#anyway! my boy! he's perfect! he takes notes! he is diligent and good at his job!

[meyerlansky]

MASTERS OF THE AIR, PART ONE ↳ curt + 📝

[messers-moony]

Ignored | R.L

Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Deaf!Fem!Reader

Summary: Remus thinks his Charms partner is ignoring him until she tells him something that changes his view of her.

He knew something was off about her. Remus knew something was off with her from the day she ignored him in Charms with no second thought. They were supposed to work together that day, but how could he when it seemed that every word he said went in one ear and out the other. It saddened him because, frankly, Remus really liked her. He thought she was stunning.

Not to mention she was very close friends with Lily, who spoke the world of her. But it seemed that Y/n never really talked. Lily and Y/n studied together frequently, but how often did they really talk? Thinking about it, Remus had never seen Y/n talk. Sirius always made her blush, and James even made her smile, but she never spoke. It was worrying.

Finally, Remus gathered the courage to poke her in Charms class, and Y/n turned to him with a confused expression on her face. The curious glint in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by the scarred boy, and it almost made him melt on the spot. Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled, making him want to fix it for her. He was getting distracted, again.

“ We have a project to start today; it’s due in a month. When would you like to start? “ Remus asked, and Y/n turned to her quill.

Once again, she ignored him, or so he thought; then he was handed a piece of parchment, “ I’m deaf. “

“ Oh. “ He muttered; now he felt daft.

Remus gently took her hand in his and began tapping in Morse code, “ Do you know morse code? “

“ Yes. “ Y/n tapped back with a gleeful smile.

That smile was enough to turn him to mush. So this project would be more complicated than initially planned because they would have to write back and forth or tap back and forth. But they would get through it. They had to.

“ Library, after dinner? “ Remus tapped, “ Yep! “

Remus chuckled. Y/n wished she could hear it. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed—the way his green eyes slightly glazed with a gorgeous tint of clear coat. The sides of his sides would crinkle adorably. His lips turned up in a breathtaking smile. His hands felt soft when he tapped to her in Morse code. Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

The day went on quicker than expected. Remus sat with the Marauders at dinner and told them of his new phenomenon. Y/n sat with Lily at the end of the Gryffindor table, where they tapped to each other. Y/n even got to tell Lily all about the project she had to do with Remus. Lily even confessed her lingering feelings for the Potter boy, which Y/n smirked at.

After dinner, Y/n and Remus both made their way to the library. Y/n collected the books while Remus had taken a seat near the windows. A hidden spot in the corner of the library. He always saw her sit in this particular corner. So when she took notice of his observation, Y/n smiled happily.

They studied together and began their project on apparating and disapparating—a two-parchment essay on the dangers and the benefits of the particular charm. Remus was to do the risks, and Y/n was to do the benefits. They worked in silence and diligently. Remus’ love language was always quality time anyways.

The noise of a book shutting made Remus jump in his spot; then, he was handed a piece of ripped parchment, “ I’ve finished my part of the essay. “

“ Okay. “ Remus replied, and Y/n gave him a glorifying smile.

He watched as Y/n left the library. Remus tried to think of all the ways to possibly ask her out or take her on a date, but his brain was scattered. The full moon would be tomorrow, and his focus wasn’t great. Worries and insecurities filled his mind. So after another hour, he finished his part of the essay and walked back to the Marauders dorm.

The following day was sluggish. Remus felt extraordinarily tired. When he went to sit down at his Potions seat beside Lily, a chocolate bar was waiting there with a piece of parchment. Lily smiled cheekily while Remus stared in awe of his favorite chocolate. The boy sat down and picked up the piece of parchment, quickly recognizing Y/n’s messy sprawl.

“ I know your secret ;)

I hope you have a good day, regardless! “

- Y/n

Remus’s cheeks flushed a brilliant magenta, and Lily chuckled at his star-struck expression. The boy was so clueless. Remus pocketed the note and removed part of the wrapper, then began eating the delicious treat, still flabbergasted at its mouth-watering taste. Honeydukes was truly amazing in every way.

The full moon seemed more bearable that night. Not just for him but for the dog, stag, and rat. None of them were injured too badly this time. Nonetheless, Remus was still dragged to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey took care of all his wounds that would eventually turn into awful-looking scars. No ones perfect, and Remus Lupin was no exception.

But when Remus woke up the following day to tapping on his hand, he smiled, “ I love you. “

“ I love you too. “ Remus tapped back, and Y/n blushed after realizing; she hadn’t known he was awake, “ No need to be afraid. I’ve liked you for a while. “ Remus added.

“ Date me? “ Y/n tapped while smiling sheepishly, and Remus patted the spot beside him on the bed.

Y/n climbed from the chair she was sitting on and laid beside him. His right arm wrapped around her waist, and her right hand laid on top of his chest. Along with her right leg placed gently over his. Remus kissed the top of her head carefully before tapping on her waist.

“ Of course. “

[hannie-dul-set]

PAIRING. huang renjun x fem! reader. GENRE. high school! au, suggestive. WARNINGS. attempted murder, mentions of blood and self injury, veryy descriptive kissing, mc has a few screws lost, swearing, depictions of unstable behavior. WORD COUNT. 1.8k GENRAL TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @leejunini @astroboy-lele @unknown5tar @yunoyeol @w0nni3wrld @charm-art @bat-shark-repellant @keemburley @deliciouslyyellow​ (pls dm me to be added/removed!)

NOTE. ah yes, the only two genres: murder and making out. inspired by the dream i mentioned earlier. different events, but same vibe HAHA. disclaimer that no matter how much you hate your academic rival, never ever turn to attempted murder! thank you and enjoy

huang renjun— with all his picture perfect smiles, prim and proper tucked in shirts, a pretty face enough to have you on your knees, and with a perfect gpa to top it all off— was someone you wanted.

wanted six feet under the ground.

“hey, congrats!”

speak of the fucking devil.

“you always do really well,” huang renjun towers over you in front of your desk as you sit down. you look up from the wrinkled certificate that have the abhorrent words second honorable mention printed on it's scented surface, only to face his fucking face instead. he beams at you with a smile. you feel convulsions wringing inside your throat. “congratulations again.”

you don't miss the first honor certificate tucked between his books in a measly attempt of concealment. it takes everything in your power to force out something of a smile.

“thanks. you too.”

with that, he quickly scurries away into his seat next to yours with red ears.

your first period teacher enters, beginning class with a greeting, but your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only midterms, you breathe out through your nose, hugging your arms above your desk while sketching out a study plan for the rest of the semester in your head. there’s enough time before graduation. the hold you had on yourself gradually becomes tighter.

still, you know that even if you worked yourself day and night until you bled cold and crimson, huang renjun would still be one step ahead. you bite down your lip, peeling off the dry skin with a sourness writhing in your gut, digging your fingers deeper into your arms. if only he were gone. you leer at the boy diligently taking his notes beside you. if only he were gone gone gone gone—

your eyes widen, ignoring the blood staining your nails.

if only he were gone.

after class, you walk up to his desk and asked if he wanted to work on the physics homework at his place tomorrow. he says yes with starry eyes in a heartbeat.

the next day, renjun couldn’t wait for the final bell to ring. you, too, couldn’t remain in your seat— albeit for a different reason. so when the ringing occurs, the both of you don’t waste a second in finally heading out of the campus.

it’s a silent walk to his place, a standard suburban neighborhood, the sky slowly turning orange in the background. every time you turn your head to look at him, he looks back with a small smile, and you can’t help your hands from twitching at your sides.

renjun unlocks the door and meekly welcomed you inside.

“you can leave your shoes here,” he says, digging his keys into the back pocket of his school slacks with dangling noises. you look at him, smiling, and with a soft hum you leave your school shoes next to his, trailing behind him into the living room.

looking around, you ask him. “are your parents home?” there was an opening that leads to the kitchen, glass doors showing the backyard. the stairs that lead to the second floor are made of sleek, dark oak. it’s a modern interior. they have a fireplace inside.

“no,” he breathes out, wetting his dry throat with a swallow before turning back to face you. “they’re out on business. i don’t think they’ll be home until the weekend.”

the both of you stop right in front of the staircase.

“i see.”

he quickly muffles a cough and leads you up to his room.

the inside of renjun’s room is neat— organized books on the shelf and sheets neatly pressed. There’s a set of candles beside his bed. you hold back a scoff. as expected from the top student.

your eyes flit over from the window above his bed to look at him, instead.

“you don’t have to be so nervous around me, you know,” you muse, dropping down your bag to join him on the floor. worksheets littered with numbers and constants, gravity and acceleration, all scatter on the floor. they blow with the wind knowing that they wouldn’t even be filled in, anyway.

“sorry,” renjun sputters out, loosening his striped necktie with two fingers. his vision is kept trained on the wall behind you. “i’m not— i’m not doing it on purpose.”

you adjust your legs on the floor, skirt riding. “is there a reason?”

“a reason?” he gulped.

“why you can’t look me in the eye.”

renjun thinks he sees the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“i’ll— i’ll go open the window, it’s a little hot in here, isn’t it?” scrambling to his feet, his knees sink into the navy sheets of his bed, reaching for the window in a nervous flurry to let the air in. “the news said that the temperature’s slowly gonna start rising but i didn’t think it would be—”

he bumps into you when he turned back.

there’s a click from behind him.

the wind stopped coming in.

“it’s not really that hot.”

the way your breath fanned against his lips makes his head spin in circles.

you have an arm out against the glass, your sleeve’s fabric grazing his tempered cheek when you went to shut the window down. renjun feels a ghost in the air where there’s a space in between you. “i— i guess you’re right,” he says, clearing his throat. “i never expected that you’d ask to work together.”

there’s syrup at the end of your sentence. “you seemed pretty happy when i did, though.”

he isn’t sure if it’s just him or if you’re slowly getting closer. “well, that’s— that’s because i—”

“you don’t have to say it.”

your voice digs deep into his bones like chains of velvet. he can feel your chest pressing against him now, crushing the sense of rationality that he was bestowed with from birth and is replaced with a warm lush of rabid, violent waters gushing into bit of him stomach,

it comes off a whisper yet it sends him reeling.

“i know.”

renjun swallows. hard. but he’s afraid you’d hear the manifestations of a tempered restlessness that had managed to crawl its way up to the tips of his fingers— which found themselves resting onto the curve of your back. stray strands of his swair sweeps above his eyes, obscuring the closeness of your face, and he wants to ask how. how did you know that he likes you.

he never got to.

the question doesn’t even get to resurface after the first hit of your cherry flavored chapstick, his bottom lip caught in between yours, teeth grinding against the plush, pink skin. the second hit has his decorum slowly peeling away from his skin when his tongue traces over yours in a hot mess of delirium, when you settle between his legs, a coarse groan vibrating in his throat. the third has him forgetting his own name.

his eyes are hazy when you pull back with a rough smacking of the mouth. with a short-winded voice, you ask him.

“do you mind if i make a call?”

renjun looks at you in a fit of breathlessness.

an airy laugh leaves your lips that he can’t stop staring at. you press a kiss on his nose. “my parents need to know that i won’t be going home tonight.”

dazed, he answers. “y-yeah, sure.”

he blinks a few times before letting you go.

“take your time.”

you send him a smile before fishing your backpack from the floor and leaving the room.

just like that, a switch was flipped.

upon closing the door, you quickly twist the knob, locking it with the keys that you’d snatched from him earlier. it’s convenient that he has each one labelled— a belated thank you to your school’s ever organized golden boy who never fails to make you sick in the stomach.

at each wall you pass, you make sure to seal the windows shut and have all the doors closed. the contents of your bag make steady pangs against your back as you shuttled down the stairs. you lock the back door shut, close all the windows, turn on all the lights, and throw a match into their fireplace, waiting for the fire to come to full bloom. all that’s left is the kitchen.

there’s no time wasted in turning everything on— the microwave, oven, and the stove until you can't crank them any further. embers fly into the air. it’s getting hotter. you duck down to the compartment under the stove to reveal a white painted propane tank, taking out a cordless soldering iron to seal the safety relief valve close. you place a rag over the opening valve and twist it halfway through. a hissing sound whizzes through the air.

with that, you leave through the front door, locking it for good measure. his keys disappear into the bush nearest to their porch.

it’s only a matter of time until huang renjun ceases to be a pest anymore. if not for good, then at least lethally injured.

you head home to finish your physics worksheets that were due tomorrow.

for the first time in god knows how long, you wake up and head to school with a well rested air.

you take your things out of your backpack, humming a soft tune right before the bell rings for your first class. your other seatmate— donghyuck— notices your unusual cheery demeanor, and inquires about its oddities. you simply answer him with an allusion to finally being free. he laughs it off and turns his head to the chalkboard.

five minutes before eight. the doors creak open. you’re ready to stand and greet your teacher until you realize that it isn’t her.

it’s not.

it’s not.

it’s not.

something nauseating knocks into your lungs and stifles your throat, eyes wide and stinging. it squeezes your neck with poison prickling the surface.

huang renjun enters the classroom with his usual nods and smiles to everyone he passes.

“holy shit, dude. you look like hell.”

“i didn’t get any sleep last night,” he laughs, lightheartedly. “guess i’ll have to sleep through recess.”

your teeth grind against your lips, supple skin turning redder at each nip. your nails leave scratches on the desk as you rattle in your seat, thinking, thinking, panicking. each breath feels like choking on pulverized copper in sulfuric air. there’s a ringing in your ears and you hear nothing except your own voice screaming why is he here why is he here why is he here?

he doesn’t go to his desk. he’s standing right in front of you.

“you look well.”

it sears your fingerprints off your skin.

you don’t answer, don’t even look at him. he breaks into a small smile and leans forward, one hand pressed against your desk and the other reaching for a lock of your hair as he nears and nears and nears. “there’s something here,” he says.

there isn’t.

“you left my window unlocked, baby.”

his hot breath hits your cold cheek, tucking a strand behind with a smile. to everyone else, it would look sweet— heart fluttering. to you it was a death sentence. renjun breathes out a contained chuckle into your ear before letting his hand fall on your shoulder, a tight grip at the last second.

“better luck next time.”

© HANNIE-DUL-SET. 2021.

[juniorgman187]

Sleight of Hand (Reid Fic)

Summary: Practical Joker Reader makes the unsuspecting naive Dr. Reid the object of her most recent prank - stealing his ID badge.  Category: Pure Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Super brief mentioning of dark nature of job, prank Word Count: 2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Despite what anyone else may believe, or what my resting face may convey, I’m not a mean person. I don’t take pleasure in people’s pain, and I certainly don’t intend to hurt anyone.  

With that being said - I do thoroughly enjoy messing with people from time to time. Which, in my opinion, is a completely different thing than being mean. 

At work, I’m known for pulling harmless pranks. Keyword: harmless. The dark nature that surrounds our job can consume us whole if we let it, and if anyone needs a good laugh here and there, it’s the BAU. Sometimes we all just need reminders that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously, and my silly antics are just the remedy. 

A window of opportunity for my most recent practical joke presented itself when I was packing up to leave for the day. 

Right across my desk was Reid’s and to my right was Derek’s, but at the moment, Reid was parked at the kitchenette, diligently stirring his coffee and copious amounts of sugar packets together while Derek’s head was buried six feet deep in paperwork. I could tell they would both be in for a long night and I didn’t envy them for that. 

“Alright, I’m out!” I announced to them both, but before I could actually get far, Derek stopped me. 

“Wait, (y/n)! Hold up,” He sat up from his chair to reach me with an outstretched arm. “Can you put this back on Reid’s desk?” 

I blinked hard when he tossed an object at me, so only after I caught it did I open my eyes and realize it was just a pen. 

“Wow. Lazy much?” I scoffed, gesturing to Reid’s desk that was less than seven feet away. Derek was probably exerting more effort into stretching out his arm like that to give me the pen as opposed to if he just got off his butt and walked to the desk himself.

“Pleaseee,” He partially begged, causing me to roll my eyes and replace the pen dutifully. As I slipped the pen into its rightful spot in his little cup of writing utensils, something caught my eye.

Lightbulb!

Just sitting there on Spencer’s desk was his badge. It was so carelessly placed in comparison to everything else on the table that had been situated in such a carefully, almost calculated, manner.

I knew Spencer had a habit of taking it off at the end of the day, but it baffled me just how flippantly he treated it. I figured he coveted his badge, but his haphazard placement of it suggested otherwise, while simultaneously showing his humanity to me. He wasn’t so cookie-cutter perfect after all, he could be messy, too.

It was that epiphany that almost made me not want to tamper with it, but it was my own humor that pushed me to do it anyway. 

Maybe it’s time Spencer learned a lesson, rather than being the one to teach it. 

If he was going to just let this thing lie around like it was nothing, then how would he react if it wasn’t there at all? 

I slyly looked up from the badge and to Spencer, whose back was still turned to me in the kitchen and then to Derek, who was too focused on his work to even notice that I was still here. Fully taking advantage of Spencer’s oblivion and the lack of a witness in Derek, I slipped the ID swiftly into my purse. Even if Derek wasn’t the type to be a snitch, it was better that absolutely no one knew.

Less than a millisecond after successfully concealing the badge within my bag, Spencer finally turned around and saw me lingering by his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked with the slightest bit of suspicion in his voice. There was no way he could’ve known what’d I’d just done unless he had eyes at the back of his head, so I stayed calm and collected, relishing in my guaranteed safety.

“Derek wanted me to return your pen,” I explained casually from across the bullpen. I watched as Spencer strolled unhurriedly towards me, and it might’ve been my paranoia that led me to this belief, but I swore I saw his eyes dart to his desk momentarily. However, if he had noticed the absence of his badge, he didn’t say anything. 

“Oh, thanks! Have a good night.” He smiled and waved back to me, showing no indication of mistrust. 

Sucker. 

“You, too!” I said with more zeal than the situation warranted. I was worried that might’ve given me away, but I had timed my escape so perfectly that I was already in the elevator by the time he returned to his desk, giving him no chance to inquire about my uncharacteristic behavior. 

That was a close one. 

When I came in the next morning, Spencer wasn’t there yet. Which was slightly strange given the fact that I was barely on time, so if he came in at any point after my own arrival, Spencer would be considered late for work. Occurrences like that only happen once in a blue moon, and usually, the reason for them are mysterious haircuts or something’s wrong. I hoped for his sake it was the former. 

Now you might consider me an impeccable troublemaker, but I’d first and foremost be rendered outstandingly forgetful. I say this only because I had completely forgotten that I stole Spencer’s badge the night before. But can you blame me? It was stashed away in my purse, hidden to my immediate sight, and the object was so small that it didn’t stick out to me or add an excess of weight in my bag that would serve as an unintentional reminder. It never once crossed my mind, not even when I looked to Derek to ask, “Where’s Reid?”

With a coffee mug in one hand, Derek put his arms out to either side of him and shrugged. Suddenly, the mug precariously shook from the draft created by someone blowing right by him. 

It was Reid.

“Whoa, slow your roll there, Pretty Boy. Almost knocked my coffee over.” Derek reprimanded playfully, clutching on tighter to his precious coffee that almost succumbed to Spencer’s speed when he breezed by.

But rather than apologizing or laughing, Spencer kept on his pursuit. Since the time he got here, his eyes were glued to his desk with determination. Even as he approached his desk, he hadn’t yet acknowledged me or Derek. Instead, he was mumbling to himself while haphazardly sorting through his desk. He was frantic and in disarray, a manner that worried both me and Derek.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” I leaned forward to observe his desk, which by now, was what I had to think was a direct reflection of his brain - completely chaotic. Papers were scattered, books were open to random pages, he even emptied out his well-maintained writing utensil cup. 

“I lost my badge.” He answered with his attention still trained on finding it. Luckily for me, that meant he couldn’t see the sudden smirk that grew on my face as a result of his response. There was no way to hide my entertainment without biting down on my lip to keep it from contorting into a smile or perching my head on my hand and using my knuckles to hide my devilish grin. 

“When’s the last time you had it?” Derek was surprisingly just as concerned as Reid and just as eager to help him find it, even setting down his coffee on his own desk to help Reid sort through his. 

“I always take it off at the end of the day, and I remember setting it on my desk, but I didn’t take it home with me. I don’t recall even leaving here with it, so I must’ve left it somewhere here.” 

At this point, my unbridled enjoyment of this was too much to physically contain, that I actually had to spin my chair a complete 180 degrees just to shield them from the sight of my imminent laughter. 

“(Y/n), do you remember seeing it -” Derek’s voice overpowered my muffled giggles, and when he looked up to ask me that, he would’ve seen my shuddering shoulders from where I was laughing hard, yet noiselessly. I spun my chair back around and looked at him with cool indifference. 

He quickly noted the shade of red I had turned and profiled the situation. But rather than outing me, he followed the instruction of my index finger to my lips and stayed quiet. 

I took his alliance as an opportunity to nonchalantly retrieve the badge from my purse. At a tantalizingly slow pace, I raised it in the air, until it was so high, Reid would be able to see it dangling from my thumb and forefinger. 

“Looking for this?” 

Spencer’s gaze immediately shot upward to look right at the badge, before flashing to me. 

What part of him reacted first, I wasn’t sure. Was it the sigh of relief or the flared nostrils and clenched jaw that came soon after? 

He wasn’t even going to say anything to me before grabbing it from me, that’s how pissed he was. But my quick reflexes lunged me backward at the same moment he reached out to get his badge from me, preventing him from successfully taking it back. I couldn’t believe he actually tried that and thought it would work. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” I wagged my finger left to right to communicate my disapproval. “Not so fast, Pretty Boy. I want something in return.”

He shot me the most deadpan glare. “What do you want?” 

I put my finger to my chin and looked up to coyly think about it, but more so to extend his torture for just a few seconds longer. I could feel him staring a hole into me as he grew more and more impatient. “Well, it’s gotta be something good. I mean, imagine what would’ve happened if this landed in the wrong hands.” 

“Evidently, it did.” He coldly replied. 

“Ouch,” I feigned offense and brought my hand to my chest to clutch my heart with a short gasp. “I’m so hurt,” I said with the biggest pout.

He was not nearly as entertained as I was, and his lack of amusement came in the form of a stoic, “I’ll teach you sleight of hand.” 

My body actually had to reboot at the sound of his proposal. “Wait, are you serious?” I clarified. 

“Yes. It physically pains me every time I watch you try to do it, so I figure it’s better for me if I teach you how to do it properly instead of having to sit through another one of your lousy, pathetic magic tricks.”

I would’ve been offended, but I’d been begging him to teach me sleight of hand for months, so the insults were quickly disregarded by me in case he changed his mind during the time I’d take up being hurt by his cruelty.  

“Deal,” I smirked while handing him his badge back. 

Needless to say, I did teach the good doctor a lesson, but it seems he still hasn’t learned … for why would you teach the biggest practical joker in the office sleight of hand? That only adds to my arsenal of tricks I have up my sleeve to use against my coworkers.

Maybe I should teach Spencer another lesson and see if he learns this time around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722​ @spencersmagic​ @spencerreid-mgg​ @half-blood-dork​ @goldeng1rl8​ @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms​ 

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #26: Cracked: Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou’s a controlling bastard. But every now and then, something slips.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, bratty sub!Bakugou, soft domme!reader, bondage, overstimulation, begging, cum play, dry orgasms

Notes: We are finally caught up! This may be the same reader and the same Bakugou as yesterday’s fic. So... let that mean what it will. 👀 Navigating Bakugou as a sub is definitely interesting, but I like to think that, if he can be vulnerable for you, he can be a switch for you, too. 

EDIT: Forgot to add! Today’s prompt was “Overstimulation.” But that will become very obvious to you imminently. 

Kinktober Masterlist

Bakugou’s a controlling bastard. But every now and then, something slips.

Some nights, he comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hero work is high-pressure. Life-or-death, always. As a kid, it was all about the glory for him. But now, it’s been brought abruptly to Bakugou’s attention that there’s no saving everybody.

When the pressure of control sends cracks spidering through the veneer of his confidence, he has you to fall back on. You can assume control. You can take care of him. For the world, he’s strong. Always.

Sometimes, here, you get to be the strong one.

Tonight, he’s been quiet and fitful- needy, even if he isn’t very good at showing it. He gets temperamental when you draw too far from him. So, after dinner, you get the handcuffs. And to your immense delight, he relents.

It’s better when he’s ready to admit that he needs it. It means he’s going to let you help him, without having to bust through his iron-clad walls first.

By the time his resolve breaks, you’ve got him cuffed soundly to your bed. You’re perched in his lap, riding his cock slow and smooth. He’s drawing into himself, so you’re testing his patience. It’s one of the easiest ways to find out what he really wants. Katsuki is transparent, when his patience wears thin.

“That’s it,” you praise, even if he’s not ready to give you what you want. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy for me, Katsuki, letting me give it to you slow like this.”

His jaw ticks. His eyes crackle like bright, hot flame as he glares up at you. Every so often leading up to this moment, he’s let out a little grunt of sensation, but the look he gives you now implies that you’ve made an especially low blow.

“So patient,” you croon, giving a deep, low scoop of your hips against his. He groans through clenched teeth with hard lines of muscle standing out in his shoulders as he strains against the cuffs. “Waiting so well for me like this, Katsuki. My perfect, patient-“

He snaps.

Planting his unbound feet on the mattress, Bakugou gives a demanding roar and thrusts his hips violently against yours. It’s awkward and fumbling with nothing to brace against, but he can’t hold out any longer.

“Just- fucking- get it- over- with-“ he snarls between brutal pumps of his hips. Above him, you’re doing your best to fight the pleasure. You grab his hips and pin them down hard, pulling yourself abruptly off of him and watching as he growls and squirms.

“Tell me what you want,” you practically bark. Katsuki’s face is scarlet.

“Shut up,” he snaps back. “I said it already.”

“No. Tell me all of it.”

“God dammit. Just fucking give it to me.”

“What? Give you what?”

“Too much!” Bakugou blurts the words and then immediately shrinks into the mattress, sullen and embarrassed, “I want… too much again. Okay?”

“Baby,” you purr, softening immediately. He’s struggled through his own insecurities and given you what you asked for. Now, it’s time to reward him. You lean down and push a tender kiss against his damp forehead, sliding a palm up and down his heaving chest.

“You want me to overstim you?”

The flush is creeping down to his chest now. He glares at you, mortified, but pushing himself.

“Yeah.”

Much better.

You sense the root of his request easily. He needs to be exhausted tonight. He wants to fall into your hands. It’s been a long time since he let you take control like this, so he must really need it.

“Okay,” you soothe. You swing a leg back over his hips, lining his cock up with your slick pussy. “Alright. I’ve got you, babe.”

This time, when your body sucks him down, you don’t hold back. You hold him by the throat and ride him viciously, and he meets you at every stride. You revel in the way your flesh slaps against his, the soft creak of the mattress springs beneath you.

“That’s my baby,” you rasp, bracing your other palm on his broad chest and relishing the scrape of your clit over his body. It’s pushing you to climax far faster than you’d anticipated, but he’s starting to pull at his restraints again.

He’s not far off, either.

It’s the quiet gasp of your name from his lips that makes you sure.

“Almost-“ he chokes, and you press a little more firmly against his throat, drawing the restriction as tight as possible right before he cums. His chin wobbles a little as he lifts his head, bristling beneath you from mere sensation.

You hit your peak first. But he doesn’t follow far behind. As you fall forward against him, your pussy seizes hard around his shaft and milks the pleasure from his body. His wrists jerk against the cuffs- fighting his innate need to grab you hard while he cums. He plants his heels and shoves his hips up hard against yours, and his cum rolls down your insides and coats his shaft as he pumps it slowly into you.

“Good…” You’re breathless, pushing yourself up onto your hands to force the post-orgasm weight from your limbs. “Good one, baby.”

You stroke your fingertips down the side of his sweaty cheek and push a tender kiss to his pink mouth.

You’re just getting started.

Drawing yourself slowly off of him, you settle onto your knees between his legs. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Look how much you made for me,” you croon. His cock is slick and messy from his own cum- and yours- and you wrap your palm around his twitching shaft. He’s starting to go soft, but as soon as you squeeze, Bakugou bristles, and you can feel the surge in his muscles as his body reacts involuntarily to the sensation.

“So slippery,” you purr. “So slick for me. Let me give you another one, okay?”

You tighten your grip- firmer than usual and spurred on by the lubrication that his cum provides. He’s already trembling beneath your fingers, but he’s taking his pleasure in stride. He asked for this, after all. You plan to deliver.

“Gah!” He shudders when you start to stroke. You’re jerking him off in earnest, gripping and tugging and using every ounce of that lubrication to your advantage. Your palm slips easily over his tender flesh, and it’s not long before he’s flushed and twitching in your hand again. Fresh swells of precum break through his thickening cum.

It’s when he’s getting ready for his second orgasm that Bakugou starts to whimper.

It’s your favourite sound of his. Prized because of its rarity. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve managed to pull that sound from him, and it’s almost perfectly aligned with the amount of times that he’s let you do this to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tender already,” you purr, keeping up your steady rhythm. Squeezing just a little tighter, for good measure. His hips jump into your palm and his toes start to curl.

“T-tender,” he stutters, “g-gonna… baby…”

The last syllable gets drawn out as his body arches clean off the bed. He tenses, and his cock shoots thick ropes of cum over your hand and across his belly. There’s more than you anticipated, given the fact that he’d just cum already, but you’re not complaining.

“Holy shit, Katsuki.” You dip your fingers into the mess on his firm belly, slicking fresh drops of cum across his cock. His whole body jerks, hard, when you touch his cock, and you draw your eyes quickly to his face. You want to drink in his expression.

He’s irresistible like this. His whole face has gone maroon, his lower lip pulled tightly between his teeth. His eyes are all heady and soft, blown out with desire and tender sensation. It makes you want to stop, want to throw yourself into his arms and pepper him with kisses, but you know you can bring him further.

“You want my pussy again, babe?”

“Oh, God.” His eyes roll hard as he draws a tight breath through clenched teeth. You only grin wider.

“Come on, baby, I know you got it in you.”

He shoots you a wicked glare, not appreciating his own words when they’re turned on him. But he leads out a heady sigh.

“Just fuckin’ get it over with already.”

You’re far too happy to oblige. This time, you turn your back on him. You reach behind you to dip your fingers into the cum that pools in the grooves of his stomach, and slick some over your own tender folds.

“Jesus,” he snarls, and his cock twitches against your ass.

You ride him a little slower and steadier this time, knowing that your own pleasure is spent. But it doesn’t matter when this is about him. You want him to be so overwhelmed with pleasure by the end that he can’t handle anymore. You want him to break for you. If you take him to pieces, you can put him back together again the right way.

By the time he hits his third peak, the air of aggression and impatience has gone completely. He ruts his way through it with desperate whimpers of overstimulated pleasure, twitching weakly against you as more cum drools into your body.

You clean him up diligently afterward. After licking the mess from his stomach and thighs, you suck down his flushed shaft and he gives a sob of desperate sensation. He’s gone sensitive, so sensitive, but your mouth isn’t enough to hurt. It’s just gentle enough to drive him to that tender ecstasy- the place that feels impossible to reach, with bruised flesh such as his.

You suck diligently and slowly, grabbing the swell of his balls and making him shout for you. His pleasure builds anyway, and you brace your hands on his tensing thighs as he fusses and cries your name and shakes against your lips.

He gives you two bare spurts of thin, desperate cum. You swallow it eagerly and pull away, stroking his trembling thighs.

It’s working. The cracks grow deeper.

“You’re almost there, baby,” you promise, kissing the hard flesh beneath your palms. He starts.

“Almost?”

“One more for me,” you plead. “C’mon, Katsuki, you’ve got one more, right?”

“N-no,” he grits, looking almost teary as he lifts his head to find your gaze. “No, please. I-I can’t take anymore, sweetness, baby, please.”

Concern rises sour in the back of your throat. You take a deep breath and crawl out from between his legs.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, tender as a lamb. You drop to the edge of the bed and push your forehead against his, reaching forward to twine the fingers of one hand with his.

