#because he walked in front of the projector

[badassindistress]

Pattern projection experiments number 2

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

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[gyeomsweetgyeom]

when the fratboy falls teaser

fratboy!Jaehyun x f!reader

summary: Jaehyun is a fratboy with a notorious reputation for being a playboy, you have never heard of him. surely, he can use tutoring as an excuse to get close to you, right?

teaser word count: 319

expected fic word count: ~8.6k

release date: Saturday, August 3

a/n: OMGGGG!!! I did ittttt! The long awaited origin fic of fratboy!jaehyun and reader! I'm working on adding some more detail, finishing up proofreading, and making it better overall, but I am SO excited with how it's turning out. Hope you all love it as much as I do <333 (also maybe you guys will believe it, but I can't???? this will be my first full fic in like 2 years wooooah)

AND! if you'd like to be added to the taglist you can comment, message me, or send me an ask :)

-

Jaehyun comes in, five minutes early, making his way down the aisle to the empty seat beside you. He smiles awkwardly and apologetically as people move their backpacks out of the way and send him enamored smiles.

He plops into the seat beside you unceremoniously and loudly. You send him a look that shows him you are far beyond impressed. Then he sets something on your desk. 

“What is this for?” You ask with your brows raised. 

He shrugs, keeping himself busy by pulling out whatever he needs to take notes. “It’s a flower, Sweetheart. Isn’t it obvious?”

“I know what it is, asshole. Why is it on my desk?” You ask bluntly. From anyone else ‘Sweetheart’ would be condescending, but you like hearing his voice say it. Ew.

“I was walking to class and it flew in front of my face. I stomped all over it, danced on it, and then I thought it would be nice to give to you.” He answers with a casual shrug, his eyes locked on the huge projector screen while everyone waits for the professor to set up the slides.

You push his shoulder playfully, preparing to reply but class starts. He lied again. These flowers don’t fly off anything because the bushes they grow on are too low to the ground. He didn’t stomp on it because it was perfectly in tact. It was still perfectly round and the color was vibrant. He had picked it just for you. 

You study him in your peripheral, a soft look on your face which you’re glad he can’t see since he’s busy taking notes. You force yourself to pay attention, tucking the flower behind your ear before catching up on the slides you’d missed.

Jaehyun catches a blur of pink, out of the corner of his eye he can see you tucking the flower behind your ear. He feels himself blush, and suddenly isn’t so mad that he took the long way to class just to find you that flower. They might be his favorite flower now too.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)

pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4.5k

summary:

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.

But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

author's note:

my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!

content warnings/tags:

explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!

Translations you may need:

Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York

Sí - Yes

Dios mío - My god

El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics

Mierda - Shit

Te lo prometo - I promise you

Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god

Arañita - little spider

Cállate - be quiet

Mirame - look at me

te sientes tan bien - you feel so good

Perfecto - perfect

________

You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes. 

“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York. 

A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly. 

“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.

“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”

Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.

“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”

Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”

“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?” 

“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”

A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.

“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order. 

“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you. 

Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.

Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.

You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you. 

“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”

________

Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.

You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output. 

He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years. 

Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming. 

He just doesn’t know what.

________

Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—

No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor. 

He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom. 

You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on. 

“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.

“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer. 

“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space. 

There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.

“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him. 

“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”

“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips? 

“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”

“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.

You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.

________

Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.

“You can tell me to do anything.”

Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail. 

“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks. 

“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.

“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”

“You knew there was a risk of that.” 

You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”

Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”

You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis. 

“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks. 

“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”

You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.

After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.

“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.

You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.

“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”

“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”

“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.

“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.

But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.

“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.

“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”

“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”

“Are you sure you want—“

Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”

“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”

As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.

_______

Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins. 

“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.

“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”

He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”

“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box. 

“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”

You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”

Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm. 

“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you. 

He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.

You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom. 

You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”

“It did,” he replies. 

“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”

Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.

“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“

His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.

“Dr. O’Hara—“

“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”

“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp. 

“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”

Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.

His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.

“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.

“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.

“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”

You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.

As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.

“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”

The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel. 

He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.

“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”

“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body. 

“I can’t!”

“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”

Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.

“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”

You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.

“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.

“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.

“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”

You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.

“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”

“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast. 

Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.

His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.

Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.

“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls. 

“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”

“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.” 

“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.

He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.

His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.

“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”

You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.

He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.

“That was—“

“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“

“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”

He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.

“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.

“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded. 

You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”

You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”

The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:

[fairlyang]

18+ smut. mystery girl cont. 1.3 🕷️

w/c: 1.8K

tags: 18+ smut. filth filthy filthy. going back, finding him, voyeurism, surprising him, blowjob, properly riding him, unprotected sex, slightly possessive x2, creampie

a/n: alright we’ll see how long this goes for bc it’s been fun writing them all back to back

part 1.1 | part 1.2

as soon as you got home you took out one of your toys because the sexual frustration was actually killing you.

it was killing you so much that the next morning you drove your ass to the sex toy store again. you didn’t have each other's numbers so you only had to manifest he'd also show up bright and early because he wanted to see you so bad.

you walked into the store and quickly went into the back, then practically ran to the theater. you went through the double doors and you could hear faint moans. the projector was playing some porn with a girl getting fucked by a huge guy.

you gulped and went to the right side and sat on the first seat in the back row. there were only a handful of people on each side based off the moans and groans but only as you were sat down did you decide to take a look around.

you looked at your row and no one was there. you stood up a little and looked at the row in front of you to surprisingly find the man that’s been living in your head.

his chair was slightly reclined and you could see his head on the headrest of his chair. you walked over to the right since he was near the middle of his row and you were now able to hear his moans.

you watched as he jerked himself off intensely watching the screen in front of him. you fought back a moan at the sight and walked to the left to get to him because you needed him so bad.

his eyes were glued to the screen until you came into his view and he gave you a wide grin. you gave him a sweet smile then dropped to your knees.

he frowned and shook his head, “I need to make up for last night.”

you shrugged and took his cock in your hands, softly stroking him while retaining eye contact, “let me do this first.”

“fine but I’m cumming inside you.” he says and spreads his legs so you could get closer.

you kiss his tip and flutter your lashes at him, “is that a promise?”

he groans and brings a hand down to your jaw, “absolutely.”

you squeezed your thighs together and took him in your mouth, not wasting any time and taking as much as you could down your throat. his hand took its place on your head, gently pushing you down to encourage you to take more.

you let him and took more of him as you bobbed your head up and down his length, surprisingly able to take more than half. he groaned and laid his head back as you looked up at him.

he looked down at you and there was just something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on yet but you were definitely going to be trouble. he was already growing obsessed, he just wanted to take you back to his place and take you in every square inch of his house.

but he’d have to wait a bit until that happened.

“that’s such a good fucking girl.” he murmurs making you squeeze your thighs together.

who knew praise from an older man could have such an effect on your body?

apparently he did because he continued.

“you like sucking off a complete stranger’s cock baby?” he murmurs and you moan against him.

he curses under his breath and you go all the way down until you could feel his pubic hair tickle your nose. you then pulled back all the way and let the saliva drip down to his cock as you took a breather.

you stroked it and stuck your tongue out before slapping the tip onto your tongue. miguel was losing it and he was trying his hardest to not pull you off your feet and just take you how he needs.

based on how long it took you to actually take his cock, he decided his against it because if he was one thing he was always a gentleman.

which is why he grabbed your arms, pulling you up before he stood up and he made you sit down. you got comfortable as he got down and spread your legs apart.

he kissed your right ankle and slowly started kissing up your calve to your knee then very slowly kissed up your thigh. he kissed your inner thigh then went up to kiss your clothed clit.

he moved down then licked a strip from your entrance up to your clit which left you breathless. his eye contact was so insane but you couldn’t look away.

and you were definitely already wet enough for him.

“Miguel please I need you already.” you whined with a pout on your lips.

he looked down at your panties and the entirety was soaked. you completely drenched them.

without another word he grabbed you and sat down then pulled you on top of him.

you grabbed his cock and positioned it to your entrance, hoping your body was ready. you moved down just enough for his tip to go inside making you whimper.

you lifted yourself up then went back down, taking more than just the tip. no pain.

You went back up then fully slammed down making you both moan. “Fuck baby-“

“you like when strangers ride your dick?” you breathlessly teased and he just chuckled.

“only pretty ones like you.” he murmured making you clench against him.

his eyes rolled back and you put your hands on his shoulders to help you. his hands were on your hips and he was helping you bounce before he’d take over.

“so fucking pretty.” he mumbled and you bit your lip.

you stared down at his lips and you had an urge to scratch. you leaned in, getting closer to his face as you moved your hips up and down slowly.

he was watching you intently. he could read your mind from a mile away so he didn’t hesitate to lean in and kiss you. you kissed back and brought a hand up to his jaw as his roamed your body.

the kiss was slow at first before Miguel turned it into a hungry and hot one fast by sliding his tongue into your mouth. you moaned into his mouth and you could feel him twitch inside you.

you moved your body faster as you kissed him back with just as much passion when he suddenly pulls away and starts kissing down you jaw then to your neck. “you feel fucking amazing gorgeous.” he murmurs against your skin and you just whimper.

you continue at your pace until Miguel kisses down your chest then cleavage and you go faster. this time you wore another dress with no bra so your tits were bouncing in his face and he felt like he was getting teased.

he took them out and squeezed them, then pinching your nipples having you whimper more for him. you slowed down a little since it seemed like he was going to be giving them attention no matter what.

he squeezed them together then latched onto your right nipple and started sucking. you moaned and with one hand bringing him closer because it all just felt so good. “just like that Miguel-“ you moaned and he pulled away to suck on your left nipple harder.

“Shit-“ you groaned and straightened up but he was latched to you like glue.

He then pulled away once again to suck on your right nipple and you bounced harder making him moan against you. he finally pulled away then pulled back in to suck on the skin right above your right nipple.

he pulled away and admired the red mark he left. he needed you to be all his. immediately if possible. he really didn’t like to share and the way he could see the men watching you from the row behind you, he needed to make sure you would be.

“I’m gonna fuck you now okay? Let me do the work.” He says and you nod.

you lifted yourself up a bit but he shook his head and brought you all the way down. first he pressed the button so the recliner can move back because he wanted to fuck you the same as the first time.

he lifted his hips up slightly then started pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. the noises alone were enough to get the attention of everyone in the theater so some of the guys were just jerking off while watching. luckily your back was turned to them so you had no idea. just completely focused on the absolute pleasure you were getting from this man.

you moved your body down and laid your head against his chest while slightly arching your back. his arms were wrapped firmly around you and you were a moaning mess.

he’s so happy he took the gamble on coming in bright and early hoping you’d come in as well. you had incredible sexual chemistry together and he wasn’t willing to let that go to waste or to have someone else snatch you.

and clearly it paid off.

he murmured sweet praises then dirty nothings right after just so he could see which ones you liked more. considering you clenched against him for both wasn’t a very good indicator but at least he knew you did like both.

“miguel- so good-“ you moaned out as he thrusted deeper he murmured sweet praises then dirty nothings right after just so he could see which ones you liked more. considering you clenched against him for both wasn’t a very good indicator but at least he knew you did like both.

“I know baby. fuck-“ he groaned as you started to kiss his neck and chest.

you then started sucking on his skin because it was only fair you left your mark on him too.

you weren’t too fond of sharing either.

he felt his orgasm coming close and his thrusts started becoming more sloppy and just deep. you hold onto his arms as he twitched inside you. your own orgasm was coming in and he was hitting your sweet spot so perfectly everytime you closed your eyes it was like seeing stars.

“please cum inside me-“ you murmured and slammed your ass into him.

he groaned and his thrusts got harder, his grip on your body was getting loose and your body was starting to shake. you both continued doing your thing at the same time so it was to no surprise that you both came when you brought your ass down as Miguel thrusted deep inside you.

he released all his load inside you and you just let out shaky breaths as he held you and kissed your head gently. your eyes closed and you could hear your heartbeat loud and clear in your ears.

you took slow and steady breaths as you calmed down while miguel did the same. his chest was going up and down and hearing his heartbeat was kind of comforting in a way.

you laid in his arms just cockwarming him and calming yourself down while Miguel shooed all the pervs away because he just made sure to make you his in front of all of them so they wouldn’t forget it.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: idia shroud celebrates your birthday!!

COMMENTS: a birthday present for @twstchatterbox the MOON to my SUN the DYNAMIC to my DUO the BLACK CAT to my GOLDEN RETRIEVER!!!! i love you lots and lots i am so glad we are friends i am squeezing you so tight from the other side of the world.

i wanted to keep this a surprise and i HOPE I SURPRISED YOU i hope you didnt see this coming sjdjdsjdj you have given me so many gifts from your doodles of me to your doodles of US to all the interests you've shared with me to looking out for me all this time AND EVEN STAYING UP LATE TO TALK TO ME?? I AM SO SORRY FOR YOUR SLEEP SCHEDULE

i hope you have the best birthday ever you deserve so much so take this awkward gamer boy. you know your lore. i know your lore. i tried to incorporate it and im sure only you will understand it but thats the point isnt it?

THIS IS GOING ON TOO LONG. I SHOULD HAVE MADE THIS A SEPARATE POST. ANYWAYS. GO READ IT I LOVE YOU

You cross your arms over your chest, amused as the blue package floats silently over to you. It stops right in front of you and a flickering screen loads from a small projector propped on the top of the box.

accept quest?

yes. no.

It’s ridiculous of him to put a no option. You press the yes option and a cheerful jingle rings from the speakers as the package drops at your feet. Bending over, you scoop it into your arms, a delicate smile on your face. You can feel quite a few gazes on your back but you opt to ignore them, walking out of your dorm and towards the source of your gift.

Ever since the events of winter break, you’d become far more accustomed to the halls of Ignihyde. The students seem to have grown more accustomed to you in turn, although some still scamper away from you.

There was only so much that could be done, you think. Besides, your presence here was not because of them. You were here for their Housewarden.

As you reached his door, you wasted no time reaching out to knock. Each tap of your knuckles against his door was crisp and loud, just in case he was wearing his headphones. The corners of your lips lift into a smile as you hear him shuffling around, no doubt checking up on his room to make sure it’s just the normal amount of messy but not too messy lest you get suspicious that he’s a slob or that he cleaned just for you.

You already know he did, though.

“Are you going to keep me waiting?” you call out teasingly, tapping your foot on the polished floors.

The door creaks open slowly, and the soft pink glow of Idia's hair lights up his face. Your heart takes a tumble in your chest.

“Hi.” you breathe, “I wanted to open your gift with you.”

Idia squeaks and opens the door to let you inside, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Um, okay. Thanks.” he says, mumbling each word as if he isn’t sure what he’s saying at all, “You, uh, didn’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.” you refute, and you both understand what would have come after that.

So let me do this.

“Okay.” he jams his hands into his pocket and shrugs, always so awkward around you but so obvious, “I hope you like it.”

“I’ll love it.” you reassure him.

After all, a heart as kind as Idia Shroud’s wouldn’t pick anything but the best.

[iliketangerines]

PLEASE WE NEED MORE OF PROFESSOR JOHNNY CAGE, BUT THIS TIME COULD YOU MAKE HIM DESPERATE FOR HIS STUDENT? LIKE YOU KNOW THE READERS JUST SO PRETTY HE CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF HER, AND SHES SO SHY THAT SHE GETS FLUSTERED BY EVERYTHING, AND THIS DRIVES HIM CRAZY ( smut 🙏🙏 )

LOVE YOUR WORK🫶🏻😩

no one needs to know pt.2

a/n: i gotchu cutie, and i can't stop thinking about johnny with gray streaks in his hair like bark bark bro.

pairing: professor!johnny cage x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), power imbalance; mentions of pussy eating, blowjobs, overstimulation, spanking, thigh riding, exhibition kink

the second that Johnny had seen you, he was floored

you had come in early to his physics classroom where he was standing up on a chair, trying to figure out what was wrong with the damn projector

his sleeves had been rolled up his forearms, and he had unbuttoned his shirt due to the exertion of trying to fix the overheated projector

and then, you had walked in, and he looked down and saw you, dressed in an oversized coat for the winter and baggy sweatpants, and he found you cute

Johnny blinked, this was his student that he was thinking about, get it together!

but then you took off your coat to reveal a skin-tight short sleeve shirt that was tight enough to reveal the perky nipples underneath your bra, and he was done for

he came down from the chair he was standing on and approached you, reaching his hand out to shake yours and introduce himself as your teacher since you’re the first and only one in the classroom

you glance down at his forearms and a light blush dusts over your cheeks as you hold out your hand and return his handshake

he can feel how soft your hands are in his, and images of your hands wrapped around his cock flash through his mind

he gives you a big smile, trying to put on some of the Cage charm from his sprightlier days, and it seems to work because you duck your head down to hide your blush and take a seat

he walks back up to the front of the class, taking the chalk and writing on the board his name and information, and he turns around to see some more students trickling in

he ignores them, however, opting to just steal glances at you from his laptop

you bite your plump and soft-looking lips as you look at something on your phone, and when your lips stretch into a smile at something, Johnny wants nothing more than to have them stretched around his thick cock and-

concentrate! this is his student. he can’t be having these kinds of thoughts!

and yet, you still run through his mind through the rest of class, and he has to stay behind the computer stand to hide his embarrassing hard-on

but still, he glances at you throughout the class and notices how you keep staring at his forearms, and he smiles inwardly

from then on, he keeps his shirt sleeves rolled up to try and catch you staring at him, and everytime you turn your head away to blush, his ego jumps to impossible heights

he walks up and down the aisles when you guys work on worksheets that he’s handed out, and he purposefully stands next to you as he ‘observes’ the classroom, his crotch next to your face so that he can watch you blush furiously and try not to stare

whenever you raise a hand into the air for a question, he has to stop himself from dropping everything and answering your question

he takes his time to walk to your desk, trying to be as subtle as possible as he flexes his arms and settles down next to you

he can see in the corner of your eye at how your eyes glance up and down his arms and how they flicker between his lips and his crotch

he has to stop himself from having an inappropriate thought coming through his mind

he always puts on a slight bit more cologne those days where you have class with him and leans in a bit too close to you, and he knows it makes your head spin as you stutter through your words and questions

at home, he lays in bed and imagines how soft and perfect you would be for him

he imagines how your lips would wrap around his cock, and how they would stretch and how you would whine and cry at him fucking into your mouth

he imagines how it would be to tease you, flicking your clit back and forth with his fingers as he brings you to the edge over and over again

he thinks your whimpers and moans would be heavenly

he imagines how tight and wet your pussy is and how it would squeeze his cock just right, and he imagines how good you would taste on his tongue

when the first quiz comes around, and he sees your mostly incorrect answers, he has to stop himself from smiling because you would have to come to office hours

except you don’t, and he gets more desperate, judging your test maybe a bit more harshly than others to try and get you to come to his office

and when he sees you receive your quiz back marked in red and sees how your eyes fill with tears and how your lip slightly wobbles, Johnny wants to bend you over in front of the class and fuck you stupid

wants to have you crying out for him as he fucks you on the desk like a whore

especially after he finds you after class talking to another student about making plans to study together for the upcoming quiz

he wants to go up to you, squeeze your tits and finger your pussy while staring at the other student dead in the eye and claim you as his

he wants to spread you open and show how he’s the only one who can make your pussy so desperate and wet for him and how a college student with minimal experience couldn’t do that

he wants to have you crying on his cock, tears streaming down your face and body bruised from how hard he grabs you

but he doesn’t, just seethes from a distance as the other student happily agrees to the study date

that night he imagines punishing you for being a brat and talking to other people to make him jealous

he imagines that your ass would look beautiful marked in red and his bite marks, and that your begging and whimpers would sound like music to his ears

he imagines how your cunt would drool even after a harsh spanking and how he would make you cum so many times that you start asking him to stop

he bites his lip and cums into his fist at the thought and cleans himself up

later in the week, when it’s too hot in the building and he just dresses in a tank top, he nearly hops over his desk and fucks you when you walk in with a short skirt on

fuck, your legs are toned and plush, perfect for squeezing and slapping, and your plump ass is barely covered by the fabric of the skirt, and he wants to smack it

but he also catches how you gape at his arms and how when he flexes it just ever so slightly, you have to turn your head away and rub your thighs together ever so subtly

that night, Johnny had never jerked off so much to the thought of you

it’s a month and a half into the semester, and you’ve had your first exam, and you’ve failed, there’s no way you can come back unless you get perfects on every quiz and exam going forward

when he sees your name pop up in his calendar that you scheduled a private office hour meeting with him, he nearly jumps into the air

he clears his calendar around your meeting with him, making sure no one comes in before or after you for at least an hour, so he can take his time with you

and when you come and he sees how you flush and stammer over his words when he leans in close, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker

and when he sees tears well in your eyes and how your voice slightly wobbles at the thought of failing, he has to stop himself from jumping the gun and fucking you right there

and when he finally does taste you, you’re so much sweeter than he thought, and when he finally fucks you, you’re so much warmer and tighter than he thought

when he sends you off that day, his mind runs wild with thoughts of what he can do to you

maybe he’ll have you cockwarm him with your mouth while he grades exams, maybe he’ll prop you up on his desk and eat you out for the rest of the day

maybe he’ll make you ride his thigh and make a mess of his dress pants while you whine for him to please make you cum

maybe he’ll make you wear a vibrator in class and have to stay quiet as he teaches class

Johnny can’t wait until your next meeting with him

[gay-wh0re-slut]

HEYYY

Can you write rhea x fem!reader where they are at the movies and they decide to sit all they way in the back away from everyone because reader doesn’t like being near anyone and rhea gets the idea to fool around while they watch the movie (smut please)

heyyyyyyy thank you for your request hehehe i’ve always wanted to do this

this is so cheeky oooooo let’s see how this goes

Two Tickets

rhea x fem!reader

content: sexy fun times with your hot buff wrestler gf in a movie theater. def some touching and teasing, def some kissing

“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk through door held open for you. You insisted on bringing a blanket because you always go too cold in the theaters, she loved cuddling up to you anyway.

