

 "If something happens to her or that basket of groceries, consider yourself dead."

 Yuta warned as he instructed Taro to walk away as far as possible. His fatherly instincts kick in, which the other guy didn't realize made Yuta even more dangerous.

 Yuta cracked his fingers and replaced his toothy smile with something more sinister. It is what they call the smile of death.

 "Now, who wants to die today?"

 ///

 Shotaro came back to the scene, horrified at the lifeless bodies that Yuta left on the sidewalk. Yuta went back to his giddy self again when he saw that Yena was still sleeping in her carrier.

 "You sleep so well. I'm glad that you also got that from your mother." His white shirt was bloody, but that didn't stop him from holding on to his daughter.

 "Taro, help me carry out those groceries some will you?

 ///

 The three of them came home a few more minutes before you get home. Yuta quickly washed himself to get rid of the bloodstains in his body. He also threw his clothes at the trash as they can't take the stains off of them in time before you get home.

 Shotaro just watched as his former boss, the most ruthless killer in Osaka, wears this pink frilly apron while he makes that night's dinner.

 "Would you like to join us for dinner, Taro?" The kid wanted to refuse, but Yuta was wearing that deathly smile of his again.

 "U-uh sure thing, boss."

 "And please, stop calling me boss. Not in front of my wife or my daughter. Just call me Yuta."

 Shotaro dared not to call his former boss by his first name. However, he nodded as a sign of agreement and helped him take care of Yena and prepare that night's meal.

 You went home to the fragrant smell of soup, a dish that had recently become Yuta's specialty. It was certainly better than half burnt eggs.

 "Oh baby, you won't believe what happened at work today. I--" You stopped on your tracks when you were greeted by another Japanese man that isn't your husband.

 "Oh, hi. Are you a friend of my husband's?" The guy nodded, smiling happily like a little kid. 

 Cute.

 Yuta then came out from the kitchen and greeted you with a kiss. However, even if he hid his face with his long hair, you still noticed tiny cuts along with his eyes and forehead.

 "What are those?" You stepped closer and tried to sweep his hair off his face. You were hoping to get a closer look.

 "Ahh, haha, those were from when I was attempting to install a shelf earlier. The screw got loose and hit me in the face. Right, Taro?"

 The kid looked panicked, but he nodded profusely like he actually meant it.

 "Alright. What's for dinner, then?"

 You knew that Yuta got in a fight again. You're not as innocent as he deems you to be. There is a reason why you were married to a former gang boss, after all. However, you saw Yena all cleaned up and well-rested. Yuta did an excellent job of taking care of her well. It didn't matter that he went back to fighting once again. It was in his nature, after all. 

 What matters is that every day, you will come home to him, Yena, and a bowl of freshly made soup after a day of hard work. That is all you ask for your househusband as of now.

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good guest, part 6

CW: Whump, parental/intimate whumper, whumpee being chipped, blood, captivity, belting referenced, angst, abusive treatment, panic attack

Masterlist

Walter was stressed out today and grumbling to himself, not even making eye contact with Gabriel, which was quite new. He wasn’t sure, but he felt like that was a pretty bad sign. Gabriel took a deep breath before approaching him as Walter mindlessly paced around the kitchen. The chain rattling behind him made his presence known as Walter went still, glancing in his direction. 

“W-... Walter... Are you okay?” He asked. This was the first time he approached him willingly, or spoke first. They both froze and stared at one another, trying to read each other's mood and motives. Walter finally let off a small sad smile, taking his hand and sat him down. 

“I’m alright little one... I’m just nervous, a little stressed.” He waved his hand as if it were nothing. 

Stressed hmm? Maybe keeping a man controlled and locked away in his house was finally getting to him. The “smash-a-window-and-run-for-the-trees” tactic clearly didn’t work, so maybe getting him relaxed and off guard would be better, even safer. 

“Why? I thought you were happy.” Gabriel tried to sound sad and innocent. 

“Oh sweetheart of course I’m happy. I’m worried about you.” 

What... He’s worried about me? How could he...

“You broke loose and got yourself hurt.” He mumbled sadly, staring down at his bandaged wrists he was holding. Gabriel's heart sank a little, that wasn't the only thing that hurt him last night, the red bruises crossed on his back said otherwise. 

“I’m just so worried about you all the time now. What if I take your eyes off you and something terrible happens!” He cried, squeezing his hand protectively. “I feel like there’s nothing I can do to guarantee your safety."

“Then.. W-why did you h-hurt me?” Gabriel rasped, tears instantly falling down his face before he had a chance to suppress them. 

“Oh no, no no sweetheart I didn’t hurt you. I corrected and disciplined you, there’s a difference, I need you to understand that. I would never hurt you.” He soothed. 

Gabriel's gut twisted with horror and confusion. He was promising only love and safety, yet his actions never reflected. Walter perked up, lifting himself to his feet. 

“I know what we can do, hang on.” He smiled, petting his hair as he walked behind him out of the kitchen. Gabriel’s eyes followed him out with confusion, holding his arms crossed nervously as he tried to guess what he was doing. His heart jolted when he heard the basement door open. 

No.

No!

No no no no no no...!

He hadn’t even realized he had jumped to his feet, his body quaking and cringing. The house shook and rattled as Walter drug something heavy up the stairs. Each time it thunked against a step, getting closer and closer, was one step further Gabriel would take to a panic attack. By the time Walter made it up the stairs he had thoroughly pressed himself into the corner trembling, the only thing not tucked away was his one leg being outstretched by the chain that wouldn’t allow him to go any further. 

Walter let out a sigh as he crossed his arms, stepping aside to show the small detailed wooden piano behind him. 

“You said you liked to play, so this should give you something to do.” He smiled. Gabriel's eyes darted from Walter to the piano, waiting for a second part like “oh, and I’m also going to tie you to a chair while you play, and every key you get wrong I’m going to belt you again” but it was only silence that followed. 

He nervously struggled to his feet using the chain to steady himself. Part of him was actually quite relieved and excited to have something to do. But the other part felt like any time not spent trying to get out of here was time wasted.

But...

He really missed playing. He had to sell his first piano and that broke his heart...

“Can I...?” He muttered with a hushed tone. Walter nodded with an approving smile, stepping aside to give him some space to approach. He took a wide path to get to it, grabbing a kitchen chair on his way over and setting it down. He slid just one leg onto the chair, still being cautious incase he had to jump back to his feet, but placing his hands on the smooth keys was instantly relaxing to him. 

The piano was beautiful, decorated with hand carved wooden detail. It wasn’t the most well kept, obviously being locked in that forbidden basement for so long, but it functioned as well as it could. He played by ear, so he was able to quickly pick up his old habits and memories of his favorite songs. He played something calming, a slow tune with a peaceful feeling flowing off every note. Not soon after he was fully relaxed in the chair playing fluently. 

Walter seemed to have gotten relaxed as well, as all the tension left. He quietly hummed along to the music as he turned on the stove for dinner. For the first time, he felt okay. He was still terrified, but he at least had something to do to keep him sane. 

"You're very talented, Gabriel." Walter beamed. 

After some time, dinner was on the table and Gabriel's fingers grew stiff. When he stopped playing the room grew silent as all the peaceful tone seemed to die with the music. Dinner looked like it fell from the heavens as usual, the smell was tempting and delicious. He sat at the table, Walter however, didn’t. He stayed standing, hovering near the counter with his hands resting. Gabriel looked up at him with a puzzled and expecting expression.

“Go ahead and eat, little one. I’ll be just a minute.” He smiled lovingly as always, but it was different this time... It was tilted, sad. Gabriel didn’t want to disobey or tense him further, so he did his best to shove food into his mouth as much as he could stomach. The stress still made it difficult to eat as every bite was forced down. 

Wait.

Something was wrong. 

Something in his view was different. He glanced over where Walter was, but was nowhere to be seen. He never heard him move, where did he-

*Clang*

Gabriel gasped, his entire body jolting as something loud snapped at his neck followed by blinding pain. He disappeared under the table, his hand covering his neck as he felt blood. 

“Wh-!.. What did you do!? Aaa!” He cried out, as the sharp pain in his neck spiked higher and higher. Walter was quick to duck under the table, a small device that was in his hands clattering to the floor. He pulled him out and cradled him in his lap while he held a napkin to his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He whispered, putting pressure on the wound. 

“N-no it’s-s no-t okay!” Gabriel barked while he sobbed, his voice wobbling. 

Walter tilted his head to the side and pressed a large band aid on his neck. He let him go and backed away to give him some space as he trembled on the floor, gasping for air. 

“Wh-what did you do?” Gabriel asked, looking up at him with glossy miserable eyes.

“Imbedded a tracker into your neck.” He said, staring down at him.

“Y-you... You embedded a t-tracker... Into my neck?” He repeated back with a flat tone. 

“Yep! now you can never be lost again.” He smiled, crouching back down next to him. Tears instantly poured back into his eyes as he sobbed, Walter tried to shush him and comfort him as best as he could. He eventually lifted him in his arms and carried him to the couch, covering him with a blanket while he fidget with the TV. He hadn’t turned it on in years, but he felt like Gabriel deserved something to take his mind off of things. 

Gabriel just laid on the couch, wide eyes and panting, his hand still clamped around the band aid on his neck. The TV flashed on as they both jumped with surprise, Walter mostly because he actually managed to fix it. He sat next to Gabriel on the couch as he turned it to something fun and distracting, combing a hand soothingly through his hair as he eventually calmed down and fell asleep. 

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry @whump-it

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

[willowcrowned]

Grey Apprentice AU (Installment #4)

aka Sith!Obi-Wan AU Flavor II 

(Previous parts: x x x)

Qui-Gon paces the length of his and Obi-Wan's small sitting room, first once, then twice, then a third time. He looks up, expecting the usual dry comment from Obi-Wan on jedi masters’ peaceful bodies and minds, but he’s not there. Of course, that’s the problem in the first place: Obi-Wan is gone, off on a ship with a figure that felt like a maelstrom of darkness in the Force, and he’d left with a wink. The man must know something Qui-Gon doesn’t, but what it is, he can’t guess.

He turns, pausing at the entrance to Obi-Wan's room. He normally doesn’t enter without permission; it’s an invasion of Obi-Wan's privacy— privacy to which he is well entitled— but in this case...

Qui-Gon grimaces, opening the door. He won’t snoop, won’t do anything other than have a superficial look. At the very least it might calm him down to have tangible evidence of Obi-Wan's intention to return. When they’d left, he hadn’t taken the black bag he usually keeps with him, a velvet thing smaller than Qui-Gon's palm. Obi-Wan wouldn’t have left it if he thought he’d be gone for more than a week.

The room is just as Obi-Wan had left it, tidy and empty, with a plant on the desk next to a picture of his friends, a spare cloak hung up on the peg next to the door, and a blanket folded perfectly at the foot of his bed. It’s the room of a knight, not of a padawan, Qui-Gon realizes, and he has to push down the surge of pride and guilt that seems to swell up in his chest more and more often these days.

He frowns, for the first time noticing the odd pressure building in his brain. It’s a strange, blunt, thing— the marked absence of something, rather than its presence. He scans the room once more for the offending object, for the first time noticing an odd red glow from the closet. Qui-Gon pauses. He’d said he wouldn’t touch anything, but— The glow grows brighter, and he can hear the Force calling to him from it, not light, not peaceful, but not unkind. Qui-Gon sighs, and opens the closet door.  

The glow is coming from the floor, within the black bag Obi-Wan had left behind. Qui-Gon looks at it, a furrow forming in his brows. It’s not Obi-Wan's habit to leave things on the floor, and the cleaning crews haven’t been in their apartments since they left. When he picks up the bag, intending to return it to its place on the shelf, a white-hot pain sears through his hand, and he drops it. The bag tumbles to the floor, and out of it falls a holocron.

It’s the last thing Qui-Gon notices before the onslaught of darkness hits him, pressing him beneath a tsunami of emotion. The fury slams into him first, not so hot as the zabrak’s had been but far, far, deeper. Qui-Gon falls to his knees without noticing, forced to sustain the mental battering of his shields. He can feel them weakening even as he clutches them tighter, being torn away bit by bit like an old house in a storm.

How is no one noticing this, Qui-Gon wonders. How come no one has come in to see what this endless wave of darkness is— this storm with no light.

The first tear in his shields happens, and he works it shore it up, plugging it with whatever he can think of: random bits of trivia, a poem, a meal he shared with Obi-Wan. Stay, he tells them, give me time. The pieces do not stay, each layer being ripped away until all that’s left was the look on Obi-Wan's face as he realized the sandwich he’d bitten into was filled with candied ants. Then, abruptly, the maelstrom stops, and Qui-Gon is left grasping for the pieces of his shields, the void around them quiet once more.

“Do forgive my intrusion,” a female voice says, dry and unapologetic as Qui-Gon struggles to get control of his breathing on the floor. “You know how it is: better safe than sorry.”

Qui-Gon falls back, resting against the wall as he tries to catch his breath. “What are you?” He says, injecting his tone with as little worry as he can manage. “What are you doing here?” What are you doing in Obi-Wan's room, he wants to add. What have you done to my padawan?

Zannah’s nose scrunches slightly, halfway between amused and disgusted. “Your shields are down, Jedi.”

“I wonder why that is,” he manages.

She shrugs. “I’m not going to apologize.”

Qui-Gon patches up his shields, weaving the skeleton of the old threads of memory into a new place, beside several strong pockets of compulsion. It won’t be enough to stop the woman if she attacks him again, but it might gain him a few seconds of reprieve. It will have to be enough.

“As for your questions,” the woman says once he’s finished, “A Sith, sleeping, Obi-Wan brought me here, and I’ve done nothing to him.”

“Nothing,” Qui-Gon repeats, disbelieving, the aftershocks of her attack still filtering through his mind.

“Yes,” the woman says. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Darth Zannah. I’d tell you to sit down, but, well...” She gestures to him collapsed on the floor.

Qui-Gon shakes his head, trying to disseminate the information. “Does he know you’re here? Does he know what he brought back?” Surely not, he thinks. Surely Obi-Wan wouldn’t have knowingly brought a Sith into the heart of the Jedi temple.

“I should hope so,” Zannah says, “given that I’ve been training him for twelve years.”

“Twelve—” Qui-Gon freezes.

“Yes,” Zannah agrees, “since Bandomeer.”

“Impossible,” Qui-Gon breathes.

“Is it?” Zannah raises an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Obi-Wan— or, no, all this time Obi-Wan must have been imitating her. Qui-Gon remembers when he picked that little habit up; it had been the months after he’d turned seventeen, just beginning to grow into his too-long limbs, still gawkish and almost awkward. Then, over the course of their mission, his gait had grown smoother, countenance more graceful, and his awkward smiles at Qui-Gon's jokes had turned into an amused raised eyebrow and half-smirk. 

It had felt odd at the time, watching the maladroit child he knew turn into a clever, subtle, adult, but he knows it now as the sign of Obi-Wan growing up, leaving Qui-Gon as a student and returning to him as a friend. He remembers the white stone of the city, remembers the late spring blossoms of the sea-roses, remembers the first time Obi-Wan had turned that quizzical look on him— and feels the taste of the memory, sweet with the blossoms, turn to ash in his mouth.

“How—” Qui-Gon starts, mouth dry. “Why—”

“I offered him knowledge,” Zannah says, not unkindly, “and companionship not to be found in the constraints of Jedi.”

“Why train him?” Qui-Gon asks, clutching at proof that she has not— could not— have trained Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is kind, and clever, and selfless, and none of the things a Sith should be. He cannot have lied so fully for so many years. He cannot. “Why not train someone else? Someone you wouldn’t have to corrupt first?”

Zannah gives him an incredulous look. “You think I’ve corrupted him? Have you forgotten Ghé’aiit so easily? That was not the behavior of one corrupted.”

Qui-Gon feels ire stir deep in his chest, at her prodding, guiding rhetoric, but the memory springs to him unbidden.

It had begun as a trade dispute. Three families, each the head of a government and of a trade sector. The Jedi had initially been brought in to facilitate negotiations; those had lasted all of two nights, ending with Obi-Wan kidnapped and in chains— a hostage for the third family. Qui-Gon hadn’t known that at the time, of course. He’d only known that Obi-Wan was gone and the place where their bond was had turned to a jagged mess of edges before it disappeared into nothingness.

He’d found Obi-Wan again, oblivious to Qui-Gon's presence, escaped and facing the Third Peer, who was holding a blaster to his sister’s head. It would have been easy, laughably easy, for Obi-Wan to let him shoot her, claim he had gotten there too late to save her, and arrested the Third Peer with little risk to himself. Instead, Obi-Wan had lain down his blaster, and braced himself for the shot.  

(Later, when their bond was back and whole, Qui-Gon had blocked it off again, too overwhelmed by fear and relief not to yell at Obi-Wan. How could he yell at Obi-Wan, when he’d done exactly as a Jedi should do? But how could he not be angry, not be furious, that he had lain down his blaster and braced himself for death as if it were second nature? How can I forgive you, Qui-Gon had thought then, for almost leaving me? How will I be able to let you go when it’s time?)

“He scared me too,” Zannah says softly. “When I heard what he had done, I could barely restrain myself. Foolish, loving, Jedi, and their need to do the right thing.”

“I hope you don’t think,” Qui-Gon says, tired, “that I trust you.”

“No,” Zannah says. “You’re not a stupid man, on the whole. I hope you will trust Obi-Wan, though.”

Qui-Gon sits straight up, reminded of what had caused his agitation in the first place. “Obi-Wan. You sent him after that darksider?”

“Darth Maul,” Zannah agrees. “I wouldn’t fear, he’s not a match for Obi-Wan— merely the servant of the Sith Master.”

“You would send Obi-Wan to do another Sith’s dirty work?” Qui-Gon doesn’t hide the curl of his lip from her, meeting her gaze head-on. “I thought the masters were supposed to discard their apprentices themselves.”

“I do not,” she hisses, eyes flashing, “do that creature’s dirty work.”

“Lady Zannah—” Qui-Gon replies coldly.

“Lord, actually,” Zannah corrects, and all of a sudden the fire has left her eyes. “The title is ‘lord’ regardless of gender. A Sith Lady is a different job entirely.”

“Lord Zannah,” Qui-Gon corrects, making sure she can hear the eye-roll inherent in his tone, “Are you implying that not only are you embroiled in a rivalry with another Sith clan, but that you have, in fact, created your own?”

“We call them houses,” Zannah replies. “Mine is that of Athén. And you are correct, Obi-Wan is a part of it. We are a House of two.”

Fantastic, Qui-Gon thinks bitterly, and his patch-job must not be as good as he thinks it is because he swears he hears Zannah chuckle. He sighs. “Out of curiosity, what is the job of a Sith Lady?”

“A combination of cultural advisor, archivist, and magic user. And occasionally a consort.” Zannah smiles a wickedly sharp smile. “I much prefer being a Lord.”

Yes, Qui-Gon thinks, not caring that she can hear it. You would.

-

 Some notes:

-Yes Zannah did name her house after her dead wife, who is in turn named after Athena, because I am a basic, basic, bitch

-Yes, I did borrow the line about Sith jobs from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles. Patricia C. Wrede I’m so sorry I’m using your work for my nonsense AUs but also those books shaped me as a human, so. Too Bad. They’re a part of my writing now.

- I included a bug-eating joke because apparently I am constantly under the compulsion to talk about people in sw eating bugs. I have no excuses

[bastillia]

Innocuous (NSFW)

Read on Ao3

Summary: You’re a medical officer aboard the Steadfast, and you’ve found yourself caring for a gravely injured Kylo Ren. He seems to require some unconventional treatment.

Rating: Extremely Explicit

Words: 7.5k

Content warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of injury, wound/bloodplay, burnplay, oral bloodplay, oral sex (f recieving), orgasm denial/delay, choking, inappropriate use of the Force (and of a medical device oops), rough sex, extremely minimal aftercare, Kylo Ren is a nasty fucking boy, LISTEN this gets a lil dark ok, so just please consider before clicking ok tysm

A/N: I scrapped and restarted this whole thing at least twice, but we finally got there my friends. Is this over the top? Maybe. Do I have a single regret? No. Please heed the content warnings, you may have a bad day if you don’t. This is pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy!

Strips of fluorescent light ribbed the vacant hall, white beams streaking reflections across the glossy black floor like a frozen lane of hyperspace as the urgent click of your boots perturbed the calm. The corridors of the Steadfast were all but barren this time of cycle, only disturbed by the occasional patrol of noc shift troopers trudging mechanically in unison. Devoid of the usual bustle of footsteps and orders, the static hum from the ship’s walls washed the air with a bassy din of ambient noise that might be calming, were your heartbeat not adding an anxious percussion to the silence.

You really had no reason to be awake, you should have taken your sleeping aid hours ago, but the endless scroll of patient files on your datapad had kept you up just long enough to see the alarm flash. Hardly a momentary blip, but the peculiarity of it was what propelled you from your quarters and heated your step with urgency now. Medical Bay: Intake - Officer’s Ward, it had flashed, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Tapping the access pad that led to the sequestered corridor, you waited for the door to slide open and slipped through. Needles crawled up your spine as your gaze shifted around the familiar yet eerily still hallway, which was making you nervous now for absolutely no reason. Each private room should be empty, you knew you hadn’t checked any officers in for overnight care, and you could recite your inpatient registry as if it were etched into the backs of your eyelids. Droids didn’t typically throw faulty alarms -- maybe your eyes had simply deceived you after a long and fucking exhausting day of post-mission damage control in the med bay. Echoes of that exhaustion now placed a terror within each shadowed room that you passed, something that your brain was convinced would surely jump out at you.