He squeezes your fingers, carefully and distinctly.

Three times. I love you.

That’s your green light.

“Here,” you soothe, reaching into the bedside drawer and producing a bottle of cooling, water-based lube. “Let’s make it a little easier on you this time, okay?”

You squeeze a generous dollop into your palm and rub it between your fingers. When you get between his thighs again, his cock has started to droop in protest. He’s spent- far beyond spent- but you plan to push him through that. It’s what he’s asked for. What he needs from you.

“That must feel better.” You smooth your lubed hands over his cock- the skin is molten- and he fusses again, bristling beneath your fingers and letting out a fitful little moan of indignance. His fingers curl above the soft cuffs that bind him.

“Fuck,” he gasps, but as you squeeze and massage his exhausted flesh, he begins to stir to life again. Even the sensation of arousal seems painful, given the way he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head to one side.

“Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you promise, “I’m gonna take it nice and slow. I know you can do this, baby, I know you’ve got this for me.”

It doesn’t take him long at all to struggle and fuss his way to a peak.

You touch him in long, smooth, easy strokes, gliding your hand through the cool lube and letting him squirm between your fingers. Every breath he draws is shuddering. His skin is kissed all over with blush. You’ve never seen him look so desperate, so vulnerable before.

It’s no surprise that, as his thighs draw up and his hips shoot downward, as he thrashes against his restraints and sobs your name like a desperate prayer, he produces nothing.

His cock twitches and strains in your hand. His balls draw close, tight and protective. He’s coming, it’s clear, but his orgasm passes without a drop of cum.

“Please,” he begs as the desperate ache of a dry climax settles into his body. You pull your hands from him.

“No more,” he continues. “Please, god, I-I got nothin’ left for you.”

“I know.”

You unbuckle him from his restraints, leaving wet little fingerprints across the supple leather. As soon as he’s free, he rolls onto his side and grabs you tight.

“You’re okay,” you soothe, settling your sticky palms on his back. It doesn’t matter how messy you get- you’re going to clean him up soon, anyway. “You’re alright, baby, I got you.”

“Fuck,” he shudders into the crook of your shoulder. “Gonna fuckin’ get you back for this.”

You grin against his sweat-slicked skin and pull him a little closer.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[morkleemelon]

off the ice || chapter 6: grab my hand

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x fem. college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, angst, sports au, college au

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, suggestive material, depictions of bullying

author’s note: huge thanks again to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk I’ve made the executive decision to split up the last chapter since it was so long! Chapter 7, the finale, is done and will be posted in a few days <3 

Distance. Distance isn’t a word you would use to describe your relationship as he pulls you close at night. There’s no distance between the two of you as he lifts you up in the air during your nightly practice, strong hands firmly gripping your waist as you dance across the empty rink.

No.

But if one were to look past your smile, to wipe away the condensation and see clearly what’s really going through your head when you were together with Mark, they might just name the dreadful feeling caving in your chest “distance”. 

Weeks have passed by since the hate message incident in Mark’s room. You tried to pull out the arrow, to convince yourself it wasn’t true and that you could ignore it just like all the rest. Alas, its words struck so deep, you still bleed. 

It poisons your thoughts. Your anxieties had already worsened  and you found yourself pulling away from his affections, afraid of the way the people walking past might somehow be talking about you.

Mark is starting to have his suspicions too, flashing you concerned looks when you uncomfortably shrug his arm off your shoulders in public. To you, it’s because you’re scared of the ‘hateful’ stares from others. To him, it’s a riddle he can’t solve. 

Because when it’s just the two of you, you let yourself relax. Like yin and yang, you fight an internal battle between how much you adore your boyfriend and how terrified you are that you aren’t good enough for him. When it’s just the two of you alone, you stop running and let him close the distance. 

Right now is one of those rare times - the familiar cold and scraping of ice below your skates bringing you peace. 

Mark glides easily beside you on the empty rink. He’s improved a lot, much to your astonishment. A golden boy through and through, he proves that there’s nothing he can’t do as he conquers each move you show him. 

Coach Tanya was surprised when you spoke with her after practice one day to notify her that you’d decided to pair with Mark Lee, captain of the hockey team, for the winter competition. Her thin eyebrows were perked in playful judgement when you started to defend yourself, ready to bring up Yuna’s accident and your financial situation before she stopped you: “You’re my best skater, y/n, and I look forward to your performance. Work hard, captivate your audience, and you just might win”.

Watching Mark skate on ahead of you in the borrowed skates he makes do with, you can’t wait to prove her right.

“What are we going to practice tonight, y/n?,” Mark asks as he arcs a wide circle around you. 

“I think you’ve gotten most of the basics down, so let’s go over the first part of the choreography,” you decide, grabbing onto his hand and giggling as he swings you around with him. 

“We have choreography?,” Mark lifts your arm up to twirl you around. He stops you as you face him, a laugh leaving your lips before he smothers them with kisses. His fingers tickle at the hem of your shirt, cold to your bare skin. You squeal, the sound carrying eerily over the spacious rink.

“I thought about it a lot in my head,” you explain as you shove him away gaily, “and I planned a bit during my own practices. It’s not done yet, but I think we can make it work”. 

“My talented, beautiful girl,” Mark murmurs, catching up to you and wrapping you in a back hug. You sigh blissfully, catching his warm lips in the crook of your neck.

“Mark, we seriously do have to practice. The festival’s only a month away,” you mumble. Some nights, let's just say, you spend more time in the locker room showers than you do on the ice. Using your best intuition, Mark’s lips travelling down towards your collarbones equals not a lot of practice time. And as much as you want for him to distract you all night long, you have to put your skate down and bring your boyfriend back to focus on the task at hand.

He huffs slightly against your skin, but releases you obediently.

“It’s gonna start like this,” you swiftly continue on, positioning your arm gracefully behind Mark’s head, “put your hand here,” you move his hand behind your back like you had planned, “and tilt your head to look at me,”. You tip his jaw slightly so he now peers down at you, face not inches from yours.

Dropping your gaze, you maintain what little self control you have and refrain from thinking about the locker room. It’s right by the rink exit. It’d be so easy to just...

“And then?,” Mark whispers, voice low, waiting patiently in the starting position. His hand is warm against your back, but it tugs at your heartstrings too.

“And then you’re gonna spin me out like we practiced before”. You help him perform the motion, unfurling yourself from his grip and gliding down to spin a slow circle around.

You bring him slowly through the rest of the introduction, Mark copying the moves diligently. 

“Then when I skate back to you, lift me up in the air like we did last time. You think you can do it?,” you question. The move you’re about to attempt is quite difficult - a little dangerous, even, since Mark is still a beginner - but you trust him to never hurt you.

“I can do it,” he confirms confidently, holding his arms out to receive you. 

“Okay, slow at first,” you nod, skating up to him at half-speed, grabbing onto his shoulders to help lift yourself above his head. Mark’s strong hands connect with your body, hoisting you up by your waist and balancing your body carefully above his. Muscles burning, you steady yourself as he twirls you slowly down.

“Alright, again,” you command.

The two of you repeat the move, steadily increasing the speed until the lift is smooth to your satisfaction. 

“I think that was pretty good,” you compliment, slightly out of breath. 

“Only because of you,” Mark endears, panting as he rests his chin atop your hair.

You sigh into his chest, the comforting feeling of his palpitating heartbeat washing over you.

If only it could always be like this.

“y/n?,” Mark mumbles. His tone was almost unsure, as if he was about to say something you don’t want to hear.

You hum an affirmation.

“Is everything okay these days?,” he asks the question you dread answering, “I know,” he continues before you can blurt out your default lie, “I know you keep saying that it is, but I feel like...you know you can tell me anything, right?”. 

Mark changes his phrasing midway, always taking your feelings into consideration. The all too familiar wave of guilt fills you up to your ears and you step slightly away. The stadium is dim, only lit by the natural light of the night sky, but you can see the concern that creases his face out in your peripheral vision. 

Your eyes focus instead on his jacket button. The second from the top has a few loose threads. 

And that’s just how you feel too; the button was made for this coat - it wants to hang on and be there forever. But how could it persist when the world wants to rip it off?

“It’s nothing,” you insist bitterly, your peaceful mood tainted gray. You were so close to successfully ending another day without confronting your demons. Why must Mark sense it so well?

Please stop, Mark. Please stop.

“I don’t think it’s nothing”. There’s nothing but kindness and concern in his voice, but when he reaches his hand out to you, fear overcomes your rationality and you jerk yourself away. 

“It is nothing!,” you exclaim, overly defensive. Half of your mind screams at you to halt, to filter your words before you say something you would regret, but the fuse was already lit and they come tumbling out anyway. “Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying,”.

A beat passes. Two. Five.

The sharp words tear through your mouth like knives, but even then you can’t stop to think. The energy in the rink changed so quickly, your head spins with shock. Turning away from the pained expression you don’t want to see, you skate quickly towards the exit. 

The ice is solid as ever, but why does it feel like you’re sinking?

Slamming the dormitory door shut behind you, your skating bag hits the floor before you do. Back pressed against the concrete wall, shaking sobs rack through your body as you sink down to your feet.

“y/n, what happened?,” Yuna peers over her computer screen. Your roommate had finally returned home a few days ago after her leg had finally healed enough to be discharged. 

You don’t answer, only burying your teary face into your arms as you cry harder.

The metallic creaking of crutches ensues as Yuna approaches your slumped form. A comforting embrace wraps around your shaking shoulders and the smell of her daisy perfume engulfs you. Her scarred hands stroke through your hair as she says nothing, waiting for your hiccups to calm down.

Guilt eats away at you like nitric acid. It mixes with your frustration, concocting a perfect poison that destroys your last thread of self-respect. 

“Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying”

“Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying”

“Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying”

The hurtful words don’t stop echoing in your head. What’s worse is, even though you didn’t stay to look, you can imagine the pain that crossed his face as you left without another word. You feel absolutely disgusting.

This is it. He’s finally going to be done with me.

Moments pass, Yuna sitting patiently by your side as you manage to find your voice. The dam you built around all your secret cracks, disintegrating to pieces as you let everything out to your best friend. 

You tell her about all of the hate messages you’ve been getting for months now - how you tried to ignore them, but some of them hit too way deep to forget. You tell her about the dilemma with Mark. He’s never done any wrong to you, ever, but you feel like you can’t keep forcing your problems on him. When you confided in your financial situation with him, he dropped everything to help you with the competition. You at least want to be able to handle one thing by yourself, to not be a burden, but it’s tearing you apart at the seams.

“I don’t deserve him and he’s going to realize it sooner or later,” you lament, gripping onto Yuna’s arms for dear life. Gasping sobs ensue, even as you hold your breath desperately to stop them. “He’s probably already realized it after what I said. Yuna, what do I do? I’m horrible”. Bitter tears choke at your throat.

“Oh honey,” Yuna coos into your hair, “you don’t even know, do you?”. 

Hiccupping uncontrollably, you take gasping breaths, trying to calm down. Your roommate understands, patting you gently on the back. 

“When you’re in a relationship with someone, the line between having enough communication and enough privacy is tough to figure out. Should you tell him about the lint between your toes? Maybe not. But talking to him about what’s bothering you is not only okay, it’s the right thing to do”.

Yuna lifts your chin up to face her. She looks empathetically down at your watery eyes as she takes her sleeve to dry the fallen tears. You press your eyelids shut, taking deep breaths punctuated by hiccups.

“And Mark,” she continues, “this guy, he looks at you like you’re all the stars in the sky and he’s the first astronomer. There’s not a thing you could tell him that would bother him, that’s what I think. And I think he’s dying to know how he can help you”. 

“Yuna I- you don’t understand. I just left him there after saying that. And I can’t even go on a date with him without feeling like people are talking about us,” you gasp out, “So the person sending the messages is right; I’m not good enough for him and he deserves someone way better than me. Maybe this is for the better”.

“y/n, don’t you see?,” Yuna snaps sternly. You open your eyes. They’re pink-red, matching the tip of your nose. “You’re letting other people ruin a once-in-a-lifetime relationship for you. Do you know what happens when you leave to go to the bathroom when we’re all hanging out? Mark’s looking towards the women’s room every two seconds, waiting for you to come back. This guy will manage to find a way to bring up your name at least twice in the five minutes you’re away. He likes you so much, anyone with a brain knows, so it’s not fair to him for you to tell him what, or who he deserves. At least let him make his own decision”.

The advice resonates in the air. Your hiccups calm to a sniffle as it sinks in. Yuna’s right, you’re being so selfish right now. Actually, you’ve been selfish this whole time. By forcing everything to yourself, you were creating an even bigger problem than any of the ones you were trying to hide.

“Yuna, what do I do now?,” you whisper, dread setting in.

“Girl, go talk to him. Now.”

You must look a mess, but you don’t bother fixing yourself up before you’re out the door.

Yuna sends you off with a ‘good luck!’ as you run down the corridor. Rushing down the metal stairs, your frenzied steps echo through the empty stairwell. They sound as desperate as you feel.

Oh god, please let it not be too late.

Once you reach the first floor entrance, you notice through the glass door that it is now, in fact, pouring rain. You were too distracted before to notice the heavy sounds of precipitation pelting down over you. 

Hands shaking to send Mark a message, you tell him you need to talk and you’re coming to him. You have no umbrella, but you push open the door anyways. The freezing rain soaks into your skin but you run on, unfazed.

You’re drenched and shivering by the time you stand panting in front of his building. Dying street lights illuminate against the dark, night sky. Waiting, the rain stings your eyes.

Through the blur, Mark’s figure finally appears at the door window. You can’t quite make out his face, but you know it’s him. The metal frame creaks as he pushes it open.

“y/n, what are you doing?”. His voice is raspy and as he comes closer into view. You notice that his eyes are pink-red, matching the tip of his nose.

“I have to talk to you,” you state, voice wavering as fresh tears mix with the ice-cold precipitation. Mustering up all the courage you have, you ready yourself to tell him everything you’ve been holding back.

“Let’s go inside”. His voice is soft as he tugs at your drenched jacket sleeve. 

“No I-,” you choke, “I want to say it right now”.

The rain bears down hard as he lets go of your sleeve, allowing the frigid water to soak through his own self, waiting.

“You asked me if something was wrong,” your resolve comes crashing down, “and a lot has been wrong”. You squeeze your eyes shut to force out the unwanted raindrops. “The truth is, I’ve been getting hate messages every day since we started dating. Probably even before that. They say I’m a slut, or I’m fat and ugly. The details don’t matter”.

Mark takes a step towards you, the concerned expression creasing his brow in full view. 

“But then they say I’m not good enough for you,” your voice breaks as you admit the most painful part of all, blinking up at him, “and I can’t help but believe them”.

Futily, you swipe your drenched sleeve across your eyes to dry them.

“But even if I don’t deserve anything that you are, I need to tell you right now that I didn’t mean what I said today and I need to know if you still want me-”

Before the next raindrop could hit your skin, you feel yourself lifted up into a crushing hug.

There’s no sound except the heavy pitter patter of rain around you, but you can swear that there’s a symphony playing as he spins you around. His breath huffs against your neck. He’s crying too, you realize.

“y/n,” he croaks, body quivering with tears and from the cold, “I always want you. I-, you-”. Mark pulls you in extra tight as he struggles to find the right words.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” the words strain against Mark’s throat, “when I first saw you, I dropped my shit and ran away”.

You pull slightly away, looking up at him quizzically.

He shakes his head and continues, “You were so beautiful and even when I thought you hated me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all the time. I don’t want anyone else-”.

Grabbing your face with both of his hands, he presses desperate kisses to your forehead. The rain bears down hard, lightning cracking in the sky, but you’re numb to everything else except the feeling of his lips pressing their love onto your skin. 

“You’re it for me,” his voice wavers. The vulnerable confession sends you into a fresh wave of emotions and you grip onto the back of his neck, crying into his shoulder. “You’re my heart. I knew it from the first moment I saw you”. 

Pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes, he brushes back the wet strands of hair stuck to your face. You’re tempted to do the same, the once golden locks now almost black against his brow. 

“I love you”. 

The words leave his lips so suddenly, but they’ve been at the tip of his tongue for so long they roll off with ease. Your heart drums against your chest as time seems to stop. 

“You love me?” you choke, not believing your ears. His forehead is pressed against yours.

“I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. More than anything. So much that I can’t breathe. I was so scared when you left today because I thought I did something wrong and I was thinking of what I said and I was sitting at my desk waiting for you to call because I wasn’t sure if I should call you first after what happened but then I almost did and then-,”

You shut him up with your lips. 

He sinks into your touch, responding naturally as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your mind spins with a mixture of relief and excitement as you let all of your worries go. It was never about other people, you realize, it was about your own insecurities and you were tearing yourself down. Without realizing it, you forgot to take into account the other half of the relationship: Mark’s opinion.

But now you know for sure, the opinion that actually matters, not the anonymous person who doesn’t know better. He loves you. It’s you he’s chosen. Out of all of the people he could pick from, Mark holds you in his arms, whispering soft ‘I love you’s’ between each kiss. Kisses to your lips. 

How could you ever want him to be with someone else when you’re the one he wants?

“I love you too,” you reply breathlessly into his open kiss. 

We deserve to be happy.

He doesn’t say anything, instead responding by tugging your waist closer to him, moving his jaw feverishly to indulge you deeper. Water drips down from his hair, splashing onto the bridge of your nose.

“Let’s go inside,” you gasp. The heat of the moment made you temporarily forget, but the icy November weather slowly started to soak past your jacket. You shiver as a strong gust of wind blows past your drenched body.

Mark leads you inside and you hustle up to his suite. His hand is warm against your wrist and you can’t wait for it to be tangled in your hair again.

Slamming open the door, Mark’s arms are around your waist before it could drift shut. You jump up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carries you to his room, lips never leaving yours.

Jeno, unsuspecting, is lying on his bed with a book in his hands. If your eyes were open, you would flush at the incredulous look the poor boy shoots towards you. 

Meanwhile, your boyfriend works at your jacket zipper quickly, removing the wet outer layers as he sits you on his bed. 

Pausing a second, he turns his head to speak to his roommate. 

“Out”. 

You don’t have time to feel embarrassed before Mark’s jacket is on the floor and he’s lying you back, hovering over your body. The bedroom door rams shut as Jeno scurries out, not keen on seeing the scene progress any further. 

I’m sorry, man.

Your mental apology doesn’t last long as your wet hair soaks into the pillowcase beneath you. Mark kisses a line from your jaw down the side of your neck, raindrops wet on his tongue. The heat of his body contrasts the cold of yours and you want all of it against you. 

Rain-stained articles of clothing gather on the floor in no time.

“God, I love you so much,” Mark hushes against your ear. His gruff tone sends shivers down your back and you scratch your nails through the base of his hair. Your legs find their way around his hips again, pulling him down impossibly closer.

“I love you too,” you gasp back. 

He kisses between your collarbones, then looks back into your eyes, “do you want this?”. 

You nod frantically, your voice nothing short of breathless. “I want this”.

Peace you haven’t been able to feel for a long time blankets you as you lie on your lover’s chest, the two of you fresh out of breath. Such a revelation- him telling you he loved you was. And you want to savor the feeling forever.

It feels as if there was a thorn lodged in your heart, festering for months from your terrible, insecure thoughts and you’ve finally yanked it out. It feels like you can finally breathe.

Well, metaphorically. Physically, you may need a few minutes.

Mark’s hair sticks up in every direction, frizzy from being half-dried and from your constant tugging. Nonetheless, he looks beautiful to you in the dim, lamp-lit room. His chest rises and falls in your embrace and your fingers work to delicately trace the toned muscles of his torso. Mimicking your movements, he grazes his thumbs over the blue-purple masterpiece he’s painted across your neck and chest.

“Good?,” he asks nonchalantly.

You let out a soft snort at the sudden question.

Men will always be men.

“Great,” you admit. Heat creeps into your face as you recall the last hour or so. 

You guess there’s more benefits of hockey than just the uniform: the stamina and athleticism. 

His inflated ego fills the room palpably as he shifts in the messy bed, tugging the covers more over your tangled bodies. Noises arise from the kitchen, probably from his other suitemates. Embarrassment fills you to the brim when you realize that everyone probably heard the two of you. You were far too busy caught up in your passionate feelings to consider this, and now it’s come back to bite. 

Huffing shyly, you hide your growing blush into the nape of your boyfriend’s neck. Clanging of kitchenware resonates clearly through the room’s thin walls. You can��t help but distress over how clearly the others could hear you. And for such a long time too.

Oh my gosh. How will I ever face them?

Mark seems to sense your thoughts and lets out a light chuckle. 

“Babe, we’re fine. They all hookup all the time. And Yuna-,”

“I don’t need to know, thank you,” you interrupt sharply. Squeezing your eyes shut, you fight off the disturbing imagery.

Ten’s voice drifts through the suite and the sound of the front door shutting rings through them with unnerving vigor. You jolt at the bang, stiffly turning your neck towards the locked bedroom door, as if it would reveal any answers. Mark looks at you, the confused expression on his face making it apparent that he doesn’t know what is happening either. Slowly, he shifts up into a sitting position.

“You’re fucking kidding me - it was that bitch?”. The senior boy’s voice cuts through the nighttime quiet abruptly. Struggling to stitch together the context of the overheard conversation, you force your sore body to sit up as well. From how it sounds, it seems like Ten is on a phone call.

You look at your boyfriend for confirmation. With a nod, the two of you mutually agree to silently withdraw from the comfort of the covers and get dressed. 

“I don’t - listen to me, do they know for sure?,” Ten asks anxiously from the other side of the door.

With increasing concern, you hastily pick up your wet, discarded clothing. The cold, uncomfortable sensation makes you wince. Mark grabs your wrist, preventing you from putting on the still-soaked yoga pants. Shaking his head, he takes the garment and tosses it over his desk chair. From his dresser, he hands you a dry set of his own clothing. 

The gesture makes you smile and you gratefully pull on the warm sweats and hoodie. They’re obscenely large for your frame, but it’s a sure upgrade from your sad, rain-ruined outfit. Mark ruffles your hair, cheeks like strawberries as he kneels down without a word to roll up your pants. 

A small giggle escapes your lips. He’s just seen you naked, but of course it’s this that gets him blushing.

The happy expression is quickly wiped off your face as Ten continues abruptly, anger apparent in his voice. 

“Fucking hell! Hillary Choi? The bitch even admitted to it?”. The senior captain’s voice is nothing less than a yell now. Mark’s mouth hangs open in shock as he stares towards the door. The concern and shock shining in his eyes allude to how uncharacteristic his friend’s behavior is.

“Hillary Choi…,” you mutter under your breath, the name ever so familiar to your ears. 

“Wait she’s…,” Mark turns his gaze to you carefully, silently confirming his correct assumption.

“She’s the one who hates me…,” you confirm bitterly with a nod. 

Mark stands up, grabbing both your hands as you sit back on his bed. His expression is sad, perhaps also peppered with anger - something you’ve never seen in your boyfriend. Gently, he tugs you to your feet.

As you push the bedroom door open slightly, the common room comes into view. Ten’s figure is hunched over the kitchen sink, listening intently to the person on the other side of the phone speak. His breathing is rushed - you’ve only ever seen him this mad the day Yuna entered the hospital. 

Then it all makes sense.

Opening the door fully, you reveal Jeno and Haechan sitting on the common room couch. You make eye contact with them as you and Mark stand at the doorway, listening. Their expressions tell that they’re equally as concerned as you.

Mark’s hand in yours, you tiptoe your way to join the two friends on the sofa. 

“The fucking psycho bitch,” Ten spits. His hands run furiously through his raven hair as he begins pacing around. The senior sees all of you gathered together, but makes no move to acknowledge any of you other than a hard stare.

The tension is suffocating. Everyone wants to say something, but the waters seem too rough to test. Anxious glances are exchanged, but not a word leaves any of your mouths as Ten continues pacing around, the other speaker on the phone relaying more information. You conclude to wait until the call is over before you try to ask.

“Okay so she’s at the police station right now? ”.

Mark’s hand squeezes yours in silent shock. 

“Okay… fuck,” Ten rubs tiredly at the bridge of his nose, “alright okay, thank you, officer. I- yeah I’m okay, thank you. Tell Yuna I’m on my way now”. 

A moment of silence suspends heavily over the air as he hangs up the call. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes in relief as Haechan clears his throat awkwardly and takes one for the team.

“Uh…,” the sophomore calculates for a bit, eyeing the enraged senior carefully, “Ten, what’s going on?”.

For the first time ever, it seems, the mischievous boy’s voice rid itself of its usual snide tone, replaced by refreshing sincerity. 

Ten sets down his hand, revealing tears building up in his previously covered eyes. Jeno doesn’t waste a second, getting off the couch without a word and wrapping his arms around his crying friend. 

You hesitate before asking, “It’s Yuna’s case?”. Keeping your voice as steady as possible, you hope you’ve succeeded in masking your growing fear.

Ten sniffs, patting Jeno’s back, prompting the younger to let go. Wiping away the stray tears, he nods. Everyone waits patiently as the distraught senior calms himself down with deep breaths.

“They caught the person who tried to kill her- or is it people? I don’t even know. And yes - they tried to kill her,” Ten rubs a stressed finger between his brow, “It was Hillary Choi, some junior girl who’s obsessed with Mark - she’s in our fanclub or whatever. They said she confessed it was all part of a plan? I don’t- I don’t know,” his voice breaks off as he tugs at his hair before heading over to grab his keys. 

“Wait, I don’t understand. If she’s obsessed with me why would she go try to hurt Yuna?,” Mark’s voice rings with alarm. A sinking feeling of dread sits in your stomach like a block of cement.

“It’s-,” Ten huffs into his hands, “let’s go to the station first and the bitch can tell you herself, she’s there apparently. Yuna is too. I don’t want to keep Yuna waiting there alone any longer so let’s go”.

The drive is silent, save the rumbling of the pavement below the car’s tires. Mark’s hand grips yours like a vice, but you don’t say anything. In fact, it kind of keeps you grounded as your anxiety goes through the roof. You’re no Sherlock, but hearing news that a girl who’s obsessed with your boyfriend (as has been sending you hate messages for months, no less) tried to kill your best friend, almost succeeding, bodes terribly for you. 

It had stopped raining a while ago and the five of you hurry your way through the fresh puddles dotting the police station lot. 

“Yuna?,” Ten calls out as the glass doors slide open. 

“Here,” a weak reply voices from behind a partition. 

Rushing over, you see that Yuna’s usual perfect composition is instead worn-down: her platinum blonde hair falls limply down her shoulders and her face is gaunt with distress. 

You had just seen her a few hours ago and she was even the one comforting you then. But now it’s your turn as you carefully kneel down beside her chair and pull her instinctively into a hug. 

“Officer, can you please tell us what’s going on?,” Mark stops a nearby woman in uniform. 

“You’re all friends of Ms. Kim?,” she inquires, continuing as a chorus of confirmations fills the room, “Okay, just a second”.

The woman appears visibly tired, probably pulled out of bed at an ungodly hour to cover this shift. Taking a long sip of her coffee, the white curls of steam prance around the air as you itch for answers. Setting the hot beverage down on the desk beside her, she straightens her badge. ‘Detective Jeong’, it reads.

“We have a confession,” Jeong relays finally, “earlier today- or yesterday, I should say- we received a call from our traffic security team detailing that they spotted the same model of car as the one thought to be involved with the accident on September 15th the uh-,” she stops to check her clipboard, “black 2018 Audi A4. We issued a warrant to interrogate the driver as quickly as possible, although not much was needed since the perpetrator, Miss Hillary Choi, confessed to the hit and run almost immediately”.

You hug Yuna tighter, Ten embracing from her other side. 

“You have the confession, did she say why?,” Jeno asks sternly.

“This is where it gets slightly more complicated and I want to ask, is a Miss y/n here?”.

The mention of your name makes you perk up, surprised. 

“That’s me,” you stand up slowly, “why?”.

Mark places a hand at the small of your back in concern. 

“y/n…,” Yuna sobs softly, gripping your arm. A thousand thoughts run through your head as your struggle to understand what is happening. 

“Yes?,” you brush the fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

“I want her to say it,” Yuna directs, speaking to the detective now. 

“Now we do have Miss Choi in our custody right now, but you’ll have to move back into the interrogation room if you wish to speak with her, for safety reasons”.

You nod, helping Yuna onto her crutches as everyone moves towards the back of the station. It feels as if you’re dreaming, that reality has separated itself into a different plane than the one you’re in and your existence has become but a construct. Your legs move on autopilot while your eyes are fixed ahead, but not really looking at anything in particular. 

The room you enter is dark and stuffy. Even with Haechan and Jeno opting to wait outside, it is far too crowded for the four of you. The room is divided into two; the other side is fully visible but unreachable due to a large plexiglass window in between. It’s eerily isolating. Yuna is ushered onto the only fold-up chair on your side of the room.

As the late-night officers go to bring Hillary in, the apprehension in the air is thick enough to be spread on your breakfast toast. The only comfort that comes to you is Mark’s arms wrapped around your waist. It’s the only thing that you can make sense of right now.

The door on the opposite side slams open suddenly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. Mark’s fingers curl protectively into your hoodie as Hillary enters.

It’s surreal. This woman - handcuffs and all - carries a plain, calm expression as she sits down casually in her own fold-up chair. You hadn’t seen her in a while, but her beady-eyed gaze is as intense as ever. The red streaks in her hair are outgrown, falling awkwardly around the bright orange of her jumpsuit. 

“What’s up?,” Hillary asks, tone cool as if she were not being held for attempted murder at the moment. Her dark eyes settle on you, the arms around your waist, then back to you. Hillary’s stoic face is unreadable, yet it sends chills down your spine like a thousand spiders.

“What’s up? You absolute psycho bitch-,” Ten rails, banging on the glass barrier with a clenched fist. He pulls back as the officer gives him a warning. Yuna pulls him back to calm him down.

Your eyes don’t leave hers. They’re a dark brown, almost black, and you find yourself sinking into them - pulled into them like they’re black holes of concentrated hatred.

Closing your eyes, you pull your mind back to yourself. 

For months on end, you’ve been the recipient of her constant torment. It not only affected your mental health, but almost cost you the relationship of a lifetime. This whole time, you’ve been afraid of her words, letting them eat away at your dignity from inside out until you were nearly gone. 

But if you had the weapon of confidence - if you had simply chosen to stand up and reply, to say ‘no, you’re wrong’, her arrows would have fallen limp to the ground and she couldn’t have hurt you. Hurt your friend.

You open your eyes, this time staring back hard. Hillary’s expression is unfazed, but you imagine she’s surprised at your change in mentality.

“Tell me everything,” you demand firmly. 

Hillary scoffs, as if the situation is amusing. 

“Fuck you, tell us everything,” Ten hisses.

Hillary rolls her eyes. “Fine. Only because she wouldn’t want me to be mean to you, Ten”. 

“Who?,” you ask rigidly.

“I’ll get to that, bitch,” she sneers.

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Mark warns.

The psychopath in orange laughs maniacally, though you can’t place your finger on what she finds funny. 

“Funny,” she gasps for breath, slapping her knees vigorously, “funny how now you talk to me!”. 

“She’s nuts,” Yuna states.

“The whole damn Planters factory,” you agree.

“You people wouldn’t know a thing!,” Hillary fires, pointing an accusing finger around the room. Her face is red from her laughing fit, almost as red as her disgruntled bangs. Eyes now glistening with rage, you press back into Mark’s embrace when her personality flips 180 degrees in under a second. “You don’t know anything!,” she screams, “You don’t know! You don’t know!”.

The four of you watch in shock as Hillary melts down, the guard coming up and restraining her to the chair. She’s thrashing around, chanting the phrase over and over again.

“You’ll never know how much I love you, Mark,” Hillary shrieks, smiling hauntingly as she’s forced back into the chair and cuffed to it, “and you’ll never know how much she loves you, Ten”. 

“What the fuck?,” Ten rightfully shouts.

“Tell us who!,” you raise your voice. 