The buff woman chuckles behind you, letting the door close behind the two of you. She quickly walks in front of you to the ticket counter.

Rhea saw online that they were doing a special showing of Friday the 13th. If you wore merch, you’d get fifty percent off the tickets, so of course you had to go. Half of her closet was horror movie merch.

“Two tickets for Friday the 13th, please,” her accent echoed a bit.

The worker looked intimidated by her, which was funny to you and almost immediately rang you up for the tickets. “Uh..anything else?”

She turned towards you, “popcorn?” she shrugged her large shoulders.

“Sure,” you chirped.

“Medium popcorn plea-”

“And a large lemonade!” you added on.

She rolled her eyes playfully, “and a large lemonade please.”

“Y-you got it,” he pushed buttons on the screen. As the card reader loaded, he scooped the popcorn and got the lemonade, placing both on the counter in front of your girlfriend. The tickets printed after she removed her card and he handed them to her.

“Thank you,” she handed the drink to you, then took the popcorn and tickets.

“Enjoy your movie,” he said quietly as you walked away.

“We will,” she winked towards him.

His knees almost buckled right then. It was fun having her around you thought, you almost got everything you wanted.

Walking into the theater, there was more people than you thought there would be. You froze for a second before Rhea looked at you with a soft smile, letting you know that everything will be okay. You followed her to the very back, right under the projector. Both of you sat down and situated yourselves under the blanket. This theater had the seats that could move so that you were basically laying down.

The previews played as more people trickled in. To your surprise, no one else sat in the back row. Was it Rhea's aura or did they want to be scared? Either way, you didn't mind.

The movie finally started. The wrestler hit your leg playfully out of excitement. She told you earlier that she has always wanted to see the movie on the big screen, "I was born too late," she would say.

As the movie went on, you finally realized that her hand was resting on your thigh, luckily under the blanket. Which wasn't any different than normal but what was different was that she was slowly moving it...up your leg.

"Baby," you whispered.

"What?" she whispered back teasingly.

"We're in pub-"

"The movie is loud and we're the only ones back here," her accent tingled in your ear as it sent chills down your spine.

She leaned over to start kissing on your neck, "c'mon baby," her whispering got more sensual as she talked.

"I thought you wanted to watch it on the big screen."

"Well, yes..." her hand was insanely close to your center now, "but you are much more intriguing." Her other hand reached to your chin and gently pulled you towards her. She glanced into your eyes then flicked her gaze down to your lips then back to your eyes, "be a good girl for me, yeah?"

You bit your lip trying to silence the whimper that was pushing its way out. Nodding your head in desperation, you scoot yourself closer to her wishing that the arm of the chair could fold up, but unfortunately it couldn't.

The movie played as her teasing went on. The more suspense in the movie, the more pressure she put on your center, and the more you struggled to keep yourself together. Every so often she would kiss your neck holding your face away from her for better access. Her tattooed hand massaged its way to your core as the people in front of you cowered in fear. The jump scare got closer and closer as her hand added more and more pressure.

"SHIT!" you screamed in arousal as the rest of the crowd screamed in fear at the jump.

She chuckled in your ear as the crowd died down and removed her hand, but only slightly.

Finally the movie ended, "get your ass in the car," she growled as she ripped the blanket away from the two of you. You quickly grabbed the half full drink, barely eaten popcorn and basically ran out to her big truck. She followed close behind you lazily folding the blanket.

Squirming all the way home, you jumped out of the car, dropped the popcorn and the drink on the counter and before you could make it to the bedroom-

"Uh uh, princess," as she caught you from behind, engulfing you in her big arms. She carried you back to the couch and threw you down.

You giggled as you plopped down.

"You did so well, my love," she kneeled in front of you landing her hands on the outside of your thighs.

You relaxed the muscles you didn't know you were holding tense. Letting out a long breath as you did, you let your head fall back, resting on the back of the couch. Your hands tangled themselves in her raven dark hair as she kissed along your thighs. Her hands toyed with your waistband, tugging on them hoping you get the hint.

Of course you did, but you loved the feeling of her teasing you, "not yet," you breathed.

"Correct answer," she grinned. She continued to kiss up your thighs and grazing her hands all over you. They trailed up to your sides, to your stomach, to your tits then finally back down to your legs. She slowly pushed them open causing her to kiss the inside of your thighs.

A small moan fell out of you as you readjusted yourself to move closer to the edge of the couch. You heard a faint giggle come from below you, sending a shock through you straight to your core.

Instead of tugging this time, Rhea purposely pulled harder on your waistband, silently telling you to lift your hips. So you did, allowing her to pull your pants off and thrown to the side as you helped.

"Look at you," she sat back holding your legs open staring at the arousal that soaked your underwear, "all for me?" she cooed.

"Mhmm," you whined, "please baby..."

"So desperate," she mocked. Her devilish smile dove back down to kiss on your now bare skin. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she trailed the kisses up to your core. Planting her soft lips right above where you need them most.

You shifted your hips closer to her but she backed away in perfect timing, "uh uh, you know the rules babygirl."

You sigh loudly, "hmph," as you drop your hands from her shoulders.

"Aw, a lil frustrated are we?"

"No," you lie.

"Right, so me doing this," she carefully grazed her thumb over your clit, "doesn't do anything?"

Your hips jerked as you grunted in frustration, "n-no."

"Right...and this?" she did the same motion but added slightly more pressure.

"Fuck," you said under your breath. You took a short but deep breath, "no," you growled.

"Uh huh," the devilish grin grew back. Her icy blue eyes flicked over your body, watching you writhe in front of her. It didn't take her long to figure out what to do next. She stood, then bent at her waist, placing a hand under your chin, lifting your head up to match her gaze. "Stand up," she whispered sternly.

You followed orders and stood as your legs shook, but only slightly. Her hand was on your chin the whole way up. She grabbed you more aggressively, then pulled you in for a long deep kiss before pushing you to the side. She took your seat, manspreading in front of you. You watched in awe as if she's never done this before. She draped her arms on the back cushions. Once more, her eyes danced over your body before she patted her thigh to tell you to sit down.

You followed her command and straddled her waist, resting your arms on her large shoulders.

"Hmm," she hummed in content, "I love making you like this."

"Like what?"

"Sooo... desperate," she trails a finger down your neck, to your chest, "sooo needy," the finger continues to the elastic of your underwear, playing with it.

"I can't help it," you moan at her touch.

"I know," she whispered in her husky voice. She grabbed your face with her free hand and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, quickly followed by her other hand diving underneath the cotton and straight to where you needed her most.

You were moaning loudly at her touch, as she held your head in place, not letting you go. Her skilled hand was forming small circles on your clit. Your hands flew to her hair gripping at anything you can.

She finally lets go of her death grip, "that's it, baby," as she pushed some stray hairs out of your face before cupping your jaw.

"Holy fuck," you whined. Her hand was going full force now, giving everything you wanted. The pressure and pace was perfect. You didn't realize you were grinding on her hand until she placed her other hand on your ass helping you through it. You moaned and whined into her neck, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Look at me," she said quietly, but you didn't listen. She immediately stopped her working hand.

"No please don-"

"Then look at me," she said harsher.

So you did.

"Good girl," her eyes were dark and hungry. "Now, I can tell you're close," she slowly starts again, causing you to ache for a release, "I need you to look at me when you come...undone," her pace quickens a bit, "can you do that for me, love?"

"Mhm, yes, yes I can, y-yes," you pleaded hoping she would stop teasing.

"Good," finally, she quickens her pace and adds more pressure perfectly as her other hand supports your back.

You almost immediately drop your chin to your chest before picking it back up again. One of your hands grip onto to her neck and the other is braced on the back of the couch. Your breath becomes more shallow, your hips are moving back and forth quicker than you thought possible. Moans and whines continue spilling out of you. You rest your forehead on hers.

"Oh shit, Rhea," you were basically whimpering now.

"C'mon baby," her voice was deep but breathy.

The knot that had been forming in your stomach since before you left the theater finally snapped, "FUCK," you cried out, throwing your head back. Loud moans filled the room as you rode out your high on her hand, slowly calming down as she followed suit in slowing down her pace.

As you caught your breath, you laid your head on her shoulder. She took back her hand and wrapped her arms around you letting you rest.

You finally lifted your head, "you're so fucking hot when you're mean to me by the way."

"Yeah? Should I call you a slut next time then?" she giggled, half joking.

"God, yes," you groaned.

"Well, then," she easily picked you up and began carrying you, "let's see what happens when I do," as she took you to the bedroom.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 6

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 11200

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers, Fear, Spiders

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You’d expected some downtime; some boredom. It simply wasn’t possible for these three desperate employees to keep the two of you entertained for every minute of the day.

You had to admit you were both surprised and shocked when you actually saw the giant crate of activities and games; there were tons of board games, even more possibilities with the decks of cards you saw. There were even a whole slew of movies and a small device which you were told was a projector which would show the movie on any blank white wall, of which there were many to pick from. Mr. Chen was unpacking what seemed to be an endless bottomed box and you weren’t the only curious observer lightly touching the things that interested you the most.

You’d been instructed to grab items and make a stack of things you were interested in doing. You’d reached for one of the word games, one of the ones involving strategic spellings of words which you remember playing as a kid with your Grandmother and you placed it in front of you. This was your pick.

“Oh that one is fun, I haven’t seen this in years,” Kyungsoo’s fingertip touched just on the corner of your game and he picked up another classic with a grin, “this one too,” he said under his breath. It was like he was speaking to himself but he seemed to be adding things to your personal pile.

Did he think he was involved in your pile?

Did he take this, like the cooking exercise, as a team activity? The instructions implied that you were to build your own pile but Kyungsoo had just added Uno to the top of the stack he was building with your first choice board game trapped on the bottom.

You reached for the deck of cards because there was always poker and it also was vital for the backgammon game you’d just grabbed. You slowly began to build a smaller, separate pile beside the one he had commandeered, removing your first choice from underneath his and moving it to your own side.

“Ooo,” his eyes widened and he plopped Monopoly down right on top of your second stack, “I'm gonna kick your ass at that one.”

You lifted his game off of your stack and plopped it roughly down on top of his own stack.

“These are my picks, those are yours,” you mumbled a rhetorical, “who even wants to play monopoly?” You remembered the game being long and tedious. He looked at you and laughed once, grabbing another game, this one a music themed game similar to charades but with musical guesses and you’d heard through friends that he actually had a great singing voice. You never thought you’d actually get to hear it. He pointedly ignored your stack separating attempts and plopped this game on top of your stack.

“You're gonna sit all alone in a corner and play Scrabble by yourself? Come on, quit being stupid.” He ignored the small sound you made and grabbed your games, placed them in the same stack as his games and lifted the whole stack and walked away from you to set them on another table. He was already pulling the lid off of one of his games to start playing it and the other three people in the room quickly followed suit and began to pull chairs out of the table he was setting up. Those traitors. Why did his game get to be played first? You’d been standing at your original spot with your arms folded over your chest when he looked up from the money he was counting and separating to speak to you.

“Come and get your ass handed to you like a good little princess.”

You rolled your eyes harder than you’d rolled them before. You rolled them hard enough to really sell your annoyance at his antics. You rolled them desperately and very convincingly. Inside of your chest there was the most annoying little tickle brought on by his choice of words. This nickname of his for you sure had a way of making everything he said sound just a tiny bit suggestive. Or maybe you had just read too many trashy romance novels in your youth. God, you were lonely.

But more than lonely, right now you were bored. You pulled up to your chair for the game. Javier was the last to sit down after bringing over some snacks and some drinks. You were handed a champagne glass with orange juice and the first sip told you it was heavy on the champagne. It wasn’t even noon yet. He was back to his old tricks when you looked up into his eyes and caught the secretive smile.

Kyungsoo was sipping on a Bloody Mary with a celery stick in it and you braced for the first round of the game. You had always figured he was the competitive type. He had to be in his line of work, to have reached the levels of success as he had reached in such a cut-throat industry. And nearly every interaction you’d had with Kyungsoo had told you such. This man simply had to win. The way he wouldn’t back down from his story and lie against you and that level of stubbornness, well, he basically pitted everything he had against you. This translated into something entirely insane when playing a board game against him.

The first round of the game, when someone would usually settle into the groove of things, rolling their dice and moving their pieces, was unlikely to buy the property they landed on in the very first round — Kyungsoo’s first round came after the rest of the players had had a go around. Mr. Chen had purchased his property, Sara had landed in a space that gave her a few bucks, Javier didn’t buy anything and neither had you. You weren’t particularly interested in the cheap ones at the start of the board. Kyungsoo’s turn came around and he landed on one of Mr. Chen’s neighboring properties and immediately purchased it. Then his deals started. He was making a deal with Mr. Chen. Mr. Chen was accepting. He was grinning widely and spending money like there was no tomorrow. What about the future Kyungsoo? What would you do if you simply went broke? He was buying housing for his land. He was putting up buildings and you watched this crazy man go full tilt into this stupid game.

You figured you needed to do something on your next round and you bought whatever you happened to land on. Not really paying too much attention to deals and such, you weren’t a big negotiator.

The game progressed and every single one of Kyungsoo’s rounds felt exhausting. He was doing quick math, making deals with everyone else at the table, but weirdly he never once tried to make any deals with you. He was putting up more property every single time. You were sure he was nearly broke. There was no way this was sustainable. The deals grew more intricate with each round. There were even loans passing around between Mr. Chen and Kyungsoo who seemed to have developed some sort of a partnership in this.

Again and again, you were overlooked by the man who seemed to be setting up some sort of a scheme. He was the owner or partnered with the owner of nearly every single space in this game. It felt unfair. There should be some sort of a law against this kind of thing, it was like a monopoly — oh god, oh god that was the name of this game. He was an expert at it. He had been planning it from the start and he showed you in particular absolutely no mercy. In every single round, you lost money to him.

His fat stacks of bills grew to obscene amounts and he had to cash in some 5s, 10s, 20s for 100s or 500s. He was relentless with you. But only with you. You noticed he had a lot of leniency on the other players at this table. He giggled and gave Sara a discount with a sweet smile on his face during one of her stays at his fancy property, and when you pointed out that he wasn’t allowed to do that he just shrugged and told you he could do what he wanted with his own property while you sat in jail for four whole rounds, unable to roll doubles to get yourself out. You actually began to enjoy being in jail as you sipped on your third mimosa because at least you weren’t putting your precious money into that man’s demanding palm.

It all came to a head when you had just gotten out of jail and landed in one of his places. You did have enough cash to cover rent but just barely and he sat beside you flush with his cash, property, even get out of jail free cards, which he had traded Javier for a free stay at his most expensive resort for.

You looked at him and he looked at you with the smallest lift of a single eyebrow because he knew you were screwed. You had a single property card left that you had been holding onto to keep him from owning every single space of that color. You swore you wouldn’t give it to him but at this rate you might end up homeless with only this to your name. It was a miserable sort of existence. You couldn't afford not to be in jail and you missed the peace and quiet and free meals of those metal bars that protected you from this mad man.

The more you replayed the entirety of this game, It was becoming more and more evident that his entire game plan had been to bankrupt and ruin you. He made no efforts to partner with you, make deals with you and only ever seemed to create situations that would affect you negatively. He was so good at it too you wondered if he’d been training for years on how to be a grade-A asshole to his friends.

“Can I have a discount?”

“You don't deserve a discount.”

“You gave Sara a discount.”

“Sara isn’t a four-time felon. I might have to charge you even more for a security deposit. Who knows what sorts of sordid things you’ll be up to in there. I know your type.”

Sara’s little metal train play piece had been sitting in the jail space and you watched as she carefully moved her piece to the outer edge so it clearly sat inside the ‘just visiting’ space around the incarcerated section.

“Excuse me, I was not convicted of any crimes. I never even had a trial.” You couldn't help the actual offense you took at his words. Your type? What type? The poor, marginalized, under-educated, school to prison pipeline, falsely accused and incarcerated type? This society has been set up to see you fail. The entire system was against you from the start.

“That’s what they all say,” he laughed out loud, “Everyone in jail swears they are innocent.” His outstretched hand moved closer to you and you hmph-ed back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest.

You were annoyed. You couldn’t help it. He was such a jerk and he was ridiculously against you in this game and in this life. You dropped your voice to a whisper and you leaned in closer to where he sat on his mountain of gold. “Kyungsoo, do you remember when we were cooking breakfast together? Do you remember how well we got along—”

You had his attention. He watched your face with a little lift of his eyebrow, no doubt his mind flying through a multitude of possible things you were about to remind him of — the embraces, the gentle and slow touches between the two of you, the pride in his eyes when you’d done something to please him — he looked down the length of your face as if he was compelled to and when his eyes bounced back up to look into your eyes once more you inhaled to continue speaking, “—when you weren’t allowed to talk?”

He lifted a hand to cover over his mouth and he snorted out a quick and silent laugh. It burst free from him and no amount of steely resolve could have kept that laugh inside of him. His eyes rolled closed with it and then back open and he lifted a hand, palm up and opened and closed his fingers twice. You hadn’t expected any other outcome. Not after basically telling the jerk that your favorite part about him was when he wasn’t speaking.

“You’re mean,” you said with a grumble and a severe pout of your lips, feeling actually upset deep down inside of you at how badly he had been picking on you during this entire game. The others at the table just giggled. “He’s crazy,” you heard Javier and Mr. Chen say to each other. His greedy fingers were leafing through your bills as he grabbed enough money to cover your rent, leaving a few small bills left behind.

By the next round you were bankrupt and out of the game.

You were only his first victim. It wasn’t long before partnerships were quickly abandoned in the name of record-breaking profits and long-time friendships were severed by filthy greed.

You just shook your head each time it happened, adding a loud “I told you not to trust him. Didn’t I warn you? He’s evil!” which was quickly countered with his overly defensive and judgmental rebuttal.

“This is how you play the game, Princess. Don't cry just because you’re bad at it. Think of it this way, you survived for six whole rounds and you even bought and sold property, which is much more than some incredibly stupid people do in their entire lifetimes.”

The group was imploding around you. A heated discussion about loyalty and friendship was being held over the sounds of crinkling bills and plastic clanking as properties were sold off to pay the man who was evil enough to become an actual billionaire if only this game had printed enough fake money to make that happen.

He won the game by crushing everyone else around him. You swore then and there that if you ever had the chance to see this man again, which was unlikely once you left this emergency shelter, if by some twisted nightmare of fate you ever had the misfortune of spending any amount of time with him and you were presented with the invitation to play this game again with him, you would throw yourself off the roof, you would hurl yourself into the sea, you would rather literally watch professional golfing marathons on tv. Never again. Not this game, not with this man.