You stopped dead as you reached the final door, half-hoping this one was your imagination. He was still. Too still. Limbs sprawling over the edges of the cot, with haphazard bandages crossing his bare torso aimlessly. They were visibly soaked through with blood, contrasting the blanched sheen of sweat-drenched skin, a black mop of hair askew over the pillow.

A violent spike of dread lanced down your spine. You darted into the room, your medical instincts hot-starting and roaring in your eardrums as you alighted upon him with gentle precision. Two fingers flashed to the pulse point at his neck, depressing the slick, hot skin there as your frantic eyes fell to the broad rise of his chest. Pulse. Breathing. Both too shallow and fast, but present, thank the stars.

You released the held breath that was starting to burn your lungs. The alarm. What had sent it? You glanced around. Monitor wires lay scattered over the floor around the metal feet of the bed, not a single one connected. A fizzling noise behind you nearly snapped your neck as you whipped around. A nurse droid lay lifeless, crumpled and sparking against the far wall.

Oh.

You turned slowly back to the unconscious Supreme Leader, fear trickling coldly down your veins in a moment of consideration. He’d wanted to be alone.

Your mind suddenly supplied you with an image of yourself in place of the droid, bones crunched like scrap metal against the wall, eyes glazed, life flickering and dying in the fried wires of your veins. How easy it would be -- effortless, even -- For him to crush the life out of you with little more than a flick of his wrist. How… maybe that knowledge made you tingle, just a little.

You derailed that train of thought with a sharp shake of your head as your eyes flicked across his battered torso and up the column of his neck, settling on the tranquility of his face. Bruised and bloody as it was, he looked… peaceful. Freckles and moles dusting his skin like starry kisses to soothe the ache of battle. His features, always chiseled from the sternest isoform of marble, now softened in sleep. Suspended in a paradoxical state of youthful serenity even as his body worked in overdrive just to tether him to life. He was… just a man. And he was absolutely beautiful.

Maybe you stared at him, just a little longer than you should, before committing to your courage and snatching an antiseptic cloth. If one of you was going to die, at least you were the more replaceable option. And this was what you’d signed up for, wasn’t it? To serve the First Order, even perhaps at the expense of your life. For… the greater good, or something. Yeah. Higher purpose and all that. You were a good medic, and good medics were selfless. It definitely wasn’t because you, perhaps, didn’t mind entertaining the thought of those large hands around your neck, squeezing...

Fucking focus.

Expertly, delicately, you began to peel back the blood-soaked evidence of his attempt to self-bandage, baring the flesh of his torso. Stars, he was magnificent. Glistening skin lay taut over lean muscle, a finely-tuned war machine sculpted by years of hard training, evident even in the depths of sleep. The subtle ripple of his muscles expanding and contracting with each breath spread that insistent tingle through your lower belly as you meticulously swiped the blood and sweat from his body.

Your hands danced to the pace of your heartbeat. Quick and steady, as you tossed the cloth and fitted a needle onto a syringe tip. A light pinch of his skin here, so that he wouldn't feel the prick of the shot there. Pure habit, not that a small needle stick would hold a candle to his injuries in terms of pain. But you didn’t really want him waking up just yet. You pushed the plunger down to administer a microdose of bacta. Just enough to hotwire the healing process, without dulling sensation.

You'd mused privately to yourself on more than one occasion, that you thought he liked to feel the pain. Whether it was a show of control, or an exercise in self-punishment, you couldn’t say. But you'd learned early on, working here, never to bring a pain suppressant around the former Commander.

Maybe no one else had ever picked up on that, because it seemed you were the only person he ever allowed near him with a bandage. You didn't mind. Nor did you mind the way his eyes always followed you quietly as you worked, as you'd gently cleanse his wounds from the battles and conquests that he fearlessly led as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. You certainly liked him better than the last one. You thought maybe Ren even liked the way your fingers would subtly worship his figure with every quiet and efficient pass of gauze. Maybe he knew where those fingers ended up later. Sick bastard. A smirk tugged the corner of your lip.

His arm was hanging over the edge of the cot, a cautery pen still held loosely in his bloodied fingers. You sighed, removing the device, and picked his arm up to lay it neatly by his side. The weight of it caught your breath in your chest, the solid and heavy cord of muscle dwarfing your hands.

You quickly shook away the distraction, seating yourself on the bedside stool and turning to your most immediate concern: The deep, ripped laceration that bled from his lower abdomen. Vibroblade, you’d wager. It was oozing around the half-cauterized flesh, ugly and red from where he'd clearly begun to try and solder himself shut. You gently placed the cauterizer on the bedside stand. A crude tactic, and not one you would settle for, you decided as you retrieved a sterile suture pouch instead. Preparing another antiseptic cloth and gauze for the blood, you hovered back over the wound.

A realization started to echo along the tunnel of your focus, and the walls crashed away with a thump of your heart as you stared at Ren's flank beneath you, where his breathing had notably deepened and steadied. Your hands froze as your eyes shifted up the planes of his torso, cold spines gouging your chest as you reached his face. His eyes were open, fixed calmly upon your own stare, a flush restored to his full, pouted lips. Ice shattered in your veins.

"S-supreme Leader, I-” You dropped your materials onto the mattress, “You- you want to b-be alone, I'll j-just-" you were stammering, pushing your seat back, brain vibrating with panic. This was it. You escaped now, or you were joining the droid.

You made it about halfway to standing when a hand cinched on your wrist, arresting your movement. Your breath halted as you snapped back around, your heartbeat slamming in your throat.

Something boiled up behind his irises then, trapped so fiercely under the tempered surface of his eyes that his jaw locked tight and his chin quivered slightly with the strain of it. Your brain began to scramble. The look held an unmistakable need, a plea that said, so deafening in its silence, Stay.

You carefully held his gaze as you began to sink back down onto the small seat beside the bed. Your hand was trembling under his grip, every drop of air evaporating in your lungs as his pleading eyes burned through you. You slowly let yourself sit until your weight rested fully on the stool again.

Ren’s body slackened, releasing the air back into the room, and his head dropped back onto the thin pillow in a flutter of raven locks. His eyes drifted shut as a breath rolled through his nose and deep into his chest.

His grip had eased around your wrist, enough for your brain to now register the pleasant warmth of his enormous hand as it softly enveloped the lower part of your forearm. The sensation dumbfounded you for a moment as you stared between your arm and your Supreme Leader's face. The muscles in his brow twitched over his closed eyes as several more controlled breaths seemed to forcibly banish something from his body.

You came back to yourself as a trickle of dark blood drew your gaze back down to his abdomen, where it painted a river over bruised flesh before falling down his side to soak crimson sunbursts into the white sheet. You cautiously twisted your wrist free, and he let his hand drop softly back to the sheet without resistance. Hesitantly, you ran a hand across his skin, next to the gaping wound, inspecting the separated flesh. Firm muscles bunched under your touch, tugging at the ragged edges and inspiring another pulse of fresh red. You studied his face as his lashes lifted open again to meet your eyes. It took you a moment to find your breath.

"I... need to close this," you breathed, tracing a featherlight and completely instinctive touch of reassurance over his intact skin near the wound. He chewed the inside of his lip.

"Do it."

Your belly fluttered at the low command, his eyes never wavering from your gaze. You swallowed. Standing slowly to bend over his abdomen, you studied the open section of the wound. The edges were relatively clean, and it didn't look like the blade had made it deep enough to hit anything vital. The bleeding was nasty though, despite your meticulous cleaning job. His skin here would naturally be taut over firm abdominal muscles, a high tension area, you noted. You’d need to place dermal sutures if you wanted them to hold. Your brow knitted in preemptive sympathy.

“This is going to hurt.” You muttered.

Well, perhaps that was obvious. But stitching up conscious patients was not exactly your area of expertise, so maybe in a way, you were preparing yourself more than him. You were surprised at how well you managed to withhold the tremor from your hands as you quickly cleaned the wound again. It steeled your resolve slightly.

You tossed the soaked gauze, and plucked a curved needle and sinewy thread from the sterile bag. You readied your hand over the cleansed wound and flashed your gaze up to Kylo Ren’s eyes, waiting for... well, you didn’t know. Any kind of final approval or declination, maybe. He said nothing, but his eyes burned you steadily as his jaw locked in place, making the tightness in your chest flutter and twist. Swallowing, you turned back to the half-closed gash. You quickly threaded the first set-back stitch with nimble precision, and tugged the edges closed.

Ren’s muscles locked up with a full-body grunt, and a broad hand shot up from where it lay on the bed to grip the inside curve of your thigh. A jolt leapt through your body, setting your heart at a wild pace. Surely that was just a reflex. Surely he would let go. Blinking, you tried to find the voice in your chest.

"You… you have to r-relax." It came out more breathless than you intended as you fumbled only slightly with tying and cutting the thread. You paused to steady yourself, ignoring how warm your skin felt under his hand. A deep breath rolled through the Supreme Leader, and to your utmost shock, his core slackened obediently.

His hand did not leave your thigh. You took a breath and forced yourself to continue, fingers curling to pierce and thread the next suture through the tender, deep layer of skin. A lower, longer vibration left Ren’s nose as his large fingers gripped tighter into the soft pillow of your flesh. Your breath came shallow as your brain ignited, trying not to file that noise away under the category of pleasure. No. Stop that. You refused to indulge the thought, or the warmth that it shot through your lower body, as you refocused on your work.

You fixed your eyes firmly on your target, not letting yourself meet his gaze again. The next few sutures were accompanied by sounds from Ren that you diligently ignored. If you acknowledged what they sounded like, your focus would be obliterated. It already half was. But the growing hum at the apex of your thighs could not be indulged, could not break your concentration, even if it was just above where his hand… Oh.

Oh.

His thumb traced the slowest line along the crease of your groin.

It was impossible not to notice the stiffness that was beginning to tent his pants, close to where your face hovered over his lower abdomen. A shiver caressed your spine at the sight, as all of the heat in your body began to gravitate to the heartbeat in your cunt. You swallowed thickly. Stars help you, the sight of him. Supreme Leader Kylo fucking Ren, laying underneath you, his cock getting hard as you caused him excruciating pain. And you… you fucking... liked it.

His hand shifted then, sliding upwards to press a single, precise stroke along the concealed line of your heat. “Oh-” The soft moan came unwillingly from the bottom of your chest, and you braced one hand out on the mattress as your knees turned to liquid. Your body responded so automatically that it made your head spin, your thighs shifting wider, inviting his touch. You could have passed out when he curled his hand to pet another slow stripe over your clothed slit. 

Panting now, you lifted a pleading stare to meet his eyes. They were hooded black vats of desire, and your heart dropped right through your cervix as they drank you in. Your face tingled hot. Your brain wobbled along the line between finishing your task, and the primal need that was erupting through your belly. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

“Supreme Le-”

"Off." He interrupted lowly, pinching at the fabric of your pants. You weren't sure why you obeyed so fucking immediately, but before you could think, your thumbs were hooking into your waistband, and then you were stepping out of your boots, trousers, and underwear, kicking them carelessly across the floor. The tails of your white coat tickled your exposed skin as you positioned yourself back over his wound, wet cunt bared and leaking down your thighs. Cheeks burning with a heat that reached all the way down to your chest, you pointedly avoided his eyes. You tried to steady your hands, and you swore you could feel his gaze stoking a wildfire at your core. You swallowed, staring detachedly at your fingers.

No, the medic instinct in you wouldn’t allow you to leave your work half finished. If you had the wherewithal to think about it, you might have concluded that he knew this, but that didn’t mean he would hold back in making it as difficult as possible for you now that you were, well, in this state. Taking a breath, you threaded another stitch. This time he shamelessly groaned, and his fingers slipped easily through the silky heat of your slit. You gasped, almost doubling over again as you tied off the suture.

You finally looked at him. His nostrils were flared and his throat bobbed, as he watched his own long fingers collect the wetness that leaked from your core. Pleasure and shame waged war across your skin, and your knees went weak as he met your eyes again.

“Keep going,” he stated calmly, gesturing with only his eyes towards the wound that was now nearly shut.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eliciting a hiss of breath from the Supreme Leader as his fingers passed in a slow arc around the top of your stiff clit.

How you managed it, you had no idea, but in very little time you were looping the last thread over itself, tightening it, and cutting. You blinked, looking back along the neat line of sutures as Ren continued idly stroking at your slit, sending shocks down to your toes.

“D-done.” You stammered as you shuffled your supplies together and started to step back.

With a flash of rippling muscle, Ren sat up and captured the back of your neck, pulling you in just inches from the strong curve of his nose. Your materials clattered to the floor as your legs nearly buckled from the sudden weight of his proximity, his gaze pitching you in an inky black tide of lust.

“Gentle little thing,” he pondered, running a thumb under your jaw. Your lungs simply didn’t function any more, you decided, as heat chased the air from the bottom of your bronchioles and out into the space between you. “I’ve wondered about you.”

Your voice hiccuped dumbly in your chest. “Ab-bout me, S-supreme Lead- oh.” Your question hung unfinished from your slack jaw as the pad of his finger shifted wetly across your clit, shooting a liquid flame up your spine that burst in your brain.

“Mm,” he supplied in acknowledgement, his lust-blackened gaze all but swallowing you whole. “Such a pretty thing...” Heat flowered in your cheeks again. “So unassuming.” He slid two fingers down your slick folds towards your entrance, and the delicate stem of a whimper crawled from your throat.

“You want to let go.” He stated in a deep, near-whisper. “Don’t lie to yourself, officer, I can feel your need for it.” You shuddered. Absolutely you wanted to let go. You wanted to do a lot of things, but mostly anything that would elicit those sounds that he was making before, while you punctured his dermis with a curved fucking needle.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Your voice seemed far away in your own ears.

The hand around the back of your neck curled slowly until it tightened into the hair follicles at your nape, and the pinpricks sent a thrilling voltage through your nerves that made you gasp.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, the smallest hint at a smirk twitching on the corner of his mouth. “Your desires are far from innocuous.” The lust that thickened his voice had you clenching.

He held your hair tightly, the pain scraping down your spine and feeding heat into the coiling, writhing need that hummed above your thighs. He began to lean back and pull you with him, until you had to shuffle your knee onto the mattress to keep from falling. His hand abandoned the wet heat between your legs, and a solid arm slid impatiently around your waist instead, pulling your hips firmly over him until you straddled his lap on the generous cot.

The feeling of his clothed, straining cock nestling against your folds chased a whine over your lips, and Ren caught it in its tracks, drinking down the sound as his plush lips claimed your open mouth. Fire exploded through your body and your hands flew to his chest, sliding up over hot, bruised skin until your nails were dragging up his neck and into the inky softness of his hair. A deep growl quaked in his chest and his tongue slid greedily across the roof of your mouth, coaxing your jaw wider for him.

You felt his hands slide to grasp the lapels of your coat and yank them over your shoulders. With a thrill of excitement, you threw your arms back to allow him to shuck the garment roughly from your body. Your shirt followed over your head, forcing you to surface from the depths of the kiss with a vulgar wet sound. The second you were free, his massive hand trapped your wrists behind your back, and you gasped at the sudden feeling of immobility. Kylo Ren pinned you under his dark gaze, pulling your arms to arch your back and press your tits up towards him, his eyes devouring the bareness of you that he displayed for himself.

Then he lunged. His hot mouth latched into your neck and worked down to your chest, his strong grip arching you further until his lips pursed around your pebbled nipple. Your jaw fell open in a gasp as he slid his tongue across the bud and drew it between his teeth, pinching just hard enough to leave it aching, and mirrored the action on your other breast. He hummed as he moved back up to lick wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sliding along your skin until you felt hot breath flood the sensitive hollow of your ear.

“I wonder how you taste, pretty thing.”

The sound that left you was fucking obscene, his words dissolving every bone in your body. You instinctually ground down on his swollen cock, seeking pressure lest your cunt actually rupture with need.

He began to lay back, his hands releasing your wrists, and your strained muscles flooded with relief. Clutching your thighs, he pulled your hips insistently to follow his face back to the head of the cot. A nervous tremor wracked you as he guided your thighs over his shoulders, the realization crashing over you all at once. You were about to sit on the face of the most dangerous man in the fucking galaxy. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose to your mons, inhaling deeply and releasing a growling moan that vibrated right up your body.

A deep magenta bruise flowered his temple and cheekbone, decorating the seam where the flesh of your thigh now ended and his face began. Your core clenched in anxious anticipation, and he turned his face to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh. Remnants of fear were still paralyzing your chest, but the bolt of pain that flashed up your body pierced through it and into your brain for a moment of blissful clarity. You moaned as you suddenly registered just how much pulsing heat was settling inside your walls, aching now to be soothed by his tongue. He ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips, and he leveled a dark look up at you that liquefied your bones.

"Please…" you began to whisper.

In a flash, he took your hands and pinned them to the small of your back, then thrust his warm, flat tongue against your cunt with a low groan. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he licked a wide stroke up the length of your slit, parting your folds and dragging the flat of his tongue across your swollen nub. Tingling pleasure erupted through your lower body, the feeling of him warm and divine and utterly unbelievable. He moved slowly, almost lazily, lost in the taste and scent of you as he began to work that beautiful mouth over every inch of your cunt.

You shifted your hips in desperation, trying to ride his face and gain more friction on the ache that was coiling in your clit, but he locked your arms up roughly, immobilizing you with one of his huge hands around both of your wrists. You whined and he resumed his torturous pace, lapping at you indulgently, rolling his nose across your clit, building a hot pressure in your core that cried painfully for release.

When his lips finally pursed around your bud, his tongue sliding across it in a way that shot light behind your retinas, it was enough to send you reeling. “Oh, fuck-” you groaned as you felt your orgasm start to pull up tight and hot, your body desperately grasping at its relief.  But then it was plateauing, ebbing, as he slowed and slid his silky tongue away from that epicenter of pleasure.

“No, pl-please, please--” you wailed as you felt your impending orgasm slip away down your spine.

Ignoring you, Ren closed his eyes and swallowed with a grunt, sucking down the arousal that had gushed from your entrance, and you felt it travel through his whole body as he went rigid. He shuddered in consummate pleasure then, and your brain suddenly shifted from grieving your denied orgasm to wondering where his other hand might be. You imagined it wrapped around his own cock, and the thought tightened heat around your spine.

You craned a glance over your shoulder, but the sight that met you paralyzed your brain. His cock was free of his trousers, beautifully hard and leaking a bead of precum onto his stomach, untouched. His fingers were instead plunged into the neat line of sutures that studded his low abdomen, fresh crimson welling around his pressure-whitened fingertips as his body trembled. A protest shot instinctively through your chest. 

“Don’t-”

Two huge hands hooked over your thighs, smearing you with red, and yanked your ass back onto the warm, broad expanse of his chest, cutting off your objection with a breathy yelp. You had little time to bemoan the absence of his mouth at your center before your world was spinning, as Ren flipped you underneath him in a shockingly strong, fluid motion that inverted your senses.

You flailed an arm behind you for balance, but before you could get your bearings, he was hauling you effortlessly down the thin mattress by your hips. A squeak escaped you as your shoulders met linen, and then you were wailing as he devoured you again, his eager tongue sliding hot and heavily down your folds. 

He groaned and slipped two blood-drenched fingers into you, pumping and scissoring them slowly as he massaged your clit with his mouth. Shock and pleasure quaked in equal magnitude through your body, every instinct clashing in a spectacular array as your brain fought against itself. You wanted to be horrified, sickened even, but every nerve ending was screaming in nothing but wretched liberation.

In a wash of euphoria, you submitted to it, let your fingers find and lock into his sweat-dampened hair, let yourself sigh and clench around his warm, wet digits as they stroked against something devastating inside of you. He built you up like this again, higher, tighter, but before you could reach the apex of that perfect ache, just when you were whimpering with the promise of shattering into bliss, something began to coil around your spine. An invisible force -- the Force -- squeezing dark numbness down every nerve below your lumbar spine.

No, no, fuck. Tears rushed to your eyes and you choked out a sob, as you trembled in excruciating bereavement. Your wrists were wrenched to your side and tacked to the bed with that same invisible power while Ren continued to indulge himself in your numb cunt, sucking and lapping steadily at your wet heat. Your insides blazed with need and neglect as you watched him slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he savored the mixture of his blood and your slick. That was it. You couldn’t keep quiet.

“Kylo, please-”

His eyes locked onto yours, lips still pursed around his fingers. You did not mean to call him that. You quailed suddenly, in your state of helplessness, at the sight of the large man as he began to crawl over you. He kicked off his trousers, looming until you were caged underneath his powerful body and staring helplessly up into the wicked excitement that roiled in his irises.

“Poor, poor thing,” He taunted as an electric current of sensation shot back down your legs, causing you to yelp. His hips rocked to part your slit with the velvety weight of his cock, his swollen and weeping head dragging moisture across your clit as it tingled with renewed feeling.

“So desperate to cum that you’d forget all respect for me.” The words dripped from his lips to pour over your neck as he nipped above your clavicle, seeping into your blood and heating it tenfold. He felt heavy and inviting and perfect, and you clutched your nails sharply into his sides as a crippling wave of need crashed down your spine. He hissed in a breath, letting it out in a nearly inaudible “Fuck.”