“I’m getting there, b-,” she stops in the middle of the slur, glancing at your boyfriend. In the blink of an eye, her expression jumps from pure disdain to sickly sweet, “baby”. 

Anger flushes through your body. Wanting to provoke her a little, you turn your gaze to your boyfriend. Predictably, he immediately turns his full attention to you. A scrunch of his brow asks you if you’re okay. 

“Did you enjoy them?,” Hillary’s voice is ‘normal’ again as she asks the out-of-context question.

“What?,” Ten pries, unamused.

“Did you,” she points her finger directly at you, “enjoy my messages?”.

Oh boy, oh boy. I was waiting for you to ask that.

The words rush to your mouth, every comeback you’ve ever made manifesting into the pinnacle of all comebacks, “As a matter of fact, I did,” you smile brightly, “I especially enjoyed the one’s where you said Mark doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me. I like to think of the irony of it all when we’re sleeping together and he gives me these”. 

You tug down the collar of your hoodie (that’s actually his which makes it even better) to reveal the hickies blooming down your neck. “If only you could know how good it feels, but you’re undoubtedly alone”.

Yuna snickers beside you, but Mark’s signature laugh shamelessly fills the limited space around you. The mood of the room changes completely at your words, the seriousness dissipating like sugar in hot water. It’s so refreshing, the feeling of being in control of yourself. Hillary, the person you used to be so afraid of looks so small in her isolation. There’s nothing to her at all, now that you know to stand up for yourself. You’ve never felt so… powerful. 

In any other situation, you would have died in embarrassment from sharing personal information like that, but you’re on a roll. And it’s bitch ass Hillary we’re talking about here. Even Ten looks mildly impressed by your new attitude, a tiny smile quirked on his lips.

“You-,” Hillary pouts, “how could you, Mark, how could you do this to me? You and I both know we loved each other first. We still love each other”.

“I have literally no idea what you mean,” Mark emphasizes, moving his hands to grip your shoulders, “you need some serious help, man”.

“I’ll fucking kill you!,” she screams at you again. 

“No you won’t,” you chuckle, “you’re locked up! At this point it’s a little amusing.

“You wanna know what the plan was? Me and Seojung were gonna kill you both. I take the bitch that’s dating Ten and she takes the slut who took Mark from me. I got so close, following you, blondie, to the party, but you just had to live-”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Sick psycho oh my god”

“Yeah good luck doing that from prison, asshole”

The room erupts in replies that cut her off. 

“Alright, time’s up,” the guard announces. The door on your side of the room opens, a gust of cool air welcoming you as Detective Jeong appears to usher you out. Turning around to give Hillary one last word as the officer drags her back to her cell, you’re not surprised to meet her menacing eyes. 

“He loves me,” you state confidently, “and he always will. Enjoy hell”. 

With that, the door shuts behind her and the worst chapter of your life dots its last concluding period. It’s the last one that you’ll let someone else write for you. You’re more than ready to pick up the pen and turn the next page. Excitedly, you head out to your friends waiting on you outside.

“Don’t worry, we’ve monitored that whole conversation and everything will be used against her in court,” Jeong assures, “Miss y/n, you might remember Choi mentioned a ‘Seojung’ and we want to make sure you know that she has been detained and held at the Gangnam Police Station. We’re waiting on her statement, but if what Choi testified is true, we’re looking at life in prison for both parties”.

“Not death?,” Ten scoffs.

“Not death, no,” the detective shakes her head.

“So basically, they’re both insane. And they did all this because they thought Ten and Mark belonged to them,” Haechan follows slowly, having just been filled in.

“We gotta put an end to this fanclub shit. Why are our lives controlled by these freaks,” Jeno groans.

He’s right. He’s so right. The whole thing is disgusting, especially when none of the Lee’s ever asked for it to be formed. If it’s already gotten to the point where members are caught in homicidal attempts, there’s no way the Lovelees club can continue to exist.

The station is nearly empty now, almost all of the officers handling the case calling it a night and heading home. Not wanting to keep Detective Jeong any longer, the six of you head out to the car. It’s nearly four in the morning and the adrenaline is wearing off, exhaustion replacing it.

“Hey but y/n, you were so good in there,” Yuna smiles, bumping you with her shoulder as you walk through the parking lot. The night air is cold against your skin, filled with the scent of petrichor.

“Yeah, you,” Mark looks at you with doe eyes, arm slung around your shoulders.

Letting out a short laugh, you press your lips quickly to his cheek.

“And I’m assuming based on how this looks, the conversation went well?,” Yuna adds.

“Only thanks to you,” you appreciate, turning from your best friend to Mark, “I think we’re all good now”. 

Mark beams at you as Ten unlocks his car, bringing you in for an elated kiss.

Groans erupt from all around. 

“You’ve seriously been going at it all night, none of us have gotten any sleep,” Haechan whines loudly.

“Bruh,” says Jeno.

“Then get yourself a girlfriend, fatass, I don’t know what to say,” Mark retaliates.

You reluctantly pull away as everyone piles into the vehicle. Haechan, you don’t feel bad for. He could cry and pout all day and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Jeno, is a different story. 

Memories of earlier cause your fingers to curl up in cringe; the way he was minding his own business in his own room only to be caught in the middle of your… make-up methods. 

“Hey…,” you apologize as you cram into the seat next to him, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about earlier”.

“I don’t want to talk about it”. The blue-haired boy massages the crease between his brows, stressed. 

“Right okay,” you nod. 

“Not to ruin the mood, but are you okay y/n? I feel like we’re moving too fast past what you’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I mean… I just want to make sure I’m not in the dark about your feelings again,” Mark asks softly.

Silence falls upon the car as the group awaits your answer. You look to the passenger seat, to Yuna, as Ten cruises down the city street. 

“I’ll never forgive her,” you finally admit, “either one of them. They can literally rot in hell for all I care. But for me, I’m okay. If anything, this whole thing has taught me a lot and I’ve grown a lot from it. Both of them are locked up, so I’m not scared anymore. Oddly, I feel really free”. 

Packed into a tiny car, cruising down the streets of Seoul, you admire the friends around you. You’re surrounded by love. Your best friend and the love of her life. Your soulmate and his two best friends (who have become like family to you). Back on campus, Hope and Lisa sleep away, unaware of the chaos of today. You can imagine the looks on their faces as Yuna and you fill them in. Irreplaceable, every one of them. 

Life is full of way too many amazing things for any number of crazy bitches to ruin. Just as your friends have become irreplaceable to you, you are irreplaceable to them too. It’s due time that you give some credit to yourself. 

I am truly confident. I am worthy. I am loved.

previous || m.list || playlist || next

[beccascribbles]

where atsumu is a notorious playboy and now he wants you

a/n - you won't believe how long i've been working on this and it's finally finished... anyway, just wanted to say a quick thank you for 700 followers! it means a lot! hope you enjoy this little atsumu fic

warnings - nsfw (sex, swearing), possibly a little angsty?, toxic relationship

word count - 4.1k

sequel ‘returning the favour’, where atsumu gets a taste of his own medicine

When your friends warned you away from him, you should have known he was bad news, should have known to avoid him, to shut down any conversation and walk away.

When a random girl approached you in the university library and warned you away from him, told you what he had done to her, how he ignored her feelings and hooked up with another girl in front of her, the alarm bells should have started to ring.

When the very thought of introducing him to your parents filled you with dread, you should have known any kind of relationship with him was impossible. Introducing a boyfriend to your parents was nerve-wracking, yes, but you had done it before and the most severe emotion you had felt then was nerves. It was nothing compared to the dread that curled in your belly at the mere thought of ever introducing him.

But Miya Atsumu pulled you in.

Despite all the warnings, you were blinded by his easy charm, the smirk that would pull at the corners of his lips as he teased you, how comfortable he looked in every situation, as if he knew the power he held over those around him. He attracted girls and boys like a moth to a flame. In fact, he burned so brightly it was inevitable that you would get hurt at some point, feel his scathing dismal like a punch to the chest.

Truthfully, you were not planning on falling for him, not even planning to interact with the new face in your lectures. He had attracted enough attention, and you, the ever focused and diligent student, could not afford the distraction. So, while others flocked to him, you initially kept a wide berth, hurrying from lectures with your books clutched to your chest to grab at seat at the library. It would be a lie to say he had not noticed you through the crowds. You were either the first to leave the lecture hall, or one of the only students to approach the professor after class to ask questions and gather some more information about the subject. He admired the dedication you had, your unwavering focus. At the same time, he wanted to be the reason that focus, that dedication, finally broke.

On the day he finally approached you, the weather had been unpleasant. Rain had attacked you the entire walk to class, the raincoat you had on a flimsy barrier. Coupled with the harsh wind that had been blowing, it was nearly impossible for the hood of your coat to cover your head, leaving you with the look of a drowned rat and a very disgruntled one at that. The rain had soaked through your backpack, leaving you with a dripping notebook. You had to be thankful that you had transferred all the sheets of paper you had written on into a binder that had kept the paper mercifully dry. So, as you had sought out a radiator to dry your things on, he had approached you, looking effortlessly handsome... and dry. 

“Want to borrow some paper, sweetheart?” he asked, waving his dry notebook at you, his lips upturned in a grin. His stance was casual, but the way he angled his body blocked the class from your view and also cut off your potential escape route. Though the vocative grated at you, your parents had taught you to be polite. Despite the annoyance in the lines of your body, you managed to smile back at him.

“Actually, yes,” you replied, turning back to the radiator to begin draping your wet items on the heated surface. “That would be great. Thank you.”

With your back to him, you missed the way his mouth twisted into a smirk, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. You heard the rip of paper being pulled from a notebook, then felt his warm fingers circle your wrist. You turned to face him, momentarily stunned by the lack of distance between you. His warmth, coupled with the radiator at your back, heated up your body, dispelling the cold bite the rain had left behind.

“And your payment?”he questioned running the tip of his finger along your inner wrist. The feel of his rough skin tracing the soft surface sent a tingle running through you, a traitorous flare of heat to your cheeks.

“Payment?” you scoffed, reaching for the proffered paper. He released it without a struggle, but remained close to you. It would have been so simple to trace the planes of your face, to feel the heat on your cheeks build because of his touch. Instead, he sent a lazy smirk in your direction. It should have irked you, but you found it oddly attractive, the little quirk to his lips, the intensity in has honey brown gaze. “For some paper?”

“Nothing is free these days,” he stated, reaching behind him to pull his phone from his back pocket. It dangled nonchalantly from his grip as he held it out to you. You glanced at the phone, then up at him, at his lazy expression. The way he looked at you showed he tended to get his way. There was no possibility in his mind where you returned to your seat without typing his number into your phone. “Give me your number and I’ll message you when I want to collect. I'm sure you'll enjoy it just as much as me.”

He pressed the phone into your hand. It was already unlocked and opened on a contact page. Instead of immediately typing your contact information into his phone like he assumed you would, you glanced down at the phone screen and then up at him. "Sorry, but my phone number comes at a cost as well."

He let out a low hum, leaning in closer, close enough that your noses almost touched. His eyes stared into yours, appearing to commit the colour to memory. "And what cost is that?"

“If you let me return to my seat, you might find out,” you stated, peeking over his shoulder to see that the professor was powering up the slide show. You pushed against his shoulder, creating enough space for you to walk past. As you stepped around him, you slipped his phone into his trouser pocket. He turned to watch you walk away, the smirk still present on his face.

The next time he approached you, he had orchestrated it with an obsessive perfection. With the knowledge that you always rushed to the library after class finished, he had instructed a member of the class, one of his fangirls, to deliberately bump into you as you tried to make your exit. It was amusing in a sick way how easily the girl had bent to his will. One kiss and she was weak at the knees, begging him for more. The more he had promised would be done once she completed this small task for him.

So, it was with an almost sadistic smirk on his face that he watched as the girl shouldered into you roughly, causing you to stumble and scatter your belongings across the floor. If you had only got into the habit of packing your stuff away into your backpack before leaving, you could have avoided the smirking blonde, able to quickly right yourself and continue on your way. As fate would have it, it was the muscular arms of the blonde that steadied you, his fingers gripping greedily at your waist. Offering him a quick thank you, you pulled yourself from his grip, bending down to gather the items you had dropped. Just as he had planned, you were distracted and desperate to leave, so distracted you did not notice as he took your notebook from the floor and slipped it into the open bag hanging from his shoulder. And, like he presumed, you hurried from the room without sparing him a glance. 

When he decided to ambush you, you were digging through your bag, mumbling quietly under your breath as you attempted to find your notebook. It had all your class notes in it that you needed to begin your essay. Letting out a huff, you shoved your bag away from you.

"Looking for this?" asked Atsumu, notebook dangling from his fingertips as he took in your distressed form. Leaning forward, you pulled it from his grip, flicking through the pages to confirm that this was indeed your notebook.

"Where did you find it?" you asked, placing it down on the table and resting your arms on top of it as you looked up at him.

"Is that any way to thank the person who returned your class notes?"

You gave him an exaggerated, friendly smile. "Thank you. Now where did you find it?"

"The floor," he stated, a smirk tugging at his lips with his next words. "After your fall, that's where all your belongings ended up."

"I know," you snapped before turning back to the work you had been in the process of beginning. Atsumu's tall figure still loomed over the desk, his hands gripping at the edge of the table as he leaned forward to force himself into your line of sight. Your eyes narrowed into a glare. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I want to take you out." The words were simple, but said in such a pleasing honeyed tone that you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. He held your gaze, awaited your reply eagerly. He knew the effect he had on you, could see it working on you right before his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that you would say yes.

"Take me out where?" you questioned, voice coming out whisper. Your warm breath fanned against his face, made him crave a sudden closing of space between you and the parting of your lips as he pressed his against them. Truth be told, he wanted to see you come undone.

His usual method would not work on you, that much he was certain of. If he proposed a club or a bar, you would likely scoff, pull away from him, refuse his offer to take you out on a date. A restaurant however, one with a fine wine menu coupled with good food would work quite well.

"A restaurant," he said. You raised an eyebrow at his lacklustre response, expecting a more surprising proposal from the young man. "One where I can fine dine and wine the shit out of you."

“Okay,” you shrugged, feigning some level of disinterest as you pushed him lightly by the shoulder to move him out of your personal bubble. You bent to reach for a pen as you spoke. “Tell me a time and place, and I’ll meet you there.”

Atsumu blinked, unsure if he had heard you correctly. Had you just said you wanted to meet at the restaurant? That would be difficult considering he had yet to decide on one, having made a mental note to ask Osamu for recommendations later on. Trying to hide his sudden unease, he gave you a smooth grin. “Why don’t you let me pick you up, sweetheart?”

That caused you to pause, your breath to catch in your throat, your heart to stutter. The way he spoke, that soft drawl, the smooth dulcet tone of voice, made you weak at the knees. If he addressed you with the same tone each time he spoke, you would have been putty in his hands by now. You swallowed, avoiding eye contact as you tapped your pen on the table, the motion more to soothe you, though it aggravated the others in the library to no end. “Fine.”

You ripped a page from your notebook, hurriedly scribbling down your address. You held out the paper to him, finally meeting his eyes again. “When were you thinking?”

“Friday at 8?”

“Sure,” you nodded. “See you then.”

And, that Friday, you found yourself holding up various outfits to yourself in the mirror only to discard them a moment later. They were never perfect, either too sultry or too innocent, too girly or too geared towards comfort. It was so dire you had reached the point of wishing that you had ordered those dresses you had browsed after agreeing to meet with him. Next day delivery would have meant they would have arrived on time, and you would have felt confident in them. However, you had talked yourself out of it, convincing yourself you had dresses worthy of a dinner with Atsumu. With a sigh, you picked up a dress you had discarded earlier. It was the best out of a bad bunch, and unfortunately the only one you thought you could get away with. Distantly, you wondered why you were trying so hard. That was just you trying to convince yourself you didn’t care. It would be foolish to lie to yourself. You cared because you were attracted to him, to his easy charm, his good looks.

Glancing in the mirror one more time, you smoothed down the material of the dress. It complimented you well, was a trusted favourite. It hugged your body in all the right ways, emphasising your shape in a way that was pleasing to the eye. You allowed yourself a small smile. You felt confident. It was a bonus that you figured Atsumu would enjoy the view.

Hearing the knock on your door, you grabbed your bag from the desk, checking it had everything you needed. Phone, keys and purse were all present inside. Then you went over to open the door. Framed by the dark word, dressed in a dark shirt and black jeans, Atsumu looked hot. His hair had been perfectly styled, a far cry from the messier style he favoured at university. His eyes ran up and down your body, lazily, as if he was stripping you with his eyes. He drawled, “Well, don’t you clean up nice. Makes me want to stay in instead of taking you out."

You gave him a playful glare, pushing against his chest lightly. He stepped backwards, you following him into the hallway. Turning away from him, you faced the door, locking it. Over your shoulder, you quipped, "If you think this date is ending in sex, you are very much mistaken."

Little did you know how wrong your statement was. You could blame it on the buzz of alcohol in your system from the wine but, to be honest, you were weak to Atsumu's charm. The way he purred your name had you weak. The feel of his fingers grazing your bare skin made you shiver. The feel of his lips moving languidly against your own sent jolts of pleasure through you.

"I'm going to ruin you," he breathed, breath hot against your ear as he nipped gently at the lobe, fingers teasing at the hem of your dress, slipping under the material. Those words, along with his actions, were your undoing.

Your hands tangled into his hair, gently tugging as you reconnected your lips, the kiss far more passionate, a bit more messy. It was easy for him to push you onto the bed, for you to instinctively hook your legs around his waist, holding him close to you. A low moan escaped your lips as he rolled his hips into you, feeling the hardness of his cock through the layers. Your dress was hiked up past your hips, the lace of your panties on full display. He pulled away to admire you, unhooking your legs from around his waist, spreading them open for him to admire the view. He let out an appreciative whistle. "Look at you. So desperate for me, sweetheart. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock filling you up?"

You let out a soft moan. Your cheeks were flushed, breathing slightly laboured as you looked up at him. You were desperate for him. He could see all this, watched with smug satisfaction as your hand slipped into your wet panties and you began to play with yourself. "Why don't you take those off for me?"

Too lost in your need, you began to slip the fabric down your legs, slowly, teasingly. Atsumu watched with a playful glint in his eyes, hand moving to palm at his cock through his trousers. Not needing him to direct you, with the lace no longer blocking his view, you resumed your previous action, fingers circling your clit. As he watched, you pushed a finger into your wet entrance, watching as his eyes darkened. While you continued to pleasure yourself, he slipped his trousers off, then began to teasingly lower his boxes, watching your reaction. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of his hardened cock, slit wet with pre-cum. With you watching, he wrapped his fists around it, beginning to stroke it. His head tilted back and a low groan escaped his throat. You moaned in response, inserting another finger inside, stretching yourself out for him.

"Fuck, y/n," he moaned. "Are you ready? Do you want my cock inside of you? Do you want to feel me thrusting into you? Because I want to feel you clench around me, for you to cum as I fuck you."

"Yes," you breathed, thumb rubbing harshly against your clit as you continued to push your fingers inside you harder, faster. "Please fuck me."

"Get on your hands and knees then, sweetheart," he commanded, watching as you removed your fingers from inside of you. And what a sight you were, back curved to provide him with the best view. He ran his hands appreciatively along the slope of your ass cheeks, giving them a playful slap. He leant over you, fingers finding the zip of your dress, his cock brushing against you. Now wasn't the time to tease you. He yanked the zipper down, the dress falling off your body, leaving you naked apart from your bra.

"Please just fuck me," you begged, pushing back against him as his fingers brushed the tops of your erect nipples hidden by your bra.

"So impatient," he said, voice low, a gruff edge to it that made you suck in a breath. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Teasingly, he waited, his cock head resting against your wet entrance. Each time you pushed back, he would pull slightly away, leaving you a whining mess. Just as you were about to beg, he pushed into you, his cock brushing against your inner walls as he slowly entered you. With a low groan, he sheathed himself fully inside you, his pelvis pressed against you.

Slowly at first, he began to rock into you, pulling out slightly before thrusting back in, working your pussy, getting you used to taking his cock. Each slow thrust caused you to moan, fingers clutching at the duvet.

"More," you whined, hips pushing back into him. He stilled, holding you close to him. You moved along his cock, grinding back against him as his hands tightened on you, stilling your movements.

"What was that?" he questioned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck. "You want me to fuck you into the mattress, is that it?"

"Yes," you declared, voice breathy as you let yourself droop forward, head resting against the soft material of the duvet. He pulled fully out of you, hand curling in the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling you upwards. Your back was flush against his chest, his other arm wrapped around you, fingers teasing at your clit as he thrust upwards into you again.

The sudden harsh thrust caused you to choke, head lolling against his shoulder. You were weak to him as he continued to thrust into you, losing yourself in the feeling of pleasure. The stimulation of your clit, coupled with the harsh thrusting, had you chasing your orgasm far sooner than you had expected, the pleasure slowly building up, a dam waiting to explode.

"Shit," you gasped as he pushed you forward onto the mattress, the position allowing him to push into you with more ease, the slap of his hips against your ass and your laboured breathing the only sound in the room. "Atsumu... I-I think I'm going to cum."

"Don't hold back," he grunted, feeling himself drawing closer. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Want to feel your walls fluttering around my cock."

"A-Atsumu."

His name was the only word able to escape your lips as a wave of pleasure hit you, finally sending you over the edge. He let out a pleased hum at the feel of your walls clenching around him, continuing to thrust into you as he chased his own release. He came with a low groan, releasing his hot seed into you, coating your walls. Slowly, he rocked gently into you before pulling out his slowly softening cock. You let out a low whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, turning to face him with a small pout. He let out a soft chuckle, grabbing you by the chin and pulling you in for a long kiss, tongue tracing the inside of your mouth. Against your lips, he said, "I'm always up for round two."

You should have know one night wouldn't be enough to satiate your hunger for each other. Despite only having a sexual relationship, the two of you formed a friendship, if constant sexual teasing could be considered friendship. In the library, in class. Atsumu was insistent, his hands rarely kept to himself when he could so easily slip them into your warm panties. Occasionally, you would return the favour, palming him through his jeans. On a day when you had been feeling particularly adventurous, you had sucked him off in the library, relishing in the soft moans he would release, the way his hips would buck upwards as he attempted to push you down onto his cock further.

One day, he had turned to you, a completely innocent look on his face and stated, "You're the only girl I ever fuck now."

You had looked at him blankly as he had pulled you towards him, placing you on his lap, urging you to straddle him. His hands rested against the bare skin of your sides. "And?"

"I'd say we're pretty much exclusive."

Those words gave you some indication of where his train of thought was heading. Though you couldn't deny wanting to be in a relationship with him, you could hardly define what you did now as dating. You felt he was just using you and that had been the truth for as long as he had begun pursuing you.

"We're not even dating, Atsumu," you sighed. Just last week, he had gone on a date with another girl only to arrive at your dorm at the end of the night to fuck you instead of her.

"Why don't we change that?" he hummed, placing kisses along your jaw before connecting your lips in a searing kiss. His thumbs brushed against your rib cage as he kissed you harder. He was close enough to feel the way your heart picked up the pace, hammering against your chest. You pulled away slightly to look at him, to see the sincerity in his brown eyes.

"Okay," you agreed. "Let's change that."

Years later, you would look back on certain moments in your relationship with nothing but anger, mainly at yourself. The signs were clear from the moment you became official. Atsumu was a person who refused to be tied down. As soon as your relationship was defined, he lost interest, pulling away from you, treating you as nothing more than a means for pleasure. But, through it all, you still felt love for him, needing to be the thing that brought him that pleasure. That illusion shattered the moment you saw him with another girl, her legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her with the passion he used to kiss you.

Though the illusion shattered, the desire for him did not. You would still open your door for him, still let him use you as you told yourself you were using him. You accepted the empty 'I love you' he would whisper as you fell asleep only to wake up to an empty bed.

You were a fool. But he must have known that. After all, only a fool could ever love him like you did.

[hacawijo]

Alright, If We’re Gonna Play with Az’s Bonus Chapter, Let’s PLAY with Az’s Bonus Chapter (Pt. 2)

Yeah baby, part 2 of a PAINSTAKING close read lol.

Azriel winnowed into shadows before she could say anything he uses the shadows to ESCAPE, they are a coping mechanism, appearing at the door to Rhys’s study a heartbeat later. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain had gone upstairs. It’s interesting that the shadows specifically report on Elain’s whereabouts here and not earlier, as well as later not reporting on Gwyn.

Rhys sat at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. He asked softly, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father’s dungeon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhys’s power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. “I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled. “Including her mate.” It is not out of line for Rhys to acknowledge that this was stupid. If for no other reason than that it would hurt Lucien if he saw/felt them.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. Which is the mirror to something that Rhys notes in ACOFAS, that they are similar in their darkness. Because Rhys is really the only person Azriel can be himself with, completely, I think it’s important to acknowledge that this is unprecedented ground for them and specifically for Azriel. This is the first time Azriel can actually voice ANY of these thoughts out loud, and only because Rhys saw them, he did not bring this concern to Rhys himself. “What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?” Also very not out of line thing to ask. Feyre is the only person Mor has really told about her sexuality, and so to Rhys and co. AND Azriel, nothing about this situation has changed in the past 500 years. The fact that Azriel is able to get over Mor, without that confirmation of her sexuality, because of Elain, is significant I think.

Azriel ignored the question. Hmm yeah, but he can’t keep ignoring this question forever, and that’s another reason he and Elain did NOT kiss in this chapter. He and his family and Mor all need closure regarding their relationship. “The Cauldron chose three sisters. Oh boy, I have a lot to say about the number three later on! Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” He had never before dared speak the words out loud. NEVER BEFORE DARED TO SPEAK THE WORDS OUT LOUD. This is the first time he’s even verbalizing these thoughts - of COURSE he doesn’t know how to navigate this conversation. This is raw emotion being spewed out right now, enhanced by the unresolved tension from his interaction with Elain.

Rhys’s face drained of color. “You believe you deserve to be her mate?” So, he says that his two brothers ARE WITH two of those sisters, which is a way to acknowledge the fact that both people in each pair accepted the bond and that it was a mutually built connection. Then he says “the third was given to another” which is actually really different. He’s saying that Elain was given to Lucien by the Cauldron, suddenly one member of that bond is not an active participant - and this is mostly true! Elain has ignored Lucien diligently, and she hinted about her lack of feelings for him when she asked Feyre why he should be entitled to her affections just because of the cauldron and whatever amends he has made. I don’t like Azriel saying that Elain is something to be given as opposed to a person to be connected to, but I’m not sure exactly what it means that he did that. ANYWAY, Rhys really does supply the word deserve, and we have evidence from earlier in this chapter that essentially proves that Azriel does not believe he deserves Elain, anyway. He is having an argument with Rhys, yes, but it almost feels like he’s arguing with himself.

Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him anyway.” (THE ONLY TIME ELAIN’S ACTUAL FEELINGS, ACTIONS ARE CONSIDERED IN THIS DISCUSSION BTW) Also, not that he doesn’t answer Rhys’s question. For Azriel, this isn’t necessarily about what HE deserves in this moment, it’s about what Elain wants. Almost certainly, Azriel DOESN’T believe that he deserves Elain, but he sees the injustice of her being forced to accept a bond with someone for political or spiritual/societal reasons. So while to Rhys it may seem like Azriel is is putting Lucien’s claim down in order to boost his own, I actually think Azriel is trying to distinguish a different issue - Elain’s agency. This same thing happened with Mor and Eris. ABSOLUTELY THIS IS NOT ALL LIKE THAT SITUATION BECAUSE LUCIEN IS NOT ERIS!!! I am not trying to compare their behavior. BUT, Azriel would have dueled Eris for Mor’s agency regardless of whether or not she chose to be with him.

“So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” Rhys, I think, misinterpreting Azriel and it’s mostly not Rhys’s fault. Azriel doesn’t communicate well and is not currently communicating well. That being said, I wish he would give Azriel more benefit of the doubt.

Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t got that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. HE HADN’T PLANNED ANYTHING, this whole conversation is just like a raw nerve.

Rhys growled, “Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.” Well come on, now, Rhys, what if she doesn’t want to stay away from him? BE A FEMINIST RHYS, just add, “unless she wants to see you”!

ALSO, DID RHYS TELL FEYRE ABOUT THIS? MY MONEY IS ON NO, AND IF RHYS DIDN’T TELL HER ITS BECAUSE HE KNOWS HE’S NOT WHOLLY DOING THE RIGHT THING BY ELAIN.

“You can’t order me to do that.”

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” Another really big sign that this is going to play out Elriel style is the mentioning of the Blood Duel. Chekhov’s gun eh?

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to to invoke it when he’d found Mor all those years ago. Had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris to Blood Duels and kill them both. Yes see? He would have done this regardless of Mor’s feelings toward him. Only Mor’s right to claim their heads in vengeance had kept him from doing so.

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you.” But hey fun fact Rhys knows that Lucien is almost CERTAINLY not Beron’s son. Interesting to consider in context.

“I’ll defeat him with little effort.” Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. Again, Azriel is dodging Rhys’s points and is honestly being pretty immature right now, but he hasn’t actually said ANYTHING about an intention to pursue Elain with any of this. Rhys has filled in the blanks, and Azriel has responded to smaller aspects of Rhys’s macro-points with which he finds fault. I think this is also because he knows Rhys is right about a lot of the realities of the situation, but he is in the mood to be contrary right now, so he’s fighting back where he can stomach it.

“I know.” Rhys’s eyes flickered. “And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but Also with the Spring Court and Jurian and Vassa.” Rhys bared his teeth. Rhys’s motivations are based entirely on things that have nothing to do with Elain’s feelings, which is sad. But, they’re not insignificant considerations. Though come on dude you did pretty much enable Hybern’s arrival to Prythian by alienating The Spring Court with Feyre’s escape.“So you will leave Elain alone. YES, ALONE, because Elain probably is PRETTY FREAKIN LONELY If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” Low. Blow.

Azriel snarled softly.

“Snarl all you want.” Rhys leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.” I do think this is a really ungenerous description of what was happening downstairs with Elain. Their interaction was careful and consensual, we have painstaking detail to prove that, and it was far from panting/animalistic in action.

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. This is another person taking ANOTHER choice away from Elain. I think she may find out about Rhys doing this and I personally think she’s gonna be rightfully pissed.

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. “Get out.”

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.

Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all. With Elain, he is SOMETHING. Because he feels things.

Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, Further evidence that Azriel never intended to fight Lucien or make a stink over Elain and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.

He found it occupied. His shadows had not warned him. I am not sure what it means that his shadows didn’t warn him. It could mean that Gwyn is protected from his shadows/immune to them. It could mean that his shadows wanted him to go see Gwyn - either out of a desire for Azriel to find some peace with her or out of curiosity as to who/what she is?

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.

She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. “I’m sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn’t think anyone would mind if I came up here and—“

“It’s fine. I came here to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. They are… wary of her? They’re shy around her?

The young priestess smiled — and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. “I was trying to cut the ribbon.” She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver. Some interesting language here and above (glimmering, glow etc.) to do with light, and again a juxtaposition between light and dark. But not a golden light, a colder/silver light.

“Aren’t you cold?” His breath clouded in front of him.

Gwyn shrugged. “Once you get moving, you stop noticing it.”

He nodded, silence falling. For a heartbeat, their gazes met. Gaze is definitely a romantically charged word, this is one of the tiny details that makes me unsure about the future nature of their relationship. He blocked out the bloody memory that flashed, so at odds with the Gwyn he saw before him now. I definitely do not think they are mates. I’m not closing the door on them being romantically involved, I don’t have enough evidence to do that, but I really think that if they were mates, Azriel would have known when he saw her at Sangravah.

Her head ducked, as if remembering it too. That he’d been the one who’d found her that day at Sangravah. Shades of Cassian’s reactions to Emerie’s wings having been clipped, in ACOFAS. “Happy Solstice,” she said, as much a dismissal as it was a holiday blessing.

He snorted. “Are you kicking me out?”