Everyone needed a break after the game was over. You retreated to your space for a small while, laying down under your comfy down blanket and quickly deciding that you were simply too sick of sleeping to be in here. It was late morning and you’d had a few drinks by now and after leaving your room you wandered through the hallways, finding a space where one too many spiderwebs touched your skin that you just had to turn around and head back toward the kitchen.

It was mostly peaceful and empty here except for one person who stood at the stove. Kyungsoo was doing something in the kitchen and instantly, like a magic potion had been cast you felt all of the hard feelings about that game fade with the possibility that he might be cooking something tasty.

You slinked up by his side and he turned to the sounds of you coming, quickly spinning around and stepping to his ‘interior’ side to block your view of the pot he had on the stove. You didn’t smell anything delicious in the air and his hands were out the moment you arrived, grabbing you by the arms and holding you at a clear distance.

“What are you doing? Go back to your bed.” Your suspicions were raised. He was hiding something delicious. He was about to have ramen, maybe even two packs from the communal goods that Roxy and Jun had left behind and the filthy cheater was about to eat them both all by himself. You didn't see any piles of ingredients anywhere on the countertop

“What are you making?” You were direct with your words. You pushed your shoulders forward, trying to free yourself from his hold. He held on tighter. Behind you on the stove you could hear the bubbling of the water starting to boil. He would have to tend to his secret dish soon to keep from overcooking it. From the few times you’d cooked with him he was a stickler for cooking times and temperatures and doneness levels. He was insane about it.

“No, no, just go away,” you were being shoved backward with the two steps he took foward. His words didn't sound too serious. Whatever it was that he was hiding from you was fair game. You heard the soft grunt as he struggled and you tried to peer your head around his shoulder. He countered by tilting his own head to block you again.

“What are you making? Let me see. You’re sharing with me, I caught you so half is mine.” You were already giggling when you lifted both of your hands like claws and quickly began to stab him with your fingertips right on his ribs. “That makes no sense. Are you a squatter?” He said through a gasp and he yelped and let out some quick giggles with the tickling.

His hands moved from your shoulders to your hands. He was grabbing them and you felt spun in place, suddenly looking at the door with one of his strong arms wrapped around your chest. Your two hands were trapped behind your back and he held on tightly to both of them with his other hand, in an instant he had you trapped and you were facing away from the bubbling pot. Your hands were bound between your two bodies but you could totally still get him from here. You reached again, lower this time, feeling the lower part of his abdomen. You could hear his giggling from beside your head and you swear to God you felt a euphoric sensation pulsing through your entire body to hear it. You felt like you weren’t quite in your right mind, not with the alcohol, not with the desperation for a win against him. You were pressed right up against his body again and why the hell was he so strong? Why did every single touch of his hands feel like it would consume you from within?

“Stop, stop,” he was begging but still refusing to let you go. If he wanted you to stop, wouldn't he have let you go first, his strong hand still held both of yours tightly behind your back and you moved your hand lower, feeling the very real and sudden danger of reaching for a part of him you should never, ever touch. You felt the waistband of his denim shorts, the leather of the belt he wore there and his shirt shifted and you felt the warmth of the bare skin of his belly that surged with each of the heavy breaths he took against your neck. The rough but steady exhales seemed to change when you touched him. Something was changing and you slowed your hand, still pressed up against his skin, your fingertips lightly touching the leather of that belt. His hand that held onto yours moved too and you felt the soft tips of his fingers move just over your hand there. You felt the trembling and staggered touch of his hand. Why was he trembling? Why was his touch more gentle than the previous rough gripping?

“I’ll stop if you stop,” you exhaled into the space in front of you, “besides, I already caught you. There’s no use delaying this.” Curiously, you had both stopped laughing but his arms were still around you, although the tightness of his grip he held you with had let up. You could escape quite easily if you wanted to. You could leave his embrace and you should. You really ought to put a healthy amount of space between the two of you, if you knew how an enemy should be treated, if you knew what was good for you, you would.

You took the smallest step forward, thankful for the drop in temperature that brought just a little bit of sense back into your brain. You took another step forward and his hand that had been holding your hand still gripped along your palm as you moved. You weren't quite sure why you did not feel compelled to let his hand go, you held on to him with the same amount of pressure as he held you and you turned to take one look behind him at the stovetop with the pot that sat bubbling and dancing behind his back.

You saw something green, something green and white standing up inside of that boiling pot of water. Something plastic.

Something hilarious. The crazy man was boiling his toothbrush. You saw it and you covered your mouth to keep the snort from escaping. It didn’t help. You snorted in laughter and you could feel the shift in his body as he sagged his shoulders in defeat.

Kyungsoo was frozen. He made no attempts to stop you from looking just as he hadn’t made any moves to let go of your hand, and when you looked up into his face he was standing with his free hand covering his closed eyes. He was pink.

You were openly laughing and you shook his hand that you still held as you did it, “did you seriously boil your toothbrush, Doh Kyungsoo?”

“Shut up,” he whispered through clenched teeth, “this is why I didn’t want you to see.”

You lifted a hand to lay over his pink cheek and you were almost laughing too hard to get any real words out, “d-did you want to get r-rid of my foot germs, Kyungsoo?”

“Shut up,” you felt the smallest push against your hand away from his face, then another push against your shoulder and he was quickly spinning, letting go of your hand as he did it, as if he hadn’t also been the one to hold onto you for much longer than necessary even long after you’d both swallowed down whatever might been happening with your hands behind your back a few seconds earlier.

“God, you’re so mean to me. I can’t believe you did that. I asked everybody and nobody has any extras. You know the worst part? I can't even tell if you’re telling the truth about it. Did she really use my toothbrush to clean her foot? Did she really scrub between her toes or is she just fucking with me again. You make me feel crazy. All I want to do is brush my teeth…but feet…toes,” he was whining now, full on whining half mixed with giggles because even he knew how insane he sounded. He was using the handle of the toothbrush to stir it into the boiling water. You could feel the spasms of laughter build up again in your belly. You had to hold onto yourself to keep from doubling over.

“Oh so I’m guessing you’re not one of those guys with a foot fetish then,” You joked as you busied yourself now with gathering things so you could make your own damn ramen.

“Sorry to disappoint you but I do not. Even so, a foot fetish is not an ‘ancient bacteria from the dirty floor of an 18th century, spider infested, bunker in my mouth’ fetish. What if you single handedly brought back cholera?”

“I don't think cholera is gone. I think it still lurks.” You still couldn't help the giggles even if you absolutely did not like the idea of your sleeping space being spider infested. You hadn’t quite worked up the courage to inspect all of the dark spaces around your bed for fear of what you might find.

“Great. That’s great news. How long do I need to boil this to kill cholera?” His face was exasperated now, half laughter mixed with a hopelessness that was absolutely adorable on him.

You found yourself staring at him. You came to when he’d long stopped giggling and his eyes bounced a few times over your face, his eyebrows lifting up with the tiniest bounce of his cheekbones, lips lifted in the corners slowly flattening out with the tiniest flinch of his face. It was the winding down of his laughter and he licked his lips, leaving them behind wet.

He cleared his throat. You closed your eyes, unable to keep them completely closed, your eyelids fluttered, fighting you to open back up and look at him for longer, and the breath you inhaled didn’t seem to help with any of this.

You needed something to do. You’d gathered some packs of ramen and the camping stove and fuel from the communal table and you plopped it all down on the countertop beside his boiling pot o’ toothbrush.

“Make me ramen,” you said with a little lift in your voice and tilt of your head. Not quite a request, not quite a command, more of a sweet suggestion. “Think they’d let us eat outside on the patio? I think the wind has died down a lot. It’s just raining now”

He’d finally reached some imaginary bacteria killing length of boiling time and he was tapping the toothbrush on the side of the pan to remove the excess water.

“You’re not going to try and commit suicide again are you?”

You shook your head back and forth, placing your hand over your heart, “I won't even go close to the edge, I promise.”

“Your promises mean nothing.” He deadpanned, but he was reaching into the fridge for some eggs, reaching into the shelves for the cans of spam he’d put there and stacking it all up on top of the the stove as he made his way toward the patio door.

“Bring the water bottle there,” he pointed to the countertop and you grabbed the big bottle and brought it along with the pan for him to cook in, and some chopsticks and spoons for both of you. For the first time since this trip started you cautiously began to feel a little bit happy to be here with him. He would make you delicious ramen and maybe you’d get to steal some more glances at his pretty face without getting caught.

He’d already been out on the patio to drop off the supplies by the time you came to the door with your arms full, he held the door for you. He seemed to be going back inside for something and you heard him call back toward you, “Hey! My batteries. You never gave them to me. I’ll bring them with the radio.”

So much had happened since then that you had just forgotten about them. You simply nodded as a response and told him they were in your luggage by the bed; wondering when in the hell you began to feel so comfortable with this man and you felt no qualms about sending him rooting through your luggage to find the batteries himself. You knew he’d have to get through many items such as the underwear you’d brought, the bikini he had already seen you in, the personal items such as your perfume, makeup, and your deodorant. All of those things were right there for him to witness. Little human things that had no business being embarrassing but were nonetheless.

A sudden panic built when you remembered a particular pack of items that you had brought along to this retreat that you’d all but given up on getting the chance to use here, the box of condoms you’d stuffed into your bag at the last minute. They would have been within touching distance of your big pack of batteries. There was no way he wouldn’t see them.

He took a while to return. You used that time to build up a thoroughly deep-set sense of embarrassment for what sordid conclusions you were sure he would have jumped to about you. Perhaps he’d find you to be some easy or cheap floozy. You were an adult. You were allowed to partake in and enjoy sex. You were healthy and alive and you had regular doctors appointments and you took your sexual health seriously. Why did it feel so weird though? That he might know this about you when he saw them; that he might have an opinion on the quantity of condoms in the box, a generous 20 pack, not because — not because you intended on having sex 20 times in a single week but, but because — Well … well, what if? The packs they had at the store came in 3, 10, or 20 and what if you had met the love of your life here and what if you just had to close up shop after 10? What if time number 11 was going to be the best time? You were thoroughly overthinking this. You were an expert at this, overthinking things and making yourself feel embarrassed for no reason especially when it came to Doh Kyungsoo. It was practically your default setting with him.

The door opened and you jumped in surprise; halfway through the scenario you’d imagined in which you hadn’t brought the brand new pack of 20 condoms and instead had just tossed in the already open box of 5 with one missing because you were curious about just how stretchy they actually were and you opened it to blow it up into a balloon. It was actually very stretchy and you might have just kept on blowing if you hadn’t been gagging from how awful the spermicidal liquid that filled it tasted when it got on your lips. Imagine if he found the open box with one missing already! Who had you used that one condom on at this stage in the game?! What would he think then?! You felt dizzy.

He was pushing through the doorway with a six pack of beers he’d swiped from Javier’s stash and he had his radio in one hand and in his other he gripped the batteries he’d found in your luggage right beside the big box of your stupid condoms.

He sat down on the bench beside you and you watched as he opened the little flap on the back of his radio and inserted each battery carefully, bringing it to life and switching between staticky radio stations until something clear sounded through with easy to listen to pop music playing. When he moved down to sit on the floor where the stove was set up, you quietly moved down to sit beside him.

You watched him work, feeling the very real remnants of the embarrassment you’d tricked yourself into feeling earlier still lingering in the warmth of your cheeks. He was setting up the stove and filling the pan with water, he was opening the packets of ramen and setting the flame to the right height below the pan.

You felt the need to do something too so you reached for the bags of snacks you’d brought, opening the bag and laying it flat, then reaching for the beers, pulling two off the plastic ring and opening them. You met his eyes briefly as he grabbed the beer you offered and after he took a sip of it he set it down and stared down at the pan full of water, just waiting for it to boil. He was quiet for a while until he inhaled to speak to you. You knew he had inhaled because you’d been staring at his face when he did it, when his pink lips parted and he pulled the breath in through his mouth and those lips stayed open enough for some words to come out.

“You alright?”

It was a small and quick question. He lifted his beer and tilted his head for the drink, a small stream of the liquid pooled inside his mouth and he dropped the can as he closed his mouth and swallowed it.

“Yeah,” you whispered just barely loud enough to be heard over the rain, “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, half of a shrug really. Barely even a shrug. “You’ve gone quiet,” he said and after the words his lips stayed open and you could see the tip of his tongue touching along the edge of his teeth for a moment. His eyebrows ticked above his eyes. “You’ve gone pink, too.”

You lifted your beer and took a big drink of it, holding the can up to lay over your cheeks. You could feel the heat in your face and the cold can helped just a little bit.

Not that he deserved it, but you felt weirdly compelled to fess up. You knew you were acting weird.

“I feel a little,” you started, turning your face away from him to continue, “weird…about something.”

“Weird like what? What about?” You hadn’t felt quite this disarmed around him before. It felt dangerous to let yourself speak so easily with him.

“Weird cause you hate me?” His next question came out very quietly and you pulled your eyes away from the raindrops steadily falling over to look at his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, finding the denial ready and heavy on your tongue. It was stuck there though and you closed your mouth back up and lifted the beer to take a long drink instead. The best you could do was the small head shake. You inhaled a breath and found he’d looked up from his boiling water to watch your face for your response.

Did he really want to ruin this nice moment to get into all of that right now?

“The water is boiling,” you said, meeting his eyes that still watched you without moving for two more swallows from this beer can you’d held onto for dear life.

He seemed to let it go. He was adding noodles and cracking eggs all fancy and one-handed, adding sliced spam and green onions on top. He was lightly prodding it all with the tips of his chopsticks and handing you the lid to use to catch the dripping noodles when they were done cooking.

You both grabbed noodles to eat at the same time and after he’d slurped up a particularly hot and noisy bite he sighed heavily while looking out toward the rain storm.

“Ramen really is the perfect food,” he remarked with his cheeks full of noodles.

Your nose was running a little from the steam and the spiciness of the broth but you held a ball of chewy and delicious noodles in your cheek and nodded your head earnestly. They were delicious and followed with the beer was even better than anything any 5 star chef could possibly whip up in the fanciest of kitchens.

It was when your mouth was filled with another bite some time later that he inhaled again, satisfied with his belly full of noodles, he turned to you and opened his mouth. His eyes narrowed at you before he said it.

“Twenty feels like a lot, though,” he said it so abruptly and you choked on the soup you were swallowing and started to cough, which he ignored, “logistically, I mean. This was originally a 5-day retreat.”

His eyes were still narrowed in your direction and you lifted a handful of the chips you’d opened up and threw several right at his face. His lips pulled into a teasing smile and he lifted a hand and swatted a few of the chips away. Two of them hit him in the face. His lips were pulled into a grin. You were still coughing and trying to keep your laughing from making you choke any more.

“No, no, listen,” he was laughing a little bit through the teasing, “that’s five times every single day, including day one. That means on day one, you have to have sex five times. Is it five different guys, or maybe two times for one guy, three times for another one? Or — god, is it one guy, five times in one day? Isn’t that too much pressure?”

You couldn’t breathe. You were laughing that painful laugh that takes every ounce of your oxygen away from you and never gave you a moment to pause for an inhale. You might just die right here, teased to death because Kyungsoo found your condoms.

“You just met them! I mean, I know that you’re obviously a beautiful woman. I will admit that,” his hand was lifted to his chest as he spoke, “and it’s much easier for a woman, especially one like you, to get laid; but five times? bam-bam-bam-bam-bam,” his hands were up and he was hitting one off the other one, a visual representation of the insane amount of sex you were having in this hypothetical scenario he was describing and you were trying your absolute best to breathe through your laughter. You felt tears running down your face from it.

He wouldn’t quit, “Sex. Straight away. No names, no facts about them, no rest because there’s no time. Right from day one, just … fucking. And then you have to keep up that momentum. Every single day, five times. It’s insane! How would you have time for anything else? Do you eat? Sleep? Shower?”

You’d moved at that point in his speech. You had leapt toward him. You needed to end this once and for all. This was what you feared might happen. You were laughing too much at his ridiculous analysis of the logistics of you bringing twenty condoms with you to be able to speak at all, you simply moved closer to where he sat on the other side of this pot of noodles and you reached up for him with both of your hands. You needed to stop him. One of your hands landed over his open mouth and you covered it tightly, the other one you wrapped around his shoulders trying to give yourself some leverage to stop him from talking about it.

He lifted a hand and pulled yours down from his lips, managing to eke out another giggle and a few more words, “t-twenty c-condoms,” he managed to get out and you struggled to pull your hand free so you could cover his mouth again. He was shaking with his laughter and you squeezed as tightly as you could, finding yourself practically sitting in his lap in the efforts to silence him. If he died from this he deserved it.

“Shut up, shut up, oh my god, shut up,” you cried through the horrified giggles, squeezing him tighter to try and end everything embarrassing that was happening right now. You hardly even felt the other hand of his that wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him to keep you from falling into the hot noodles and burning yourself. It made your thighs part up high on his lap, right near his waist. The shorts you wore were so short you could feel the scratchiness of his jean shorts against your bare inner thighs. You could feel the warmth of him between your legs and you tried not to imagine how very tightly you were actually pressed up against his body, the warmth between your legs embracing the warmth of him. His grip around you was tight and this was probably only to keep you safe — the liability that you were, afterall.

You couldn’t have been the only one. There was just no way a single adult would come to something like this and not come prepared. When you managed to stop laughing enough to talk, you asked him.

“How many did you bring? And don’t lie to me and say you didn’t bring any.”

You released his mouth just so he could answer you and you watched his lips from up close as he licked them and opened his mouth to speak. You caught motion from his free hand and he held up his five fingers and his mouth silently spoke out the number.

“Five?” You flinched on top of him and his hand tightened around your waist, immediately pulling you back into him when you sagged away. You were slowly becoming more aware of how very close you were to him right now. The smallest shift of your hips and you would easily be straddling his waist. There was a growing humidity that built between the two of you where you connected with him here.

“Five,” he said with a slip of his eyes down on your lips, “a completely normal and reasonable pack of five.”

He bit down on his lips after the confession and you felt the muscles in his thighs below your ass shift, he wiggled just a little bit and with the wiggle you felt the slight change in how you sat on him. With that wiggle you could feel just a little more of his lap that you sat on and you could make out a definite flush in his cheeks, his ears, and the back of his neck. His lips in particular looked pinker when he bit down on them again and you struggled to pull your eyes up from them. You shouldn’t stare so long at his mouth. It brought up memories of the way he felt when he kissed you.

You could hardly make sense of his number though. You pulled your face back and shook your head in disbelief. You didn’t buy it.

“Just five?” You argued, “but — but what if you met the love of your life here and you’re both crazy about each other and wanted to just lock yourselves in a room for the whole week?”

He was giggling. You could feel it in his abdomen next to your inner thigh. Below your legs he felt firm and tense and his hand shifted as he adjusted his grip on you. His fingertips slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt and he felt even warmer than your burning skin felt that he now touched. His eyes were down on your lips again.

You couldn’t do this. You had to do something to stop this. This had crossed some sort of a line already.

“Well, maybe she’d be that one psychopath that brought twenty condoms with her.”

His words came out so quickly and they hit you like an electric shock.

The reality of this was back. It was an uncomfortable and dangerous feeling. It was splashing you in the face with cool water and you could feel the wrongness in it. This funny joke had gone too far. You saw it in his own severe reaction to what he had just said to you. He’d meant it as a joke, ultimately it had just been a funny joke.

After he spoke it, his lips flattened and the pinkness in his cheeks grew. His eyes which had been so playful suddenly dropped and he cleared his throat at the same time as you allowed gravity to take your balance and shift it away from him. His hand left your waist immediately and you scooted back and away from him, retreating to the other side of the noodles, off of his lap and out of his arms, where it was in your best interest to stay for good.

You had a renewed interest in your beer can. The brand was something local that you’d never had before and you read the back label from top to bottom without skipping a single word and without digesting a single word either. You could make out his movement from your peripheral vision and you heard the click and hiss of another beer can being opened, followed instantly by a second. It pulled your attention up from your own empty can and Kyungsoo was leaning forward with the beer in his hand for you to take, his flighty eyes not quite meeting yours except for the briefest of touches.

Without him perceiving you so closely you could feel yourself relaxing a little bit from the earlier humiliation and laughing fit turned inappropriate and stifling closeness that nearly suffocated you both with the unexplainable thickness of the air that had built up between the two of you.

Halfway through this beer Kyungsoo inhaled deeply, opened his mouth and asked you a silly question.