A tear spilled down your cheekbone. He was right, you were absolutely fucking desperate, coiled painfully tight after being ripped back from the edge twice. This was his particular brand of mutual torture, denying your release and losing himself in his pain. You needed to do something, anything, to fracture that infuriating, adamantine control. Anything to break the endless cycle of torment.

Your eyes were drawn down to a river of crimson that streaked into the valley of his hip, welling from the fresh spring of your sutures. A writhing, dark desire slithered up your brain stem, burning with some foreign audacity, and it moved your hand almost on its own. Fuck it, you could play this game, too. 

“Please, Supreme Leader,” You corrected yourself, letting your voice thicken through your tears to a noxious sweetness. “I’ll do anything.” 

Your palm slid to his low abdomen, collecting the warm blood with your thumb and sliding it back up towards the neatly closed wound. You slowly ran your slick digit along the raw edge, your breath catching in your chest as you flicked your gaze back to his eyes, just inches in front of yours. His lips hung open slightly, in disbelief, in want, it was impossible to say. But his pupils were blown wide and hungry as he stilled, the smallest twitch of his eye daring you, pleading you, to continue.

“Anything…” you emphasized in a whisper, holding his stare through your damp lashes as you pressed your thumb into the bruised, inflamed skin, crushing your finger straight into the raw nerves. You dug down, down, watching his lips slowly pull into a wild snarl of pain, his thick cock twitching against your folds as a ragged groan tore through his teeth. You were panting now, watching his eyes as they filled with liquid black fire, unblinking, burning through you.

Heart pounding, you pressed further, building a pinpoint of pressure over the closed wound until you felt the fine strand of a suture give way under the pad of your thumb, popping open with a soft shift of flesh. A choked roar ripped itself from Ren’s chest as his hand came down on your throat. His eyes were glazed with a terrifying need, inches from yours, strands of hair beginning to mat on his face as sweat decorated his skin.

His hips began to sink heavily. The head of his cock pushed past your folds, pressing insistently at the tight heat of your entrance. You whimpered, pulse racing under his grip, and braced your hand involuntarily against his abdomen as your walls began to stretch, the wet sting reverberating up your spine. Your eyes shot to his, pleading, but found them fiendish.

"You’re going to take all of me, pretty thing." His voice was barely above a ragged whisper, caged behind rusted bars of restraint that were slowly splintering across his eyes as he broke you open. “And you’re going to cum around my fucking cock when I tell you to.”

It was all you could do to simply whimper and nod, his words paired with the intense stretch effectively wiping your brain blank now. And the stretch kept coming, endlessly, filling you completely, until you thought you might crack in half. When he finally sheathed himself, his body flattened down heavily on top of you, pinning your hips wide open. You couldn’t move your hand, his sheer mass was crushing your thumb inside the wet, raised flesh of the wound as you felt it leak warmly around the base. A sound caught in Ren’s throat, and a shudder wracked his whole body.

He laid there for only a moment, crushing the air from your lungs, bathing in the pain, before he lifted his torso and began to thrust. Still slowly, still so controlled, breath rolling hot and rabid down your neck. You pulled your thumb from beneath his skin with a sickening squelch. Trembling, a morbid urge had you bringing the hand up to your mouth.

You moved to flick your tongue out over the warm, coppery liquid that was now coating your thumb and beginning to run down your forearm. In an instant, Ren snatched your wrist and pinned it beside your head. Something utterly feral played across his eyes that made your stomach squirm.

He panted through his teeth, eyes drifting across your face to the hand that he had pinned down. “You want a taste, whore?” His tone was somewhere between incredulous and eager, only fueling your desire to pry further at the seams of his restraint. You bit your bottom lip, lifting a pleading look into his eyes, and nodded with a whimper.

“Yes, please, ple-- Ah!” He slammed his cock into your cervix, making you cry out.

He snatched your wrist up with a grunt and enveloped your thumb with the heat of his mouth, swirling his strong, silky tongue around your knuckle to collect the liquid. Your head spun as he drew his lips up and off of your digit, slamming your wrist back down to the mattress and crushing his mouth to yours. His tongue pushed ravenously past the guard of your teeth, and your palette lit up with the sharp mix of metallic blood and the remnants of your cunt on his lips.

It was deafening, the rush that cascaded between your ears and crashed down your body at the visceral taste, the sensation of his hot tongue swiping across yours, passing the grotesque mixture back and forth. You moaned into his mouth and he shuddered, gripping your jaw muscles to force your mouth open as he drew away, resuming the rhythm of his thrusts. He spat a thick emulsion of blood and saliva into your open mouth before releasing your face, shoving your jaw closed with the heel of his palm. From this angle he could see your neck ripple as you swallowed, and the sight had him deepening his thrusts with a low groan.

Yes, yes, finally. His cock stroked fire along your walls, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll into your skull. Drunk from deprivation, you wanted more. You blindly reached down the contour of his obliques and drove your thumb back into his wound, finding the slight firmness of another suture and digging into his flesh until you felt a sinewy pop. Kylo Ren roared, his hips stuttering as his body locked up in a rippling wave of tension. Eyes wild, he gripped your throat again, yanking you roughly as your eyes flew open and met his.

“Fucking filthy slut.”

He slammed into you at a merciless pace, hurtling you past any possibility of orgasm and straight into overstimulation as your body burned around him. Your vision swam, your ears beginning to ring as he pounded you relentlessly. Blood struggled to reach your brain under his grip, building a pressure in your skull that made your face vibrate.

He slowed his pace suddenly, and heat sparked to the tips of your nerves again, alighting on every inch of your quivering skin and fuck, you were close. Oh, fuckfuckfuc--

“Cum. Cum for me. Fuck!”

Ren wildly snatched the cautery pen from where you left it on the bed stand, lit it, and plunged the glowing tines straight into the flesh of your thigh. White hot pain fractured your vision, locked every muscle down tight with a scream you couldn’t hear as your orgasm eviscerated you.

Breath stuttered back into your lungs in hazy, broken sobs. Euphoric pain was weeping from your nerves, flowing across your skin to rival the tears that now ran free and hot down your face while razorblades of pleasure still flayed your veins open. The ringing in your ears finally began to give way to low grunts breaking over the fragmented tide of your sobs.

“Good girl, g-ood, fuck-- shh... pretty fucking thing.” Ren’s deep murmurs faded into your eardrums, the words slurring and thickening through his teeth as he pried the tool from your sizzling flesh. He set it aside, pace unrelenting, and dragged a hand over your cheek. Sticky blood mixed with your tears as his fingers fastened into the flesh of your face. He watched your eyes come back into focus, his own glazed in primal rapture.

He propelled a few more slamming thrusts into the depths of you as the death throes of your orgasm withered on your skin. And then you were empty, gasping, and he was flipping you over so easily you didn’t know which way was up any more. Your breath was muffled by a pillow, and you turned your face just in time for a massive, dirty hand to come down on your cheekbone.

He crushed your face into the fabric, wrestling your hips upwards with his other forearm until your knees reluctantly shifted up to support them. You whimpered at the pressure on your skull and the throbbing pain that radiated from your thigh, but the sound deepened in your chest when you felt the blunt head of his cock graze along your swollen lips. Stars, you needed him to fill you in any way, your emptiness now entwining with your pain to send a cry of grief through your shuddering bones that could only be soothed by that voice, those hands, that perfectly thick cock in any part of you. Overcome, you moaned for it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, dragging his tip back and forth over your clit, adding skittering jolts to the ache that might as well be burning away your peritoneum like paper, causing your organs to pour out over the floor in gruesome mercy. He slid his hand back along the curve of your spine, releasing your face, and you gasped in the acrid taste of copper. His palms smothered your ass, fingers splaying wide and squeezing, pulling your cheeks up and apart for his view. It was filthy, the eroticism of it, but shame was a faraway song in the tempest of your need, barely heard as you clutched the sheets and arched in presentation for him. You heard a hissing intake of breath, which he let out in a slew of unintelligible filth as the fat head of his cock slowly split you again.

Even after just moments of vacancy you had to readjust to the size of him, but the stretch was utterly demulcent this time as he gradually sheathed himself in your aching walls until his head was grinding down against your cervix. Your eyes flew wide with a gasp as you clawed the sheet, streaking it redder, willing your body to relax around the merciless presence of his cock. He pumped his hips once, slowly, powerfully, and your eyes rolled back again as your muscles turned to warm jelly.

“Kylo…” You barely heard yourself moan out, and you had no idea whether he heard you either, as a loud groan suddenly kicked up his pace and the decibels of his rambling.

“Ffffuuck, feel sofuckinggood, so tight…. fucking perfect little cunt…”

You could die, you could actually fucking die from how it felt to lose yourself in this, how possessed you were by the repulsive freedom of it, of him, spitting filthy nothings into the thick air while you entwined yourselves in the dirty rut of shameless pleasure and pain.

You felt hot liquid trickle into the seam between your flesh and Ren’s with the next few smacks of his hips against your ass. His pace faltered, and he fell over you like a snarling carnivore, palms slamming down on the backs of your hands and pinning them beside your head. His breath tickled hot in your ear, and you shuddered, clenching around him.

“I’m going to make you cum again.” He snarled, before yanking you back sharply by your hair until you were nearly upright on your knees, your shoulder blades meeting the warmth of his chest. You caught a flash of blood-coated fingers as they reached around you and began to rub hot, wet circles over your clit.

“Like the filthy fucking whore you are. That I- fuck- knew you were.”

Your muscles gave out as he spoke, your body supported only by his overbearing strength, as euphoria wrapped your nerve endings in white flame. You were keening, though you could hardly hear yourself, as the pressure on your clit started to pull a second orgasm outward from your bones.

His hips pounded ruthlessly against your ass as he brutally fucked you, the force of it knocking air from your lungs with every impact. A glow began to erupt from your spine with the next few passes of his fingers over your clit, and then you were cumming, hard, sailing into an abyss of ecstasy that swallowed your sight. When you resurfaced he was roaring, his arm a vice around your ribs, his cock slamming deep and slow inside of your quaking walls and pulsing with his release. 

Ren collapsed on top of you, flattening you into the mattress. Dizziness swam through your blood, intensified by his weight crushing your lungs. He felt warm, sated, absolutely sublime as your spent hole fluttered around his cock, the sensation of his damp breaths on your shoulder easily overriding your need for oxygen. You were perfectly content to lay like this until you blacked out, if that’s what it would take to keep him there.

But then he was rolling off of you, a soft groan rumbling through his body as the cold air of the room kissed the sweat on your spine. It sobered you like an ice bath and you shifted away from him, suddenly feeling the weight of a needed distance between yourself and the Supreme Leader. You dropped your legs to the floor to stand, and pain ricocheted up your body from your thigh. You winced as your leg buckled in a blatant refusal to support your weight, catching yourself on the edge of the bed frame.

You instead sank back onto the small stool, and felt it become slick with cum as you grabbed wads of gauze from a drawer in the bed stand. Blood was gushing from his abdomen again, joining the sheen of bright red that mottled most of his skin as well as the sheets, and you began to work mechanically to staunch the flow once more. Kylo shifted onto his back and let you do it, his eyes falling shut as panting breaths oscillated through his chest. You were filthy, you registered, as you looked down at the red-brown crust of half dried blood that was smeared on your hands and all the way up your forearms.

You gently dabbed at his skin, slowly cleansing the mess and wrangling the bleeding back under your practiced control. The edges of your skin practically cried out in neglect, the dull pain that thrummed through your body begging to be soothed by even the smallest of tender touches that you didn’t dare ask for. The pain seemed to catch up to him as well now. He breathed through it, but you saw it lock up in his exhales, in the tense pull of his brow over his dark lashes. You let the pass of his skin under your palms soothe you both until his bare skin glowed clean and the bleeding was no more than a steady trickle.

Staring at his comparatively clean body under your blood-crusted hands, you suddenly felt disgustingly exposed in your nakedness. You stooped quickly to grab the leg of your pants where they lay on the floor, but Ren’s hand gripped your arm roughly, yanking your elbow back onto the stained mattress.

"Oh, pretty thing.” He growled. “We're not finished, yet."

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

Imagine You are All Might’s Personal Assistant

All Might truly is the fastest man on Earth.

“What do you mean he just left? Where could he have gone?” you shout.

  The police officer shrugs giving you a pitying look. It makes you want to smack it off his young baby looking face. Unfortunately, that would be assault and you are pretty sure you’d get arrested…All Might’s personal assistant or not. Besides you don’t want to deal with the added stress of bad publicity, even if you get some joy out of it.

  “Well, we just got a call about a robbery not too far from here. Maybe he went –“baby officer barely got the words out, before you sped off shouting a loud, “Thank you!”

  Ask any personal assistant of a major superhero, what the most important ability needed for their job was, and they all answer: being able to always find your superhero. It may seem like a simple ability seeing how superheroes almost always made themselves known to the public (minus a few underground heroes like Eraserhead, who hated the spotlight), but, it isn’t so simple. Sure, you know how to easily find All Might, for that you just check online. After all, the All Might Watch Forum tends to keep a better update on the hero than the police did. No, the real trouble comes in figuring out how to get to where your hero is.

               For almost all personal assistants this is the first pain of their job.  Superhero’s often have their own means of transportation and vice versa for their sidekicks; personal assistants though generally consisted of people with average quirk abilities.  Meaning while their bosses took to the skies, teleported, or ran at breakneck pace, they themselves took taxis-or in your case ran. Luckily for you, All Might’s next heroic save happened to be only a few blocks away. An annoyance still but manageable.  You only pray now that he stays there. The hero has a horrible habit of leaving without a word.

    Thankfully luck is on your side for the first time today. All Might is still there when you arrive. His loud boisterous laughter reminding those around him that everything is alright. Besides him, a bloody villain slumps over, tied in what looks like clothed nappies?  Apparently, the robbery took places at a daycare of all places, or at least it did, if any of the cooing babies and swooning mothers had anything to say

   Pushing your way through the crowds of excited reporters and citizens, you hear All Might’s too familiar boom of , “Fear not. Because I am here!”

  You can’t help the bitter irritation rising in you. Fear not? Oh, someone is going to have something to fear. Boss or not, he’s totally going to hear it from you. However, the lecture gets put on pause as you finally make it to the front. All Might’s still there standing proudly in front of a disturbingly bland daycare front. Its simplistic lettering of ‘KIDZ LEARN ABC’S” contrasts against his glowing persona. Around him, toddlers and mothers alike drool trying for his attention, to which he spares a grin and handshake to each one.

   The sight screams All Might. It is so pure, so kind, so friendly-you must take a picture for social medial! Sliding the portable camera out of your bag, you quickly snap a couple of pics. Job number three of being a hero’s personal assistant: run their social media accounts. Most heroes with personal assistants fall into one of two categories: they are either high in ranking or up and coming. Either way, they all need someone to manage their publicity stuff.

  Despite the flash of the camera, All Might takes no notice of you. Probably due to all the ongoing flashes of media cameras around him. The attention comes with every save so he’s more than used to someone somewhere taking his picture. No, it’s not until some brown-haired reporter asks, “All Might, a word please?”

That you intervene letting your presence be known. “All Might is unfortunately needed elsewhere. So, any questions or requests for an interview about today’s current rescues can be forward to his agency.”

  The blond-haired hero stiffens besides the reporter. Sweat begins to form on his face at the sight of you. As horrible as it sounds you take great pleasure in the panic on his face. Not many people scare the great Symbol of Peace. In fact, you can only really say two other people not including yourself, have the power to make the hero squirm.

“(Y/N)- I didn’t see you there.” The hero stutters uncharacteristically.

     You shoot him your best glare, causing him to shrink back. No one will ever understand just why someone so comparably tiny and non-life threatening could have so much control over the hero. Villains came and went without him so much as breaking a sweat. Yet you with neither the power nor quirk to stop him, scare All Might.

“I saved a pre-school!” he babbled, picking up a random toddler. “See? Aren’t they the most precious thing you ever seen? Wouldn’t it be horrible if something happened to them?”

   He is milking it, and he knows it. Not only does he sound like a bumbling idiot on camera, but the toddler he chose, smells something awful. Still All Might refuses to give up. Children are your weakness. Their gummy gooey smiles make you coo every time. In fact, if you weren’t his assistant, the hero is sure you’d be a teacher.

   “All Might, we agreed on letting other heroes do the rescuing sometimes? Remember? Keeping the market open for others?” you press voice low.

  ‘ Keeping the market open for others,’ a code for ‘you’re going to run out of time.’ A hard to swallow truth, but the truth nonetheless. Not many people knew about his injury, his time limit, but you knew everything-almost everything. For your safety, he kept the truth behind his quirk a secret. His return to Japan/ his decision to take on teaching all hidden under the guise of searching for a successor.  

“Yes, well-look at these chubby cheeks!” he replied, pushing the kid towards you. Again shameless, but did he really care? No. Last time All Might angered you, he sported a pink suit for two months. And while the hero didn’t discriminate against any color, the hearts and frills were too much. “Could I really risk the chance of another hero arriving on time?”

  “All Might-“ you started only for the kid to cry, “All Might!” as well.

   You glanced over at the toddler, eyes softening. Said hero couldn’t help but feel like the cat who ate the canary. Silently he cheered for the kid to continue. If they did a really good job, All Might would send them some signed memorabilia.

  Shaking your head, you fought the doubt creeping within you. As preferable as it would be to just let the man off, you knew you couldn’t do it. Rescuing kids may take priority to most things, however not when there are other heroes perfectly capable of doing the job for him. “Don’t try and get out of this one. I’ve chased you to not two or three, but five different incidents.” You pressed. “Without flight, teleportation, or transportation! Do you know how hard it is for someone without a quirk or car to follow you?!”

All Might slumped slightly under the pressure of your lecture. Each escaping your mouth seemed to hit him worse than any supervillain could. “Not to mention you’re overdoing it again.” You lectured, ignoring the exasperated looks on his and everyone else’s face.

  You knew how people viewed. Most PA’s tended to be shy docile beings pushed around by their heroes or ignored. In fact, the average years for a PA to work under a hero ranged from two to three years, before they either quit or got fired. Those who lasted longer tended to be outliers such as yourself; people not easily cowed by the awe of their employers. As for All Might’s view of you…he knew how much you truly cared about him. It was why he kept you around despite your lecturing and harsh tactics.

  Having someone worry for him felt nice, especially given how he cared more about others than himself. A natural feeling obviously for heroes, but All Might ignored his health beyond that of usual heroes in your opinion. “You worry too much, (Y/N). I’m built to last.” He grinned, thumping his chest. “See?”

     His words did nothing to quell your fear. From day one-even before the tragic accident you worried over him; almost as if he wasn’t the world’s greatest hero just another human being. It was strange considering how used to being worshipped by even his own friends, All Might was.  Everyone saw only the smile and hero versus the man behind it. Yet you never did. To you, All Might was just a man with an extraordinary job and that…that felt nice.

    “Come on (Y/N), let’s go home. I promise to leave the rest of the saving to the other heroes for today.” All Might grinned, patting your head.

  You blinked cut off mid-rant. A warmth spread through your cheeks at the gesture, but you pushed it back. Falling in love with your hero was a big no-no in the world of PA’s. However could anyone really blame you when it came to such a selfless man like All Might?

[selfishjjk]

Mahito x trans!reader (cont.)

Minors DNI.

You talked with Mahito about humans, most of the time. Their good parts, their bad, and a lot of the things they did that weren't either. Inevitably, you discussed gender, and procreation, and even though Mahito didn't 'get' gender, so to speak (he could be anything he wanted, and knew perfectly well that no one else could change their soul's shape, but seeing humans try with surgery, cosmetic and the like, both interested and amused him), he didn't seem to find anything objectionable when you brought up the idea of being transgender, or even being nonbinary.

"I guess that makes sense," he'd said with one thin finger on his chin as he tipped his head back, as if there was something to stare at in the sewer. But ultimately, he'd shrugged. Tentatively you added, "I'm transgender." Only then did Mahito's eyes slide toward you, turning in his hammock enough to look at you, up and down, like you'd changed from a moment ago. And you wondered if he was looking at your soul, if souls even looked different if you were trans than if you weren't, if you were a kid or an adult.

But in that way that Mahito wasn't human and couldn't ever really understand you on a level that some humans understand each other, he also couldn't sympathize with this either, and he laughed, one of those wide-open, unguarded laughs that you were, maybe, just a little jealous of. Not this time, though. He didn't look like he pitied you - you didn't even know if Mahito was capable of pitying anybody - but he must've seen the way you stiffened, the way your gaze focused a little further down.

"That's so pathetic," he said as his laughter died down, wiping a tear from his eye like he'd probably seen in some movie. He picked up a lot of habits from movies, and from you. The way you'd flash a little peace sign every time you two met up, the way you said certain words, even faces you made at different things. Usually, you found it endearing in a way (you were kind of crushing on a disgusting man who lived in a sewer, you were long past help anyway).

But he seemed to notice the change in your mood when you replied, "yeah, I guess," because Mahito was observant, even if you'd hesitate to call him smart sometimes. His smile was a little less overdrawn then, and you knew that was from movies too.