Gwyn’s teal eyes I have a lot to say about these teal eyes :) flashed with alarm. “No! I mean, I don’t mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone.” Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. “Is that why you came up here?” I’ll talk more about this later, but there are a few small moments in the book where it seems like Gwyn might have a crush on Azriel, or some kind of special awareness/interest where he is concerned. I have seen almost no evidence that Az returns those potential feelings, except PERHAPS for the moment where he hears her screech and pays attention. But I think anyone would pay attention if someone screeched? Also he watches reverently as she cuts the ribbon, but that also feels like it would happen regardless of any romantic feelings he might have. But I don’t know for sure!

Sort of. “I forgot something.”

“At two in the morning?”

Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he’d spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. He cares that she not be feeling pain and grief, as he does with anyone he deems good, and that is part of why he offers her the smile, as he clearly says right here. “I can’t sleep without my favorite dagger.”

“A comfort to every growing child.”

Azriel’s lips twitched. I think her irreverence matches his sense of humor quite well. He refrained from mentioning that he did indeed sleep with a dagger. Many daggers. Including one under his pillow.

“How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. This shadow is acting totally independent of him. She’s asking a simple question of Azriel at the moment, and he CAN’T hear the music he believes that shadow might be dancing to. Lightsinger evidence, I’d say.

“Fine,” he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn’t a socially acceptable answer. “It was nice.” LOL I will say here that Azriel has to make a lot of conscious effort in this interaction. He makes himself respond in a specific way, which is not language that was used to describe his interactions with Elain earlier in the chapter. This could totally just be because he doesn’t know Gwyn that well, and certainly that’s a big part of it, but I think there’s something to be said for the fact that he is still filtering himself here with Gwyn in the quiet.

Not much better. So he asked, “Did you can the priestesses have a celebration?”

“Yes, though the service was the main highlight.”

“I see.” LOL

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. More glowing-type stuff “Do you sing?” I love Gwyn.

He blinked. It wasn’t everyday that people took him by surprise, but... which is great! Elain surprises him with the headache medicine in ACOFAS, Feyre surprises him with her intuition and tenderness throughout. I think this indicates that they will have a significant relationship regardless of its exact nature. “Why do you ask?”

“They call you shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?”

“I am a shadowsinger— it’s not a title that someone just made up.” It’s super-duper interesting that they actually discuss the fact that he’s a shadowsinger. When Feyre meets Azriel, she is curious, but specifically doesn’t ask follow-up questions or for expansion on the ability. Why specifically remind us here that Azriel is a shadowsinger and that Gwyn sings? If not to foreshadow something related to the ability and Gwyn?

She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. “Do you though?” She pressed. “Sing?”

Azriel couldn’t help his soft chuckle. “Yes.” I love Gwyn. She is the reason I now realize a lot of what I’ve been doing in my life is irreverence :P

She opened her mouth to ask more, but he didn’t feel like explaining. Or demonstrating, since that was surely what she’d ask next. So Az jerked his chin to the sword dangling from her hand. “Try cutting the ribbon again.” I love this so much. Maybe it is romantic, but I think that’s debatable. What’s not debatable is that it’s completely charming.

“What— with you watching?” It’s actually pretty funny that in order to avoid giving a demonstration of something that makes him vulnerable and puts Gwyn in the role of expert he flips it and makes her demonstrate vulnerability while he is the expert. Gwyn might be quite a bit braver than Azriel in some ways.

He nodded.

She considered, and he wondered if she’d say no, but Gwyn blew out a breath, steadied her feet and balance, and sliced. A beautiful, precise blow, but it didn’t sever the ribbon. SEE? Brave. I love Gwyn.

“Again,” he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson. Distraction is a notable word here. Azriel’s thoughts don’t really ever stray from Elain and his turmoil throughout this interaction, that’s what the word distraction tells us.

Gwyn sliced again, but the ribbon remained unyielding.

“You’re turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground,” Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. “Watch.” He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. “You see how you open up right here?” He corrected his position. “Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm.”

Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. “I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.”

Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” I sense a lot of compatibility, just, again, not sure it’s romantic.

Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.”

Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. This is another line that I think offers the most evidence for something significant between Gwyn and Azriel. It’s lovely that she has helped to settle something restless in him with the distraction - and I think it’s important to note that it might not have done the same thing had he encountered Emerie or another trainee on the roof. At the same time, maybe it would have. Also love that his shadows like to watch Gwyn. Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence! This all being said, I can’t really think of an SJM romance that is built around a comfort zone. I can think of many friendships that operate that way, but not so much with the romances. There’s usually nervousness and flutters and passion and… restlessness, somewhere in there.

But— sleep. He needed to at least attempt to get some.

“Happy Solstice,” Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. “Don’t stay out too much longer. You’ll freeze.”

Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. I love Gwyn.

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. This feels VERY much like Lightsinger/Shadowsinger evidence. His shadows, as this chapter has demonstrated time and again, operate independently of him, and they react to Gwyn’s song. I also think it’s possible that Gwyn is sort of always singing, even when she’s not. Like she glows with song on some level, and that’s what his shadows are reacting to - because I don’t think she’d necessarily actually sing while attempting to cut the ribbon.

He slept as well as could be expected which means pretty much not at all y’all — he makes it clear he never expects to sleep well, but when Azriel returned to the River House to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it. Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. How did the necklace get there??? Did Elain really put it there??? Seems like even more evidence that he assumes too much about her understanding of his feelings. Also, though, it seems really rude/OOC for Elain to do that. She gave up very quickly after he gave her a really thoughtful gift. SOMETHING’S FISHY.

But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.

Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening. Important to remember that this is one of the longest nights of the year, which means dusk is coming on later than it was when Nesta attended the evening service weeks/months prior- a service that started almost exactly when seven bells rang the time. It is very well possible that Azriel finds himself at the library as the evening service is happening. The one in which Gwyn sings. If she does have some kind of Lightsinger power in her, it may be that he was lured by that power instead of returning the necklace. Even if they always start at 7, he still arrives exactly at 7. The only point against this surmising that I’ve done is that Clotho led the service which Nesta attended, and yet she is here to greet Azriel. Either I’m wrong and the service is not happening at or around this time, OR the service can take place without Clotho occasionally, and this served the interest of the plot so that Az could speak with someone.

He slid the small box across her desk. “If you see Gwyn, would you give this to her?”

Clotho angled her hooded head, and her enchanted pen wrote on a piece of paper. A Solstice gift from you?

Azriel shrugged. “Don’t tell her it came from me.” Yes, it really doesn’t seem super romantic to re-gift a necklace to Gwyn. It just feels sour, if this is the start of a romance between them.

Why?

“Does she need to know? Just tell her it was a gift from Rhys.”

That would be a lie.

He avoided the urge to cross his arms, not wanting to look intimidating. He blocked out the memory that flashed— of his mother cringing before his father, the male standing with crossed arms in such a way that made his displeasure known before he opened his hateful mouth. This feels very important. We know VERY LITTLE about Azriel’s story, his past, and his family, and so I want to point out ANY and EVERY nugget we get!

“Look I...” Az searched for the words, his voice becoming quiet. “If there’s another priestess here who might appreciate it, give it to them. But I’m not taking that necklace with me when I leave.” I’m not exactly sure what it means that Azriel says this. It could be that he doesn’t want to make a thing of his potential feelings for Gwyn and so tries to deflect with this statement, both to convince Clotho and himself that it’s not about Gwyn. It could also mean that Azriel needed to be rid of the necklace, and wasn’t in the mood to fight with Clotho over an ultimately secondary (to getting rid of the necklace) impulse to give it to someone who provided him comfort and companionship at a time when he needed it.

He waited for Clotho’s pen to finish writing. Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger.

He offered her a grim smile. “I lost the snowball fight today.” HE LOST THE FIRST SNOWBALL FIGHT IN 200 YEARS! And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because Gwyn made him feel better the previous night. I think he lost because he is in anguish over the situation with Elain. Again, I understand that anguish shouldn’t necessarily be a romantic thing, but in SJM’s writing it often is. This is a romance series, angst is a thing, stakes are a thing. It’s not necessarily the most healthy, but it’s also not all-the-way unhealthy. He just feels strongly about Elain and there are a lot of obstacles between him and finding a way to resolve those feelings for good or bad.

I am a counselor for folks who have and are dealt/dealing with sexual, gender-based, and interpersonal violence, and if you want me to do an analysis of all of the relationships in SJM’s writing that aren’t wholly healthy, there won’t be any left over. Except for maybe Sartaq and Nesryn. they really do have their shit together. I suspend a fair amount of my disbelief and professional knowledge in reading these books because I love them and they are fictional :) Also, relationships are complicated. It’s pretty rare for me to work with a client that has a cut-and-dry, black-and-white story.

Now, in my PERSONAL NOT PROFESSIONAL experience, shit is messy, and messiness, even in real life, doesn’t always mean something isn’t worth the strife. Though absolutely abuse and assault are a whole other thing. I think it’s really good to think critically about relationship dynamics in fiction, because it’s a safe place to do great learning and reflection. I also think it’s important to consider that the rules of our reality are not necessarily the rules of the reality being written by an author. Maybe you personally find Azriel’s feelings toward Elain (as they have been expressed so far) are beyond redemption, and are unhealthy to a point where the relationship cannot be salvaged. But that is not realistically a reason that the relationship in question won’t happen. Pretty much any negative/toxic assertions that can be leveled against Elriel based on the VERY SMALL amount of first-person perspective we have in the relationship could be leveled against at least a few of SJM’s other endgame couples. Totally happy to get into this more and provide those examples :)

Clotho was smart enough to see through his deflection. She wrote, I’ll give it to Gwyneth. Tell her a friend left it for her.

He wouldn’t go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but... “Fine. Thank you.” Not sure what this means. Maybe just that it takes Az a while to open up to people and call them friends.

Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring her.

Something sparked in Azriel’s chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn’s teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it. And here we have the most romantic evidence for Az and Gwyn as a couple. Maybe he is falling for her and that’s why he can picture her smile. I really don’t know. I think it could also be that he is happy to be able to make her happy, in recognition of the comfort she gave him the previous evening. Maybe he can picture her because of her potential lightsinger status. Thoughts?

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. The image glowing, again, lightsinger-supporting language.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty. So now he is referring to Gwyn’s smile here. This is interesting, because Gwyn’s smile wouldn’t necessarily be a secret, but perhaps it is if you think of her as being hidden in the library, or that he’ll know about her smile and her receiving the necklace even though she won’t know that he’s the one who gave it to her. Or maybe he’s drop dead in love with her! Another thing that I don’t think is true given his stony attitude post-Solstice (when Gwyn is very much around) and the fact that he doesn’t seem to react viscerally to Gwyn’s kidnapping until Cassian points out that bad things could be happening to both her AND Emerie, as well as Nesta. He knows Gwyn just as well, if not better at this point, as he knew Elain when he reacted to HER kidnapping in ACOWAR. He was very riled, he was the one who noticed she was gone, he vowed almost immediately to go get her, knowing it might mean certain death (to be fair, he seems to have a bit of a death wish, BUT he’s still a pragmatist and doesn’t try to WASTE his life on things - either they’re essential to the court and/or Prythian’s wellbeing or essential to someone for whom he cares deeply.)

[dreaming-twist]

2. WEB

Some random oneshot for TwstOBer ~ Enjoy please xD

“Sebek, you need to find some other hobby. Do you want to try playing with my PC?”

“Human inventions that have nothing to do with magic? Hmpf! Sounds disappointing.”

“Well, well, at least give it a try, okay? It maybe surprises you.”

“... If you say so, Lilia-sama...”

That was how it all began. A simple proposal from Lilia had been his first and until now last contact with that world. And he still didn't know how he had gotten to the point where he was right now.

That day, in Lilia's PC, he found a program on the web that caught his attention. "Pass on your thoughts or knowledge!" It said. Sebek arched an eyebrow, and ended up creating an account outnof curiosuty with the first nickname that came to mind (Best Bolt) until he came across a recording function. Then he realized what this must be.

“I understand. It should be something like a journal, but instead of writing it by hand, you speak directly to it. Interesting invention, not bad for humans...”

And then, after clearing his throat and hitting the 'Record' button, he began to speak.

“... Hello? ... I don't know how this works, but I will try to adapt. This is my first time using one of these... inventions. It's interesting, but... Hm? Wait, why is there a light that is blinking on the side? Okay... I'll try to fix it. I don't know how the recording is turned off...”

Sebek began to investigate what happened to the computer, and in that time he wasn't seeing suddenly the counter of 0 that appeared on the side of the recording screen went up to 1, then to 2, and thus it began to rise. increasingly.

Once he finally fixed it, he returned to his starting position.

“Done. It was not a problem for me. What could I talk about today... Huh?”

As he was thinking, he suddenly saw an alert glow red on the screen, next to a speech bubble. Sebek brought the mouse to it and opened it, finding the words: "You can talk about anything you want."

“I understand. It even gives you suggestions... What a useful program... I'll talk a bit about myself in that case.” Despite this, Sebek decided not to speak the names of anyone he named... for his own sake. He didn't want to be embarrassed later if he listened to his own diary... “Right now I don't live with my family, so to speak. It's not that I get on badly with them at all; I went away to study and to fulfill my duties and my work. So now I'm living somewhere else, surrounded by... ahem, people. However, the ones I am closest to are... the family of a person I have known since childhood.”

He leaned back in the chair.

“One of them treats me almost as if I were his son, and sometimes I think he cares too much about me and pampers me too much. He has taught me so many things, and I feel that every day I learn a little more from him. I respect him a lot... although he sometimes takes advantage of me and plays practical jokes on me. I don't know if he wants me to feel comfortable and enjoy all of this despite being away from my family... or he just wants to play with me. He left me all this... equipment to test it and 'have fun'. Hum. I think once again he was right. His advice is always helpful.”

He made a mental note that he should thank Lilia.

“And then there is... the one who is the only person my age who has always been by my side. He is a very decisive... person, and too calm, I'll say. That is what makes him fail so much in many things. However... he is the person I have been with the most since children, and despite his failures and the fact that we argue so many times... he is very important to me. We do not consider ourselves nor have we called ourselves 'friends' before, rather it is that in addition to being one of the same rank as me, he is my rival and someone I like to continually surpass. I think he may feel the same way.”

For some reason he was saying things that surprised even him. He had never spoken so openly about Silver. How was this happening? Was he so comfortable talking to himself...?

“And there is someone else, who is who I am doing all this for and for whom I strive every day. He is the most incredible being I have ever met. Always correct, with the greatest power I have ever seen, diligent, perfect... It is directly my reason for being, I am SURE of it. I want to become stronger for him and be by his side to serve him whenever he needs me. I'm lucky that someone like him recognized my worth. He is my role model... Although...”

He bit his lip.

“... I think I'm not good enough to help him, protect him, and still be worthy. But I will be. Not because I started showing results later than others am I going to give up. That is something I am not going to do. I want to make the world see that I can become the best in my course... No; the best ever. And prove that he was not wrong with me. It doesn't matter where you come from, whose son you are, or if your power came to light sooner or later... WHAT REALLY MATTERS IS YOUR PASSION, AND STRIVE EVERY DAY TO KEEP WALKING!”

After blurting that out with a big smile and clenched fists, he soon realized that he had lost his composure a bit. He returned to his starting position, clearing his throat.

“... Ahem. For now I feel like I'm on the right track to achieve that goal. The first step is to be the best in my course. Or so I think. The people I... hang out with, from the same course as me are... peculiar. There is one who seems to be pursuing the same goal as me. But he still has a lot left. I notice conviction in his words but I don't see any improvement in his studies. However, he is stronger than I expected at first, and he excels at P.E. There's another... thing who wants to become the best too, but... I'm not even going to talk about him. That one is a lost case. There are two more who instead appear to be quite normal, but one only seems to have an interest in one thing, and the other... honestly, I don't know what to think of him, but he's very strong. And besides the four of them there is a... person who does not seem to want to improve on anything at all. Or rather, he doesn't seem to have an interest in it. But he is not an idiot, rather he seems like one, and I have learned from other sources that when he proposes it to him, he is capable of being the best student in his class. Perhaps he is the most suitable to call him a 'rival' among them. Although as long as he continues to seem so bored of everything that comes his way, there should be no problem... He also shouldn't like me too much. Although he keeps talking to me. He is an interesting guy.”

Sebek then took a breath to talk about the last person he was missing, after talking about Deuce, Grim, Epel, Jack and Ace.

“And lastly there is this… ahem, person, that came along all of a sudden. They doesn't have the capacity to be here, but they somehow got in and we're on the same course. When I learned of their existence, I felt that I had tried very hard to get here, while they had a special ability, although not the one that everyone else possesses, was able to enter without problems. It was unfair. I have ever thought that they were making fun of everyone.” He paused. For some reason, even though he had blurted it out, he didn't feel good about himself... Was that the whole truth...? It was then that he recalled certain moments that he spent with them from then on. “... But they are very clumsy. I feel like I have to be there to hold them if they falls. Studying with them is not unpleasant, they are capable to follow my advice and understand things quickly. I do not dislike those who strive to achieve their goals...”

Another notification appeared on the side of the screen. Sebek stopped speaking, a half smile adorning his face, and looked at the message, taking advantage of the stop in his monologue. Would it be another suggestion from the program...?

“How beautiful is love.”

The boy jumped.

“WHAT?! NO!!” He yelled at the screen, totally flushed. “H-How can a program say these things?! This is a joke?!”

The notifications came out again and Sebek managed to read some.

“Program? What are you talking about man?”

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with you liking someone, I support you!!!”

“Is Story Time over? I was really enjoying listening to you, Best Bolt”

“I have become a fan of yours! Will you talk about more things another day?”

“Your words are very inspiring!♡”

“Best Bolt u r the BEST!”

Sebek began to check the screen, and saw that next to a symbol that represented an eye appeared the number "5000".

5000... eyes?

WERE THERE 5000 PEOPLE LISTENING TO HIM AT THAT TIME ?!

“Hey. Did you listen to Best Bolt the other day on this popular app with podcasts that premier live?” Ace asked, as he ate his burger.

Sebek stopped eating when he heard that.

“No, but I have heard people talk about him to class people. He seemed interesting” Said Epel.

“I had listened to podcasts, but few that talked about personal life... And he spoke so calmly and in such a sincere and focused way... I wish I could do something like that” Deuce commented. Epel smiled at him, he felt the same way.

“I don't know who you're talking about” said Jack confused. (Y/n) and Grim were just like him.

“He cut the recording suddenly the other day, something may have happened to his PC... But hey, if he comes back I'll let you know for sure.”

Sebek ate without saying anything, next to them, who were talking so happily about Best Bolt, until...

“Sebek, youuuu... well, I don't even know why I ask, in Diasomnia you all are very old-fashioned, right? You don't use technology much... except Lilia-senpai.” Ace started to say, looking at him.

Sebek tried to avoid him as best he could.

“HUH?! A-Ah... No, n-no, I don't have interest in that kind of human-made things...”

“Heee... Well, I'll let you know when Best Bolt comes back anyway. Maybe it surprises you.”

“Y-Yes, okay, thank you” He replied, looking away... where he met the watchful gaze of (Y/n), quite close to his face.

“Sebek, are you okay?”

That was the last straw. Sebek quickly rose from his chair.

“PERFECTLY! AND NOW IF YOU ALL EXCUSE ME, I HAVE TO GO SEE HOW THE YOUNG MASTER IS!”

And with that said, the boy ran towards the exit, while everyone else looked at him.

“... Hey now that I think about it, doesn't Best Bolt look a bit like Sebek? That way of speaking, and everything he said...”

“Ha, ha. Good one, Deuce.”

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rogue Thoughts (Spencer Reid x FBI Agent!Reader)

Summary: Soulmates can occasionally hear each other’s thoughts. You happen to hear the thoughts of a fellow FBI Agent while you’re interviewing for a position at the BAU.

Check out the series

Warnings: Some language, but it’s just fluff

Notes: SOULMATE AU MOTHER HECKERS

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

After nearly 30 years of listening to your soulmate’s thoughts, nothing could surprise you at this point. While most of your friends or family heard relatively normal things from their soulmates before they met, your head consisted of random facts about anything from mental illnesses you’d never heard of to Greek philosophy. Once, you had what you learned to be some of Friedmann’s equations stuck in your head for a week. Despite how little you cared for mathematics, your curiosity had given in eventually and you ended up googling it after 3 days. Whoever your soulmate is, he’s an absolute genius. 

Sometimes the thought of just how smart your soulmate is feels a little daunting; You’re not dumb, you have a master’s degree in Criminology and worked for the FBI, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your soulmate would be disappointed when the two of you finally meet. There’s no way of telling which of your thoughts your soulmate had heard from you over the years; maybe he learned about your study of criminals or some of the bad guys you’d managed to catch over the years...or maybe he learned about how you have almost every episode of Friends memorized. Recently, the thoughts you heard have become more frequent. Back when you were a kid, the thoughts you heard could be weeks or even months apart, but as you got older, you heard his thoughts more and more often. Your mom had said that must mean you’re going to meet your soulmate pretty soon; the same thing had happened with her and your father. 

“17 interviews and we still don’t have a replacement…”

The thought entered your head for a moment, but flickered away before it completed. “Don’t distract me today, soulmate. I’ve got a job interview.” You thought. Even though you don’t have any control over which thoughts he would hear, you hoped he had gotten your message. You currently worked in Crimes Against Children with the FBI, but after 4 years excelling in that area, one of the higher-ups, Strauss, had suggested applying for the renowned Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had become a profiler of sorts within CAC; when you were in college you had attended multiple lectures on the subject matter. Even though you weren’t officially trained, your bosses all agreed that you had the potential. Plus, the BAU had been down an agent for a while, so today you were meeting with SSA Hotchner.

When you arrived at the FBI headquarters today, instead of heading to your usual building, you went to the building where the BAU was held. Your nerves were getting the best of you as the elevator slowly made its way to the 6th floor, and to make matters worse, your soulmate’s thoughts were flying through your head at an astronomical rate. “I should book a flight to visit mom soon…” “Maybe we’ll finally get a new agent today....” “if Morgan tries to make me do his paperwork one more time…” Clearly, he hadn’t heard your plea to try and keep it down today. Or, he has just about as much control over which thoughts you heard as you did with his. Despite the foreign thoughts filling your head, you tried your best to stay focused as you exited the elevator and made your way towards Hotchner’s office. 

As you walked through the room, your eyes were pulled from your destination to the various people sitting at the desks. Or, more specifically, to a certain guy filling out paperwork diligently. “Holy fuck, he’s cute.” You thought. Almost immediately, his head snapped up towards you. “Did he…?” “Wow.” You both thought at the same time. This time, you stopped walking, and he pushed away from his desk to get a better look at you. Your interview had almost completely slipped your mind until you heard someone call your name.

“SSA Y/L/N?” You turned away from the guy, who you were now incredibly intrigued by, to the man you recognized as Aaron Hotchner. 

“SSA Hotchner, it’s good to see you again.” You said, giving him a wave. You weren’t a fan of shaking hands, although you were nervous your avoidance of the motion would come off unprofessional. Luckily, Hotchner didn’t seem to mind.

“Please, call me Hotch. My office is just this way, if you’d like to follow me.” Hotch led you to his office, where you took a seat in the chair across from his desk. Luckily, the thoughts from your soulmate - who may or may not be sitting right outside this office - had calmed down, so you had a clear head for your interview.

~~~

“Garcia!” Spencer burst into Garcia’s batcave, shocking the girl. Morgan stood next to her, looking at Spencer like he was insane.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy?”

“I need to know the name of the agent Hotch is interviewing right now.”

“Ok, you could’ve just asked like a normal person instead of giving me a heart attack!” Garcia grumbles, sitting in front of her computer to pull up the information. “Do I at least get a reason as to why you need to know about,” She paused, reading the name that had popped up on her screen, “SSA Y/N Y/L/N?” Spencer leaned down next to Garcia, so he could see the picture of you on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N…” The name felt perfect coming from his lips. It was like he never wanted to say another name again

“Reid? Seriously, what's up with this girl? Do you think she’s bad news?” Morgan asked, clearly concerned about Spencer’s actions

“N-no, I, um, I think she’s my soulmate.” Spencer whispered, not really registering what he had said until Garcia’s excited squeals finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen

“Oh my god this is the best thing that’s ever happened! Are you sure? Oh my god I need to do more research! No wait - if you think she’s your soulmate what are you doing in here with us! You need to be with her and fall in love and get married and name your first born after me like yesterday!” Garcia began rambling, grabbing Spencer’s hand and practically dragging him out of her office and back towards the bullpen. She continued talking as they walked over, while Morgan trailed behind with a wide smile on his face. 

Prentiss and JJ had been chatting at their desks when Garcia dragged Spencer in. “Code Red, ladies! Spencer Reid met his soulmate and she’s with Hotch right now!” Garcia announced, finally letting go of Spencer’s arm. 

“Holy shit!”

“Oh my god, Spence!”

Emily and JJ both gave Spencer a hug, while a blush rose to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know for sure yet. I just, it was like something was pulling me to her. And this time when I heard her thoughts it just felt so…” Spencer was at a loss for words, which was very rare for him. He couldn’t describe this brand new experience.

“Like everything suddenly made sense?” JJ suggested, as the only one in the group who actually knew what the experience of meeting your soulmate was like. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nervously began to play with his hands, turning to look at the door. Through the blinds of Hotch’s office, he could just make out where she was sitting. “Good luck.” He tried to send her the thought, knowing that if they really were soulmates, he should have more control over which thoughts she would hear or not. He may have been imagining it, but he swore she saw her figure get less tense through the blinds.

~~~

“Well, Agent Y/L/N, you’re certainly one of the best candidate’s I’ve interviewed so far. I know you still have an active case to finish with CAC, but once that’s resolved we’d love to have you transfer over here to the BAU.” Hotch said with a small smile.

“Thank you so much, Hotch! My current case is almost wrapped up, so I should be able to officially transfer within the next week or so.” You said with a smile. The both of you stood from your chairs, and Hotch opened his office door for you. Immediately, your eyes found the man again, and you found he was already looking at you. 

“Did you want to meet the rest of the team? Clearly, they’ve all decided it’s social hour anyways.” Hotch suggested, clearly not too pleased with the group that was very clearly not doing any work at the moment. He had mentioned that the team didn’t have a case right now, but you were sure there was still plenty of paperwork to get though.

“Yes! Please.” You said, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Even though you did want to be on good terms with the whole team, right now the only person you cared about was the man in the cardigan.

“Guys, this is SSA Y/N Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here at the BAU soon. Y/L/N, this is SSAs Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid. Penelope Garcia is our technical analyst, and SSA David Rossi should be around here somewhere-” 

Hotch was practically cut off by Penelope, who immediately pulled you in for a hug. You did your best to hide your discomfort, but you had always been a bit of a germaphobe.“Oh my God it’s so lovely to meet you, we’re all so excited for you to join our little family…” Penelope began to ramble as she pulled away from the hug, which you found endearing. 

“Is she like this all the time?” You thought. 

“Yes. You’ll get used to it.” Your eyes immediately move to Spencer’s. Dr. Spencer Reid.

“I’m sure I will. Don’t know if I’ll get used to talking in our minds though.” You think. You were completely tuned out of the conversation the other Agents had started, now focusing only on Spencer.

“Well, studies show that transitioning to life with a soulmate can be jarring, but not because of discomfort of hearing thoughts. It usually takes couples a long time to learn how to turn it off, which can result in soulmates getting to know each other’s secrets rather quickly. That’s why nearly 38% of soulmates will break up within a few months of starting a relationship, although it should be noted that 87% of those that break up will end up getting back together at some point in their lives.” Spencer’s thoughts began racing, and you suddenly understood all the random facts you had learned from him over the course of your life. As he told you the facts and figures of soulmates breaking up - not the best subject for a pair of soulmates that just met, but you didn’t mind - you noticed that the rest of the team had stopped talking and were now just watching you and Spencer converse in your heads.

“That probably explains why we’re talking with our thoughts instead of out loud. And why your team is staring.” Spencer’s cheeks reddened when he looked away from you and realized you were right.

“Honestly, I forgot they were there. Which is rare for me, I have an eidetic memory.” You laughed aloud at his remark, earning more confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, guys, I guess we got a little...distracted.” You spoke aloud for the first time in a few minutes. Spencer moved closer to you, his hand itching to take yours.

“Oh, please, don’t apologize, I was the same way with Will after we met. I know how overwhelming it can be at first.” Jennifer waved off your worries, and extended a hand towards you, “You can call me JJ, by the way.” 

“Oh, um, I don’t really shake hands, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” You worried once again about coming off as rude, but this remark only made JJ, and the rest of the team laugh.

“Wow, you two really are soulmates, aren’t you.” Derek remarked, swinging his arm over Penelope’s shoulder as he spoke.