“Zombie invasion or Vampires?” he asked and you swallowed what was inside your mouth and looked into his face. He was looking down at his beer can absentmindedly while he clicked the tab with his thumb. It took you only a few seconds of thought and you shrugged, “Vampires, I guess.”

He nodded his head once and shrugged his face, “they’re only a problem at night,” he said in agreement. It was the same thought that you had about them. Zombies seemed like an all the time problem. Vampires would be solved with a curfew.

”Watching sports or playing sports?” You asked suddenly, figuring that this game involved taking turns. His eyes were lifted up into the air above his head and he pursed his lips, “playing sports, I guess.”

“Same.” You were nodding in agreement, finding sports on TV too boring to handle you much more enjoyed playing them even if you were never really great at any one sport in particular.

“Singing or Dancing?” It was his turn to ask.

You really enjoyed singing when you were alone, but you weren’t the kind of person to be able to do it in front of anyone. Still, if you had to pick one, you’d pick singing. You answered as such and his head ticked to the side with a cute eyebrow lift and a smile.

“Singing,” he said in agreement with you and you nodded your head, hoping he wouldn’t expect you to actually be any good at it. This was about enjoyment, not talent.

“Win the lottery or find your soulmate?” This one had him thinking. He had been such a crazy person while playing Monopoly you figured he would pick the money but after a few minutes of thought he shrugged and took a sip of his beer giving a soft “soulmate,” as his answer.

“Ohhhh, I didn’t expect that from you.” You teased and you swallowed more of your beer emptying the can completely as he watched your face for a few moments, probably expecting you to answer this one. You only nodded your head as a response. He lifted his eyebrows in question and you nodded again, confirming without words that you had the same response as he did. It was kind of spooky how many answers you both shared. Even weirder still that he understood what you were saying without you having to actually speak with him. It was something you’d noticed during some of the cooking challenges, the odd unspoken communication that just came easy with him.

“Right or left?” He asked very suddenly with a wide smile and you lifted up your right hand, shouting “exterior!” proudly and instantly. His eyes widened and gave you a round of applause before he asked another question, “East or west?” This one didn’t work. You lifted your hand and scratched at your lip, avoiding his eyes and pointing a finger in some direction that you’d just picked at random.

“That’s South.” He shook his head and furrowed his brows, “boooo,” he jeered at you and you shrugged in a hopeless sort of way with a giggle. “It moves around,” you whined and he shook his head slowly at you. “It absolutely does not. You move, it stays where it is.”

The sound of the patio door opening startled you both and you turned to see Sara sheepishly peeking her head out through the opening.

“Oh, here you are. I thought I heard laughing,” she said in her sweet voice, “we’re just starting a movie marathon, do you both want to join?”

It sounded fun actually. You’d wondered how much longer you two could play this or that before running out of ideas and you were nodding your head enthusiastically, pushing yourself up to your feet before Kyungsoo even had a chance to register the question.

“Oh, uhh — alright,” he said softly as if he’s only just now realized that he had been spending all of this time with you alone, the enemy — out of what, pure love for ramen? Need for fresh air and a distraction from the tedium? There was a movie marathon happening now, that was real entertainment. Not just a crazy girl who he could make fun of for packing way too many condoms for a 5-day trip, who doesn’t know directions, and who does awful things to him like call him mean names, attack his ribs because that’s where he’s the most ticklish, tries to suffocate him any chance she gets, and does terrible awful things to his toothbrush.

You were already cleaning up the space and gathering trash and used utensils to bring inside. Kyungsoo was only now standing up and picking up the last few beer cans and the remains of the delicious ramen he had made for you.

Inside of the kitchen the others had brought over some spare mattresses and pillows and laid them all out on the floor — they had turned out the lights and they were projecting a movie on the big blank wall.

It was something you hadn’t ever seen before, something grand and epic with a large sweeping universe, action, adventure and romance all in one. It honestly felt perfect for a movie marathon.

You could smell the microwave popcorn and you already had a cold beer waiting for you on one of the floor mattresses. You had a pile of pillows at your back and someone, god bless them, had gone into your room and brought your lovely winner’s blanket.

You eyed the rest of the group as they settled down in spots around the space, specifically leaving the space right beside you open for Kyungsoo. You noticed a cold beer next to his side as well. Normally you’d have gone out of your way to find another spot to sit. Or even drag a big heavy mattress over to use instead of having to share the same one with him. But now the movie was starting and there was really not enough time for all of that. You scooted closest to the edge of this mattress and out of your peripheral vision you saw him come up to the other side of this mattress and he sunk down into it, grabbing the beer and sitting a lot further away from the edge than you had done.

He wasn’t going out of his way to put as much space between the two of you as you had been. The lights were out and the movie began playing and soon this sitting at the very edge of this thing was becoming a bit too uncomfortable so you scooted yourself just a little bit closer to where he sat.

When you scooted though, you could suddenly feel the warmth of his thigh next to yours and as you adjusted you leaned against some of the pillows propped up behind your back, finding a bit more support when you leaned just slightly against his arm. You’d pulled your blanket up over your legs and pretended not to notice when his hand pulled the blanket over his legs too.

The movies were long and involved. Occasionally your mind would drift too far from the plot and the small whispered questions like, “wait, who is that guy again?” Would be met with whispered responses, “that’s the admiral’s son,” and your follow up realizations like, “ohh my god that’s why he’s being hunted,” got a white little hum as a response from him.

While you tried your best not to interrupt his movie watching experience you felt strangely comfortable asking him every single question that popped into your head and based on his calm responses you didn’t think he even minded it all that much.

The movie gave you whiplash though. It was quick with the surprises and it had reached a point when you’d already jumped four times from the dramatic twists and turns and you could feel some very real danger for the main hero when he found himself down in a dark pit, seemingly at the end of his luck. You could feel a creepy crawling sensation slipping up your back when you first saw them; it was spiders. Spiders. You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach and you felt your breath feel sticky in your heavy lungs. There were so many. You were gasping. You were desperate for air but your lungs wouldn’t cooperate. Hundreds. Thousands of enormous, hairy spiders with thousands of legs and fangs; the sounds of their skittering feet and chomping jaws — the rooms filled with their webs, and human sized bodies trapped in those webs, wrapped up and wriggling and screaming. You felt your hands shaking and you had to close your eyes. You couldn't breathe. You couldn’t stop it. You were going to die right here without oxygen. You couldn’t stop it. You could feel their legs crawling all over your skin and you could feel their fangs sinking down into your skin. Ripping out chunks of your flesh. Burrowing under your skin. You had to dip your head down under the blanket and you were trembling all over and you couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” you heard his low voice whisper out into your ear over the sound of the screaming, “hey, hey. Shh… you’re okay.” He was talking to you. You felt his arms rubbing over your back, you felt his arms wrap around your shoulders and he was rubbing you up and down in long slow pressured passes over your skin, shushing into your ear and willing you to calm down with the warmth of his cheek pressed up against your cheek.

“Shhh…They’re not real.”

“They can’t hurt you.”

“You are safe here.”

“You’re okay, honey, you’re alright.”

“Breathe in slowly,” he mentored the deep and slow breaths he urged you to take. You felt the slow rise of his chest as he did it. You gasped and your lungs stuttered as you tried to copy him.

“And out, slowly.” You felt the slow exhale he let out. He was so close, his breath warmed your face.

It took a long while. Your breathing was the first to begin to settle.

You’d lifted your face from where you’d been hiding against his chest and you found that you had been crying. It took you a few deep breaths to get your breathing to actually start to settle down and his words began to really sink in. You’d had some sort of a panic attack at the thought of all of those spiders and you must have been so stressed out lately being here with all of those bugs around you constantly, you’d simply lost your touch with reality for a moment.

“A-Are they gone yet?” You had it under control. You understood what had happened and you simply lost your mind for a short while but he brought you back. It was just panic. It happened occasionally and on those rare times when it took you over so completely, it took you hours to finally calm down. But here, here with him; he had been so quick to understand what was happening and he had been so steady and strong with his words and his distracting comfort. You felt taken aback and stunned.

It took him a few moments to lift his head out of the blanket and when he came back to you he gave you the smallest squeeze on your hand that he was holding and you knew it was over.

“They are gone,” he leaned his forehead against yours under this blanket and whispered the answer to your question.

“T-Thank you,” you whispered and you wiped your face with the back of your hand. You felt the small hum from his chest as a response and you held your breath when you felt the soft pads of his thumbs wiping the wetness from your cheeks. You felt like a mess. What a ridiculous human being you were. Unable to handle a little bit of fake spiders in a fake movie, you felt like an idiot. The shame from this was next to flood through your body and you whispered out a quiet word to him, “sorry.”

You felt his head shaking back and forth and he had already pulled both of your heads out from under the blanket that was quickly growing stuffy from the heat from both of your bodies.

“Don’t be. You’re fine.” He said it in such a matter of fact way, it felt so very true and finite. Don’t be sorry. You are fine. Then he squeezed down harder on your hand which he still held down somewhere under this blanket.

He wasn't letting you go. Was this just you being a liability again? Was he trying to keep you from weeping and screaming and causing a scene? You felt so caught off guard and nervous with him holding your hand like this that you felt too scared to move.

This fucking movie though, the whiplash continued because in front of you now, unfolded a sensual romantic scene. With you and Kyungsoo sharing this blanket with you on the same mattress and with your hand held tightly within his own, his fingers intertwined now within yours and the heavy weight of his bare knee resting atop of your bare thigh. They were kissing now. He had just walked in on her in the shower and he had shoved her roughly against the marble wall of the fancy hotel room and his hands moved to cup her bare breasts. The camera zoomed in on her nipples and his hands roughly gripped her ass. You stared ahead with your teeth biting down hard on your own lips when you felt the loosening of Kyungsoo’s hand as he straightened his posture and cleared his throat, and unwound your fingers from his fingers, your hand from his hand, he unceremoniously dropped you entirely and pulled his own hands together securely onto his own lap.

You felt oddly slighted but the scene had been too close to your first kiss with him for either of you to withstand.

The pair on the screen were fucking on a bed now. Seeing the quick progression of the love scene made you slightly thankful that he had let go of your hand when he did, even if you did feel a strange twinge in your throat for having been dropped like a hot potato by the man, his timing was spot on.

The second movie had finished. This was a trilogy and you’d all been watching this for hours now. You felt the need to get up and move your body some as a few of the others had done throughout the film.

You’d managed to untangle yourself from the blanket. Kyungsoo didn’t move when you left. He had taken on a more relaxed posture on the blankets and only the very slight reflection of the screen on his eyes gave you any indication that he was awake. But now when you looked at him, you no longer saw the reflection. His eyes seemed to be closed. You’d woken him up so early this morning; already it felt like ages ago.

In the back of this big room you caught sigh of Sara who had been pacing with an odd posture. You noticed she hadn’t laid down much on the mattresses during the films and she had opted for sitting up in a chair. She’d mentioned with a smile that if she got all the way down there she might not be able to get back up. Still, she was no longer seated but just doing slow and careful walking exercises here in the far back wall.

She caught your motion to join her and her shoulders straightened out as she greeted you with a smile. You noticed her hand fell down from where she had been touching her belly. Her smile was so bright that you figured she had just been absentmindedly touching her baby rather than feeling any sorts of discomfort.

“Are you here to join me in my walks?” She reached for you and linked elbows with you the moment you were within touching distance and you giggled beside this sweet woman and fell into step beside her.

You both took several slow and steady steps in a big lazy circle around the large open space. After a few moments of walking she squeezed a hand around your forearm and giggled into your ear beside you. “Has he kissed you yet?”

Always straight and to the point. You looked into her face with wide eyes and you could feel the heat filling your cheeks with the answer basically broadcasted with your reaction and her smiled widened further with the quiet little yelp of excitement that erupted from her chest.

“But he didn’t mean it,” you said in a whisper. She was still smiling and she nodded her head up and down, “Sara, he was just drunk.” She was giggling with her hand covering her mouth to keep her volume down.

“Oh psshh…” she waved a dismissive hand. “They never mean it,” she whispered, “until they do,” she added with a slow rub over her belly and a wild giggle and you gasped scandalously and tapped her arm to get her to cut that out. Your wordless denials had absolutely no effect on her. She had long ago left reality and now resided deep in la-la land.

“I am so serious,” she whispered with her head dipped down beside your face, “you don’t see the way he looks at you — no, the way he stares at you. If I didn’t know for the fact that he was terribly, hopelessly,” she inhaled and leaned into the dramatics with a suggestive whispered groan, “desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes.”

She lifted her head and touched the tip of her index finger to her chin, “actually I think it might be that too. He wants you to burn for him the way he burns for you. Gahhhhhh—” she was squealing again. You had to shush her to remind her to keep her voice down. Strangely she quit squealing quite abruptly and her hand was touching over her belly again with the smallest gasp.

This couldn’t have been a coincidence, you’d seen her touching her belly many times at this point with a sort of pensive look in her eyes.

“Sara, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Her mouth was shaped into an o and she exhaled slowly through her mouth.

“Just, normal aches and pains involved with growing a person inside of your body. It’ll pass,” she was assuring you of this but you couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered her forehead.

“Come sit down,” you pulled lightly on her arm, urging her to relax now but she pulled you back.

“The walking helps,” she said with her eyebrows furrowed together and her slow and steady exhale leaving her chest in a purposeful rhythm.

You felt a surge of worry with the realization that you had been watching her walking in slow and steady circles for the better part of three hours now. The walking helps, helps with what? Was she in labor?

“How long are the pauses in between?”

“It was — hours but they’re getting closer. It’s probably nothing,” her smile was back. She’d straightened out her shoulders and shrugged lightly, as if having a baby right now in the wake of a strong hurricane while not in a hospital was no big deal at all.

“We have to tell someone,” you said, moving through the large space of this industrial kitchen until you reached the space where the movie was playing. You found a sleeping Javier and a groggy Mr. Chen who noticed your movement. You kneeled down and whispered into his ear. He caught the important words, namely ‘Sara’ and ‘baby,’ and he was standing up instantly, tapping Javier roughly on the arm who woke up with a start.

“Javier, get up. Your wife is in labor. I have to call her sister. Oh my god, I’m going to be an uncle.”

Wife? Javier and Sara are married to each other? Uncle? Were all of these people part of the same family? The words came at shock to you and their quick movement woke Kyungsoo who sat up and rubbed his eyes.

The movie was turned off. There was a flurry of activity and movement and Mr. Chen and Javier were arguing with an impossibly stubborn pregnant woman who was so clearly in labor that she had to pause every ten minutes for breathing exercises before she would continue with her denials.

“I just don’t want to miss them,” she whined with a deep frown on her face and she motioned toward where you and Kyungsoo stood, “they got so close, it almost happened. And you’re telling me I can’t just cross my legs and go later? I think I can hold it.”

Sara was crying. She was irrationally invested in You and Kyungsoo’s story and she was in pain.

You assured her that there was nothing important here that she was going to miss and she needed to go with Mr. Chen and Javier now. She needed to go meet her new baby. They were headed to the hospital. Mr. Chen assured us that he was an expert at navigating the treacherous weather worn and flooded roads of this island and he would deliver her there safely. He even promised to return tomorrow as soon as he was able to and Kyungsoo got everyone’s phone number so they could send updates.

The big heavy door to the front of the building closed shut tight with a heavy bang and you found yourself standing in absolute silence opposite an equally quiet Kyungsoo. For the first time since you’d met him you were really completely and undeniably alone with the man who — against every single desperate and gasping breath and scream as evidence of your stubborn denial — alone with the man who you were in love with.

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

[s0ft-d3cay]

Our Home

Shigaraki x Male Reader | I had some family shit that came up so my writing might be more comforting and lovey dovey for a bit. Just a heads up! Hope you have a lovey day/night!!!!

WARNINGS: they make out, lots of kisses, cute domestic gay couple stuff because I need it, Tomura calls the reader a brat(Lovingly), its RELLY cute, use of Y/N

WC:1,273

"Do you want me to carry you home?" Tomura asked teasingly, the two coated in blood and dust equally. The remains of heroes now staining their clothing, Y/N couldn’t care less about the mess. Plus…the man had a way of making blood look hot on him and Y/N could never resist the sight of the liquid crimson on the other man’s pale skin.

His brain turned to mush at the small question, grinning as he wipes off his weapon. The mere idea of something so small and domestic made his heart skip. Y/N chuckle at his offer. "I would absolutely love for you to carry me home, Tomura." Y/N replied, the red eyed man grumbled out an order to the doctor. Black oil-like substance formed a poorly made portal to a lone watchtower, one Y/N had revamped to his home.

Ecstatic, Tomura moved to pick up the other man in his arms, holding him close against his chest. Looking down at Y/N with a winning smile nuzzling his cheek with his boyfriends. "You comfortable, brat?" Y/N chuckles. “Very, now come on I want you to see the house!” With an excited giggle, Y/N replied. His gaze taking in his pretty boyfriend, wandering over every detail of him.

Glances at the portal, Tomura turns his attention back towards Y/N, his expression glee and amusement as he replies. “You’re really hyping up this house of ours.” Walking through the transporting oil-like substance. Both of them now on the first floor of the watchtower. A lone two story compacted building surrounded by thick evergreen trees. Standing in front of the door to the house, a set of stairs lead to the second floor and ground below split a few feet from the door.

Tomura’s red eyes took in the environment around him silently, before he speaks up. "Your house is amazing. How did you find this?” He questioned in wonder, eyes still wavering over the building. Y/N chuckles, "Found it for sale years back, thought maybe one day I could take a break and rest.” He said bashfully with a shy smile, tilting his head towards the door in front of them. Three windows lined along the left side, sun catchers gleaming within the house. Turning and glowing with beaming rainbows cascading on the wooden deck.

The villain leaner steps in hesitantly. The house held a large bed beneath below the line and corner of windows, a full kitchen on the right in front of the door, and a couch in the far left corner of the room. The bed lays messily in sea-foam green covers, a few earthy tone rugs in rusted red and blotched greens. The kitchen fair full with a dishwasher, fridge, stone and microwave. And the lone gray couch set against the wall, what looks to be a projector hung up on the ceiling.

"It’s so lovely…feel like we’ve been here for years.” He commented with a grin, still holding the other man in his arms as he walks deeper into the house. Y/N's eyes fondly looking over all his hard work. The white haired man looking around in thought. His red eyes lingerer over the bed, "Do you mind if I…put you on the bed and we cuddle? I wanna lay with you.” He uttered softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the man’s forehead.

Y/N ponders the cuddling idea for a second before another idea come to mind. "Could I show you around the place real quick? Each room I show you, I’ll kiss you.” The man teasingly asked, his arms tightened around Tomura’s neck. "Please!” Y/N begged cutely, blinking rapidly as he playfully pouts.

“Hmm, sounds like we’re gonna have a lot of kisses...” He replies, chuckling as his eyes rolled. "I can see why you wanted to come here to relax, this place feels…cozy yet beautiful at the same time. You did an amazing job with finding this place, Y/N…” The villain praised sweetly with his raspy voice.

"And…the decorations as well as rebuilding, my love.” Y/N added on, placing a tender kiss to Tomura’s dry lips. His own soft and plush against his boyfriends rough ones. Feeling the hair white haired put him down to stand through the progressive heated kiss. "You did all of that? You truly are the jack of all trades.” The white haired man muttered out with a soft grin, kissing the man again. Y/N hummed through the second kiss, his lips curling and melting to his partners.

Y/N hum dreamily as he continued to complement his hard work. Breathlessly pulling away from their connected lips, hands moving down to Y/N's waist. Keeping the man close to brush his lips once more…then again and again, Y/N’s heart pounded with a giddy thrill. Beginning to walk through the house.

"Here we have a lovely kitchen…” Y/N leaned up to kissing him again. "Mmm…~” Tomura hums pleasantly, leaning the front of his body flush against the other man. Pulling away to halfway glance at the kitchen, then back at Y/N. Red eyes now focused on Y/N's kissed stained lips, his tongue licking his own in eager anticipation.

"What else do you have here in this lovely house of ours, brat?” Tomura questioned with a warm smile on his blood and dirt covered face. Y/N pulled him farther into the house, resting his back against the far wall as he opened a sliding door on the other end of the house. A few steps away from the couch. "Full bathroom with a tub, shower and a washer and dryer in the corner.” The man quickly uttered, allowing the other man time to look into the room. Impressed, Tomura looks around the space, his red gaze falling back to his boyfriend. Grinning as he saw him standing beside the door.