"Come here," he urged with another laugh, reaching out a crooking a finger at you. Feeling much less enthusiastic than you would've another time, regretting bringing the topic up at all, you approach, unable to help the way your eyes still avert themselves childishly, like he'd understand what upset you.

He could've tried to say something sweet. And maybe he was. But what he settled on was not very sweet at all, if it'd come from most other people. "Humans are pathetic," he cooed this time, and maybe that was supposed to reassure you, that it wasn't just you he found pathetic. Even so, you felt your throat burn with embarrassment, frustration, irritation.

Distraction came in the form of a hand on your head, patting at first, lightly, and then petting you just a little too roughly, like a child would a cat that they know probably won't make a fuss. "That's okay," Mahito soothed, "I like 'this' you." Oh. The embarrassment didn't disappear, the frustration lessened, and the irritation.... frustratingly, it just abandoned you.

Oh you were definitely pathetic. Why else would you think some creepy spirit in a sewer was charming?

[zephyoongist]

warnings: depiction of toxic relationship and pregnancy.

kim taehyung had only met you a few times.

once and twice for the date. thrice for the pregnancy test which he had only a day to prepare for. and the fourth time, he’d just came over to check up on you and ended up staying over when your ex came knocking on your door at ass crack o’clock.

you’d slipped out of bed and him being him, he’d trailed after you like a groggy puppy barely able to open his eyes when he’d first heard his voice. a sort of low timbre that seems to echo off the walls.

“three months down and you get with another man? really, ___?” 

taehyung isn’t much of a fighter - nor is he a peace keeper but at times like these, his instincts tend to make the calls for him. and before he knew it, his feet are padding over to you but he couldn’t go anywhere past that because you have the chain lock on and he’s forced to stand behind you where he can directly catch the unfamiliar face of a man, flushed and contorted with a sort of ugliness from within.

“we got a divorce, daniel,” you hiss out, “you took away my house, my car and even the dog - what the hell are you doing here?!”

“mark saw you with -” it’s only then that daniel seems to notice the man standing behind you with a hand on your waist and a feral calmness to his stare, “-with him.”

he’d said it as if taehyung is a few levels too low for you - when it’s the opposite. it’s him that’s out of your league. cute and funny and everything your ex-husband wasn’t.

“and?” you huff, exasperated.

then daniel’s eyes shift to you. first, confusion flashes across his face like a firework, then dejection and finally rage. the same old face he’d make when he’s upset over you pointing out his wrongs before he’d turn the table back to you and called you names you’d never call him.

“i thought we were making this work,” he lets out a sound between a scoff and a laugh - nothing that you’ve never seen him do when he tries to make it seem like everything’s going fine until ‘you’ dropped the bomb.

“just because i treated you like a decent human being doesn’t mean i want you to be a constant part of my life again - seriously, go home,” and with that, you slam the door in your ex-husband’s face.

twirling around, taehyung catches the mixture of emotions flooding in your eyes behind a steel wall, “sorry you had to see that.”

“it’s okay,” is his instinctive response, but then he realizes, “actually, it’s not okay - you said he lives two hours from you,” then he remembers that night when you’d cried in his arms right outside of the clinic where you’d just had your doctor’s appointment - the result came a few days after but you already knew, and by god you were terrified, “does he do this all the time?”

“no - this is the first,” you’re holding back tears, “but we have mutual friends and we text sometimes - just to ask how the other is doing because we decided to stay friends - i don’t know where he got the idea that we’re working it out-”

taehyung gathers you in his arms and kisses the top of your head as you try and fail and try again to hold the tears back. 

it’s only when morning comes, when he finds you in the kitchen cooking with a smile as bright as the sun and eyes a tad bit swollen but looking as beautiful as ever, that he carefully tip toes around you.

“i think you should move in with me,” he tries to sound casual as he guides the lukewarm pancake into his mouth.

“taehyung i can’t impose on you like that,” is what you say - and that’s when he looks up, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a sign of sincerity, “i know you’re worried about me but i’m fine.”

so he puts down the fork to reach for your hand across the counter, thumb caressing your knuckles, “i know but it’s okay not to be fine because i’m here now and i wanna take care of you - i wanna take care of our kid. will you let me do that?”

and he’s not sure if it’s love or if it’s a sense of responsibility in him. but when he sees you with your pregnant belly and lame but lovable sense of humor - nine months down the line, as he whispers ‘you can do this’ and ‘push, baby’ into your ears and when he sees your smile as you hold you and his child, he realizes that his love for you has grown as vast as the ocean and as infinite as the galaxy.

five years down the road, and you’re sporting the diamond ring he proposed to you with, he kisses the top of your head and wishes you a good morning whilst you grace him with the most ethereal smile before your eyebrows knit themselves together, turning to your kids.

“jimin, jeongguk! stop running in the house!” taehyung would say you’re a pretty strict mother - but it balances out because he can never say no to his boys.

the two groan, one five and the other three.

“but mom! we’re going on a pirate ship adventure!” the eldest laments and only then does taehyung see the black cap mirroring a pirate’s hat and the banana possibly a sword.

it’s only then do you turn on the stove, turning your full attention to your two rascals, “okay, but where’s the ship?”

the two turn to each other, before the youngest asks “what’s a chip?”

“a ship! like a big tree and it floats on water!” jimin shouts, hands flailing around to emphasize on the floating tree’s size as his brother’s mouth falls to the ground.

“woah,” jeongguk gasps.

“why don’t you go show jeongguk a ship, jimin?” taehyung suggests, picking up on your hint, “you know, that peter pan book i brought home for you guys yesterday - captain hook’s a pirate and he’s got a ship.”

“a ship! a ship!” jeongguk claps at the mere mention of it.

“come on!” jimin beckons before the two of them start zooming to their room and you yelling after them to “slow down, you two!”

“you’ve got some tension built up right here, darling,” he starts massaging your shoulders, sneaking in a kiss which you gladly accept before announcing.

“two,” you hold up two digits in his face, “two kids and i’m done - i told you.”

“yeah,” taehyung agrees.

it’s probably the lack of protest or the way he’s kissing your temple gently - but either way, it’s you that’s murmuring the opposite proposition, “would be nice if we had a girl though.”

“you want me to call my parents?” he beams, “ask if it’s okay send the kids there for the weekend.”

“yes!” you clap once and he’s reminded of his youngest and his habit of clapping at everything that excites him.

“okay,” he manages to slip a kiss on your forehead before two pairs of footsteps comes thundering into the kitchen, screaming “mommy! daddy! can you read us the story?”

you shake your head at the two’s antics, smile curling on your lips, “come on then.”

you make yourself to the room, jimin holding your hand while jeongguk goes on about captain ‘ook’ as taehyung carries him behind you.

meeting you was possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

[satendou]

⟼  the symbol for love

⟼ the language of flowers | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: akaashi/reader

⇢ au: florist!akaashi, college!au

⇢ summary:  akaashi’s love language is that of flowers

⇥  masterlist

⇢  warnings: mutual pining, flowers, soft smut

⇢  word count: 8.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  a/n: okay full disclosure, this fic only exists bc @keijiskitten​ sent in a picture of akaashi surrounded by flowers at the same time that i was talking about a roommate au. we talked more about it and she suggested confessing via flowers and i went overboard with it. this is another one i’m rather fond of and was written mostly with her in mind. so thank her for the idea!

It started off with heather, hyacinths, and jasmine.

Opening the door to the apartment you had been sharing with one Akaashi Keiji for the last seven months, you were hit with the delicate bouquet of fresh flowers, purple and blue and white, all artfully arranged in a vase on the coffee table. 

“Ah, those are so pretty, Akaashi,” you murmured to the man reading a book on the couch. It was a battered copy of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne and he was already halfway through it. The TV played a black and white movie, the volume turned so low you could hear only the soft crackle of sound playing through the speakers. “What are they?”

Occupied with taking off your shoes, you missed the faint pink dust that crept over his cheeks at your praise. By the time you turned back around, it had disappeared. He had closed the book and pulled the vase closer to him, slender fingers pulling three different stems out of the container and laying them across his palm.

“Heather,” he said, handing you the purple flower. “Jasmine.” The white one was handed to you. “And lastly, hyacinths.” The final blue flower was handed over, and you held them to your nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes fluttered and a soft smile crossed your lips as you looked over them at him.

“And what do these mean?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice. Akaashi was both a book and flower lover, so you knew that there were meanings behind the bouquet, right down to the number of flowers. “They smell so sweet.”

Akaashi chuckled at that. He always loved your reactions to his arrangements. They were so pure and genuine, like the flowers he handled on a daily basis, and oh so fragile. Over the course of the last few months, he had picked up on your habits and emotions, noting each time you felt anxious you would pick at the skin of your lips and run your fingers through your hair, or how when you were feeling extra tired you would just throw your hair up in a messy bun or a ponytail and go about your business. His favorite by far though was when you were relaxed and at ease-- when your face would soften, your eyes would brighten, and you would look at him with a smile that squeezed his heart.

“They were for a customer today and I just liked the arrangement,” he answered, and the lie tumbled from his lips with such ease that it almost scared him. “But they mean beauty and solitude, love, and playful and sincere.” He pointed out each flower as he spoke its meaning, in the order that he had handed them to you, resisting the urge to graze his fingers across your knuckles.

He caught the flustered glint in your eyes as you stared at them and smiled in response. That was the look he adored and he worked his hardest to bring it out as often as possible, especially lately. Finals were coming up and he had never seen you more stressed and harried, staying out and up late studying or finishing assignments. The bags under your eyes caused him some concern, and he did his best to help you with things, but with a flower shop to run it wasn’t easy.

“Did you have any plans tonight? We could order in, if you want,” he offered, and hoped that the desire was well hidden from his voice. It was the weekend, and usually you spent Friday nights with your friends. That didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Oh I’m sorry, I have a group project I have to work on,” you answered, and handed back the flowers that were still clasped in your hands. “I only came home to change and then I’m leaving.”

His heart fell, but he managed to keep his face straight. “Oh okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh, well I don’t know how late I’ll be, so don’t wait up,” you answered, your face the embodiment of apologetic. You wanted so badly to take him up on it, to get a break from the grueling hours of endless work, but the project needed to be handed in on Monday and no one wanted to be working on it all weekend-- not when there was studying and other assignments to be completed.

He could see the weariness on your face and took your hand in his, feeling his heart stutter when you squeezed back. Giving you a small smile, he said, “You can do this. Just a few more weeks and you’ll have a break. Just hang in there.”

“I know,” you said as you moved away from him, walking down the hall towards your bedroom. “Thank you for supporting me, ‘Kaashi. It means a lot.”

Then you were out of sight, the bedroom door closing with a soft click behind you and Akaashi was left staring at the flowers that spelled out all of the emotions he himself couldn’t express.

--

Two weeks later, you came into the apartment after a day full of nothing but stressful exams and irritable professors. On top of that, your thesis topic had been denied and you were more than a little anxious about trying to find a new one.

As observant as ever, Akaashi picked up on your mood the moment you texted him and frowned, looking at the bouquet he was currently working on. It was massive, standing taller than him and bursting with colors of all sorts. All of them symbolized love, cherishment, and a hope for the future. It was the final order for a wedding but he couldn’t care less about it all of a sudden.

Sending you a short message back, he returned to it, eyebrows now furrowed in concentration over on a different train of thought. Wracking his brain as best he could, he finished the arrangement up and called one of his employees to take it to the back, where it would be loaded up and taken to the venue. 

He helped put up the flowers on display in the coolers and then shooed the others out of the shop, flipping the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Moving into the back of the now empty shop, he pondered the flowers in stock, pinching delicate petals between his fingers as he went over the meanings for each.

Love, good health, solitude, remembrance-- it was easy for him to recall each, and he smiled as he landed on the ones he wanted. With a grace and quickness honed by years of practice, he put a small bouquet together, hoping that this small token would bring you some comfort.

And if that didn’t work, takeout from your favorite place probably would.

--

The door opened two hours after you had first texted Akaashi telling him your bad news. The response you had received had been lackluster, further souring your mood, and you were currently sprawled out on the couch moping with a mug of his tea.

Raising your brow at the way he held his hand behind his back, you took the bag he offered, instantly recognizing your favorite smells wafting from it. Your stomach grumbled, and you offered him a repentant smile because you knew he now knew you had neglected to eat that day.

Instead of saying anything about it, he just frowned before showing you what was behind his back, setting it on the table beside the bag, and your face lit up.

Pink, purple, and white seemed to pop in comparison to the rest of the room, vibrant and fresh, and you reached out, pulling one of each flower from the vase. The food sat forgotten on the table for the time being as you inhaled the blooms’ scents before offering them to him.

“Well, what are they and what do they mean?” you asked, and he chuckled at the enthusiasm written across your face. Over the last few weeks, it had become something of a ritual for him to bring home a few flowers for you, laying them on the coffee table for you to find when you got home from a late night study session or handing them to you as he left for work in the morning. 

It was hard not to appreciate how invested you seemed to be in it, and he tried hard not to read too much into it. That was far easier said than done though, especially when your eyes lit up with wonder and happiness, looking first at the flower and then at him. It was the biggest reason he did it, but it left him feeling empty in some ways, wondering if you would look at him the same way if he didn’t bring them to you.

Still, he wouldn’t stop-- even that little bit of attention meant something to him, so he took the flowers you now offered from your hands and spun the purple one between his slender fingers. 

“Violets mean peace, or in this case relaxation,” he said, and immediately caught the understanding dawning on your face. By the time he explained the meaning behind the peonies-- good fortune or luck-- it had morphed into something so unbearably soft that his insides twisted into knots that would never come undone. 

“And the jasmines mean-- love,” you said, and your expression morphed into confusion as you took them back from him.

“W-Well, in this case they’re just for optimism and good fortune. I guess a different flower would have been better--”

--but any other wouldn’t have meant the same thing.

He cursed himself for being so obvious and swallowed nervously, waiting for your response. In another situation, he might have said the look that flashed across your pensive face was disappointment, but he was sure he was just deluding himself. 

And sure enough, your lips curled up into your usual smile as you thanked him for the flowers, support, and, most importantly, food.

The relief was tempered by disappointment that you accepted his lie so easily before he launched into a lecture about how you should take better care of yourself and threatened to come to the campus and drag you off to lunch himself if he had to. The living room was filled with banter while you ate, suggesting maybe you wouldn’t mind him coming and kidnapping you for lunch if he would take you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he promised he would because that just meant he’d get to spend even more time with you and you didn’t look the least bit unhappy with the development. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach as you planned to meet at the restaurant around one.

That night, you stayed in with him watching old movies that he knew you didn’t like, sharing a blanket thrown across your legs, but he appreciated the way you kept picking them anyway. The flowers were moved to the kitchen counter, illuminated by the overhead light, and more than once he caught you looking at them with a soft, wistful sort of smile.

--

The first lunch date was followed by several more over the coming weeks, whenever the gap in your schedule coincided with his lunch break. Of course, he could take lunch whenever he wanted, being the owner, but Akaashi was nothing if not a courteous boss and chose not to do that to his employees.

Today you were running late, and your order had just arrived when you flung yourself into your seat, out of breath and grinning maniacally. It was the look you usually wore when something had both gone your way and was going to surprise him and it didn’t fail this time either.

“I got a fucking S, ‘Kaashi!” you said, slamming the paper down on the table between you. His eyes widened and you practically glowed at the stunned expression. It made his blue eyes sparkle, and when he looked up at you there was such pride in them that your heart skipped a beat.

“_____, that’s amazing,” he said, picking up the paper to examine it. It was littered with your handwriting, each answer meticulously thought out and he could even see some of his influence in your answers-- certain things worded certain ways or words he had said repeated in ink. There was something about knowing you listened to his advice that closely that made him anxious, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or a bad way. “I’m so proud of you.”

This test had been weighing heavy on you for a month, and most of your focus was on passing it, since it was your worst subject. It was too important to fail, and you had stayed up late into the night working on your problem areas, with Akaashi coming in clutch with advice and explanations-- and coffee-- when you needed it.

A flood of adoration swept through you as you stared at your pretty roommate. He was the picture of calm, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed back at you, grey-blue eyes narrow with what you guessed was contentment.

Suddenly, this felt a lot less platonic than it had originally, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. You couldn’t go down that line of thinking, it would only lead to disappointment. No way was this gorgeous man interested in a stressed out, exhausted, anxious mess of a college student and you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up. 

“A lot of it was because of you, you know,” you said, schooling your expression into what you hoped was grateful and not at all nervous. He didn’t react other than a widening of his smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, so you assumed you had managed it. “I mean it. You explain things so well, it’s easy to understand. And you’re patient, even though you had to explain things to me like a hundred times. I would definitely have failed without you.”

His eyes widened again in surprise, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked contemplative, a myriad of emotions swimming through his eyes but you couldn’t pick out any one in particular. At the end though, you thought there might have been something akin to melancholy as he looked down at his yet untouched food, tea long since gone cold.

Before you could ponder that, his expression settled back into the placid calm you were accustomed to and he said, “No, I think you could have done it. You put so much effort into studying, I thought you were going to pass out mid-exam. How many do you have left now?”

The conversation veered off into the rest of your exams and plans for the break in a week’s time-- of which you were unsure, since you had a few offers for vacations and trips-- as you ate.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of papers, pens, and faces, and you were relieved to finally unlock the door to your apartment. Akaashi had texted you earlier saying he was going to be out late and you had slumped in disappointment, already wondering what you were going to do all alone that night.

But when you opened the door, you perked back up almost immediately.

Sitting on the coffee table was the vase, containing an iris, a yellow rose, and another white jasmine. In it was a note written in perfect, crisp cursive--

‘Blue Iris--faith. Yellow rose-- congratulations. I always knew you could do it, _____.’

For some reason, you couldn’t stop from plucking the jasmine.

--

Finals flew by in what felt like a whirlwind of late nights, coffee, and ink smudges. Every day brought tests, but every evening brought you a new flower and you were running out of space for them. 

Irises, yellow roses, red mums, tiger lilies, and peonies were taking up every ounce of excess space you had and your room smelled like a garden. You couldn’t be happier, either. Akaashi seemed to have a sixth sense for what you needed on any given day and you always looked forward to getting home.

On the final day of your exams there was another round of irises, roses, and jasmines waiting for you, and as you twisted the stem of the white flower between your fingers, you were tempted to ask why this particular flower always found its way into his bouquets. But a bigger part of you didn’t want to know, wanted to let it remain a sweet mystery in case he decided to stop. You knew why you wanted to let it be-- you were afraid that asking would lead to an answer you didn’t want, and the hope you harbored was a pleasant pain.

“So,” Akaashi asked, breaking your pondering, “have you decided what you’re doing for the break?” You were staring far too hard at the fresh white jasmine and jumped when he spoke, making him chuckle. 

You hummed in response, tucking the flower back into the vase on the counter and then looked over to him, perched on the stool beside yours. There was a book, another Jules Verne novel, sitting in front of him, a bookmark hanging out of the top. Resting your head on your arms, you said, “Yeah. A few of my friends decided to go to the beach, so I’m gonna go with them. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he said, mimicking you. The air conditioner clicked on overhead and you shrugged. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing of his heart, wishing he could go with you. But not only had you not invited him, he also had no one to watch the store for him. “Do you not want to go?”

“It isn’t that,” you answered, but it was sort of a lie. You did want to go, to relax and have some fun, and you deserved that. But then why did you feel sad that you were leaving? You already knew, as you and Akaashi stared at each other, that it was him. Even for just a few days, you would miss him terribly, and he wasn’t even yours to miss. Sad, really, how pathetic you felt. “I just...I don’t know. There’s gonna be so many people and it’s gonna be loud and I just want to relax.”

“Then tell them you don’t want to go.” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. It managed to draw a grin out of you, even though you still shook your head.

“I’ve already committed. And besides, it’s only for a few days. Then I’ll come back and not do anything for the next week,” you said, and Akaashi chuckled. 

“Well,” he said as he sat up, and you automatically followed suit, “we should eat so you can pack, since I’m sure you haven’t even started.”

Groaning, you hid your face in your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile. “Don’t call me out. I’ve been doing everything perfectly for the last month, I deserve to slack off a little.”

Akaashi was already scrolling through DoorDash on his phone and laughed again. “Of course you do, but don’t complain to me about it when you’re up at 5am packing.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’ll already be up anyway. I don’t know how you do it,” you said, staring at the flowers once more. You didn’t even bother to ask Akaashi what he was ordering because he knew you like the back of his hand, and whatever he got would be something you liked. 

He hummed in response, placing his order before looking at you. “Wanna watch a movie? Unless you have something else planned?”

But you shook your head and his heart fluttered. 

“Nah, a movie sounds great.”

--

It was only a week, he kept telling himself. And yet he missed you to the point he was almost moping. The apartment still smelled of all the flowers he had filled it with over the last few weeks, but it was fading fast without you to bring new ones home too. He shook his head at his ridiculous train of thought. It wasn’t like you were gone forever, you were still coming home in just a few days.

And he wasn’t sure if it helped that you were constantly blowing up his phone. Pictures and videos of tidepools, fish in the aquarium you had visited, sunsets on the water, and meals with your friends flooded his inbox and he eagerly scanned each one, drinking in your content smile.