“I’m the same way.” Spencer explained to you, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“I’m sure we’ll put that to the test when we’re alone.” You didn’t think it was possible, but Spencer’s face became even more red after your thought entered his own head.

~~~

tagged: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal

[asthmark]

❝ cute ❞ n.yt

synopsis → he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

word count → 3.2k

a/n → on today’s episode of ‘it’s 2 a.m. and i’m writing a fic nobody asked for while the limitless album plays on a loop’ :)))))

you tapped your mechanical pencil against your desk, focusing on the rhythm you were making with it rather than the assignment your teacher had handed out. you directed your attention to ms. lee only to find that she was staring off into space, clutching her ‘world’s best teacher’ mug tightly, as usual. which worked for you. of course, her irresponsible behavior made you worry for the state of the educational system but realistically, you had no intentions of actually working and the longer she spent in her head, the longer you could avoid it. you hated to admit it but the time you spent in her fourth period class was usually wasted.

you shifted your gaze to the red haired boy sitting in front of you. nakamoto yuta. you never talked to yuta. sure, you wanted to hold a real conversation with him at least once because of all the rumors surrounding him and his mysterious nature but your interactions were always limited to asking for pencils and answers—which reminded you.

you tap his shoulder. he jolts and you figure he was taking one of his infamous in-class naps. he slowly turns to face you with his brown eyes that were the same color as the lukewarm coffee sitting in ms. lee’s mug. his eyelids are slightly droopy, only confirming the fact that he had been snoozing.

“is class over?" he asks, his voice slightly raspy.

“in a couple minutes, yeah. but here’s your pencil back,” you say, and you notice he smiles slightly when he takes it from you.

that was new. you figure that you could take advantage of him being in a good mood and keep the conversation alive. “i’m surprised you didn't snap at me for tapping it the entire class.”

his smile widens, shocking you even further. “are you kidding? i’m sure your pencil tapping is music to the ears in comparison to all my snoring.”

“oh, c’mon, it’s cute,” you respond.

he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

the bell rings and you can’t seem to pack your things up fast enough. you can feel the boy’s gaze on you but you avoid making any eye contact. as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and speed walk to the door you realize that maybe you should’ve stuck to keeping your interactions with yuta limited.

when you drop your lunch tray on the table as you take a seat, joy and jinsoul put a pause on their conversation about the obvious affair between mr. son and mrs. jeon to greet you.

“hey girl,” jinsoul says, offering you a smile.

joy waves. “how was your fourth period? it’s history right?”

you nod. “it was pretty uneventful. until the end.”

your friends lean forward. “oh really?” asks joy.

“do you need to vent or something?” jinsoul adds.

you can’t fight back your smile. “what a polite way to ask for gossip. you two are getting better at it, you know.”

they laugh. “well, we try.” your best friends were known for knowing. they were sure to have the scoop in everything that went on around campus and they were quite proud of it.

“well,” you continue. “you guys know yuta right?”

jinsoul squeals at hearing his name. she apologizes once she takes notice of you and joy’s unamused stares. “my bad, i get excited whenever i hear a boy’s name.”

“wait, did you talk to him or something? like full conversation?” joy interjects, trying to get the details (as per usual).

“i’m sure we could’ve talked longer if i hadn’t flirted with him,” you mumble but jinsoul and joy hear you loud and clear. they immediately begin talking over each other. from what you catch jinsoul is proud of you for “making moves” while joy can’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that you actually spoke to the mysterious nakamoto yuta.

“guys, please. keep it down,” you plead. “i blew it, anyway.”

they become silent to ask, “how?” in perfect unison.

“well i said his snoring was cute and he just... didn’t respond after that,” you admit, cringing at the memory.

“you complimented his snoring?” joy asks.

“i was just trying to break the ice,” you sigh, burying your head in your hands waiting to be scolded by your friends for your lack of conversational skills.

“that’s not even that bad!” joy exclaims.

jinsoul nods. “i agree. it’s a little weird but... it’s unique! you probably stand out to him now. and that’s good.”

“but he didn’t even say anything after,” you whine.

“well how would you respond to someone telling you your snoring is cute?” joy interrupts, raising a brow.

it takes a moment for you to respond. “thank them, guess?”

“you gotta remember this is yuta we’re talking about. he isn’t the most expressive person ever,” jinsoul says.

joy agrees. “ever since that sicheng guy left to go back to china he’s kind of closed himself off. they were really close.”

you sigh. “he’s seemed so sad after that. i think he just needs a new friend. i want to be that for him. i mean, i would want someone to do the same for me if you guys suddenly left.”

jinsoul smiles at you, emphatically. “don’t worry, y/n. i have total confidence in you.”

“maybe if i hadn’t been so awkward i would too,” you say, dejectedly.

“well, judging by the way he keeps looking over here i’d say you're fine," joy comments, nonchalantly.

you freeze and stare at her dead in her eyes. “are you being serious right now? he’s looking over here?”

joy simply nods, poking at her salad.

you turn to jinsoul for confirmation. “jin? is she lying?”

jinsoul’s subtly eyes dart from you towards the back of the cafeteria and you see how they light up. “oh my gosh, no. she’s so right. wow, he’s really not hiding it at all.”

“so, your comment about his snoring really worked, huh?” joy teases. “i’m gonna have to start using that. ‘hey johnny, i love the way you snore. it’s so nasally and cute.’ how was that, y/n?”

you play along, chuckling and giving her a thumbs up.

later that day, all the talk of yuta has been forgotten and the three of you move on to focus on studying for the upcoming chemistry test. you find yourselves in your bedroom, taking diligent notes and reading report after report.

“i’m going to jump out the window,” joy announces, dropping her highlighter to massage her temples.

“is that your way of saying you want to stop studying?” you ask, your eyes never leaving your annotated text.

joy nods then dramatically collapses on your bed.

“a little break wouldn't hurt,” jinsoul agrees.

“you guys down for pizza?” you suggest.

“ooh yeah, that actually sounds so good right now,” joy comments from her spot on your bed.

“we had pizza last week!” jinsoul complains as she closes her notebook.

“it’s brain food, jin,” you say, giving her a serious look as you dial the pizza place’s number.

she rolls her eyes. “sure. just get me a slice of pepperoni.”

“i want cheese!” joy exclaims.

“got it,” you say, placing your phone on your ear. after two rings and a half they finally pick up.

“hello, may i take your order?”

“can i get a large pizza? one half pepperoni and the other half cheese.”

for some reason, the pair sitting on your bed has begun to giggle and you shoot them a glare, signaling for them to pipe down. but they don’t seem to care and their laughter only intensifies as jinsoul scribbles something onto a piece of paper.

“drinks?” the worker on the other line says.

“a, uh, two liter coke, please.”

“will that be all?”

suddenly, joy has begun waving frantically, stealing your attention away from the employee on the phone. she shakes her head vigorously and jinsoul mouths ‘no’ over and over.

assuming that’s what they want you say, you answer, “um... no?”

your friends smile, clearly happy with your response. then, jinsoul flips the notepad and reveals to you what has been written.

send your cutest delivery guy :)

you freeze, realizing that’s your next line. reluctantly, you say it. “actually, could you please... send your cutest delivery guy?”

jinsoul shoots you a big thumbs up and joy nods indicating she was satisfied.

the person over the line chuckles. “i’ll see what we can do. anything else?”

“nope, that’ll be all.”

once you’ve told her your address, all that’s left to do is wait. none of you bother trying to continue your study session because you’re too busy making up scenarios, the excitement of this ‘cute delivery guy’ getting to the three of you.

“so, if he’s insanely good looking... then what?” jinsoul asks, eyes filled with hope.

“then we get his number,” joy says, giving her a ‘duh’ look.

the blonde stares at her, incredulously. “there’s three of us, joy.”

“sharing is caring,” responds joy as you suggest, “ask him if he has any friends.”

you and joy laugh at your overlapped answers and how different they are.

“and what if he’s insanely old?” jinsoul continues.

you crack up at the question. joy shoves her shoulder, playfully.

“it could happen!” jinsoul defends. “have you guys never watched catfish?”

“i promise you, it’s not that serious,” you say, laughing. “he’s just delivering our pizza.”

“yeah and besides, you guys are totally not asking the important questions,” says joy. “what if he’s ugly?”

the three of you sit in silence, trying to contain your laughter before you speak up.

“well... then at least we got the pizza.”

when the doorbell rings, you all dash down your stairs so fast anyone else would think there was a fire in your room. you crowd against the door but jinsoul stands on the tips of her toes to see through the peephole.

her voice comes out breathless. “oh my god.”

“what is it?” you ask as you try to shove her out of the way.

being the tallest out of the three of you, joy is able to easily peek through the glass at the top of the door. you can only watch her jaw drop.

“no way!” she exclaims.

you whine. “guys, if you’re not gonna move at least tell me what the big deal is!”

your friends share a look that morphs into sly smiles and your confusion only grows. your doorbell rings again, the person standing behind it obviously growing impatient. joy swings the door open without hesitation and you suddenly understand their strange behavior.

there stands nakamoto yuta in all his glory.

he sports a red polo button up with the logo of the pizza place over his chest and a pair of khakis. the cap he wears is also apart of his uniform but he’s placed it on backwards, tufts of his ginger hair peeking out from underneath. he has failed to notice you since his eyes are so focused on reading the receipt in his right hand.  

“i’ve got a large pizza, half pepperoni and half cheese and a two liter coke. here in the notes it says you asked for the ‘cutest delivery guy’ but i was the only one on duty so... i hope you’re not too dissappoin—wait, y/n?” he has finally looked up and his shock cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

you smile, awkwardly. “hi yuta.”

he raises a brow. “you ordered this?”

you nod. “um, yeah. i didn’t know you worked at a pizza place.”

he shrugs, sheepishly. “i know it’s nothing glamorous but it’s something. i’m just trying to save up as much money as i can right now.”

“well, good for you,” you say, genuinely.

he stares up at you, his lips curving up into a small smile and you mirror the expression.

“okay.” joy drags out the word, dramatically. “jinsoul and i are gonna head out now. catch you guys later!”

“i think we can stay and have one slice of—ow! what’d you pinch me like that for?”

“we’re leaving,” joy says, through gritted teeth.

joy excuses herself and jinsoul unwillingly follows before they walk out your front door, not even bothering to grab their stuff from upstairs.

you clear your throat, resenting how painfully bad your friends were at acting. “so, uh, how much?”

“it’s on the house.”

you fold your arms, teasingly. “that seems too good to be true.”

yuta smiles and you realize it has not once left his face. “maybe it is.”

you lean against your doorframe. “what’s the catch?”

“i get to eat this pizza with you,” he responds.

his boldness stuns you into silence. nakamoto yuta wanted to spend time with you?

“you can definitely say no,” he adds, sensing your shock. “and i’m extremely sorry if i overstepped.”

you can’t seem to shake your head fast enough. “no, no, no! i would really like that.”

you swear you see a relieved smile appear on his face. “oh, good. i mean, your friends just left and i would hate for you to eat alone, you know?”

you can hardly contain your happiness at the fact that yuta was just as bad an actor as joy and jinsoul. “well, that’s an offer i just can’t refuse.” you step aside so he can enter your house.

“nice place,” he comments, looking around.

“thanks. um, you can just set that over there if you want.” you point towards your kitchen.

yuta obeys, placing the food on your dinner table. he takes a seat and you quickly grab plates and cups for the two of you. not even a minute later you’re both stuffing your faces with food.

“how can you work around stuff this good and not be craving it every second?” you ask him, wiping your face with a napkin.

“seeing how much grease they dump into this helps kill the craving,” he says, honestly. “besides, i don’t really like pizza that much.”

you opt to ignore the first part and motion to the half eaten slice on his plate. “looks like you like it.”  

he shakes his head. “trust me, the only thing i like here isn’t the pizza.”

you want to take his comment as a compliment but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. besides, you were starting to get used to his bluntness. “you know, we haven’t talked much but i can just tell you’re an open book.”

he smirks, not agreeing nor disagreeing. “well, most people don’t know a thing about me. i’m just the strange japanese guy. how do you see me?”

you tilt your head, staring at him deeply. “i see you as someone who knows his likes and dislikes. doesn’t seem like you’re one to hold back.”

“i could the same about you. not just anyone points out someone else’s snoring, much less calls it cute. that takes guts.” the smirk on his face grows at seeing you bury your head in your hands.

“oh god, i don’t know what i was thinking. if you could just erase that from your brain it would be greatly appreciated. i’d rather not seem like a dork to you.”

“well, i liked it. no one says that type of stuff to me especially since i’m kind of...” he trails off, brushing his bangs out of his face. “i’m kind of reserved.”

you nod. “i’ve noticed. to be honest, i’ve always wanted to get to know you for that exact reason. i’m glad you’re letting me.”

he looks up at you. “seriously?”

“yeah. everyone thinks you’re this big ‘mystery’,” you make air quotes, “but i’ve always just thought you were interesting. from what i’ve gathered, you’re a really good guy. everyone should give you a chance.”

it takes him a moment to respond. “wow, you think that? that’s... very nice.” he takes a sip of his coke but you sense he’s not finished speaking so you wait. “you know, it’s been a while since someone has given me a chance.”

you frown. “well it’s their loss.”

he chuckles. “you remind me of sicheng.”

you freeze. you knew this was a sensitive topic.

“i mean you’re both so different but... similar?” he shakes his head. “i dunno. maybe it’s how transparent you are. and you’ve got really big hearts too. it only shows with certain people but for some reason, you both show it with me. because you both see me for who i am.” 

“sicheng sounds wonderful,” you say but you secretly relish in the way he sings your praises.

“he is. i miss him. you know i think about moving to china a lot. or even back to japan. just anywhere away from here.”

you try your best to hide your disappointment. “what for? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“i don’t really know. i just want to feel a sense of belonging. i don’t have that here. that’s why i picked up this job, to save up for an escape in case it all gets to be too much for me.” he sighs. “it’s stupid to run from my problems, i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid. i mean, firstly you’re a foreigner coming to an entirely new country and school. then you meet someone and form a bond only for him to leave. you close yourself off a little but who can blame you? it’s tough. you’ve been through a lot.”

he smiles, proudly. “this is exactly what i mean. that’s something sicheng would have said. it would have probably been in chinese and way more aggressive but essentially the same thing.”

“really?” you run a hand through your hair. “wow, he must be insanely wise then.”

yuta laughs at your self praise. “did i forget to mention that you’re both extremely humble?”

you pensively tap your chin. “hm, might’ve left that one out.”

he nods. “must have.”

you fiddle with your fingers. “okay, this may be super random and i may be completely out of line but i, uh, hope you stay.” he only offers you a half smile so you continue. “i mean, it’s totally your decision but i feel like i’m finally getting to know you after so long and i really enjoy your company. i could introduce you to a couple of my friends and i could add you into our group chat. and we could sit together at lunch! we could even like partner up for projects and stuff and—“

“i would love that,” he interrupts. his voice comes out so soft it’s almost a whisper. it’s like he’s been waiting for this exact moment for his entire life, like you just took the words out of his mouth. “oh god, i’ve been wanting this.”

“really?” your voice comes out way louder than intended. “sorry, i’m excited.”

“and i’m the cute one,” he says, referencing your comment from earlier once again.

“when will you let that go—wait, what do you mean by that?”

he stands, grabbing both your plates and cups and making his way towards the sink. “catch up! you’re cute! actually, i think you beat sicheng in that aspect.”

you put a hand over your heart. “you don’t know how much of an honor that is.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i have such a huge soft spot for such a huge dork.”

“wait, am i the dork?!”

“oh my god, you have got to catch up!”

[un-beel-ievable]

The demon brothers making plushies that look like MC 🧸

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕:

• It's impeccable, as everything Lucifer does is. Lucifer's attention to detail is second to none.

• He tries to play the plushie off as no big deal, but literally everyone can see how much effort he's put into his handicraft. The eyes of the plushie are the exact same hue as yours are (Remember when Lucifer disappeared for a week and didn't tell anyone where he was going? I'll tell you now -he was wandering from craft shop to craft shop, trying to find thread that would reflect just how beautiful your eyes are.), and he's somehow managed to replicate a tiny version of your favourite graphic tee -down to the small imperfection on the printed design.

• Wherever he goes, the plushie follows. If he's taking a power nap, it sits on his pillow. If he's doing work at his table, it sits on his laptop, ready to help (however much a plushie can help, anyway). Even when he's in student council meetings, the plushie follows. (Diavolo thinks it's adorable, and has a miniature chair custom made for the "newest student council member". Lucifer can't decide on whether Diavolo is mocking him or not.)

Mammon 💳

• He tried his best, he really did. And I'm not saying that because the plushie he made was terrible, no, it was actually pretty decent!

• He doesn't have a clue on how plushies are made, but when he saw the plushie you made of him, he decided he wanted one too. But of you, of course. 

• He's too prideful (More like your big brother than you'd like to admit, huh, Mammon?) and embarrassed to admit to you that he has no idea what he's doing, so instead of asking you for help, he turns to YouTube videos and craft blogs to learn how to crochet. After restarting his 2nd row for the 76th time and having to untangle his ball of yarn for the 40th, he's almost ready to admit defeat.

• But then he imagines how happy you'd be when you laid eyes on the plushie he'd made of you (because "EVERYONE would want a plushie made by the GREAT Mammon, it's an honour to be chosen to be MY model." )...and suddenly he's crocheting like he's been practicing for years instead of hours, breezing through instructional videos and reading written patterns like a pro.

• His final product is slightly lopsided...but other than that it's really good!! Especially for someone who had never touched a crochet hook in his life before.

• Uses mini you to practice asking real you out.

Leviathan 🎮

• Is relatively decent at using a sewing machine. After all, he tailors his own cosplay. (And if a new season of 'Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' comes out and Ruri-chan happens to be wearing an outfit he particularly likes in it...sometimes he creates a tiny replica of it for his Ruri-chan nesoberi.)

• Ruri-chan has her own shrine in a corner of Levi's room...and now you do as well!

• Your "shrine" is basically a wooden shelf (painted in your favourite colour, of course) with a cork board mounted on the wall above it. Plushie you sits on a tiny throne on the shelf, with all the presents the real you has ever gifted him surrounding your cotton stuffed twin. The noticeboard holds a countless number of momentos -mostly photographs of the two of you and tickets from all the anime concerts and events you guys have been to.

• (The throne you sit on is a replica of the fairy queen's rose quartz throne in season 4, episode 19 of ‘Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' . Official merchandise, of course; there are only about 50 of the official ones left in existence. Ruri-chan had been perched on this very throne for over a decade, all of the other demon brothers were shocked when Levi dethroned Ruri-chan just for you.)

Satan 📚

• His plushie is perfect. Almost...too perfect.

• He's become an expert in plushie making after ploughing through an endless mountain of craft books and making his way through all the handicraft videos to ever exist. And his work shows the results of his diligent research...his final product looks machine made. Flawless. No one can fault him on technique...his work is outstanding. But somehow, something is still...off. It's too perfect, too lifeless. There's no personality to it whatsoever.

• So he spends the next week experimenting with different techniques and materials. He tries crocheting, knitting, making sock plushies...but somehow he still can't capture what makes you...you.

• Mammon notices Satan giving himself a brain aneurysm over this, and makes a comment on instead of trying to think his way through the situation like he always does, he should just "feel for it, you know? Put some heart into it."

• Mammon usually says some strange things...but this time Mammon's words actually seem to resonate with Satan. So he gives it a shot, and pours his entire heart and soul into the next plushie he makes. While the plushie looks virtually the same as all his other attempts, somehow this one feels different. 

• It feels right.

Asmodeus 👄

• Commissions someone to make the plushie of you for him

• Okay, so he doesn't make the plushie by himself (he doesn't want to break a nail). But he's incredibly involved in the designing process.

• Fusses over everything from the measurements to the exact colour (and I mean exact ) of thread they're gonna use to embroider on your eyes. Makes whoever he's commissioning do multiple samples throughout the process, and if he even finds 1 tiny fault with it he tells them to burn it and start over. His criticism is brutal, but if it isn't going to be perfect then what's the point?

• When a plushie is finally made to his satisfaction, he immediately gets down to the incredibly important task of creating a doll sized replica of your closet. He's incredibly through, there's even a tiny version of that one sock you have that's had a rip through the heel for years.

Beelzebub 🍔

• Poor Beel has no idea what he's doing...not even a little bit.

• He's watched the same crafting video so many times that half of that content creator's revenue is probably generated solely by Beelzebub himself.

• Where is he supposed to insert his crochet hook again? Oops...time to rewatch the video for the 286th time, I guess...

• His massive, beefy hands are just not made to do delicate handicrafts. He's already lost several sewing needles (pray to Simeon that no one steps on them) and his balls of yarn seem to be getting tangled up with each other just from him looking at them?? Oh, and he snapped a crochet hook clean in half just now, because he set it down on the table too hard. He's crying because all these things are happening and he has no idea why.

• Belphie walks in on the catastrophe and is pretty surprised to see his brother sobbing over a ball of yarn. Beel's never really been that into handicrafts. But when Belphie sees that Beel has actually set his snacks to the side just to concentrate on making this plushie of you...Belphie knows it's serious between the two of you.

• Belphie offers to help his twin out and between the 2 of them, they manage to finish the plushie within the next couple of days (instead of the next couple of years...which is how long it would take if Beel was left to his own devices).

• "Look!! I even attached a tag that says 'made by Belphie and Beel'!" :3

• (Please be proud of this wholesome boi.)

Belphegor 🛏

• Isn't that bad at handicrafts.

• He used to do them with Lilith, back before the war. She was amazing with her hands...much better than he was. She made him one of his cow plushies...he's always treasured it, but after she passed it became all the more precious to him. Her namesake now sits on the softest pillow he has in his bed...the cow plushie to lead all cow plushies.

• He's seen the way you've looked at Lilith (the cow plushie)...and knows while you don't hate her or it, it must be difficult to have a constant reminder of someone whose shadow you'll never know if you can step out of.

• So he decides to make a plushie of you. Not to replace Lilith (both the cow plushie and his actual sister), but as a symbol of his affection for you. To remind you that you're just as important to him as Lilith was (and maybe even more so).

• His plushie making process mostly goes off without a hitch; he doesn't encounter any major problems. He still remembers the basics, and unlike Beel he doesn't have the physical strength to snap his tools in half...he's too sleepy (All that potential nap time wasted on plushie making...).

• His finished product takes up a pride of place on his pillow beside Lilith (the cow plushie). Knowing that the 2 of you are watching over him while he sleeps makes him feel truly happy for the first time in years.

[baepop]

J’aime

You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Word Count: 16.2k

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Genre: Slight Fluff, Smut, Angst

A/N:  What’s next? maybe a Taehyung fic to quench my secret thirst?

Part 2 | Part 3

Working at J’aime Café had taught you a valuable lesson: Where there’s high risk, there’s high reward, and in the absence of said reward, there would be unbelievable loss too.

It all started when you finally got around to checking your voicemails one March afternoon and you realized the job you applied to months ago had finally reached out to you for an interview. Since you weren’t always the best at keeping track of these things, and noticing the voicemail was now a week old, you quickly paused your show and checked the time. Two o’ clock, still during business hours.

The phone rang twice before a courteous voice responded to your call. “J’aime Café, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hello! My name is Y/N and I applied for the barista position. The manager reached out to me for an interview last week. I was wondering if it was possible to come by sometime soon for an interview?” You held your breath and crossed your fingers, hoping they wouldn’t turn you away because you were so late on responding.

“Ahh, Y/N! Yes of course, can you come by this afternoon? If not, then we can do your interview maybe… Wednesday morning?”

“Today’s perfect! Thank you so much!” You couldn’t hide your excitement and gratitude but made a mental note to be more professional in person.

The manager chuckled at your glee and ended the phone call with a simple “See you soon.”

The café was only a 15-minute walk away, so you weren’t in a rush to get ready. You spent the next half hour or so trying to decide what to wear. Dress for the job you want, not for the job you have. That’s what you’d always heard growing up, but if that was actually the case, you’d be walking over there dressed in a cop uniform. You sighed and placed your hands on your hips. What was that other piece of advice about job interviews? Oh yeah, dress as if you already work there so they can better picture you as an employee. Since the coffee shop was small, you had only ever seen three people working there total including the manager and they always had on jeans and knitted sweaters or some variation of that, so you ultimately decided to trade your pencil skirt for black jeans and your heels for boots. You kept your pretty pink blouse on though. Good first impressions are always important. If there was anything that worried you in these situations, it was being forgettable.

You checked your ponytail for any fly away hairs then headed off towards the café. As you walked past the park near your house, you rehearsed your replies to general interview questions. So why do you want to work here? I have plenty of experience in customer service and feel I could bring great things to the table as an employee here. Do you have experience handling money? Yes, yes, I do. I have worked with countless POS systems as well so I’m sure I can learn yours very quickly.

You were so busy interrogating yourself that you didn’t notice or thank the person holding the door open for you once you arrived at the coffee shop. You stood in the lobby, searching for the manager. When you realized you were accidentally standing in line, you rushed to get out of the way. You clutched your handbag with clammy hands as you observed your surroundings anxiously. It’s just an interview, most likely informal, given the setting. You got this. Don’t sweat it.

You’d never realized how busy it could get here, seeing the huge line of customers that had accumulated. When you looked behind the bar, you realized there was only one employee back there. You didn’t want to bother him inquiring about the manager, since they were already so busy, so you found a stool to sit on and wait patiently.

As you watched the cashier ring customers up, you were impressed by his cheery disposition and professionalism despite having so many drinks lined up and no barista. Thankfully for you and the cashier, only about 2 minutes had passed by before two employees came out of the back room. They seemed to be in a heated discussion, but upon closer look, it was more playful than anything. The one with earrings and hand tattoos was tying on his apron while smirking and nodding at the older one holding a clip board. In an incredible show of annoyance, the barista walked away mid conversation and began making all the drinks that were backed up, making sure to slam the doors and cups obnoxiously. However, he was able to do so many things at once that it was no time at all before he cleared the crowd of people waiting on their orders.

You were in such awe at the barista’s sheer talent that you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. It wasn’t until the man with the clip board stood in the way of your eyesight that you realized you had a mission. As you stared up at the stranger, you had to think for a second what it was that he had just asked you.

“Are you Y/N by any chance?”

“Oh uh, yeah! Hi, are you the manager?” You wiped your hand on your thigh and went in for a handshake.

“Yes, I am,” he shook your hand firmly, “Thank you for coming in so soon. As you can see, we really need some new employees around here!” The manager, whom you presumed to be Mr. Kim noted on his nametag, raised his voice towards the end of his sentence so that the barista could hear from behind the bar. Seeing the guy with tattoos chuckle at his boss’ cheeky behavior had a calming effect on you.

The interview went extremely well, so well that it only lasted 10 minutes before you got a job offer. You accepted it right away of course, considering there was only $3.79 in your bank account, so you showed up to the coffee shop first thing in the morning the very next day.

You were excited and confident yet nervous. You had worked plenty of jobs to put you at ease with customer interaction, but never at a coffee shop. You didn’t know the first thing about making specialty drinks or brewing coffee for that matter. You’d simply always been a tea person.

The manager asked you to come in once the café opened, so you were there just as the cashier was unlocking the front door. He held it open for you just as you entered and offered you a dazzling smile.

“Hey, you’re the new hire, right? My name’s Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi! You’re going to be shadowing me today.”

“Yes, hi,” you weren’t sure why you were blushing, maybe because he already knew who you were, “um where can I put my stuff?”

“Oh, we have cubbies in the back office. Just find an empty one then come meet me out here when you’re ready. Oh, and grab an apron and a hat while you’re back there.” You hurried to do exactly as he said, determined to do a good job on your first day. Everyone seemed so capable and diligent, you didn’t want to come off as a newbie at all.

You noticed the cubbies immediately as you stepped into the back. You put your sweater and satchel in one of the cubes next to one that housed a leather jacket and an iPhone. Since you saw another cube filled, you wondered if the handsome barista would be working today too. You forced yourself not to think about that for now, you didn’t want to be distracted on your first day. Once you found the extra aprons and hats, you headed to the front of the shop where customers had already begun ordering. You rushed to the cashier’s side to observe him as he took orders and wrung them into the touch screen accordingly. The same scenario played out from the day before: Customers began crowding the end of the bar, checking their watches impatiently and wondering where the hell their drinks were. You began getting nervous, hoping no one would complain to you. You had no idea what to say to them.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hobi finished wringing up the last customer in line before turning to you and saying, “Don’t worry, he always does this. Why? No idea, but Jungkook’ll be in any second now to make these. He has to anyway, because neither of us have been trained on making drinks!” Hobi laughed and patted you on the back before turning towards the crowd of people that had just walked in. You laughed along nervously, checking the door for the boy with the tattoos.

Thankfully, thirty seconds later, the infamous barista barged in through the door and b-lined it to the back to grab an apron. “Oh, shit! Here’s my phone! I thought I lost it! Thank god!” Jungkook yelled at no one in particular and you giggled at the theatrics that could be heard from the entire shop. On his way to the bar, he eyed you briefly but didn’t say anything, choosing instead to greet the regulars.

“Ahh, there he is! The resident rockstar is gracing us with his presence! We’re finally gonna get some coffee everyone!” An older man with grey hair and a hoarse voice bellowed out. Jungkook laughed and high fived him over the counter.

“Jerry! You old bastard, still haven’t croaked in your sleep, I see! Vanilla latte with three shots coming right up!” Jungkook began making everyone’s drinks with the same ease as you witnessed the day before. His banter with the older man seemed incredibly inappropriate, but clearly it was okay since his customer replied with booming laughter.

“Nope, not yet son! Still healthy as an ox.”

“Not if you keep having all this caffeine. But it’s not like I’d stop you. I’d miss your wise crackin’ around here.” Jungkook handed him his latte and the older gentleman took a sip.

“Don’t you worry about that, son, even if I did croak, I’d still come back and haunt your ass for making me some god-awful drinks!” Him and Jungkook laughed heartily at his jabs, even gaining chuckles from a few customers as well as from Hobi. “Alright, I’m heading out. See you kids tomorrow morning.” The older man waved at everyone including you and sauntered out of the door.

As you watched Jungkook make the rest of the drinks that were lined up, you noticed he interacted with each and every customer. None of them were as acquainted with him as Jerry was, but they remembered each other’s names at the very least.

You noticed the kind of morning regulars at the cafe were more of the same than anything else. Many of them dawned suits and work uniforms, most likely residents from the area stopping in on their way to work in the neighboring metropolis.

After 9 o’ clock, business severely died down. It was only then that Hobi was able to give you a tour of the café and answer questions you already had.

“Have you ever made coffee before?” Hobi inquired while slapping the top of the brewing machine.

“Uhh…to be honest, no I haven’t,” You noticed Jungkook ‘tsk’ with a side smirk as he wiped down the counter, no doubt listening in on Hobi training you, “I’m more of a tea kind of person.”

The older guy smiled, “That’s okay, it’s pretty easy to learn.” His patience with you made you happy.

“This,” he pointed to the pots with handles, “is where you put the grounded coffee into, then you press the ‘brew’ button, and the coffee begins dripping into these containers that keep the coffee hot. Some people don’t like the fancy shmancy drinks that hot shot over here serves and prefer regular cups of coffee. If you’re on the cash register, then it’ll be your responsibility to serve the regular coffee.” You nodded along with everything he was saying but couldn’t help your small smile at his jab to Jungkook. He moved you two further down and pointed to a contraption you’d never seen before. “This is for ‘pour-over’ coffees. Some people order special coffee blends that we don’t brew in the machine, so whenever that happens you just come over here and put the grounded up coffee in this cone, get some hot water, slowly pour it over the grinds and watch it drip into their cup. Just make sure you don’t forget about it or it’ll overflow.” Hobi mimed all the actions out as he explained the process. It was endearing. You tried your best to retain all the information. After explaining where to find the coffee filters and the cup sleeves from, he decided to give you a break from the information overload. “Here,” Hobi handed you a rag and a bottle of Windex, “why don’t you wipe down the windows outside and then come back and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

You gladly took the cleaning supplies from his hands and went out to the small tables that lined the front of the shop. The entire front was made of glass, so you could still see Hobi and Jungkook from where you were. As you sprayed down the windows, you noticed Jungkook leaning over the bar resting his cheek on his palm and shamelessly staring at you. You swallowed and tried to focus on the task, pretending you didn’t notice him even though the blush on your face told a different story. What’s his freaking deal? Given his demeanor with the employees here and the customers, you wondered if he would start picking on you too, or if he was just straight up flirting. Either way, you didn’t have time for either since you desperately needed to keep this job. When you entered the shop again, you noticed Hobi left to use the bathroom, so you took the chance to make polite conversation with Jungkook.

He had been watching you the entire time that you came in, but still you tried not to acknowledge it and look busy, which was hard because you didn’t know enough to pull that off. You fiddled with the coffee filters before clearing your throat to speak.

“So…your name’s Jungkook, right? How long have you been working here?” You looked over at him innocently. He was leaning on the counter propped up on one elbow with a smile playing at his lips.

After a second, he replied, “Couple months.”

“Oh…but you seem really good at what you do. Did you catch on quickly?”

“Not my first coffee shop, babe.” Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. Jungkook was eyeing you, probably waiting for your next question, but you weren’t sure what to say. Yep, definitely shameless flirting.

“That’s because he got canned from his last gig for showing up late every day.” Hobi’s voice came from behind you and startled you, but you were grateful for it since you had the perfect exit to this charged moment between you and the bad boy barista.

Jungkook chuckled and responded, “What can I say, your mom just can’t get enough of me in the morning.” Hobi chucked an empty cup at Jungkook’s head but the younger boy ducked down slightly and dodged it.

With laughter in his voice, Hobi turned to you. “Come on, Y/N, let’s get you away from this terrible influence.” He stopped at an odd machine with a large hole at the top and a simple lever. “Okay, so now let’s go over how to grind up coffee beans…”

Their banter and the overall atmosphere was infectious, and it had you smiling from ear to ear for no particular reason.

With thirty minutes left to the end of your shift, the café got busy again. When you checked the time, you realized schools in the area had already let students out which would logically explain all the uniformed teenagers in line ordering drinks full of whipped cream and fruit. This time, Hobi let you stay back and fetch any coffee orders that had come in, but hardly any of them wanted regular coffee. During the few times that Hobi handed you empty cups to be filled, you’d hold the lever that allowed coffee to trickle into cups then glance over towards the end of the bar. The scene that unfolded before your eyes had you smiling as if enjoying a private joke. It seemed Jungkook was a hit amongst the local teenage girls. As he handed out fruity drink after fruity drink, they all giggled and thanked him personally. One even took her phone out innocently, but you could tell she was recording him, probably for her Snapchat.

The cafe filled up with students who were in no rush to go home, changing the sleepy ambience of the shop into a rowdy, hip one. Once Hobi wrung up the last person in line, he turned to the barista and said, “Don’t catch a case out here Jungkook. These girls have their hopes up.”

The three of you laughed in unison, but Jungkook looked over at you with a look of offense on his face. “Y/N! Don’t laugh at his jokes! And here I thought you were cool.”

You couldn’t help but giggle like one of the girls on the other side of the counter. “I guess you judged me too quickly, huh.” Hobi gave you a fist bump and chimed in about how you were his new favorite.

As you untied your apron in the backroom, you recapped the day in your head. You were overall satisfied with your first day at your new job. The job seemed easy enough to do, your coworkers were cool, and the customers were more bearable than at some of the other jobs you worked in the past. Sure, there were people here and there that seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, intent on giving service workers a hard time for things out of their control, but other than that it was a great day. And it absolutely had nothing to do with the head barista flirting with you. Not a single thing.

A whole month had passed before you got your first action on the bar. You had been feeling nervous and hesitant about starting that part of your training, especially seeing the sheer volume of people that order drinks during rush times. You feared you’d only be in Jungkook’s way if you tried to help, so you settled for observing as much as you could. Hobi had been getting his feet wet in that area this past month, so when you learned enough of the register, he’d leave you alone and help Jungkook with backed up drink orders.

Jungkook had taken the time to train Hobi while it was slow, especially since the older boy had already learned everything he could about cashiering. You, on the other hand, were content with wringing up customers and cleaning up after them. However, on this one particular day, Hobi called out of work and Mr. Kim had stepped out to run some errands for the day, so it was just you and Jungkook working at the cafe. Jin had felt confident enough to leave the shop in yours and Jungkook’s hands, and although you were fully capable, you still wished he hadn’t left. If you were being honest with yourself, Jungkook made you nervous. Cute guys made you nervous, and the ones that were both cute and shameless made your hands clammy. He was always respectful with you though, and kept his distance when Hobi wasn’t around, which is why you still hadn’t established a close relationship with Jungkook like you had with Hobi. You knew the older guy’s last name, where he was studying at, what shows he was watching at the moment, what his favorite super villain was; but when it came to Jungkook, he was simply still a beautiful mystery.

After the morning rush, when the café emptied and there was nothing left for the two of you to busy yourselves with, you started to feel awkward again. You weren’t sure how to talk to someone like Jungkook, who was always so blunt and boisterous. You, on the other hand, were reserved and polite. You weren’t exactly shy, you just weren’t sure how to navigate a friendship with him, but you wanted to learn so that there wouldn’t be so much silence between you two. Not to mention, his shameless staring, which persisted just as it did from day one, confounded you. He never ever tried to make a move on you, almost as if he was waiting for you to say something to him. If you were being honest, the staring flustered you because it was coming from such an attractive confident person. You were definitely attracted to him too, but you’d never start anything romantic with a coworker. Those kinds of things always got too messy, especially with such a small staff.

As you wiped down the windows outside, your eyes automatically found Jungkook’s on the other side. You smirked and waved at him, acknowledging him for once. He flashed a crooked smile at you and nodded a ‘sup’ at you in return. You couldn’t get the stupid smirk off your face as you finished cleaning the windows, realizing you probably looked like a happy idiot from inside the shop. You thought about what to say to him when you’d have to go back inside, ultimately deciding on just coming out and asking him what his deal was. So, when you put away the cleaning materials and met Jungkook’s lingering eyes, you cleared your throat and asked the burning month-old question at the tip of your tongue.

“So…what’s with the staring?” You put your hand on your hip but then second guessed yourself and placed it on the counter. Jungkook watched your movements carefully and chuckled, observing your false bravado.

“Easy, you’re very beautiful.” Jungkook watched your eyes widen before continuing, “I can restrain myself though, if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You smiled and looked at anywhere but at his face. “Ah…well, that answers that. I was just asking, thought maybe I had something on my face.”

Jungkook laughed, “No, nothing like that. Is that why you don’t really talk to me, because I make you uncomfortable?” Jungkook kept his gaze directly on your burning face which made you feel like you were on the hot seat.

“What do you mean? I totally talk to you.” You crossed your arms, giving up on willing your blushing cheeks to cool off.

“Psh, not like you do with Hobi. You guys are like best friends now. I’m third wheeling it over here.” Jungkook mirrored your arms crossed over your chest. You giggled and rolled your eyes, playing along to his false offense.

“Well, I don’t know… Hobi’s easy to talk to I guess.”

“And I’m not?” It was evident that Jungkook took pleasure in grilling you with that teasing smile playing at his lips, but you refused to backtrack now.

You took a minute to think before responding, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but not exactly. You’re really…how should I put this…out there. And I’m more of an…in there…kind of person.” After a beat, you both laughed at how much you weren’t making sense, you with embarrassment and him at how cute you seemed when you were flustered.

“Well maybe if you got to know me you wouldn’t be so shy.” Jungkook challenged you with a wicked glint in his eye and a sexy side smirk.

“Point taken. So, tell me about yourself then, Mr. Third Wheel.” Jungkook laughed at his new nickname.

“What do you want to know, babe?” You rolled your tongue around on the inside of your cheek and tried to think of a good question for him while ignoring the thrill that his pet name for you inflicted.

“Umm, okay, are you a student anywhere?”

This time it was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “BORING. Seriously, that’s what you want to know about me? Let me guess, your next question is about my favorite color.” His teasing flustered you further, proving your point about how hard it’d be to have a conversation with him.

“Okay fine! Have you ever killed anyone?” You looked Jungkook in the eye in an attempt to intimidate him.

“If I told you the truth then I’d have to kill you too, and I don’t really feel like doing that, so, pass.” You smirked at each other until it turned into a stare down, conceding after a while and rolling your eyes at him. Just then, you noticed a customer making their way to the register and just like that, your brief albeit silly conversation with Jungkook was effectively over for the time being.

Once you two were done wringing and serving the random group of people that interrupted your conversation, Jungkook immediately turned back to you and asked a follow up question. “So, what about you? Have you ever killed anyone?”

You smiled and responded, “Oh, tons! My favorite victims happen to be flirtatious coffee shop baristas. You know any?”

Jungkook’s laugh was disarming. The more you talked the more at ease you felt with him. He was definitely charming, which is probably why he got along with strangers so easily, and probably why he could get away with coming in late all the time. What he lacked in professionalism and punctuality he more than made up for in expertise and people skills.

Before you knew it, 3 o’clock rolled around and tons of school kids flooded the café. You were able to wring everyone in a timely manner, so there was nothing left to do but watch Jungkook make drinks. You felt bad at how slammed he seemed, so you asked if he needed any help, secretly hoping he’d say no.

Jungkook smiled down at the drinks he was making and responded, “Sure, if you’re feeling up for it!” Why don’t you come over here and top these bad boys with whipped cream then hand them out.”

You immediately grew nervous but rushed over to help. There was a different kind of pressure when it came to making drinks, you quickly realized. Not only did you have to worry about making everyone’s orders correctly, you had to do it quickly with no mistakes since all the customers would crowd the bar and watch your every move. Your hands slightly shook as you took hold of the whipped cream dispensers. The café made their own, so it wasn’t the cans of cool whip you were expecting.

Jungkook noticed your confusion and answered your thoughts. “All you have to do is shake it a bit, hold it upside down and swirl it on top of the ice so that it makes a nice cone shape. Go on.”

You did as he instructed, but when you squeezed the handle, the trapped air inside of the tin released into the cup and sent an ice cube sliding across the counter. Your face was blazing with embarrassment, but Jungkook didn’t seem to think it was embarrassing it at all. Instead, he offered you some more help.

“Here, do it like this.” Jungkook stood close behind you and took hold of your hand that held the contraption. He squeezed your hand so you could get an idea of how firm to hold it, tilting your hand completely upside down, and helped your finger pull the trigger. Slowly and smoothly, cream circled the top of the drink nicely. With his head almost resting on your shoulder and his mouth so close to your ear, his instructions sent shivers down your spine. “You have to turn it all the way and ease up on the trigger or else you’ll make a mess.” You nodded tightly, pretending to understand what he said only because your brain wouldn’t stop obsessing at the way his chest felt pressed up against your back and his hands on yours.

Your fingers shook while fitting a lid on the drink. When you finally handed it out to the customer, you caught a dirty look from the girl who it belonged to. You figured she was one of Jungkook’s many admirers. The thought had you alight with humor. As you continued to top the drinks and hand them out, you realized how easy it was to work with Jungkook. The hard part was trying to keep your cool.

“Look at you go! It’s almost as if you’re an actual barista!” You chuckled at Jungkook’s comment as you handed out the last drink.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? I’m your replacement.” Jungkook looked at you for a moment without saying anything.

“What?”

“Shy my ass. You’ve got a mouth on you. I like it.”

“I never said I was shy.”

“Touché.”

Just then, Jin came in through the front door.

“Thanks for holding down the fort you two. Y/N you can go, you did a great job today.” Jin rounded the corner of the stand and you handed him your apron.

“Same time tomorrow?” You looked at your manager who was busy checking the sales on the register.

“Yep, see you in the morning!” Jin answered you absentmindedly so you took that as your queue to go, but not before saying something to Jungkook.

“Do you think you can manage the bar without me?” You asked him cheekily as you removed your hat.

He smiled at you with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know how I’ll go on, but I think I might just barely make it.”

And just like that, you headed home with butterflies in your stomach for the first time in ages.

Three months into working at the café, a new horror movie came out, and since Hobi knew you were a horror fan, he invited you to come see it with himself and Jungkook.

“If we go tomorrow night, the tickets are half off for students. You in?” Hobi was busying himself counting the change in the drawer while you contemplated going out with them. They didn’t want to go until late, so you’d definitely lose out on sleep, which you weren’t a fan of, but you didn’t want to turn down your first invitation out from your coworkers. You knew Hobi and Jungkook regularly hung out together outside of work, and it made you feel a tad left out whenever they talked about things you weren’t a part of.

You also couldn’t lie and say you weren’t excited to hang out with Jungkook off the clock. Over the last two months, you two had taken any and all chances to flirt when left alone but you both knew how to behave yourselves while in the presence of Hobi and Mr.Kim. It sort of became like a game of who could make the other blush the most. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t enjoying Jungkook’s dirty looks, because what had started off as glances turned into full blown body checks, winks, lip biting and cheeky facial expressions. You also couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t take extra time in the mornings to get ready for work for this exact reason.

You knew it was probably a bad idea, what started developing between you and Jungkook over the last couple months. You wouldn’t accept responsibility for how it started, but you did acknowledge that your shameless entertaining his advances wasn’t innocent in the slightest. You knew this was a slippery slope to go down, but it made your harmless fling all the more exciting.

That’s why when you looked at Jungkook after Hobi’s invitation and caught his subtle wink at you, you accepted right away. You hadn’t been out in so long, especially not with the opposite gender.

You pondered what to wear when you weren’t busy tending to customers. If you tried too hard and dressed in the sexiest outfit you could find, you might seem desperate. You might also give Hobi the wrong idea. If you wore something casual that you might wear to the coffee shop, then it might be embarrassing if they show up dressed to the nine.

When the time finally came for your movie date with the boys, you settled on the best of both worlds. You let your hair down, which would be a nice change from the ponytails and buns you wore to work. You still kept your usual look of denim and a nice shirt, but you traded your comfy work shoes for heeled boots. Trying without trying. You decided against putting on a full face of makeup since you didn’t want your coworkers looking at you differently at work without it on. You called an uber once you were satisfied with your looks, feeling butterflies the entire way there. You weren’t just excited to see Jungkook either, your relationship with Hobi had evolved into genuine friendship outside of being coworkers, so you couldn’t wait to hang out with him either.

Once the car pulled into the movie theatre, you immediately noticed the boys waiting out front. They were dressed impeccably, and you instantly regretted changing outfits. Hobi was sporting sweats and a denim jacket with trendy sneakers and a beanie. The outfit was sporty but sexy at the same time, given it seemed he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath the jacket.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was wearing something akin to what you pictured he might look like after hours. He was wearing the leather jacket you noticed was always in his work cubby paired with ripped blue jeans, a bucket hat, combat boots, and a plaid button up tied around his waist. You almost didn’t want to get out of the car, but you knew you’d keep getting charged for the ride if you didn’t, so you exited with a sigh and waved to get their attention. They were in the middle of a conversation, but it was Hobi who saw you first. He smiled and did a silly dance to show how happy he was to see you and it made you crack up.

“Why did I agree to go out with you?” You teased Hobi.

“Because you have nothing better to do anyway.” You feigned pain at his words, no doubt a minor habit you had picked up from Jungkook. When you turned towards Jungkook, you instantly noticed how he wasn’t laughing along with you guys. Probably in one of those moods again.

It happened very rarely, because Jungkook was always a cheery person, but once in a while he wouldn’t be in the mood to socialize and those were the most boring days at work.

When all three of you headed inside, Jungkook went ahead of you two so you gave Hobi an inquisitive look while pointing at your grumpy third wheel to which he responded with a shrug. You sighed, a gloomy mood setting in at the thought of not having as much fun as you thought you would.

You offered to hold seats for everyone while they waited in line at the concession stand. You wanted to give Jungkook time to get over his bad mood, and you also wanted to avoid craning your neck from getting stuck with bad seats. You busied yourself on your phone in the meantime, but you weren’t scrolling for long before you felt someone take a seat next to you.

Jungkook sat down with a large popcorn and tossed a few pieces in his mouth, “Hey work wife, I missed you.”

You smiled and put your phone away. “Oh yeah? How much did you miss me exactly?

Jungkook took hold of your hand that was resting on the arm rest in between you two. “This much.” He laced your fingers together and wiggled his eyebrows. You couldn’t help but laugh, since it all felt elementary. It brought you back to your first date ever when holding hands, and any skin ship for that matter, was a huge deal.

You wriggled your hand out of his grasp, since you weren’t comfortable flirting around Hobi. You didn’t want your friend to feel like a third wheel at all. “Seriously though, you okay? You seemed kind of down earlier.”

Jungkook looked embarrassed at your worrying. He shifted in his seat and, could it be, a light blush forming on his cheeks? He smiled to himself, looking down at his thighs, “What, are you worrying about me now?”

This time it was your turn to look at Jungkook and wonder how he could be so cute while being flustered. “Of course I do, can’t have my work husband being sad.” You pinched his cheek and Jungkook smiled his most dazzling smile yet. He swatted your hand but held onto it for a while, caressing your palm and turning your hand over in his as if never having ever held a hand before, then letting go. It was a tender moment unlike your usual flirtation with aim at getting a rise out of the other. It was so sweet yet fleeting that you spent the rest of the two-hour movie thinking about it. Jungkook glanced over at you many times during the movie, but you refused to look at him, fearing he might catch on at exactly how much he was having an effect on you. It was starting to feel all too real, and you couldn’t be your usual cool and playful self if what was going on between the two of you was aactually real. You’d never thought of Jungkook as a boyfriend, although you did think of him under the covers late at night. You willed the sinful thoughts out of your head for the next two hours, so you didn’t seem weird later when it was time to say goodbye.

It wasn’t hard to put it out of your mind eventually, especially when you saw how much of a weenie Hobi was when it came to horror movies. You keeled over with laughter at the sight of his pale face while exiting the theatre. “Why did you want to see this movie if you were going to be so afraid?” You spoke in between laughs.

“Because! I don’t know! I didn’t think it was going to be that scary! Besides, I wanted you to come and I know it’s your favorite, so…”

“Awwwww, Hobi! I’d have come even if it was a Disney movie.” You pinched your friend’s cheek and his answering crescent eyes of happiness had you giggling. You looked over at Jungkook, and it seemed his bad mood had returned, so you continued only speaking to Hobi. “Seriously, thanks for the invite. It was fun! We should do it again.”

But now, all three of you had reached the outside of the theater and the night had brought a chill with it that had all of you hugging your torsos. You hurried to pull out your phone and order an uber home, but Jungkook had other ideas.

“Put that away, you’re coming with us.” You looked up at the boy who was barely looking at you in the eye.

“You sure? I live close to the shop, are you going in that direction?”

Jungkook took hold of your arm and started walking to his car impatiently. “Okay, okay!” You looked back at Hobi who was observing everything from the back. As if knowing exactly what your look meant, he answered with a shrug yet again that said I have no idea why he’s acting this way.

You called shotgun once you got to the car and Hobi playfully kicked the back wheel of Jungkook’s car in theatrical anger. Once the three of you pulled off in the direction of Hobi’s house, you got into light conversation about the scariest parts of the movie and the faulty plot. Jungkook didn’t say a single word the entire time. He stared straight ahead at the road and kept both hands on the wheel. You glanced at him periodically, looking for reactions that might tip you off for the cause of his change in mood, but nothing made sense. By the time you said your goodbyes to Hobi through the window, you had given up on talking to Jungkook and settled for looking at the small-town scenery passing you by.

However, the longer you sat in silence, the more annoyed you became at the situation. You couldn’t help feeling like you did something wrong and you wanted answers, so you lowered the music playing on the radio and fully turned towards Jungkook. He looked at you sideways then kept his focus on the road. When you didn’t say anything, he offered a simple, “Yes?”

“Did I do something? Why are you being weird again?”

“I’m being weird?” Although Jungkook kept his serious demeanor, you could hear a smile in his voice, so you pressed further.

“Yes! You seem grumpy and It feels personal.”

After a thoughtful minute, Jungkook released the steering wheel with his right hand and took hold of your left hand.

“Sorry.” Jungkook offered a simple apology in a voice so small you weren’t sure if you actually heard it. He didn’t look at you again for the rest of the ride, but you were content with the silence and holding his hand in the darkness of his car. You welcomed the way your heartbeat quickened at the romantic contact, preferring this over his cold demeanor from earlier anyday.

It dawned on you after a while that you hadn’t told Jungkook your actual address. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes,” Jungkook looked over at you and smiled at your puzzled reaction. “Because I’m not taking you home, I hope you don’t mind.”

“…You’re kidnapping me?” You smiled at him, wondering what was going through his mind.

“Is that what you normally call dating?”

“Oh, so this is a date now?”

“Yeah, didn’t you get my rolled-up proposal sent through carrier pigeon?”

You giggled, feeling relieved that things were back to normal, and also excited at the turn of events. “What’s the plan then?”

After thinking for a moment, Jungkook simply replied, “I hope you like darts.”

He ended up taking you to a hole-in-the-wall bar in town. He explained that it was his absolute favorite place to go because of the ambience and the cheap beer prices. You were content for a few reasons. For one, not many people were here, so you didn’t have to worry about talking loudly. You also enjoyed places with good beers on draft, and this was one of those places. Lastly, Jungkook seemed to be at ease here, so it made hanging out, playing games and talking casually way more fun.

Although it felt just like any other day at the café with Jungkook, you were a little on edge now since your suspicions at the theatre seemed to be proving themselves true. Did Jungkook want to date you seriously? Or did he simply want to hang out a little extra? Since the flirtation had become so normal, you weren’t sure what to make of the situation. Neither of you were the mushy type, so you feared you wouldn’t really know what was going through his head unless you asked him directly, but you didn’t want to risk seeming clingy or making him feel weird. While playing pool, you decided where you would draw the line, for your own sanity. The smell of his body wash, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the cocky look on his face after sinking balls on the table was making your head swim. You knew it was only a matter of time before the light touching, hugging, and hand holding evolved into something more intimate, so you resolved to not let things go further unless you outlined the parameters of your relationship with him in clear bold lines. You were the type of person to fall hard for someone you had a crush on, and you could already tell that Jungkook had the potential to devastate you. You needed to be careful.

Normally, you were so much better at pool, but you were so deep in your thoughts that you were missing every shot and not realizing it. Jungkook got down to his last ball before putting his stick down and making his way over to you. You watched him approach you, put his hands on your hips and lift you onto the table so you were seated and meeting him eye to eye. The gesture took you by surprise, and you weren’t sure how to react, so you held onto his arms and looked up at him questioningly. He settled his body in between your legs while his hands rested on your thighs.

“What’s up with you?” He looked into your eyes getting straight to the point.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re sucking right now. And you were talking big game earlier, which is something you don’t do unless you can walk the walk. So, what’s on your mind?”

“Here’s a little advice, if you’re taking a girl out on a date, you might not want to insult her pool skills.” You jutted your chin out at him in a petulant pout.

“Oh yeah? Or else what?”

“Or else you’ll probably never hear from her again.” You flicked his nose playfully.

“Well it’s a good thing I work with you then. There’s no avoiding me.”

Your smile faded. Although you were both joking and talking in hypotheticals, he was absolutely right. You were having fun, but you still weren’t sure if you wanted to risk starting something with a coworker that might end badly.

Jungkook noticed your change in demeanor and backed up a few inches. “Sorry, did that one hit too close to home?”

You laughed weekly while running your fingers through your hair nervously, “Yeah…”

Jungkook sighed and extended his hand to you so you could get down from the table. “It’s late and we have work tomorrow, let’s get you home.”

As Jungkook closed the tab out at the bar, you couldn’t help but feel like a total idiot. Here was this extremely sexy and extremely cool guy who was interested in you, and you shot any chance you might’ve had with him down due to fears of something that might never even occur anyway. You felt so stupid and mentally kicked yourself all the way back to the car.

When he didn’t take hold of your hand again during the car ride to your house, you began panicking, realizing your fling with Jungkook might’ve truly ended before even starting. That’s when you realized how whipped you were for him, and how much you’d rather take the risk with him than to have nothing with him at all. It took all your nerves and then some to try and turn the night around by the time you reached your house. You decided you’d kiss him if he consented, and if he wasn’t interested then you’d deal with it and hope the earth might swallow you whole.

Jungkook parked the car along your block and took the keys out of the ignition. Good sign. He turned to you and said nothing, the ball was in your court.

“So…thanks again for tonight. It was fun.“

“Yeah it was.”

When Jungkook didn’t offer anything else, you cleared your throat. “Um…sorry if I made you feel some type of way back there. I liked where things were going before I got all weird.”

Jungkook smirked and leaned his head back on his car seat, reveling in your struggle to convey something that was clearly embarrassing for you. “What do you mean where things were going?”

You blushed at the thought of saying the things that were actually running through your mind. “Yeah, you know, with you being so close to me.”

Without missing a beat, Jungkook placed his hand on your upper thigh and squeezed, looking at your eyes and then your lips. You looked at his veiny hands on you, then up at his face and decided to throw caution to the wind. You leaned into him and planted a soft kiss on his lips, to which he responded by knotting his hands in your hair and kissing you back deeply.

As your lips went to town on each other, you thanked the heavens above that the night wasn’t a lost cause after all. You relished in the kiss as long as you could and took in every detail as if it was your first kiss ever. His lips felt incredibly soft despite the passion he was putting into the make out session. He tasted like wheat beer and buttered popcorn, and you couldn’t get enough. It didn’t take long before your tongues were introduced into the equation. Even as the kiss ignited and the movements of your heads became more exaggerated, you still wanted more. It was almost as if you two had been holding back your lust for each other for so long and now the flood gates were open.

You reached for his head and took his bucket hat off, running your fingers through his slightly damp hair that smelled like Irish Spring. You tugged lightly on his strands, eliciting a groan from his unrelentless mouth on yours. You were both leaning towards the middle with your hands on each other, but it was a bit uncomfortable, so you took your seat belt off and climbed into his lap carefully. The moment excited him and took him by surprise at the same time. He disconnected your lips from each other briefly to look up at you and smile. You blushed, wondering if it was too much, but the negative thought left your head as fast as it entered when he held your head on both sides and brought you in for another kiss. You rested your hands on his chest and tugged on his shirt slightly.

Jungkook’s hands roamed your body with restraint. It was obvious he wanted to be a gentleman and not rush things, since his hands deliberately avoided your more intimate areas. You could tell he was hungry for more, so you appreciated his show of respect. As his hands rested on your waist, two of his fingers dipped under your top and dug in, creating dimples on your flesh. You’d have enjoyed that more if his hands weren’t so cold. You flinched at the contact, moaning into the kiss to show discomfort. His hands immediately retreated, but you two laughed at the comical moment.

You sighed and sat back on his lap, looping your hands around his neck. “I should get inside.”

Jungkook’s head fell back onto the seat with a thud, his hair bouncing along. “Yeah…I should get home too.”

You both sat in silence for a few seconds, neither of you wanting to move. After taking in his fucked out appearance, you grew satisfied with yourself and exited through the driver’s side. You closed the door, waved and then headed in. From your window, you watched Jungkook adjust his pants, start the car and drive off. The whole scene had you smiling to yourself, and you were floating on cloud nine until the moment you fell asleep.

You and Jungkook hadn’t been found out about until a month after your first kiss. You both still lived with your parents, so it was almost impossible to find alone time with each other that didn’t involve heavy petting in the backseat of his car. Needless to say, you were both extremely pent up, which is why when he invited you to come to the store extra early one day, you knew he was up to something.

“Jeon Jungkook? Coming in EARLY?! Something’s gone awry.” Jungkook rolled up his cleaning towel and whipped you with it for teasing him. You yelped at the stinging feeling on your bottom.

“Say you’ll come.”

“I don’t know Jungkook, what if Mr. Kim comes in early?”

“Don’t be so paranoid. Do you want to learn how to make fancy lattes or not?”

You rolled your eyes as you wiped down the counter, knowing he was full of it. “Fuck it, why not. What time exactly?”

“Hmmm…you need a lot of help, better make it 6:00am.” If it wasn’t for the fact that a customer had approached the register at that moment, you would’ve whipped him back for making fun of you.

Bright and early the next day, you and Jungkook met up at the front of the café as planned. Mr. Kim gave him a copy of the store keys for days where he would be too busy to open himself, and it seemed Jungkook was planning on making good use of it.

Normally you’d look like death coming into work this early but knowing who was waiting for you here in private put a spring in your step and a good mood that was unlike you in the morning. Jungkook was a morning person, so he was never afflicted with such issues.

As you watched Jungkook turn on the espresso machines and check the stock for all the necessary ingredients, it was only just now occurring to you that you’d have to make fancy drinks, which was intimidating because the shop’s regular customers were used to Jungkook’s expertise, flare and efficiency.

Jungkook lined up several cups along with clean pitchers and milk on the counter before turning to you with a quirked brow. “You ready?”

“Uh, yeah I guess,” you answered nervously.

Jungkook smiled warmly and patted your shoulder. With his other hand he tipped your chin forward and stared into the depths of your eyes. “You’ve got this. I believe in you, relax.” You melted just a tiny bit.

Turning your attention to the counter, he explained what the training consisted of. “Each of these cups is a different order. I’m going to show you step by step how to make each one, and then I’m going to time you on how fast you do them.” Lifting up one cup at a time, he explained, “These are the different ways someone can order an espresso drink here: a latte, a cappuccino, a flat white, a macchiato, and an americano.” Jungkook handed you an empty pitcher. “This is where you put milk for steaming. If you look inside, there are different measurement lines to fill the milk to depending on what size they order.”

You filled the pitcher with milk to the second line, nodding along. Suddenly, Jungkook stood behind and reached around you, holding your hand with the pitcher and taking hold of the other. He led your free hand over to the nozzle on the espresso machine and very carefully showed you how to steam the milk properly. You flinched at the piercing sound of the steam aerating the milk, causing Jungkook to chuckle softly behind you.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me, I’m new at this!” You pouted with false offense.

“Sorry sorry, you’re just so cute I can’t help it.” Your face beamed in the dim morning light streaming into the café. There was absolutely no denying that you were whipped for this man.

Jungkook led your free hand around the buttons on the machine, showing you how to queue espresso shots. You watched in wonderment as the thin streams of chalky brown liquid shot out and filled tiny shot glasses. The overpowering aroma of coffee quickly filled the air.

He had you prepare 3 pitchers of steamed milk, eventually letting go of you so you could do it on your own, much to your disappointment. “Let’s start with one of the easiest drinks to make, a latte. Pour the shot into the cup and the milk over top.” You did as he instructed, watching the milk turn light brown inside of the cup and eventually foam at the very top.

Jungkook inspected your drink then took a sip. “Not bad. Okay Ms. Fancy Pants, make me a macchiato this time.”

You hesitated with the shot in one hand and the milk in the other. You knew this particular drink was the reverse of a latte…or was it? You poured the hot milk into the cup and swirled the espresso over top. Looking at Jungkook for approval, you pursed your lips at his flat stare. He tsked, shook his head and leaned off the counter to get you a new cup.

“Macchiato means ‘through the middle’. Pour the shot directly through the center and don’t deviate.” You nodded wordlessly at his stern expression. As you remade the drink, you couldn’t find an explanation as to why you found him so sexy even when he was peeved.

“Okay, do you remember how to make the flat white?” You did, but you wanted him to touch you again, so you shook your head. Jungkook smiled and lead your hand holding the pitcher of milk to create the perfect flat white latte. You both held the pitcher close to the cup after pouring the espresso in first, then brought it up a few inches, then back down until a small while dot of milk formed at the center of the brown froth. Your hand felt electrically charged from the skin to skin contact, making it hard to focus on what you were doing.

“Now for the cappuccino, I’ll give you a few tries to get it right since it’s hard to nail down at first. Hold the steam above the milk for 9 seconds instead of 4 to create a lighter, foamier pitcher of milk.”

You followed his instructions and poured the shot along with the milk into the cup. Jungkook lifted the cup and instantly put it back down. “Not light enough. Again.”

Your eyebrows knotted in concentration as you began steaming a fresh cup of milk. You didn’t get the cappuccino down until the 5th pitcher of milk which slightly embarrassed you, but Jungkook was patient and tentative throughout the process. You felt gratitude at his willingness to train you so well.

“All that’s left is the americano, and that’s the easiest one of all. It’s simply shots and hot water to the top of the cup.”

“Psh, this is cake work.” You retorted cheekily, squeezing a lid onto the coffee cup and handing it to Jungkook for a taste.

“Oh yeah, hot shot?” Jungkook brought the cup to his mouth briefly and nodded in approval.

“Yeah! Where’s the real challenge? I want to make the cool drinks you do with the artwork at the top.” You decided to reward yourself with a little whipped cream for getting through the training smoothly.

Jungkook laughed heartily. “Ah, you’re a fan of my handiwork I see. Well unfortunately,” Jungkook grabbed you by the hips suddenly and sat you on top of the counter in between the espresso machines, ”That’s not something I can teach you in one day. It takes a lot of practice and patience.” Jungkook took your wrist in his hand and led your finger topped with whipped cream to his lips. Maintaining eye contact, he parted his mouth and sucked lightly on the tip of your finger, leading with his tongue. You inhaled sharply at the view; all things coffee related instantly fleeing your mind. You slid your finger out of his mouth slowly. He opened up as you ran your finger along his bottom lip. You’d never wanted a taste of whipped cream more in your life than you had at that very moment.

It seemed Jungkook was on the same page because it only took a split second before you two were all over each other. Your legs molded themselves around his midsection and your hands held his face to yours. Your heads moved together in rhythm while your lips ravaged each other. Tongue was immediately introduced, both of you having wanted to kiss each other again for so long. You couldn’t get enough, needing more and more every passing second. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smashing his body against yours as your tongues swirled together in harmonized motion. Jungkook’s hands greedily surveyed the lay of the land, first starting off on your thighs, then your mid back, and now the top of your ass. He squeezed and groped which only encouraged your need for him. You writhed against the kiss, rubbing your breasts against his chest. Jungkook pressed you into him then took you off the counter completely. You were vaguely aware of being transported as you bit and dragged out his lip. Jungkook let out a soft groan as he placed you on top of what you assumed to be Mr. Kim’s desk. Jungkook’s fingers ran up into your hair and tugged, forcing your head to the side and exposing your neck. He began trailing wet sloppy kisses down from your ear which had you shivering in excitement. You let out a low moan when he reached the base of your neck, letting him know it was a soft spot for you. You arched your back and pushed your chest in the air to which Jungkook responded by roughly groping your breasts through your button up shirt. You hissed through your teeth at the faint pleasure his movements brought you, but you still wanted more. You’d been eyeing him for months, and when you both finally took the next step, it felt like you were stuck there for far too long. If you were this addicted to his lips, there was no telling how addictive the rest of him could be, and you so badly wanted to find out.

Jungkook reattached his mouth to yours as his hands found the fleshy feel of your bra under your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, reveling in the miniscule pleasure it brought you. You reached your hands under Jungkook’s shirt, feeling his abs on the way down to his belt and pulled on it to bring him closer to you. You began unbuckling it impatiently, struggling to work the metal latch. It took Jungkook a second to respond, realizing things were moving along in full gear. He started unbuttoning your shirt with a quickness the likes of which you’d never seen before.

However, your shirt only made it just past your shoulders before you heard the familiar bell of the shop door opening. You and Jungkook froze as Hobi sauntered into the backroom. He was fully engrossed in his phone with his airpods in, but the quick movements of you and Jungkook getting redressed attracted his attention. His face morphed from surprise to sheer horror as he realized what was going on in Mr. Kim’s office in the early hours of the morning. Hobi yelped dramatically and threw his hands over his eyes, fleeing out of the office and out of the shop altogether.

Jungkook found his reaction amusing as he tucked his shirt into his pants. You, on the other hand, were so mortified and embarrassed that you couldn’t move. Your face was tomato red and you were paralyzed in horror.

Jungkook continued chuckling as he redid the buttons of your shirt. “I guess the training took longer than we thought, huh?”

You lowered your face into your hands. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Poor Hobi! He probably thinks we were in here fucking!”

“I mean…things were kind of heading in that direction…” You began beating Jungkook on the chest with your limp balled up fists which only made him laugh harder.

You didn’t feel shame about being sexually active, or being attracted to Jungkook, but rather being seen in a negative light for getting it on in an inappropriate place. Who knows what was going through Hobi’s mind at that moment? You had to do damage control, and quickly.

You hopped off the desk and exited the back room, immediately spotting your work buddy squatting on the other side of the glass. You approached him with caution, your face still blushing furiously. Hobi looked up at you with a straight face but busted out into laughter, at which point you began beating him too. You could hear Jungkook laughing harder at the spectacle going on outside, which only made your embarrassment find permanent footing.

For the rest of the day, Hobi would hand you cups with a smirk on his face and exchange meaningful glances with Jungkook here and there, reigniting your embarassment every time. You hated them so much for the rest of that entire week.

At the end of the workday on a Friday, weeks after your hookup with Jungkook in the office, you noticed a folded-up note placed on top of your belongings. You quirked your eyebrow at it then looked back out to the floor, but none of the boys were even looking in your direction. You opened it up and read Jungkook’s scrawl: Let’s chill at my house this weekend. My parents are away 😉.

Your heart instantly began beating furiously in your chest, and you quickly stuffed the receipt paper into your back pocket. You blushed as you gathered your things. The store was busy, so you weren’t able to say goodbye to Jungkook or Hobi as you exited the shop.

You contemplated what to text Jungkook when you got home. Of course, you wanted to go, but you were nervous about the entire thing. You were again reminded about how your fling was never supposed to get this far, despite your carelessness in the early morning all those weeks ago. After Hobi had caught you two in Mr.Kim’s office that day, you slowly began pulling away from Jungkook. It was so easy to get caught up in his cologne and the way his eye contact made you feel, so you needed to reign in your emotions and get a clear head before you rushed into something you couldn’t backtrack from. If you took that next step with him, there would be serious repercussions, and it seemed as though you two were headed in that direction, so you needed time to adjust. You were never able to muster up the courage to be frank with him about everything you’re feeling, so you felt as though you had no footing when it came to your relationship with him. Because of that, you weren’t sure if this meant you two would be officially dating or not, and you felt way too awkward to bring it up at this point, especially if this was all just fun and games in his head.

Your after-work routine had become second nature to you by now. As soon as your bedroom door closed behind you, the events went exactly as follows: Run the bath water as hot as possible, strip your work clothes into the laundry bin, light the vanilla candle that barely had any wax left in it, loosen the bun on your head, slowly and carefully submerge yourself in the steaming water without splashing any out of the tub.

As you laid on the porcelain, you closed your eyes and rested your head back onto the edge, contemplating Jungkook’s note. You wondered if Jungkook really hadn’t noticed you ignoring his advances this entire time. Maybe you weren’t being obvious enough? You sighed heavily and sank deeper into the tub, because that meant you would have to go over and explain why you couldn’t hook up with him despite having the perfect opportunity to do so, and you were not looking forward to that.

You remembered that Jungkook was off tomorrow, but you weren’t, and you were thankful for that. He might back you into a corner, and you needed to find the resolve somewhere inside of yourself to turn down this amazing boy. You texted him back a simple sentence: What’s your address?

Your morning Saturday shift went by way too quickly, not giving you enough time to settle your nerves. You tried to focus on work, but every once in a while, your mind would drift to what was to happen later that night. It didn’t help that there were barely any customers to keep you busy, so you were in your head the entire time. You’d never worked a Saturday before, so you didn’t know what to expect. Normally Jungkook would work Saturdays on his own. You idly wondered why today was any different.

Thankfully, Mr. Kim had opened the store with you and had tasks lined up to keep you at least a little busy. You quickly surmised that Saturdays at the coffee shop were dedicated to deep cleaning.

As you soaked the coffee pots in cleaning fluid and scrubbed the calcium buildup from the steaming nozzles, you practiced what you would say to Jungkook when he’d try to make a move. I don’t think we should keep doing this. No…that’s too serious, I don’t want to make things awkward. Listen, this is fun and all, and I appreciate you inviting me over, but I’ve given it some thought since our last hookup and I don’t want to have sex with you!

You blushed and chuckled at yourself for getting worked up at imaginary scenarios. It all felt quite silly considering you were putty in his hands anyway. Would you even have the resolve to refuse him? You knew a big part of you didn’t want to, but you knew if you didn’t then someone would end up getting hurt and you knew that person would most likely be you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself if you had to quit this super convenient job because of relationship drama. You shook your head at the thought.

As soon as your shift at the café was done, Jungkook pulled up in his car out front and beeped the horn to get your attention. He didn’t tell you he’d be picking you up, so you were caught by surprise. It also warmed you a little that he went out of his way to get you when you could’ve easily driven to him. You smiled and waved at him as you approached the car. He leaned across and pushed the door open for you.

You had planned to go home and doll yourself up a little, but this scenario was probably for the best, although you couldn’t help the relief you felt at having decided to shave the night before. You beat back the unhelpful cheeky thoughts.

“Hey you.” Jungkook took off towards his house, whistling an upbeat tune.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were picking me up, thanks!” You buckled your seat belt and sat back, but then realized this scenario was not for the best, since you wouldn’t be able to drive yourself home if things got awkward at his house. You clenched and unclenched your hands in nervousness, but Jungkook grabbed it and brought it to his mouth, gently brushing his lips on your knuckles then holding onto it for the rest of the ride. The sweet gesture calmed your nerves.

Only 15 minutes had passed by before Jungkook was pulling into a driveway that lead to the back of a big beautiful house. As you exited the car, you could already hear loud barking coming from the back door. Jungkook headed inside first, holding an overly excited golden retriever back so you could enter. The dog barked excitedly then calmed down enough to sniff your shoes. His tail wagged with an intensity that you swore was creating a draft. You extended your hand uncertainty and the dog licked it eagerly.

You giggled as you petted the animal, “I didn’t know you had a dog!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Jungkook smiled and leaned on one of the counters in his kitchen as he watched you squat to rub the dog’s neck.

“Touché.” You took a break to look around. The back door had led into a giant kitchen adorned with stainless steal appliances. You whistled at how beautiful and grand it all was. “Nice house!”

“Thanks, my parents work hard.” Jungkook busied himself on the stove. It seemed he had prepared something for you two to eat. Your stomach rumbled at the smell of peppers and onions sizzling on a pan.

“Ah, so you don’t take after them I see.”

Jungkook chuckled at your jab, “Keep talking like that and you won’t get any of this delicious food I slaved over!”

“Oh, you slaved over this meal!? I gotta see what it is then” You giggled as you uncovered each pot sitting on the stove. Your mouth watered at the assortment of noodles, meats and vegetables that smelled amazingly. “I will say, I’m impressed. I guess making drinks isn’t your only forte.”

“Oh babe, you have no idea.” Jungkook smiled cheekily, enjoying his not so private joke as he grabbed two ceramic plates from the overhead cabinet. You swallowed thickly.

Jungkook served you a hearty plate and then did the same for himself. You waited for him to finish, unsure of where to sit and eat. He led you past a dining room, down a hallway and into a big living room with large sectionals that faced a mounted television on the wall. An episode of an anime played on the screen as Jungkook plopped himself on the far end of the couch and began digging in. You were happy at how normal this all felt, almost as if you had been coming here to hang out with him for years.

You took a seat on the couch an arm’s length away from him and began eating as you focused on the show. It was an episode of One Piece that you had already seen, but it still engrossed you enough to forget about being all alone with your crush.

After a while, you looked over at Jungkook who had been observing you for who knows how long.

“What?”

“You inhale your food, you know that?” He beamed his signature crooked smile at you, and you were too caught up in it to retort.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took his empty plate and yours to the kitchen to wash, yelling over your shoulder, “I like to eat, OK?! Sue me!”

You didn’t hear Jungkook’s footsteps following you as you washed the plates in the sink. His arms snaked around your midsection and his chin rested on your shoulder which startled you enough to drop the plate you were scrubbing. Thankfully it didn’t break, so you kept doing the dishes as you willed your heart to stop drumming in your ears.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do all that. You’re my guest.” Jungkook spoke softly next to your ear as he watched you rinse his plate.

“I don’t mind, you cooked after all. It was delicious by the way.” Your voice was small in the quiet of the kitchen.

After a while, Jungkook brought his hand up to your chest and rested it there. “Why are you so nervous? Your heart is beating really fast.”

You blushed and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. Jungkook gently turned you around as soon as you put the plate on the dish rack. You looked up at him, but his eyes were focused on your mouth. He leaned into you, but instead of kissing you, he brushed his nose against the tip of yours.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. I just wanted to hang out with you. There’s no pressure here, OK?” You nodded at him, unable to meet his eyes but instead wishing he had kissed you. “Want a tour?” Jungkook smiled widely and it was infectious because you found yourself grinning back at him while nodding.

The curly haired brunette took you through each room of his spacious house. He led you around the first floor, explaining which family member was in each framed picture that lined the walls. You giggled at a cute picture of him as a baby hung just past the bathroom and you could swear Jungkook blushed just a little at your reaction. Once you had seen everything on the first floor, the boy took you by the hand and led you up the stairs. The second floor had 3 bedrooms in it and another bathroom. Taped up cardboard boxes lined the walls to which Jungkook apologized for. You rolled your eyes at him because his house was impeccable. If he thinks this is messy, I’m never taking him to my house.

The last room Jungkook showed you was his own. He waited at the entrance of it as you bounded past him and into the room. It heavily contrasted the other rooms you had seen since it was smaller in size and had dark blue painted walls instead of the usual ivory. Sports trophies and metals sat perched atop floating shelves along with manga books and video games. You took your time going through everything as he watched you carefully from afar. Once you reached his desk, you noticed his high-tech gaming setup complete with a back-support chair. You plopped on it and spun around. Reaching out to touch a button on the keyboard, it made a loud click noise. Mechanical keyboard.

You looked back at Jungkook. His expression was wary, having no idea what was going through your head as you studied the most personal things about him.

“Mechanical keyboard hooked up to a Corsair desktop with liquid coolant? Jungkook, you’re such a nerd!!” He let out the breath he was holding and laughed as he came in to sit on his bed.

“I won’t deny it.” Jungkook watched as you surfed his computer, checking what games he had downloaded. This setup cost a couple thousand dollars easily, so you took the opportunity to play a game of Overwatch while you could. Jungkook tisked after every time you died, but it was hard to focus on the game when he was sitting 2 feet away from you on a bed. You wondered if he was going to make a move on you or not. What if he doesn’t? You contemplated having the conversation with him anyway.

“Okay, get up. You just put my gamer tag to shame. I have to show you how a true master does it.” You giggled as he replaced you on the chair and instantly queued up for another game. You sat cross legged on the bed watching him play for a while. He was really good, you couldn’t deny it, but as your eyes took in the rest of his room, an alien feeling came over you. You gazed at the polaroids of a younger Jungkook smiling amongst his friends hanging along a large mirror, at his worn-out baseball glove that sat on top of his dresser, at the mess of clothes at the corner of the room that looked like he had changed outfits 6 times. Your heart was full in that moment, and you realized just how much you really liked Jungkook. You were so happy to be there with him, so content in his presence even as he was engrossed in his game. No, you more than liked him. And you knew this for months, but you didn’t want to admit it to yourself until now. You smiled down at your lap, realizing you were never going to have that conversation with him after all, there was no way you could part ways with someone that made you feel the way that he did, risk or no risk.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, you looked back at Jungkook who was hunched over the screen, furiously clicking away at the keys on the keyboard. In one swift motion, you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it on the floor. You took your hair out of the bun it had been in and let your strands fall over your shoulders. Jungkook looked over his shoulder at you briefly but did a double-take, realizing you were suddenly sitting on his bed with no shirt on. His mouth fell open in shock, but he didn’t miss a beat, instantly standing up to turn off his desktop and joining you on the bed. He placed a knee on the mattress next to you and leaned over you, attaching his lips to yours. You leaned back until you were laying on the bed with Jungkook on top of you. He held his weight on his elbows, careful not to be overbearing, but you didn’t care about that. You wanted to feel him on you, so you wrapped your legs around his waist and brought him to you. His arms rested on either side of your head as his lips worked gently and tentatively on your mouth. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, but after a while your hands began roaming and exploring. Your fingers took turns entwining themselves in his shiny brown locks, then caressing his face as you made out. Eventually, they reached for the bottom of his shirt, but he was already ahead of you as he kneeled briefly to take it off then reattached himself to your lips right after.

Your fingers began kneading the muscles on his shoulders and his arms, feeling how taught they were. Your fingertips lightly slid down his chest and onto the flat expanse of his stomach. You felt his abs twitch as he smiled into the kiss, “Sorry, your hands are cold.”

You giggled an I’m sorry as he took hold of both of your hands in his and held them above your head on the bed, pinning you down. You wanted to keep touching him, so you writhed against his hold on you, pushing your chest into his. You could feel Jungkook’s boner where it lay stiffly on your thigh just past your sex. You circled your hips trying to get it to hit the spot that needed attention. Jungkook understood what you were after and began bucking his hips sensually into yours. You moaned into the kiss, feeling his clothed shaft press harshly against the apex of your thighs. Jungkook lifted his face away from yours, dragging your bottom lip out as he did. He held both of your hands with his right, freeing his left to begin groping your breasts. His hands worked their magic over the lacey fabric of your bra, your nipples hardening just under the material. When he didn’t unhook your bra, you sat up and did it yourself. You realized he was probably letting you take the wheel after what he had said in the kitchen, so you decided to do just that. You got up on your knees and pushed Jungkook onto the bed, mounting him and putting your hands on his chest.

A wild glint shown in his eyes, to which you smiled and bit your lip, returning to his face to continue making out. You began circling your hips, grinding your clit against his boner and earning some groans from the boy. You sat up so you could watch his face as you continued grinding on him. His hands came up to your hips and held onto them roughly with his head thrown back in pleasure.

Your hands found the rim of his pants and began tugging. Jungkook lifted his hips so you could pull them down. You slid his pants to his ankles and he kicked them off. Your mouth watered as you stared down at the view beneath you. Jungkook’s chest heaved as he regained his breath from making out nonstop. His tan abs dipped below the waistband of his black boxer briefs that stretched tautly over his muscular thighs. Jungkook sat up on his elbows, looking up at you expectantly. You looked back at him and maintained eye contact as you slowly slid your jeans off of your body. Jungkook bit his lip as he watched you undressed for him. His dick twitched in his boxers, begging for attention. You quickly obliged, squeezing his boner with your hand over his boxers. He hissed and laid back down, draping his arm over his eyes. You wondered if he was shy when it came to sex, and the thought had your heart bursting at the seams.

You leaned down and licked a stripe over his clothed shaft, earning a gasp from the boy. You drenched the fabric in your saliva as you stared intently at Jungkook who had sat back up to look at you in surprise. You curled your fingers over the waistband and watched him for approval. He lifted his hips with permission as you slid the material off of him. His boner sprang free, leaking and angry. You licked your lips, gently taking hold of it. You swept your hair to the side and tucked a few loose strands behind your ear as you leaned in to get close to his penis. You gave it a few lazy strokes as you gently kissed the tip. Again, you watched for his reaction, and he assured you he wanted this just as much as you did when he bucked his hips at your mouth’s proximity to his member. You smiled at how excited he seemed, licking another strip up his shaft and leaving a wet streak from bottom to top. Jungkook hissed again, wearing his bottom lip out with his teeth. Once your tongue reached the top, you took his head into your mouth, curling your lips over your teeth and letting it rest on your circling tongue. Inch by inch, you took him into you keeping your mouth tight around him. Jungkook gaped as your nose furrowed itself in his pubic hair. You came up slowly, sucked the top a bit then went down again. Jungkook laid back down, enveloped in absolute pleasure. His hands found themselves in your hair, eventually holding your head in place so he could buck into you. As Jungkook fucked your mouth, you couldn’t help the drool that spilled from your lips and dripped down his member, further lubricating him and creating sloppy wet sounds each time he entered and exited your mouth. Jungkook’s expression became focused and borderline angry with his eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure and concentration. You noted how deliciously vocal he was with his consistent moaning and groaning filling the air. You could feel yourself getting increasingly wet at the view and the sounds before you.

After a while, Jungkook slowed and then took himself out of your mouth. His penis was dripping wet and even more red than it was before. You wiped your mouth with your thumb as he stroked himself lazily. Jungkook tore his eyes away from you briefly to rummage through his nightstand for a condom. You busied yourself with getting rid of your underwear. Feeling your sex yearning for attention as he struggled to find a condom, you mounted his midsection again and sat directly on top of his penis. Slowly, you began moving your hips back and forth. You slid easily along his shaft with the lubrication of your spit that hadn’t dried yet. You moaned lightly, feeling some pleasure from your movements. Jungkook stilled as he felt your pussy getting so close to enveloping him. He held your hip with one hand and clutched the condom in the other. His eyebrows knit together as he hesitated before leading your hips back and forth once more. Your moans and his groans filled the room in unison. Your wetness coated his dick, further exciting him.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re such a bad influence.” Jungkook’s voice shook and you smiled, realizing how fucked out he was, but you were too, maybe even more. Jungkook watched you excitedly as you took hold of the base of his penis and line him up with your entrance. He tossed the condom to the side and helped guide his penis into you. You both moaned loudly as he slipped inside of you easily. You quivered at the feeling of being so full. When you tried to move, Jungkook held you in place and you realized he was trying not to bust right then and there. You smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, deciding to give him a break so he could calm down. You kissed him passionately as he cupped your face between his large veiny hands. After a while, his hands traveled down to your ass and squeezed them hard. You responded by tightening around him. He began easing himself in and out of you, holding your cheeks apart so he could eventually slam into you repeatedly. You moaned loudly into his mouth at the sudden pleasure that overtook you. Jungkook moved his head back to disconnect your lips and watch your face as you moaned. You sat up and began bouncing on his dick wildly. Jungkook moved his hands to your breasts when he noticed them bouncing with each rough hip thrust. You steadied yourself by placing your hands on his lower stomach and threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

You took the opportunity of Jungkook eventually taking a break to begin circling your hips with him inside. Surely enough, the head of his penis found your g spot and you began moaning carelessly again. He watched as you got yourself off on top of him, reveling in the view of you letting your inhibitions go. Jungkook watched you intently you got closer and closer to reaching your high. Your hips quickened in pace then suddenly stopped as your toes curled and your walls pulsed around him. You keeled over on top of him, feeling every inch of your skin breaking out in goosebumps. You laid your head in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily. Jungkook moved your hair out of the way then kissed your forehead. You chuckled out of breath before speaking, “Fuck, Jungkook.”

Swiftly and effortlessly, Jungkook flipped you so that he was now on top. Jungkook decided to give you a break as he focused his attention on your breasts. He pinched and pulled on your nipples, sending tiny shocks down to your sensitive core each time. He brought his tongue to one and began licking and sucking, then did the same to the other. You scratched his head idly, appreciating the way he took his time with you.

Jungkook began kissing upwards on your chest, all the way up to your mouth and kissed you intimately. The kiss was deep and slow, without tongue this time, and it took your breath away. You had to hold back a moan at how sweet the kiss was. You never wanted it to end, but when his hand traveled down towards your sex, you knew you were ready for more. Jungkook sat back and slapped your clit with his dick before easing himself inside of you once more. You were still slick from your orgasm and it had Jungkook closing his eyes in pleasure. You shivered and pulled Jungkook back onto you again to feel his warmth on you. Slowly yet steadily, he began moving in and out of you as he laid on top of you. His arms caged your head in as he began kissing you sweetly again. This time you did moan, and it seemed to egg Jungkook on, but he didn’t want to ruin the romanticism in that moment, so he continued his slow place and focused on your mouth. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and began circling around yours sloppily. You opened your mouth fully, willing to take anything and everything. It all felt so good and so surreal, you could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter, and you knew he could too with the way he began growling.

“Fuck, Y/N” You could only moan your answer as you both instantly felt the need to fuck hard. Jungkook lifted himself up just enough as he sped up and begin pounding into you roughly, holding your hips in place as he did. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he fucked the living soul out of you. Eventually, he sat back and held your legs wide open as his dick entered and exited you relentlessly. Your moans grew so loud, you were sure it could be heard from outside, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to keep fucking you forever, but your body had other plans. It didn’t take long for the familiar blooming in your lower stomach to begin making your toes curl again and your back arch. With his hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead and a look of concentration, Jungkook looked into your eyes while you stared back at him with your mouth agape. “You gonna come for me again?” Jungkook’s words were tight and stern which only made you moan more.

“Fuck, yes, yes, I-I am. Fuuuuck Jungkook!” Your second orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. You stared up at the ceiling as the familiar warm feeling spread to your extremities.

“That’s it baby, c’mon.” Jungkook fucked you through your orgasm as your walls spasmed around him. As you lay on the bed exhausted and reeling, he quickly pulled out of you and pumped himself a few times, spurting cum all over your stomach. Jungkook groaned loudly as the ropes of hot white liquid shot out of him. You were too spent to look, instead feeling the burning sensation of each drop landing on your moist skin.

As he milked the last of his cum out of his dick, you looked at your stomach covered in white and laughed breathlessly. “Jesus Jungkook, empty your balls once in a while.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ve been busy.” Jungkook laughed breathlessly along with you, running his fingers through his sweaty hair. He got up from the bed and returned with baby wipes. You cleaned yourself up and tossed the soiled wipes in a nearby trashcan.

Making space for him on the bed, Jungkook laid down next to you. Neither of you said anything for a while, choosing instead to look up at the ceiling as your breathing evened out. You began breaking out in goosebumps at the feeling of being naked without a blanket over you. As if on cue, Jungkook pulled the covers up over the both of you. You turned to the side in contentment. Jungkook spooned you and wrapped his arm around you, making it easy for the both of you to drift to sleep.

In the middle of the night, you woke him up for another round, but this time it was him who was giving you oral, and just as with all else, he was extremely generous.

Monday came and went without any sign of Jungkook at work. When you showed up on Tuesday morning and he was absent again, you pouted, wondering what was going on. After the morning rush, you decided to mention it to Hobi at the risk of sounding clingy.

You watched your friend wipe down the counters before clearing your throat. “It’s not like Jungkook to miss two days of work in a row. I wonder if he’s okay…”

Hobi stilled his hand on the rag and looked at you in confusion.

“…What?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering why he was starting to look so surprised. It seemed like he was trying to find the right words with which to respond. “Spit it out Hobi! You’re worrying me.” You couldn’t help the bad feeling that fell over you as you watched Hoseok fully turn to you with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/N…didn’t Jungkook tell you?”

“…Tell me what? Ugh Hobi just say it!” You bit your lip anxiously. Hoseok rubbed his neck, mimicking your anxiety.

“Y/N…Jungkook’s last day was Friday. He moved to Connecticut with his family this past Sunday…” You stared at your friend in disbelief, waiting for the punchline that never came.

You chuckled nervously. “Hobi…what are you talking about? I was just with him and-“ The memory of all the boxes around his house flashed in your mind and made the rest of your sentence die in your throat.

Hobi looked at you with pity in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you two were close. I figured you already knew. I wonder why he didn’t say anything…” When you didn’t offer him a response, he resumed cleaning the counters and gave you a much needed moment to process everything.

You sagged against the register and stared into the backroom at Jungkook’s deserted cubby, unable to believe the sudden news. Why wouldn’t he say goodbye? Your first instinct was to feel betrayed and used. You opened yourself up to him and took the risk of falling, and he wasn’t going to be there to catch you after all. But you knew you couldn’t blame him entirely, since the ball had been in your court the entire time.

After a couple minutes of silence, a group of customers walked in, so you tore yourself away from the backroom and focused on them, willing your tears not to fall, and they didn’t, at least not until you got into the bathtub later that day. Turns out, you had been Jungkook’s replacement.

[bonsai62]

Part 1: The Compatibility between Pisces and Capricorn

Hello everyone! Today, since I am hella bored and have nothing to do this fine evening, I am going to talk about the relationship between our two boys; Yuji and Megumi and how much they represent their signs so much.

Before I get started, I am not going to talk about their sex life even though it’s kinda important if you are into astrology, however, for this case I won’t because both of them are minors. But if you want to read more about their comparability then be my guess and look at the underline links. I will provide links in the discussion so you can have a better understanding on how the signs are and use manga pages for you to visually see it.

Also, excuse my English. I am very bad at it! Even though it’s my first language I still have lots of errors in my writing!

Also beware of manga spoilers too!!

Let’s get started on this very long essay!

Traits of a Pisces: Itadori Yuji

Positive: Compassionate (top), empathetic (middle), & creative (bottom)

We also have: Warm/gentle, caring, intellectual, animal lover, and romantic

Here we have the positive side of a Pisces and let me tell you it screams Yuji so damn much. Yuji is such a compassionate guy. I don’t think I have never seen a character who is very compassionate like Yuji (I have but we are talking about Yuji here lol). He can empathize with a whole lot of people and no matter what the situation is he understands. Yuji doesn’t need to have the same experience as someone because he can feel and get in their head to make him understand what their going through. Which brings me to that he has a really high empathy level when it comes to people (I can relate a lot because I have the same thing). However, having a lot of empathy isn’t all that’s cracked up to be but I’ll talk about it soon.

A Pisces is also very creative and they love hobbies. One of Yuji’s favorite hobbies is, I have a feeling is sports but that just based on what his old school thought of him + the baseball game. Plus cooking! Cooking is an amazing hobby and it lets you get creative with your hands and skills! I like to imagine that he is the best cook throughout the school and loves to share with his classmates and have them rate his cooking lol! Cooking is also a relief of stress so I can also imagine him having a bad day and just ends up being in the kitchen.

Now....

Negative: Overly emotional (top), impressionable (bottom), closed off (middle)

I messed up the order lol

We also have: melancholy, lazy, stubborn, moodiness, etc

Yuji is a very emotional person. We have seen him at his best and at his worse. He is such an emotional person that he felt bad for killing Choso’s brothers. His emotions gets the best of him when Junpei died, Megumi was hurt, seeing what Sukuna has done in Shibuya, and Nanamin/Nobara getting destroyed by Mahito. It’s an unhealthy feeling because we’ve seen Yuji get distracted with his injured friends and him kinda fucking up on his fighting. Another unhealthy trait that Yuji had is not talking about himself. We’ve seen him not talk about his feelings and I mean personal deep feelings that’s always going to be in the back of his head. Like when Megumi knows that something happened to Yuji but Yuji simple doesn’t want to talk about and closes it. He doesn’t really like talking about himself and rather hear other people/helping other people rather than face his own demons. If he’s facing his own demons, he rather be doing it on his own.

I also want to point out that many people think that he gets over people’s death hella easily. No... that is not true whatsoever. The boy has been through so much trauma that eventually you just get so tired of crying about it and you don’t have the energy anymore, you eventually start telling yourself “it is what it is” or “what can I do now?”. Noabra is a perfect example. He didn’t need to cry because he had the biggest mental breakdown when it happened. So when he asked Megumi about her status... he just had to say “alright”.

In my theories... she is definitely alive. Again, Gege is playing half of you guys. She is gonna pop out in the next couple of chapters or even the one coming up next.

Another things that I find interesting in Yuji which according to the links I put, Pisces tend to trust people easily:

Ease of being cheated: A desire to see the best things in other people makes the Two Fish very impressionable individuals. They trust others without any suspicions and often suffer from their frivolity. Any pressure of stronger people is accepted as a command for them and they easily agree with them without any doubts.

For instant, Todo and Choso. Those two mf were about to kill him but they didn’t because of what Yuji’s mind fuck did (I know Gege sensei said that isn’t a theory but still it’s mind fuck lol) He instantly call Todo his best friend like I can hear Nobara (Big sis) twitching somewhere lol. Whenever I think of Yuji and Todo’s relationship, I think of Vinny and Paula D from Jersey Shore haha!

Any who, while trusting people isn’t a bad thing, you still don’t know what their intentions are and everything. It’s a very naive thing to do.

But I felt for Yuji and Choso... Yuji didn’t have much of a choice...

I would like to know what changed Yuji’s mind into staying with Choso. I’m curious how Yuji “trusted” being with Choso after everything that went down. Yuji is a very forgiving character too (minus Mahito). But now, I think we can see that Choso has no bad intentions towards Yuji because he “might” be his brother. And their so cute too!!

On to our other boy!

Traits of a Capricorn: Megumi Fushiguro

Positive: Resourcefulness (top), discipline/patient (middle: also thank @pantherbeamish for the photos!), and reliability (bottom)

We also have: Responsibility, loyalty, diligence, team player, etc

Megumi is a very interesting character. Whenever I see him I get more interested in him. He is exactly what you would describe a Capricorn. We have seen Megumi be resourceful when it comes understanding how curse energy works thanks to him. He is very detailed when it comes to explaining and also a very patient man when Yuji, who doesn’t know jack shit about the Jujutsu world. Never, not once, does Megumi call Yuji an idiot for not knowing all these things. That’s what makes him amazing because if it were other Shonen mangas, the “rival” would’ve called Yuji an idiot. The only time Megumi ever calls Yuji an idiot is when Yuji literally does or says something stupid. To me, that is normal and not being a dick about it because we all know that if we had a friend like Yuji we would’ve stared at him like “why are you like this...”

It’s me... I’m a lot like Yuji lol

But no, he is very patient and tries to explain everything to Yuji as best as he can. I have this thing where almost everyone relies on Megumi a lot because he’s a serious guy + very responsible with his tasks. We see Maki trusting Megumi too. Like the time when Megumi was hyping Yuji up saying he can beat everyone in the Kyoto school if they didn’t use curse energy (something like that lol). Yuji also can confirm himself that Megumi is very reliable. He mentioned it while back at the prison because both sibling duo thought they were lost.

Negative: Sensitivity (top), seriousness (middle), reservation (bottom)

We also have: Unforgiving, criticism, suspicion, pickiness, etc

Just like Yuji, we have seen Megumi’s negative side a lot but it’s simply because he’s sensitive and thinks logically. Sometimes, I also feel like he thinks through his heart as well but that’s just me. That is where the sensitivity comes along. Megumi is hella sensitive he doesn’t need to show it because you can feel it.

In the article:

Sensitivity: It is better not to offend Capricorns who are very sensitive people. They can’t stand being laughed at and remain serious in public but feel badly deeply in their souls. Even a minor joke can result in resentment from their side!

In many, many occasions we have seen everyone fucking around or getting on Megumi’s nerves, especially in our recent Jujustroll where Gojo is saying a bunch of nonsense and embarrassing tf out of Megumi. His seriousness gets in the way and that’s what makes him sensitive.

On the side note: I also wanted to add something. As I was reading a few articles, some mentioned that Capricorns are... bland. Please, Capricorns!! No me ataques! I just find it interesting that someone, like Todo, who thinks Megumi is boring. Todo honestly thought he was boring since he first asked him what was his type and while Megumi gave us the best answer, Todo expected something more fun. But no, it was boring. Also, Megumi lives a simple life. Now, I’m not saying that Megumi is boring because as a matter of fact I like how simple he is. He likes to keep things neutral. Personally, on his activities he is considered “bland” and honestly, I can see why but I would still go out my way to enjoy it with him if I was his significant other lol I also feel like he has a good sense of style in fashion. I’m saying that judging from the official arts + “Lost In Paradise” because in that ED Megumi be looking like a bowl of fruits. A bowl of snacks lmao!

But, anyways! Megumi is also reserved to himself. He does not like talking about himself at all (hon hon does that sound like someone?). He doesn’t open up to a lot of people but I kinda feel like he does with Gojo but that’s just because Gojo raised him and he just knows when Megumi is feeling a certain way. Also, I bet Gojo just knows when Megumi is having a bad day too. We witnessed him just being in his own bubble in the current arc that is happened in the anime. Yuji and Nobara calls him out about him being so reserved to himself. He does eventually tells them what is going on, but it takes a lot for a Capricorn to open up and it’s totally understandable. I feel as if you want a Capricorn to open up, you have to let them give you time for them to get to know you. Give them your intentions and put in the effort to make them trust you.

Now in to the fun part!!

1. Trust:

Positive:

Articles 1: They will often understand each other well enough to respect their relationship and keep it clear of dishonesty

I’m a use this imagine again btw because this speaks their relationship clearly

I think what I truly love about their relationship and love the idea of them being an endgame is the trust that they have for one another(even though someone is gonna die). They barely knew each other for 2 months and their chemistry is off the mf charts.

The picture above isn’t just them having an eye opening moment but the fact that they trust each other to save one another.

Megumi had saved Yuji so many time

Yuji had also saved Megumi so many times

Tbh, when I was thinking about Megumi coming in to save Yuji from Yuuta and Naoya, I thought it would be the same as when Yuji saved Megumi and Maki from Hanami, but we got something better. We got to see Megumi never doubting Yuji and always making sure that he gives him as many chances as he gives. I hope that sparks a realization for Yuji because sometimes I always felt that he doesn’t really acknowledges Megumi doing a whole lotta things for Yuji. I’m still complaining about it because if he can say “thank you, best friend” to Todo or “thank you, Kugisaki, for letting me know that I am not alone” to Nobara, then he should definitely see how much Megumi gives a fuck about him.

I expect a “thank for being by my side and never doubting me” for Megumi.

Articles 2: Pisces, who prefers to hand off important decision-making to dominant Capricorn, feeds into the goat’s need to be in control. On the flip side, Capricorn trusts Pisces to attend to its emotional needs—something that can be very difficult to allow at first.

This is interesting because a lot of the time Megumi is always making the plans and the choices. I feel like Yuji tends to rely on Megumi a lot because Yuji respects the way Megumi thinks (I’m not saying he doesn’t do that with anyone either).

Another thing is that:

“Capricorn trust Pisces to attend to its emotional needs-something that can be very difficult to allow at first”

I want to use Yuji asking Yuuta to kill him if Sukuna comes out especially for Megumi’s sake as an example of “emotional needs” because we see that Yuji does not want to be anywhere near Megumi because of Sukuna. In Yuji’s emotional state, he would rather have Yuuta kill him than Megumi. A lot of people also have this head canon that the reason why he asked Yuuta to kill him instead of Megumi is because Megumi already has a lot on his plate or something. I forgot the theory lol

But... I have a feeling that Megumi is gonna end up killing Yuji at the end because it should be him...

But yes,

Let’s see where things end with the current event that is happening now.

But unfortunately, I have to stop right here because Tumblr only allows 10 images in one post. Tragic!

I do hope you guys enjoy and please comment if I’m missing anything with them! Let’s hope I won’t take long with part 2 because I’m hella busy at times! Overall, tell me what you guys think!

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #20: My Turn: Mirio Togata

In which Mirio’s got a game for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged up characters, fingering, teasing, edging, tears, Mirio trying his hardest not to be a sunshine boi and only sort of failing

Notes: See? See? I can do thirst. I can make it SEXY. Today’s prompt was “Edging” and I just loved the thought of Mirio trying his best to be a little kinky for you. He’s definitely got a filthy side. 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s a windy Saturday night in November and you’re curled in bed early with Mirio. Raindrops roll along the bias of your windowpane and the wind howls past your upper-level apartment.

But you don’t feel an ounce of cold, with Mirio- warm like the hearth- stretched out next to you. You’ve been like this all day, in and out of bed with episodes of a fluffy sitcom playing constantly in the background.

Now, though, as the chill of the evening’s pushed you closer together, your hands are starting to wander. It’s lazy at first- his rough palm up the edge of your thigh, your fingers dancing along his bicep. You’re easing into one another, and though you can feel the warm apex of where you’ll end up drawing near, you’re in no rush to get there.

Not yet, anyway. You’re about to eat those words.

“Princess,” he croons in your ear, drawing his lips up the side of your neck, “play a game with me?”

“Okay,” you giggle back as warmth blooms across your skin, following the path of his mouth. “But you picked Bananagrams last time, so this time I get to pick. Scrabble.”

He chuckles low and warm into your shoulder. Just the reaction you were hoping for. But he knows you’ve caught on, so he doesn’t even offer you a response. His mood has completely shifted.

That’s what you love so much about him.

“I wanna see how long you can last,” he murmurs. His fingers continue to trace up and down your thigh, as if he’s coaxing you around to the idea. But to you, it sounds like you’re going to get to do a whole lot of nothing while Mirio does his best to please you.

You don’t need any more coaxing than that.

“Like, without coming?” You hum, shifting a little so you can get a proper look at his face. He flicks his eyes up to yours, looking a little sheepish, but sure.

“Yeah. Y’know. I wanna test your stamina.”

You’re not exactly sure how to tell him that stamina isn’t a problem for you. He’s certainly never fallen short of satisfying you, but most of your sex life has been characterised by getting there in the first place, let alone measuring how long it takes you. You’ve never really had to hold out before- at least, not like he has.

This is going to be a cinch for you.

“Alright.” You smirk, but he’s one step ahead of you, already sliding his hand to your belly and starting to inch it toward the bottom of your shirt. You’ve got a flannel buttoned over your shoulders to keep the chill out, but it’s your day off and there’s no possible way he could have convinced you to wear pants.

Not that he’d tried.

He dips his face into your neck again, starting to kiss and lave his tongue over your delicate skin. You lean into the sensation eagerly, letting your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work their way toward the apex of your thighs.

The laugh track sounds quietly from the television as you let yourself relax. Mirio’s fingers are chilled as they dip into the hem of your panties, but he’s thrilled by the opportunity to pay you this kind of attention. He’s always so eager to get his hands on you. And you’re hardly ever in a position to deny him.

“I knew you were holdin’ out on me, princess,” he chuckles as his middle finger curls against your slit. You’re already growing wet with the anticipation of his touch, the shivers that his attentive mouth sent over your skin. He turns your chin with his free hand and drops a lazy kiss to your lips. All the while, he continues to gently explore your folds, working you open for him.

As he draws his wrist up to search for the swell of your clit, you’re starting to wonder if you do need to worry about your stamina. He’s barely touched you and already you’re starting to get those lovely little twinges of pleasure that have your hips twitching beneath his touch.

He grins, pulling his mouth teasingly from yours. “You’re gonna tell me if you’re about to cum, right?”

You never realized that his game was going to come with so many rules. But you know your own body- you’re more than ready to follow them.

“In that case, you might want to slow down, baby,” you breathe. Mirio laughs, nuzzling your neck and breathing hot puffs of air across your skin. The pad of his middle finger centers on your clit and he starts to circle in earnest.

“I could,” he quips, “or I could make it harder on you.”

His wrist flicks deftly back and forth between your legs. There’s something about the spot he’s found that’s tantalizingly perfect, and you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach. You purse your lips tightly, ready to ride that wave.

“Ooh,” you sigh, gripping Mirio’s thigh hard. “I’m close, baby.”

“That so?” He grunts in your ear. There’s an unfamiliar edge to his tone, but you don’t pick up on it yet.

“Yeah,” you whine, and he pulls his hand clean out of your panties. Your hips arch as you give a sullen little whimper. Immediately, you turn to face him.

“Why’d you stop?”

Mirio’s grinning. Normally, that grin sets you at ease. But there’s something about it today that sends a spike of nerves through your belly. He’s planning something.

You’re not sure you want to know what it is. You’re also not sure he’s going to give you a choice in the matter.

“I didn’t want the game to be over so soon, princess. C’mere.”

He slips a beefy arm around your waist and tugs you easily into his lap, situating you between his splayed thighs and letting you lean back against his chest. From there, he digs his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugs them down your thighs, helping you kick them off.

“Just relax,” he croons. “Watch TV. I gotcha.”

He brings his fingers to your pussy again, this time sliding his other hand under your thigh to join. He sinks two thick fingers into your slit, rubbing tight circles into your clit again. It doesn’t take you long at all to reach the edge. Before you can even warn him this time, Mirio stops again.

“Mirio,” you plead softly, but he’s still chuckling and nuzzling you, over and over again.

“You’re so cute when you want something from me. C’mon, let’s go again.”

He brings you to the edge one more time like that, pushing you so close you can practically taste the relief. When he pulls away for the third time, you’re squirming and fussing in between his legs.

“Let me cum,” you whimper. You’re not even proud about asking for it anymore. He shifts, crawling out from behind you and easing you onto your back.

“Don’t worry,” he continues. “I gotcha, princess. You think I’m gonna leave you high and dry?”

You glare daggers up at him, and he just shoots you an easy wink as he slips between your thighs.

“You’re getting tender down here,” he purrs, nosing his way up your inner thigh as he settles onto his belly. “Y’almost ready for me?”

“I was ready for you weeks ago,” you grumble. You can’t stay angry for long when he puffs hot air over your clit, then drags his tongue along the folds of your pussy and swirls.

He eats you out like a man starved, holding your hips taught against his mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. When you’re sure you can’t take any more, he lifts his chin, tonguing the swell of your clit and making you scream.

But he still doesn’t let you go. He pulls back from your pussy as you start to tremble, and when he does you let out a sob of such frustration that, when you open your eyes, his brow is creased with legitimate concern.

“Why won’t you let me cum?” You blubber.

“Aw, man.” Mirio stretches out next to you and pulls you into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, princess, I-I just wanted to try something new with you. I-I thought…”

“Please,” you sniffle, “please, Mirio, just fuck me, before I do it myself.”

He pauses and looks down at you in shock. For a moment, his eyes search yours. Then he breaks down, grinning fondly at you.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Alright.”

He gets back between your legs, shucking his boxer-briefs and quickly stripping out of his t-shirt. As soon as he’s bare you can see how much he’s been enjoying your little game. His cock is already rock solid, flushed and curving perfectly towards his belly.

“God,” he sighs, casting a gaze over your desperate form. “Look at you.”

He pushes your flannel up around your chest, exposing your ribcage and your chest.  His thumbs strum your nipples. Then he grips your hips, positioning himself and easing smoothly into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows. Utter bliss.

But you can’t trust this pleasure.

He starts rocking his hips forward, undulating into you with dull cries of you’re so tight for me, princess, and I can’t believe you made it this far.

You don’t last much longer than that.

As soon as he settles into a familiar rhythm, the slap of his body against yours is enough to push you precariously close. You squirm underneath him, doing your best to hold out.

“Miri…Mirio, c-can I…” you choke, peering up at him as he continues to fuck you diligently.

“Of course, princess, shit,” he sighs, buckling over you. “Let go for me. Please. I wanna see it.”

The build-up has been immense. And the fall does not disappoint. You tumble over the edge like an avalanche, seizing hard around him as you grip his hips tightly with your trembling thighs. Your back pulls clean off the bed.

Your vision goes white.

When the spots clear he’s panting above you, his cock already going soft inside you. But you don’t care. He made good on his promise- you are neither high nor dry.

“There you go,” he coos, pressing tender kisses across your collar bones and down your shoulders. “That’s it. God, you’re so pretty when you’re coming your brains out.”

You muster a weak chuckle, pulling him into your arms as he collapses beside you. The TV is still playing, and you slowly settle back into watching together as you bask in the afterglow of Mirio’s vicious game.

“So that was… okay, in the end,” he finally says, tracing a fingertip down the buttons of your flannel as you tug the warm fabric back into place.

“Yeah,” you agree sleepily. “It was fun.”

“So we can do it again sometime?” He quips carefully. You purse your lips, pretending to mull it over.

“Sure.”

He bolts upright. “Really?”

You pillow your arms behind your head and smirk.

“Yeah. Only next time it’s my turn.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Maternity Leave

The fifth part to Get Your Fix

Masterlist

Special credit to @sherrybaby14​ who requested the idea for the first part.

Warnings: non/dubcon sex, sex pollen, breeding kink, mentions of birth control, forced pregnancy.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: So this is the final part of this series BUT because it is crossing over with Heart-Shaped Box, we will see our reader again through that as well as in a possible epilogue depending on how it all unfolds. I’ll be working on HSB for tomorrow hopefully! So enjoy. Another ticked off the list.

Let me know what you think with a reblog or reply if you can! <3

It was the day after your birthday. You were sat in the busy restaurant, the dulcet tones of jazz buzzed below the voices of patrons. Steve made certain you were early; enough that your reservation had yet to be prepared for you. Nearly a dozen seats set aside for your party. Your chest filled with dread as you looked at the empty chairs.

You jiggled your leg nervously. You played with the skirt of your dress and ignored the man beside you. You had tried on several outfits before you dared to leave your apartment. You were starting to notice the subtle rounding of your stomach and your breast were terribly swollen. While the sickness had finally relented, it had been replaced by an intense hunger; one which had you nibbling on the breadsticks greedily.

“Remember, proteins,” Steve chided as he slipped his arm over the back of your chair. “And drink lots of water.”

You dropped the last half of your bread stick and glared at him. You reached for your water and drank deeply. You set it down and crossed your arms as you turned away from him. His hand slipped onto your shoulder and he leaned in.

“I’m just looking out for you and the baby,” He intoned. “Please, don’t be like this in front of everyone.”

“Like what?” You snapped at him. 

“I understand, your body is changing,” His other hand went to your thigh. “Hormones… but it’s for the better.”

“Stop touching me,” You hissed.

“What?” He scoffed as he squeezed your leg. “I can’t knock you up again.”

“Oh, shut up,” You elbowed him away and grabbed the bread stick. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your mom?” He asked suddenly. “You should see her more often don’t you think? Especially now with the baby…”

“Are you threatening me?” You turned on him and swallowed your mouthful.

“Not you,” He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “I only wanna keep you safe. You and the baby.”

“You-- Don’t you ever.” Your nostrils flared as you jabbed the piece of bread towards him. “That is my mother--”

“And I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful grandmother,” He smirked. “But I can’t have anyone around my child who I can’t trust.”

“You’re sick,” You shook your head, “You really are.”

“I think you like it,” His hand wandered to your thigh again. 

You went stiff but didn’t push him away. It was better to ignore him. He seemed to thrive on your spite. Besides, you were more concerned about the lunch. Not only would your family be there, but your boss and several of your co-workers. Everyone who mattered in your life. Steve had been so careful to fit them into his little blueprint. 

You sighed and rubbed your stomach without thought. Steve’s hand left your thigh cold but settled over your own. You kept your eyes ahead and tore your hand out from beneath his. He pressed his palm to your middle. He held it there as you glanced at the door.

“You’re growing,” He whispered excitedly. 

“Shh,” You batted him away as you saw a familiar redhead at the doors. “Nat is here. Bruce too.”

He drew away reluctantly and stood as your first guests approached. You rose and greeted them along with Steve, thankful for a buffer. You sat and checked the time. You wished you could hit fast forward on this whole farce. Better yet, you’d give anything to undo all that had led to it.

👶

Tony was the last to arrive. He always was. Pepper badgered at him as they approached the table and apologized for their delay. Your parents were introduced and they apologized that your sister could not make the gathering. You smiled numbly as you watched the interloping of friends and family. You just wanted to hug your mom and beg her to take you with her.

“I was surprised,” Your mother said gaily, “She never said much about Steve but I mean, what do you say?”

You cringed at your mother’s fawning. Steve basked in the golden light of his reputation and looks. It was easy for him. He had deceived you just as easily. You sipped your water quietly and longed for the chardonnay Wanda nursed diligently.

“Well, I’m afraid to say that’s my fault,” Steve preened. “It’s a lot easier to figure these things out when it’s just the two of you. Especially as co-workers and--”

“Oh, yes, our golden boy is just as bad as all the others,” Tony piped up. “But don’t worry, I have a team for damage control and they’re used to cleaning up after him.”

Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, but they wouldn’t be so skilled if they didn’t work for you.”

Tony shrugged and took a drink. “Well…” Pepper elbowed him and your father laughed to himself.

“The important thing is that you’re happy,” Your mother said. “It’s good to be cautious.”

You grumbled and stabbed at your salad. You wanted to sink the tines into someone in particular but you resisted as there was too much of an audience. You nodded and shoved your mouth full of lettuce to keep from a smart remark. 

“Well, we did try to be…” Steve stood and you craned your neck to look up at him. You swallowed as he took his glass and your heart stopped. “I’d like to say something.” Your eyes rounded and you shook your head frantically. “While I did bring you here for a birthday, I, or we, have some news.”

You could barely breathe as you watched through a haze. The words were muffled and yet all too clear as he spoke them. You gripped the edge of the table. 

“Steve…” You whispered but he ignored you.

“We know it’s a bit early but we’re very excited to go on this adventure together,” Steve reached down and took your hand. He pulled you up to your feet and you avoided the gaze of every person at the table. You stared at your plate. “We’re… pregnant. Three months now.”

“Jesus, this guy works fast,” Tony said.

“Tony.” Pepper remanded.

“A baby!” Wanda sang and you winced.

You lifted your head shyly and looked to your parents. Your father’s brows were raised as high as they could go but your mother beamed in delight. She stood and swiftly rounded the table. Steve let go of you as she drew you into a hug and you let her. If you had any strength left in you, you wouldn’t be able to keep from throttling Steve.

“Congratulations,” She held you at arms length and took you in. “I should have known.”

“Mom,” You warned. “Really…”

“Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you,” She hugged you again and then sidled past to hug Steve too. “You take care of my girl.”

“He better,” Your father said curtly from across the table. He still hadn’t moved. 

“Working on,” Steve assured as he waited for you to sit first. “Actually, there is more.” You squinted and looked at him. “We’re moving away from the city. We’ve been looking at house just north of here.”

“Wait,” Bruce said. “Wait, you’re… moving?”

“Well, she won’t be able to work in the lab much longer, will she?” Steve countered. “Even if we stayed, she’d have at least a year of leave to take care of the baby. You’ll be down a tech anyway.”

“Steve, you’ve really done it,” Tony teased. “First you fill my desk with paperwork and now you’re stealing my best tech.”

You were breathless. Stunned. He hadn’t mentioned anything about moving away from the city. Sure, he’d alluded to getting you out of your single apartment but not this. And your job? How many times had he sworn you wouldn’t lose it and now he was taking it from you by force. You sat in a daze.

“Excuse me,” You stood suddenly. “I gotta… use the restroom.”

You stormed away to the small alcove that led to the facilities. You touched your forehead and tried to think. As you turned back, Steve was there and you growled. 

“Goddamnit, you wanna give me a minute?”

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! I’m not moving and I’m not quitting my job.” You spat. “How can you-- I’ve worked years for this and now you’re just going to take it all away and for what? A baby? A stupid baby?”

“For a life. A family. For us.” He grabbed your arm and shoved you into the men’s. He locked the door behind him. “Look, I found us a real nice place. Perfect for us; for the kids.”

“Kid,” You insisted.

“We’ll see,” He countered. “Now, you need to calm down. You don’t wanna stress out the baby.”

“You’re stressing me out,” You returned.

He inhaled deeply and his jaw tensed. His eyes darkened as he glared down at you. 

“Well, you do have options; the first is you go along willingly and your mother, your father, your sister, well, they get to come visit and it’s all just one happy family.” He backed you up against the sink. “The second is you keep being a little bitch and I’ll drag you up there myself and you won’t see any of them again.”

“Yeah, right,” You scoffed. “And when they wonder why their daughter is MIA?”

“You’re acting erratic. Your recent history at work shows a change in behaviour; you been dodging phone calls from your family.” He smirked. “I’ve bought you a house, I’ve taken care of you, and all of a sudden, you’ve just left. You’ve run away and poor Steve Rogers is left to raise a child all on his own. A child you abandoned so callously.”

You gaped at him. You sputtered and your lip trembled. “You’re… insane.”

“I’m doing what I have to for my family,” He leaned in so that his nose almost touched yours. “For our family. So, settle down, put a smile on, and let’s go back to lunch.”

👶

You suspected that even if the hormones hadn’t ravaged your emotions, you would be distraught. You stood in your empty apartment and looked around at the bare walls. How quickly your entire life was packed away into boxes. How quickly it had become someone else’s. You went to the window and looked out at the moving truck below.

Your last day at the lab was harder. You could see Bruce was upset but he wouldn’t say it. He only smiled and wished you the best. Promised to see you at the shower, as everyone else had. It was all about the baby now. All about that life growing in your stomach with each day. You could no longer hide it now in the midst of your fourth month.

And it didn’t deter Steve. It only seemed to inflame him. When he was near, his hand was on your stomach and it never took very long until it wandered. Until he was all over you and you were lost in the same delirium which started this mess. Your own weakness. For him.

The door open and closed. It echoed in the airy apartment. You turned as Steve put his hands on his hips and took in the expanse of the barren room. He sighed, content.

“The movers are heading out. We’ll follow them up and get settled in tomorrow.” He said. “Couple hours on the road but we should be in time for supper.”

You shrugged and stepped away from the window. “Okay.” You said dully. You didn’t want to leave; that meant it was all so final. Even as your body changed, as you felt the life inside of you bloom, it just wasn’t real to you. It was like a nightmare; vivid and suffocating.

“You’re gonna miss this place, aren’t you?” He met you at the counter that divided kitchen and living room. “Trust me, our new place is nicer. Bigger.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You turned to him. “So why do you pretend?”

“What?” He blinked.

“If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t force this on me. You wouldn’t--”

“I have done this,” He cradled your face and pressed himself to you. “Because I care.” He turned you so that you were between him and the counter. “Because out of a dozen, hundreds, thousands of women, I chose you.”

“Steve,” You grabbed his hand. “Please.”

“You’ll have your memories but we’ll make better ones,” He slipped his hand out from beneath yours and gripped the edge of the counter as trapped you against it. “But we can make another before we go.”

“Ugh,” You pushed on his chest. “Really?”

“Turn around,” He leaned in. “Come on.”

“Let’s just go,” You tried to shove his arm away but he didn’t budge.

“Or we can make a pit stop along the way?” He offered. “Hmm?”

You rolled your eyes and turned slowly to face the counter. His pulled away from the counter and dragged his hands down your back and lingered on your hips. You shivered as his fingertips sent a thrill through you. You grasped the edge of the counter as he backed you up just slightly. He hooked his thumbs under your pants and pushed them to your thighs.

You leaned on the counter as his zipper whispered behind you and the denim of his jeans brushed against your ass. You hung your head. It would appease him as much as you. Lately, you had grown ravenous. You read online that it was the hormones but that was an easy excuse.

He slid his hand between your legs. You were already wet. He delved between your folds and flicked over your clit. You twitched and let out a gasp. He did it again. He pushed himself against you and slipped his hand out to guide his cock to you. He wetted his tip and eased past your swollen lips.

You bent lower as he sank into you slowly. You let out a rattling breath as he buried himself entirely. He gave a careful thrust and you arched your back. He bent over you and pushed your shirt up as he stretched his hand across your stomach. He nuzzled your neck as he held you to him and began to rock.

“See how much you’re growing?” He purred as you closed your eyes. You grasped at the counter as he moved against you. 

You panted as the sweat formed along your back and thighs. Your walls strained around him and you pushed back against him eagerly. His motion sent tingles along your spine as he sped up with each tilt of his hips. He kept his hand on your stomach as his other gripped your shoulder. He fucked you harder as the mewls rose louder and louder from your lips.

The slick sounds bounced off the corner of the apartment and danced around you. You hissed as you felt the steep rise. Your core thrummed and you dug your nails into the countertop. Your lips formed an O as you came silently, too enraptured to make a noise. You shook in utter delight and clung to the moment of bliss.

Steve kept his arm wrapped around you and pulled you straight. You were on tip toes as he rutted into you. His grunts were loud and untamed. He snarled as he climaxed. He spasmed as he came and his ragged breaths brushed over your hair. He held you close as he stilled and lingered inside of you. He kissed your crown and held his lips there for a moment.

He released you gently and pulled out of you. He was quick to draw your panties back up and his semen seeped into the cotton. He tucked himself away as he rounded you. 

“Don’t,” He warned. “Jeans up. I want you to stay like that. I want me in you until we get there.”

You gulped and reluctantly pulled up your pants. You zipped up the fly and shuddered as you felt his cum cooling in your panties. He reached out and straightened the hem of your shirt, certain to graze your bump with his fingers.

“Come on,” He smiled as he took your hand. “We got a long ride.”

👶

The drive was long. For the first hour, you were restless. Then you dozed to the steady turn of the tires and the bustling wind of the highway. When you woke, you were on the lazy curved streets of some suburban retreat. You yawned and sat up in your seat. Steve reached over and squeezed your leg.

“Almost there,” He assured you.

You nodded and crossed your arms as you watched the houses pass. You missed the city already. 

The sun was on its decline as the street lights flickered on. Mothers called to their children to come inside as you passed. The lawns were all neatly trimmed, the houses cookie cutter, and the picket fences pristine. You frowned. 

Was this to be the rest of your life? This humdrum feminine mystique?

You looked over at Steve. How could a monster be so daft? Is this all he ever wanted? A swatch among this quilt of antiquated domesticity. He turned down another winding street and another until he finally pulled into a driveway next to the moving truck. The house was like any other; another lifeless clone. 

You stared up at your new prison as Steve got out of the car. He came around to your side and opened the door. “I’m gonna check on the movers and then we’ve got dinner plans.” He checked his watch. “Running a bit behind but it was worth it.”

You grumbled and climbed out of the card reluctantly. Dinner plans? You hovered around the car as Steve headed for the front door. A mover emerged at the same time and he laughed off their near collision. You watched as he chatted with the man in his torn jeans. He clapped his shoulder and strode back down the drive.

“They’re almost done,” He smiled. “Should be by the time we’re done with our housewarming.”

You shook your head, confused. He grabbed your hand and led you down the drive to the sidewalk. “What’s--”

“Well, there was one friend who couldn’t make our little lunch but he wants to welcome us to the neighbourhood,” Steve pulled you up the next walk. 

“Can’t I change first?” You looked down at yourself. “I mean…”

“No one will know,” He grinned. “And besides, we’ve already kept them waiting.” He stopped at the front door and rang the doorbell. You squirmed beside him. He nudged you as he waited for an answer. “Smile.”

You forced your lips to curve though it felt like more of a scowl. The door opened at last and woman stood before you. Her eyes were wide but not unwelcoming. She wore a red dress with polka-dots and a pair of mary jane flats.

“Steve,” She greeted meekly. “And this is?”

Steve introduced you and stepped forward to kiss the woman’s cheek. “Bucky hiding from us?”

“James is in his office.” She answered as she clung to the door and backed up. “Please, come in. Dinner’s waiting.”

“Thanks,” Steve waited for you to enter first and followed closely. The woman turned away quickly and scurried down the hall. You heard a knock and then her voice. “James, they’re here.”

She returned and waved you after her into the dining room. Plates and cutlery were set out, waiting for you. She looked at Steve and then you. Her eyes rounded as she saw your stomach. You shielded it with your hand and she blanched. She tore her eyes away quickly.

“Sit,” She said. “Please.”

She clasped her hands together and retreated to the kitchen. You sat as you listened to her clinking around before she returned with a tray. She set out a pitcher of water and a bowl of bread. She flitted back into the kitchen and emerged with a platter of roast beef. Next, a bowl of steaming potatoes and another of roasted veggies. As she set down the last, a shadow appeared in the doorway.

“About time.” Steve chimed as he stood. He shook the dark-haired man’s hand. 

You recognized him though you’d never met him. Steve introduced you with a smile. You shook his hand in kind and sat back down. His wife, or whatever she was, emerged once more and sat beside him. She played with the gold chain around her neck. 

“So,” Bucky began to serve himself from the platter of roast. “How far along are you? If that’s not too forward.”

You sniffed and poured yourself some water. “About four month,” You answered evenly.

“Mmm,” He nodded and glanced to the woman beside him. “We’re still trying.” She nodded and kept quiet as she scooped veggies onto her plate. She chewed her lip as she sat back and glanced over at Bucky. “But you know, the trying’s the fun part.”

She looked down embarrassed. You peeked over at Steve as he watched her too. He was unfazed by her reaction though it made you uncomfortable. Although it never seemed to bother Steve. You tried to smile at her but she avoided your gaze and poked at her food with her fork.

“A couple of months won’t make much of a difference. I’m sure our little ones will get along.” Steve said cheerily.

She grumbled and Bucky nodded. He ate diligently as the woman stared up at the ceiling.

“So, uh,” You began through the tense silence. “You have a lovely house. How long have you two lived here?”

“How long…” She began and looked to Bucky again. He shrugged at her. “I just moved in um, well, you know it all just blends together.”

“I’ve been here about a year,” Bucky said. “Wanted to fix it up a little before she moved in, you know?” She nodded and crushed a roasted yam with her fork. He sighed and grabbed her hand. “You know, if you actually ate the food, you might not be having so many issues.”

You reeled in shock at his tone. She apologized under her breath and tore her hand away. Her lips curled in barely restrained irritation. He shook his head and went back to his food. 

“Well, early on, I couldn’t eat a thing so it might be a good sign,” You offered. “Stomach would just turn so quickly--”

“Harder when you have to eat next to him,” She growled as she tossed her fork on the plate. 

“Don’t,” He warned. 

You looked at Steve again but he only seemed amused by the scene. As you turned back to her, she flipped her plate over so that her food smeared across the table. She crossed her arms and glared at Bucky. 

“What are you going do, hmm? We have guests.” She sang the last words like a bird.

Bucky set down his fork deliberately and sighed. He cleared his throat and smiled over at Steve and then you. He stood and squeezed the woman’s shoulder. 

“Excuse us, she’s on some supplement right now and they're not agreeing with her.” He reached down and grabbed her elbow and made her stand. “She’s a bit hormonal.”

She seethed as he turned her away and directed her into the hall and around the corner. You heard a door slam and muffled voices.

“What the fuck?” You turned to Steve and he shrugged.

“Oh, you know, they fight like cats and dogs but the chemistry is--”

“They’re gonna murder each other,” You gasped. “The two of you are fucking nuts.”

“You know, she said the same thing,” Steve chuckled. “I think you’ll get along.”

“What has he done to her?”

“Well…” He paused and raised his finger for silence.

You listened. You didn’t hear anything at first. Then it slowly drifted through the wall. Moans. Hers and his. The rocking of some unseen furniture. Steve tilted his head coyly.

“Just a bit of tension,” He said. “You know how it is.”

“We should go.” You lowered your voice.

“Without saying goodbye? Oh, come on, we’re all adults here.” He said coolly. “They shouldn’t be too long.”

You sat back, stunned. Your eyes ran along every inch of the wall, the polished wooden floors, the carefully arranged flowers. It was all so perfect; so precise; so very fake. Your eyes went to the window, the siding of the next house; your house. The breath went out of you and you cradled your stomach.

The woman’s voice was louder now and hard to ignore. Is that what you sounded like? You glanced over at Steve and gulped. He leaned on the arm of his chair as he reached to touch your arm. Your heart clutched and the world stood still, held in the palm of his hand.

“Isn’t it nice?” He said. “You’ll have a friend. The kid too.”

THE END FOR NOW