"We have our very own bathroom as well?” He asked in a soft grumble, Y/N nodded with a bright smile, pulling his boyfriend in for another kiss by his collar. This one slow and savory between the two men, Y/N pulls away with an audible pop. "Yes, we have our own bathroom…” The blush on Tomura’s face after the kiss looked angelic, given the white haired man was always angelic in Y/N’s opinion. But his soften expression, those wide eye. Y/N could replay that expression over and over again. With a shaky breath, the villain pressed his lips to Y/N's again, pushing him to the wall. A whine at the pressure of his body pinned to the wall slips past his lips in passion and hunger.

Y/N breath catch in his throat after the series kisses, leading his boyfriend toward the welcoming bed in the opposite corner, he continues. "The couch in the corner and the wall, I wanted it to be like a big nest. And right there is my record player, I connected it to speakers surrounding both levels and the outside."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Y/N watching his lover’s gaze gleam in fond admiration. "That’s it for the first floor, what do you think?” Waiting for him to both reply and join him on the comfortable bed. Tomura walks over, his excitement plain as day on his face. Jumping on the bed, laying face first with open arms and legs against the sheets and blankets Y/N laugh out, turning on the mattress. Tomura glances over at the other man from the sheets, grinning wide like a child.

"This house is so fucking cool, Y/N! I love how big the bed is and I love that there's music! This place is perfect!” He says before sitting up to kiss the man passionately and lovingly. Sighing dreamily kissing back, Y/N crawls over on top of his boyfriend, holding him close against himself. Feeling the infinite love for Tomura flow through his veins.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights of any of the characters I write about, all the rights go to their respective creators.

[dearly-somber]

20/20 Vision | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. slow burn, fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, mutual pining, unrequited love, drama, high school!au, university!au, eventual romance, eventual smut

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 897

-> warnings. Literally nothing this is pure fluff 🥹🤍

-> a/n. Glasses!Kook origin story!! Y/N lore drop!! (P.S. This takes place before Because It’s Soft!)

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Dec. 9th, 2023 @ 10:03

-> fin. Sun., Jan. 28th, 2024 @ 12:31

-> edited. Thurs., Feb. 1st, 2024 @ 17:44

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

You knew something was up when Jungkook—a boy who’d once spotted a squirrel in the road while driving at nearly 100kph—started squinting at the projector not even five meters in front of him.

Even though the two of you sat around the middle of your class, you’d frequently turn to find him angrily squinting at the board, struggling to read your smaller than average handwriting even though he’d never found it difficult before.

Now, sitting in your living room with homework strewn all along the floors and Jungkook nose deep his English textbook, you finally come to the conclusion that his vision might not be so 20/20 anymore.

“Jungkook,” you say concerned as he lets out a frustrated sigh, sitting upright with a frown etched deeply into his face.

“I can’t see,” he complains, groaning and rubbing at his temples. “And my head feels like it’s about to explode.”

You reach out to run your hand through his hair, biting on your lip when he unhesitatingly leans into the touch. “You can’t see?”

“No,” he pouts. “Everything’s blurry.”

“Jungkook.” You rub at his earlobe once before pulling away, searching his face with a pitying smile. “The font isn’t that small—I can read it just fine from where I’m sitting.”

He manages to look offended. “Okay. And?”

You sigh, placing your hand over his, like you’re about to deliver some bad news. For someone so smart, he can be so dumb. “I think you should see an optometrist.”

His doe eyes widen. “No,” he whispers, genuinely afraid-sounding.

You smile apologetically and pat his hand.

He pulls away from you to press the palms of his hands into his eyes, fake-crying into them like the drama-queen he is. “Fuck,” he whines.

You push up from the kitchen table and walk around to massage his shoulders, as if he’s a football player getting hyped up before his next big game. “It’s okay,” you soothe.

“I need glasses?” He sounds so sad, you can’t help but laugh a little.

“It’s not the end of the world!” you laugh. “Besides, I think it’ll suit you.“

“But what about soccer? I can’t play with glasses, they’ll get broken, or, or—“

“Contacts are a thing, remember?”

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Now, a couple of days later, you knock on the packhouse doors with an eager smile, greeting Jimin with a long hug. “Is Jungkook home yet?”

“Yeah, he’s upstairs.”

“Thanks!”

The way to Jungkook’s room is a familiar one. As soon as you enter the pack house you turn right and head a single flight of stairs to the second floor where all the rooms and main bathrooms are. What is new, is all the various pictures hanging on the wall.

You take a moment to admire the new frames you assume either Seokjin or Rosé hung up between today and the last time you were here (around three days ago, now), smiling fondly at the closeness and joy in each picture.

It’s a large 24x48 canvas framed in a beautiful burgundy wood with golden highlights (which seem to have been painted on by hand), and it makes your heart stop.

It’s of a photo you took with the pack a few days after your birthday.

Your heart aches sweetly at the sight of Yoongi with his arms wrapped brotherly around your shoulders, free arm hoisting his whiskey into the air, a large grin on his face. Next to him is Jungkook, both hands in the air, yelling at the top of his lungs with one of those bottled glasses of coke. And around you, the rest of the pack.

Rosé and Jennie crouched beneath you, forming hearts with their arms on either side of your legs; Jisoo, Hoseok, Jin and Taehyung laughing at their brothers off to the side; Lisa yelling at the top of her lungs while being carried bridal style by Namjoon; Jimin on the floor at Rosé and Jennie’s feet, slightly blurred around the edges from setting up the camera.

It was the best night of your life.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” You look at Jungkook with a smile on your face, which quickly turns into an appreciative grin. “Why, look at you!”

Jungkook laughs shyly, reaching up to self-consciously push his glasses further up his nose. It’s a simple frame: black metal, kind of large but not overly so, a little boxy.

“It looks good!” you say as you finally make your way up the stairs, giving him a quick side hug before making your way to his room.

“You think so?” He holds the door open for you and then lets it slide halfway closed, joining you on the edge of his bed where you’ve already taken up one of his controllers.

“Definitely. Really frames your face.”

He groans. “Not you, too. Jin hyung’s been making glasses jokes all day.”

You laugh, nudging him in his side while starting up It Takes Two (a game you’d asked him to get so you could play together). “I would too, Four Eyes.”

He growls, not even giving you time to think before his hands are at your sides.

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Downstairs, Jimin shakes his head at your loud pleas for mercy and defeating scream-laughter with a fond smile, handing Jin another plate to dry off. “I wish those two would get together already.”

“Patience,” Seokjin chides with an equally fond grin. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

[shae-pine]

I Explain the Context for the songs in The Outsiders Musical

Spoilers for the Musical under cut! I was lucky enough to see the show in person so now that the album is out I decided to provide context for the songs so people listening to the album can know where in the story each one takes place/what is happening on stage during. Also some fun tidbits sprinkled in because this show is really so amazing I can not praise it enough.

Tulsa '67:

 The self-explained exposition song. We get the intro being the first line of the book and then we get the song as out introductions to the characters. One thing that is interesting is that there's a projector screen on stage and for this song Pony sits in front of the screen and speaks to the audience while the other characters are behind the screen. Acting out little scenes to show their personality while Ponyboy narrates and at the end of the song the screen lifts up to show a clear view of the stage. It's also right before Ponyboy gets jumped.

Grease Got a Hold:

Right after Ponyboy gets jumped. Like the song says in this version of the story a greaser isn't just something you are born into it's something you "earn" by being beaten down on by the socs. It shows the differences in each character most notably Darry and Dally because Darry hates the idea of Pony being stuck as a greaser, presumably because he wants more for his little brother, while Dally sees being a Greaser as something to be proud of. Presumably the first time Ponyboy gets to grease his hair (this song was also performed on the Today show and I highly recommend looking up the performance it's so good, it should be available on the today show website along with the other songs performed that day)

Runs in the Family:

Darry gets a song! After the previous song we cut to Darry in the Curtis home reflecting on where he was going in life versus where he ended up. In the musical the fact that Darry would be a soc without the gang is played up a lot more. The emphasize Darry's friendship with Paul and their history seems to go a lot deeper than just football buddies. Paul mentions gifting Darry a madras shirt and Darry being over at his house. The rest of the gang piles in at the end of the song.

Great Expectations:

The titular 'I want' song in any musical. The night after getting jumped Ponyboy tells Soda about reading great expectations and after Soda bids him goodnight he starts singing. When he mentions Darry and Johnny the actors come on stage. And at the end of the song the chorus of overlapping voices is the whole gang on the outskirts of the stage looking down/at Pony while Ponyboy sings out to the audience. (This song was also performed on the Today show)

Friday at the Drive-In:

The Soc introduction song. I think an important thing to note is that while the greasers dancing is far more rough and tumble. Jumping around and over each other, spinning and getting out nervous energy. The socs are far more reserved in their movements. They are still dancing around with spins and flips but this scene features a lot of partner dancing that's more self contained than the greasers who jump all around the stage.

I Could Talk To You All Night:

After Johnny tells Dally off/Dally leaves. Ponyboy and Cherry go to the concessions stand together. While in line Ponyboy tells her about Johnny getting jumped to which Cherry tries to defend Bob as Ponyboy already knows it was her boyfriend who beat Johnny up. Her defending him is half hearted though when Pony insists Johnny didn't do anything, he mentions reading Great Expectations to her and she tells him how Pip gets a happy ending before they start this song. It carries the story forward up until the end of the movie/the scene where they try to walk the girls home only for Bob and the socs to stop him. Also, in the musical Cherry does not go with Bob and instead breaks up with him right then and there because she's tired of all the fighting.

Runs in the Family(Reprise):

Ponyboy and Johnny make it to the Curtis house and instead of falling asleep at the lot it's stated that Ponyboy just spent so long talking to Cherry that that was why he was late for curfew. He acts nonchalant about it and Darry bursts into the reprise. There's also a scene here where Darry goes to advance on Johnny only for Soda to step between him(I think this was meant to be a moment where Darry is just lashing out because he's under a lot of stress as a guardian and Johnny is there but it hurts my heart a little to think Johnny was scared in that moment as he backs up and ducks away before Soda steps in front of him) And after the slap Ponyboy freezes until Johnny runs over and tells him they gotta get out of there.

Far Away From Tulsa:

After getting hit is when the two wind up at the park. Their conversation in the book about a life outside of Tulsa is now taking place after Darry has hit Ponyboy which makes his desire to find a place without worries all the more real. Johnny and Pony have this beautiful moment on stage together where they look out to the audience together and imagine a life where they can do and be whoever they want. Which makes it hurt all the more that right after they sing all their desires for a better life is when Bob and the rest of the socs show up.

Run Run Brother:

The two make it to Buck's after the stabbing of Bob where they ask for Dally. It's worth mentioning that Dally straight up mentions his willingness to die for Pony and Johnny, and that he thinks of the two of them as brothers, though I can not remember if this happens here or after 'Grease Got A Hold'. After the first bit of the song the  scene shifts from Buck's to Pony and Johnny running to the train/hiding from the workers as they make their way to Windrixville. There's also a line in the beginning when Pony says 'when I came to there was Johnny with his knife' this is important and I'll explain in 'Little Brother.' I also really like the detail of before, during 'Grease Got a Hold', 'you're a greaser now and you ain't going back' was said as a proud statement and now when the chorus sings it it sounds sad and almost like a death sentence. 

Justice for Tulsa:

We cut back to Tulsa after the boys escape. The cops line up the socs on the stage as they call for justice now that one of their own has been murdered. When Cherry speaks she is doing it at the vigil the soc's are holding for Bob before Randy approaches her. He's organizing a hunting party against the greasers. It's worth mentioning that when Cherry speaks against him Marcia tries to go to her side only for the other soc girl in the show(Bev) to hold her back. Cherry leaves alone and once she's gone Marcia pick up a flashlight, which serves as the symbol for the socs hunting down the greasers with no mercy during this scene. Where in the book Dally mentions Two-Bit getting jumped during this song we see it happen. The socs jump him and Bev holds a lit cigarette to his cheek while the guys hold him down(in the live version of this song we hear Two-Bit's scream) It's worth mentioning that Randy does not get a redemption in this version, in fact, outside of Cherry the socs are pretty much painted at the bad guys with her as the one exception. Even though we get Randy's emotions with 'this can't be real, he can't be gone' rather than feeling sadness over his friend's death for too long Randy switches to anger. Cherry's role as such has been adapted to be a mix of her and Randy from the book in terms of story beats.

Death's At My Door:

The boy's are in the church, as far as I can recall this was after they cut their hair and I believe it was meant to be implied that a day or two has passed since Bob's death. Though if this is before or after Pony read the poem I no longer remember. The two boys are relying on each other in this scene as they reflect on how nothing is gonna be the same again what with their ability to go home taken away unless they want Johnny to be thrown in jail. Something I forgot to mention before is that Pony blames himself for his parents death. In the musical he say that on Darry's birthday he was supposed to pick up a special frosting for his brother's cake from a bakery his mother liked. But because he forgot his parents had to go out of their way to go and get it and thus were hit by the train because they had to go over the tracks. He tells Cherry before 'I Could Talk To You For Hours' that if he had just remembered his parents would still be alive. Which is why in this song he claims death follows him because he believes his parent's would still be alive if he had remembered to pick up the frosting, and that Bob would still be alive if he hadn't run out of the house/if Johnny didn't need to protect him. 

Throwing in the Towel:

We cut back to Darry and Soda after the boys have been missing for a few days. Darry finally breaks down to Soda all the pressure he's under and how he feels like his brother's would be better off without him. He admits how much he thinks this is all his fault for being too hard on Pony and causing him to storm off after hitting him. During this scene while Soda and Darry are singing Ponyboy can be seen at the back on the stage watching them, and during the last chorus of the song 'this it the darkest hour of the darkest night' his voice joins his brothers. (This song was also performed on the Today Show and you should go watch it)

Soda's Letter:

Back in the church now right after Dally gets there after greeting Pony and Johnny he hands over the letter for Pony to read. Ponyboy reads it at the front of the stage while Soda's actor sing behind him/looking at him. Pretty much unchanged in terms of what Soda's letter gives to the story/when it given/read. The final "Ponyboy this house ain't a home without you" is sung by Darry who makes his way onto stage when Soda mentions him in the letter and we see him behind Ponyboy all but begging his brother to come home in this song.

Hoods Turned Heroes:

This is the fire song. We see Pony, Dally and Johnny in the church, I saw Pony light the cigarette and toss it behind him. I saw the flames go up and a terrified Ponyboy going "it's my fault" and then we cut to Two-Bit, grabbing the paper and beginning this song. We see a somewhat split stage in terms of spacing, the greasers back in Tulsa on one side, passing the newspaper between them as they read it, and we see Pony and Johnny in the middle saving the kids from the church. The scene is actually so creatively done and I adore it, outside of the fire they have two actors hold up a blanket and use shadows to show Pony and Johnny pulling kids from the fire since there are no child actors in this production. Interlaced with the puppetry of the saving kids we see Johnny and Pony sliding out from under the blanket and jump around beams that are held up by other actors while the paper is being read. All ending with Dally going in after Johnny. The scene changes to Dally holding Johnny, who's been changed into a hospital gown, and Dally gently lays him on the hospital bed when the song ends.

Hopeless War:

Before the rumble Pony does not leave the hospital. He stays there watching Johnny until Cherry comes in. She looks at Johnny, asking after his health, before turning to Pony and begging him not to fight. But if you recall earlier, as far as the musical is concerned the fire was set by Ponyboy's cigarette(sidenote: I think it'd be cool if every night they rotated who lights the cigarette and throws it and just switch Pony's line from "it's my fault" to "it's our fault" but I only saw the show once so I assume it's the same every time for who lights the fire even though it the book and movie we don't know for sure)  So Pony can't listen to Cherry, even though in this scene she's taking the place of Pony's discussion with Randy in the book about the fight not making areal difference, because he sees this as his only chance to try and do something for Johnny since he can't do much else but watch over him in the hospital.

Trouble:

We cut to directly after Pony's discussion with Cherry. The greasers have their war cry of trouble brewing as everyone prepares for the rumble. While Ponyboy gets ready Darry comes up and begs him not to fight. If you recall during "Grease Got a Hold" Darry says how Pony "better know what you're fighting for" But he still doesn't want his brother to have to fight. But by this point Pony had his reason for fighting and he's the one to rally the gang with the call of "Do it for Johnny!" right before the socs roll up. Dally does say “do it for Johnny” at the beginning of the song but it’s Ponyboy who uses it as a war cry. Dally also has a moment where he calls out Darry for being on the greasers side when he was so against being a greaser before, but Darry looks at him and says confidently "once a greaser always a greaser". Paul has a moment with Darry where he calls him out for wanting to be a soc but Darry shuts him right down and the rumble is on.

Little Brother:

Right after the rumble the entire gang heads over to see Johnny, yes, the entire gang. Not just Pony and Dally everyone gathers around him and tells him about beating the socs. They watch as Johnny tells Pony to stay gold and they all break down when he passes, Dally runs out before anyone can stop him. He makes it to the top of the stage, and he begins his song. breaking down the boards around him in a show of anger and violence while the ensemble sings below him looking up. He says tearfully "I could not save you" remember during 'Run run brother' where I said the knife would be brought up later? It's because Dally was the one to give him the switchblade. Before the socs get their number Dally comes across Johnny staying in the lot while his parents are fighting. He tells Dally how he's been uncertain since he was jumped to be out alone. So Dally reaches into his jacket, pulls out the blade, and gives it to him(that one promo pic) and Dally tells him that "if you're gonna use it, use it" and I believe he says something along the lines of "because if you do there's no going back" Dally gave Johnny that knife to try and protect him, but all it did was sign his death warrant. It protected him from Bob but not from anything else, not from the fire. And when Dally said he would die for Pony and Johnny he meant it. He sings and is joined by the cast who echo him "little brother" but he stands alone at the top of the stage. He makes his way down to the bottom portion of the stage, stepping onto the train tracks(in my mind it's the same spot where the Curtis' parents crashed) planting his feet and squaring his shoulders before the song ends, and the train comes. According to Ponyboy his body derailed the train, and Pony likes to believe that despite that, some part of Dallas Winston managed to make it's way back to New York. (Playbill released Joshua Boone singing this song and it's so heartbreaking because there is no ensemble in that version so you have to sit with the harsh melody when Dally makes his choice to face the train head on)

Stay Gold:

After Dally's death we head back to the Curtis house. We don't get a time frame but going off the book it's been a week or two since they've both died. Cherry comes by with Johnny's things from the hospital, she mentions she volunteers there now, and gives Pony Johnny's letter for him. Pony refuses to read it but after Soda has his break down about "we're all we got left" he grabs Johnny's letter and starts to read it for Pony. Getting a line or two in before Pony asks for it, starts to read it himself, and the song begins. Johnny Cade joins us back on stage as he sings to Pony his hope for the world he has to leave behind. And of course, that request to stay gold.

Finale (Tulsa '67): 

After reading Johnny's letter Ponyboy begins to write his theme. He finishes a page or two before joining his brothers at the table, he tells them what he writing about and Soda tells him to read it. Pony says it's only a few pages but Darry speaks up, "Can I read it?" he asks. And Pony hands it over, it isn't Ponyboy reading that intro again, but Darry, determined to do better by his brother and reading his work. He and Soda pass the theme to each other, taking turns reading sections aloud while Pony sings. Sings about Tulsa and the gang, of Dally who saw being a greaser as a badge of honor, of Johnny who wanted more for himself and more for Ponyboy who vows that "in his memory I'll stay gold!" The entire cast comes onto the stage as they sing, no longer to each other but to the audience, "stay gold!" It is something that has stuck with me and will stick with me to know that those final lines were no longer characters talking to each other, but talking to the audience right as the show comes to an end.

Anyways this got way longer then I thought but if you want me to ramble more about the show literally just ask I can not stop thinking about it. Might make another post about the differences between the musical and the book.

[starsomens]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 8・𝓥.𝓐.𝓝

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Warnings: Use of guns, speak of threats, language, slight implied smut, but not really, blood mention, poorly written action I’m sorry

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

You sat in the cool leather seat. There were a few folders set in front of you. Nick and Jolly sat across from you while Ruffilo and we’re standing near the wall. They draw the shades and dim the room. A projector goes off behind you as the word V.A.N appears.