But even through a picture, he could see something was missing from it. He knew you too well and looked way too hard not to notice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. At least until one video in particular of you in what he recognized as a botanical garden-- the high, domed ceiling made of glass and the condensation obscuring his view of the sky, not to mention the plants literally everywhere gave it away. You were staring down at a box full of white flowers, but were too far away for him to recognize them until whoever was holding the camera got closer.

A male voice called out to you, amused and maybe a little condescending if Akaashi had to say so, asking, “Hey, _____, watcha lookin’ at?”

You visibly jumped in the frame and cast your friend a nervous smile before it cleared up, and in that moment the something Akaashi hadn’t seen in any other picture showed up, just before you reached out and grazed one of the dewy white petals.

Jasmine, he thought, at the same time that you said it. Heat rushed from his ears down to his toes and back up as he recognized the adoration and unadulterated happiness in your smile, and not even the camera-wielder’s derisive laugh could quell the feeling.

“You and your plants. Well, what’s this one mean then?”

If you noticed the tone, you didn’t show it, only standing up straight and putting your finger up in the air as if giving him a lesson as you said, “Jasmine stands for optimism, good fortune, and positive energy. And--”

Love, Akaashi thought, once again at the same time you said it, and he had to sit down at the counter as his nerves got the best of him. He couldn’t take it, the way you stared into the camera with a sharp, knowing look, like you were piercing right into his soul. If his game was given away, then so be it, he was going to confess properly instead of hiding behind his flowers.

Your friend laughed again, and this time Akaashi could see the way you flinched and rolled your eyes, walking away as he mocked you.

“Sure, sure. You really believe in that? Sounds corny if you ask me,” he said, voice crackly through the speaker as the sprinklers came on. He cursed and the video quickly cut out afterwards, probably to protect it from water damage.

Akaashi rewatched that video three more times before finally sending you a text telling you he was flattered that you remembered so much of his ramblings. Laughing, he set his phone down and carded his fingers through his hair, hiding his face in his arms as he thought about what he was planning to do and the ramifications. Was there any way he could salvage it if you rejected him? Was it even worth the risk right now?

There was no answer to his anxious questions, so he did what he always did when he needed something to occupy his mind-- he arranged flowers.

A couple of hours later, your phone pinged with a new alert, and you swiped it open absently as you sipped at a pina colada, almost choking on it when the picture loaded.

Pink, white, and blue all mixed together in an explosion of color on what you guessed was his workbench at the shop. It was one of his most elegant bouquets yet, at least as far as you were concerned, and your curiosity was white hot as you texted him.

‘what are they, kaashi? what do they mean?’

You waited impatiently for him to answer, but he never did, not even reading it. You were a flurry of nerves all that night, warring between calling him, texting him, and just leaving it be. So distracted were you that you lost count of how many drinks you’d had, until you and the rest of your friends were so far gone the bartender cut you off and you made your way up to your rooms to pass out.

You had never been happier to be going home than you were that morning, hungover and still without an answer from your roommate.

--

Unfortunately, you made a mistake on the drive home. Still distracted by your anxious energy, you scrolled through your phone, liking and commenting on things absently while you listened to your friends chatter in the backseat.

Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder and a rough voice was in your ear, asking “Do you want to go, _____?”

Not thinking much of it, you agreed, checking your texts again just to see if he’d even read the few you’d sent-- nothing, and you went from worried to hurt. Why had he sent you that picture and then just ignored you afterwards? He was still active on Twitter and Instagram, so you knew he hadn’t fallen off his step stool at the shop. What was his deal?

Your apartment building came into view at last, and your heart picked up speed. It was the weekend, he should be home at this hour. What was he going to say? Or do? You had never been so nervous to get home-- or go home-- as you were just then, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Looking to your friend, Eiji, you found him looking at you expectantly. 

“I’ll wait for you here, alright? Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and laughed at the puzzled expression on your face. “You forget already, _____? You agreed to a date. But I figured you’d want to change before we went so…”

“Oh, uh, right,” you said, wracking your brain for when the hell you had agreed to that. His question from earlier drifted through your thoughts, and you could have smacked yourself for being so oblivious. It felt rude to just...change your mind right then, so you braced yourself to suffer through the date. Eiji was nice enough, if not a little pretentious. Nothing like Akaashi-- 

But you decided not to go down that path.

Grabbing your bag from the trunk, you raced up the steps to the apartment as fast as you could, missing the lock at least twice with how bad your hands were shaking. Flinging the door open, you startled Akaashi, who was sitting on the couch staring at yet another bouquet of flowers.

You stood staring at him, and him back at you, with wide, nervous eyes, neither of you saying anything for a moment, until--

“Welcome home.”

The irritation that had been building all day simmered over as you realized he had actually been ignoring you for no good reason, and then had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

“Hey.”

He didn’t miss the cool edge to your greeting as you wandered towards your room with your bag, sparing the vase on the table the smallest glance. The door closed behind you and you dropped your bag beside the closet, trying to ignore the anger and hurt flowing through you. Your head was starting to hurt again and you really just wanted to lay down for a nap, but your phone dinged, lighting up with Eiji’s name, asking how much longer you were going to be.

Ignoring the temptation to cancel-- you really didn’t want to be rude-- you hurriedly changed into something more appropriate and combed through your hair. Scrunching your nose, you winced at the sunburn you could feel covering your face, wondering how you had gotten it even with your religious use of sunscreen.

Akaashi was still sitting on the couch, the book he had been reading closed on his lap as he stared at the bouquet on the table. When you came into the living room, he perked up, a nervous smile coming onto his face.

“Hey, I wanted to talk-- Are you going somewhere?” He had just realized you had changed into a new outfit and there was a restless energy in the way you checked your phone. You had just gotten home, but you were already ready to leave again. 

There was irritation on your face as you glanced up from your phone, and he was unable to tell if it was directed at him or whoever was texting you, but it morphed quickly into apologetic as you sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a date. I’ll be back in a bit. We can talk then?”

You didn’t sound too happy about that, and Akaashi definitely wasn’t, but his words stuck in his throat. A date. Jealousy bubbled viciously in his stomach, oozing into his heart and up his throat, and he jerked his head once, willing the tide to stem until you had left. It was his own fault, after all, for waiting so long to ask and then ignoring you for a day.

He was such a coward.

Staring at your phone again, you missed the pinched narrowing of his eyes and headed towards the door, waving goodbye before closing it behind you.

--

It was only an hour or two later-- you weren’t totally sure, since you weren’t even sure when you had gotten home and abruptly left again-- that you were dragging your sore feet up the steps to the apartment again. The date had gone horribly wrong, right from the start.

Differences of opinion, differences of interests, his disinterest in listening to you talk about anything you were interested in, it seemed like the two of you just couldn’t sync up to have an actual conversation.

Not to mention how you kept inadvertently comparing him to Akaashi, from the way he spoke to you to the way he spoke of other people, right down to the way he ate, for fuck’s sake. You had it bad, and the date was a terrible idea.

When you stepped into the apartment it was quiet and mostly dark, only the lamp on the side table on, and you wondered if Akaashi had either left or gone to bed.

The vase still sat on the table, illuminated in the soft yellow light, and you recognized red roses, tulips, carnations, and the ever present jasmine. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you kicked off your shoes before sitting on the couch. As ever, the arrangement was flawless, all the flowers mixed together with perfect balance, and you burst into tears. 

It was too obvious, now that you thought about it.

Almost two months of flowers, at least one everyday, a bouquet for every milestone or when you were feeling down, his strange text yesterday and how he wanted to talk to you today-- you really were an idiot.

And then you get home and tell him you have a date-- it must have felt like a slap to the face, and the sick queasiness in your stomach was no less than you deserved for doing that to him, for being so blind.

As quiet as you tried to be, you must still have made too much noise-- that or he wasn’t asleep in the first place-- because there was a weight on the couch beside you and an arm around your shoulder.

Soft words you couldn’t comprehend were whispered into your ear, that same arm pulling you close into his chest, where it was joined by the other one around your back. The tears continued to fall, wetting his shirt, your fingers wrinkling it where they twisted in, and he held you until you finally quieted.

“What’s going on, _____? Did your date hurt you?” he asked and, now that you were calm enough to listen, you could hear the panic and worry in his words. 

Taking deep, gulping breaths to steady yourself, you shook your head. “No, nothing like that, I-- ‘Kaashi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid date, he was such a jerk and all I could think about was you and then I came home and saw the flowers and I realized--”

He shifted against you, petting your hair as you stumbled over your words. He could hear the unshed tears building up again and rushed to soothe you before they could spill over. “Woah, hey, slow down. Why were you thinking of me on your date?”

You paused to look up at him, tan skin and blue eyes backlit by the lamp, face twisted in confusion and you had the insane urge to laugh. He was so beautiful it was unfair, how could he ever want a stressed out mess like you?

“I think I love you, Akaashi,” you whispered, and then dropped your eyes down to his chest, unable to stand the fear of rejection. 

A soft hand cupped your cheek, thumb sliding across your cheekbone before tilting your head up to face him again. 

His nose brushed yours and you swore your heart stopped, a soft noise leaving the back of your throat as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you closed the distance, grazing his lips in what could barely be called a kiss and only left you aching for more. He delivered, slanting his lips across yours, molding them together and your head spun with a mixture of relief and desire. The scent of the flowers on the table mingled with the smell that always came off of him, a heady perfume of hundreds of different flowers that you couldn’t get enough of. It clung to his skin, his clothes, and now you, and you allowed your hands to run over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time you parted, you had crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and followed that up with several small kisses afterwards. His hands found their way up your shirt, stroking along your spine and squeezing your side as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’ve been telling me all this time, haven’t you?” you asked, barely a whisper, and he chuckled breathlessly in response.

“Yeah. I guess it was too subtle,” he answered, and then kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough, not after he had waited so long to taste you. His palms smoothed up your back, just beneath the strap of your bra, and you shivered in his hold. “I can show you now, if you want?”

You shivered at the warm promise in his words and nodded. “Please, ‘Kaashi.”

He hummed in response, leading a trail of kisses across your cheek to just beneath your ear. Nimble fingers unclasped your bra beneath your shirt, and then came back down to grip your thighs. With a strength you hadn’t expected, he hoisted you up from the couch, carrying you down the hall and kicking open his door. 

You had been in his room countless times before, but it took on a different view when you were laid on your back on his bed, surrounded by a dark grey blanket with him hovering over you. He was stripping out of his shirt, and you licked your lips at each inch of skin that was exposed. His muscles rippled as he pulled it over his head, revealing his lean chest, flushed as red as his cheeks as he caught you staring.

“What is it?” he asked as he propped himself up over you. He was still standing, your legs hanging off the side of the bed and he nudged them open, slotting himself between your thighs. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights as you looked from his face down to the bulge in his shorts, settled right against the crotch of your jeans. 

“You’re just-- so pretty, Akaashi,” you whispered, trailing the fingers of one hand down his throat and chest, watching the muscles on his stomach jump and flex. Your head was still spinning with all this new information, but you weren’t about to let it overwhelm you. Wrapping your other arm around his neck, you pulled him down for another searing kiss, his lips turning up against yours.

When he pulled back, he was blushing, but there was a steely, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not as pretty as you, kitten. I think these clothes need to go. I want to feel you,” he said, tugging your shirt over your head. You sat up to help him and followed that by throwing your bra to the floor beside him, and he groaned. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Palming your breasts in his hands, he pinched your nipples between his fingers, feeling you shiver beneath him. Your back arched, begging him silently for more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. You looked so good, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide and pupils blown out, lips parted in pleasure. His cock ached at the sight, and he gave into the temptation to grind his hips into yours, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

Fingers wrapped around the hard muscle of his bicep. “Akaashi, please.”

“Keiji. Say it,” he commanded even as his fingers trailed down from your breasts to your stomach. He smiled when you giggled but didn’t prolong it, instead flicking the button of your jeans open. They were tugged roughly down your legs and discarded, and then he was tracing the outside of your panties, watching you squirm.

Your lips parted as he ghosted his fingers over your clit, panties already dampe under his touch. “Kei-ji, touch me, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Whatever you need, kitten. I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the gusset of your panties aside. You were already so slick, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers rubbed over your folds. The heel of his hand grazed your clit and you were desperate for more. “You’re so beautiful, _____. So wet for me.”

You nodded in agreement, tears of frustration beginning to sting your eyes, and you called his name when he finally sunk one long, slender finger into your tight heat. You clenched around him as his thumb found your clit, pumping in and out of you. A second finger soon joined the first, his heated eyes locked on your slick covering his palm and the way your pussy seemed to suck them back in hungrily. A mess of moans and his name fell from your lips, accentuated by the thrust of your hips as you seeked out more of his touch.

With a groan he sank to his knees, letting his tongue replace his thumb and he swore he’d never tasted anything sweeter on his tongue.

“God, princess, you taste so good,” he groaned against your clit, and you spasmed around him at the sensation. His fingers were long enough that you could feel him toy with your cervix on every thrust, and your toes curled when he grazed over the spongy spot on your walls. “Need you to cum on my fingers, okay? Then I can fill up this pretty pussy.”

You gasped at his words, not expecting anything that filthy from your soft spoken roommate. That coupled with the mental image of him sliding his cock into you drove you right over the precipice of your orgasm.

He moaned, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers, and his cock twitched.

When he stood up, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and spread legs, pussy glistening. Arousal and contentment flooded his system, purely happy that he finally had you laying before him as he’d dreamt so many times before, and he let his shorts drop to the floor.

Your jaw dropped as he pumped his shaft a few times, smearing the precum already leaking down his thick shaft. It was a good thing he had prepared you, but the thought of having to stretch to take him was equally tempting. The slick sounds made you squirm, wanting to be filled and stretched. You locked your ankles around his thighs, earning a chuckle.

“Patience, kitten. Slide up the bed,” he said, watching you move backwards until you were laying in the center.

The bed dipped under his weight and he crawled over you, shoving his knees beneath your thighs. Hoisting your legs up to lock around his hips, he let his cock settle against your folds. You shuddered when he slid across your still sensitive clit, whining low in your throat.

“Too sensitive, kitten? Want to stop?” he teased, and laughed at the look of panic that flashed across your face. You shook your head frantically, legs tightening around him, and he soothed you by cupping your cheek. “Me either. I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

There was a promise in his eyes, and you were still trying to connect the Akaashi you knew with this one, the one that was cajoling and teasing and making you ache with a need to be filled with his thick cock.

“Please, Keiji,” you murmured, laying your hand atop his and nuzzling against his palm. “I want you inside me. Wanted you for so long, please don’t tease.”

He smiled in response, guiding himself to your entrance and you moaned as the head of his cock slipped in and you accidentally clenched around him when you thought of having all of him. A hiss filled your ears and he thrust the rest of the way in, your cunt parting around him like it was made for him.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, trying to control the temptation to rock his hips. You were trembling underneath him, and he braced himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. “Need you to squeeze around me again, pretty girl. Please*.”

You earned a gasp when you did, his hips jerking down into you, his pubic bone grinding your clit and you mewled his name.

“K-Keiji, a-ah, that feels so good,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. Your legs tightened around him, keeping him in place as he rocked into you in short, shallow thrusts. 

“Good girl. You feel so good, kitten. So tight and wet. God.” His voice was low and gravelly, eyes shut tight as he fisted the blankets by your head. He kept up that steady pace, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was pistoning into you. The wet slap of his hips against yours filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of his name. Each thrust hit every sweet spot, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your clit, driving you quickly towards your end again. Your nails dug into biceps as your hips rose to meet his, and when he opened his eyes he found you staring at him with open love and lust.

His lips crashed against yours, forcing you to swallow the loud groan that he uttered when he slowed and circled his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into your tight cunt. Your back arched, forcing your chest against his, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Need you to cum for me, kitten,” he whispered against your lips, repeating that same circling motion. The way he rubbed your clit and ground into your cervix flung you over the edge with a wail of his name. You squeezed so tight around him that his hips jerked and he found himself cumming, painting your insides white, unable to pull away because your legs were still locked around him. “*Shit, goddammit*.”

He let his head fall to the bed beside you, sliding his arms up until he was pressed flush against you. Breathing shakily, you let your hands roam his back, spreading the sweat that had built up. Your hips were starting to hurt and Akaashi noticed them shaking and sat up, pulling out of you so he could put your legs down.

“Akaashi, I--” you started to say, but he cupped your cheek and covered your lips with his thumb, cutting you off.

“It’s still Keiji, pretty girl. And I think we can talk about this in the bath,” he said, helping you up and off the bed.

After the bath was drawn and you were settled comfortably against his chest, drawing random patterns on his skin, he let you speak.

“What’re we gonna do now, Keiji? We already live together, I guess. Nothing’s going to change, right?” you asked, watching drops of water roll down his skin. He was so warm and you found yourself wanting to fall asleep, you were so comfortable.

His soft fingers were trailing up and down your back, his arm resting on the side of the tub, and he hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Well, I’d like to date you, if that’s acceptable. Otherwise  no, I don’t believe anything will change. Other than I’ll fall in love with you even more, _____.”

The back of your neck grew hot at his words and you hid your face behind your hands, fighting the heat that spread all over. Your heart stuttered and you whined even as your eyes stung. That was all you had wanted over the course of the last several months, and now here he was telling you exactly what you wanted to hear. It was an actual dream come true.

Once you had fought the embarrassment back down you turned to look up at him.

It was a fruitless endeavor because the soft, loving gaze you met made it erupt all over again, and you kissed the smirk right off his pretty lips for it.

“I love you, Keiji,” you whispered against his lips, and smiled when you heard the words breathed back. Settling back down, you resumed your doodling, spelling out different things against his slick skin, and then asked, “The flowers in the picture you sent. What were they and why did you send it and then ignore me?”

He chuckled at the petulant tone, the sound pleasant in your ear where it rested over his heart, before answering.

“Well, you had just sent that video of you in the garden and after watching it, I decided I was going to confess when you got home. The flowers just helped ground me.” Guilt flooded you again as you remembered how you had brushed him off when you walked through the door and, as if he could sense it, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, princess. I deserved it after ignoring you. I was just scared to tell you because I couldn’t tell you the meanings behind them without giving myself away.

You relaxed in his hold again, tilting your head up to look at him and were floored all over again. You would surely never get tired of the soft adoration in his beautiful eyes and hoped it would never fade. “So, what were they then?”

“Azalea’s for homesickness, because you took my heart with you. Camellia’s for passion, because that’s how strongly I feel about you. Forget-me-nots for love, so you don’t forget. And jasmine because they’re your favorite, and I love you with my whole being.”

The words were whispered into your hair, the only other sound besides the gentle sloshing of water as he had started to rock you back and forth, fingers cupping your neck to hold you too him, and the tears that had burned earlier welled over as you realized how deeply he meant those words and how deeply he had embedded himself into your heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that the tears spilling down his chest were good, not when they were overlaid with kisses everywhere you could manage, and then you stilled, content to just let him hold you after that. No other words were said until the water grew colder and you shivered.

“We should go to bed. It’s already very late,” he murmured, and helped you to stand. His breath hitched as the water cascaded down your body, feeling arousal build all over again. He ignored it as you toweled off and redressed, snagging his shirt up before he could grab it and slipping it over your head. “You are not helping me to keep my hands off you, kitten,” he growled, grabbing you by the hips and guiding you towards his bedroom.

You let him lead you with no resistance besides pausing to wiggle against him and giggling when he sighed in mock exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not trying to,” you said, sauntering towards the bed.

“If that’s the case,” he answered, pinning you to the mattress. Your legs naturally came up to hook over his hips and his shorts slipped down, exposing his already hard cock. “I guess we aren’t ready for bed yet.”

⇥  masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @sluttony​, @visaintes​, @yunhosblackgf​, @super-noya​, @byebyes-world​, @newfriendjen​

[erosofthepen]

Gimlelul

Haha, i have a habit of disappearing because i want to finish a story but feel bad about coming back when it’s not finished. This is something I had an idea for at work, i hope you all enjoy it. It’s kinda dumb but cute too i guess.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Words: 1700 (an exact number!??)

Warnings: None. Unless cheesy Kili is a warning.

The journey, however repetitive and boring it could be, did offer some enjoyment for you. Most of this enjoyment sourced from the young Prince Kili.

In the three months since the journey had begun, you and the Prince had developed a habit of stargazing each night, just after dinner, but before first watch. It never failed to brighten even the most dull of times. You would both make up new patterns and constellations in the sky, and your favorite so far was ‘Thorin’s Stompy Boot’, which had a base in the Lyre and built into… well the name is pretty self explanatory.

However, the dullness of the journey vanished in the span of one night, and it was rather difficult to fit in the time to stargaze. Between the three trolls who almost ate the whole company, the strange brown wizard who appeared to be on an overconsumption of… magic mushrooms, the incredibly tiring and terrifying chase by wargs and orcs, and arriving in the valley of the elves, it had been next to impossible to spend time with Kili to look at the stars.

Today was the third night in Rivendell, and while you thought it to be the most peaceful and safe place in all of Middle Earth, Thorin thought otherwise, and warned against falling into a state of security. On this particular night, Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and the King himself had gone off somewhere, and Thorin had left strict orders for the company to stick together and not stray away. These orders, of course, were ignored.