“Y/N, as you know we’re in mafia organization. We are well-known, but we are also hidden. Violence against nature and those who don’t remain that way.” Noah started

“As a mafia, we have our own branches that deal with money, arms, silencing, and punishment. Each division is in a different section of the city. We’re at the center of the city so we are the main branch, nearly all branches come and answer to us but we have a single higher up.” The slideshow swaps to the picture of a rough looking man. He had a single scar going from the corner of his left eyebrow down to the bottom his lip. His mean mug didn’t make the picture any more pleasant

“This is Lucian, the founder and head of V.A.N. Directly under him is Noah which is why he deals with so many things and has so much power over certain areas. Now in the case of you being targeted….”

Noah walks beside you and opens the three folders with pictures of people two faces of which you recognize and one you had not seen before. First Denise. You had even thought of her since the event you attended to with Noah.

“Denise Thompson. She is the daughter of Lucian and Heiress of this entire mafia. Whoever marries her gains control of the entire organization.” Noah explains “ I know you remember her going off on you and how she was supposed to be with me, but I declined the marriage.”

“Why? You’ve gained so much you would’ve been in charge of everything…” you asked

“ That was an option for me yes, realistically, I didn’t want to be married to Denis. On top of that, your father was in debt to me so I took advantage of my options,” he said closing her profile “Denise was raised to be an absolute spoiled brat. She gets everything her way when she wants it no matter what needs to be done. Knowing that you two had such a great introduction, she was the first suspect.”

“Hm…”

This was the most silent you had ever been. Even Noah, who was speaking to you, was taken aback by how little you had spoken in the past ten minutes. That morning, you had been quite talkative with him, yet now you seemed lost in thought as you sipped your coffee.

“Next,” opening the next file you see a very familiar face as well “Jared Conti. another nepo baby to add to the chain. Although he was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth he also inherited his fathers greed taking what he wants from who he wants no matter what it may be”

You thought back to the party were you first met him and how he just couldn’t take a no for an answer

“So you’re saying he’s targeting me because I said no?” You raised a brow at Noah

“Not entirely. We only recently found out Denise’s father arranged for the two to marry, since there’s that connection he’s a natural suspect since you had a bit of a run in with him” Nick chimed in “but we also suspect because of his past with Noah that it may be a way to get to him through you”

You pause for a moment to process the information you've just received. Knowing the potential suspects brings some relief, yet you can't shake the feeling that this might be a trivial matter or, conversely, something far more significant. Your gaze drifts to the table, where one last unopened folder catches your eye.

"who's this one?" you said flipping it open to find written statements but no name, picture or anything

"that's the fun part," Noah said sarcastically "third party, and we have no idea who it can be......but we are suspecting some inner work being done."

"you mean-"

"Someone who's working in the system against us, yes" Jolly chimed in "we have tried fingerprinting, but it looks like they've been using gloves, no hair was left behind, no blood...."

"So in the meantime we may relocate to my other property for your protection" Noah says as he walks towards you and sits one of his legs on the table "do you have questions?"

You take a deep breath "how....on a scale how at risk is my life?" he could see it was starting to get to you a bit

"Y/N, you're safe as long as-"

"Noah.....just tell me...."

"....a 9." he said bluntly. He noticed how it was all registering in your head now. Looking at the guys he gives them a knowing look. They silently take their leave and just you and Noah were left in the room, he comes down to kneel in front of you and softly speak "listen....you're my wife, and that means nothing to going to touch a hair on your head. Understand?"

You nod your head "where are we going to go?" you asked him

"I have a home in upstate New York, it'll be just for the time until we get this matter settled...now come on, the guys brought breakfast," he said standing and offering his hand for you to take. You walk towards the door hand in hand already hearing the commotion coming from the kitchen. Followed by Velma Tell them they were going to ruin he nice silverware that way. You couldn't help but chuckle coming into the kitchen watching Folio drown his waffles in syrup

"Hey there they are, we got you, your favorite!" Jolly said holding up a tray with a breakfast sandwich you really liked from the place Noah buys from "we made sure it's the way you liked, if not Noah would have kicked my ass,"

"Oh really?" you smile taking the food seeing some pink appear on Noah's ears

"Mhm, he always checks your food to make sure it's perfect," Nick said taking a mouthful of waffles

"Well, that's nice to know" you giggle loving to hear how attentive he was about you even when you weren't around. You sit down and take a bite from your sandwich; the savory and warm food honestly made you forget the entire ordeal for just a moment. That was until a smell had caught your attention in the wrong way. Looking around you see Noah eating an omelet with some veggies in it and cheese. You never thought the smell of eggs would throw you off like that. Shaking your head lightly you go back to your sandwich and ignore the smell. After some time eating and joking and of course them teasing Noah with how smitten he was by you, they still had jobs to do.

As they were saying their goodbyes, you were helping Velma to clean up the kitchen. Nothing too crazy most of the containers were disposable. The front door closes and no walks back into the kitchen

“Y/N, come on I wanna show you something “

“Oh boy I wonder what it is,” you chuckle as you walk to him and he rests his hand on your lower back. He leads you down the hallway to the backyard, but instead of heading to the gardens as usual, you turn right into a large shed just off the path. You've often seen Noah and the guys enter here on late nights. He opens the door and leads you into what appears to be a private gun range. This must be their spot for practice or stress relief. It also clarifies why you sometimes hear gunshots. You thought you were imagining things, but you weren't!

“Sooo…. You’re showing me the second part of the tour of our property. Now I know those gunshots I heard were real and I wasn’t going insane.” You joke as you walk up and down the aisle where you would stand and shoot.

“Well, yes but,” grabs a gun off of the table and releases the magazine, leaving it empty, “this time, you’ll take a shot”

“Pun intended?” You smile as he dangles the gun in front of you. You take a hold of it and look it over. It was much heavier than you were expecting. Of course your mother would never allow your father or any of her kids to be around. It was a strict rule that she had so this was your first time actually holding one.

“How’s it feel?” he asked with his hands in his pocket as he stands just a bit closer to you.

“Mmm, heavy and foreign,”

“Well, like I said you’re gonna take some shots today. Because if I’m ever not around, I want you to be able to defend yourself even though I always want to be there to protect you,”

Which he always will be! But he needs to think if worse comes to worse he needs to weigh of you being protected enough until he gets to you.

“ of course I’ll always be there, but this is just a precaution, now come on,” he places his hands on your hips and lines you with one of the isles. He put some protective earmuffs on you and loads of the gun. He shows you how to hold it and how to align your shot.

“Alright good, I’m gonna let go and when you feel ready, you pull the trigger okay,” he said softly completely contrasting your action. You are feeling much more nervous than you would have thought. “Just breaths dns hoot baby,”

You pull the trigger and and you’re jolted back just a bit. You squint at the target and see that you had aimed a bit higher, and punctured a hole just above the shoulder. Noah says,

“ Better than I thought for your first time,” He then puts his hand over yours to show you how to put a new bullet into the chamber “ give another go,” he stands back and gives you some room this time. He felt a bit more confident with your stance in your hold of the gun. You do as he says take your time, you take a deep breath….. and pull the trigger once again.

This time you got a hit into the neck! You give a small bounce in victory, feeling Noah comes closer behind you as his hands trace up the sides of your body and his neck cranes down to your ear as his lips gazes your ear

"Good, you're getting it," he said in a low voice, his back slightly against yours and his hands come up to caress your arms and hold the gun with you "just a bit higher and you'll get it,"

His fingers rests over your own on the trigger as you both pull the trigger, finally hitting the target in the head dead center. You lower the gun feeling a sense of power and self confidence. You were by no means a marksmen, but you could defiantly grab one if needed. He kisses the bottom of your ear

"Did so good baby, better than I thought," he chuckles

"Oh and you can do better?" you smile as you turn your face to him, the gun forgotten on the small table in front if you as his hands come to your hips and wrap around your waist

"Oh I know I can," he whispers against your lips "Maybe I should just show you, hm?" his lips open to capture your lips with his. One of his hands coming to cup your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You head felt light as you melted into the sweet moment.

He pulls back and whispers "fuck.." he dives back in backing you up against the table and hoisting you on to the table. He pulls you closer to the edge so that he was slotted between your legs. He moves your head up so that his eyes were staring right back into yours. But before anything could escalate his phone ring and he groaned in frustration.

As he side, he let his head rest onto your shoulder. You giggle slightly at his frustration of being cock blocked by his own business. He reached for his phone in his pocket and pulled up the screen to his face to see who was calling. Nicholas’s name showed up on the screen and he said deeply

“Looks like it might be a lead. I have to take this. But we will revisit your aim, flower “ he helps you to get off of the table and walks back out with you from the small gun range. After locking up the area, he takes you back inside as the sky begins to darken. It look like it was going to be quite a storm he sat on the couch watch him throw on his trenchcoat, and slip a gun into the waistband of his pants

“Do you have to go?” Well leaning your head on your hand. He as he walks over and kisses your forehead.

“I unfortunately have to. It’s for your own good. I have to go so I can see what kind of lead they have going on.” Looking at his phone he saw that his ride was outside “ I’ll be in contact okay? you call me if anything happens. Anything.” he made sure to raise his eyebrows on the word anything emphasizing his seriousness when he said absolutely anything. You could hear a mouse squeak in the house and he would want to know about it.

“I know….be safe.” You as you snuggle into the couch, the fire still roaring proudly in the fireplace as your finger saves the spot in your book that you were currently on.

“No promises,” he smirks at you as he closes the door, locking it behind him. He put his hands into his pockets as he leans over to one of the guards at the door.

“ She does not leave the house and no one gets in, understood?” There was a major difference when Noah was speaking to you and speaking to men who worked for him and that’s how cold he was and how threatening he was. “ Any movement, noise, any person near here is reported to me immediately.”

“Yes sir.” he he goes down a few steps before he stops and looks over his shoulder and says “anyone that comes on the property, you. No hesitation.”

After getting into the car, Noah drives off to the next location. Honestly, he considered ignoring the call to stay home, but he realized that doing so would hinder his progress on the case and only extend the risk. He preferred to eliminate the risk entirely.

“Koda,” you call for your adorable companion. Even though you knew he was supposed to be your protection and a threat to others couldn’t help but think about how cute he was. His he comes into the room with his tail, wagging behind them, the sofa near your feet to jump onto “come on boy,”

He hops on up and makes himself at home at your feet. Keep having Koda around honestly helped with how much was going on. Of course, well-being a furry companion with the most adorable eyes in years. He also guarded you and alerted you of anything.

As your gaze flitted over the pages of your book, your vision began to blur. Your fingers relaxed, losing their grip on the page. The warmth of the fire, the rhythmic patter of rain against the windows, and Koda's endearing snores gradually lulled you into slumber. You yielded to the comfort of the couch for a peaceful nap.

As the hours passed, you took a restful nap while the fire slowly died out. Awakening to the mansion's chill, your feet remained warm, nestled under your furry companion. Stretching your limbs, you enjoyed a satisfying stretch. Sitting up, you began to gently pet Koda's head.

He let out a toothy yawn as he scratch a nice part on his head.

“Good spot huh boy?” You smile. Looking around you must’ve not turned on any of the life since it looked pretty dark aside from the log in the fireplace that still burned orange was dying out. Stand up on the lamp of the couch.

It clicked a couple of times, but no light came on….weird. Maybe this must’ve burned out. So you walk into the hallway and flip the switch up for the elegant to be illuminated.

Nothing.

“Did the storm knock the power out?” You ask out loud padding the side of your leg you call Koda “here boy, watch.”

You gave him a command in which he walks along side you to watch for any potential threats. He quickly comes to your side and keeps his body close to yours as he scans the area with you. Pull out your phone and try to call it wrong and wrong, but it went right to his voicemail. He decides to send him a message and let him build up. The power has gone out and try again in about two minutes.

Your heart was pounding, yet the reason was unclear. The silence was deafening. Every door was securely locked, with Noah's men stationed outside. Perhaps it was an overreaction, or maybe it was just nerves.

“Vilma?” for the elderly woman “Vilma are you here?” no answer. But she was here when you went to sleep, how could she just vanish? "Vilma please, answer me!"

The rain began to pour down even more intensely upon the house, accompanied by the growling thunder in the distance. Frustrated, you pull out your phone and attempt to call Noah once more. Pacing through the house, you search for any functioning light switches. The kitchen's switch is unresponsive, the stairwell's remains inactive, and your call drops. You groan and punch in his contact again.

*ring....ring...*

"Y/N?"

You let out a heavy sigh "Oh thank god! Noah, the powers out and Vilma isn't here, nothing is turning on and-"

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you there hello?"

"Noah! Noah hello?!" you were starting to panic a bit

"Y/N I'm going to call security..." he hangs up

"No! NO!" you were so frustrated and stressed you could cry. Of course things can only go from bad to worst in these situations...Koda was on edge. You could see him whip his body around his vision focused on something in the far end of the hall. His low growl was not a good sign. You turn on your flashlight and slowly bring it up the long carpeted hall. A pair of shoes....trousers....it was...Alfred?

"Oh god Alfred....you scared me," you said resting your hand on your chest "do you know if there's a breaker where we can get the power back up?"

He remained silent.

"Alfred?..." he starts to walk to you "Alfred this isn't funny....." Koda starts barking as he inched closer and closer, taking his time, face vacant of emotion.

You reach down for you phone once again to call for help "it will be useless to try and call him Y/N...."

"but the guards must-"

"be gone? A simple hack really...they've left their posts. Noah can't reach a signal from you. Just surrender, come with me and things won't have to get ugly."

You couldn't believe it....Alfred. You stop in your tracks, standing your ground and thinking of what to do next

"So it was you huh?...the letter? the threats?" you ask as he got closer and closer

"no, no of course not. I was simply the messenger delivering the letter and giving information.....I have my own pawns to play with"

He was just a few steps from you and just before he could take another step you give Koda his Release word

"ON!” Koda jumps into actions and locks down on to Alfred's leg as you hit him over the head with a vase, shattering the pottery. Buying you some time to run. “KODA OFF!” You yell his release word

Indeed, you wanted him to buy you some time, and he didn't want to involve him in the process. Even though he was trained for this, you cherished him like a pet. You head to the backyard and dash toward the shed, only to twist the knob and discover it's locked.

“Come on! Fuck! Why?!” You keep jiggling the lock as if it would magically open. The rain soaking your clothes and hair blocking your view. Your turn left to keep running through the garden as lightning strikes in the distance. You look back to see if he was still following you. The other way, nothing, the other still nothing.

Something finally covers your mouth as you try and fight him off, Alfred holds a clothe to your mouth and nose as you lose consciousness. Slowly slipping away. Gazing into the eyes of who you thought you could trust. The person Noah let into his home, his life, your marriage. God only knows if he did something to Vilma as well.

"that's it...that's it..." your finally tranquil on the ground feeling even your hearing starting to muffle "just wait until Lucien hears about this..." your vision fades into black.....your phone rings forgotten on the hallway floor.

Noah's name on your screen for the 5th time in a row, but no answer from you. Noah stares down at his screen feeling his heart drop down into his stomach.

"I'm leaving," he mumbles letting his chair spin as he gets up from the seat abruptly "Something isn't right,"

"Wait Noah! What about him?" Looking over into the chair where one of Jared's goons sat. His face bloody and bruised, his nose crooked and most likely broken. They were trying to get any information possible and of course resort to violence once the goon had referred to you as "Noah's whore"

"Water board him, sab him, hang him upside down I don't care I need to go and get Y/N," he grabs the keys to the car and run out into the rain. The guys looking back at the goon and then each other. Folio holds up a set of keys with a smile

"Wanna go into his secret drawer?" as he wiggled them

"Yes!" jolly exclaimed "No." Nick folded his arms

"Niiccckkk" they both whined at the long haired man, wanting him to "be fun for once"

As for Noah, he was currently breaking any traffic laws as he cut through traffic. His phone ringing and ringing. The cameras weren't on, Vilma wasn't answering and none of his guards were either. The longer he waited for a response the harder his foot pressed down on the gas. He ran 7 red lights, crossed 6 lanes and cut off a couple of trucks on his ways over. He pulls into the driveway with no men to be seen

"what the...Y/N?" he runs up to the house and twists the knobs open. No forced entry, but you wouldn't just let someone in. He steps inside to see none of the lights working "Y/N?" he called again

As he walks down the hall he sees the broken vase and what looks to be...blood? Wait where was Koda?

"Koda! Koda?" he hears scratching and barking from the closet at the end of the hall in the closet. Opening it up the young dog comes out sniffing around Noah looking around frantically.

“Y/N?!” He called again as he walks he steps on something as it cracked under his foot, it was your phone. He bends down to pick it up and waves in front of Koda

“Koda, smell,” Koda comes over to his and takes a few sniffs of the phone “good. Now, track”

Koda sniffs the ground around Noah for some trace of a scent.

“Come on…come on….”

Koda whimpers as he sits. His signs of finding no trace of your scent.

“FUCK!” he walked towards the front door again. Pushing the doors open and stepping out into the rain. He looks up into the sky and starts to question the gods of his misfortune.

He clenched his fists and screams

“Y/N!!”

̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿   ‿ ̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

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[ellssbellss]

Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

here is part two!

see masterlist! masterlist

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A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy!

The collar of your white button down carved into the skin of your neck, only cutting deeper each time you swallowed. The (s/c) of your suit set seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it blared at you from your peripheral, a warning of possible danger ahead. 

Room A326 was a bland one, only consisting of a podium, a projector, and your teacher perched neatly on a chair in the back. In the middle of the room, a long table sits three of your high school's most influential people, one of them being Chairman Suoh. The man’s blonde lashes flickered over you and Kyoya as each of you ran through your practiced dialogue, the presentation not suffering at all from your time apart. 

It was almost eerie, in fact, how easily the both of you fell into the groove of working together again, as if it was second nature. 

But the thing that made your nerves stand on end wasn’t the investors watching your every single move. It wasn’t the fact that you and Kyoya had barely gotten together maybe an hour or so before one of the biggest presentations of your life. And it wasn’t that that hadn’t gone very well. 

It was the fact that if you were shaken by just how natural this whole thing felt, working so fluidly together without so much as a word to each other in days, Kyoya was knocked off his feet. 

People who hadn’t known him for years wouldn’t have caught the tick in his jaw, or the long looks behind his frames when it was your turn to present a slide. He gripped his index cards a little too tightly, and his tie rose too high up on his neck, the material crinkling the fabric of his shirt. 

It appeared that you weren’t the only one about to burst at the seams because of how unfair it was. That the both of you had finally found someone that understood you both inside and out, made you feel comfortable in your own skin, supported you, brought you back to earth, and shared your ambitions and secrets. All for one petty, rotten, evil argument to bring it down like a gust of wind on a tower of cards. 

As you fixed the lapel on your blazer, you caught eyes with him again while he spoke. His gray irises quickly flitted to look somewhere else as he swallowed thickly, and you huffed through your nose. 

Rolling your eyes internally, you turn back to the projector, smiling for the investors while a million thoughts ran through your head. 

Why was he acting like this? He was the one that broke your heart, and he was too stubborn to apologize for it. He had only spoken to you when absolutely necessary, and ignored you after one of the most traumatic events of your life. You knew that that day on the cliff had been a shock to everyone, but everyone else had gotten over themselves.

You knew he had an ego bigger than Mount Fuji, but you had hoped you meant more to him than his reputation. 

Such a stupid thing, hope. 

“And that’s why this product should be dispersed globally.” You hear yourself saying, walking in a synchronized motion to the front of the podium alongside Kyoya. “It could change the lives of millions globally, and redefine what we label technology today.”

“Thank you for your time.” Kyoya’s voice resonates in the beige room, and as you both bow deeply, your presentation ends with a period written in black ink. 

Applause scatters throughout the room, but you swallow. The presentation was easy, planned. The hard part is what follows, answering questions. 

“Nicely done.” One of the investors says, a woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. “Your charts were extremely easy to digest, and very well organized.”

“Agreed.” The investor to Chairman Suoh’s left nods, fixing the glasses on top of his nose. “And your idea to use rising social media as a way to advertise your product is smart. Effective.” His voice is grumbling, barely audible behind his dangling jowls. 

You hitch your breath as Suoh hums, fixing his hands into a pyramid on the table, like a god about to give judgment. “The two of you have created something that could truly sell itself, and maybe become a staple in a household’s everyday life. It really could change the market for products like this.”

Kyoya’s lips stretch into his business smile. No dimples, no teeth, just kind, practiced eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, that means a great deal coming from –”

“...in theory.”

The smile drops. 

“Sir?” You ask, trying to drag your heart out of your stomach. 

Both of you turn to look at the Chairman as he reaches for his reading glasses, perching them on his face before glancing back down to his notes. “Isn’t that what this all is? Theory?”

“Absolutely not, Sensei.” Kyoya says, briskly walking back to his computer and bringing up the slides of the detailed plan he made to put this idea into production. “As stated previously, it would all start with the investments from–”

“Oh, please.” The Chairman dismisses Kyoya with a wave of his hand, almost laughing. “I admire the to-do list you have here, son, but it takes more than a checklist to get things off the ground. It takes research. It takes money.”

“The research is in production as we speak, sir.” You say, joining Kyoya at the computer to access your resources that you cited at the end of your slides. “While it is in the newer stages, the results have been consistent, even leading to brand new–”

“How many patented technologies have been made with this research?”

You swallow, the blue light from your screen being projected into your irises as you look up your friend’s father. “None, sir. This would be the first.”

“So it’s a risk.”

“It is.” Kyoya confirmed next to you, his lengthy form crossing to the side of the podium. “But what is reward without the risk?”

“A guaranteed one, Ootori.” Suoh clips, and he rests his reading glasses on the table.

“It might take some trials, Chairman Suoh, but you said it yourself.” You say, taking center stage. This could help millions, possibly even billions of people across the globe.”

“And how expensive is one of those trials?” He asks, his ego spilling from his chair. 

You swallow, and Kyoya meets your gaze before answering in a cold tone. “Seventy-five billion yen, Sensei. As stated.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” The billionaire chuckles, along with the two other investors as they shake their heads, as if that amount of money could even put a dent in their personal checking accounts, let alone their savings. 

Then, his face falls gently, and Suoh’s violet eyes pierce into yours, but they don’t hold the same warmth that Tamaki’s do. Just the judgment. Just the cold. 

“(L/n)-san. Would you spend seventy-five billion yen on a risk?”

The collar of your shirt suddenly isn’t a smooth blade. It’s a jagged knife, tearing your skin and cutting through your windpipe as you force yourself to think. How could you be so smart and not be able to defend this project that you had poured your blood sweat and tears into?

Can you even recover from this? From the doubt that is clearly in the scowls of the investors in front of you, the disappointed frown from your teacher in the back. How could you show your face to Tamaki again, after his father had humiliated you so thoroughly? And Kyoya, god knows Kyoya is raging inside his ice-cold demeanor. 

If there was ever a chance that your relationship would go back to the way it was, it was drowning in whatever vengeful emotion the Shadow King was feeling. You’re sure you’d make it back to the club room tonight and see your uniform folded neatly on a table, a note written in perfect cursive telling you, curtly, to get the hell out of his sight. 

“Respectfully, Sensei. If I may.”  Kyoya’s voice rings amongst your spiraling, and you’re pulled back into reality as he places a hand on your shoulder. You even feel him give you a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out the breath you have been holding. 

“We can agree that seventy-five billion yen does sound like a large sum. And, yes, it is risky to bet on a product that is based on theory and predictions, therefore leaving the end result undetermined.”

Kyoya paused, and you watched as Suoh’s smirk just grew larger, nearly showing his canines in the process. “But hasn’t that been the start of all revolutionary businesses around the world? We all know that Apple Inc. started in a garage, but did you know the same was true for Amazon? Google?”

Kyoya’s back was turned to you as he began to speak to these investors like equals, his potential lighting up the room like an upcoming star. 

“The same can be said for Blockbuster.” The woman said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Or MySpace. Blackberry.”

“All startups that ultimately failed in the long run.” The man added on, a permanent frown on his face as he analyzed the straight-A student in front of him. 

“Because they couldn’t adapt.” Kyoya emphasized. “Our product is not only revolutionary, it’s evolutionary, and will change with the ages.” 

“It may be a large investment, but it’s a worthy one.” You speak up, feeling supported under the confidence of the Ootori son’s words. 

“I believe in this product. I believe in us as spearheads for this technology. This project will not fail with the two of us overseeing the development.” You say, gesturing between yourself and the suited host next to you. 

“You two do work well together…” Suoh surmised, his cocky grin twisted into a slight frown. 

You swallow the emotion you feel, playing the angle that you know will get the best response. “In the years I have come to know Kyoya, he has never once gave up on something he believes in. He is always going after what he wants with the finesse and ambition that anyone would want to have on their team.” 

Kyoya brings his fist up to his throat, clearing it before fixing his lenses. “And I could say the same for (Y/n). Her creative intelligence and determination in her work is unmatched, making her not only an asset to this product, but also to Ouran as a whole.” 

You look at him then, catching the way the veins in his jaw pulsed under the stress. His posture was straight, hands clasped in front of him maybe a little too tightly as he finished his praise. 

He’s practically shaking, breaking his own pride to admit that he needs you. Believes in you, just as he always had. And that breaks something in you as well. 

“Fine then, you two can talk to the investor panel at the end of this year.” Suoh grunts, earning the slow nods of the other two judges. 

You whip your head around and smile brightly, taking a deep breath to thank him before he holds up a finger. 

“However, there will be conditions. Find solid research that dilutes the risk of getting it produced.” He stands, the rest of them following suit as they begin to pack their things. 

“Yes sir.” You say, vowing to do whatever you can to get your idea off the ground. 

“And find a way to lessen the price. No matter how much you believe in something, it doesn’t change the price tag.” 

“Of course.” Kyoya acquiesces. 

Sighing with his briefcase in hand, Suoh is the last one out the door, on his way back to his office for the rest of the school day. He looks back at the two of you with his mouth in a straight line, but you can see a little bit of pride in his violet eyes. 

“Congratulations, you two. We will be in touch.” 

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving both you and Kyoya with bewildered stares as his disappearing form. 

“So…” You start, creasing your brows. “That went well. Right?”

The megane’s eyes shot to yours, before shaking his head once. “Not even close.”

“I mean, maybe it started out rocky, but we got the deal!” 

“Barely.” Kyoya cuts your excitement in half. “We barely were able to pass through to the investor panel because our project was flawed.”

“It couldn’t have been perfect the first try.”

“It would’ve been better if you had answered the question decently, instead of standing there frozen.”

You stand there, shocked. “If I had answered honestly, the panel would’ve been discouraged against production. I was trying to find a way to-”

“Saying anything at all would’ve been better than letting the Chairman’s question hang in the air.” 

Scoffing, you turn your back to him, shoving your laptop back into its case. “Well, everything turned out okay. You saved it with the connections to some of the biggest companies in the world, you should be proud.” Distaste leaked from your tone.

You hear the click of his briefcase echo as he packs his things, the lifeless room surrounding you. “I can’t save you everytime.”

Your hands pause, hovering over the zipper of your purse. The room is silent then, only the ruffling of clothes and the pounding of your heart making any noise. Your mouth is dry as you close your eyes, willing the rage and sadness that you feel to go away, just go away as a dark voice plays in your mind. 

Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me. 

A briefcase clicks shut right as your zipper closes your purse, and you curse whoever made you and Kyoya forever in sync. 

“Is that what this is about?” The tension strains your vocal chords as you ask, but you don’t turn to face him.

He isn’t looking at you either when he swallows. “It’s complicated.”

Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him. 

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

Your shoes clack as you fly out the door. 

Kyoya heaved off his glasses slowly, rubbing his eyes and the indentions that his frames had made on his nose. 

“Christ, Ootori.” He mumbled to himself, running his hand down his face. 

Why couldn’t he let you go?

Multiple people had made him angry to the point that he had cut off all contact with him, but it had never left him feeling so empty, so desperate for what was lost. 

The director justified that it was because you were everywhere. He couldn’t get over your relationship because he saw you everytime he stepped into school, into the club he built. You were in his classes, his extracurriculars, your contact was pinned to the top of his messaging app (purely for easier access, of course). Your name was even signed on the same documents he had to fill out for his father because of the damned partnership between your two families. 

He just couldn’t get rid of you. Physically or mentally. 

Not only were you an active presence on campus grounds, but in the late hours of the night he saw your face smiling down at him in the sunlight, your laugh rang in his ears when he made a sarcastic comment. 

He saw you disappear over a cliff’s edge. 

His heart spiked and he threw on his glasses once more, sharply exiting the presentation room. He willed himself not to dwell on how things used to be, just what they were now. You had been reckless, so reckless that you could’ve been seriously injured. The pain he would’ve felt if somehow you hadn’t come back from that, or if your injuries were greater…it scared him.

All that feeling, the attachment, the wanting. It terrified him. 

“No, Mom, I just–I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your voice trailed along the empty hallways of the business building. School was still in session, but it was between periods. Everyone was in their classes. 

Kyoya froze and expected you to be around the corner, fully prepared to turn the other way. But when you weren’t there, he listened again.

“I don’t think I want to stay here.” Dark eyebrows furrowed as he followed the echo to the women’s bathroom. Hearing you stutter and interrupt your mother made him lean against the wall outside the door. 

“No, I know Ouran's the best, I know. And I really like it here. It’s just…” He heard you take in a breath while he held his own. “It’s getting too difficult. Were you able to send over the blank transfer application? To Lobelia?”

Kyoya’s head dropped against the wall as he suppressed a groan. Immediately, his body pushed off the wall, and soon he was walking quickly down the hallway. The afternoon sun traced his body through the exposed windows as he took tight turns, his long legs putting in their work as he jogged up the carpeted steps. 

His head and his heart were at war as they both pounded on his way to Music Room #3. Just let her go, his mind yelled, then you can be free from whatever feeling she is holding over you.

But what would your life be, his heart cried, without her?

Kyoya busted through the pink doors, alight and tie slightly askew.

He clears his throat as he adjusts the tie, storming up to a surprised Tamaki. 

“Kyo, hey. Is your presentation over? How did it g-”

“Will it work?”

“Will what work?” The blonde stands at his full height. 

“Your plan to keep Haruhi and (Y/n) here at Ouran. Will it work?”

“Of course it will.” Tamaki gets a knightly gleam in his eye, pounding his fist into his palm. “We just need to do a few more things.”

“Leave it to me.” Kyoya states, his lenses flashing. “How can I be of service?”

The crowd around you cheers as you hug your middle. The Zuka Club performs gloriously on the stage in front of you, your front seat perspective making them seem larger than they actually are. And, you have to admit, their pompous, look-at-me attitudes are really helping their cause here. They are great actors. 

Benio, Chizuru, and Hinako all move fluidly to their final positions, getting ready to set off the performance's grand finale. 

“Lo~”

“Bel~”

“Li~”

“A~!” 

The cheers get even louder, and you wince at the noise. Sighing, you look around at the crazed fans with hearts for eyes, wondering if this will really be the kind of people you will go to school with. 

Not like they are any different from the fan girls at Ouran.

As the Zuka Club descends from the stage, a fan bumps into you as they try to get closer to the stage, knocking the enclosed letter out of your hand. You scurry to pick it up, praying that nobody steps on it as the crowd disperses. Your fingers are just about to wrap around the cream-colored paper before a lithe, manicured palm picks it up. 

“What’s this?” Benibara’s smooth voice rings in your ears as you watch her read the front. 

“Hey, wait, that’s not for you-” You scramble, but the squeal of Hinako’s excitement stops you from speaking. 

“Oh my god! You’re transferring to Lobelia?!” She jumps, hands over her mouth.

“No!” Your voice cracks at the volume, and you bring it down as you clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about it. The forms are blank.”

“Well, thinking is over, maiden.” Chizuru smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. “You are wanting to become one of us! Isn’t that great, girls?”

“Don’t get too excited,” A warning laces your tone as you pull away from the blonde. “I was just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll even get in.”

“Please, beauty.” Beni says, spinning you as she and her gang begin to walk back into the halls of Ouran. “If you were intelligent enough to be accepted into Ouran High School, then you will be just as openly invited to join Lobelia Academy.” 

“Are you saying that Ouran has better academics?” You say, raising an eyebrow at the hand on the small of your back.

“Absolutely not!” Hinako scoffs. “Lobelia is the best in every wa-”

“Admittedly, yes.” The leader’s voice dips, and you can tell it pains her to have Ouran be the best at something. “But our grades have always placed second.”

And isn’t that where you should be?, you think as you pace back to the Music Room, somewhere that accepts second place? 

“Oh, hello there, young maiden.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, Benio calls to a figure that rounded a corner, unfortunately crossing the path of you and the Zuka Club. 

You see Haruhi whip her short hair around, eyes widening as she makes eye contact with the three girls in maroon skirts, before meeting yours. 

“Oh, hi ladies. Hey, (Y/n).” She waves, waiting for you to catch up to her. She eyes the way Benio’s hand guides your back. 

“You shouldn’t call her a maiden in public.” You hiss at the girls, pulling away from them for a second time. “It could raise the wrong idea.”

“Not for long.” Beni smiles, a song of victory in her inflection. “Are you prepared to leave, Haruhi?”

A confused look crosses over her visage. “Leave?”

Chizuru nods. “Yes! With (Y/n) on our side, we are prepared to confront those boys and set things straight once and for all.”

“What do you mean ‘set things straight’? (Y/n)? What are they talking about?”

“This, beauty.” Benio says, and to your horror, hands her the transfer forms she had stolen from you.  Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide, her intelligence making it so she connects the dots at a lightning speed. 

“No, no Haruhi, I promise, it’s not what you think.”

That makes her even more perplexed. “So, you’re not transferring to Lobelia?”

“She sure is.” Hinako nods, a smirk coming onto her face.

“All she has to do is sign, and we will-”

“Stop. Just, stop for a second and listen to me.” You’re begging at this point, already seeing the hurt sink into Haruhi’s eyes. 

“You three, shut up.” Pointing at the Zuka Club, you drag them to the otherside of the hallway. “Stay here while I talk to Haruhi.” 

You begin to move before you hear shuffling behind you, so you whip around, glaring. “In private.”

The Zuka Club just roll their eyes, but they turn anyway.

Turning back, you swallow when you see Haruhi has her mouth in a thin line, but you’re so grateful that she is reasonable enough to let you explain. 

“Haruhi, I’m not transferring.” You pause, taking a breath. “Yet.”

“Yet?” 

Taking the letter out of her hands, you straighten out the crinkled paper. “I was going to bring this to the meeting today to let everyone know that I was going to apply. I didn’t want you all to be blindsided.”

“Yeah, well. I feel pretty blindsided right now.” Haruhi scoffs, crossing her arms. “(Y/n), what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I just, I’m trying to fix things. And I keep making it worse. I thought that if I just left, things would get better on their own.”

“With us?”

You almost whine at the hurt look she gives you, like a hesitant deer coming out into the sun. “No, no, that’s not it. I love you, I love being your friend.”

And you realized you did. You had missed the silent support she gives you through your times of anxiety and stress, but you had been pushing her away because you were sad and angry. 

“I-I know I haven’t been around recently, and I really don’t want to talk about why.” You bite the inside of your lip again. “But I know that I want to be better, so I thought…”

“You thought leaving would help you be around more?” Haruhi asks, an exasperated smile highlighting her cheekbones. 

“...Yes? When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.” You chuckle. 

Haruhi shakes her head, punching you lightly in the shoulder. “That’s because it is.”

You stare at the ground for a minute before see her shift her weight. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I won’t press.” The honor student holds her hands in a mock-surrender. “But I do want to be here for you. Just like you are for me.” 

Your eyes meet hers again, brown crashing with (e/c), and it’s warm and sisterly. “Let me do that for you.”

A stuttering breath keeps your tears of joy at bay. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” You smile wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Haruhi just hums, taking the envelope in her hands and ripping it in half. “Yeah, you should be.” She finishes with a smile. 

A disappointed Zuka Club meets you back at the clubroom’s entrance. 

You quirk an eyebrow at them. “You eavesdropped, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we still haven’t heard Haruhi’s answer!” Chizuru exclaims.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. “Actually-”

“Nope! No time!” Benio rushes, pushing Haruhi through the doors as you follow behind. “Let’s show them that you, maiden, should come to school with us and be with your own kind!”

But all of them freeze. 

Stepping around them, you see their pale faces. Confused brows scrunching, you follow their eyeline to see colors and makeup, wigs and dresses and then-

Holy shit. 

Kyoya’s wearing a corset. 

“Ouran~!”

“Ouran~!”

“Ouran~!”

Off-key harmonization rings throughout the room, making sure to dampen the name Music Room #3. A bright light suddenly comes up on Tamaki, draped in a red gown with blonde extensions wrapped into a high ponytail. Red lipstick floods his mouth as he sings, posing in his very own spotlight. 

“Host Club welcomes you~!”

There’s silence as you scan each and every one of your hosts. The twins look elegant, Honey is just darling, and Mori is dashing in his blue suit. Kyoya is perched on the couch, a fan in one hand as his purple dress cascades over his long legs. 

Their makeup is terrible, their hair is hanging by a bobby pin on their heads, and once you and Haruhi meet eyes, it’s all over. The two of you double over laughing, clutching your sides as you collapse to the ground. 

Benio is raging, smoke practically coming out of her ears. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to make fun of womenkind?!”

Tamaki gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not.” He begins to make his way over to you, his ankles bending as he fails to walk in heels, making you laugh even harder. “My dears, you all have lived sheltered lives, and may not know that Haruhi and (Y/n) like free things.”

In the midst of your tears, Tamaki gathers his voice, raising his voice a few octaves which makes you wheeze. “You ladies may be distracted by the Zuka Club, but choose us! And you will not only gain a club of brothers, but sisters as well! See?”

He bats his false eyelashes, the glue coming off the edge of his eyelid. “Aren’t I pretty?”

The Hitachiin Twins pop out, and you and Haruhi can finally stand. “We’re the Hitachiian sisters! We’re just teasing you.” They giggle like girls, a hand over their lips. 

Honey-senpai prances about. “Listen, (N/n)-chan, Haru-chan, call me big sis, okay?” He asks, big eyes staring up at you as Mori taps his tambourine. 

You looked expectantly at Kyoya to pose, flounce, do something, but you smirk when he just rolls his purple-shadowed eyes, his fan covering his face. 

“Do you idiots really think you can win them over like this? I mean–”

But Tamaki’s head piece tilted off his head, floating to the ground, and it made both the honor students crack up again.

“Oh my god, I can’t breathe. I’m dying!” You cry, trying to catch your breath. 

“This is too much! I don’t even know what you are trying to do?” Haruhi adds, and your laughter sings across the pink walls. 

“You really think we’re that funny?” The twins come up to the both of you, purposefully swaying their hips. It breaks you down, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. The twins lunge at you and start chasing you, only for them to stumble as they run in heels. They try to catch you around your middle, your tears of joy flying back behind you.

“Maiden, what is your decision?” Benio gets Haruhi’s attention as they watch you three run around, and Haruhi just shakes her head. 

“I’m sorry, but your club’s not for me. I think your school is great, but I came to Ouran with a goal and a plan for my future. I don’t think I was ever going to really leave Ouran.”

“Haruhi~!” Tamaki practically melts, violet eyes glistening as he twirls over to her. But then, he stops suddenly, pointing at her with an accusatory grimace. It was hard to take seriously. 

“Wait, if you knew you weren’t going to leave, then why did you act all angry yesterday?”

Haruhi put her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I took something of yours without asking? I really liked that pencil!”

“But I asked if you wanted my teddy bear pencil in return and you refused!” The prince whined, bringing the pencil back out from the confines of his skirt. 

“That’s right, and I still don’t want it.” She says blandly, causing Tamaki to whimper. 

Throughout the chaos, the Zuka Club stands.

“Um, Benio…” Chizuru starts. “Maybe we should-”

“Yes, I know.” The leader of the Zuka Club sighs, a frown creasing her handsome features. “We are not going to give up on you maidens! I swear, someday, we will come and rescue you from this place!”

No one is paying attention. Benio growls, spinning around and mumbling to herself as they walk out of the clubroom. 

“And when we do, we will abolish the host club.”

The afternoon’s session ends with a bang. The guests loved the get-ups and the dresses, absolutely swooning over every host in the room. But now, as the chaos dies down and things are being cleaned up, you square your shoulders. 

I deserve to be here. You think over and over, and it lightens the weight on your chest. I deserve to be here, to be happy and to get answers. I deserve to try. 

Taking a sharp breath, you find a tall form, black hair a little messy from the absence of a wig as Kyoya reaches behind his back, struggling with the strings on his corset. 

“Need help?” You ask gently, but he still jumps, his head turning ever-so-slightly to look over his shoulder. 