Bombur had left for the kitchens quite some time ago, ‘for provisions’, and it did not appear that he would be back anytime soon. Ori (with the help of Nori), had snuck off into one of the elven libraries, and you expected him to be there for quite some time. Bifur had left almost the second after Thorin, and there was no sign of him anywhere. Not that you were worried. Fili and Kili had disappeared as well, and there wasn’t a clue of where they had gone off too. Dwalin, ever the loyal warrior, stood watch over camp, on the lookout for spying elves.

You were by the fire, fiddling with the straps on your boot. The blasted buckle kept coming loose, and you were determined to fix it before departing from this beautiful valley. Unfortunately, several grueling minutes later, you had sighed and resolved to ask Bifur for help when he returned from wherever he was.

“Having trouble, my lady?” You looked up to see that Fili and Kili had returned, and the younger of the two had apparently been watching you fight a losing battle with your boot straps.

“Aye, my prince. But I reckon Bifur can aid me when he returns.”

“And why Bifur?” He asked, “Am I not handy enough to aid you in your time of need?”

“Ha. I think not, as you struggle with even buckling your own boots in the morning.”

Kili laughed and came to sit down beside you, taking the boot from your hand and eyeing the trouble.

“You know,” He said, “all you have to do is straighten out the metal here, and it would be fine. Also might be a good idea to get the rust gone.”

“I know that much,” You replied, reaching for your boot back. But Kili pulled away, now grasping the buckle in his hand.

“I could fix it now, if you’d like.” he offered, eyes still glued to the boot strap.

“It’s alright Kili--”

But the prince had already started working the metal with his bare hands, twisting the iron back into place by dwarven strength alone. Once he was satisfied, he fiddled with it, making sure it worked properly.

“There you go (Y/N), should be good as new, except the rust. We’ll get that cleaned up on the ‘morrow.” He said, handing you back your boot.

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“Nonsense, it was nothing,” he replied, “But how about we take it for a test walk? Just to make sure it’s back to normal?” without waiting for a reply, he stood and offered his hand. You grinned and quickly got your boots on before taking his hand and getting up.

“Oi, where are you two going?” Dwalin called.

“Not far, we’ll be back shortly!” Kili said, quickly grasping your hand and hurrying along before Dwalin could object.

The two of you walked for quite some time, much farther than Dwalin would approve of, but it was nice to finally spend some time with Kili. You talked of the chaotic ventures of the past few days, and Kili joked that it had been the only exciting thing to happen so far.

“I mean, we’re going to a mountain with a dragon. You’d think there would be more of a thrill, wouldn’t you?

“You speak too much Kili. Getting shoved into sacks by trolls was enough excitement to last a lifetime. The orc pack was just terrifying. I’m perfectly content with the journey to continue on as normal from here on out, without any more surprises happening.”

“Oh, come now (Y/N), where’s the fun in that? As I recall, you were saying that the routine of the journey was incredibly boring just last week.”

“That was before the trolls, Kili. And you best be cautious, a dragon, however far off, is not something to treat as a mere adventure. It’s going to be very dangerous.”

Kili sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“I know, but still--” The young prince stopped quite suddenly and looked around.

“Kili?” you asked.

“There’s a place Fili and I found, I’m just trying to remember if we already passed it or not…” He looked around again, before backtracking a few steps. Then he seemed to remember, and looked up for a moment.

“Alright, follow me, it’s a bit off the path, but it’s worth it. Promise.”

Despite the warnings in your mind, you followed Kili up a rocky slope, occasionally needing his assistance with some of the trickier parts. You climbed a good fifteen minutes before he stopped and turned sideways. Before setting off, he looked back at you and grabbed your hand.

“It can be a bit slippery from here on, so be careful.”

Now you could see what you supposed his destination was. A rocky ledge stood a few meters away, high above the rest of the valley. The Prince led you along the entire way.

Eventually, you reached the ledge and were able to gaze around. It was stunning, to say the least. Rivendell looked even more beautiful at night than it did during the day, with lanterns and candles glowing about the houses and courtyards. Moonlight reflected off of fountains and roofs, and filtered through leaves to create patterns on the ground below. The faint sound of elven flutes and harps rang throughout the air, blending beautifully with waterfalls around the valley, and you soon realized that the waterfalls were instruments in the song too.

You also realized that Kili had not released his hold on your hand, but you weren’t going to bring that up in fear that he might stop.

“Nice view, is it not?” he asked.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

He flashed you a smile before taking a seat on the stone, pulling you down to sit beside him.

“I figured this would be a lovely place for stargazing, Gimlelul.”

You felt like you should know what that word meant, but it had been long since you had had to converse in dwarvish beyond simple phrases. But the young prince continued on before you could give it much thought.

“The stars seem so much brighter here, don’t they? And much more numerous.”

You nodded in agreement. “They do indeed. It’s almost impossible to pick out a single star with how many there are.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Kili replied, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t think so. Too many stars to find a constellation.”

“Well, how about something easy then. What about the brightest star? Find that.”

You turned your gaze upwards, searching in vain for the North Star. The longer you looked up, the brighter all the stars seemed. After a few minutes of  straining your eyes, you groaned and turned to Kili.

“It’s impossible. My eyes hurt from staring at the stars.”

Kili grinned.

“You admit defeat?”

“If only to save my poor eyes.”

“Well, you really are bad at this aren’t you? The brightest star is the easiest thing to find, see?”

Frustrated, you turned your gaze back to the heavens and searched again.

“You can’t possibly pick out the North Star from here, Kili. There’s just far too many of them.”

“Who said anything about the North Star? I asked for the brightest star.”

“The North Star is the brightest Star, you idiot! That’s the most basic knowledge anyone can have!”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. While the North Star is the brightest star in the sky, the brightest star in existence is sitting right in front of me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, before groaning.

“Oh come on Kili,”

“No, I'm serious! You are the brightest star in the whole of Middle Earth.”

You gave him a look, but smiled all the same.

“That’s… ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it? It seemed fitting for you. You know, I can see starlight in your eyes all the time? Doesn’t matter what time of day, there’s always stars that glitter in your eyes. It’s incredibly distracting.”

At this point, what could a person do but get flustered, as a prince said all these lovely things to them.

“Kili, what are you saying, exactly?”

“Is it not obvious, Gimlelul?”

There was that word again. The meaning seemed to be right on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t place it. Suddenly, Kili drew much nearer, and placed a kiss on your temple.

“Men Iananubukhs me,” He whispered. “My brightest star.”

‘Oh’, you thought. ‘Right. That’s what it means.’

The two of you spent much of the night up on the ledge, Only coming down when the stars started disappearing to make way for the sun.

Gimlelul: My brightest/glittering star

Men Iananubukhs me: I love you

[angst-fairygodmother]

Feelings an’ Shit Ep1: Fall (Misfits; Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’m not going to follow the whole continuity of the show, and most things are going to be in between/canon divergent but there’s a handful of episodes I want to do stuff with, including the first, since it only makes sense. Word Count: 2185 Rating: T - canon-typical violence, canon-typical swearing

You watched as the curly-haired kid bounced around, taunting the other one and couldn’t resist a snort of amusement. He turned back to you, flashing you a dramatic wink and waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, nodding back to Hat Guy who was still foaming at the mouth for a fight. Curly continued to antagonize, playing it up for the attention, and eventually Hat Guy had enough and went after him. After that, things became a bit of a blur of shouts and the probation worker pulling them apart. You made eye-contact briefly with the girl who’d been on her cell phone and you both rolled your eyes, laughing. 

If only you’d known then that this moment was the last normal one you’d have. 

~

“So what about you?” the curly-haired kid, Nate or whatever it was, asked, turning his paintbrush on you. “What’d you do gorgeous?”

You liked the sound of his lilt. But he needed to learn to shut up if you were ever going to get along with him, and you wanted to, if only because you were all stuck here. 

You shrugged. “I think the official labels were disturbing the peace and intimidation. And maybe something about rioting which seems unfair. It was just a little bar brawl, and it definitely wasn’t my fault. Although I did glass that guy. So maybe it was.” 

You tried to keep your voice nonchalant, painting away at the bench across from the quiet one, without looking up to see how the others reacted. If you were being honest, the crime you got stuck with wasn’t even the worst thing you had done, just the one that got attention. But these people, with their minor infractions and their ‘I shouldn’t be here’ attitudes (or maybe it was just the one guy) didn’t need to know that. 

“What about you Weird Kid,” Curly continued, apparently choosing not to comment on your offense as he had the others. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a panty sniffer.”

You grimaced, offering him a sympathetic roll of your eyes. “Ignore him, he’s a moron.” you mouthed across the bench. The boy offered you a faint smile in return. 

Curly continued his antics, trying to provoke your new friend who finally snapped, “I tried to burn someone’s house down.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed, as Curly whined uncomfortably, instantly backing off. You didn’t have time to comment on his own excuse for getting picked up, eating pick-n-mix, before the probation worker came back, annoyed with you all for Hat Guy’s paint spill. 

Then a massive hailstone crashed into a car, and you were too scared to worry about much else. Several more fell as you all stared up at the unnatural stormcloud moving overhead, and you all took off running for the relative shelter of the building, panicked and doing your best to shield your faces and heads from the shrapnel. Some instinct made you lag behind, bringing up the rear to make sure that everyone stayed together, no one got left behind. 

You were just coming up on the rest of the group, the probation worker unhelpfully taking the time to lecture them about their language, when there was a flash of light and you felt yourself get thrown backwards. 

You came back to your senses a moment later, sprawled on the concrete, entire body aching like the worst hangover you’d ever had, times ten. Smaller but still massive hail smashed on the ground around you as you and the others slowly sat up or climbed to your feet. 

The probation worker seemed to be having some sort of fit as you all discussed what had just happened and whether everyone was alright. 

“We just almost got killed by freak lightning and hail. Fuck what anybody says, I’m outta here,” you snapped, dusting yourself off with some attempt at dignity. 

“She’s right,” the probation worker groaned, making you turn to gape at him. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

~

The next day passed in a blur: finding Hat Guy dead, the probation worker going berserk and nearly killing you all, super powers? It was all too much. By the time you were all out digging holes under the overpass, you found the activity strangely calming. 

You tried not to think too hard about that fact, since apparently Kelly could hear you. You debated offering a (metaphorical) hand of friendship to Alisha, maybe suggest some self-defense classes to help counter her fucked up powers, but seeing the way she snapped at Curtis you decided against it, for now. Then you were startled out of your thoughts by Nathan draping an arm around your shoulders. 

“So it looks like just the two of us that haven’t figured out our powers yet,” he observed, leaning on you.

You side-stepped out of his grasp, causing him to stumble, nearly ending up in Tony’s grave with him, and hid your smirk behind your hand.

“What’s your point?” you asked, tired and irritated and not wanting to put up with his shit.

“Maybe we should spend some extra time together, figure it out.” He waggled his eyebrows, a behavior you were starting to notice was a habit of his. 

‘This arrogant sod,’ you thought. ‘He’s really got the nerve to be standing there, not doing any work, hitting on me, while we are burying bodies. Who the hell does he think he is?’ 

You were furious, the more you thought about it. 

Suddenly, a wave roiled up from the river, crashing over Nathan, knocking him to the ground in a sopping puddle.

“What the hell?” Alisha shrieked, jumping back from the splash zone.

“Y/N. I think you did that,” Kelly pointed out.

You stared, wide-eyed. “No way.” 

“Ya were gettin’ pissed at Nathan, I heard it. Then he gets dunked on.”

“No. That’s...that would be...not fair.”

“You think having some sort of water control power isn’t fair?” Alisha looked like she was going to start something and you backed away, trying not to cry or vomit from the fear. “It’s a million times better than my shit power.”

“No. You don’t understand…” you felt like your throat was closing up. “It would be...sick. A sick joke. The universe can’t have that kinda humor.” You looked wildly around at them, five pairs of eyes fixed on you, trying to breathe and not think.

“Let’s just finish burying the bodies,” you said shakily, “forget this ever happened, and get out of here, yeah?”

~

The next morning you dragged yourself up out of bed, forcing yourself to dress in some ratty jeans and a tank top, braiding your hair with trembling fingers as you got ready for day three of community service. Even if there wasn’t going to be a probation worker there, even if you just went and then left, you had to make everything look as normal as possible.

“So, if anyone asks,” you heard Nathan say softly as you, Alisha, and Kelly all passed the guys on their way out of the locker room and your way in to change. “It was just a completely normal day.”

“Actually…” you caught their attention, holding them back a moment. “The new probation worker’s in there right now, digging around the office. They’re going to ask us questions, and we need to have our stories straight.”

“What story?” he protested, a little too loudly, earning a glare from Kelly and Curtis. “We saw nothing, we did nothing.”

“They’re not going to buy it. We were the last people to see either of them, and now they’re missing with no sign of where they went.”

“So what do you suggest, if you’re the mastermind with all the answers?”

You glared at him, then licked your lips nervously. “Look, I’m not going to volunteer it outright, but if we have to, I’ll tell them it was me.”

“Wot?!” Kelly asked, staring at you like you had just sprouted a new head.

“It’ll suck but better one of us goes down than all of us. I’m the one it’s most believable from.”

“No! No way!” You were surprised that Alisha was fighting you on it, expecting her to be the first to throw you under a bus in order to get away from it herself.  “You’ll go to prison!”

“Or we all will. I’m just being practical. If we’re lucky, they think we don’t know shit and we all walk away. But if they start asking questions, real questions,” you set your jaw, steeling yourself for the story you were going to spin. “Tony and I got in a fight over the shit he said while we were takin’ shelter from the storm. I got pissed, and I hit him until he stopped moving. Made you help me move the body. Then Hat Guy, what’s his name, was gonna snitch so I killed him too.”

“I don’t like this,” Curtis cut in. Nathan nodded slowly in agreement, eyebrows furrowed and far more serious than you had seen him so far. 

“What happens to you if we do this?” Alisha asked.

“They slap me in cuffs,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, trying and failing to cut the tension. “Drag me down to the station, ask me a bunch more shit. Then I go away for a long time for murder, or they don’t believe me and I’m back on Monday.”

“Even if they don’t believe her,” Simon offered hesitantly. “They’ll be less likely to look at the rest of us. She has no reason to cover for us. We’re practically strangers.”

“Exactly.” You snapped your fingers, pointing at Simon. “See, he gets it.”

“Why would ya take the fall for us?” Kelly asked. 

You considered her question for a while, not really sure of the answer yourself. Then you sighed and shrugged, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

“I’m real good at screwin’ up, and lucky I’m not already jailed for it. Least now I can use that fact for a good cause.”

~

Nathan watched as the girl walked over to her locker in the back, casual as can be as if she hadn’t just offered to go down for a double murder. He tried not to show on his face how impressed, or turned on, he was. 

He considered staying, trying to catch a glimpse of her and see if her body was as dangerous and sexy as her mind seemed to be. 

“Yer disgusting,” Kelly scoffed, glaring at him until he left behind the other guys.

~

The six of you stood in a line, uncomfortable and awkward as you faced your new probation worker. She introduced herself as Sally, and said she’d been sent to take over your supervision.

“Gary and my colleague, Tony, have both been reported missing,” she continued, staring at each of you in turn, as if a little eye contact could drive her point home. “Their families are really worried about them.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing for a second that either of those two assholes had anyone out there looking for them. You tried, slightly, to hide your boredom. 

“Did any of you see anything unusual? Anything at all?”

Everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably out of the corners of eyes, shifting weight from foot to foot. 

‘They’ve got nothing,’ you found yourself thinking with relief. ‘Everyone keeps their mouth shut and it might actually work.’

Suddenly Nathan raised a finger in the air, looking nervous and uncomfortable, one might even call it scared, and you swore under your breath. Were you really so wrong to trust them, him? Was he about to snitch? Of course an idiot like him couldn’t stick to a cover story. Your mind raced, debating if you should start running and try for a lead on the cops. 

“A few days ago, I go into the toilets, Tony and Gary are in there - they’re butt naked. Tony’s got Gary by his hair - like this. He’s doing him - doggie-style,” you gaped as Nathan carried on. 

“Or...we could go with that,” you muttered watching Nathan’s antics and rubbing your forehead to stave off the growing headache (a headache you suspected was going to be semi-permanent and named Nathan Young). 

“I ask you - in a world of prejudice and intolerance - who are we, who are we to condemn them?”

Sally scoffed, rolling her eyes and storming off to the office. 

“Who wants a smoke?” Kelly asked, nodding her head toward the stairs, and you all followed, headed for the roof. 

~

“What the fuck was that down there?” you shouted at Nathan, gesturing angrily.

“It was me, improvisin, actin. I think I did a pretty good job, don’t ye?” he grinned smugly at you.

“I think you’re an idiot, and almost ruined the whole thing. Now even if I do try to take the fall, at the very least, your goose is cooked too.”

“So don’t try. I think we got away with it.”

“D’you actually believe that?” Curtis asked, staring dumbfounded at Nathan. “Or are you just really dumb?”

[radiorenjun]

 I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn't stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mentions of heartbreak, slight cussing or swearing, body pains, unrequited love, Jaemin finally getting karma for what he’s done, a bit of crying, brief mentions of death and flashbacks.

• Word count : 7.4k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: viii, ix

They say karma hits back at the best of times. In this case, it was no different with Na Jaemin. 

As time went on Jaemin finds himself longing and missing your presence by every passing moment. It’s been a full month since you started avoiding him like the plague, never daring to meet his eyes or even turning your head to acknowledge his presence in the classroom. It was as if you hadn’t spent most of your life hanging out with each other. As if you two were complete strangers.

At first, Jaemin tried ignoring the empty feeling inside of him whenever you pass by without giving him a slight glance. Trying to focus on whatever he was doing and not turn his head whenever he heard somebody calling out your name or whenever he hears your voice nearby. But it appears to be getting harder and harder as time goes by.

He finds himself thinking back to all the things you both used to do together wherever he goes. 

More or less, he doesn’t notice how his smile would quickly turn into a frown when he sees you hang around and act too friendly with Renjun. But then again, who was he to tell you what to do? He should be thrilled that you’ve finally decided to let go of him and get off his back. Yet again, he doesn’t seem too happy.

It seemed as if the world has turned upside down. Jaemin hadn’t noticed how many habits he developed in your absence from his life. He usually finds himself staring longingly at the shit polaroid the two of your took back when you were fourteen on your senior middle school field trip. A small smile stretching across his face when his mind wandered back to the exact moment when and where you took it. 

“Jaemin!” you hissed loudly as you took your bag to pull out your polaroid camera that your grandma had bought you earlier on your birthday. You were both currently on break after a long hike and hours of camp activities. Jaemin turned his head, seeing you pull out your camera and blowing some dust off of it. Jaemin smiled as he shoved his hand in his own bag which had a hidden package of fluffy white marshmallows.

You were saving them for the bonfire later that night but what’s the harm in eating a few right? Jaemin shoved a marshmallow in his mouth as he got up to sit next to you on the dirty floor, the satisfying crunching sound of dried leaves being crumpled under his beige colored boots. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring devices into camp,” Jaemin slumped down on the spot beside you, watching you fidget with your camera.

“I got permission from Mr.Jung. He said I could take some pics for the sake of saving memories, as long as I don’t blame him if I lose it,” you chuckled, turning to your best friend before your eyes lit up at the marshmallows in his palm. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from your camera to your pleading expression, puppy eyes boring into his, opening your mouth in a large ‘o’ shape.

Jaemin bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing, his hand picking up one of the marshmallows in the other before aiming it towards your mouth. When you leaned forward to gobble up the treat in between his finger, he pulled away teasingly, causing you to let out a short frown. He giggled at your reaction, pulling the marshmallow close to you before pulling away once again once you leaned forward.

“Jaemin, stop and let me have a marshmallow, you greedy goblin!” you whined, bumping your shoulder rather harshly against his teasingly. Jaemin broke into a fit of giggles, nodding with a giggly, “okay, okay. Chill out.” 

He popped the fluffy treat into your mouth where you started humming in content, “thank you,” you replied melodiously with a wide smile. Jaemin laughed, ruffling your already messy hair before pulling his hat off his head to plop it lopsidedly on your head. You furrowed your brows, scrunching your nose as you pouted almost menacingly at him causing him to smile innocently and pinch your nose in between his free hand that wasn’t carrying the marshmallows.

“Finally!” you exclaimed, turning on your camera before Jaemin took it out of your grasp. “How much do you have left?” Jaemin asked, referring to the contents inside of your camera. You suddenly turned to him, camera closer to your face, quickly snapping a quick picture of his taken aback state. The flash coming from your camera nearly blinding him, causing black spots to line his vision for a couple of seconds. “Three, now.” you pulled the polaroid out of the dispenser, blowing on it smugly before shaking the piece of film in between your fingers.

“Great, then you don’t mind if we finish the last four polaroids on us?” Jaemin raised his brow in a rather flirtatious way. “Whatever, my grandma’s gonna gush about us either way, saying how pissed off she’ll be if we don’t end up as soulmates.” You shrugged as Jaemin lifted the camera to angle it so the two of you would be in the frame. Your grandmother was one of those people who were convinced that you two were going to be soulmates in the future. “That’s a risk I’ll be willing to take,” he nods with a laugh.

“Enough blabbering and put on a really ugly face so I can save it in my scrapbook, Na.” you joked, winking awkwardly at the camera as you brought your hand closer to your eye for a peace sign, hovering your index finger above the camera button. “Oh y/n, always so desperate to have more cringey pictures of me, aren’t you? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a crush on me,” he smirked, causing you to lower your camera to purse your lips and roll your eyes at him.

“Just shut up and take a picture before I tell Mr. Seo that you’ve been eating all the marshmallows during the hike,” you threatened weakly, raising the camera once again to get a better angle. Jaemin to let out a soft chuckle before sucking in the corners of his lips into his mouth to make a duck face before his finger slowly slides onto the camera button, clicking it rather quickly.

For the next three shots, you two continued to goof off with either you or Jaemin ruining the last three photos. Only finally having a decent one when you threatened to burn his x-box if you didn’t get this last picture right. One polaroid had a picture of you pushing Jaemin’s face away from the camera, resulting in you showing your pearly white teeth.

“Shining shimmering splendid” as Jaemin liked to say. 

The other was a slightly less blurry than the precious one, with Jaemin trapping you squealing and squirming in his arms, scrunching your face in disgust. You soon revealed that you had kept this in your scrapbook that you were so devoted to at the time.  

The last picture was the clearest picture out of the four. A picture of you laughing brightly, hands pushing against Jaemin’s face, his lips puckered up to give you a teasing, friendly kiss. “I’m definitely keeping this,” Jaemin giggled, holding the polaroid in between his fingers with amusement written all over his face. You peeked at the photo in question, letting out a huff as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, it was a mistake to watch the Titanic with you,” you shoved Jaemin teasingly with a snicker, stuffing the other polaroids in the front pocket of your backpack. Jaemin pouted letting out a small “humph” as he crossed his arms rather childishly, “please?” he said, coming closer to you to poke your cheek.

You snickered at your best friend who was now pinching your cheek and chanting “please” in a playfully aggressive tone. “Pay me,” you stuck your tongue out jokingly, jaw dropping a second afterwards when you saw Jaemin pulling out his wallet from his pocket. “How much?” he asked, shuffling through his almost empty wallet. (He spent all the pocket money his parents gave him for a can of coke the seniors were selling during the hike, despite your protests)

You let out a laugh. “You idiot, I wasn’t serious, put your wallet back in before it cries at how empty it is, Jaemin.” you retorted, smacking his arm lightly as Jaemin smiled like a dork at your expression. “Oh, I see how this is. You just want to see how broke and empty my wallet is, didn’t you? You ” he accused, wiggling a finger in your face. 

“Yes, I definitely wanted to see how broke you are after I told you multiple times that the juice our moms packed us is way more worth it than some soda our senior offered. Definitely not because I was joking or anything,” you laughed sarcastically, rolling your eyes at the boy who let out an embarrassed giggle. “Shut up!” he laughed, flicking your forehead.

“It was just coca cola, you nitwit. You have no right to complain considering you practically begged me to buy you one as well,” he retorted, pinching your cheek rather hard. “I only asked! It’s your own fault that you decided to buy me one, for all you knew I could’ve shared yours! But  no, you’re a greedy little shit that wants to drink a whole can of cola by himself!” you shot back, laughing along as you pushed his hand away from your face.

“Clearly, coca cola means much more to you than our friendship. I can’t handle this betrayal!” you raised your arm to cover your eyes with the back of your hand dramatically, wailing like a banshee as Jaemin’s jaw dropped, feeling slightly offended at how you unceremoniously exclaimed his betrayal for the whole class to hear. 

“L/N!”

Jaemin smiled to himself at the vivid memory, remembering how you both laughed so hard the majority of your whole trip, so hard that your stomachs’ were aching. Remembering how you squealed his name in alarm when you were squirming in his hold, trying to get out of his arms when Jaemin tried to place a kiss on your forehead in front of everyone to mess with you. Your classmates were surprisingly unfazed by the immense amount of platonic affection displayed in front of them, but you couldn’t blame them. This is Na Jaemin we’re talking about. The boy who flirted with his nurse while getting an injection in his ass.

Though, Jaemin never realized how mature you both have gotten since then. How since your 16th birthday, you stopped having midnight texts that made you both grip your own stomachs out of laughter. How you both stopped joking around as much. How this whole soulmate ordeal tore your friendship apart.

Jaemin would like to convince himself that this was all your fault. You were the one that caused your relationship to fall, with your over the top devotion to making him love you more than a friend would. He would like to think that if it weren’t for you being so clingy and dramatic when professing your love, he wouldn’t have lost his childhood best friend.

He sighed softly as he closed his locker, gripping his biology book against his side with one hand and gripping the saddle of his bag in the other. Jaemin despised this empty feeling in his chest.The feeling that as if something had gone missing in his life. The same feeling of how he lost his newest transformers action figure back when he was nine years old.

As he turned around the corner, pausing in his step as his eyes widened slightly to see you leaning against the locker with your friends. A bright expression on your face as you listened to your friend ranting bout whatever Jisung did to fool the newest math substitute teacher into giving them a free period. 

Jaemin felt his mouth running dry, words stuck in his throat, a sudden uneasy feeling piling up into his chest. He scoffed lightly to himself, mentally scolding himself for his sudden nervousness. ‘Why am I getting nervous over this? It’s just y/n after all.’ he thought with furrowed brows before shaking the thought out of his head, huffing to himself before continuing on forward. 

It felt as if the world had slowed down for a dramatic effect. As Jaemin passed by you and your friend, he couldn’t help but look at you in the corner of his eye, catching a small glimpse of your laughing figure. And to his surprise, your eyes darted to his own, catching his piercing gaze. Both of your eyes met for a brief moment, the sound of students chattering around you growing deaf for a split second.

That is, until Jaemin got snapped back into reality when he watched the happiness from your eyes evaporate. A sad, hurt expression replacing it as your pupils moved away from his own, he watched your head turn to look at your nails, pretending to listen to whatever your friend was saying as you tried to mask your hurt with a slight smile.

Jaemin’s heart ached, a frown taking place on his own lips as he tears his gaze away from your figure to look down on the tiled floor. Jaemin let out a loud exhale as he makes his way to class, There was something hurtful about the  way your eyes instantly dart away to avoid his gaze, his heart aching at the thought that you couldn’t even look at him. Were you that upset bout the dinner party? He couldn’t recall the last time you were this upset.

As Jaemin sat on his usual spot in his Biology class, he began to get lost in his thoughts. The closest thing he remembered to you being this upset over something was when-

He was snapped out of his thoughts in a flash when he heard a loud container being dropped in front of him. Jaemin jumped in his seat at the startling noise, turning his head to the source of the action. Unsurprisingly, it was non other than his oh-so-precious seatmate, Lee Donghyuck himself. “What’s gotten you so pissed off? You looked as if you poured orange into your cereal instead of milk,” Donghyuck snickered.

“That’s a possible option considering I’m lactose intolerant, Hyuck.” Jaemin shot back with a rather sardonic tone. Hyuck chuckled, slumping in his seat beside Jaemin before continuing to speak. “Reminds me of when I bought you milk bingsu,” he snickers causing Jaemin to let out a soft chuckle, pushing the side of the older boy’s head away in retaliation. “You bitch, you knew I was allergic. Why couldn’t you just get me a fruit bingsu instead? Instead, you made y/n buy it.” Jaemin stopped himself from speaking any further, his mind drifting away to recall the wonderful memory.

“Jaemin, my good pal. You absolutely need to try this place’s milk bingsu.” Hyuck exclaimed as he sat down on the empty seat with his other friends with two big bowls of milk bingsu in his hands. Jaemin glanced up from his phone, a deadpanned expression spreading across his face as he slumped back in his seat with an offended frown plastered on his face.

“Lee Haechan, you know very well I’m lactose intolerant. Why couldn’t you just get a fruit bingsu?” Jaemin groaned, eyes glaring at his older friend who merely shrugged innocently as the rest of their friends dig into the scrumptious dessert with soft snickers coming out of their mouths. “The audacity,” Yeoreum snickered, waving a spoonful of the dessert in front of Jaemin’s face.

Jaemin huffed, blowing out a puff of air as he crossed his arms against his chest. “This speaks so much bout our friendship right now. Clearly, you guys don’t care bout me.” he muttered under his breath like a little 5 year old boy throwing a tantrum in his car when his mother said that they have food at home when he wanted Mc Donald’s.

“You’re such a baby. If you want one so much, go buy some.” Jeno chuckled, shoving Jaemin by the shoulder playfully causing Jaemin to let out a soft laugh. “Shut up, you know very well that I’ve gone broke from buying the latest Final Fantasy game.” he laughed, patting the empty wallet hidden in his jacket pocket.

“No wonder I couldn’t understand you. You’re speaking in broke with us rich kids, go away peasant.” Hyuck joked, earning a hard punch on the shoulder from the younger boy. “It was worth it,” he spat back. “ I’m good with starving for the rest of the month if it means I get to spend my whole weekend procrastinating on assignments for that glorious game,” he smiled in defeat.

“You big baby, I’ll buy it.” you sighed, standing up from your seat which was across the table from Jaemin’s, pulling out your own wallet from your hoodie, causing Jaemin’s jaw to drop. “Your girlfriend buying your meal for you, how romantic. Such a gentleman, Mister. Na Jaemin.” Hyuck applauded, clapping his hand together with each word that spews out of the idiot’s mouth.

“Y/n, you really don’t have to-” Jaemin insisted, standing up from his chair to look at you. Trying to swallow down the typical feeling of annoyance piling up in his chest whenever he talks to you, Jaemin tried to ignore the coos and howls of your friends gushing about how cute you two are. You had found out two of you were soulmates almost 6 months ago, and ever since then, things changed between you two.

You smiled briefly. At that time, Jaemin couldn’t decipher if she was just oblivious to the fact that he was annoyed and uncomfortable at that situation or you were just putting up a facade to mask your hurt when you saw his annoyed expression. “Hush, it’s not unusual for me to buy you things, Jaemin.” you grinned cheekily, walking up to the cashier and ignoring Jaemin’s annoyed whines.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at you in annoyance before sitting down and slumping in his seat with a heavy sigh. “Hey, at least you get a fruit bingsu,” Hyuck snickered. “Just like you wanted, right?” he leaned forward to pinch Jaemin’s cheeks, receiving a hard smack in response from the younger boy, an annoyed expression plastered across his face. 

“Shut up, Hyuck.” he snarled, slumping in his seat in annoyance.

“Welp, no matter. I got you some cookies.” Hyuck sighed, pushing the container towards Jaemin, causing him to lift his brow questioningly. “Cookies?” he asked, surprised. “What’s the occasion? You never gave me anything before,” Jaemin opened it to reveal that the container was filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. “You seem pretty down these days so I figured you needed the old cheering up by your best pal, Haechan!” he exclaimed with enthusiastic jazz hands.

Jaemin chuckled lightly, grabbing one cookie. “Don’t worry, they’re those dark chocolate, no milk kinds of cookies. You won’t have to go to the bathroom with a stomach ache later on,” Donghyuck snickered, patting Jaemin’s back when Jaemin looks at him and the cookie suspiciously. “Where did you even get these? “ Jaemin asked, inspecting the cookie with furrowed brows, eyeing Donghyuck suspiciously as if Donghyuck had poisoned said cookie. 

“Relax, Jaemin. I didn’t make them, so no pranks, I can promise you that.” Hyuck waved the back of his hand at Jaemin, telling him that he’s telling the truth. Jaemin shrugged, opening his mouth to eat the cookie before Hyuck spoke up again. “I got it from y/n,” Hyuck added on, making Jaemin pause, pulling the cookie away from his mouth.

“I think I’m good,” Jaemin muttered lowly, putting the cookie back into the container. ”Oh come on, Jaemin! I bet you missed tasting her cookies. Sure, you two aren’t haven’t been on speaking terms lately. But what’s stopping you from eating her Thursday Cookies? They’re literally to die for! Plus, you’re acting as if she poisoned them or something, it’s nothing like you never had before.” Hyuck groaned, grabbing two pieces of cookies and shoving one into Jaemin’s grip and tossing the other into his mouth.

Hyuck watched Jaemin from the corner of his eye, feeling sort of uneasy at the sad puppy-like expression plastered on his best friend’s face as he stared down at the cookie as if he was lost. “What’s wrong?” Hyuck asked with a raised brow, pushing back his bangs which almost covered his eyes. He might need a trim before Mark complains bout how his hair is gonna poke him in the eyes all the time.

Jaemin looks up at his friend with a startled expression as if Hyuck had snapped him out of his thoughts, Jaemin opened his mouth before closing it again, trying to think of something to say. “I’ve never had her cookies before,” Jaemin confessed, leaning his head against his palm, his elbow on the table. Hyuck’s eyes widened at the surprising statement, leaning forward to tell whether Jaemin is lying or not.

He wasn’t.

“WHAT?!” Hyuck exclaimed, attracting their classmates’ attention. Jaemin bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the eyes of his classmates. “You couldn’t say that any louder, huh, Hyuck?” he shot back with a scowl. Though, Donghyuck didn’t care about the concerned eyes of his classmates boring into his skull for interrupting their conversation with his dramatic antics. “Don’t change the subject, Na.” Hyuck pointed a finger at his friend, a deep frown adorning his lips.

“What? I’m not,” Jaemin sighed heavily, looking back at his friend with a bored expression. “Stop lying!” Hyuck exclaimed, pressing his index finger against Jaemin’s nose. Jaemin raised his brow, “I’m really not, Hyuck. Why are you making such a big deal of this?” he asked with furrowed brows, concerned of his friend’s sanity. He really couldn’t remember why he was friends with Donghyuck at that given moment.

Donghyuck was acting as if he had just found out Jaemin is secretly those aliens that rule over the government, waiting for the right moment to start a world wide apocalypse. (according to Renjun’s theory during their shared art class, that is) 

“Dude. I’m not an idiot, you practically received a life’s worth of her delicious cookies every week! How have you not tried at least one of these? These are literally heaven baked cookies! A salvation of life! The only thing that’s worth living in life! The-” 

“Remind me how you’re not single again?”

Hyuck frowned, a pout appearing on his lips afterwards as Jaemin grinned proudly in response. “Whatever, what I mean is. I would literally send you death glares from across the hall because you were one lucky bastard to be receiving a large ass jar of cookies every week while I’m stuck here begging y/n for cookies only to receive, ‘oh, I gave them all to Jaemin.’ every week of my life.” he huffed, crossing his arms with a deep frown on his lips.

Jaemin’s eyes widened slightly at the statement, eyes falling back on the chocolate chip cookie in between his fingers. Did you really spend your time baking him cookies every week? He felt his heart flutter at the thought, a warm feeling in his stomach suddenly appeared as he eyed the cookie.

“Hey Jaemin?” 

Jaemin looks up from his locker, humming to see none other than your presence. “Y/n?” he raised his brow, stuffing his Chemistry textbook into his locker and grabbing his Math textbook as he speaks. “What’s up?” he asked in a bored tone, adverting his gaze back to the contents of his locker, pulling out the books he needs for his next class.

“So, I baked you some cookies. I used your mom’s recipe for your favorite peanut butter and dark chocolate chip cookies that we used to eat as kids together.” you exclaimed, handing him a clear air-tight glass jar filled to the brim with delicious cookies. Jaemin looked at the jar filled with cookies before sighing up at you, tired eyes boring into yours. “Y/n, as much as I love accepting gifts from you and as much as I love the fact that you care about me, but you really need to stop doing this.” Jaemin sighed, stretching out his hand to give you back your cookies.

“What?” you frowned slightly. “It’s just too much, I appreciate you giving me so much of these cookies. But it’s kind of a waste to give me so many don’t you think? I mean, I know loads of people who would want your cookies way more than I do. You’ve given me so much cookies, I’m not even eating them!” Jaemin exclaimed almost exasperatedly, sighing heavily afterwards. His eyes glancing at the jar filled with delicious treats to your soft pleading eyes boring into his.

“Come on, it’s just a jar of cookies. It would mean a lot if you accept them, I worked hard to bake them,” you pouted, giving him that look you often use to make him give in. Jaemin would often compare your expression to that iphone emoji with puppy pleading eyes whenever he gives in to your wants and needs. Jaemin almost let out a scowl at your remark, almost retorting back with a ‘it’s your own fault. I didn’t ask for cookies in the first place.’

He tried his best not to roll his eyes, sighing in defeat as he gave in to your pleas. “Fine, only because I can’t say no to that look,” he huffed, masking his annoyance with a pout of his own, shoving the jar of cookies into the front pocket of his bag. He watched as your puppy-like pout morph into a happy, pleased expression, reminding him of the cute emoticons he always used in his phone. He didn’t know why but It always brings a small smile to his lips to see your happy expression.

“Yay!” you cheered rather enthusiastically. “Why do you like giving me cookies so much anyways? It’s a becoming a weekly routine now for me to get cookies from you.” Jaemin chuckled as you both began to walk side by side to your next class. He watched as you shrugged simply, eyes forward, waving at a few students who passed by. “I just like giving gifts to my soulmate,” you giggled at him, skipping away from him before he could scold you for saying it out loud.

He shrugged, taking a bite out of the cookie before widening his eyes at the sweet taste. He let out a surprised hum, eyeing the cookie as if he was Aladdin and the cookie was the golden lamp with a genie inside. “Good, right?” Hyuck chuckled, amused by his friend’s expression. “ I still can’t believe you never tried these before. She says she got the recipes from Buzzfeed but I don’t buy it, I’ve tried making some with Mark but they don’t taste nearly as good as hers.” Hyuck blabbered on.

“On a rare occasions she would hand them over. But those are only when your ungrateful ass kept refusing her cookies. Like, it often made me think, ‘why couldn’t Mark bake as well as-” Hyuck’s words eventually gone deaf to the younger boy’s ears, head filled with his own loud thoughts as the sweet flavor of the cookie entranced his taste buds.  

He remembers constantly rejecting your gifts every time you came up to him with hands hidden behind your back, trying every possible excuse in the book so that you would possibly give them to someone else. Or even suggesting that you should give them to Hyuck whenever Jaemin spotted him talking to Jeno across the hall in the corner of his eye. Avoiding your slightly saddened expression. On rare occasions, you would give in with a sad smile and give them to either Jeno, Haechan or some other lucky soul that gets to have free cookies.

“Like, I’ve had her give me some of her super special recipes but they just hit differently from hers you kno-”

“It taste like her hugs.” 

“What?” 

Jaemin’s eyes widened when he realized he said that last bit out loud, his head turning to his friend who mirrored his wide eyed expression. There was a pregnant pause between the two boys, taking in the words that accidentally slipped out of Jaemin’s mouth. Jaemin opened his mouth to speak, trying to come up with something to say to cover up the previous statement he had made.

Hyuck furrowed his brows at his friend. 

“You can taste hugs?” 

“Mr. Lee is coming!” someone exclaimed, causing Hyuck and Jaemin to sit up in their chairs. Jaemin shoved the rest of the half eaten cookie into his mouth as Hyuck quickly closed the container and snuck it quickly into his bag, trying to act as casual as possible as their teacher walked into class with his usual stoic expression.

“Good morning, class. We have no time to waste, exams are in a month. Please open your textbooks to page 67.” their teacher announced in his typical booming voice, turning around to start explaining on the whiteboard in front of them. Jaemin glanced at Hyuck for a split second, diverting his gaze away when he caught his eye. Hyuck shrugged simply, burying his head into his arms into a sleeping position.

Jaemin wasn’t surprised to see Hyuck closing his eyes in content, thus, not paying attention to the lecture. It wasn’t such an unusual thing for Lee Donghyuck to doze off during class, thus ignoring the whole lecturing and depending on other students for notes or seniors for cheat sheets. Jaemin hoped Hyuck would let go of what he said earlier or even better, pretend it never happened.

As Jaemin advert his eyes back to the whiteboard and started to listen to Mr. Lee’s explanations, he didn’t realize Hyuck, whose face was hidden and buried in his arms, was staring into darkness with sad half-lidded eyes. He knew full well who Jaemin was talking about, he knew what was happening with Jaemin. The fate of those who rejected their soulmate’s love. He knew this would happen eventually but he didn’t expect this to happen so soon.

Deep down, he felt sympathy for what’s to come to his dear friend. He knew from here on out, it’s going to be a roller coaster of emotions for his dear friends and he was afraid of finding out the end to their story. 

Jaemin often spent his Thursdays hanging out at the arcade with his friends right after practice. As the good friend Jaemin was, he would often go broke from treating his team for some food and beverages. (As long as they didn’t get on his bad side or anything) Especially for those who were feeling down that whole week. Jaemin was more than willing to sacrifice his wallet’s contents for the sake of his friends smiling again.

But this time, to Jaemin’s surprise, Jeno was the one who offered to sacrifice his wallet for the team this week. Due to the exhaustion and stress of his constant chest pains, wrist pains, long endless assignments and his upcoming midterm exams, all he wanted to do that weekend was get at least 18 hours of sleep and binge watch the latest series that just came out recently.

But since, Jeno, the one and only Jeno who was the one who usually encourages the rest of the team to make Jaemin’s wallet an empty little bitch, was willing to empty out his pockets this time. He couldn’t say no. Hell if Jeno was the one paying, that meant someone in the team was feeling down or needed a real cheering up. 

Plus, it was finally his turn to scream, “BUY EVERYTHING YOU CAN. JENO’S PAYING, WHOEVER’S GOT THE MOST EXPENSIVE SHIT WILL GET A FREE JAR OF COOKIES!”

You can tell Jaemin had been waiting decades to say that. 

But sadly, he was too tired from all the pain he was dealing with every hour of his day that he was basically dragging himself across the floor when they arrived at the mall, making their way to the arcade with Jeno and Haechan’s arms slung over Jaemin’s shoulder, making a little skip with every step they take. “How do you guys have the energy for this?” Jaemin croaked, putting on a sloppy smile to mask his exhaustion.

“Said by the guy who drinks expresso every morning with what? Four extra shots? With no water nor sugar? Six times a day?” Hyuck replied in a sassy tone, nodding his head cockily at the younger boy. “Besides, it’s a once in a life time opportunity to make our Lee Jeno broke and penniless. The thought of Jeno’s wallet crying out of hunger will always be my mood booster.” he added on with a proud smirk, causing Jeno to roll is eyes.

“Plus, you, my friend, looks exhausted as hell. You need some refreshing fun time with your best buds, Jeno and Haechan!” Jeno exclaimed with a proud smile, whipping out his VIP card in between his fingers like some kind of weird card trick. (which he rarely whips out when going to the arcade because why bother bringing a wallet when Jaemin or Chenle exists in their friend group?)

“What?” Jaemin deadpanned, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We exist, too, hyung!” Chenle exclaimed behind them in an offended tone, waving his hand in the air to alert his seniors that his existence was right behind them. “Honestly, we’re here because Haechan-hyung said Jeno-hyung finally brought his wallet,” Jisung snickered, finally lifting his eyes up from the nintendo switch his mom bought him a couple months ago.

“Not wrong, really.” Chenle shrugged, pulling Jaemin forward so that they could walk side by side with their seniors. “You know, you’re the rich one here. Why don’t you treat your seniors once in a while,” Jaemin teased, sending the Chinese boy a cheeky grin. “That’s because you’re mean. I don’t treat mean people,” he replied back with a cackle.

“I brought you kimchi last week, you ungrateful brat.” Jaemin hissed back as the five of them entered the crowded arcade, music booming loudly in their ears, bright lights from the arcade games nearly blinding their eyes. “What game should we play first?” Hyuck clapped his hands, rubbing them against each other with a sinister expression as Jeno came up to the counter to check his VIP card, nervously opening his wallet.

“Oh, what bout those-” as Jisung continues to speak, pointing at a random direction. The wide grin on Jaemin’s face soon dissipated when he heard a familiar laugh through the symphony of random gaming music. His head turned to see the source to confirm his suspicions, eyes widening when he saw you laughing with a bunch of your other friends.

What made his smile evaporate in a second was the sight of Renjun right beside you, leaning his arm against the game you were playing, laughing along with you as the rest of your friends continued to cheer for you to win. Jaemin felt the oh-so-familiar electrifying sting under the skin beneath his wristwatch, wincing slightly at the burning pain. He tried to mask his pain and turn his head away, his heart feeling heavy at the sight happening a few meters away from him.

Jaemin snuck his aching wrist into the baggy pockets of his jacket. Eyes back to his friends who were laughing at Jeno’s puppy-like expression to his now half empty wallet. He bit back a pained hiss, his heart beat muffling the loud noise around him as he watched Renjun lean closer to you to look closer at the game screen, his blood boiling at the mere sight.

He turned his gaze away following his friends to the long aisle of racing games, watching as Hyuck grabbed the play card from Jeno’s fingers and hopped into one of the games. “Jaemin get over here so I can beat your ass!” Hyuck exclaimed eagerly as Jaemin let out a soft sigh and sat on the empty seat inb between Hyuck and Jisung.

“The one with the lowest score has to chug down Jaemin’s disgusting Starbucks order,” Chenle snickered, sliding the card against the slot before handing it to Jaemin. “Then I’ll gladly lose on purpose, my drink tastes like rainbows and unicorns, thank you very much” Jaemin laughs, carefully taking out his aching wrist to grip the fake steering wheel, ignoring the excruciating pain in his skin as he passes the card to Donghyuck.

“Shut up, Jaemin.” Hyuck teased as they begun to play. 

Jaemin’s mind fluttered through the nostalgic memories of his childhood with you, remembering the first time your parents ever brought you to the arcade. When they had to use a certain amount of those silver or gold coins to play games. As Jaemin walked side by side with his friends, sipping his Starbucks order in his right hand (he lost the game on purpose because despite the empty pain in his chest, he could always distract his mind away from the pain with his precious expresso that Jeno payed) and his left back in his pockets.

Jaemin’s eyes paused at the familiar aisle of crane games, remembering those lovely times when you were both still in middle school, you would always play crane games to see who would get the most prizes. Coming home with a bag filled with plushies or small toys and wide grins on your faces as both of your parents just stared at the two of you in disappointment for spending their money on crane games.

‘It’s an investment’ you would always say whenever you ran towards the crane games with Jaemin trailing right behind you, whining bout how you rarely play the other fun games just to waste your money in a bunch of small hand sized plushies. ‘Investment into what exactly? You have a bunch of plushies in your shelf that aren’t doing anything but collecting dust,’ he would chuckle as he watched you slip a coin or two into the machine with your tongue stuck out in concentration. ‘Into my happiness,’ you would reply with a smug expression before focusing on the crane inside the glass box.

He smiled to himself at the memory, his eyes catching a few kids gathering up at the crane games, screaming and hollering every few seconds when their friend accidentally moved the crane too far from the doll. His chest aching once again when a brief memory of when you two were in your first year of middle school, screaming whenever the timer runs out right when you were bout to drop the claw with his hands filled with a towers worth of plushies and you laughing in victory like a maniac as you both watched the pocket money in your wallet slowly disintegrate into nothingness.

“You’re into crane games, Jaemin?” Jeno asked, causing Jaemin to snap out of his thoughts. “Huh?” Jaemin turned to look at his friends, his mind still in a blurry haze. “You’ve been staring at those kids as if they had stolen your last candy bar,” Jeno commented with a slight laugh, nodding his head towards the group of kids, screaming in victory when the claw machine dropped the large stuffed animal into the gigantic slot.

“It just reminded me of something,” Jaemin put on a slight smile, shaking his head with a light laugh, continuing on drinking his expresso and moving on forward to the music games. Hyuck gave Jeno a worried look, who sent him back a concerned look of his own as the two of them caught up with Jaemin. (Chenle and Jisung went to the snack bar near the arcade to get some snacks to sneak in the movies later)

“You okay, buddy? You’ve been spacing out a lot recently,”  Hyuck asked in a concerned tone, slinging an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. Jaemin turned to Hyuck with eyes void of emotion, a frown displayed on his face as he casually sipped his drink. “Yeah? I guess,” he shrugged simply, avoiding Hyuck’s concerned eyes.

“You sure? You don’t look too well,” Jeno asked, brows furrowed even more as Jaemin let out a small nod. He could feel his heart getting heavy with each second, his wrist aching even more as he tried to avoid his friends’ worried expressions, trying to act nonchalant as if he wasn’t clenching his fist tightly in his pocket to try to suppress the excruciating pain he was enduring. 

“Guys, really, I’m fine.” Jaemin forced a smile on to his face, turning his head away from Hyuck and Jeno. At that exact moment, Jaemin regretted turning his head away. His eyes widened to see you with your friends, your arm was wrapped around a gigantic penguin plushie, talking to Renjun with a wide smile, a laugh eliciting from you when Renjun said something that Jaemin couldn’t make out.

“Did you really have to spend most of your money on a bunch of plushies?” Renjun chuckled, nodding to Yebin who was carrying three shopping bags worth of random plushies. You giggled, nodding as you reached up to pinch Renjun’s cheek eagerly. “It’s an investment into my happiness, leave me alone Injun.” you giggled, clutching the penguin tighter against you when you felt it slipping in between your arms. 

Renjun slapped your hand away from his cheek, huffing out exasperatedly before grabbing your plushie from your arms and into his. “Let me carry that,” he sighs, adjusting his grip slightly before sending you a soft smile. “Renjun you really don’t have to,” you frowned, tugging the flippers of the penguin as if he was going to give you back your plushie.

“I’ve already made Youngheum and Yebin my slaves, I don’t need you stooping into their levels,” you joke, dodging the dog plushie Yebin had threw at you right after Youngheum let out a dramatic, “BETRAYAL!” as they dropped shopping bags filled with your prizes unceremoniously.

“Shut up and let me carry this for you, you ungrateful little shit.” Renjun chuckled, using a hand to carry the life-sized penguin plushie to flick your forehead. “The audacity, I’ll be sure to bake you guys a fuck ton of cookies this week,” you snickered as Hyunjin let out a laugh. “I want cookies too!” he exclaimed, shaking your shoulders vigorously as he whined.

Jaemin let out a loud groan of pain as he felt an intense stinging sensation, his heart was beating erratically in his ears. “Jaemin, you okay?” Hyuck asked, pulling his arm away from Jaemin’s shoulders as Jaemin bit his lip to suppress a hiss. Jeno and Hyuck turned to see what Jaemin was glaring at, eyes widening at you standing so closely to Renjun.

“Jaem-” 

Their eyes widened when they silently watched Jaemin pulling his wrist out of his pocket, tugging his wrist watch down to see the oh-so-familiar tattoo glowing  a bright blood crimson red. The words were stuck in their throat, they didn’t know what to say. Or if they could even say anything as they silently watched their friend bit his lip and clench his eyes shut at the pain of his wrist and chest.

“Shit, what’s going on?” Jisung’s deep voiced cut through the tense atmosphere, causing Jeno and Hyuck to turn to see Jisung and Chenle with their jaws dropped, arms filled with snacks as they stared at their Team Captain with horrified eyes. Jaemin’s eyes were glossy from the intense pain, his chest was aching like hell, his heartbeat muffling the music around him as he hissed out in pain, eyes still on your figure laughing with Renjun.

“Get Jaemin, out of here. I knew this was going to happen but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” Jeno ordered, trying to pull Jaemin out of the arcade but the boy could barely move. The pain getting more intense and intense by the second as Jaemin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two figures standing not even a couple meters away from them.

“Jaemin come on, it’s gonna get even worse if you stay here.” 

T A G G I N G : @lixseu @morks-watermelon @cherrystay @candiednickles @12am-musings @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @d-nghyck @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @aconeptun​ @comically-sleep-deprived​ @wtfhaechan​ @chaeshii 

TAG LIST IS : O P E N E D ! do inform me if you changed your url. I couldn’t tag three people i’m so sorry idk what’s going on

[redrobin-detective]

hope is the promise of future happiness

its 11am, I’ve not dressed or done anything and I got hit with The Feels

XxX

Izuku had walked by the shop, stopping and staring and wondering, for almost two weeks. He stopped again, as he had most every day walking home from school, to stare at the new sign that had recently been hung up in the window. 

‘Takazawa Fortune Tellers: now offering precognitive services! Temporarily transport your mind into that of your future self! By Appointment Only, inquire inside.’ He mulled around the words in his head as he let the crowds carry him away again. Izuku kept his head low so the conflicting emotions weren’t obvious on his face. There was a decent amount of precognitive quirks but most were vague and not helpful in the long run. Any quirks that were useful were immediately snapped up by heroes and other government agencies. The chances that a small town psychic could tell him anything useful was low but...

Izuku rubbed lightly at his red and peeling palms where Kacchan had blasted him 2 days ago. Most days all he felt like was a pile of burns, bruises and depression. He was 13 years old and he was miserable every day of his life with no end in sight. If only he could find something, anything, to tell him that tomorrow would be better than today.

He nervously pulled at his lip as he muttered quietly to himself. But what if the future was worse than the present? What if he was still alone, still unhappy, still a stupid, quirkless Deku? What would he do if there was no future for him, some future him deciding enough was enough and-

Izuku shook his head, to clear it of such dark thoughts. He walked past a store filled with TVs, all bearing All Might’s grinning face as he gave a brief interview following a villain attack early this morning. The sound was off but Izuku knew the steady rumble of his hero’s voice better than his own. Watching that smile, that easy care and confidence All Might radiated eased some of the tension off Izuku’s shoulders. As long as All Might was there to spread peace and joy, the future couldn’t be all bad. No matter what, he would be Izuku’s future, a guiding light to lead him to where he needed to be.

It took him another week to work up the courage to enter the shop. The little bell when he opened the door might as well have been a blazing alarm, it almost caused him to run right then and there.

“Welcome to Takazawa Fortune Tellers, you’re here for the precognitive services, correct?” The secretary at the front said with a small smile. 

“Oh well I uh how did you-”

“Mild telepathy, lets me know people’s intentions,” the woman explained, tapping her temple. “That and I’ve seen you stopping and staring at the sign for almost a month.” Izuku ducked into the collar of his uniform and considered running again. He could find a new way home from school, possibly change schools altogether, maybe a new country?

“Please don’t go,” the woman said with a light laugh, “in fact, you picked the perfect day to stop by. We’re booked up for months but our last appointment was a no show so we have an open slot right now. We’re not supposed to take walk-ins but, well, you’ve been waiting for this a long time, haven’t you?”

Izuku flushed but the woman stood up, “I guess destiny brought you at the right time, I’ll let Kenma-san know you’re here. Please sit and fill out these forms while you wait.” 

It took all of his inner strength to shakily grab the clipboard from her and begin signing his consents, each making him more nervous than the last. Waiving liability in case he didn’t like his future. Accepting trauma from anything unpleasant he may see. Paying the full amount in the event he was dead in the future and thus could receive no predictions. 

“She’s ready for you now.” Taking a deep breath and summoning All Might’s brave smile in his mind, he handed her his completed forms and made his way to the back room. It was a small, almost claustrophobic room with heavily scented candles and dark mood lighting. A woman dressed in elaborate robes with a veil over her face was sitting at a small table. She gestured to the empty chair.

“You’re younger than my usual clients,” she said in a weathered voice, it was hard to tell if she was old or simply worn down. Izuku found himself sympathizing. “How old are you, young man?”

“13,” Izuku squeaked.

“A good age, you have your whole life ahead of you,” she nodded holding out both of her hands. “Now, here’s how this works. My quirk can transport you into your body at twice your current age so when you are 26.” Izuku tried to wrap his mind around being 26, an adult with a job but found he couldn’t. His palms began to sweat. “You will be transported to a time, 13 years from now, when your adult self is asleep so there’s no struggle over dual consciousness. You will be able to see, hear and feel your immediate surroundings but not interact much. The more you try to assert control the more your future self will awaken. Once they’re awake, you’ll be transported back to your current body. You don’t need to worry about privacy, I will only be facilitating your transfer and won’t be able to see anything you do. Understand?”

Izuku nodded, he wouldn’t be able to see or do much if he was confined to wherever his future self was sleeping. It was seemingly innocuous and yet...

“You do understand that, if between now and then, you’ve died that the transference won’t work. Are you prepared for that possibility?” She said cautiously. Having already come this far, he nodded. “Alright then young man, lets see what the future has in store for you. Take my hands and let your mind go as blank as possible. Close your eyes and the next time you open them, you will be in your future.”

Izuku grasped her hands, supple and firm leading him to believe he was correct that she wasn’t as old as he first believed. He tried to quiet his thoughts but it like wiping a white erase board in permanent marker. There was so much to fear, so much to worry about in his future. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed, for once in his life, his hopes weren’t painfully crushed. 

He opened his eyes and saw All Might. Specifically a really nice framed All Might poster featuring the hero back to back with a skinny blonde man hung on a wall. It looked like it was signed by someone but he was too far away to read what it said. The date at the bottom of the poster was 6 years from the current year. Well, he was alive in 13 years which was nice to know. The relief that echoed through him was surprising, had he really believed- No, no time for that. He didn’t know how long this would last so he had to make his observations now.

Izuku was in a large bed lying on his side facing a wall, the All Might poster was the biggest and most obvious but the whole wall was covered in various pictures and posters. A smaller poster with explosions on it caught his eye and he couldn’t help but smile. Looks like Kacchan made it as a hero after all, he felt bitter, just a bit but overall was happy for his well former friend. Another had a girl in pink floating standing next to someone who looked like Ingenium. It’s not surprise he maintained his fanboy habits even as an adult. It was comforting in its familiarity. 

Speaking of which, he observed what he could see of what was most likely his home with some surprise. It was clean but still comfortably lived in. It was also quiet large with some nice, traditionally Japanese furnishings. Much more than a quirkless salary man could probably afford. The bedside table next to him had a clock, which flashed 0547 in bright green letters, a cracked phone he assumed was his and a worn and ripped notebook. It read Hero Notes vol 25. 

Izuku instinctively reached for the notebook only to falter. His shoulder hurt, it ached and pulled from what felt like a recent injury. But that didn’t surprise him nearly as much as the scars covering his right hand and forearm. They ached, the way old wounds did, something he would always be aware of but would get used to. What the hell did his future self get up to? He briefly latched onto the idea that he had become a hero but quickly discarded it. Quirkless people didn’t become heroes, he probably got a career as a quirk analyst or something which is why he could afford such a nice place. It wasn’t a bad life from the looks of it.

He clenched his scarred right fist hard, not a bad life still wasn’t anywhere close to his dream. Izuku felt a stirring in the back of his mind and he carefully relaxed his hand. Right, he couldn’t wake his future self, not until he was done. Before he could wonder what else he could do, an arm brushed against his back before draping over his side as another body pressed close to him.

“Too early, go back to sleep,” a soft voice mumbled sleepily into his back.

Izuku froze, so conditioned to hands hurting him but the arm instead just held onto him lightly, like they didn’t want to let him go. It was cool to the touch but it felt good, like chill breeze on a warm day. Oh. He stared down at the pale arm gently embracing him until his vision became blurred. Oh. Izuku had been so prepared to accept a miserable future, even one where he didn’t exist. The idea that he was happy, that he was loved? Even more than being a hero, that had seemed too impossible to even dream about. 

He grasped the cold hand and intertwined their fingers like it was his only lifeline. Izuku sniffled, holding onto the hand until he blinked and found the only hand he was holding was that of the fortune teller. She let him grip her fingers as he composed himself, re-orientating himself back into his small, unscarred body.

“Are you alright, my boy?” She asked gently.

“Yeah,” Izuku said through his tears which probably didn’t help his case. “Really yes, I saw-” his breath hitched. “It was good, it was so good and I never thought- I couldn’t imagine someone like me could have that.” She relaxed and gave his hands a squeeze before letting go. 

“I’m glad, most people who cry during my sessions don’t do it for happy reasons. Take your time to calm down, Nami-chan will help you when you’re done. After that, your future awaits you.”

“Yeah,” he cheered, sloppily wiping his tears. No matter how bad things were now, they would eventually lead to the cozy home, the wall full of pictures and comforting hand around his side like it belonged there. He would wait a lifetime for that, 13 was nothing.

(luckily he didn’t even need to wait that long for his future to begin with a fated encounter, a question and a promise that his dreams could be reached)

13 Years Later

“‘zuku, you okay?” Shouto asked sleepily from behind him. 

“Yeah, why?” Izuku questioned as he blinked himself back to awareness feeling a bit muddled and out of it. 

“You’re gripping my hand pretty hard,” Shouto said pushing himself up onto his elbow, “also you’re crying.”

“Aren’t I always crying?” Izuku joked turned to look at his beautiful sleep rumbled boyfriend. Shouto just gave him a thoughtful look. “I’m fine, look,” he responded wiping the tears away. “I just, I think I was dreaming and you know how emotional I get.”

“Was it a nightmare?” Shouto asked settling himself back down into the bed, cuddling close on one of the rare days where one or both them wasn’t patrolling. 

“No, no, I don’t think so,” Izuku said shaking his head. He can’t be sure but he thinks he’d been dreaming of his past, of that sad, quirkless boy he’d been. If only there was some way he could tell that kid that things would get better, better than he could have possibly imagined. With the feel of Shouto’s dual temperatures pressed up against him, Izuku looked over at what Shouto called his Wall of Worship as if supporting his friends and colleagues was a bad thing.

All Might’s poster, the exclusive one of a kind poster his mentor had presented to him upon Izuku’s graduation as always drew his gaze. Too far away to read it properly Izuku still had memorized the words from the moment he’d read them, etched onto his heart.

To my boy,

Your bravery and kindness have inspired me from the moment we met. I cannot wait to watch you shine. Your future begins now. 

All Might Yagi Toshinori

[catflorist]

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

pt 8: roots

"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"

"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.

"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.

Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.

"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"

Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."

The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.

"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."

"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.

Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."

When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.

"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.

Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.

"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"

Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.

"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.

"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.

.

.

The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.

Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.

For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.

Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.

A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.

Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.

One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.

Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.

.

.

As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.

First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.

Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.

Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.

One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.

Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.

Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.

In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.

.

.

Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.

"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."

Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."

"How do you know?"

"I know because you told me."

The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.

"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.

He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.

Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.

The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.

Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.

Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."

A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.

"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."

Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.

When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.

He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.

Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."

When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.

All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.

.

.

In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.

Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.

It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.

Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."

"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."

"One last trip, then."

Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.

Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."

Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.

Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.

The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.

"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"

"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."

To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.

"You know something. Don't you?"

"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."

He whispered it in Sakura's ear.

.

.

When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.

The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.

A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.

"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."

"You're not Sakura," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Who are you, then?"

"Sarada."

He remembered this name from a dream.

"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.

Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."

Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.

The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.

"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."

He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.

.

.

.

.

fin

–––––––––– this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want––and at the end the ocean will be waiting.

thank you to: ––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku ––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story ––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write ––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?) 

and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you! roya