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, and you see the tips of red that color his ears. “Unfortunately.” He admits.

A small chuckle breaks through your lips, and your fingers begin to work the strings of the corset off of him, brushing against the button-up shirt he kept underneath. 

Looking up, you realize that he is impossibly taller than usual. “You’re still wearing the heels?” He is standing straight, perfectly balanced as if he immediately mastered the art of wearing them.

“I couldn’t bend over to take them off with this corset suffocating me. I don’t know how women ever wore these monstrosities.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” You laugh, and the tension eases slightly, both in the air and on the straps of his corset as the piece comes undone, and you step away. 

He steps out of it and sighs into a chair, pulling his ankle onto his knee to work on the strap on the shoe. You bite the inside of your lip, shifting your weight on your feet a little-

“You need to stop doing that at some point. It’s a bad habit. ” Kyoya’s voice interrupts your awkward shuffling and you stand straighter, looking up at him.

“Doing what?”

“The lip-biting.” He says, not even looking at you as he ties his own dress shoes into place. “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t sacrifice the integrity of your lips just because your anxious.”

“Right.” You release your lip from between your teeth, a small smile being placed on them instead. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to keep me here at Ouran.”

His gray eyes flick up at you as he works his laces for a brief moment before he nods. “I think everyone would agree that you are an asset to this organization.”

“And for speaking to me again.”

This time his foot drops off his knee, and he is looking up at you from his seat. It’s as if he’s realizing he has subtly lifted his cold shoulder. 

“Yes, well, I thought that maybe, if you weren’t going to apologize, it was time.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, crossing your arms. “Because my pestering did nothing to push that along?”

He simply pushes up his glasses. “Your presence is quite grating.”

A smile pushes it way to your mouth before you can stop it, and soon you are pulling it back, remembering why you came over here. 

“Look, I know you’re mad at me.”

“Because you were unsafe, reck–”

“Reckless, stupid, yes I know.” You finish for him before he can repeat what he berated you for on the beach. “But, I’m mad at you, too.”

His shoulder straighten at that. “Wh–”

“I,” You sigh, holding up a finger. “I can’t tell you why. Not yet. But I just wanted to say, if we are going to be mad at each other without trying to fix it, then we need to set some ground rules.”

His sharp features deadpanned. “And what, (Y/n), would those be?”

“You can’t call me stupid. We both know that I’m not” Assertiveness races through your voice, and you see him wince at the memory of him doing just that.

“We have to talk to each other. It doesn’t have to be as…constant, as it was.” You swallow, and the atmosphere depresses just a little. “But we have to be communicative.”

“Except when you don’t want to talk about something? How is that fair?” The businessman pushes, leaning his elbows onto his bent knees. 

“I told you I will. When I’m ready. I know you might not think so, but I deserve that.” You can tell that Kyoya wants to retort, but one look from you, and it dies in his throat.

“And lastly,” Your voice loses that harsh, dictatorial tone, growing softer as you watch him intently. “I want you to know that I’m thankful you took that dive for me.”

Kyoya stops blinking, those calm gray clouds switching between each of your pupils. 

“I don’t know what it ruined, but I’m sad that what I did broke whatever was, or what I thought was possibly…growing between us. But I will forever be grateful that I had a friend like you who would jump off a cliff for me.” You take a beat, grasping at your hands. 

“That’s it.” Looking back up, you see Kyoya looking at you with the warmth that you thought you had lost, but then it’s gone as he shakes his head. “I’ll see you around.”

Spinning on your heel, your shoes clack across the tile before you hear Kyoya’s voice call out behind you. “(Y/n).”

Turning, you look at him, standing with a loosely buttoned shirt, his voice floating through the air. 

“You’re welcome.”

Next Time on Lavender Roses

“Is Haruhi really suffering in poverty? I have to see for myself!”

“She is probably fine, we don’t need to go over.” 

“Wait, (Y/n), how did you know about that?”

Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

thank you again for being patient! let me know what you think in the comments!

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love you :)

[sunsh1n3s]

— lecture. ( don hume x reader )

a.n. sorry for the long wait for a fic from me. english and nursing class have been kicking my ass!! please enjoy this fic, the plot is inspired by parts of the book and this ask :)

contains. swearing, fem!reader

coach ulbrickson’s fake races were killing don. the boys were finally organized into decent working boats, and he made sure of it. working them for hours with races or practices, making sure they met his standards. don’s boat relied on him the most, as he created the pace and kept them somewhat stable. it was also a curse, creating the new pace and fighting against the speed of the old one; wearing don down like some type of machine.

he did it with no complaint, still rowing and racing with ease. but it came back to taunt him once he laid in bed and struggled to wake up in the morning.

not only were his teammates aware of it, his table partner in his class was also.

y/n sat beside him in their chemistry class, not one she’d advise anyone to sleep in. she noticed twice now that he dosed off, but never said anything or disturbed him; as he never talked to her or disturbed her. she didn’t mind him though, she doubted that he’d ever disturb her.

don was always quiet and calm, so spending the hour of lecture or experiments beside him was something she preferred over her other classes. however, she didn’t know much about him other than his olympic level skill on the rowing team. but y/n knew about his talent, and how valuable he was to the team. she had sat nearby him and his teammates in the study hall, yet her and her friends always had to move because they slowly got louder. they always had something to say about don’s skill.

y/n was not the only one picking up on things about the table partner. don noticed many things about y/n also, he always noticed her. he was frequently too nervous to say anything to her, though she was probably one of the easiest people to talk to. she was well known around school, just because of her social skills, smarts, and kindness. don felt lucky to sit beside her, even if it sounded strange to say. he was just scared that one wrong thing would ruin the calm be had beside her, even if they never really spoke to one another.

another day, another chemistry class. don made his way in before y/n, like normal. he waited to hear her laughter as she walked in alongside her friend, only parting to go to her seat. he glanced at the door, then his watch. as if she was following a routine, don heard y/n’s familiar laugh and goodbye to her friend as she scooted past people to sit beside don.

“good morning.” she greeted like usual, flashing him a smile. “morning.” he replied, giving her a small one. don acted like his ears weren’t red, and y/n didn’t dare to say anything. she looked down at her notebook with a small smile, waiting for the professor to start lecturing.

once he did, don fought sleep to take notes shown on the board or whatever he heard the professor say that seemed important. it was like his muscles and eyes fought against him. the lights off, dim projector light, and comfort of the calmness between him and y/n; don was set to fall asleep.

once he did, he was out.

somehow his breathing was as silent as he normally was. y/n noticed this once when she took notes for him.

like she had before, y/n grabbed his notebook and read where he was at, adding her own notes while the teacher continued to ramble on. she understood don’s exhaustion, so she didn’t mind writing some for him. she matched his notes to hers and made sure to neatly write so he could read what she wrote for him.

don woke, face flushed when he realized he fell asleep. y/n noticed and slid over his notebook with a small smile, continuing to take her notes while he blinked at the notebook in front of him. don glanced at her and started writing more notes, embarrassed at how messy his handwriting seemed in comparison to hers. “thank you.” he whispered, making her blush and smile at him. “anytime.” she replied.

the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by him, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates.

“don, what the hell happened to your handwriting?” bobby asked, making chuck lean over to look at the nicely written handwriting, semi cursive. they looked at him, along with some of the other boys.

don turned red, “i fell asleep. y/n took my notes and wrote what i missed down.” he explained, you could hear the glee in his voice yet he didn’t smile; he didn’t want to create chaos.

the boys looked at him shocked, y/n, the popular and smart girl of don’s class noticed him. “how long has she been doing this?” bobby asked, leaning over to look more at the papers. don paused his work and looked back, flipping a few times through the notes. “like four times.” he replied.

“don she’s got feelings for you. you have to ask her out.” john said. don sat there in silence, shaking his head. “no i’m good.” he replied, making them all groan and sigh. “well the girls next to me don’t take my notes for me while i’m asleep, they don’t even look at me. she’s into you.” rodger explained, getting up to leave.

“she’d be better with the football guys over there.” don said, turning and looking over to see y/n standing with her friends while they talked with a few of the guys on the football team. y/n glanced over and noticed them staring, she held eye contact with don and waved slightly. he nodded at her as his way of waving and they both looked away. bobby noticed the smile that lingered on her face, fixing her hair and talking less to the guys.

“you know you did play football, basketball, and ran track. you have those guys beat.” bobby informed, looking at don again. all don could do was brush him off, convinced the well known and social girl would go for the quiet and lesser known guy.

“you need to tell her you like her, or ask her out or something.” bobby continued, glancing at him and back at y/n, who moved away from a guy’s action to keep her close. her friends looked at her and she gave them a defensive look, “she’s reserved for someone, maybe you.” roger spoke, shocked at the beauty denying the guy.

“don’t get my hopes up.” don said monotonously, watching her in awe.

don stood in front of ulbrickson with chuck, jim, and george. he looked at a paper and looked up at them, “you boys need to get your grades up.” he started, pressing them into the importance of academics and being on the team, a lecture they heard before.

they couldn’t say much against his disappointment and slight irritation. don just watched and remained silent, something he was decent at but it irritated ulbrickson. “hume, you have to ace your final exam. fail it and we lose you- i cannot lose you. don’t grow an ego about that.” ulbrickson warned. don nodded, listening to his coach’s command.

“maybe get a tutor to help, or a study friend.” he weakly implied, desperate for don to keep up with his grades.

the implication or suggestion from ulbrickson fueled bobby’s ideas and demands that don had to ask y/n out. he found the pairing perfect, and he had talked to y/n before; she wouldn’t turn down helping don, regardless of how she felt about him.

when he could, bobby spoke on y/n, but never too much. it reached the point where they stood in front of y/n, don looking down at her quiet, while bobby stood beside him with a small smile. “am i being interrogated?” she asked, with a small nervous smile.

“don has a question that’s all, don’t ya don?” bobby quipped, nudging his friend. don nodded and hummed, “i need help studying for our final, i thought maybe we both could study together.” he explained, saying the most he’s ever said to y/n; ever.

y/n blinked and smiled, “i’d love to.” she answered softly, and don felt faint. “i thought i’d have to ask to see you myself, but i’m glad you did.” she teased. don blushed a bit, “you want to see me more?” he asked, adjusting his bracelet out of nerves. he wanted to disappear yet stay in the moment forever. y/n nodded at the question, “yeah, i think you’re cool.” she admitted. bobby was grinning now, don would never hear the end of it after this.

y/n could sense the slight awkwardness, “okay! so tomorrow let me know when you’re free. i’ll see you.” she bid her goodbyes with a smile and walked away, don could hear the flutter of hellos she gave to people she passed. he stood there shocked whilst bobby smiled at him. “got yourself a date.” bobby teased.

don turned to watch her leave, smiling slightly.

the glow don got from asking her, or knowing he had plans with her, lasted throughout his practice. don improved his strokes and practiced well, it was noticeable. what caused don to glide smoother and bloom in confidence? the confident one herself.

soon enough, the guys knew, and it was the talk in the jv boat until don went on his study date.

“i really don’t know much.” don said, realizing how behind and lost he was in the lectures. y/n looked up from her book, “do you need me to explain anything?” she asked, sliding out of her seat to sit in the empty one beside him.

don’s posture straightened and his breath caught in his throat, he looked at her and nodded. “alright so,” she jumped into explanation, pointing at what the notes said and the equations in front of them. don listened, looking at her face then back at her hands then back at her face. her knowledge was attractive, making her more beautiful.

“you’re lucky i know this unit. otherwise we’d be fucked.” she spoke, making him laugh slightly at her cursing. “yeah-yeah, we don’t want that.” don said, smiling at her. y/n looked up at him, returning the smile.

they both worked on their equations that they were advised would help on the quiz. don glanced at y/n’s paper, and y/n herself. she flowed through the worksheet somewhat easily, she cursed to herself here and there, erasing the whole equation.

an hour passed, they both sat in comfortable silence; y/n remained by don’s side. eventually she finished the entirety of the studying, and don completed a bit after her. they both groaned and rubbed their eyes in result of staring at the paper for hours. knuckles cracked, shoulders were rolled, and sighs were let out. the two were exhausted.

y/n rested her head on the table, letting out a long sigh. don watched her with a small smile, “want to go out and get ice cream?” he asked, checking his watch. coach wouldn’t kill him for a small cone and coming back at eight pm. y/n sat up tiredly, smiling at don. “i do owe you for your time.” don added, smiling sheepishly. y/n yawned and shook her head, “i enjoy spending time with you. i’d love to get ice cream.” she agreed, needing a pick me up and wanted more time with him.

so the two packed up their bags and left the library. it was cooler out as the night came by, but it was perfect. together, they walked side by side towards the ice cream shop, gradually getting closer.

don opened the door for y/n and took her bag, letting her order and relax while he followed with his own order. y/n noticed the gestures, feeling special by them. don looked at her, catching her staring. she smiled and so did he, “what?” he asked quietly while they waited for their cones. y/n simply shook her head, “you’re just handsome, personality and looks.” she complimented. don was slightly taken aback, he smiled and tried to form a sentence. however they were both interrupted by the worker, handing them their ice cream.

both don and y/n sat outside next to one another, they both stared out at the water that don constantly fought against. “you have hope in this test that’ll save you your spot on the team?” y/n teased, looking at him. don chuckled, “if anything, you saved me my spot.” he replied. y/n became flustered and looked away from him, silently eating as her cheeks and ears burned.

“you’re truly a lifesaver. to me and like everyone you help and know. which is a lot.” he continued, making her laugh and nudge him. “not a lot.” she replied, making him shake his head. “not true, you’re like the most well known girl here. not because of only your beauty, your smarts and kindness too.” don explained, going silent when he realized he admitted his thoughts of her.

y/n was now the one speechless, “you’re too kind.” she said, smiling at him. he shook his head again, “it’s just the truth.” he replied. y/n took in his features and his small sly smile, he let his eyes move down her face then back to her eyes. it was the perfect moment to make a move, don took a second longer, “are you into any of those football guys?” he asked nervously, quietly. “anyone more known?” he added. y/n caught his drift, or his nervousness, and shook her head.

“no im just into this one rower who falls asleep next to me in class, i really like him and like to see him succeed so i help him by taking his notes.” y/n admitted, smiling at don. a full smile grew on his face, “really?” he asked. y/n nodded and don took it as the actual perfect opportunity, kissing her gently.

they both sat there, pulling away with bashful smiles. “once we pass, we should go out for ice cream again. or just go out again eventually.” she whispered, don smiled at her suggestion, “i’d like that.” he replied and kissed her again.

and so they had their second ice cream date, every year on the same day, even on the night of their wedding. the two were bound to fall in love, it just took several lectures to get to where they needed to be.

a.n hope you enjoyed!

tags: @gvfsstardust

[seoulmatez]

𝓈𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉

kuroo tetsuro x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ kuroo and reader both work as interns ﾉ unrealistic labor laws ( for the sake of the plot :3 )

it’s noon, 12 p.m. on the dot, and you’re stuck in a conference room taking notes on a boring, long-winded presentation instead of getting lunch like you’re supposed to be. most of the items you’re tasked with as an intern turn out to be lackluster and this wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t sure this meeting would drag on for at least another twenty minutes. it’s just your luck that you’ll be taking a late lunch on the day you skipped breakfast.

you’ll be lucky if your stomach doesn’t growl from the back of the room.

your focus lessens with each passing second and you find your eyes drifting from the powerpoint displayed on the projector to the glass wall separating the room from the hallway. the voices around you fade into background noise as you watch people walk by. you see the man who introduced you to the team on your first day, the woman who didn’t hold the door for you when your hands were full with everyone’s coffee orders, and finally, the group of your fellow interns—on their way to lunch, no doubt.

one of them in particular sticks out to you, tall frame and messy black hair. he must feel a pair of eyes on him because he slows and holds back from the rest of the group, head turning to look into the conference room. his hazel gaze meets yours.

kuroo’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he points at the watch situated on his wrist and then down the hall. you don’t need words to tell what he’s saying. it’s time for lunch, you coming?

you shake your head subtly, not trying to garner the attention of anyone in the room. you’re supposed to be working, after all. with the end of your pen, you point to the screen. can’t, i’m stuck in here for who knows how long.

at your reply, kuroo frowns, lifting his finger up to the corner of his eye and dragging it down his cheek like a lone tear. it almost makes you laugh but you bite back the sound in just enough time. 

you’re tempted to wave at him, though, you’re sure the gesture would be enough to tell every one of your superiors that you aren’t paying attention. and while that fact is true, you’d rather not be scolded for it.

so you give him a sad smile and kuroo waves for you.

with a sigh louder than you intend it to be, you turn your focus toward the front of the room and pick up where you left off on your notes.

by the time you’re free from the dull air and monotone voices of that meeting, you’re only left with fifteen minutes to find and eat something. it’s not enough time to leave the office like you usually would, so it’s starting to look like your only option is going through the snack drawer at your desk. 

you click your tongue in annoyance as you navigate the hallways that lead to your work area. you’d bet money that everyone else in that room still gets to enjoy your entire hour-long break. meanwhile, you’re stuck getting through the rest of the day on a measly granola bar or pack of crackers.

the only thing that slows you down on your mission is a shout that you’re almost positive is directed at you. “hey, speed racer! over here!”

your head jerks in the direction of the familiar voice. it came from the break room where you typically take your lunch with the other interns and it doesn’t take you more than a second to match it to kuroo. he’s standing in the doorway, one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other holding up a store-bought bento box.

“want this?” he asks.

the tension in your shoulders melts away upon hearing his offer. you clasp your hands together in a show of thanks as you approach him. “my knight in shining armor.”

kuroo laughs—snorts, really—as he holds out the meal for you to take. you happily do so, smiling up at him before making your way into the break room. the others have all but finished eating and are using what little time they have left of lunch to relax—chat about things that don’t concern work, scroll aimlessly on their phones, whatever they want.

you’re envious, though, you do suppose you’re lucky enough to have someone like kuroo looking out for you. he didn’t have to buy you the bento but he did anyway. you pull out a chair at the table kuroo was at before flagging you down, plopping down in the seat and popping off the plastic lid of your meal.

kuroo has taken his seat next to you and as you take hold of your chopsticks, you look up to ask him, “how much do i owe you for this?”

he shakes his head. “it’s a gesture from the kindness of my heart.”

you believe him. if there’s one thing kuroo is, it’s considerate. that’s probably why you like him so much. he keeps you sane in the chaos that is your internship. you’re sure you would have crumbled under the pressure of it all if kuroo wasn’t here experiencing it with you. his kindness deserves to be repaid.

“well, if you don’t want my money, how about i get lunch for you tomorrow?” you stuff a lump of rice into your mouth. it’s plain, but the first thing you’ve eaten all day so it tastes heavenly as far as you’re concerned.

“sure.” he grins. “if you’re not trapped in another meeting.”

you roll your eyes, holding a hand up to your mouth to shield your chewing from his view. “don’t even get me started.”

kuroo breathes out a short laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. each strand nearly stays in place despite the action. “what was it about anyway?”

“budget for the upcoming quarter.” at least, that’s what you gathered. you were pretty much on autopilot the entire time you were taking notes. “they spent the last half an hour trying to compromise over cuts. it was torture, kuroo.”

you’re being dramatic—you know that and he does too but it doesn’t stop him from telling you, “ i would have traded places with you in a heartbeat.”

the sincerity in his tone and in his eyes catch you off guard when you look up from your food at him. he isn’t joking around to appease your theatrics—he means what he said. he’d sit through that meeting and almost miss lunch if that meant you didn’t have to.

you try to hide the smile spreading across your lips by taking another bite of food—rolled egg this time. “you’re too nice to be going into business. i wish everyone in this office thought like you.”

kuroo chuckles and shrugs, like your compliment was unwarranted. “all the more reason to do it, right?”

he’s right. the world could use more people like him. although, you doubt anyone could ever match kuroo tetsuro.

there’s a knock on the door even though it’s open. one of your supervisors. “five minutes until everyone needs to be back at their desks.”

the room erupts in half-hearted sounds of understanding. the reminder ignites you with irritation. does he think that none of you know how to read a clock?

“gonna be able to finish that in five?” kuroo asks, pointing to what’s left of your bento.

you nod. “don’t worry, i don’t plan on wasting a bite of your kindness.”

you and kuroo spend the last few minutes of your break talking about nothing in particular. as you sit beside him, listen to him, you realize that you’re really looking forward to coming in tomorrow. all because of him.

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting :3