#but I don’t think Pencil would miss the opportunity to kiss a girl

[wowieeitsisa]

Post that does not follow the ‘me posting art from months ago’ program

Leafy and Pin gijinkas, GO !! (+pincil moment)

[sometimesanalice]

Morgan, you get out of here with this! Are you kidding me?!

This was so fun, so cute, so yeehaw! 🤠 Cowboy Bob must be protected at all costs, but Bob from Stats has my whole heart!

More for you!

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. - this is such a visual image! A blushing Bob and that big hand outstretched with a pencil tucked between his fingers? Lord help me. I just know that man has been buying the big box of ticonderoga pencils! He’s going to win her over with the good erasers! But also this is so goofy and cute and 100% fratboy bob energy! Precious and unproblematic!

Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together.— oh dear 🫠🫠🫠 you KNOW what this does to me Morgan!! Not him rolling up to class in the same fit every time, lolol. That’s his Tuesday/Thursday outfit 🧢

Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.— he’s drinking tequila, his hands are fluttering about, he’s the cutest mess you’ve ever seen 🤩🤩🤩

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”//The wink makes your mouth dry.— not his buddies egging him on, I can’t it’s too cute! Drunk Bob is loose lipped and taking about the pretty girl from stats any chance he gets 😂 but look at him all smooth! That hobby horse has room for two! Wrap your arms around that solid waist, babe, and giddy up!! Do it for all of us! When one of us thrives, we all thrive!

Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. — plsssss he’s so shy and sweet and adorable and looks really good in a pair of jeans! He’s been trying to play it cool, but now you’ve seen him gallop and he’s like “I can’t give her the ick before I’ve taken her on a date!”, but little does he know that WORKED in his favor 🥰

You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. — I absolutely ADORED this! It’s such a sweet sentiment. Cowboy Bob is a bit more cheeky and extroverted. But she’s been crushing on the sweet boy who gives her the pencils in class! She likes all sides of him she’s been getting to see, but I thought this was just a very cute moment.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”//You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”//He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”— PLSSSSS THIS MANNNNNNNNNN I CANNOT HE HAS BEEN PLAYING THE LONG GAME I LOVE HIM.

How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.— truly SO unfair. The audacity of him!

He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.— CHEEKY BOY 🥰🥰🥰

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.- 🤠 she earned that hat! But I love him getting to be like “that’s MY girl”! I’m so giddy over it!

He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.— straight to jail if you don’t kiss that cute boy miss ma’am!

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.— not him keeping count, I can’tttttt! Oh he is so smitten 🤭

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”//Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.— I KNEW ITTTTTT!! (And she at some point had to be forgetting them on purpose because I’d want to keep getting pencils from Bob too 💁🏼‍♀️)

Oh this was so fun and sweet! I’m fully kicking my feet and grinning from ear to ear!!

Bob From Stats | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: f!reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, dry humping, alcohol, drunken party games, mentions of studying because that gives me PTSD, semi-exaggerated Greek life for theatrical reasons

A Note From Mo: Somehow my frat!Bob, drunk Bob is Rhett, and 7 minutes in heaven ideas all rolled into one fic - wild! Massive shoutout to everyone who listened to me talk about Stats Bob (who is now officially my #2 Bob, I love him) and for supporting this here lil blog. May you find a hobby-horse-wielding future WSO to sweep you off your feet too!

“I hate this. I’m going to quit school and become a stripper.”

Anna gives you a wry look. “That joke was only funny the first time you said it.”

“So you admit I’m funny!”

The two of you have been spread out in the library the majority of the evening. Textbooks, snacks, and highlighters littering the glossy dark wood. You’re on hour five of assignments and your brain is pounding against the front of your skull. Your other classes aren’t too bad, a bit time consuming, but Statistics is a foreign language. Thinking in probable numbers? It was one thing when the nice guy who sat behind you helped explain concepts, but Anna does not have quite the same analytical mind.

The sky outside is an inky black and the library is quiet except for your frustrated huffs. It’s Saturday night. The rest of campus is indulging in cheap beers at Barney’s, slinking along Greek Row, or enjoying tonight’s episode of Saturday Night Live. It’s time to get out of here and crawl into your soft bed. Torturing yourself with Stats homework will be just as painful on Sunday.

“If I buy us a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough, can we blow this off and hang out back at the dorms?” Anna is nodding before you’ve even finished. Stuffing notebooks into backpacks and capping pens low on ink, you’re strolling down the library stairs not even five minutes later.

As the balmy evening campus air hits your face, you already feel fresher. Campus is quiet, late enough that most people are settled into their Saturday night plans. As the two of you near Greek Row, there’s a comfortable silence as you appreciate the breeze through the trees and the warm glow of campus housing windows.

That is, until a low whoop rings out. An undercurrent of boisterous cheering and what sounds like stomping feet. You exchange eyes with your roommate. What is that?

As if summoned, a group comes galloping through the neatly trimmed cypress trees around the corner. They’re stomping their feet in a rhythm, hands held mid-air to imitate holding reigns. Drunken laughs ring out between cries of “Whoa!” and “Steady there, Lucky!” To round it off, the leader of their horse play (literally) is full-on cosplaying as a cowboy, his jeans tucked into boots and a Stetson perched atop his head. 

Wait, is he holding a hobby horse? It’s been decades since you’ve seen those horse heads stuck on a stick. The stuffed felt Appaloosa head is reigned in the cowboy’s hands, where he pretends to spur it back into action. 

Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

The group continues its way toward you and you’re equally secondhand embarrassed and amused. As they grow closer you recognize a few guys from the Pi Kapp house and wave. But it’s Anna who makes the most shocking discovery when Mr. Cowboy tilts his brim up.

"Is that Bob from Stats?" 

It takes a second to look past the brown felt hat and the hobby horse he's taking for a spin, but that's definitely the same pink-cheeked Bob Floyd who has lent you a pencil all semester. 

“Howdy, ladies.” He tips his hat to you, all toothy grin and droopy drunk eyes. "Can I offer you a ride?"

You stare open-mouthed. Shocked. That slow rancher drawl is new. The unbridled confidence is new. Actually, the entire getup is new. For nine weeks you’ve seen him in the same trucker hat and sweatshirt combo while going over homework answers together. What is going on?

He’s clearly in the middle of his house party crawl, bright blue eyes half open behind his metal frames. Just as gorgeous as ever as a tendril of sandy hair curls against his forehead. Normally your reaction to him is tender, a puppy dog crush. But this wild, inebriated version of him? You’re hot under the collar.

“You think there’s room on your horse?” Ever since that first Stats class he’s made your brain feel like it’s on RedBull. The way he noticed you missing a writing utensil and offering you his extra. His kind smile when you get a homework answer completely wrong. Anna hasn’t noticed your crush, but it feels obvious with the way you can barely keep eye contact with him yet are unable to look away. Especially with that stupid cowboy hat on.

He bites his lip, considering your response, and his buddies all razz him as he drawls out, “There will be if we squeeze in.”

The wink makes your mouth dry.

Someone from the back of the group complains of the cold and the group prepares their steeds to head back to Pi Kapp. Anna explains you’re headed back to the dorms, tone deaf to the sexual tension, and Bob nods with his brow furrowed. 

“Another time then.” His white tshirt practically glows in the moonlight. “Have a good night, chickadees. Get home safe!”

With another tip of his Stetson to you, Bob Floyd gallops away toward another keg. 

You’re sprinting across campus, cursing how late your meeting with your advisor went. There was ten minutes to get across campus and he had spent four of those questioning whether you really needed another semester of French. You make it into the lecture hall with a minute to spare, finding your preferred spot in the lower rows where you can actually see the board. Right in front of Bob.

“What? No cowboy hat for class?” His cheeks flame red, the hope you’ve forgotten about his Saturday antics lost. He looks like himself today, his signature trucker cap keeping the hair off his face. Those friendly ultramarine eyes shyly focusing on his notebook because god forbid he makes eye contact after you’ve seen him gallop across campus on a fake horse. 

He rubs the back of his neck over his soft-looking crewneck, an awkward smile playing on his lips. “It’s at the cleaners.”

You give him an amused grin before settling yourself into one of the classically uncomfortable lecture seats. Anna waves to you from where she’s rushing in, historically always late. The professor is shuffling notes at the podium as she collapses into the seat next to you, nodding her head in greeting to you and to Bob. She raises her eyebrows to you, a “remember when Bob was dressed as a cowboy” gesture, and your lips twist happily. 

“Alright, class, who’s ready to talk probability?” The collective groans and hollers mark the start of lecture. You flip open your notebook and start digging around for a writing instrument in your bag. Like usual, you seem to be missing a pen or pencil when you need one most.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn and lock eyes with the frat boy-turned-cowboy with the shy smile. He holds out a pencil to you. Taking it sheepishly, you mouth a thank you and turn back to lecture. After nine weeks it shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but every week he’s given you a pencil since you whispered shoot! a little too loud on Week 1.

Risking a quick glance back at him, engrossed in the Empirical Law of Averages while he twirls his pencil, you’re not sure you can survive the rest of the semester.

By the end of the Stats lecture on Thursday, you have one brain cell to your name and seven pages of notes. What a brutal class. Midterms were quickly approaching and not a single professor had any mercy. As you pack up your stuff - including the borrowed pencil that would promptly disappear before next class - you make a study plan with Anna for that evening. She brings the chips, you’ll supply the vodka.

“Are you two not hitting the houses tonight?” He looks uncomfortable having interrupted the two of you.

Bob shifts his backpack to his other shoulder, adjusting the collar of his navy blue sweatshirt. Other than when he’s kindly exchanged homework answers before class - or been drunkenly galloping across campus - the two of you don’t speak much. The odd quip here and there, but overall the two of you exist in pencil-sharing quiet. “Everyone’s having pre-midterm parties before buckling down to study.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You look at Anna encouragingly. As needed as a vodka-infused study session was, one night out couldn’t hurt. And it was Thursday. No classes tomorrow meant you had three days to buckle down and attempt to understand anything you’ve learned this semester. 

She eyes you warily, but agrees that Greek Row sounds like a better option than highlighting textbooks. Bob flashes you his timid smile beneath the brim of his cap. “It’ll be a fun night. Maybe I’ll see you? If not, have a good weekend!” 

As he starts to walk out, a feeling takes over you. “Bob?” You watch him slow down and turn, wide blue eyes watching you from behind those unconventionally cute glasses. “You’ll be at the Pi Kapp house, yeah?” He nods. “Cool. See you around!”

Despite standing next to it the entire conversation, neither of you notice the pencil sitting on the desk, left behind as you head out for your respective weekends.

“What did you say?” You’re practically yelling to be heard over the EDM that Sigma Chi is blaring. They’ve turned their house into a rave with glow sticks, body paint, and music so loud your eardrums must be burst. The beer is warm, your arm has supernaturally purple paint smeared across it, and Anna has been unsuccessfully telling you a story for ten minutes.

Huffing, she grabs your arm and drags you toward the entrance, tossing your cups onto a random hallway table where a heated makeout session is taking place. They move out of the way just enough so the two of you can slip out of the old colonial house and out into the cool night. The ringing in your ears subsides slowly as you lean against the columns of the front porch. 

“House number three? Also sucked. Three strikes and you’re out? Can we go home?” Anna grabs your wrist and pouts. She wanted movie night with vodka and a pizza from Pietro’s. You wanted to blow off steam.

But Alpha Sig had mostly been freshman and Phi Delt, while not a terrible party, had the most smarmy men on campus. The bleeding eardrums of Sigma Chi was preferable to pushing off men in polos just to grab another drink. You just wanted a semi-decently flavored alcoholic beverage - maybe three - while chatting with some friends. You weren’t asking for much.

Allowing Anna to drag you in the direction of the dorms, ready to admit defeat, you slow to a stop seeing the bricked entrance to Pi Kappa Phi. Bob’s fraternity. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt, right?

It takes a little convincing, but soon you’re in the warmly lit foyer of the Pi Kapp house. The vibe is more relaxed than Sigma Chi, with a keg in the corner, an array of liquor bottles in the kitchen, and hip-hop softly filling the house. You’re impressed they’ve even gone the extra mile with multi-colored string lights across every surface to brighten up the otherwise dark house. 

“Yooooo, how’s it going?” A drunken loaf of snapback and Deep Eddy envelopes you in a hug. It’s Tyler, one of your freshman seminar PK friends. Exchanging pleasantries - the best you can with someone that far gone - he drags you further into the house. Miscellaneous groups of Greek and geed litter the hallways. Anna sees her friends from Delta Gamma and ditches you, promising to get home safe. Tyler continues on his mission to god knows where.

At least he’s considerate enough to stop in the kitchen so you can grab a whiskey lemonade to sip.

Eventually you’re spat into a sitting room of sorts, groups crowding the ring of sofas while drunkenly jeering at the game. You set yourself on the arm of one, trying to make sense of the theatrics. The latest victim laughs out a “Truth!” before everyone giggles wickedly. Are they playing truth or dare? 

Your eyes gloss over the group, trying to figure out who else you know. A few PK’s you recognize, a girl who smiles but looks unfamiliar, and…a cowboy hat that is a dead giveaway.

Standing up and walking around the group, you tap him on the shoulder. The biggest blue eyes meet yours, a surprised smile splitting his face. 

“You made it!” That deep drawl is back and that tingle reappears on your spine. Bob jumps up from the couch, beer bottle dwarfed in his hand, and comes to stand with you. “You having a good night?”

Ironically, your night is much better now that you’ve found him. He’s back in his cowboy gear, a worn denim shirt tucked into his jeans and those same cowboy boots scuff against the hardwood. You’re tempted to steal the felt hat from his head just so he looks a little bit more like Bob from Stats. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, letting the alcohol be an excuse, you succumb to the obvious question. “I need to know - what’s with the…cowboy?” You gesture up and down, drawing a chuckle from him.

He blushes under the felt brim. “You know I have a slight accent, yeah?” You attempt to stifle your laugh as he incidentally talks in a thicker accent. “When I was a pledge they started calling me cowboy. Saw the hat while I was in town one week, ended up leaning into the joke.”

“And the hobby horse?”

He beckons you closer, bringing his lips to your ear. “Stolen from my little sister over summer break.”

There’s that wink again making your knees weak. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes another sip from his beer. Despite the party raging around you, nothing else seems to exist past him asking about your night and if you want another drink. You’re wrapped in the warmth of his words, itching to snuggle into his broad chest. 

The spell is broken when “Cowboy Bob!” rings out from the crowd. The entire room is turned to you two. “Truth or dare, man?”

In the background of your intimate conversation with Bob, the truths and dares have reached full raunchiness. People have been stripped of clothes and dirty secrets. A bead of sweat gathers at Bob’s collar, aware that neither option is safe. 

His worried gaze flits to you, as if you hold the correct answer, before tipping his hat back and exhaling, “Dare?” 

It’s gutsy, but if there’s one thing you’re learning about the quiet guy from Stats, he’s full of surprises. The crowd bubbles with excitement, anticipating what dare will be dealt out. Next to you, the wannabe cowboy looks more annoyed than anything. He was enjoying talking to you not in a classroom and with a little liquid courage.

An evil smile crosses the dare-dealer’s face. He knows Bob and isn’t blind to what’s going on. He’s gonna help his buddy out on this one.

His arm stretches out and he points (with the red plastic cup in his hand) to the coat closet at the end of the hall. “Hmmmmm, I dare you to, hmm, play Seven Minutes in Heaven with…” It’s no surprise when the cup-turned-pointer lands on you.

Ice water down your back wouldn’t be as panic inducing. It’s hard to tell who swallows harder, you or Cowboy Bob. Every instinct is telling you to run, but that little voice in the back of your head wins out. As Bob starts to tell you it’s okay, they’re joking, you don’t have to, you grab his thick wrist and give him a nervous smile. You don’t even care what the punishment is for not completing a dare, this stupid drunken game has given you an opportunity.

The dealer of the dare follows the two of you down the hallway, leading the whoops and wolf whistles. Bob’s cheeks flame scarlet in the low light. You keep your chin high and eyes forward. He can definitely feel the way you’re trembling around his wrist.

Whether in anxiety or excitement it’s hard to tell.

The inside of the closet is dark, the faint light under the door casting only the faintest of shadows. Your heart is pounding, blood pulsing through your ears. Bob rubs his lips together nervously. It’s all you can do to not run your tongue along them. 

“We don’t have to do anything, we can just talk.” The way he prioritizes your comfort makes heat pool between your legs. The brim of his hat is as far back as it can go, his eyes tracing the lines of your face as he gauges your emotions. He’s welcome to figure them out, you’re unsure of them yourself. 

His large, warm hand rubs your forearm comfortingly, your skin too cold without his touch. You’re suffocating under his sweat-and-bergamot scent, citrusy and warm.

You bite the bullet. “What if I want to?”

His breath stops. Fingers find yours in the dark, interlocking on either side of your hips. Eyes you know are the deepest blue lock onto your gaze, a million emotions passing behind his irises. Face descending upon the space between you, tentatively showing his intentions. You meet him in the middle, caution out the window.

The kiss is gentle, puzzle pieces slotting together for the first time. He tastes like malt sugar and peppermint. Mouth warm and soft, enveloping you fully in his comfort. It’s even better than what you’ve imagined for the past nine weeks.

Bob begins to pull away, ever the gentleman. Your hand finds his collar, holding him in place. “Not yet, we still have, like, five and a half minutes.”

Despite the low light, his smile lights up the closet.

His lips return to yours in a rush, swallowing your mouth in a passionate heat. The press of his body to yours is delicious. Hands previously at your side meet your hips, lightly squeezing as you moan into his mouth. You reach up and hold the back of his neck, bringing him even closer as your lips toy with the tiniest bit of stubble along his jaw.

“You know,” he starts, holding the moan in the back of his throat. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”

You pull back momentarily, a crinkle upon your brow. “Bob, we didn’t start Stats until January.”

He kisses the confusion from your face, his hands wrapping further around your body. “And you looked very pretty in that green dress at the homecoming barbecue.”

Bless your love of school spirit and free food. “Why didn’t you? Kiss me?”

“I don’t normally make a habit of kissing girls I don’t know. And clearly it takes an entire fraternity for me to get you alone.” The way his chuckle bounces against your skin has you squirming. Your schoolgirl crush on him wasn’t one-sided, and suddenly you’re hot for teacher. 

You capture him in another kiss, tongue searching the seam of his lips for entrance. He obliges immediately, groaning as you explore his taste. Four hands roam skin, finding purchase in anything and everything. Your body has a mind of its own as you press against him, chest heaving with your passion. The right shift of fabric on fabric reveals that he’s equally as affected by the chemistry.

Reluctantly, he pulls away once more, threading his fingers across the back of your neck. Takes a moment to capture his breath as he sees the lust in your eyes. A deep breath. “As much as I like you, I don’t want to do anything if you’re drunk.”

Soft fingers follow the line of his arm to where it wraps around your waist. How is he this impossibly sweet? Thoughtful, respectful, and looking hot as sin with swollen lips. It’s unfair.

“I promise I’m not.” You stroke the back of his hand. “Please kiss me?”

His large hands unwrap from your waist and travel down, shifting behind your legs and pulling you up, resting your back against the wall. You tangle your legs around his waist as best you can in the small space, relishing his firm body pressed deliciously close, warm and solid. Kisses smeared across lips and jaws as noises crescendo. You’re panting as you trail down to his impossibly long neck, desperate to cover it in affection.

You’ve barely explored the expanse of skin when the door flies open, the boisterous party sounds flooding in. Reality strikes like a slap across the face. The truth-or-dare ringleader takes you in - legs wrapped around Bob and hands creeping toward your ass - and whoops in delight. Who knew Cowboy Bob had it in him!

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” He crows and reaches forward to slug Bob lightly on the shoulder. 

Not skipping a beat, Bob shoves his friend back and throws up his middle finger. “Fuck off, Milburn.” 

The closet door slams shut, blanketing you again in the intimacy of the moment. You’re looking at him with unsure eyes and he’s praying the moment hasn’t been ruined. He’s waited seven calendar months for this opportunity and his fingers are so close to enjoying the plump squeeze of your ass.

“We can go back to the party if you want?” Your voice is so small, nervous outside of those bold seven minutes. Tentative breaths exist between you. 

In lieu of an answer, he bows his head to give you a searing yet gentle kiss.

That cramped coat closet suddenly is an inferno, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and groaning at the burning sweetness of your taste. Your hands grip his shoulders as you fight for dominance, fingers tangling in denim. Hips brushing together, still clinging to the idea of this being innocent. 

An innocence immediately lost when Bob strikes up the courage and palms your ass. Soft and pliable and perfect to squeeze in his palms. He remembers the exact day you came to class in the tightest jeans known to man (laundry day) and the way he had dug his pencil in his palm to avoid a semi as your curved ass met the lecture seat. Something unavoidable now as you squirm against him, moaning your pleasure against the pulse in his neck.

Nothing has ever felt as good as rubbing against Bob Floyd’s clothed bulge. One glance down and you’re dizzy with arousal. Rutting yourself against him as best you can with your limited mobility, sloppy kisses exchanged as the two of you can barely keep your mouths closed. It feels so good, too good. 

Lost in the moment, one hand slips below the hem of your skirt, warm skin on skin. Any noise from outside the closet dims to a hum. Two hearts beating rapidly as desire fully consumes, directing lips to too hot exposed skin. You murmur your need in his ear. You don’t care where you are, you need him.

Bob tucks a finger under your thong, feeling the slick coating your folds. The whine that leaves him is desperate and gruff. He groans against your throat. “Shit, I don’t have a condom.”

Undeterred, your lip catches between your teeth, core muscles contracting as you grind your hips forward. “Doesn’t mean I can’t go for a ride.”

He’s immediately on board, teasing you briefly before extricating his hand to support you better against the wall. His hands practically swallow your ass, flooding you with lust. You thrust your chest against him, desperate to touch every spot on his handsome body as your hips begin to grind. 

His hands are sweltering as they trail down, effortlessly clutching the back of your thighs to give you leverage. Your clit finds friction against his jeans and your mouth hangs open as you buck frantically into him.

“Look at you move, cowgirl,” he breathes out, infatuated. The nickname spurrs you on, whimpering against his lips.

One hand clutching his bicep, holding on for desperate life, while the other snakes its way atop the damned cowboy hat that’s stayed on the entire encounter. Gripping the top of it and holding fast as you ride his clothed bulge with everything you’ve got. Denim and lace against your clit, rubbing deliciously as your brain fuzzes. His hot mouth focused at the hinge of your jaw, sucking soft bruises into the skin; moaning when you brush him just right. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his cheek. Time has stood still, but it’s embarrassing how close he’s gotten you to orgasm with just his clothed cock and strong hands. 

He ruts his hips forward, meeting your thrusts in heavenly synchronization. You’re panting as the pressure on your clit catapults you, so close to the ultimate prize. Whispers of you can do it, cowgirl, cum for me, doing so good riding me, just a bit more, cowgirl fizzle your senses. 

“O-oh!”

It’s intense, the blinding pleasure coursing through your body. Prolonged by the thick bulge still rutting against you, ready to burst itself. Lips tickling your ear as he praises you. You want to live in this perfect moment of bliss. A moment only perfected when Bob’s fingers grip too hard and his hips stutter up into yours. His all-consuming orgasm only muffled by the skin of your shoulder as he rides it out. 

The rhythmic slowing of your breaths is all you can focus on. You breathe in, he breathes out. Small smiles and a blush barely visible in the low light. 

Delicately, like he knows you might break, he releases you back to the ground; taking his time to smooth down your skirt and straight out your top. Your own hands reach up to his chest, fixing the fabric that had bunched up in your passion. Adjusting his fogged glasses to look into his beautiful eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much you clean up, one look at you two and anyone would comment you’ve been ridden hard and put away wet.

With one final kiss to your lips, you feel something land on your head. The brown cowboy hat with the rip along the edge. Cowboy Bob showing off his cowgirl.

You tentatively open the closet door, eyes adjusting to the normal light. Painfully aware of the wet splotch on the obvious front of his jeans, Bob holds your body against him as a human shield. The party is still going strong - your antics have not interrupted anything - and you slip toward the front door without notice. Well…mostly, as a few wolf whistles reach your ears.

“It’s not that late, you want to go back to mine? I’m just off Thornton. It’s quiet since everyone is here.” His eyes are so hopeful in the dark night. So desperate for you to say yes. For you to be his cowgirl beyond tonight.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, careful to avoid the spot where your bodily fluids have drenched his jeans. “I’m in.” Your smile is blinding. “We have about nine weeks of Stats to make up.”

The brick is uncomfortable behind your back, but it’s hard to care when his lips feel so good. Broad shoulders shielding you from the hallway, trucker hat turned around and glasses in his pocket so there’s not an inch between your faces. Agreeing to meet outside before lecture was such a good idea.

Despite spending most of the time between Thursday night and Tuesday afternoon in Bob’s apartment trying every position in the book (with teasing hollers from his Pi Kapp roommates adding to the soundtrack) you can’t help but steal these five minutes. He looks so cute, to not kiss him would be a crime.

Bob squeezes your hips, lips trailing down your jaw. “What’s on your mind, cowgirl?”

“I’m trying very hard to convince myself that we pay a lot of money to attend this school and should go learn about statistics. Even though I really only want to head back to my dorm and see how sturdy that loft bed is.”

From where his nose traces your ear, a guttural whine leaves him. “You can’t say something like that and expect me to go to class.”

You pull back to look at him, fingers tickling the close cropped hair at his neck. God, he makes it so hard to want to be responsible.

“Let’s make a deal, okay? We’ll go to class, learn, and tonight you come over and for every study guide question you get right I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Sound good?” He’s practically panting as he smothers your mouth in another kiss. He’s really good at Stats. A steady stream of students files past Bob’s back, a sign that class is about to start.

You press another kiss to his lips. “Let’s go or we’ll miss out on seats. Plus I need to dig through my bag for a pencil.”

“Do you think you actually have one today?” He smirks, amused. The eighteen pencils he’s lent you say otherwise.

Your cheeks are hot under where he kisses them. “Uh…if I don’t can I borrow one? If you have one, that is.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and holds you closer, rubbing your noses softly.

“You do realize I’ve been buying pencils all semester just to give to you, right?”

Turning his cap around - insides fully melted - you know you’re in this rodeo for the long run.

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[oneshot-wxnderland]

Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 3 | Percy Jackson

Summary: Another week, another lab and Y/n and Percy are feeling a different kind of tension this time.

Category: fluff 

Part 1 | Part 2

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          Percy had been kicking himself all week. He had forgotten to ask you for your number before you left his place and now you probably thought he was just some asshole looking for a one-time hookup. And he didn’t want that. And he hoped you didn’t want that either. But he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. 

         It’d been a hot minute since Percy was in any kind of relationship and he wasn’t sure if he was even the relationship kind. Even if he did want to be, his life just didn’t lend itself to dating mortals. There was always some monster popping up that he’d have to fight, or quest he’d have to go on, or emergency at camp he’d have to run off to, and Percy was a shit liar. It’s what messed up the last time he’d tried to date somebody. He was constantly blowing off dates and rain-checking everything because the gods are needy attention seekers. 

          He’d seen superhero movies before and related a lot to when they had similar issues. Percy’s not saying he’s Spiderman or anything, but he does live in New York and save it from constant peril – so yeah, he’s Spiderman. 

          This time, however, he was really considering trying again. Trying with you. And Percy had a plan. 

          Sliding into his seat when there were only a few other people in the room yet, Percy felt pumped up. He woke up early, showered, had a FaceTime with the boys to discuss the game plan, and got to class ahead of you so that he was ready to give you his number the first chance he got before he lost his nerve. That was part of Jason’s advice: offer his number to you instead of asking for yours. He claimed it would make Percy come off more vulnerable and less pushy. Leo mostly just spouted different cheesy lines that Percy would never use. Frank didn’t say much but Hazel piped in every now and then when she took the phone from him. 

          “So, you’re lab partners,” Hazel started. “Do you talk outside of your lab?”

          “No, that’s why I need her number.”

          “But you said you did homework together at your place right? So how’d that go? Did she seem interested?”

          Percy paused. 

          “Yeah, it went... fine.”

          Hazel was blissfully unaware of the blush that was creeping up his neck but Jason didn’t miss it. Or the way he suddenly needed to roll up his sleeves and fiddle with them. 

          “Did you just do the homework?” Jason asked suspiciously. 

          “We uh... kissed...” 

          “Niiiiiicee, Percy!” Leo hollered. “That’s my boy!”

          Frank retook the phone from Hazel and hastily gave an excuse to go before leaving the call and cutting off Hazel’s confused protests.

          “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jason shook his head. “This is way beyond my level now. Piper and Annabeth are nearby I’ll go get them-.”

          “No!” Percy cut him off. That’s the last thing he wanted. The girl’s won’t know or care what to do so they’d ask Piper’s siblings and then the entirety of camp would know. “It doesn’t really change anything. I’m going to give her my number and then the ball’s in her court and I don’t have to worry about it.”

          “But your balls were in her court, weren’t they Percy.” 

          “Leo I am going to kill you when I get back to camp and that is a threat.”

          Leo left the call.

          “I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t do your game-time face because it’ll scare her off,” Jason tried to get the conversation back on track.

          “What face? I don’t have a scary face?” Percy added another item to the list of things to not do when he saw her.

          “Yes you do. It’s when you’re charging into battle but this isn’t battle is it Percy?” 

          “You’re lucky,” Percy lamented while he grabbed his backpack. “You just woke up and were already with Piper. All the hard work done for you.” 

          “You got this man, just be yourself.” 

          Percy decided to throw that particular bit of garbage advice away. 

          Now he was sitting in his seat, got there early, and he was even wearing his nice t-shirt, so what could go wrong.

          As soon as you walked in the door all of his carefully curated bravado deflated inside of him. You walked towards your shared table and he had to expel childish nerves he hadn’t felt in years. He’s in college now, for Hades’ sake. He was a man.

          “Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.

          “Hi.” That was stupid. Men don’t say ‘hi’. He should’ve said ‘hey’ back.

          “You’re here early,” you commented and Percy just nodded like an idiot. 

          The plan was to giver you his number as soon as he saw you, but he couldn’t just blurt that out of nowhere. 

          “How’ve you been?” 

          There. Establishing a conversation and definitely not stalling.

          “I’ve been good.” The small amused smile on your face calmed him down a little. He’s got this.

          Class started before he could slip his number in casually but Percy wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to let geology get in his way.

                    While you were reading the data you had to chart on the graph, you noticed Percy’s usual fidgeting get even worse. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw him concentrating intensely on the paper and trying to contain his frustration. You recognized the signs since one of your friends has dyslexia, but you knew he wouldn’t ask for help.

          “So we have to plot the points on the graph and then draw the elevation lines, right?” You asked casually, looking over to him for confirmation. He nodded his head, but still continued to squint at the numbers which all were very small print and close to each other.

         Muttering the numbers as if to yourself but loud enough for him to hear, you got to work. 

          Percy sat back and smiled a little, knowing what you were doing. He looked over at you, from your furrowed brow to your crossed legs bouncing with your tapping foot. With a contented sigh, he recalled what it felt like to be in between those legs. Having them wrapped around his hips while you moaned his name. 

          His eyes trailed up your body, memories that were attached to each part flooding through him like a highlight reel of his deepest fantasies. Then he got to your bare arms and the goosebumps on the skin shook him out of it.

          “Cold?” he asked, interrupting you trying to help him which he really should have been listening to. 

          “Yeah, a little.” 

          “Here.” Percy shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you before pausing (and slightly panicking.)

          Hold up, is this weird? Am I being weird right now? Should giving her my hoodie come before or after we exchange numbers? I guess doing it before could be a good test of whether she would be interested in exchanging numbers. But this is couple stuff. Her wearing my hoodie. That usually comes after numbers. But she’s cold now and I can’t seem like an asshole withholding warmth unless she accepts or declines my number. 

           Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice his panic as you took the hoodie from him without hesitation and put it on. “Thanks.”

          He calmed down as he watched you roll up the sleeves so that your hands were free to work and he felt a different kind of warmth spread through him. He liked the way you looked in his hoodie. 

          You caught him watching you and it threw you off. This wasn’t the heated gaze that had made you melt before, this was... softer. But the moment was ruined when you glanced down and saw that he hadn’t drawn a single point yet.

          “Hey,” you tapped your pencil on his paper. “Focus.”

          “Sorry.”

          You worked well together for a while. The rhythm of plotting points distracted Percy from his nerves. That is until he felt your hand on his forearm.

          “What’s this?” You asked, finger tracing the SPQR of his tattoo and making him shiver.

          “Oh, it’s a band.” 

          “What band?”

          “The Super Popular... Cool Rockers.”

          “They spell Cool with a Q?”

          “That’s what makes it cool.”

          “Ah.”

          Percy went back to the worksheet, congratulating himself on his quick thinking when he saw you pull out your phone. 

          “What are you doing?” he asked, totally nonchalant. 

          “Looking up the Super Popular Qool Rockers.”

          Percy snatched your phone. 

          “Oh, you won’t find them.” He dodged your attempts to grab it. “They’re really underground.”

          “You’ll be really underground if you don’t give me my phone back.” Percy hastily returned your phone, as if the threat scared him. You tried to glare at him, but found it too hard to suppress your smile once his broke out. “Thank you. Now will you tell me what it really means?”

          “Maybe one day.” People started packing their things and leaving since class had flown by faster than Percy liked. Sensing his window of opportunity closing he decided to Hades with it. “Depends if you go on a date with me.”

          You took your time standing up and gathering your things while pretending to mull it over in your head. Which Percy really did not appreciate. 

          “Maybe one day,” you answered him with a coquettish smile and took a few steps towards the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

          Percy was too concentrated on restraining a fist pump to puzzle out your meaning. 

          “We didn’t get much work done today, so we better finish what we started at your place.” You winked at him and strided out the door.

          With a mischievous grin, Percy was quick to follow. 

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours Pt. 2

Part 1 

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has some of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So Part 2 is that slow burn build up (with possible cute moments?) and part 3 will be the actual SMUTTY goodness. Hopefully this is something cute and fluffy that is enjoyable and helps progress the story a little more so when a full length next part of a bunch of smut comes it all makes sense. Or idk anymore lol I edited this thing four times and I just really hope you all like it  Please enjoy this wordy mess. I wasn’t sure how to properly write it out the end and yeah...I winged it. If it needs to be fixed lmk please!! As always, I hope you all enjoy. Much love, Jenn

P.s. when I wrote this I listened to Lauv’s “I Like Me Better,” and Pink Sweat$ Feat. Kehlani’s “At My Worst,” on repeat like crazy.

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 15,496 (I know:it’s a hefty boy)

Genre: Fluffy/Smutty, slow burn, 

The next day at school you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was going to happen. And sure, maybe you did wake up from a dream replaying that moment in the mud. The ending is a little bit different. This time, dream you didn’t let your chance to kiss him go by. When the opportunity presented itself, and you were both looking at one another like before, you’d leaned forward and kissed him. You weren’t surprised to feel him kissing you back. 

You could still feel the ghost of the imagination of him leaning down to press his lips against yours. The way he leaned in; eyes soft with longing as his body leaned deeper in against you. The weight of him pressing you into the mud until you were sure an imprint of this moment would be there forever. This imaginary kiss you’d shared was sweet, chaste, and everything you could’ve hoped for. Deepening at the last second as your alarm blared you back into realty. 

It made you want to ring your hands through your hair in frustration. 

Your whole walk to school was nothing but foggy images of the dream on repeat. A mixture of yesterday’s events accompanied them with each frame until you weren’t sure which was the actual moments or what your head had created. I mean, you did know he didn’t kiss you, but...the look in his eyes. Maybe Jungkook hadn’t, but there was that moment you swore maybe he felt the painful comedic romance moment of it all too. 

All these unanswered what if’s you'd created had built an impossible chasm that seemed to stretch infinitely wider between you in your head. In the end, you were your own bully as your mind stayed up until three that morning playing out every scenario you could think of. Even the ones that ended with you probably reading everything wrong, because what did you know about body language? Or, more specifically, boys built like Jeon Jungkook.

It didn’t matter that you had two tests today and never finished your homework for home period, but what the hell. Nothing like hopelessly daydreaming about the boy who may or may not have flirted with you and harmonized along to songs with a hidden voice of an angel, am I right? And sure, a large part of your night was  spent chastising yourself half the time to remind you there was no way in hell Jungkook could feel that way towards you. Even just a little. Your inner monologue of bringing yourself back down to earth, another culprit in the growing list of reasons why none of your assignments were completed. 

What can you say? You were a mess.

Your only game plan you’d been able to agree on was just to daydream out the window. Writing out your own hapless love story starring the boy who sat across from you in the home room. With a silent plea to the universe that you weren’t called on to answer any questions. 

Your arrival at homeroom was met with barely seconds to spare. The bell rang behind you, and a few other students, as you rushed towards your desk. 

“Hurry, hurry to your seats! Or I’ll write you up as late!”

Mr. Choi was all talk. Everyone knew it and his excessive arm movements to rush every body that passed his desk made him look exactly like a conductor. His crazy movements were enough to distract you for a split second from the one person you were desperate to ignore. 

“Good morning, class. I hope you are all fully rested and awake for class this morning. Let’s have us open our books to page two hundred and forty-two and continue on with our lesson.” 

In unison the sound of backpacks unzipping with students reaching in their backpacks to bring out textbooks filled the class. The only person who didn’t currently have said book was holding his hand up, and seated directly across from you. 

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“Seonsaengnim, I’m sorry. I haven’t received my textbooks yet.”

“Ah, that’s alright, Jungkook. You can go ahead and share with Y/N, again.”

You hoped your face wasn’t giving away the panic you felt rising up to match the blush that was streaking across your cheeks. Jungkook’s hand was already on the leg of your desk. His fingers tips grazing across your knee in passing as his hand wrapped around the bar and used it to bring you closer to him. You kept your eyes glued to page two hundred and forty-three and refused to look in his direction. Jungkook seemed to find a way to remedy this; his hand came into view and grabbed hold of the book corner and slid it over to his side. And as if he was the world’s greatest magician, he now had your attention. 

Your eyes immediately shoot up to acknowledge his presence, instead of staying on the book. You knew that devilish smirk of his would be there to greet you even before you actually saw it. 

“Well, good morning to you too, Y/N.”

His voice practically hummed a tune as he spoke. His eyes heavily searched your face, and you prayed whatever he found wasn’t any lasting signs of rosy cheeks. 

“Good morning, Jungkook. I hope you slept well.”

“I slept very well, thank you.”

“That’s good-“

He cut you off fast, his next words a hush of teasing: “Even though some crazy girl tried to smother me in mud yesterday.” 

Your world narrowed in on his smug position in his chair, but quickly realized he just wanted your attention. The smile he wore softened around the edges as his eyes tried to look away from you and yet found their way back. You did your best to hide your smile and must have failed miserably for his face noticeably brightened. 

“I’m sure if that’s what she was doing - which I doubt - you probably deserved it.” 

Jungkook pretended to be wounded and caused you to practically jump out of your seat when his free hand landed on top of yours. 

“I can’t believe you think I deserve to be smothered,” he pouted. 

You rolled your eyes in a weak attempt to look away from him. Anything to not be swallowed up by how stupidly cute he looked in this exact moment. The fingers that held your pencil lazily tapping on the pages of the math book to bring his focus to something else that wasn’t you. 

“We need to pay attention.”

It was the only valuable excuse you could come up with to look away from him. But who were you kidding? You didn’t have to be looking in Jungkook’s direction to be painfully aware that he was there. His own gaze burned straight through you and left a trail of heat everywhere his eyes seemed to land. 

Right now, you were aware they were on your lips and stirring every emotion from your dream you tried to suppress. Plus, you weren’t being cute. Unless Jungkook found the sight of you chewing your bottom lip into dust attractive. 

It was a terrible nervous habit that seemed to only backfire right this second. You were sure he was ready to make a comment on it. You waited patiently for it to come in between you mindlessly copying equations off the board and the sea of arms flying up to answer whatever it was you’d just written. My gosh, you were trying so damn hard to not pay attention that you were doing nothing but paying attention to him. 

Please don’t let him just see I’m doodling. 

Mr. Choi was in the middle of showing how to work out a long equation when you decided it was safe to give Jungkook a glance. It was instantaneous how quickly you regretted it. 

You jumped back against your seat in a weak attempt to recover some space. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d missed it -missed him- getting so close, but you had. Jungkook’s face was mere inches from yours and it took everything to not show him you weren’t at all bothered. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered fiercely. “What.are.you.doing!”

Jungkook ignored your question. His eyes squinting as they looked around the side of your head. The gesture made you increasingly subconscious until you couldn’t keep your hand from going up to brush alongside it. 

“What? What is it?”

You were expecting the worst. 

“I think I see some mud still stuck inside your ear.”

And like magic your earlier blush reappeared. Your tongue rolled against the bottom of your teeth in a weak attempt to keep yourself from smiling. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to stop it as the urge to give in tugged mercilessly at your lips. The playful glint in his eyes was enough to keep the panic of how incredibly close he still was. Your eyes hopelessly glancing at the pair of lips that plagued your dreams. 

Jungkook noticed. 

And how did you know this, you might ask? 

Jungkook gave it away by the dramatic way his lower lip was drawn in by his teeth. Every movement he made sure was exaggerated and stupidly slow. His eyes watch for your reaction. He didn’t have to wait long; your eyes were glued to them long before his teeth joined the equation. You should’ve felt more embarrassed at your own blunt display - or maybe at his -but, god help you, you weren’t. 

You tore your gaze away from him and did your best to pretend whatever part of the lesson you’d missed was interesting. The dirt on your shoes could’ve been more interesting at this moment; anything to keep you from looking back at him. 

“I rinsed my hair three times in the shower. Thank you very much.” 

“Did you think of me while you were washing yourself clean?”

If what Jungkook was after was seeing your face light up brighter than a tomato he’d succeeded. Your cheeks instantly flushed and felt scolding hot. The only line of defense you could think of to fight the devilish look in his eyes was to give him a smack on his arm. The motion only caused his sinister smile to turn into a full blown grin; a bark of laughter leaving him seconds later. 

Jungkook chuckled out an, “Ouch!” His body leaning back, faux wounded, and rays of sunshine pouring out of him in waves. 

“I meant when you were getting the mud out of your hair.” His voice carried the singing sweetness of his laughter; airy and light. This boy who you did think of in the shower. All hard edges and softness; sour and sweet. Your very own sour patch kid. “I mean, I thought of you when I tried scrubbing it out from behind my ears.”

Your heart gave a brief jump at his omission. What you wished you would’ve focused on was the fact he’d admitted to thinking of you...in his own shower. But nope! Instead, your mind appeared to focus more on the fact it was while he scrubbed at his ears. 

“I scrubbed my ears too.”

Oh. My. God, you inwardly cringed. 

Is that really what your magical brain decided to say in return? Jungkook leaned back in, eyes inspecting not just your ear, but your entire space. Recklessly moving in dangerously close, and your heart was ready to beg for mercy. Whether to completely close the space between you or to stop teasing, of which you weren’t sure. 

“It appears you didn’t do that good of a job,” he huffed.

A gurgled scream flew into your throat; the sound was utterly ridiculous and Jungkook ate it up. His head flew back in laughter as your hand moved to swat at him again. 

The disruption turned the attention of your teacher directly to the two of you, and Mr. Choi was quick to address it. 

“Jean Jungkook! Y/L/N, Y/N!”

The both of you rose from your seats in unison. Jungkook’s rise the definition of graceful, while yours in comparison was met with anxiety and your knees colliding with your desk. Your small “Oomph,” of pain sending him into a fit of giggles beside you. The hand you sent in to pinch at his leg only sent him into another fit. 

“Y/N!”

Stupid, stupid! Of course he would see.

“Seonsaengnim!”

To appease him, you felt your body respond in a ninety-degree salute. Your face keeping down to stare at your shoes and praying you weren’t about to be sent out of the room. 

“Would you mind explaining what Jungkook and you found so interesting that the two of you felt like you didn’t need to be a part of class.”

God, it wasn’t a question. He really wanted you to tell him, and what could you say? 

“Oh, he was just asking me if I was in the shower...thinking of him. And he was thinking of me too!”

Which wasn't a lie. Maybe it wasn’t as dirty as he might have intended, but it was enough to make your cheeks flush to life with their usual color these days. Your mind was still racing with an appropriate answer for Mr. Choi. You were taking so long you were ready to blurt out anything he might want to hear. 

“Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook gave a respectful bow and lifted his head. His full attention now resting on the impatiently waiting man at the front of the class. “We were discussing the fact that you, respectfully, have written the equation wrong on the board.” 

The entire class seized up. A collective air was taken at Jungkook’s bold attempt to correct him. It was awkwardly obvious that he wasn’t happy at the idea of being corrected. However, Jungkook remained unfazed and waited for the right time to speak. 

“Is that so?” He snapped. “If it is so wrong, Jeon, then please, come and fix it for me.”

You were sure his order for Jungkook to go to the front would make him back down . No one enjoyed doing class work on the board up front for all to see. But you’d forgotten Jungkook wasn’t like everyone else. He kept his head high and moved to grab his cane; his hand wrapping tightly to its handle. Jungkook stepped out from inside his desk and let his feet carry him forward. He walked with a noticeable lack of a limp and you were willing to bet that strike of pride was costing him. 

It wasn’t that you couldn’t believe that Jungkook was able to walk without it. It was just that your memory forced you to recall the pain he was in during the field trip. The flashes of frustration as his eyes threatened to spill over with tears. 

Jungkook came to stand beside Mr. Choi. His hand reaching out to take the marker that the older man had held out waiting for him to prove his equation wrong. He plucked it from the older man’s hand and moved the last few inches to stand in front of the board. His eyes scanning the problem quickly. Your breath held tight in your chest as you watched him get permission to grab the eraser. The class transfixed on his every movement.

You wondered how many of the girls in your class focused on him like you were. The same way your eyes ate up every simple movement he made. The notable flex of his back while he stretched to erase the middle and last part of what Mr. Choi had written out. 

“You had a good start here, Seonsaengnim.” Jungkook paused to stretch out his hand. Fingers marking underneath the start of the problem. “But you didn’t multiply these after they were divided, and because of this the middle became wrong. With your core of the problem being wrong the solution was never able to end in its final conclusion.”

With every word, Jungkook’s voice became more self-assured. His presence enveloping the room and demanding the attention he’d already received without question. Mr. Choi watched on with his arms crossed; index finger hugging his mouth in concentration as he watched Jungkook work. From the back of the class, you could see students writing down the new formula. Some of them realized the obvious error Mr. Choi had made. 

Jungkook looked at the problem over again on repeat. If it’d been you, you would have left it where it was knowing you’d done what no one else did. But Jungkook wanted to know, for himself, that it was correct. 

Finally, he stepped back from the whiteboard and handed the marker back to Mr. Choi. Who looked measurably impressed with him. His index finger he’d used for thinking now covered up a timid smile before he dropped it to grab a hold of the marker. 

“Go ahead and have a seat, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gave him a passing bow as he made his way back towards the back of the class. Back to you. It took everything you had not to notice how everyone’s view of him seemed to change. Even the honor students; the ones bound for scholarship glory to prestigious colleges now seemed to take new interest in him. 

You’d heard stories about Jungkook, like everyone else did. The Boy Wonder. The boy who seemed unfairly good at everything. Before you’d ever met him, a part of you believed there wasn’t a way the universe would seriously do that. And yet, as he moved to sit back down beside you, you suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of being below average. Your subconscious rose up to stop whatever sunlight you’d felt at his earlier words, and crushed it until it began to dim. All but snuffing it out. 

Jungkook fell back into the seat at his desk riding the high of confidence he’d gained from proving he’d know how to fix the answer. Not just know it; teach it. The air around him completely changed. He was the sun and the rest of you were becoming helplessly lost in his orbit. From the backwards glances of the others around you, you were pretty sure they weren’t going to mind one bit. 

Either Jungkook was honestly oblivious to all the attention or he just didn’t care. He practically beamed as he leaned himself closer to you completely unaware at how breathless he made you. That smile you’d admired during your field trip showed itself beaming and bright. He was so damn pleased with himself his eyes sparked with joy and you wish you could’ve pouted. Maybe found the strength not to care or to wonder if he could see how he affected you. 

You wanted to pout and be in your own bubble, damn it. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”

Us. 

Those butterflies you’d sworn to yourself you were not feeling towards him began to come to life. Or were they butterflies? You weren’t sure what to call the feeling Jungkook gave you. 

Sure, Jungkook made your heart thunder in your chest like a caged animal. And yea, maybe you swore to yourself there was an attraction there that you couldn’t explain, but that was just your dopamine talking. That didn’t mean the two of you were soulmates or the universe decided to bring you both together by a mess of unseen choices. 

But...when Jungkook looked at you this way it was hard to tell your thundering heart anything else. 

The two of you continued to look at one another. A heartbeat of time passing between you with Jungkook waiting for your reply. You watched the edges of his smile start to wilt as realization set in that you weren’t planning to  reply. No smile or teasing remark was headed his way, and just as fast as he noticed it, determination swiftly replaced the light weighted joy he’d shown moments earlier. 

“Hey, you don’t have to worry. I’m positive he will leave us alone the rest of the class. I promise.”

God, why did he have to make things so difficult? When Jungkook spoke the words, “I promise,” they’d been so earnest. He meant them. Here he was trying to turn the tables and be your knight, instead of you being his. It would have worked, but what he didn’t know was that you weren’t worried about Mr. Choi. Not really. 

No one could tear you down further than you were able to do to yourself. 

He was still waiting for the answer that you would never give. You turned to face forward in your chair and tried to forget the ripple of sadness that moved over his face. The cost of your stubbornness suddenly felt too high. No matter how it made you feel though, you refused to look over in his direction. 

An awkward chasm had built between the two of you. Mostly, well, obviously it was all because of you. You figured Jungkook would eventually stop looking at you. You prayed he would stop. Every time he did it your body became painfully aware of his gaze, and the longing it held for you to acknowledge him. And every time you remained facing front. You no longer could pretend to focus, however, and that seemed to be all the signs Jungkook needed to know you were in some way paying attention.

Your notebook that’d been left unattended on the desk became his private art museum. The doodles started off silly and slowly morphed into small faces and objects that held impressive detail. You tried your best to ignore it; his arm practically took up most of the space on your desk. The angle forced him to shoulder into your space to the point that if you did finally turn to look at him you’d run inches away from his cheek. 

You were doing your best to pay attention to whatever your teacher was doing at the front. Your eyes watched as a wave of hands went up to answer questions you’d never heard. Yours kept sliding back down to the latest doodle he was making. The latest one he was working on had forced Jungkook to move further inland on your notepad. His forearm getting dangerously close to having to rest in your lap. 

It continued like this the remainder of class. For all the effort you’d put in the last half hour of pretending he wasn’t there, Jungkook shattered it within seconds. 

He’d repositioned himself with each new doodle he started. His shoulder wedged itself against yours and his forearm had completely taken up what little space was left on your desk. You were trying very hard to not pay attention to how said forearm was dangerously close to your chest. There was no hiding the redness of your cheeks. 

Without thinking, you whipped your head to look at him and almost yelled. You knew he was close, but nothing prepared you for this.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, voice incredulous. 

Jungkook turned to look at you and...was he pouting? His eyes played up on the childish quality as he turned to you and batted his eyes.

“Can I help you?”

“Ugh, can I help you? Do you need paper or something?”

“I have paper right here. Thanks.”

Jungkook patted the notepad with the end of his pen. Satisfied with his answer he turned his attention back to his latest artistic endeavor. 

“You know this is my desk. Right?”

“I like to think of it more like our desk. Sharing a space like we shared music.”

“Ya, Jungkook. You realize you blackmailed me into using my ipod.”

Jungkook feigned shock. His mouth dropping open and his eyes brows going too high up into his hairline. The entire scene was exaggerated and ridiculous. The scene forced you to roll your lips against your teeth to keep from smiling. The effort it took to hide your grin wasn’t unnoticed by Jungkook, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’d been his goal all along. 

“Blackmail sounds so crass. I like to think of it as bargaining.”

“So we agree it’s called blackmail, then.” 

The theatrics of his face dropped into a serious stare that left his face completely blank. Void of all emotion except the annoyance that drew a heavy frown from his face. It was stupidly cute and this time you did allow yourself to smile. Your fingers reached out to grab one of his puffed out cheeks and gave it a sweet pinch, like a grandmother, and cooed in his direction. 

“Oooooh Jungkookie, don’t frown. We’ve all gotta be wrong sometimes.” 

He playfully nipped at your hand to make you snatch it away. It took everything in you not to make a sound at his sudden movement. Your mouth hung open in an awkward smile-shout as you brought your handle against your chest. 

“I think you’re misinterpreting the facts here. Maybe you hit your head on a small pebble or something when you fell in the mud.”

“You mean when you pulled me in.”

He shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “I don’t think I recall any force being used yesterday. You just fell on my chest trying to take advantage of me in my time of need.”

Now it was your turn to look deadpanned in his direction. Jungkook didn’t try to hide his wicked smile, however, and the cage of butterflies that were housed in your gut were released all over again. 

“Your appa must be a lawyer. It’d explain why you’re so good at bullshitting.”

“CEO, actually. But I would say you’re close. They are also full of shit.” 

You weren’t sure what to say to this omission about his father. Underneath the sarcasm felt like a heavy chasm that spoke of the death of a relationship. Your curiosity threatened to get the best of you, but you decided to just throw it away. Filing it away inside a little folder you’d made for little known facts about him. 

The bell rang and the mass of bodies in class all began to rise from their seats. All of them eager to rush from the classroom and do whatever plans they’d made to enjoy their little bit of freedom. You were reaching for your bookbag when Jungkook’s hand was just there. A part of you worried he’d decided to play a game of keep away, or something that fit his playful mood, Instead, he placed it down on the desk. 

“Oh, thank you, Jungkook.”

God. Why were you staring? Why was he staring?

The room was still filled with the small display of chaotic teenage energy. Most of them had already filed out of the classroom, while some were still putting things away. Honor students were arguing with the teacher about markings he’d left on papers. Small groups of friends chatting happily as they moved in tight clusters through the door. So much was going on around you, and yet the only person you were aware of was him. 

“You’re welcome. Have a good lunch, Y/N.”

The playful air that’d been around him had completely disappeared. This boy who stood before you now was more reminiscent of when you’d first met than the boy you’d grown to like. What had made him grow so distant?

“You too, Kookie.”

It slipped out. You couldn’t stop yourself. He’d already started to walk away in his retreat. As soon as his pet name you’d given him hit his ears he completely stopped moving. His head whipped around to glance at you with that devilish grin raised high on his cheeks. 

“Kookie? Are you calling me a snack?”

If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider, they would’ve left your skull. The embarrassment was hot on your cheeks and you knew Jungkook would tease you without mercy for the slip up. By the look in his eyes you could tell he was never going to let this go. Not ever. He would be too happy to remind you of this until the day you died. Or until graduation. Whichever came first.

This time you scooped up your bookbag and snatched your book off the desk clutching them to your chest. In your haste to grab them and go, your knee collided with the edge of the desk, but you’d worry about that possible bruise later. You just needed to flee before Jungkook got any closer. 

“No, no. It was an accident.”

“You called me a snack by accident?”

You were backing up towards the safety of the open hallway. Your shoulders shrugging too high and your laugh too high-pitched in your attempt to play it cool.

“No snack nicknames here. It was just a slip of the tongue. I must just be hungry, ya know.”

“Are you hungry for me?”

Oh, he was intolerable sometimes. It didn’t matter how flustered he made you. A part of you knew his endless teasing was growing on you. You liked it, and the sane part of you wondered if you’d gone crazy. 

“Ya, Jungkook-”

“I think you mean, Kookie,” he cut in. 

Jungkook held a single finger up to silence you. He’d stopped moving towards you and let out a laugh as you tried to swat his hand down. He looked so much happier than he did moments ago. That alone made his teasing at your expense worth it. 

“No I mean, Jungkook. It’s the name your parents gave you.” You stated, proud that your voice sounded more stable than you felt. “I’m gonna go eat my lunch now. You should do the same and I’ll...see you later.”

You waited for him to argue. To continue to make comments in passing to keep your face rosy and flushed. He surprised you by just standing there in silence. His smile wide on his face and eyes looking at you like you’d held the moon. A look you weren’t used to and made you unsure how to respond. 

You started to walk back towards the door and found yourself disappointed when he didn’t follow. You sent him an awkward wave as your arms still held onto your things from your desk. Jungkook showed his amusement by giving you a wave in return.

“See you later, Y/N.”

At his words you turned on your heel and headed out towards the courtyard. No longer eager to eat your lunch that you’d packed. Your mind replayed his words and knew, without a doubt, he would keep his word.

—————-

Lunch went by as quickly as it came. Instead of eating your lunch with friends, you’d opted for sulking in the auditorium. Absentmindedly taking small bits off your food as you considered what had happened between Jungkook and you. 

There was flirting there. You may be a little delusional, but you weren’t delusional about this. It was obvious to anyone who witnessed it and yet you tried to deny its existence at every turn.  Of course, you knew why. 

It just didn’t make logical sense. You were two opposites that shouldn’t be in the least bit interested in the other. Well, that didn’t really seem correct when it came to Jungkook. He was attractive to everyone and probably even inanimate objects. But you...you just couldn’t see yourself that way. You’d only ever had one relationship in your life and it had been short-lived and in the third grade. 

Throwing what little was left of your sandwich back inside it’s little brown coffin, you removed yourself from your spot. A huff left you as you reached out to pick up your mess and started to hop back down the steps one-by-one. 

You weren’t sure what walking around was going to do. For the hundredth time since this day started, you were lost in your own head. The only thing you knew for certain was that you’d hoped to run into him again. A thought came to you that maybe, just this day, he’d shown up in the school's cafeteria. 

You could think of a million excuses for why you’d need to go into the cafeteria and it wouldn’t be weird. Just the thought of not coming off weird, while most certainly being weird, made you beam at your own creativity. 

You’d reached the last step and we’re crossing the field when you noticed, on the other side, the very boy you were looking for. He was alone and sitting under the shade of the only tree next to the amphitheater. His back against the bark and a knee drawn up to give his notepad a place to perch. Whatever he was writing, drawing, or formulating held his interest and refused to let him look up. 

All your previous bravado deflated in a second. It would be harder to deny you weren’t actively seeking him out if you went to him now. But, who said that you wanted too? 

Grabbing the strap of your book bag tight, you started back on your mission. Your legs made quick work across the field. It wasn’t until there was only a few feet left between you that he looked up. His brow still furrowed in tight creases of concentration as he decided if you were a friend or foe. Your feet almost tripped over themselves when he smiled at you. 

“Y/N!” He called happily. “What brings you over here?”

“I came looking for my snack.”

The surprise on his face made your bold choice of a response worth it. Jungkook, being who he was, quickly recovered and set his notebook and pencil down beside him. He placed his arms casually on his propped up leg and leaned forward as if he was about to tell you a secret. 

“Well, you found me. Why did you come looking for me? Really.”

You tried to think quickly of what to say. The idea of telling him the truth, that you’d just wanted to see him, felt painfully honest and might press him to ask for you to explain. How could you explain that in the short time you’d met him he was both the most interesting and infuriating man you’d ever met. But he was also the most beautiful, and had a delicate softness under his hard exterior that you were growing to love. He was basically the perfect description of the onion from Shrek. 

An idea clicked in your head and your hands quickly moved inside your bag and produced another brown bag. 

“I wanted to come see if you’d eaten. I had some spare kimchi rice ball’s my omma made.”

You extended the bag out to him. Your eyes locked together as you waited for him to either accept it or deny it. Jungkook surprised you by leaning forward and taking it gently from you. It took some effort, but he crossed his legs -his bad one in an awkward position - and plopped the bag down between his legs. 

You moved to sit beside him in the grass and took your book bag off your shoulder and into your lap. You watched as he moved to open the bag and peered cautiously inside. 

“It’s not a bomb,” you chided. 

“I never know with you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile spreading like wildfire across your lips. Jungkook was so charismatic it felt inevitable and fighting against it was futile. He took a large bite of the rice ball and practically swooned. His eyes had fallen shut and a ridiculous chanting of endless “Mhm’s” had started rising up around you. 

“Should I leave you two alone?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and for a moment you were worried maybe you did pull him out of some weird food ritual. His eyes were blank and then, all at once, he was back to being his usual animated self. The hand that held the rice ball shaking in your direction before shoving what was left inside his mouth. 

“This is unbelievably delicious.” He mumbled around his food. “You said your omma made these?”

“Yup!”

You’d said it in English just to dramatically pop the P at the end. Extending out your own kind of dramatics to match Jungkook’s. You leaned your hands back into the grass and noticed Jungkook watch your every move as you did. 

“Is your omma married?”

Your face fell into a deadpan stare as you replied, “Seriously? Of course her and my appa are still married, you creep.”

“If you can cook like your omma, Y/N I’m willing to lend you my amazing tutoring services. All for the low price of making things as delicious as this.”

He was already mid-way through shoving the second rice ball in his mouth. His head tilted back to drop it down. A piece of rice must have dislodged itself from its balled shape, because he erupted in a coughing fit. You couldn’t help but laugh as you handed him your water. 

“I think I’ll steer clear of rice treats. Just to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

Jungkook was about to lift the bottle up to his lips and stopped. His eyes falling on you with a playful glare. You held your hands up in mock surrender as you leaned forward. Your hands clap together to get pieces of grass and soil from your hands. 

While he drank the water you’d offered up the two of you fell into companionable silence. You didn’t mind waiting and Jungkook was happy that you did. When he’d finished with the bottle, he set it down beside him. His hand moving like a flopping fish in your direction to make you give him something that you’d had no idea he’d asked for. 

“Come on. Let’s see your math homework.” 

“For what?”

“To start your tutoring. Duh.”

You hated how cute he’d made the word sound. The way his lips smiled around it and left him beaming at you like a little kid on Christmas. 

“Can we pass? We just left the class and I hate math. A lot.”

Jungkook tsked you but didn’t look disappointed. 

“You can’t get better at something if you give up on it. Luckily for you, you’ve got the best person in the subject to tutor you.”

“For a fee,” you pointed out. 

“All the best things come with a price. I’m most definitely one of them. Now. Book.”

His hand movements were more controlled now. His fingers simply waved once -twice- for you to hurry it up and place what he’d asked in his hand. You really didn’t want any part of this. The thought was sweet, but when you said you hated math you meant it. So yeah, maybe you were grumbling a little as you reached inside your book bag and taking a little longer than was necessary to hand it over. 

Jungkook took it from you in one smooth motion and had it open to the spot previously in class. All your homework problems you’d left unfinished glaring against the white of the page. His eyes were already scanning over what little problems you’d written down. A clicking noise from his closed mouth reminding you why exactly you hadn’t finished more of it. The reason was sitting right in front of you. 

His hand flicked back out and he held it open. His eyes never lifted off the page as he demanded, “Pencil.”

“What the heck? Why am I supplying everything.”

“Cause I’m supplying myself,” he shot back. His hands taking the pencil you handed over to him. “Plus, I also can’t seem to find any in my bag.” 

“You didn’t even look.”

Jungkook gave a graceful shrug. His attention was fully engrossed in the problems. You weren’t ready for how cute he looked. How adorable those concentration creases in his forehead made him look, even deadly serious, with his fingers tapping the pencil absentmindedly on the paper. When he figured out what was missing from the equation he quickly erased and reconfigured everything on the page. 

You were staring intently at him, both because his angle’s were ridiculously handsome but also, the way the sun fell down on him here, peaking through the trees, felt like magic. It was hard to believe the universe was more than just molecules and that luck was thrown out randomly. If it was, maybe you’d caught some. 

Your thoughts were running wild and your concentration was no longer in the safe zone. Maybe that’s why when he finally looked up from the notebook and found you staring he’d smiled. Not his teasing one. Or the condescending either. This smile was soft like a secret, and directed only at you. \

“See something you like?”

His voice was gentle in his playfulness. As if he wanted to take the cautionary approach in case you were spooked. 

“Maybe I do.”

A smile of your own spread to match his and Jungkook wasn’t surprised. He was just happy, and it was a lovely sight to see. He looked away from you with his hand moving up to smooth out the hair on the back of his neck. He flicked the pencil down on the notebook and brought it forward for you to see. 

“Let’s get back to this. I’ll be honest with you. It’s pretty bad. You missed a whole line on the third problem that left you with an incomplete answer. Not to mention,” he lifted up the notebook and motioned towards the whole page, “Where is all the rest of the homework?”

Jungkook’s voice was filled with the beginnings of laughter. Not specifically towards you, but just the blatant fact you did not care. You gave him your best nonchalant shrug. In reality, you did care. It bothered you it wasn’t finished. 

Your fingers were digging in the grass and ripping some of it up and throwing it out into the field. 

“I had a hard time concentrating last night. Plus, if I’m being honest math has always been the hardest subject for me.”

“And that is why I’m going to help you.”

“For a fee,” you reminded him. 

“I’ll teach you the easiest way I know how to do these and I promise you, you’ll be flying through these problems in no time.”

The sincerity in his voice was evident. Jungkook really believed it and he wanted you to believe it too. You just couldn’t understand why and you found yourself speaking your mind. 

“Why are you wanting to help me?”

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. His face went blank as he looked at you one last time before he looked away. Whatever he was looking at he wasn’t really seeing. He just needed someplace else to look than the person he was talking to you. You did it plenty of times yourself. 

Whatever he’d decided on to say had caused his shoulders to square. Determined that whatever he needed to say he would make sure it meant something. 

“I like spending time with you.”

The smile you’d worn completely shattered as you stared at him. The butterflies rushed up and up until they trapped themselves in your throat. Jungkook’s admission was basically three words dropped away from just saying he liked you. 

This surprising admission should’ve been enough to make yourself not care who you saw walking. Or care when he stopped, his small mob with him, and start gesturing at his imaginary watch. His fingers rubbing together for money owed. 

It was worse when Jungkook looked back and took notice. Even worse when he looked back at you with questions swirling in his eyes. 

“Everything okay?”

Your eyes looked down to the safety of your hands. The way they were helplessly fidgeting back in the grass and tearing it apart like a miniature tantrum was brewing inside you. You hated that after all this time, you let Lee Kwon upset you by making you feel embarrassed about your dad. That he felt the need to tell everyone the business deal between his father and yours. How every time he told it he’d turned him more and more into a villain of his own misfortune. 

Without a reason why you took back your notebook from Jungkook and shoved it inside your bag. You were ready to leave. You didn’t want to explain, but you knew Jungkook wouldn’t let you just leave without one. 

He reached out and his hand gently wrapped around your wrist to stop you. There was no force. Nothing that hinted that he would keep you there if you didn’t want to be kept. Looking at him felt harder. His genuine worry almost threatened to let the tears from your frustration spill forward. 

“Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Your vision dragging away from him and back to the retreating back of the sociopath, Lee Kwon. 

You didn’t try to shake him off. You actually felt comforted by his worrisome touch. The way he leaned in closer as if he would pull you into his arms at any moment. As much as you wanted that to happen, you knew it wouldn’t happen. A deep sigh had built up in your chest and you released it while you looked back at him. 

“Look. Eventually, I know you’re going to hear about it: my dad, I mean.”

“That’s kind of odd high school kids would talk about someone’s appa.”

“You and me both,” you agreed. “But Kwon’s dad is a banker who doesn’t believe in client confidentiality. So he tells his son about his day over dinner and-“

“And he decides to bring it to school to make your life miserable,” Jungkook finished for you. 

He understood and didn’t need you to simplify it anymore. His hand left your arm and you suddenly found yourself missing his comforting touch. It was still there, that comfort, in the way his eyes softened and he leaned in intent to listen to whatever you needed to get off your chest. You appreciated his attention, but also hated it at the same time. 

“What’s your Appa’s thing?”

God. He did understand. Maybe just a little too well for your liking. 

“Gambling. It started when I was in the seventh grade. At first it wasn’t anything too crazy. He’d always been able to even it out. But then he became obsessed with the idea of winning big. Kept betting on things we couldn’t afford to lose. Eventually, he bet too high and ended up losing the business he and my mom built together and our house. They had to pay the bank back.”

“A bank this dude’s Appa works at.”

“Correct. My Appa...he isn’t a bad man. He’s paid his debt and hasn’t gambled since. What good is it for me or anyone else to make him feel bad for the rest of his life?”

“I don’t get it. Why does that have to do with you, though?”

You’d wondered the same exact thing half of your adolescent life. You shrugged and looked at Jungkook wondering if maybe he’d be able to make sense of it better than you could. 

“Twelve year old boys enjoy making up stories. First it was that we became so poor we lived with pigs. That's why I smelled.”

You put air quotations around smelled and Jungkook practically howled with laughter. You tried your best to show no emotion, but could feel the corner of your lips threatening to curl into a smile. 

“He probably said it because you didn’t know how to wash back then and, judging from earlier, I still don’t think you do.”

You moved to playfully shove at his shoulder. A scoff of laughter leaving you even though you told yourself you wouldn’t. Jungkook was waiting for you to make a move and when you did he easily grabbed a hold of you. The feeling of intimacy, just like yesterday in the mud, was swimming back to the surface. 

Your eyes looked up into his with your laughter being met with a wide grin. The way he was looking at you now made you believe in fairytales and left your lips aching to be kissed. 

Before either of you could decide what to do next, the bell for the end of lunch sounded. You could hear it going off all around you, but still the two of you stayed holding each other. Your bodies close enough that if he wanted to make a move all Jungkook needed was to lean down. To say your heart dropped a little when he moved away was an understatement. 

You focused on getting up from the grass. Your hands patting down your uniform as you struggle to find something not so awkward to say. You wanted to sound confident. You wanted to sound like you weren’t affected by him at all. 

“Well, I’ll see you around.”

God, you sounded awkward. You turned to start heading to your next period. You closed your eyes tight and mouthed, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You’d gotten a few feet away when you heard him call to you. 

You turned to look back at him and found him still standing under the tree. His hands in his pockets and his eyes solely on you. 

“Would you let me walk you home?”

Did he really have to ask? You’d let him walk you to the edge of a volcano. You didn’t say that, however. You wanted to play it cool, but on the inside you were screaming. 

“I’d like that.”

When you turned back around to make your way to class, the memory of how his face had brightened at your reply, stayed with you. You couldn’t wait for the day to end. 

_________

True to his word Jungkook waited for you after school. You couldn’t help looking for him over the countless shoulders as you walked with the sea of students towards the entrance. The hole in the pit of your stomach opened back up from the underlying dreadful thought. That he wouldn't show up. You’d be left standing there waiting for him forever. But Jungkook continued to prove your pessimism wrong. 

The closer you got to the school’s gate, you were able to spot him instantly. He was leaning coolly against the gate. His bag at his feet and his cane positioned strategically out of view. If anyone just casually walked up, they would’ve never been able to tell he’d needed one. Maybe that was why he’d done it. 

He looked to be searching for someone in every face that passed him. It came to an end the minute his roaming eyes found you. No longer did he appear cool and composed. His body became animated with what you could only explain as a giddiness at your oncoming presence.

By the time you reached him, Jungkook was wearing his backpack on his shoulder and his cane in his hand. He was standing and waiting for you. The happiness at being next to you was intoxicating and you could only hope you looked the same. 

“It felt like I was waiting forever,” he admitted. 

The two of you started in sync out the gate and turned left onto the main road.

“It felt like an eternity just to get to you. I have Mrs. Chun’s chemistry class for the last period. The classroom is pretty far.”

“Mhm, like on a planet far far away.”

Your eyes rolled up to look at him. The affection you found in the warmth of his eyes was startling, but not a surprise. 

Your mom used to tell you to always be careful with smiling. It caused laugh lines. It helped make crows feet. That smiling was a woman’s secret enemy she never knew about when it came to aging. She told you over and over to be careful who or what you wasted smiles on. Smiling up at him now, Jungkook was definitely worth it just to see him respond with his own. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only, like, one planet away.” 

A soft hush of laughter left him as he looked away. His gaze roaming around the street signs and their multiple names before looking back at you. 

“Are we going the right way to your place? I just realized I never even asked for your address.”

“Does it matter? I mean, with your leg and all.” You hated yourself for spoiling the moment by bringing it up. You knew it was a touchy subject when it came to his leg for Jungkook. So you weren’t surprised to see that spark of warmth fade ever so slightly from his face. His smile wilted at the edges of his lips before it all but disappeared. “You know I’m sorry I said anything. I shouldn’t have. I mean obviously you know yourself and your limits. You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t able to do it.”

You were rambling. You were fidgeting and waving your arms around while you talked, because why not? You were doing everything else besides hyperventilating at this point. All you knew was that you felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. When all you wanted was to know he was okay. 

You were so lost in the space inside your head and worrying that you didn’t notice him laughing at you. You were mid-arm swing. Inhaling for another round of mouth babble to start asking for forgiveness when he waved for you to stop. A finger tip landing on your lips to quiet the words in your throat by shocking you into silence.

“You really don’t have to apologize so much, Y/N. It’s alright. I understand why you would ask.”

You were tempted to lick his finger away, but it felt too intimate. But so was a finger on the lips. Before you could decide your next move from your internal dilemma, Jungkook solved it for you. His finger detaching from your lips as quickly as it’d come.

“No, you don’t. I’m just worried about you. I know I should trust you to know yourself better, but-“ you did an over exaggerated shrug as you finished: “I’m a worrier.” 

“I’m flattered, I have you to worry over me.”

You knew he was teasing you and you couldn’t have been happier. You preferred it to making him sad. Plus, he was back to looking at you like you controlled the stars and oh, what a wonderful look it was.

“You should be. I’ve only got so much extra space up here.”

You tapped your head for added effect and were rewarded with a soft laugh that was followed up by a smile. God, you could get used to this. 

“I guess I need to work harder to take up more space.”

“Please, no. Let’s not do that. I need my sanity.”

You couldn’t believe you were doing so well at flirting. Usually, your sarcasm won out and you resorted to awkward winking, but this was definitely an improvement. 

“I’m not sure you have much of that left either,” he joked. 

You tried to hide your laughter with a scoff. You knew you were failing miserably at being offended. Your mouth fighting too hard to ward off a smile as you playfully bumped your shoulder into his arm. Jungkook was ready for you with his cane digging into the sidewalk to give him extra stability. 

“Ya, if I do finally go crazy it’ll be your fault, specifically.” 

“I think you’d have a hard time proving that in court. My counter argument would be pretty persuasive.” 

You looked at him in shock. 

“Court? Wow...that escalated quickly.”

Jungkook nodded his reply. He stopped in front of a bookstore and pointed at a manga in the window. You weren’t too familiar with the title, but it's a cover you’d seen plenty of. 

“It would happen as quickly as an infection from a zombie’s bite. It would seem all slow until suddenly you jumped up and tried to eat me.” 

You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face as you glanced at him and back down to the manga. A part of you wondering if it was one he’d read before or just wanted to use to make his point. 

“Question: why are we together during a zombie outbreak?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I’ll be walking you home. I’ll try and save you and while feeling all heroic about it, I won’t even realize you’d been bitten until it’s too late.”

The two of you moved away from the bookstore window and began to walk back down the sidewalk. Your mind trying to dissect what he was trying to say, but all it left you with was imagining a zombie version of you trying to take a bite out of him. 

“You must watch too much Walking Dead.”

“It’s a good show,” he shrugged. 

“Did you know that there’s actually a fungus out there that’s sort of like a zombie infection. It’s called Ophiocordyceps. It basically infects the host and within nine days of infection it takes control of the host's body movements.”

You were still walking and looking around while you spoke. Your fingers running gently over a row of gardenia’s that were planted in carefully placed pots in front of someone’s home. You were aware Jungkook had left your side by the sudden coldness of his absence. You turned to look for him and found him standing a foot away from you. A mixture of astonishment and amusement etched on his face. 

“Why do you know something like that? Actually, how do you know something like that?”

His eyes were dancing with curiosity as he moved to fall back into step beside you. 

“Let’s just say I like to read. I like strange things and facts. And science is full of both facts and strange things.”

With each small statement you held up a finger. When you ended on the third and final small fact about yourself, you wiggled all three fingers at him. The motion earned you a giant smile that only seemed to grow wider as his head shook slightly back and forth. 

“You are the strangest girl.”

“How am I strange?”

“You just told me about a body snatching fungus,” he chuckled. “What other girl is going to do that?”

Jungkook had a point. A very strong point. For all your new found confidence when it came to him, you couldn’t keep the heat from rushing to your face. Or the back of your hands from trying to hide it. 

“I would tell you to stop being embarrassed but it’s cute when you blush.” 

The two of you came to a complete stop at the crosswalk. The red light blinking to tell you two it wasn’t safe to cross. It felt like a weird metaphor for this moment in your life. 

Stop! Do not keep staring back at him as if he strung every star in the sky. Stop! Don’t continue to entertain the thought that he looked like he wanted to kiss you or that you desperately wanted to kiss him back. Stop! Even though you already knew it was too late. 

You had plans. It’d all been strategically mapped out in your head until you could read it forwards and backwards to yourself. Do your best to graduate high enough in the percentage range to get into a decent college. Get a degree for a job, it didn’t matter what it was, that made enough money to help your parents. For all your careful planning, none of it had included him and yet, the universe had you both standing at a stoplight looking at each other like there couldn’t be any other reality where you weren’t meant to end up right here. Standing at this exact light and looking at one another like no one else existed. 

Luckily, the light changed signaling for you to begin to cross. The mass of bodies that had accumulated behind you began to push you both forward and, reluctantly, broke your gaze free from him. Your brain was scrambling to pick up a conversation you weren’t sure how to resurrect. Your mind too busy daydreaming all the scenarios you would’ve taken in different realities if you were braver. Clearing your throat, you did your best to wipe the thought clean and focus on your current reality.

“If it makes you feel better,” you started your body turning to consider him as you spoke, “the study was only ever done on the tropical ants that resided in the forest. The actual effects and what it could do to humans has never been studied. Yet. But I’m willing to bet it would take longer than nine days for it to take hold of a grown adult's nervous system and larger batches.”

He was looking at you in inspired mock horror. You weren’t sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Or if your unusual fact telling about zombie fungus had completely killed the mood. You got your answer in an excited hush of, “Holy shit it’s like you’re writing your own super villain backstory.” 

A smile erupted on your face as you playfully rolled your eyes away from him. It was hard to miss the mischievous glint in his eyes or the way his whole face still swam with the playfulness that lurked underneath his teasing. Jungkook was so alive. A force that required you to hang on or else you would get swept up in him without even realizing it’d happen. 

You wondered if this is what falling in love felt like. 

“I would make a terrible villain. I’m too clumsy,” you stated. Your weak attempt at downplaying yourself being met with a stern look. 

“How clumsy are we talking?”

“Hmm, I would say, ‘Kronk giving the llama potion to Kuzco,’ kind of clumsy.”

A hiss of air whistled between Jungkook’s teeth. A mock look of worry on his face as his hands moved to reposition his bag. 

“Can we call that clumsy, though?”

“What else would it be?” You asked. 

You could feel the lines grouping together in your forehead just trying to figure out what he was getting at. Jungkook didn’t seem to be in any rush to answer you. The two of you walking a few feet before he must have decided you’d waited long enough for him to reply. 

“I always thought Kronk was stupid throughout the whole movie, but really, he was just a good person. He’s a good guy tasked to do a bad thing and he just wants to make people happy. Even if it means doing the wrong thing.”

You wanted to ask if maybe he was talking more about himself than The Emperor’s New Groove at this point. He faced forward with his brow creased in deep thought and whatever it was that held his thoughts didn’t appear to be anything good. 

“Or,” you started, voice light enough to drag him out of his head, “it’s just a kids movie.”

Sure, Jungkook was looking at you, but he didn’t seem to actually see you. Somewhere inside his head, he was reenacting or seeing something that ate up all the sunshine that lived in his bones. It felt silly to feel a sense of panic about something that might not even be true. And yet, you couldn’t stop the awful thought that sadness was trying to make a home inside his soul. 

Without giving it another thought you reached up and pretended to wipe away a pretend rogue eyelash from his cheek. The suddenness of your fingers brushing on his skin jolted him from wherever his thoughts had held him hostage and back into the present. His eyes darted around your face and his own hand came up to gently take yours. 

“Sorry.” Your words came out breathy as you struggled not to focus on how he was practically holding your hand. “There was an eyelash. The wind must have blown it away.”

The earlier sadness that’d hollowed out his eyes was gone. What replaced it was one of knowing you weren’t telling the truth. His head tilted slightly down to inspect your empty finger of the proof you knew your words didn’t have whose eyes sparked with his usual teasing and something else. Something that left a different kind of heat flooding your cheeks. 

“I’m sure there was.”

Reluctantly, you removed your hand from his and continued to walk. It only took him a couple seconds to fall effortlessly into step beside you making you wonder if his leg was as injured as it seemed. 

A warm silence swelled around you as you continued to walk. A comfortable pace setting between you as he looked in the windows of every store you passed in between the changing streets. He never once asked if you were getting close to your home or how much farther it might be. It was like the moment on the back of the bus. The two of you enjoyed that the other was there without ever feeling the need to say it.

But you knew it was soon coming to an end. In only a few blocks, you’d be home and your fairytale moment would end. You were struggling on how to break this, more to yourself than Jungkook, when you noticed he pulled a Nikon camera from the side of his bag. He was squinting through the lens and taking photos of something up ahead. Of the landscape or the people and buildings that framed it you weren’t sure. 

He must have sensed your silent question as he snapped a few more quick photos before turning to acknowledge you. 

“Y/N, I have a serious question for you.”

It was hard to keep the amusement off your face as you both came to a stop. The place felt random, but it was anything but that to Jungkook. Whatever he saw in this space you both inhabited must have felt like magic to him. 

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Do you think we have enough time for me to take some photos?”

It felt like such an odd request. Why should anyone have to ask to do something that they loved? Jungkook didn’t fully say he loved doing it, but no one spent that much money on a nice camera if it wasn’t something they enjoyed doing. The look on his face was just an added bonus of proving your answer meant something. One that made you wonder why he felt like he needed your permission at all. And then it hit you: he wanted to stay in your company while he did it. 

You considered teasing him, but he looked too vulnerable standing there. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. A pleading in his eyes that reminded you of a child asking a mother to go on just one more ride before they were forced to go home. You considered giving him the bad news that you had more than homework to do when you arrived home. But that could come another day. On this day, with him, you could spare an hour just to make him happy.

Instead of coming right out and letting him know you’d made up your mind, you decided to play coy. A soft, “Hmm,” hummed around you as you looked everywhere but him. Your index finger tapping on your lips for dramatic flare.

"Ok," You shrugged. "I think I have some free time I could spare."

His eyes squinted in question as you moved to stand in front of him. The movement simply to let a couple go by in peace, but somehow placed you closer in front of him. Jungkook’s gaze was roaming your face to find an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. 

“You planned on saying yes this whole time, didn’t you. You were just trying to make me suffer waiting for you to answer.”

You gasped in pretend shock and did your best not to smile at his accusations. By the growing smile on his face you knew you were failing miserably. 

“Me?! I would never do such a thing.”

“You’re secretly a sadist!”

Jungkook’s smile only widened as a scoff of disbelief passed from your lips. Your own smile grew to match his own when his hands lifted up his camera. Seconds later the sound of the shutter clicked and you felt your soul leave your body. The earlier playfulness was swiftly swept in your own dark cloud and the idea you probably looked hideous in that photo. 

“Oh god, Jungkook delete it,” you pleaded. 

Your hands were reaching out to grab tightly at this shirt. Your fingers curled in the white fabric until there was a small chance you could tear holes. The camera in question was being held far from your reach. His hand easily held it above his shoulder as he used one hand to steady you against him. You’d invaded his space without even realizing, but you had no time to be embarrassed. Not when he had a picture of you forever saved on that camera. 

“Why would I delete it?”

He was his usual amused self you could tell, but he wasn’t egging you on. His question was out of curiosity. His own eyes brimming with it as you considered keeping one hand tightly wound in his shirt and the other to jump up and reach for the camera. 

“Because Jungkook I’m not cute. You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t ruin the camera.”

All his earlier playfulness drained from his face and what was left made you instantly feel like you were about to be scolded. His hand that had firmly planted itself on your hip was achingly apparent now as his fingers gripped you closer to him. Your own awareness at how close you actually were to his chest made your lips feel dry. Your tongue flicked out to wet them and god, it took everything in you not to focus on the fact his eyes had followed the movement. 

“Y/N, why would you say that? You shouldn’t let anyone talk down about you, and you shouldn’t do it to yourself either. You’re beautiful.”

He spoke like it was a fact. A statement that not just the two of you knew, but the universe did too. And what were you supposed to say back? While you were held captive to the thought he was still looking from you to your lips. The determination for you to understand his words and believe them setting soft lines in his face. You tried to keep looking at him, but under his watchful gaze you couldn’t keep yourself from fidgeting. Your eyes moved down the line of his body until it landed on the tops of your shoes. 

You weren’t sure what to say back. Thank you didn’t fit here. It didn’t feel like a moment where he was trying to boost your confidence the way a friend did. This felt more like someone who noticed something in you while you hadn’t been looking. 

So instead of saying anything remotely clever back you began to dislodge yourself from him. Your hands releasing their hold on his shirt and forcing his hand off of your hip. Standing there with only inches between you, your body was achingly aware that his hand was gone. It’s weight leaving a burning of longing to have it back forced your hands into your pockets and your body turning away from him. You waited for him to start moving back down the road. The motion forced him to either join you or stay where he was. 

“We should get going before we run out of time.”

You hated yourself for dismissing him. For not being bolder like you’d promised yourself earlier in the day. It would’ve been the perfect time to thank him. To tell him how you were pretty sure there wasn’t a soul on earth more attractive than him, but that what made him beautiful is what he refused to let people see. The soft tone of his voice still singing along to the songs on the back of the bus had ended up being an unspoken lullaby when you’d gone to sleep. 

A part of you considered turning on your heel and telling him this. To tell him that you saw him; actually saw him for who he was and not who he felt like he needed to be. But you just kept moving forward and weren’t surprised when Jungkook found a steady rhythm back beside you. 

The both of you stayed quiet. This time it felt more forced than the easiness of earlier. Like the two of you had so many missed starts at creating a conversation that neither of you could understand why it ended.

You watched him as he focused on the area around him. His camera training on an old couple who sat waiting for the next bus. The husband had clutched his wife’s arm close to his side. In his hands he was peeling what appeared to be an orange and with each freshly peeled slice, he gave one to her and one to himself. No one knew what they were conversing about, but it didn’t matter. To them, they were the only two people there. The wholesomeness of the moment made you wonder what they were like back in their youth. 

You listened to the flutter of the shutter click repeatedly. His hand twisting on the lens to bring it in and out of focus, while he himself remained deadly focused on capturing their moment in time. You were curious how the photos would turn out in the end and wished there was a way to show them how their love translated on film. 

You were in the middle of watching Jungkook turn his attention to a couple birds inside a cherry blossom when he spoke.

“Thank you for agreeing to walk with me while I do this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook.”

A sad smile curled his lips as he dropped his camera down in front of him. His thumb skimmed over the buttons to quickly go through what he’d previously taken. The last one he landed on made his entire face light up and you felt a pang of jealousy at what it could be. How you wish he would look at you like that. 

“Maybe, but I feel like I do. Ever since my accident, my appa hasn’t been able to force me into things. For once, I get to just do what I want. Sucks it only had to cost me a friend and a leg to get some freedom.”

Your feet had carried you to the next stop sign. The sudden halt in moving forced you to look at him, really look at Jungkook, like you’d never seen him before. 

He wasn’t looking at you now. His ears a screaming red while his fingers danced over every part of the camera. His eyes roaming over its edges and flicking too fast through pictures to actually even be looking at them. For the first time since you’d met him Jungkook was scared to look at you. Scared for what you might see if you did. 

Looking at him now, you couldn’t have been happier to indulge him. You’d indulge him for the rest of your life if he’d let you. 

“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”

You mentally smacked yourself at your choice of words. Jungkook, however, was backing to his beaming self as he finally glanced in your direction. His eyeing ate up your embarrassment as it was your turn to face forward. Your feet hopping in place as you waited for the light to flash it was okay to walk. 

“I’m supposed to be at physical therapy right now.”

“Wait, what?”

The light was flickering finally for you to all move. Your feet moved to carry you forward unintentionally, just to keep with the flow of traffic, as Jungkook gave you a small shrug for an answer. 

“Did you say you were supposed to be at physical therapy?”

Another shrug and another long pause with no answer. It seemed he had been waiting for you to round the corner onto a quieter pedestrian free street before he replied, “After school. I have appointments almost everyday and I never go.” 

“But why? It’s meant to help you get better, isn’t it?”

“Get better to do what, exactly?” He huffed. Jungkook’s entire body took on a broodier tone. His cane practically dug small holes with each press into the pavement. “Who even says that I can get better?”

“Well, doctors for one,” you pointed out. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have signed you up for it if they didn’t believe you could get better.” 

“If I was going to get better it would’ve happened already.”

It felt like walking on eggshells. This side of Jungkook was the boy you’d met on his first day of class. His guarded demeanor up on high alert, as he kept his gaze stoically forward and his chin held high. 

“You’re not an idiot, Jungkook. You know injuries take time to heal from. It doesn't just magically happen overnight.”

“Who says that I want to get better?”

The coldness in his words forced your legs to stop working. Your feet were unable to move as he continued to push on ahead of you. His own movements became slower now as the long walk was beginning to take its toll on his leg. He knew you weren’t beside him anymore and still he tried to keep pushing forward, before eventually he had no other choice but to turn around. 

The look on his face was as defiant as ever. Underneath that defiance was a sadness so raw you only wanted to reach out and hold him. If just to remind him that he was seen and that his pain mattered.

That’s when the realization hit you.

“Unless you feel like you deserve this.”

The stone façade he’d worked so hard to create in the past few minutes began to chip. His eyes being the first to show by the soft uprising of tears that you were right. Somewhere deep inside Jungkook believed that he deserved what happened to him. That this was punishment for losing a friend at his own hands, even if it wasn’t his fault to begin with. 

The tears that threatened to spill never did, but they were there. They floated dangerously at the surface of Jungkook’s control and he refused to let go. The rawness of his pain hit you and all you wanted was to help ease it. You weren’t sure if he would accept any kind of affection, even in a small hug. So your only option was to move closer to him. As close as he would allow without pushing you away. 

With each step you could see his jaw clenching tighter; pulsing like he was fighting from saying something wicked to send you skirting back. He was just as afraid of what you were about to do as you were at being the one to do it. 

When the tips of your shoes nudged against his you drew your eyes up until they landed on his. A spark of something; fear or uncertainty, flashed in his eyes. Was he expecting you to be cruel? To yell at him to stop being a child and to grow up? How much had he already heard those words shouted by adults? How long had he been standing there like this, in a world full of grief, and no one there to pull him out to breathe before the next wave suffocated him once more. 

You weren’t sure if it was you or if what you said would matter, but it was important he heard it. It was important he knew that this was okay too. 

“You got to forgive yourself sometime, Jungkook.”

The words themselves were simple. Simple and spoken between you as if there was a secret meant only for the two of you to hear. All you really wanted was for him to feel the sincerity of your words for him to know it was okay. Okay to feel sad, unsure, and helpless at times when all the world felt against you. It was okay to not know your first steps and okay to take those first steps when you were ready. Eventually, we needed to forgive, if only to give ourselves the chance to heal and move on. 

His gaze was still misty with unshed tears and still they refused to fall. The pain and defiance that had turned his features harsh began to soften. All that hardness he struggled to keep himself in and others out was beginning to fade and the only thing left was him. All that sunshine that you’d seen lived in his smile and echoed in his laughter that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. The way he cared for others and making them feel cared for. The softness of his singing and the way he eagerly filmed people at their most vulnerable: at their most beautiful. 

It was at this moment you felt your universe shift and tip until it realigned itself. With your fingers back to holding the edges of his shirt it took everything in you not to close those final inches and hug him. Jungkook closed that distance for you instead. 

His lips crashing down on your cheeks causing a soft squeak of surprise to push free from your lips. A chuckle came as he came back into view and your mind struggled to comprehend what happened. 

It wasn’t a kiss on the lips but…

“Did you just kiss my cheek?”

Your hand was up to the aforementioned spot. A wicked smile wiping away all of his sadness until you weren’t sure if it had been real at all or if you’d imagined it. 

“I could kiss your lips if you’d like that instead.” 

If your cheeks could get any hotter you could’ve fried food on them. You felt a surge of disappointment when Jungkook took a reluctant step back from you as his eyes dropped to check the time on his phone.

“As much as I hate to say this: I have to go.”

“All of the sudden you have to go,” you huffed. 

Your words felt brave, but inside your heart was thundering wildly against your chest. 

“I could stay if you want?”

Smoother than expected, Jungkook slid his way back to you. His chest bumping against you making you lose your footing just enough that it forced you to grab on to his shirt. Jungkook’s own hand had moved behind your back to steady you and bring you closer to him all at once. 

You playfully smacked his chest and earned a soft laugh from him. Unfortunately, you found yourself peeling away from him. Your hands grasping at the strap of your bag to keep them from reaching back out for him. 

“Not a chance.”

Your reply earned a playful pout from him as he started walking backwards away from you. 

“I’ll remember that, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to start walking the rest of the way home. You didn’t get more than a few feet before he called back to you. Your eyes found him instantly in a crowd of people that continued to pass in front of him.

“I forgot to ask: what’s your number!”

He held up a pen expecting you to come back to him and write it down presumably on his arm or hand. You didn’t see any paper and could only assume. You knew it was all just a ploy to get you to come to him. The knowledge evident by the wicked grin on his face. 

“You’re a math wiz, right?” Jungkook was perplexed for a second before you started reciting your number as loud as you were willing to shout it. The wind blew it away as he no doubt struggled to listen. 

“Wow! What a way to play dirty.”

“If it’s meant to be you’ll figure it out.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe you both had a chance to write your own love story like from the movies and shows you used to watch with your mom. Like Rose and Jack from Titanic or Ross and Rachel...okay...maybe more like Chandler and Monica. Or maybe you were an idiot and should’ve just gone and wrote it down. It was too late now as he was already on the other side of the street. 

You were ready to walk the rest of the way kicking yourself for being so lame when you heard him call your name again. When you turned you didn’t expect him to be trotting across the road. You didn’t expect him to stop in front of you and give you another quick kiss on the cheek, this one gentler than before, with every fiber of your body remembering just how soft his lips felt. 

“I could fall in love with you, ya know.”

You watched as in the same breath he hopped back across the street and couldn’t help but think you already had. 

————-

Later that night you were snuggled up inside the sheets of your bed. The only thing sticking out was the current book you were reading and the top of your head. 

You hadn’t heard from Jungkook the rest of the day. Your heart hammered inside your chest every time your phone chimed with a new message only to deflate when you realized it wasn’t him. You loved your friends and all, but they weren’t who you’d been looking forward to all evening. 

Maybe you should’ve just gone to him and written down your number. Like a normal human being would’ve done. You just had to be clever and yell it out like a lunatic. For all you knew, you could end up with a random stranger texting you at all hours. 

Your current book that you were supposed to be reading but couldn’t really read because you couldn’t focus was now face planted onto your nose. A soft groan echoing into its pages as you fought not to close it and throw it somewhere in your room. You were a hundred percent sure you’d read the same sentence a few dozen times at this point. 

In the morning, you decided, you most definitely were just going to write it down. Like a sane person would’ve done. You closed your book and placed it down beside you. Your eyes roaming up to stare at your ceiling and wondering if you were ever actually going to go to sleep when your phone chimed off. 

You weren’t in any hurry to look. It could just be your parents from the restaurant making sure you were in bed. It could be one of your friends asking about making plans this weekend. It was probably still everyone but Jungkook and yet…

Your curiosity got the better of you. You shuffled inside your comforter, reached an arm out to grab your phone from the nightstand, and quickly pulled it back inside. You waited for your facial ID to unlock the screen to see who or what you’d received. Your own mind hyping up the suspense of the moment until it read over a reminder text from your dad about your chores for the upcoming weekends. 

You hated you’d let yourself have even a glimmer of hope. It was official. You’d ruined your chances when it came to giving out your number. A groan was creeping its way up your throat as you quickly sent back a text. You knew your chores took over almost every weekend. Even when you’d made plans with friends, you’d ended up never going. 

As soon as you’d hit send you were rolling over to put your phone back on your nightstand. The shrill sound of pinging messages stopped you cold. There was no way your dad had learned to text back that fast. You laid yourself flat back against the mattress and brought the phone to hover above your face. 

Y/N?

Is this the right number finally? 

Hello?!!

If this is the wrong person, I’m sorry. I swear I’m not crazy. Just looking for a girl. 

Your heart leapt into your throat. It was beating so hard you were scared it would burst from your chest. Your eyes were still skimming over the line of text messages when another one sounded. You were so caught up in reading the next line you weren’t aware your clammy fingers had let the phone slip and it crash landed down on your face. 

“Ooow!”

One hand scrambled to pick it back up off your face, while the other massaged the now swelling brim of your nose. 

How many people have you texted before me?

There wasn’t a need to send a hi. To give him a coy response to continue to tease him or make him believe he’d gotten it wrong again. Your curiosity at the desperate way he seemed to have been looking for you was endearing. The thought that he’d spent so much time sending out random messages for a response, no matter how crazy he looked, felt silly but cute too. 

Jungkook thought you were worth the trouble. 

OH MY GOD IS IT REALLY YOU?! And maybe like... seventeen. 

You snuggled deeper into your comforter as a soft giggle joined the growing smile across your face. 

I’m sorry I should have just wrote it down when you offered the pen lol

It definitely would’ve made it a lot easier.

You’d asked yourself that question all evening while you’d waited for him. You bit your lips as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Unsure if you should take the chance and tell him. 

“Screw it,” you whispered as you typed. 

Took you long enough. I’ve been waiting forever. 

Well, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. This girl thought it was a good idea to shout random numbers at me 😅😂.

Your head was shaking as you tried to figure out something witty to say. You couldn’t believe you were here. Inside your comforter cave smiling at your phone like a lunatic and wondering if maybe Jungkook was doing the same. Or what was he even doing? You were getting ready to type out that exact question when your phone pinged to life. 

So, ugh, on to more important matters. It read. I was thinking about your love of random facts and I think I got one for you. 

Ooooooo kekeke this should be good 

Do you want to know it or not? 

Okay okay! Lol please tell me Kookie

You could practically feel him screaming through your phone as a sideways glance emoji was sent back in a long lined response. You wondered if you’d completely ruined his fact telling when your phone went off. 

I found this article that said the chances of finding your soulmate out of 500,000,000 people was impossible. But, if you just place it to where you are, to your age group, and timing it narrows it down to a 1 in 10,000 chance. What I’m trying to get at is...I think your my 1 in 10,000

You read the message on repeat. Over and over until you were sure you’d practically memorized it front and back. You wanted to ask him for his source material. Where such an article could exist. None of that really mattered to you and how could it? 

You must have spaced out because you never sent him a reply. Your thoughts were still spinning in a world all their own as you wondered if he was sitting at his desk doing homework or lying in bed. If he was inside or outside and what had made him so brave to send that message: believing you felt the same. 

The vibration of the phone brought you back down to earth. You expected to see question marks or another line of, “Hello?” To have left him on read. Instead, the only thing that greeted you was a simple, Goodnight, Y/N. 

This time there was no hesitation from you. 

Goodnight, Jungkook

See you in the morning ?

His text felt so hopeful. A silent undertone that if you said no there was a chance you’d break him. You bit your lip as you thought about what this meant. The beginning of small promises that eventually grew into bigger ones. 

I’ll meet you at the gate

You both finished up with another round of good night’s that felt like the embarrassing texting equivalent of “no you hang up! No you!” And placed your phone back on your night stand. It took forever for the sandman to finally claim you. Your dreams consisting of the magic of being Jungkook’s 1 in 10,000. 

[sunlightandsuffering]

Corruption au Eren cockwarms mikasa once they’re together, he says ‘it helps him remember things’ and then every so often he gives her an orgasm just to keep her pliant against him while she plays with her boobs, he doesn’t do it in a cruel kind of way, it just he wants to pleasure her while doing his work

however when they’re not together, he’s such a sadist about it, he refuses to let her come even after he’s done his hw and is just fucking her, he always leaves when he’s done. Until one day when he starts feeling bad, he lets her come and it absolutely ruins him, he becomes obsessed with pleasuring her and seeing her face flushed pink, and hearing the needy sounds she makes and the quiet sighs, and the way her hands frantically move around until he Holds them together

STOP U GUYS KNOW ABOUT MY COCKWARMING OBSESSION STOP IT 😂😂 omg bless corruption Eren tho, this is my favourite kink for him, its so hot and it fits their situation perfectly.

It starts slow for Eren, to be honest he has no fucking idea when it really started. One day he'd been failing calculus, accepting he wasn't going to pass the year and thinking about maybe dealing drugs as a career path over his previous dreams of doctor. The next he was being forced to study three days out of the week with high school princess, Mikasa Ackerman.

At first he'd hated it, hated her really. He'd never been able to stand her, not since they were little and she'd chosen the dark side of Historia Reiss, bully and mean girl if there ever was one. Historia had sweet innocent baby Mikasa under her thumb. Mikasa followed her around like a dumb fucking puppy and Eren hated followers, they were all the same, no personalities, no aspirations of their own. She had no backbone either. She let all the shit Historia did slide, all the bullying, the holier than thou attitude because her family was richer than god. So very typical of the rich kids from the upper class neighbourhood. Eren would know, he used to be that rich kid, used to live that life. That was until his parents died in a brutal car accident, Zeke had inherited half the estate on the condition he'd take care of Eren and the rest was tied up in Eren's trust fund until he was twenty one.

Big surprise, no one had taken care of Eren and he was fucking lucky Armin and his grandpa had been there to help him out.

Everyone else, all his other 'friends' had given him the cold shoulder upon finding out he was no longer rich for the moment, he'd been dropped like a hot potato. So Eren's hatred of the upper class of Shiganshina had begun.

And Mikasa Ackerman was the pinnacle of it all, the worst the rich had to offer. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, had every opportunity in life, completely innocent and sweet, and the cherry on top of it all she volunteered on the weekend at the pound.

She disgusted him, so prim and proper and all around good girl while she was letting her 'friends' bully him for being poor, watching the injustice happen like a fish in a bowl.

He couldn't fucking stand her.

Of course, she would be the person who ended up tutoring him though, Principal Erwin mandating it if he wanted to graduate. So here he was sitting in the computer lab at five on a Wednesday watching her plump lips move as she explained integrals to him for the third time in an hour.

It's been a few months since they've started this little arrangement and he's gotten used to her presence. He wouldn't say he likes her, thats a stretch but he's not quite as cruel as he once was. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a kick of watching that beautiful mouth part every time he does something mean though, those little gasps when he pinches her thigh or touches her where he shouldn't.

It's probably the highlight of these sessions.

Today he's feeling bold, maybe he'll push his luck. After all, he's done it before and she's never protested. For some reason or another Mikasa Ackerman has a soft spot for him, and no matter how mean, she lets him get away with murder. "Miki, come here I can't hear you properly." "And then you take the-what?" She looks up, pretty dove-grey eyes wide, sparkling as she explains her favourite subject, fucking math.

"You heard me, get over here." As usual, she takes orders so fucking well, it brings out the absolute worst in him. She's standing up and next to him in seconds and he's eye level with her perfect chest, those tits he dreams about every night, ripping her bra off with his teeth and sucking at those pretty pink nipples of hers. He's only seen them a few times, when he convinces her it's okay, when he's sure there's absolutely no one around, but they keep him awake at night. He pats his lap, grinning as she goes easily, settling into her favourite spot, he knows she loves it just as much as he does. Her thighs always shake and she shudders as his hands find their place cupping those beautiful creamy thighs, head tucked into her shoulder.

Mikasa starts talking again, beautiful lilt soothing him as she launches into a renewed explanation of integrals while his hands move up, up, up and to his absolute favourite spot, her panties. Today she's wearing cotton, he can feel it, must be laundry day and he kisses her shoulder as he feels how wet she is. Fucking perfect.

Lately she's been more partial to fancier underwear and he can't help but wonder if it's for him. He has a feeling it is, because the first month of their little arrangement he'd snuck as many peaks as they could and it was always pink or white cotton with polka dots and pretty bows. They were his favourite, so fucking innocent, so untouched by anyone but him.

He watches as she moves her pencil drawing lines and numbers, a little bit of the alphabet too and he ignores it all in favour of watching her chest, her breath hitch as he slides a finger inside her panties, feeling those velvet lips, it's been a while.

He's been on his best behaviour lately since Levi almost caught them at her house that one time, but he's horny and she's wet and he misses being inside her, misses watching her try to talk through him fucking her, how her voice would waver, change pitch. How many times she'd stumble through her sentences, have to start all over again, because she can't handle how big he is, doesn't know how to deal with the all-consuming sensation of him fucking deep within her walls, just sitting there filling her right up to her cervix.

Fuck.

He can't really be blamed for what he does next, and besides it doesn't matter, Eren's not a stupid kid, he allowed himself to get this far behind in calculus. He'd spent an hour last night going over integrals with the sole purpose of knowing what was going on today so he could fuck with his favourite toy.

He moves her a bit so she's resting more heavily on one thigh and slides his joggers and boxers down just enough expose his heavy cock to the air, already rock hard and waiting. Mikasa gasps a little bit, a breathy sound quick and sharp as she sees him, her eyes transfixed on his dick and he grins, sliding her panties to the side and slamming her down on him before she even knows what hit her. The slide is so fucking easy too, it takes almost nothing and he gets a sick sense of satisfaction that even with little to no prep she can take him, probably better than anyone else he's ever fucked. She takes it all no complaints, as deep as she can and he bottoms out.

She lets out a long moan, that pretty sound he wants to record and listen to on his phone over and over again, her head lolling back uselessly against his shoulder as she takes in the sensation.

"Miki baby you know this helps me remember better right, sorry it just wasn't getting through my head I was too distracted, but now I'm all ears, why don't you continue. What's that rule you were talking about, how are derivatives and integrals related again baby, they're opposites?"

She's breathing quick and Eren doesn't blame her, he's struggling to keep his tone level as her walls squeeze him, warm and soft and he wants to stay buried there forever, she's so fucking tight.

"I-Eren-I-yeah, opposites," she finally manages to get the last word out ending a little broken as she struggles to sit up and make herself comfortable on his cock, she should be used to it by now with how often he does this, but it never fails she always reacts like she's taking him for the first time all over again. He fucking loves it.

"Why don't you explain again baby, I don't think I really understand? And make sure you're clear Mikasa." She nods, still squirming around, every movement shooting electricity up through both of them as she accidentally grinds down, she lets out an involuntary moan and Eren smirks.

Eren takes it upon himself to move her up and off his cock a few inches before impaling her back down, biting down on her neck a little bit as punishment and she whines, teeth coming out to bite down on her lip brutally as she tries to keep quiet.

"Stop moving baby, you're distracting me, just take my cock like a good girl and explain for me yeah?" She replies brokenly her voice soft and struggling with her breaths, "Yeah."

[strxnged]

WHEN IT'S DARK: AKAASHI x GN!READER

genre. angst, hopeful ending, friends-to-lovers, reverse comfort.

warnings. descriptions of depression, a lot of angst and overthinking on the reader's part. some rambling. i think everyone cries at least once. kissing.

word count. 8k

summary. akaashi keiji has been in a downward spiral since bokuto graduated. you scramble to find ways to help him, but everything you do seems to be making things harder. all you want is for him to be happy again. seeing your best friend like this is the hardest thing you've ever gone through. but... maybe there is hope.

Hearing his tone like this wasn’t new to you, but it hurt you anyways. Not that you’d tell him that. Bothering Akaashi about this kind of thing would be futile, since he barely had motivation to attend school or talk to you in the first place.

“I just do it when I’m bored,” Akaashi sighed, fiddling with his pencil. He wouldn’t meet your eyes. “As I’ve told you multiple times.”

“I don’t think you should deprecate your ability like that,” you replied. “And I really think it’s a good…” You trailed off, already regretting having brought this up. It would be better if the two of you went back to silence.

“A good what?” he asked, eyebrows raised. He was waiting for you to continue. Well, at least he cared enough for that.

You took a deep breath. “I know you don’t pay attention, but there are posters all over the school. An art contest. It would be a good opportunity…”

Akaashi sighed again. “Y/N, can you let it go?”

You could almost envision his future — moving in with Bokuto, probably, to both save rent and keep an eye on his now graduated senior. Akaashi cared for him, too much sometimes. He had a lot of anxiety and tended to overthink things. This led to good decisions, but also bad days where he was clearly just exhausted. You had noticed that this had actually worsened since Bokuto graduated. You would have thought that being without someone so constantly energetic would make it easier for him to stay calm, but maybe the distance between him and his best friend, the change of habits, the loss of purpose, drove Akaashi to become more withdrawn than he had ever been. You were now lucky to hear a sarcastic comment from him, and half the time you could tell he was daydreaming.

The first month of his third year had been the hardest, of course. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other friends, you being the primary other, but it was clear he felt like he had a piece missing. And seeing him like this made you worry that he might become like how he was all those years ago, a sad, uninterested kid, who was more lost in his thoughts than you. The two of you had evolved together, but Bokuto made an even bigger difference.

You missed Bokuto, too. He had been a big part of your life; he was good at indirectly encouraging you just by showing you a smile or talking about something he loved. He wasn’t the best listener, but he was very caring and had been someone you looked up to a lot.

Akaashi just didn’t seem to care at this point who was in his life or what they thought of him. Sometimes you got the feeling that if you left him, he wouldn’t care. Not that you would ever leave him, despite the common suspicion of a one-sided friendship.

So as more girls found themselves attracted to his ‘brooding’ — which was really just lost in thought that, from what he occasionally shared with you, wasn’t as deep as it might appear — he grew even less trusting, even of you. Akaashi was concerned with everything these days; the weather, dates of month-off exams, the state of the volleyball team he had quit, and so much more. And he didn’t want to talk about any of it.

Akaashi wasn’t a mysterious guy. He just didn’t have anything to share.

You wished you knew how to re-establish that smile in his eyes that had faded so much. You wished you had the same effect on him as Bokuto had had.

Why couldn’t you be like Bokuto?

You glanced at Akaashi’s paper. He had been doing history questions — had been. He had begun to sketch a vine of flowers sprouting off the corner of the page, snaking around the first question of the paper. Facts about a world war were growing over. You didn’t say anything, watching his pencil move. Your dull response earlier to his harsher comment had abandoned the conversation and overtaken the room with silence; regret washed over you once again for bringing that contest up.

It wasn’t as if his art was something to be ashamed of. He was talented — and you didn’t believe in talent. You saw ability as something to be worked towards. But when you saw his drawings, his sketches, as if the last remnants of his self-expression. And it was so expressive — curled vines and flowers and hidden emotions falling onto the paper. Darkness illuminated by the residue of hope. A blank page brought to life.

He was drawing an eye right now, with a leaf in the place of a tear. You didn’t know where he got the ideas for his art, or how he managed to sketch it so effortlessly. It was clear his mind was elsewhere.

Your gaze drifted to his slender fingers gripping the pencil. Maybe you were talking about his hands when you said, “It’s pretty.”

He hummed slightly in response, and stopped drawing. “I should finish my questions.”

“Drawing a bit isn’t bad, you know. It’s good for stress and—”

He frowned at you. “Could you stop?” He picked up his eraser and your heart dropped to the floor as you watched him rub off the eye, the leaf, the beauty that he had created out of thin air.

It was as if you had pulled him back to reality — as if you had somehow reminded him that drawing was pointless, even though your intentions were the opposite. What would be next? Would you make him hate his appearance? His voice? What else was he going to start hiding, now that his humour and smiles were gone?

You knew you were overreacting. But you and Akaashi were similar — you both overthought things, you both had anxiety that increased when the other was upset. And — well, you had used to be able to boost each other’s moods, although that was clearly untrue now.

Your study evening continued, slowly. Akaashi helped you with a bit of your work, and you pointed out a few things to him. He didn’t draw anymore. Studying was — effective, these days. It wasn’t a bad thing that you were actually benefiting from spending time doing schoolwork with him, but it was strange. Because you used to get lost in deep conversations well into the early hours, your homework forgotten when his eyes met yours with curiosity about the world. Curiosity about you. Akaashi was good at asking questions and learning. He was always open to improving himself. He was fun to be around, though in a different way than maybe Bokuto was. Akaashi was naturally good-natured and observant.

He had been a lot of things, and you loved all of them. You knew they were all still a part of him… but all of those elements of him were in hiding. Everything was toned down. Quieter. Less colourful.

You might admit that your friendship with him was bland these days, but it was your fault. It was your fault for not being more like Bokuto, for not being able to bring out the joy that seemed so hidden most of the time now. Things hadn’t always been like this. Even when you met as kids, your connection was stronger than this. But now it was like a zombie of a relationship — there was nothing alive between you. Only a few shared moments, a few shared thoughts, a few shared meals. It was dead. You knew it was.

Things weren’t right. Things were off. But there wasn’t anything you could do but hang on. You had to support him, because if not you, then who would? Bokuto was gone, most of his friends had stopped associating with him, and everyone who now took an interest in him didn’t realize who he was or what he could be. You loved Akaashi — the kind of love, you didn’t worry about, because neither of you needed to worry about that right now — and you would never abandon him. You’d stay by his side through this. You’d help him find the light again.

At least, that had been your plan.

That evening, you found something. It was when Akaashi had gotten up to make you tea — you had volunteered to do it instead, or with him, but he had shut you down. So you stood to stretch, your eyes wandering around his familiar room. You felt strange. He was so grumpy today. Was it because of what you had said about the contest?

You caught the sight of a paper sitting on a book on his bedside table. It was a drawing of a face, eyes with star-like streams of light spilling out — the rest of the face had the light streaming down it, dark shadows around the neck and below the lips. On the bottom right, you could see his signature in dark pencil. Something about it made your chest tighten.

Your mind went back to the contest you had seen advertisements for around the school, the one that you knew Akaashi wanted nothing to do with.

Draw your emotions! it had said. The more creative, the better! Submit by December 6, winners announced December 20!

You knew there had been more details, but you couldn’t remember them. It had been designed with red, yellow, and blue… indicating that they were probably looking for color. So… would this work? It was completely grayscale… but it had a good use of values and it was clear and it was evocative.

You had a week to convince him to submit his work.

He wouldn’t want you to. He didn’t even want you to see it. He treated his art like a private thing. Like it was just a small thing he did that was none of anyone’s business.

But Akaashi treated too much of his life like that now. He was hiding everything.

So if he didn’t want to submit any artwork, then you’d submit it for him.

Akaashi was re-entering the room with a cup of tea in each hand, setting one down for you. You had set down the drawing just in time, assuming the same listless pose you had had when he left. You studied his downcast eyes. Maybe you would never again be the spark that lit them up again… but you had to try. For both your sakes. You knew that would probably be hard on him. He’d probably get mad at you, in his quiet way. But maybe if he won — maybe if he won, he’d see how important his art could be. Maybe he’d see that he shouldn’t hide in the shadows anymore.

-♡-

It wasn’t as if you’d never brought Akaashi’s art up to him before. You had mentioned it several times, including the study session last night. However, now you had a goal. You weren’t just bothering him about his habit because it intrigued you — you wanted to convince him of something.

Part of you hated this sense of “duty.” It’s none of your business. Let go of it. He’s fine without your help. He won’t like this.

It was just an art contest. You knew that. You just wanted — to prove something to him. And it wasn’t just a baseless idea. You saw the way his eyes had lit up at his high mark in art the year before, despite all the times he used to smile about the course and say, “It's just so that I have an elective course. Universities like that.”

And of course, you couldn’t picture him taking many of the other electives. He was too anxious to be in the same room as a chainsaw, so being in something like metal work or woodwork would definitely not suit him. And he was already a well-experienced cook, so being stuck in a classroom half-filled with people who didn’t know how to make noodles would be frustrating for him. And although he’d be fantastic in the more academic classes, you and Bokuto had convinced him that he had to do something hands-on. He had mentioned that volleyball fit that concept, but you knew and somehow Bokuto knew that volleyball was more of a stressor than a reliever for him.

Akaashi was capable of making his own decisions, but he valued input. At least, he had used to. Before this year. Before he shut down.

You had only a few months left with him. Spring would come, he’d graduate, probably go off to something he wasn’t completely interested in… leaving you.

There were so many reasons that you were doing what you were doing. A longing to see him happy again. A hope that he would stop diminishing his skills. Out of regret, that you hadn’t done anything for him yet. Out of love; an unknown kind.

It was Saturday, so although many times in years before he’d never decline hanging out with you, it was difficult to come up with an excuse now. Because he never did seem interested. He wouldn’t decline, he was too polite for that, but you always somehow felt like you were somehow invading. Even when it was his idea for the two of you to hang out, you felt like you were invading.

You tried not to take it personally. But you couldn’t help but wonder whether it was, sometimes. You were the only person he wouldn’t obviously avoid, but you couldn’t help but wonder whether he wanted to.

You called him, already grimacing at the tone you knew he would have. Your eyes drifted out the window as you heard him pick up.

“What is it?” Not angry. Just… uninterested.

“Can I come over? I want to talk about something.”

“Couldn’t you have done it last night?”

You paused. Well, you had talked about it last night. And you had been shut down.

“I’ll be there in fifteen, okay?”

“... Okay. You’re not going to tell me what this is about? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Oh, how ironic that he should be the one to ask if everything was okay.

On the way over, you remembered every time that you’d try to ask him if he was okay. Every time you’d hinted that maybe he should get help, that you’d quietly reminded him that you were there for him.

Always, a cold response. “I know.” “I’m fine.” “Don’t worry about me.”

You’d reminded him that you’d always worry about him. That was what you had to do, as his best friend. But no response had come but a feeble nod.

Akaashi opened the door, the borderline of a scowl on his face. “Did you leave something here?”

It was true that you had decided against taking his drawing of the face last night, and that you might not get another chance now. If you brought this contest up again and he got mad in his sulky way, he might hide it all. You couldn’t risk it.

“Now that you mention it,” you said. “I think I left a pencil here. I’ll grab it, and then I’ll tell you about what I was thinking about.” You mentally crossed his fingers that he wouldn’t volunteer to grab it for you.

“Be fast. I’ll make some tea, I guess.”

You nodded. You saw the hesitation in his averted eyes — he probably had had no intention of inviting you in. He was probably cursing his polite habits as you shed your shoes and ran to his room, eyes searching for the drawing.

It was still there, on his bedside table. But as you approached it, you realized that he had made a few changes to it. He’d changed the face and eye shapes a little, darkened the shadows, added more contrast overall. So he was still working on it — it wasn’t finished — so, you couldn’t take it, now. And this meant that he hadn’t quit art as you had worried he might after your conversation last night.

Despite now knowing that it might not be complete, you picked it up and admired the details a minute longer before gently pushing it into your shoulder bag. It was almost too big; you cringed as it bent slightly at the end. After adjusting it so that it wasn’t in such a position, you closed your bag and hurried back to Akaashi, who was setting a cup out for each of you.

Akaashi always made you the same kind of tea. You had mentioned that you liked it several years ago, and he never stopped making it for you. Even though it was from a place several hours away. Even though your preferences had somewhat changed, not that you’d tell him that.

“So,” you said, sitting across from him. “It’s about your art.”

Any interest Akaashi’d had in what you wanted to say was now disappearing, fast. He peered into his mug. “I see.”

“You’re smart,” you continued, raising your voice a little in hopes that he was still listening. “You’re the smartest person I know. You could do well in any area that you choose to go into. I know you’re more interested in literature than the sciences, so I don’t know why you keep pushing yourself in chemistry and biology. You’re so smart, but I think you need to know how to follow your heart.”

“My heart? Really, Y/N?”

“What do you want Akaashi? What are you interested in?”

Akaashi’s eyes cut into yours. He sipped his tea, and after swallowing, stared at you for a few seconds. “At this point,” he said softly, “I don’t know or care.”

“Then let me help you figure it out. Please.”

He didn’t respond. Conversations with Akaashi hadn’t been this personal for months, and it showed.

“You love art. You don’t admit it, but as much as you can do all the other things, you find so much joy in creating. You love art, Akaashi.”

“So can’t we leave it as something I love?” In his own way, it was clear that he was properly pissed off. “And not something else I’m ‘good at’ and should ‘continue on with’?”

“So you do love it.” You were tempted to pull the paper out of your bag and slam it on the table in front of him. And make him see.

“Not enough.”

“Or too much.”

Akaashi took a deep breath. From his narrowed eyes and tight lips, you could tell you were pushing him to the edge. To the edge of what, you didn’t know. Maybe this would be a win.

Or maybe this would be the biggest loss of all.

You knew it was dramatic to believe that Akaashi would throw away his only friend over a little argument, but at this point it didn’t seem too far off. Your relationship had been weak for long enough now that part of you doubted things would ever go back to normal. Maybe this was it. Maybe this would be it.

“Let go of it,” he said. “I don’t need you to try to live my life for me or make my decisions.”

You lowered your eyes to your cup of tea.

“Okay?”

You sighed. “Okay.”

So, neither. He wasn’t anywhere close to letting you win, but he wouldn’t let himself win, either, you realized.

The bag around your shoulder felt heavy as you left, even though all you had taken was an extra piece of paper. He’d notice it was gone. He’d blame you. But it was too late to put it back.

So it was your actions, not your words, that would be the executioner of your friendship with Akaashi Keiji.

-♡-

You weren’t surprised that he had noticed the piece was gone from his room. After all, it had been in a very obvious place in his room, and there wasn’t really anywhere it could have fallen. It wasn’t as if he could have lost it very easily. Akaashi didn’t lose things. Or if he did, he never told you. Akaashi insisted on doing everything on his own, a true self-destructing machine.

He didn’t say anything about the missing art, because he didn’t say anything at all.

He wasn’t going to run away from you. That wasn’t like him. And he wouldn’t tell you why he was acting like this, either. Not that you didn’t already know. So instead, he just continued on with school. The only difference was that you had been added to his list of people to ignore.

Meaning that he spoke to no one.

Meaning that he was, now, entirely alone.

The worst part was, it didn’t even seem like he was mad at you.

Akaashi wouldn’t blame anyone for mistakes unless he had no other choice. He would always put it on himself — saying things like “I should have told you,” “it’s my fault for not doing it myself,” and that kind of thing — and so, since he didn’t have all the evidence, he wouldn’t blame you.

You realized with a pang after Monday that you had no idea what that piece meant to him. You had seen it as a pretty picture that deserved recognition, but what if it did have that emotional value to him? What if it was his therapy right now? An outlet — a break — not something to be exhibited — and you had taken that away from him.

For a horrible hour late that night, throwing the covers and sitting up with the piece in your hands, you knew you had to give it back to him. This was your fault, but he was blaming himself. He was suffering at your hand. Maybe he’d hate you. In fact — you knew he would hate you. But it was the right thing to do.

However, you woke up that morning with a renewed sense of cowardice and pride. It was clear that he’d hate you either way… so what if you didn’t tell him? What if you… submitted it for him… and…

If he lost, he’d never find out, if you could help it. But somehow, you knew he wouldn’t lose. This piece was too significant.

You found the piece again, internally cursing yourself for allowing a bend to form along the center. But — it was still perfect. It was beautiful.

You knew there were many art-inclined students at your school that had probably worked very hard on some pieces. But something about this piece was so intricate but simultaneously raw, as if drawn and re-sculpted from a photograph. The curve of the chin looked like home. The hair was smoother than your own. The eyes — the empty eyes full of light — made you believe maybe there really was some hope left in Akaashi.

So you’d submit it. And then… for almost two weeks, you’d wait.

Did this mean that you’d have to lie to him every day until then? Partially. Was it right? It was debatable. But you had very few options. You had no one to talk to, and he had no one to talk to. Without each other, you realized, the both of you were utterly alone and helpless.

It was the worst feeling. It was almost as bad as being with an Akaashi that wasn’t himself, an Akaashi that wore a face that conveyed an inkling of his emotions. Or perhaps the opposite. Either way — neither was pleasant, and you didn’t want either of them to be your life. But it seemed like they were your only choices, both inevitable to be a part of your life for at least a few more months.

As you finished filling out the form in his name and submitting the photograph of the piece, you could feel anticipation overtake you. You had experienced something similar not too long ago while working on scholarship forms, but this felt just as personal, even though it wasn’t even your art. You weren’t an art critic or anything, but you knew that an eight-point-five-by-eleven piece of paper was nothing compared to the paintings some people were probably submitting. You knew that the lack of colour might not be eye-catching, and the concept of a face wasn’t overly original.

But it was the raw emotion. It was the evidence of an internal battle that made you want to run to Akaashi and tell him to hold onto that light.

So, with the piece submitted, you were even more conflicted. Because there was no taking it back now. There would be no giving it back to him — unless you wanted to find yourself in the position of lying about why you had it. You weren’t an awful liar, but when it came to Akaashi Keiji it became entirely too difficult to mask anything.

Maybe you shouldn’t talk to Akaashi either. Maybe you should stop trying until the results came back.

The contest, you knew, was meant to be for learning. It was for your high school. The winning prize wasn’t even that large. Actually, at this point, you couldn’t remember what the prize was. You were becoming more and more consumed with the idea of his piece winning. The idea that all the competitors were probably keeping in mind, that this was meant to be a learning experience, was lost on you. All you could think about was how Akaashi winning would prove that he had so much left. So much he could do.

There were so many things winning would prove to him.

In the meantime, things with Akaashi did not improve. It was the middle of the week now, and if it hadn't been for your poor decision on Saturday maybe he'd still be willing to talk to you. Maybe you'd have still had a chance to talk him into the art contest.

But it was too late for that now.

Your life felt like a repetitive series of ‘too late’s. Would you ever get a ‘too early’? Or finally get a ‘just right’?

If only you had known how Bokuto's absence would affect Akaashi. If only you had convinced him to trust you from the beginning of the year. If only you hadn't been too late to tell him he was talented at art. If only you had been there for Akaashi before he'd fallen so far that you couldn't help him.

It hurt, every day, to witness your dead friendship drawing on like a zombie. It hurt knowing that it was dead because you were too late.

Something had to change. You had to talk to him differently — come up with something. Maybe it shouldn't be you anymore. Maybe you should encourage one of the many girls who took an interest in him to pursue him, so that he could have someone to talk to that wasn't you. If he could learn to trust someone again…

But, no. That was unthinkable. Akaashi had never had a girlfriend, and it remained an unwelcome idea in your head. Was it jealousy? You weren't sure. You only knew that the idea of not being Akaashi's one and only was very off-putting.

The week ended. Submissions to the art contest closed, and the real game of impatience began.

Days with the even quieter Akaashi went on. Sometimes, when you looked him in the eye you almost thought he knew what you had done. And other days, it was clear he was blaming himself for everything.

This year had been awful ever since Bokuto left. So when he told you he would be coming back for his winter break at the end of this week — on the day the results were supposed to be released — you had a little more hope for both yours and Akaashi’s future.

-♡-

It was the first time you’d seen Akaashi in tears.

Second year of high school. Third-year’s graduation. Bokuto Kotaro’s last day at high school.

You weren’t too far from tears yourself, when the cheery volleyball captain climbed the stage and shook hands with the principal. You weren’t too far from tears when Bokuto made a speech he had been selected to make. You were very, very close to tears when he started reading off the notes Akaashi had written for him, but got distracted by a thought and ended up spending his time talking to the entire school about an instance at a practice involving the managers and the first years. And both you and Akaashi were absolutely sobbing when Bokuto encouraged the whole school to continue to put their soul into every ball, as if they were all players on his volleyball team. As if he’d be back to continue to push them, so he wanted to remind them to keep working hard while he was gone.

After the ceremony, even though you had a lot of time left to spend with him before spring break was over, hugging him felt like the last piece of joy left in your life. He squeezed a little too hard and hugged a little too long, but you’d never, ever complain. Because this was Bokuto Kotaro. And — maybe you would see him again, but it felt like you wouldn’t. It felt like he’d go off and change into someone else, never to return the same guy.

You watched Bokuto hug Akaashi. And Akaashi hugged him back, which was somewhat uncommon. Akaashi smiled at Bokuto and congratulated him, but Bokuto’s first thing to say was,

“Akaashi! Why are you crying?”

You watched this with bittersweet laughter, because Bokuto was also clearly crying. His eyes were red, tears streaming down both cheeks, jaw even trembling. But he asked Akaashi why he was crying.

Bokuto was so hard on both of your hearts. As you mentioned to each other afterwards, you really did feel like parents watching your son finally grow up, despite him being a year older.

No, that wouldn’t be the last time you’d see Bokuto. But it did mean he was moving on. He was leaving the two of you.

At the time, you hadn’t realized how devastating this would be to Akaashi. You knew how much he cared about Bokuto and how much energy he put into being both his vice-captain and his friend. And you knew that going a whole year without Bokuto would be like digging a hole in his life. But — somehow you had anticipated that Akaashi would take this time to find something else to fill that with. You had expected him to regain his energy that he’d been using on Bokuto. You’d even hoped that he’d even go ahead to chase what he wanted like Bokuto was, inspired by his senior.

You hadn’t expected Akaashi to fall back, to quit volleyball, to shut down, to give up everything Bokuto had given him.

You hadn’t expected him to lose himself.

It was December 20th. The day you’d been reimagining in your head every night for two weeks. The day that things would change, finally.

Your math teacher was acting worried about you, for a good reason. Your grades had been slipping remarkably over the last week or so. Even though you felt like you were trying just as hard as ever, it was true that you spent some classes glancing over at Akaashi, wondering whether things really would change. And you did spend a few classes watching him draw. And your mind was elsewhere during classes — imagining a better future.

A contest. A little art contest. It felt like you’d bet your whole future on it.

“Do you need to talk to the counselor?” the teacher asked you, lowering her pencil. “It’s okay if you do. You’re not going to improve if you keep up with whatever’s going on.”

Just one more day, you thought. I’ll do better after this. I’ll have gotten through to him, and he…

You accepted the opportunity, heading to the counselors office. You took out your phone to check your phone for about the seventeenth time today. You refreshed your email a few times, and then sighed and collapsed into a chair. You only intended to stay here to escape the math teacher continuing to tell you you were failing her class.

“Y/N? Do you need to talk?” the counselor said from inside his office.

You knew him, from a few instances last year and the year before. But those were nothing compared to this.

You considered lying, saying that you were just not getting enough sleep. It wasn’t untrue; you had spent several nights lying awake recently. But… you were really tired of keeping in. You could talk to Bokuto tonight or tomorrow. However, as much as you knew he would care and worry, he might not understand, and he really wasn’t the best at listening.

So you shuffled into the counselors office. You didn’t like it much here. The walls were covered in obnoxious quotes and art students had done for him.

“So, what’s going on? Remember, you can say as little or as much as you want.”

You sighed. “I dunno. It’s just… you know my friend? Akaashi?”

He nodded.

“I’m just worried about him, I guess.”

“Have you told him that?”

You paused. “Well… yes? Sort of? I told him I wanted him to get better.”

“Get better?”

“He’s depressed. I think.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, it’s pretty obvious.”

He nodded. “It’s hard to see a friend go through that.”

Thanks for all your help, you thought. Your eyes wandered the walls again as if you were searching for answers, looking through eccentrically colored cats, dark skulls, feeble rainbows. A vine of flowers. A—

A vine of flowers.

You stood up and stepped towards the wall. Part of it was covered by a fresher piece of artwork, but it was undoubtedly his hand. Even the same pencil. This couldn’t have been from very long ago.

“Does he come in here?”

“He does. He draws.”

“Oh.”

You paused to look at it a little longer. Flowers climbing out of the lines of the paper. Life.

You slowly sat down again, feeling your knees begin to shake and a sob rise in your throat.

Drawing wasn’t a hobby or a habit for him. It was his last expression. His last hope. He needed it to survive. He—

It was all so clear now. You shouldn’t have interfered. You shouldn’t have touched his art. He would never trust you again, or if he would, it would remain bruised. He’d already needed an escape from you, even if it was small, and now you were invading even that.

You really hadn’t known what that sketch had meant to him.

Was it too late to take it out of the contest?

After you recovered somewhat, thanking the counselor for letting you sit in there for a bit, you started walking back to the math classroom. You hoped that it wouldn’t be too obvious that you’d been crying. You’d figure this out. At least — you thought you would. Until you opened your email out of habit and saw the contest results.

-♡-

Bokuto was supposed to come this evening. You were all supposed to meet at last year’s favourite hangout spot, one park a few blocks from the school. You were supposed to be happy to see him.

You still hadn’t told Akaashi about the contest, of course. You were going to wait until you found a good way to tell him. You told yourself that this would be within the next few days, although part of you knew it would be put off as long as possible.

Which was coming back to bite you tonight.

You almost didn’t want to go. You didn’t know whether you could face Bokuto, who barely knew what Akaashi was going through, and you knew you couldn’t face Akaashi because of the secret you were holding back. But — you had hoped that your best friend seeing Bokuto again would help him get back on track. Whatever track that may be. You’d be there to help him with that, too.

The question was whether he’d want you there.

Bokuto was already at the park, and when he looked up to see you, his face lit up. He was the same as ever, greeting you with a big hug and a big grin and asking you how your last year of high school was going. You told him some general opinions about how it had been going — more pressure, more work, and missing him, of course. He started to talk about how he was getting to meet lots of very talented people and he was learning a lot and the highlight was of course that he was having fun, but he really missed you and Akaaashi—

Akaashi showed up. He didn’t look overly excited, as you might have hoped he would’ve been. But he still smiled at Bokuto, and then made a comment about Bokuto not remembering to wear a jacket.

“It’s not that cold, Akaashi!” he said, and then gave him a hug which Akaashi half-reciprocated. You watched. You couldn’t help but study your friend’s expressions, looking for signs of real joy in seeing Bokuto again. So far, his narrow eyes were annoyed at the minimum.

“I missed you!” Bokuto was saying, and you started to zone out, watching Akaashi. His face was darkening.

You cleared your throat. “Do you guys want hot chocolate or something? I can run over to the cafe while you catch up.”

You didn’t really wait for a response, knowing that Akaashi wouldn’t give you much of an answer and Bokuto would insist on going with you. You didn’t know what Akaashi was feeling right now, but you had an idea that he really needed to talk to Bokuto. They hadn’t been together in person since the summer. And that time had been fleeting.

You noticed with confused annoyance that your nose had begun to run slightly; either a result of the cold, or it was because the idea of Akaashi having an opportunity to talk to Bokuto again made your chest hurt. The cold air hadn’t been that bad, but when you stepped into the small cafe, you could feel the difference. You took a deep breath, feeling the tension slowly fade now that you weren’t with them.

Why couldn’t things go back to normal?

And why had you expected that they would?

You ordered three drinks, and were careful to keep them balanced in the cup tray as you carried them back across the street towards the park. Bokuto and Akaashi had sat down on a bench; you wondered how cold the surface was. As you approached them, you could see Akaashi’s eyes widen at something Bokuto was saying.

“Congratulations on the what?” Akaashi asked him as you handed Bokuto a drink.

“The contest, of course! Didn’t you see the results?”

You froze as Bokuto smiled at you, taking the cup from you. “Hi Y/N! Thank you.”

“What contest do you mean?” Akaashi shifted his gaze to you. “Y/N, what’s he talking about?”

That tone again.

He knew.

You cleared your throat, averting your eyes from Akaashi. “I don’t know. I’m not sure. Bokuto, what do you mean?”

“The art contest Akaashi entered. The results were posted tonight. My sister saw it and showed me. Did you get your prize already?”

Akaashi paused. “I didn’t… enter an art contest.”

He was looking directly at you.

“Oh, did you forget about it? I saw the picture, the one of Y/N with white coming out their eyes? Dude, I didn’t know you were so good at art!”

You blinked and then turned to look at Akaashi.

It was you?

It had been of you?

“I’m sure you’ll get it sorted out. Hey, how’s the volleyball team going, Akaashi? Did they ever promote you to the captain?” Bokuto raised the hot chocolate to his lips, smiling as he savoured the flavour.

Akaashi didn’t look away from you. It was like he was paralyzed. He was studying you, maybe to figure out whether it had really been you that entered his piece to the art contest two weeks ago after the way you’d pressured him about it. Or maybe he was just too afraid to meet Bokuto’s eyes, trying to figure out how to answer him without disappointing him.

Akaashi had quit the volleyball team this year, right before the summer. He hadn’t told Bokuto. It had been six months since he had left it. He seemed to have grown to hate it, now that Bokuto wasn’t a part of it. He had grown to hate a lot of things. Sometimes you wondered if that included you.

You finally looked away from him, glancing at the cup in your hand you had meant to hand to Akaashi by now. You could still feel his sharp blue eyes on you.

“I quit, Bokuto,” he said softly.

Bokuto quickly lowered the drink, mouth wide open. “You quit what? Being the captain?”

“No, Bokuto. I quit volleyball.”

Bokuto stared at him for a whole minute, while you both shifted uncomfortably.

“You’re not serious,” Bokuto replied finally. “You can’t be. You can’t quit.”

“I did. I just…” Akaashi took a deep breath. “I needed to do other things. It’s been a busy year.”

“You quit volleyball to draw?”

You couldn’t help but notice the way Akaashi flinched at this. You knew Bokuto didn’t mean it in an insulting way. It just — it had obviously never crossed his mind that people could find more joy in art than in volleyball. Although — that wasn’t necessarily the case as far as you knew. There was still a huge chance that Akaashi did still like volleyball, but just couldn’t play anymore.

“When?”

“June.”

“June? Why didn’t you tell me? Akaashi, why’d you quit?”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi said.

You could have sworn you heard the catch of a sob in his voice.

This spot in the park had used to be filled with so many nice memories. Memories of laughter and bonding, and shared feats and trials. Cold drinks and warm drinks. The remnants of sunshine.

Now, the sky was dark with lies and unshared feelings and disappointment in each other and yourselves. It felt as if hope was lost, even if you were with the two people you trusted the most.

-♡-

Bokuto had gone back to his family for the night. The sky had indeed lost most of its light since you had met Bokuto, and you sat on opposite ends of the bench with Akaashi, your more cheerful friend no longer there to try to hold things together. It was obvious that neither of you wanted to leave yet, though. The sky was dark, your drinks were empty, and your hearts were heavy, but you wanted to talk to him, and you knew he wanted to talk to you.

He hadn’t spoken up until now, but you could feel his frustration from the way he held himself, from the way he looked at you. Akaashi wasn’t very expressive, showing only a short range of emotions, so anything out of the ordinary said a great deal.

“You entered my picture into the contest,” he stated, because he knew there was no question.

You didn’t bother to hesitate. “I did. I’m sorry.” You fixed your eyes on the ground. The light of the park lamp a few feet away cast a shadow off of Akaashi onto the snowy ground in front of you.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I thought… I thought you’d see how talented you are. And… I mean, you did get runner up.”

“Are you trying to justify it?”

“No. I’m not. I’m sorry.”

He paused. “It wasn’t even done.”

You looked up at him. “What? It wasn’t?”

Cold laughter echoed out of his chest and he fixed you with steady eyes. “I was going to color it, Y/N.”

“You were?” You covered your mouth. “Oh…”

The energy was strange. You didn’t know whether he was mad. Was he mad? Was he upset? He didn’t sound like it, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. If you said anything wrong right now…

“So… Bokuto said the picture was of me…” You sniffled. You were hoping that you weren’t wrong.

“Of course it was. You…” He shook his head, as if deciding against continuing.

“What were you going to say?”

“It’s… not important.”

You grimaced at him. “You’ve been saying that a lot.”

Akaashi’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “No, I haven’t. I don’t remember saying that at all.”

“Not out loud. But you say it to yourself every day.”

He didn’t respond, and you knew you were right.

“You have to talk to me,” you continued, tilting your head at him. “You can’t let art be your only source of therapy. Although… I realized earlier today that it was an outlet for you. I don’t know why I didn’t understand that before. I’m so sorry for putting your art out there like that when you didn’t want it to be. I’m sorry, Keiji. Please forgive me.”

The quiet of the night filled your ears for a few seconds, and then Akaashi leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. His hair fell over his face and you couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, but you could still… you could still sit near him.

You pushed yourself down the bench, settling right next to him. And after a terrible minute of not knowing whether you should, you lifted your arm over his shoulders and whispered, “I’m right here.”

He was cold. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he was shivering, not sobbing. His back was cold, and when you reached for his hand, his fingers were ice.

But they tightened around yours.

He cried silently. He seemed to be trying his hardest to hide it, even though it was past that. He didn’t look up at you again until he had calmed his breathing.

His eyes were red, and his lips were trembling. You didn’t know why he hid it; he looked just as perfect as ever like this. You were just glad that he was willing to show it. After all this time, he was finally willing to show it.

“I’m sorry I keep disappointing you,” he murmured. He seemed too ashamed of himself to maintain eye contact with you.

Your mouth fell open. Disappointing you? “You’re not. You haven’t. Not once. I’m just so worried about you and I know I’m not helping but I wish I could—”

“Then why does it feel like I am?” His voice broke, and he turned his face away. “I’m… I keep failing every day. Every day I hurt you a little more. I don’t care at the time — because I always think…” He trailed off, looking at you. He didn’t seem to know whether to continue. But you nodded, and he did. “I always think that… well, you’re going to leave me. It’s only a matter of time before my rashness scares you away. You don’t like seeing me like this. You said so yourself. So eventually, you won’t want to.”

You wanted to argue with all of this, but you could tell there was more.

“I hate showing my feelings, Y/N. I can’t do this very easily. I don’t know how you do it.”

You smiled slightly. Because I have no control, you thought. The opposite of you.

“So instead I save it for when I’m alone,” he whispered. “When it’s dark. When the paper in front of me is the only thing that can judge me. I feel everything all at once, and then it’s gone. And I’m numb again. Because it hurts too much that I can’t…”

“Keiji.” You didn’t use his first name very often, but this was important. He locked shining eyes with you. “It’s because you’re forcing yourself to be alone that it hurts so much. It’s because you’re not letting me be with you when you need me to be. You always push it back around me. Why?”

“Because it’s a weakness. I can’t get anything done when I’m messed up. So I leave it for the times when I’m not busy.”

“You can’t keep distracting yourself.”

“No. I can’t.”

You both went quiet again.

“I’m sorry I never—”

You cut him off. “Don’t even start apologizing to me again. You’re perfect, Akaashi. You’re everything. You never stopped being everything. I know things are bad right now. I don’t know why, and I know you don’t know why either. So—” You tried to hold your own tears back, sniffling. “—can’t we face it together?”

Akaashi looked ahead into the darkness. It was still the park, but somehow at night it felt overwhelmingly unknown. “What does it mean to face it together?”

“It means…” You paused, also looking forward. “It means we hold on to each other. I won’t leave you no matter what. And you’ll stop being afraid of it. Or at least… face the fear, whatever that means to you. And I won’t go anywhere.”

His fingers, still intertwined with yours, secured.

“Okay.”

-♡-

Your goal now would be to give him back his drawing. You had all winter break to figure things out, but you didn’t have the patience. You wanted to look at it again, maybe even ask him why he drew you, if that was true. And what it meant. If you’d been able to explain what it meant to face things together, then surely he’d be able to explain what his piece meant.

Because you’d submitted his unfinished sketch to an art contest with ‘emotions’ as a theme without even knowing what his piece meant to him.

The piece deserved to win. But the submitter did not. Maybe runner-up had been a good balance.

You found that even when you got the piece out again, it felt wrong to look at it. Instead, you carefully put it in your bag to take to him, hoping he’d explain it to you. You’d already talked about the contest, and he’d said that he’d wanted to retract it from them as soon as possible. He said that maybe if he got a chance to finish it he may resubmit it for something else but it felt wrong to him to have it seen right now.

You understood that now. If only you had known, though. If only you had been able to make a better, simpler decision, rather than overthinking it so much that you’d convinced yourself a contest would help him. A contest, while you were right here in front of him.

Akaashi hadn’t changed overnight or anything. He was still acting closed-off. He still didn’t want to look you in the eye for a lot of the time. But it was clear that he was trying to change for you. You couldn’t tell whether this was a good change; not because you didn’t want the old Akaashi back, but because seeing him force himself this much was painful.

“It’s you,” he explained, holding his drawing gently as if he really did see it as you. “At Bokuto’s graduation in March.”

You paused to look at it yourself. “And the white bit falling out the eyes? It looks like tears of light.”

“It was going to be colors. Blue, and purple. And flowers. But I never got to color it.” He led you inside his house, saying something about tea.

You followed, asking him more. “Why? I mean, why the tears of blue and flowers?”

“Because… when I think back to that day, we really were a reflection of each other. We’re so similar, Y/N. At the time, we were both in tears. We both knew things would be different without Bokuto. I see myself in you.”

“And the flowers?”

“I just thought it would be nice. It’s not like I was going to have anyone else see it. I… those flowers…. whenever I’m drawing those flowers, Y/N, I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about how you’re the only nice thing left in my life, and how I have to keep reminders of you everywhere in case I forget.”

Akaashi had really been trying his hardest all this time. He might not look like it most of the time, but he was really, really trying so hard to hold onto the tiniest bit of beauty that he could see. Flowers. You.

“Wow,” you said. “I thought it looked cool. Like… laser eyes.” You laughed slightly. “I didn’t know you were such a deep thinker, Keiji. Must be all the poetry books.”

“You noticed my poetry books?”

“Of course I did. I never stopped paying attention to you, Keiji.” You couldn’t help but notice that he smiled a little every time you used his name. “Keiji,” you repeated, just see it one more time.

“Yes?”

“Your smile is stunning.”

He smiled again, covering it with his hand until it faded.

“I mean it. I wish you knew how beautiful you were to me. You said I was the last nice thing in your life? But that’s what you are to me…”

You trailed off, noticing the way he was looking at you.

Like he knew something you didn’t.

Like he thought you knew something he didn’t.

An unspoken understanding of utter uncertainty.

His eyes drifted to your lips, and back into your eyes again. He looked at you like this when you spoke to him about something important. But you weren’t talking at all.

He lifted his hand. You had been expecting his fingers to be cold like they had been last night, but they were warm against your chin. He brushed his thumb against your lips and your eyes fell closed. You didn’t know what he was doing — you didn’t think he did, either. And then you were sure he knew what he was doing, because he was doing it so well.

Kissing you.

His lips were warm, too, and soft. Softer than you’d imagined. Perfect.

Somehow, everything suddenly made sense.

The way you’d been so hesitant to touch him, afraid he’d somehow burn you the way he was igniting you now. The way you found him so beautiful, even when he was upset or empty or crying. The way his happiness was something you sought more than your own. The relentless drive you had to make him feel okay.

His lips against yours like a dream. Fingers ever-so delicately tilting your jaw towards him. And then — his eyes, blue like the flower tears he’d explained. The smile in them. The irreplaceable, invaluable smile. Everything you’d been hoping for.

He dropped his hand too soon, turning towards the kitchen.

“What kind of tea would you like to drink?”

The question hung in the air as you tried to regain your wits. Your mind was blaring his name in bold and lights, over and over again. Finally, you replied.

“Same as you.”

AN. thank you so much for reading !! this fic means a lot to me, and i'm wondering whether you caught the meaning of the ending or not. it's okay if you weren't paying attention the first time, go ahead and reread the fic :)/j

if you enjoyed at all, please do let me know or reblog. it means the world.

(yes, this was - sort of - a repost. i initially posted this story as a series but honestly i really don't like even reading series which is why i decided to do this.)

NAVIGATION.

♡

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[heroloverangel]

A Welcome Distraction

Natsuo always hates the first day of school every year.

Natsuo’s never wanted to be a hero. While he’s proud of his baby brother’s success, he’s too familiar with its darker side to ever be interested. He dreads the start of every school year, when he’s forced to introduce himself to new classmates who inevitably notice how familiar the name Todoroki is. He hates having to nod and give a vague explanation that no, he’s never been close with his father and no, he didn’t inherit Endeavor’s quirk and no, he really doesn’t want to talk more about it.

“So, what’s your power?”

He’d hoped starting at the university would be a welcome change from this script but is annoyed to hear the other students already introducing themselves and asking each other about their quirks. He notices someone tap the shoulder of the girl sitting next to him, and his fingers tighten around his pencil when he overhears the conversation.

“Oh. I don’t have one.” He notices you look down at your lap, almost embarrassed by your answer. “I’m quirkless,” you admit, and the people around you react with awkward sympathy. He watches you from the corner of his eye; clearly he’s not the only one who’s always grown up hating the first day of class. You’re pretty, he thinks, and files this fact away as the professor appears at the front of the room to start the lesson.

He learns soon enough that you’re more than just a pretty face. He catches a glimpse at your notes one day and is shocked how neat and orderly they are compared to his barely-legible scribbles. When you get your first test grades back, it’s not a surprise that you’ve done significantly better than most of your classmates. “If I can’t be strong, I can at least be smart,” you joke, and the smile you flash at him makes a warm feeling bloom in his chest. He finds himself tripping over his words when he asks to study with you, but you agree to meet him at the library despite his fumbling.

It goes better than expected. You have a lot in common; both of you are working towards medical degrees and have plenty to talk about when it comes to your planned careers. It’s not a surprise when one study meetup turns into two, then three, until eventually you drop the excuse and just start dating openly. Natsuo is less experienced than you, he’d never really been comfortable with the thought of bringing someone to his family’s home, but he devours your affection like a man starved and gives back just as much.

You’ve had another fun night out when you invite him back up to your dorm. This isn’t the first time you’ve found yourselves making out on your bed, but he’s never been quite this quick to get your shirt off and have his hands on you. His fingers tickle along your ribs as he moves over your skin and you let out a quiet laugh. “You sure are excited tonight, huh?”

You see the beginning of a blush spread across his cheeks. “Sorry. Is this too fast?”

You shake your head and offer him a warm smile. “No, I like it.” You want him to be comfortable, and you’ve been happy to go at his pace with your relationship, but you can’t deny that you’ve been waiting enthusiastically for more. The two of you haven’t done much more than this yet, Natsuo content to grope you through your bra as you see how far you can get your tongue down his throat. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” he says without meeting your eyes. “It’s just...I’m supposed to meet my family for dinner tomorrow. Really, it’s nothing.”

Ah. You don’t know the full details of the Todoroki family’s drama, you haven’t been dating long enough to learn it, but you have a decent idea. If he needs a distraction, something pleasant to take his mind off of things, you’re happy to provide it. You take his face in your smaller hands and pull him in for a deep kiss. “It’s okay, let’s just have some fun.” He nods, letting you pull the shirt over his head to admire his body. He’s in surprisingly great shape for someone who spends so much time studying, and you don’t miss the opportunity to run your hands down his chest and stomach to the trail of white hair above his jeans.

He shivers at your touch and runs his hands up your arms, leaving goosebumps in their path. His temperature is always slightly lower thanks to his quirk, but that’s not why your skin reacts to the slight brush of his fingers as he reaches for the straps of your bra. “This is okay?” He waits for your approval before slipping them down your shoulders and reaching behind you for the hooks. It’s adorable how much he fumbles with the task until you take pity on him and do it yourself. “You’re, um...you’re really pretty,” he mumbles, unable to take his eyes off you.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you joke, and earn a nervous laugh in return. “Come here,” you insist, guiding his hand up to your chest. “You should touch me.” Natsuo moves cautiously, squeezing your breast gently like he’s afraid he’ll break you. His fingers tease against your nipple and you sigh. “I like it, do that again.” He’s eager to please, and before long both your nipples perk up stiff and sensitive from his touch. 

Your kisses have gotten more heated, and with all the distractions he hasn’t noticed your own hands working at his pants until you’re able to get the zipper down and palm him through his underwear. He lets out a choked gasp and you give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. “If you wanna stop, let me know. Alright?”

“I don’t wanna stop,” he blurts out before you can finish the sentence. You can feel him hard and warm through the fabric and he quickly loses his focus he’s had on your chest as you touch him. You look up to his face and enjoy the sight of him, mouth open and a deeper blush on his cheeks, his eyes wide as he stares down at your moving hand. You plant a kiss on his neck, your lips brush over his hammering pulse and you can taste the sweat forming on his skin.

He makes the cutest little groans in the back of his throat as you work, and soon enough you’re impatient for more. Your fingers hook into the waistband of his underwear and tug them down to expose his dick for your attention and his body jolts so hard at the contact that you’re almost thrown off balance. “I’ve got you,” you coo soothingly. “Lemme take care of you, sweetheart.” He swallows hard and nods. He’s bigger than the boyfriends you had in high school; your thighs press together when you imagine how he’ll feel inside you. Your fingers wrap around his shaft and you begin stroking him, relishing the sound of him panting louder as you get to work. 

Natsuo isn’t quiet with his feelings, and you’re flattered to hear how much he loves your attention with every moan and whine from his mouth. “That’s good,” he huffs. “You're, uh. You’re so good, babe.” He ruts into your hand mindlessly, hungrier for this than either of you had expected, and you love every second of it. Your free hand runs through the soft hair at the back of his head and pulls him down to meet your lips again; his noises are muffled but still grow louder as you feel his hips stutter beneath your arm. You look down just in time to watch his cock twitch as he comes over your fingers, and he’s breathing hard when you meet his eyes. You wipe your messy hand off on your own pants and grin.

He clears his throat and tries to speak, but he’s cut off as you practically lunge toward him. “That was...so…fucking...hot,” you gush between kisses, trying to get the rest of your clothes off without pulling away from him. He’s dazed for a minute but his mind recovers when you lay back into your sheets and reach for him to join you. “Sooo…” You can’t help but feel a bit self conscious when he’s gawking at your naked body like that. “You think you might want more?”

He blinks, his frazzled brain needing an extra second to process the question. “Yeah,” he says slowly. He runs a hand up your leg and feels how invitingly warm your bare skin feels against his. “Whatever you want,” he insists, fingers tracing between your thighs almost curiously. “You got really wet,” he notices with surprise, and you almost giggle at his reaction. Didn’t he notice how much you enjoyed giving him that warm up? He prods lightly at your opening then circles your clit. Encouraged by your breathy response, he lets a finger press into your pussy and the way his name leaves your throat makes him thankful for every day of his life that’s lead to meeting you. You don’t need much help from him, another finger is quick to join the first and your voice is too sweet as you plead with him for more, more, more. You’re trying your best to let him have his fun now, but you’ve always been a little greedy.

“Natsuuu,” you whine, spreading the lips of your cunt to give him a perfect view of just how patient you/ve been so far. You’re dripping around his hand; when you look at him you can see precum starting to leak from the cock that’s just as excited to continue. “Enough teasing,” you demand. “I want it now.”

“Okay,” he agrees finally, and looks around your room. “Do you, y’know, have any-”

You’ve been waiting for this for weeks. “Yeah, in here!” You cut him off, a little too excited for your own dignity, and flail your arm towards the nearest drawer. You can’t reach into it from your position, but you’re able to scoot it open a few inches for him to blindly feel around and find the pack of condoms.

“Okay,” he says again. You watch him fumble with the box, you think it’s cute, and then he manages to tear the first condom entirely in half in his haste to get it out of the wrapper. “Shit!”

You meet each other’s eyes, and neither of you can keep from laughing at the situation. It eases the tension in your room a bit, you take it from him and get the next one open without issue. He’s only a little clumsy as he puts it on and settles between your legs, lining himself up just outside your waiting body. “Ready?” You nod, and he lets out a deep breath to calm his nerves before his dick pushes inside of you.

You’d be embarrassed at how needy you sound if Natsuo’s moan wasn’t absolutely obscene in comparison. His mouth is wide open gasping for air, face read and eyes screwed shut as he tries hard to control himself while he sinks deeper into your pussy. “Hey, you can move,” you offer and he follows, slipping partially out and thrusting back in a little faster than before. You were plenty ready for him, but there’s still a delicious stretch as he bottoms out inside you. You both need a second to catch your breaths; you to adjust to him filling you this much, him to contain this new, primal instinct to rut into you like a madman while you’re wrapped so perfectly around him. You drape your arms around his shoulders and give them a little squeeze. “It’s alright, Natsu. Go head,” you tell him with a smile.

He knows he’s a lot stronger than you, quirk or not, and still has enough sense to move slow at first. “You’re so warm,” he groans, his face buried in your neck as he gets familiar with your body. “Wanna stay here with you forever,” he mumbles in your ear.

Your hips buck up to meet his. “Me too, honey,” you sigh, running a hand through his tousled white hair. His cock rubs against a sensitive spot inside you and you cry out for him, only spurring him to move faster. “Mmm, Natsu. Don’t stop.”

Are you crazy? He couldn’t make himself stop if his life depended on it. He’d tell you as much, but all that comes out of his mouth are groans, and your name, and a jumble of pretty words complimenting you over and over. It’s sweet, but right now you’d much rather have his lips on you than singing your praises. Your fingers tangle in his hair and yank him back down until you can catch his lips with your own. Your arms tighten around him to bring his sweaty chest flush against yours; you can feel his heart pounding along with yours and run your hands soothingly over his back to ground him. You’re here for him, he remembers, and you’re not going anywhere.

You don’t think either of you expect that he’d last long this first time. He’s holding himself together well enough so far, and then you stretch one leg up over his hip to draw him even deeper into your welcoming cunt. Natsuo’s body shudders on top of you, breaking the kiss as his head snaps back and your name babbles out in so many precious little gasps. His dick throbs hard inside you, and even through the condom you know he’s coming as his thrusts gradually slow to a stop. You stare at each other, your face feeling just as hot as his looks and you grind your pelvis up against his before he loses concentration. “Huh?...Oh!” The lightbulb goes off in his mind. “Sorry, what can I do for you?”

You’re not too far from your own orgasm after helping him with his. “Here, just touch me,” you take his hand in yours and guide it down your stomach to your clit, you trust he can figure things out from here. Natsuo’s happy to provide, fingertips swirling around it with devoted attention and he’s soon rewarded with the feel of your pussy clenching like a vise around his spent cock still buried snugly inside you. “Natsuuuu,” you whimper out, and it’s a surprise that the sound of your voice like this, so breathless and sweet for him, doesn’t instantly get him hard again.

He pulls out of you slowly and tosses the condom in your trash can, then lays back down with his head on your chest. “Can we just stay like this for a while?” You murmur an approval and stroke his hair slowly while the two of you recover, sharing grins and cheerful little laughs whenever you meet each other’s eyes. “You’re really great, y’know that?”

You give him a peck on the cheek. “You too.” Eventually you move, using all your upper body strength to push him up off the bed with you to sit up. “It’s getting kinda late and I still need to shower,” you don’t miss the disappointed look he tries to hide, and wrap your fingers around his own. “Do you wanna stay the night? You don’t have class until 11 tomorrow, right? You’d have plenty of time to get back to your own dorm in the morning.”

You see him perk up immediately at the offer. “That sounds good, we can get coffee or something on the way there. My treat?”

It’s a fair trade, you’re going to insist on one of those fancy pastries with the creme filling for breakfast. Your legs are only slightly wobbly as you stand up to give him one last kiss and look for your towel. “Come shower with me,” you order, and he’s more than happy to obey. There’s such a light, airy feeling in his chest that not even the looming specter of a family dinner can spoil his mood now.

[volleychumps]

Hey so I've been dying out of stress lately (I nearly started crying) because of school and finals that are coming way to fast and I wanted to request like how the Karasuno boys would comfort their s/o (you don't have to tho)

Comforting a S/O who’s Stressed about Exams (w/ Karasuno)

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

Daichi

-okay who the fUck made his baby cry he wants to know 

-come on just let him talk to them 

- Enters your bedroom to see you on the verge of tears as you sat at your desk, freezing at the sight

- “Are you okay?” “Dai, why would you even ask that?” “...sorry.” 

- leans against your desk with a worried expression on is features, listening to your explanation on how high your anxiety was for the upcoming finals as his fingers swipe at the tears 

- As you speak, he maintains eye contact with you as he slowly closes your textbook, beginning to pickup stray pens and pencils and putting them in their respectable cups until you notice 

- “...Dai, what are you doing?” “Hm? Oh, don’t mind me- you’re just cut off for today.” 

- “I’m what” “You heard me. Come on.” 

- holds his hand out to you, gaze serious as ever as you look at him increduously, beginning to open your textbook back up 

- “Dai, I’m serious, I need to-” “Alright, so we’re doing this the hard way.” 

- deadass picks you up, sliding some easy slip ons over your bare feet before beginning to walk towards the exit of your house as he ignores your attempts to break free

- “This is kidnapping.” “That’s just an shorter word for giving you an opportunity to relax.” 

- Buys you ice cream and takes you window shopping in order to give you some fresh air, smiling a little when he sees how relaxed you become afterwards 

- Takes you home eventually, but leans his head on your shoulder while you study, giving you tips on how to do it with short intervals so you don’t run out of stamina 

- Forehead kisses here and there, allowing you to take naps on his lap while he reads through his own book for school, fingers running through your hair absent-mindedly, but that helps you relax too 

- so when you pass the exams, you’re walking up to Daichi in the halls with both arms raised

- “...what?” “I passed. Kidnap me.” 

- Doesn’t even question it before picking you up again, kissing you on the forehead 

- “That’s my girl.” 

Sugawara

- “You’re ignoring my calls because?” 

- You yelp, covering your mouth after doing so because you were seated in the library, your gray-haired boyfriend scaring you from behind with both hands on your shoulders before he pauses, catching sight of the brimming tears in your eyes

- “Wait, are you crying?!” 

- “Suga, say it a little louder. Australia might’ve missed it.” “Shoot, sorry...”

- Cautiously takes a seat next to you, eyes scanning over the material and frowns when he sees just how many practice problems you’ve completed 

- “It’s an important exam?” 

- When you nod, he rolls his eyes once, simply pulling you into his chest as his hand rests on the back of your head, when you try to pull away, he clicks his tongue 

- “Suga, I can’t-” “When you can’t hug your boyfriend because you think an exam that’s making you cry is more important, then we have a problem.” 

- Kisses around your face, including the loose tears that were strayed down your cheeks as you can’t help the laughs from slipping your throat 

- you blink as he’s suddenly shoving everything in your bag, ignoring your protests before kissing your cheek and bending his knees 

- “Alright, get on.” “Suga, no.”

- “Suga, yes. Come on, I look like an idiot crouching like this.” “And what if I said you always look like an idiot?” “Then I’d say I’m an idiot who’s in love with you. Now stop yapping.” 

- you roll your eyes as you awkwardly clamber onto Suga’s back, hearing his satisfied grunt when you do so

- “Perfect. Now, where would you like to go, little miss?” “...I think I’d like to be put down-” “Wrong answer!” 

- takes you on a stroll through the school courtyards, not letting you off his back despite the strange stares you were getting from students

- you quirk an eyebrow when he places you under a shaded tree, letting out a few hums as he begins to unpack your stuff for you

- “Suga, what-” “We’re going to have a study picnic. You missed my calls, I missed my lunch. No complaints!” 

- feeds you while you study, grinning at you when he tests you with flashcards, and high-fives you when you get it right 

- “Suga, I passed!!” “Well duh, goregous-” 

- Hugs you tightly as you melt into his embrace, his smile hidden in your hair 

- “Never doubted it for a second.” 

Asahi 

- “Asahi, please, not right now.” 

- poor baby was just trying to ask if you wanted him to walk you home from school, leaving the room with a frown when your tone seems annoyed 

-is halfway down the hallway because he doesn’t want to bother you before he pauses, and then spins on his heel back towards your classroom

- freezes when he sees you sitting alone in your empty class, hand covering your eyes as you sob freely, thinking everyone had gone home 

- “Y/N?” slowly reaches for your hand, flinching when you pull it away

- “A-Asahi, I thought I told you to go without me! Y-You don’t have to see me like...like-!”

- cuts you off with a bear hug, allowing you to cry into his shirt as his large arms embrace you 

- “I want to know when you’re feeling like this, okay?” when he finishes listening to your hiccuping explanation, he plops down in the seat next to you as you eye him questioningly

- gently leans your head towards his shoulder, shushing your protests and not allowing you to lift it 

- “Rest. Please? For me?” 

- so, in an empty classroom past school hours, you fell asleep on your large boyfriend’s shoulder to the sound of him writing

- smiles at you as you sleep, eyes scanning over the material before he realizes that he remembers the information on the exam you were about to take, seeing he was your senior 

- when you wake up a half hour later, you’re left in your seat with Asahi’s school coat draped around your shoulders, and a notebook with a sticky note on the front

- Look over these for now. I highlighted what was important. I’ll be back soon, I went to get you some tea and snacks <3

- when he slides the door to your classroom open, you tackle him in a hug, apologizing for being short with him earlier as he chuckles and pats the top of your head 

- “I’m glad I came back.” “...did you get me mochi?” “Of course I got you mochi.”

- so when you pass your exam with flying colors, you’re the one to poke your head into Asahi’s classroom as the bell rings, a bright grin on your face 

- “Want to walk me home?” “Nope, let’s go celebrate-”

-he plants a shy kiss on the top of your head as he swings his bag over his shoulder “-you earned it.” 

Nishinoya 

-Let’s be honest, he really can’t understand why you’d be so upset over an exam

- so when he catches sight of you in the middle of the courtyard from the second floor of the school, he’s darting towards you as fast as you can, holding you by your shoulders as he meets your eyes with widened ones 

- “D-did someone die?” “No!” “Did you get bitten in Animal Crossing?” “No.” “Are you dying?” 

- whines when you thump his head, your other hand wiping hastily at the tears in your eyes that he caught you with as you huff, turning back to your textbook as you begin your explanation 

- “...that’s why you’re crying? Babe, it’s just a test!” “To you, maybe. I seriously can’t fail, and I’ve been studying non-stop.” 

- frowns when he sees you going back to studying the tear-stained pages, sniffling quietly to yourself before he snatches the book from you, throwing it over his shoulder 

- “Noya what-?!” “Leave it. It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it.” 

- deadass pulls you away from the courtyard, hand clasped tightly in yours as you arrive in the gym used by the volleyball club 

- “Sh. No questions.” Puts a finger to your lips as he disappears and reappears with a cage full of balls 

- “Noya-” “Hup! What did I say?” 

- smirks at you as he puts a ball in your hand, making his way to the other side of the gym before crossing his arms cockily 

- “Hit it.” “What?” 

- “If you can manage to make me lose a receive, I’ll let you go do your nerd thing, or whatever.” “Noya-” “Babe, please just hit it.” 

- you sigh before tossing the ball lightly in the air and hitting it with your free hand dejectedly as it projects off to the side 

- “Wow, you suck.” “Yuu, I swear-” “Hit it again. Like you mean it.” 

- you don’t question the glint in his eye before grabbing another ball and hitting it again, this time with more force as Noya’s eyes gleam before receiving it easily, smirking all the while 

- “That’s more like it. Unless you can’t make me miss?” “...what the hell did you just say?” 

- as you hit more and more balls towards your boyfriend, beginning to stop questioning his antics you realize one thing: it felt good

- “Y/N!! I love you!!” he yells as his arms form a heart with his head, grinning at you cheekily as you laugh. “Hit that ball like it’s the exam! Come on!” 

- so you did, hitting many until you’re breathing heavily, arm beginning to become sore 

- “How do you feel?” Noya jogs up to you, wiping sweat from his brow before you grab the front of his shirt, pulling him in to kiss him feverishly, smiling when his lips move back against yours easily as his arms snake around your waist 

- “I feel amazing.” is what you whisper when you pull back, Noya running a full lap around the gym at top speed at the energy you gave him with your kiss 

- “Alright baby! Let’s get our study on!” “Our?” “As long as it’s with you, I’d most definitely jump into a volcano.” 

- picks up the tossed book in the courtyard, opening it seriously before pulling you in with his other arm, sitting criss-cross next to you as his eyes scan the pages 

- “Alright, so where are we?” “...english.” “Shit.” 

Tanaka

- Walks into your bedroom with his hands shoved in his pockets before he stalls at the sight, seeing you curled up on your bed with a textbook laying open at your side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks 

- Lifts his sleeve up his arm and passed his elbow as his expression darkens, hands gentle around your tear-stained cheeks as he lifts up your face to meet his deadly gaze

- “I want names, and I want them now.” 

- “Unless you can beat up an exam, babe, I can’t give you any.” “...huh?”

- plops down on your bed, facing you as his hand wipes at the tears on your cheeks before he sighs, pulling you into his chest gently

- “You scared me. I thought it was something serious-OW! Violence is never the answer!” “This is something serious to me, Tanaka!” 

- “...oh.” awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as you open your textbook back up, causing him to put it down again with an eyebrow quirked

- “Why are you going back to the very thing that made you cry?” “Because I have to, so gimme.” 

- deadass puts your textbook in an outstretched arm to where you couldn’t reach it, smirking when you land in his chest when trying to do so 

- throws the textbook on the ground as he relaxes into your bed, not letting you go despite your protests as he hugs you to his body, smiling when you finally relax

- “Isn’t this nice?” “...no.” “Oi, don’t lie. It won’t kill you to take a little break. So I’ll cuddle you, okay? What do you want, I’ll do anything for you.” 

- “Can I be the big spoon?” “...anything but one thing. I’ll do anything but one thing for you.” 

- groans when you win, becoming the small spoon to his girlfriend that absolutely had him won over completely

- “Do you feel better?” “Mm. Will you kiss me?” 

- cheeks turn hot immediately, turning towards you slightly before he turns back again 

- “...anything but two things-” “Tanaka, just shut up and kiss me.” 

- kisses you quickly after he sits the two of you up, placing a hand on the side of your cheek with reddened ones, rolling his eyes at your cheeky smile 

- “Well, at least now you’re smiling. Come, let Tanaka-sensei tutor you.” “...how about you be here for emotional support?” 

- “Rude, but I can do that too...are you sure? I think I’d make a great-” 

- “Oh, I’m sure.” “You answered too quickly.” 

Kageyama

- awkward boy doesn’t know how to react to ANYONE if there’s tears involved

- “She’s what?” “Y/N was crying in class today...” Yamaguchi puts his hands up in slight defense as Kageyama’s out the club door a split second later 

- manages to catch up with you halfway down your route from school, nose buried in your textbook as he easily jogs up to put a hand on your shoulder

- blue eyes widen when you lift your head up to meet him with tear-brimmed eyes, stress evident on your features as you weakly smile at him 

- “H-Hi Kageyama...” “What happened?” 

- Stiffens when you lay your head on his chest, feeling his heart rate go out of control as you explain the upcoming exam, and the toll it was taking on you

-barely heard any of it because he was internally freaking out, but got the gist of it

- “Ah.” “Yeah.” 

- stands there awkwardly as you manage to stop crying, still sniffling and hiccuping slightly as Kageyama hesitantly takes your hand in his 

- “...it’s just an exam. If it makes you feel any better I haven’t passed one all year.” 

- you stare at him for a second before laughing, causing your boyfriend to blush as his features turn accusing

- “what?” “No. I think it’s just cute. You’re cute.” 

- shit why did you need to go call him cute twice in one sentence

- “...do you want to go get something sweet?” “Sure. What about your club?” “It’s you. They have to understand if it’s you...” 

- “what was that?” “noTHing. what did you say?” “Uh, I didn’t say anything...”

- watches you happily eat the parfait he bought for you, feeling satisfied that you were mostly back to your usual self until he sees you opening your textbook back up, his hand reaching out to stop yours before he can realize it

- “What are you doing?” “I still have to-” “No. No exam is worth making yourself cry over.” 

- “But I-” “We’re on a date, aren’t we? Pay attention to me.” 

- clamps his mouth tight after the words come out, blushing at your look of surprise as he struggles to find the right words, watching as you slowly shut your textbook 

- “I didn’t-!” “Alright. I’ll pay attention to you.”

- “W-wai-” “Hm? Or I can go back to study-” “nO okay yes, pay attention to me.” 

- frustrated at your teasing before you giggle, stopping in surprise when his hand covers yours from across the table, ears pinkened 

- might as well damn you’ve stepped out of comfort zone twice today Kageyama

- “I...I’m glad you’re laughing.” 

- “What was that?” “I didn’t say anything, are you going crazy?” 

Hinata

- “Hinata get off of me.” “Not until you tell me why you’re crying. I will tickle you dammit.”

- the orange haired baby had burst into your room with the play from yesterday in hand, excited to watch it with you when you had looked up at him with red eyes and wetness down your cheeks

- pins your wrists to the bed, orange eyes serious as his hands begin to trace your sides, signalling he was about to start tickling you soon if you didn’t fess up

- “Who made you cry?” “No one.” 

- Hinata gettin kINKY as shit ngl 

- “The upcoming stress is giving me a bit of anxiety, that’s all.” you mumble in response to Hinata’s tilted head and look of questioning as he releases you, falling on to the side of the bed as he stares up at the ceiling by your side

- “Then let’s do it together.” “Hm?” 

- “I need to study too! Plus you’re waaay smarter than me, so maybe if you teach me, you’ll be able to do even better!” Sits up excitedly, pulling you into his lap as his orange eyes gleam

- “Whaddya say?” “I...that’s not a bad idea.” You blush when Hinata rests his chin on your shoulder, seeming to be deep in thought as he plays with your fingers

- “What are you thinking about?” “How to make the exam makers suffer because they made my baby sad.” 

- “HinATA-” “Joking. It was a joke.” 

- studies with you brightly, not letting a wrong answer bring the mood down as he simply punishes you with tickles, willing you not to get the answer wrong or you’ll face his wrath 

- “u-uh, a comma?” “Nope! Come here!” “Hinata please-!” 

- laughs when you let out a shriek of laughter, pausing when your hands find the sides of his jaw, your eyes looking up at him lovingly 

- blushes when you lean up to kiss him once on the lips, using the opportunity to break out of his hold 

- “T-That’s cheating!” “I call it, using my resources.” 

- “How about this, for every answer you get right, I’ll kiss you.” he shyly states, looking off to the side as you grin at his cuteness

- “You’re on, love.” “Better not get it wrong!”

Tsukishima

- “I left for three minutes, did you miss me that much?” 

- was studying with you in his living room in his empty house, leaving to use the bathroom and grab you a drink only to return to the scene before him 

- you were staring down at your textbook with tears in your eyes, brows furrowed in confusion as you lift your head to meet the blank stare of your boyfriend

- “N-no...I just realized how close the exams were. It’s stressful...” 

-says nothing as he sits next to your trembling figure, placing the cold can of melon juice on the table in front of you silently

- “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel-!” “I’ll listen. You have five minutes.” 

- stares straight ahead as you hiccup through your explanation of worries, turning his head towards you when he’s met with silence 

- “You finished?” “Y-yeah...” 

- pops your can of melon juice, holding it out to you as you stare at it in confusion

- “Drink.” 

- Watches as you down half the can, feeling refreshed as he takes the can and drinks the rest, setting the empty drink on the table

- “Now take a deep breath.” 

- didn’t expect for you to start panicking again and runs a hand through his blonde hair before hesitating

- blonde baby isn’t good at affection

- but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it, he just feels better when you’re the one to initiate it 

- puts a single hand on the top of your head, looking off in the opposite direction as he brings his knees to his chest 

- “Don’t cry. It makes me feel weird.” 

- looks back and sweat drops, only to see you gazing up at him with a look that screamed you’ve never done this before wtf before retracting his hand hastily 

- “Are you tired?” He changes the topic quickly, and you bite your lip before nodding once. “Can I...lay on you?” 

- shit why did you need to ask him he would’ve been fine if you just did it

- looks off to the side again before nodding once, feeling blood rush to his cheeks when your head is suddenly in his lap, causing the tall boy to have to steady his breathing 

- “Tsukki?” “What.” “You’re really good to me...you know?” 

- begins to play with the ends of your hair as your eyes droop closed, carefully placing his earbuds in your ears and selecting a soft music selection as you fall asleep, ensuring you can’t hear him 

- “The feeling’s mutual.” “...hm?” 

- “I said shut up and go to sleep. We’ll continue when you wake up.” 

Yamaguchi

- “Y/N, you’re mom let me- whoa. Hey, are you crying?” “No Yama, I’m not.” 

- Sits his bike helmet down slowly before approaching your frustrated figure, your hands clenched through your hair as you shuffle through the strewn papers, eyes brimmed with tears 

- “Are you okay?” “Do I look okay?! Exams are within the next week, and no matter how much I study, I-” 

- listens to you rant as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, flinching when your voice raises octaves as if accusing him until you come to a sudden halt

- “Yama, I...” “No. Continue. Let it out, it’s okay.” 

- When your boyfriend smiles his sweet smile towards you, your throat becomes choked up as your arms reach weakly out 

- Hugs you immediately, smiling when you bury your face in his shirt from your sitting position 

- “I-I’m sorry...” “Nope. None of that...do you know how you can make it up to me, though?” “Hm?” 

- gently turns off the lamp that lit up your desk space, putting all the papers in one neat pile before tugging you out of your chair 

- “Where are we going?” “We’ll figure it out when we get there.” 

- Straps his jacket helmet on you tightly as he perches you on the back of his bike, ensuring you were okay with sitting with both legs to the side before kissing your forehead before fastening the strap

- “Yama, I hope we’re going to a library or something-” “Nope! Nice try, though.” 

- “Hold on tight, Y/N.” as he wraps your arms around the middle of his body, grinning when he feels you tighten your grip before he begins to move his legs to begin cycling 

- the fresh air calms you down immediately, and you close your eyes and lay your head against Yamaguchi’s back peacefully as you enjoy the ride

- “How do you feel?” “Better. Lots.” 

- stops cycling in front of your favorite food stand, resting his bike against a rest stop as he approaches you to unfasten the helmet

- “Hey, Yama.” “Yes, Y/N?” 

- was not expecting for you to reach your lips up to meet his, causing a blush to spread over his freckled cheeks when you keep him there with your hand

- “...I seriously need to study.” “Bribing me with kisses won’t work.” 

- “What if I did it again...?” “I love you, but no. How about I kiss you anyways?” 

- “I mean, if you want.” “Did you just play me?” “Like a fiddle.” 

- Rolls his eyes before he kisses you again, you still perched on his bike as he uses the straps on your helmet to pull you in 

- Exams should come sooner, tbh 

[3pirouette]

Fic: Virtual Insanity: Career Opportunities (1/1)

Title: Virtual Insanity: Career Opportunities By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: It’s career day on Mr. Roger’s Zoom class, and Peggy needs to come up with something, quick. Sequel to Virtual Insanity.

Chapter A/N: I needed to write something fluffy and I’ve been DYING to find a way to get back to this little universe. This satisfies the “Sharon Carter” square for my Steggy Bingo. (We’re not talking about FATWS/CAATWS right now. I can’t. I just can’t.)

~*~

Don’t be mad at me.

The text itself was fairly innocuous, but her brain started to race, anyway. Peggy’s fingers flew over the keyboard, texting back: Is there a reason I should be?

She stared at the phone screen, waiting while the three little dots that meant he was typing appeared and disappeared twice over. Now she was worried.

“Aunt Peggy?” Sharon’s voice carried through her small apartment.

Peggy hummed a question in her closed mouth as the girl took off her headphones and bounded towards her, but the phone vibrated in her hands and pulled her attention back.

The Principal decided to observe me today instead of Thursday. Said he wanted to see a more interactive lesson plan, so I had to switch things up on short notice. I swear I was going to give you a heads up.

Before she could ask him anything else, Sharon sat herself next to Peggy at the tiny kitchen table, her notebook and pencil in hand. “Mr. Rogers gave us an assignment and I have thirty minutes to do it before I have to go back to my class and talk to them about it.”

Peggy smiled tight, the girl missing the tension in her sigh. “Oh? And what is the assignment?”

Sharon smiled. “I need to ask you questions about what you do for work.”

Peggy nodded, her mind racing as she tried to come up with what she was going to tell her niece. Not sure how you’ll do with the principal, she texted Steve, but that promotion to boyfriend you were looking for might be in serious jeopardy.

She waited a second then sent him a winking emoji, just to lighten up the mood. Having gotten to know Steve as well as she had over the last few weeks, she knew he might think her serious.

“Alright,” Peggy turned and faced Sharon, “how can I help?”

Sharon smiled and wiggled herself around in the chair, picking up her pencil before turning seriously to Peggy. “What do you do for a job?”

The honest answer would have been that she was making an obscene amount of money online by bouncing around her house doing chores in lingerie. That was not, however, the answer she could give to Sharon. “Well,” she bit the corner of her thumbnail and turned her phone over, not wanting to read the text that had just popped up from Steve, “I used to work for a company that helped other companies…” Peggy sighed, she wasn’t sure how to explain corporate espionage to Sharon, either.

Sharon looked up. “What did you do there? How did you help other companies?”

Peggy tapped her nails on the counter nervously, trying to come up with a good example. “Well, the company I worked for helped businesses keep secrets. For instance, you know how that chicken you like always says there are eleven secret herbs and spices?”

Sharon nodded. “Kentucky Fried Chicken!”

Peggy laughed a little. “Yes, well, those eleven are a secret for a reason. It’s what makes the chicken taste good to you.” Peggy leaned in dramatically and Sharon’s eyes widened. “But if everyone knew the secret, anyone who wanted to could make their chicken taste like that, and then that man with the silly bowtie—”

“Colonel Sanders,” Sharon interjected as she made some notes.

“Yes, he would have a hard time making money from the recipe he developed because it wasn’t a secret anymore. I helped other companies keep their secrets.” Peggy smiled to herself as the girl wrote furiously, satisfied. She wasn’t sure if she’d managed to make her job understandable to an 8-year-old, but it was close enough for now.

Sharon stared at her seriously. “And did you get to know the secrets or do you just have to stop other people from finding out?”

“Sometimes I got to know them, but most of the time I just had to help hide them, or help the company have enough security.”

Peggy’s stress melted away as Sharon asked her question after question and she was able to answer honestly, if not a little vaguely, for the next fifteen minutes. When she ran out of questions, Peggy cut her up an apple and put that and a spoonful of peanut butter on a plate for her at the table, where she waited for her class to start again with her snack.

Finally, she picked up her phone again.

I am so, so sorry. Really, I am. It was planned for Friday. I was going to tell you on Facetime tomorrow. I’ll have her go last. Billy Ryan can TALK. I’ll just let that kid go and maybe we’ll run out of time. Principal Clark won’t know the difference.

Peggy smiled, letting her fingers fly over the keyboard. Did you not see the ;)? It’s fine, and I’m not upset. Good luck on your evaluation and call me when it’s over. She paused for a second, watching Sharon put on her headphones and knowing her texts wouldn’t get an answer until their next break.

Peggy pulled out her own laptop and reviewed her e-mails. She was, in point of fact, looking for a new job. While the Only Fans was a surprising source of a lot of income, she was missing the excitement of her old field. There still weren’t many jobs to go around, but she found new ones each day and applied. Talking to Sharon, however coded, made her miss the day to day of corporate espionage: finding new ways to secure and protect trade secrets, while simultaneously trying to extract others. It had been challenging and thrilling work, and she missed it. While there was something to be said for the ease of her newest endeavors, it wasn’t the challenge she wanted or needed.

She smiled over the edge of her laptop as Sharon asked a question about dogs. Seemed a parent was a trainer or a vet of some sort. She could just barely see the screen from where she was, the Brady Bunch like squares filled with smiling little faces as they talked and asked questions. Steve was sitting in his own square in the upper right corner, smiling away as he listened intently and there was a fairly neutral man in the bottom left she assumed was Mr. Clark. She’d heard a bit about the administrator, but not enough to have an opinion on the man.

She posted her resume on a job-hunting site and crossed her fingers yet again. Six months of getting dressed up for a camera was enough for her. She wanted more.

More from a job, and more from Steve.  

They’d been talking nearly every night, facetiming, too, and had met just once, socially distanced, in the park in the fall for lunch. His mother, who lived in the apartment next to him and that he took care of, was considered high risk. He’d been apologetic, but careful about how and when he went out, and it was something she appreciated about him. She’d asked him, quite seriously, to be her steady significant other, but he’d flat out refused until he could take her out on a proper date. It was a conversation that had both made her fall a little more in love with him and completely frustrated her at the same time.

He was getting his second dose of the vaccine next week, and she was scheduled for a week after that. She already knew exactly which dress she was going to wear when that fourteen-day waiting period was up.

It was red and tight and screamed anything but staying socially distant.

She was daydreaming, one she had often, about pushing him back on that desk of his and straddling him, her dress riding up her thighs as his hands followed, kissing him and laying him down and taking him right there, when Sharon’s voice rang out loudly in the room.

“Ok. So, my Mom and Dad are at work, but I do school with my Aunt Peggy so I asked her the questions.” Peggy looked down at her watch. They had only ten minutes left in the morning session before lunch, but apparently that was enough for one more kid. Stupid Billy Ryan. Peggy closed her email and moved her laptop, listening. “So, my Aunt Peggy lost her job, which is why she can watch me, but before that she had a job she was really good at and she really liked. She worked for a company that I’m not allowed to tell you the name of, but for her job…”

Sharon took a deep breath and leaned into the screen. “For her job, she protects the recipe for KFC chicken.”

Peggy’s head fell in her hands as she heard the gasps of excitement from the kids. She couldn’t believe, after twenty minutes of questions, that was what the girl had understood.

“Sometimes, she protects the chickens. And sometimes, she tries to get the recipes from other places. She didn’t tell me exactly, but I think I guessed it and she just couldn’t say.”

~*~

Peggy laid back against the pillows, wine in hand, waiting for Steve to pick up his facetime. She’d just finished a short online session. Her heart hadn’t been in it, but she’d needed something to do while Steve was finishing his review with the principal after Sharon had been picked up.

His face popped on the screen and he wasted no time, slyly smiling. “So, you protect the KFC recipe?” She just shook her head, but he laughed. “I mean, I gave you a solid five minutes, you couldn’t come up with anything better?”

Peggy laughed loudly at that, leaning back into the pillows. “I swear, I did not tell that child I protected the KFC recipe.”

Steve lifted his phone and moved around his apartment, pulling a beer out of the fridge and sitting heavily on his couch before he set his phone on the table. “So, what did you tell her, exactly?”

“The truth!” Peggy sat up, pulling her robe tight around her. “I mean, how do you describe corporate espionage to an eight-year-old?”

“Corporate espionage?” Steve almost choked on his mouthful of beer. He sat up, eyes still wide with surprise. “You went from corporate espionage to an Only Fans?”

Peggy shrugged. “I wasn’t in IT. When everyone started working from home the demand was in IT because they had to lock down computer systems and access codes.” She sat up and took a long drink of her wine. “Quite frankly it was a move that was coming, anyway. More and more information is just digital.”

“So, uh,” Steve’s fingers played with the label on his bottle, “So you did what, exactly?”

Peggy bit her bottom lip and bent towards the camera. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” she purred out.

Steve feigned getting hit, grabbing his chest and falling back. “Ouch, Aunt Peggy.”

She hummed at him, humoring his silliness while she played with her glass. She sighed. “I think my favorite part was where she literally told the children I protect the chickens. As if I were a farmer out there with a pitch fork keeping coyotes away!”

Steve started laughing far harder than was necessary. “Oh, I am getting the best mental image.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and laid back in the bed. “Oh? Do tell.”

“I’m thinking…” He smiled, took a deep breath and leaned back, his eyes sparkling. Little Daisy Duke short shorts, maybe a tied up plaid shirt, some dirty cowboy boots…” Steve drifted off closing his eyes, his smile growing wider.

Peggy laughed. “Oh really? Should I put my hair in pigtails, too?”

His head popped up, a guilty look crossing his features. “Well, I mean…”

She bit her lip at his stammering. “Your image of me protecting chickens and my image of me protecting chickens are vastly different images.”

Steve could only shrug.

~*~

The link that she texted him wasn’t familiar, but he trusted her by now. He clicked it, ready for anything.

When the video connected his jaw dropped.  

Peggy, in her shortest jean shorts and a tied up red gingham shirt he was sure was so small it must have been a handkerchief in a previous life, was standing in front of a green screened video of chickens in a chicken coop.

She smiled widely at him, putting on her best American accent. “Howdy, Partner!”

He laughed so hard he dropped his phone.

[lovelyirony]

fic title: I’m falling and the sun is blinding me to your faults

i wanted to do an au of this one, so presenting: tony and rhodey, but make it villainous. i think it’d be fun! 

James Rhodes is two things, first and foremost being that he is a businessman. 

People call him a villain. He doesn’t really think he’s that villainous. 

After all, he only took over New York. He left all the other states alone, so that has to mean something. He was gracious! 

He also wouldn’t consider himself a villain because everyone who works under him gets health insurance. They don’t complain that much, although he’s gotten some about the quality of the buffet on Fridays. 

Catering companies. Hit-or-miss, you know? 

There have been a couple of companies who try to stop him. Rivals that hate that his products are better and employees are happier, for one. Those are easy to dismiss. 

SHIELD is one company who tries, and fails. Repeatedly. It would be embarrassing, but Rhodes has respect for Agents Romanov and Hill, who have been the closest to breaking into his personal office. 

- 

The player that isn’t registering on the field is Tony Stark. Perhaps because he isn’t so much of a player on the field as an existing person who just happens to be on a field. Or a building. However you would like to imagine it. 

In other universes, he walks like he owns the world because he could buy up everything and still have money left over to get ice cream at the end of the day. 

In this universe, his father kicked him out of his house for various things, the most prominent being that Tony is rather partial to kissing guys and ladies, and that just simply won’t do. 

(Tony also stole enough money out of his bank account to buy a house and also start his own business without his knowledge, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s just a small drop in the ocean.) 

Tony made his own tech start-up business. He’s invented a few new things that hit the market discreetly, and he’s building up more and more clientele. He’s about to open another shop, and in all honesty he’s not worried about getting noticed. 

This is until Rhodes comes across an employee bragging about a new repair guy who makes computers run twice as fast, charges less than most repair shops, and looks mighty fine in a tank top.

The last reason is reason enough to visit. 

But also, to see who’s been fixing up Rhodes tech and can make it faster. He doesn’t know why he wouldn’t have just applied for a job. 

Tony is not expecting Rhodes to enter into his building. He has people who are walk-ins, but usually you would expect a villain to make an appointment. Or not, they are villains. 

“I heard that you’ve been improving my phones,” James says. He leans into Tony’s space. He smells quite nice, has a well-tailored suit, and Tony is trying very hard not to find him attractive. That’s not the sort of thing you could be focusing on. 

“You gonna sue me or something?” 

“No, I want to hire you.” 

Tony blinks. 

“Oh. No thank you.” 

Rhodes pulls back. 

“Why ‘no’?” 

“I like my shop just fine. And you have things well-handled.” 

“Could I consult you?” 

“You can’t afford me.” 

Rhodes grins. 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Of course I am. Can I get anything for you today, or did you just want to beg me to come work for you?” 

“Most people would never be this bold.” 

"What would they be? Terrified in your presence?” 

“More or less, yes. It’s what I prefer.” 

"I don’t cater to people’s preferences, it’s a character flaw and strength,” Tony quips. 

Rhodes smiles. 

It’s terrifyingly beautiful, really. Tony is at a loss for words. 

“I think I’m liking you, Stark.” 

“Tony. You don’t call me Stark. I don’t do the last name dynamic.” 

“Sweetheart, then. Not your last name.” 

“Pet names, seriously?” 

“Oh you got it, honey.” 

“Then go on, platypus,” Tony throws back. 

“Platypus? Really?” 

"Pet names are on the menu, honey bunch. Just try me.” 

Rhodes smiles, turning to exit. 

“I’ll be in touch, darling.” 

Tony leans against his desk, legs shaking underneath. 

There are two problems that he’s not sure how to solve. Here they are: 

1.) Rhodes now has Tony on his radar, which is probably bad because Tony will absolutely be used for world domination or whatever. 

2.) Tony doesn’t really mind as long as he gets to see Rhodes because goddamn. That man could get so many things, and he probably has. And Tony wouldn’t mind being one of those things if he played his cards right. 

But for now, Tony just wants to fix computers and maybe just buy a new brand of tea, but he’s honestly not sure. 

- 

Rhodes makes an appointment to meet. 

Of Fucking Course. 

Tony is not impressed, and is also not impressed that he comes in with a very expensive custom-made designer suit, whereas Tony is not sure the last time his pair of jeans got washed, and an old t-shirt that’s advertising an ice cream shop that is closed now. 

“You love to make an entrance all the time?” Tony asks. “What can I legally do for you?” 

“You’re assuming I’m making you do illegal things, babe?” 

“Yes, Rhodey.” 

“It’s Rhodes.” 

“Hm, maybe. But not to me. Rhodey. I wanna ruin your business impression.” 

Pepper snorts besides Rhodes, who is suitably impressed that Tony doesn’t give one flying fuck about the fact that he could destroy him at any point. 

“I’m ordering that on your next business card deal.” 

“I’ll fire you.” 

“You can’t find someone as competent as me, don’t even joke.” 

“I came here for an opportunity for you. You’ve managed to get some people’s computers to speed up so much. And I want you to do it with all of my employee’s computers.” 

“What, you couldn’t reverse-engineer it? See what I did for yourself?” 

Rhodey grins. 

“I never question a handsome man’s work, darling.” 

Tony turns red. 

“You’re really bad with professionalism, honeysop.” 

“What the hell is that?” 

“What, never heard about romance in the fifteenth century? Boring.” 

“Will you do the job or not?” 

“What are the terms, the conditions, and how much are you paying?” 

Pepper steps forward, a sizable stack of paperwork in her hands. 

The work would pay off the building. It would pay off his mortgage on his house. Hell, it would help a lot. He’d have extra to mess around and maybe go on a vacation. 

The downside is that he’s helping a villain get faster speed and better battery life with laptops. This could also mean he’d die, but honestly he was kind of expecting an early death. 

Rhodey assures him that he won’t die. 

“If anyone touches you, then they feel my wrath,” he says. His teeth glint underneath the lights. “And honey, no one ever likes feeling that.” 

“What, it isn’t all feather-light tickles?” 

“Touches a bit more than that.” 

There’s an unspoken story there. Rhodey’s grin goes from tight and eyes empty to refocusing on Tony and turning soft, genuine. 

“We can discuss the official plans over dinner.” 

“Dinner won’t work for me, I got plans tonight.” 

“A hot date?” 

"A special movie screening,” Tony says. “Can’t miss it. Maybe next time, or the next three times.” 

Rhodey smiles. 

“Maybe sometime.” 

“Maybe.” 

- 

Holy fuck.

Rhodes International has a local coffee shop on the lobby. A barista is a cheerful girl who has neon yellow hair greets him and asks if he wants a complimentary drink. 

“You...know who I am?” 

“Not in the slightest!” she says cheerily. “I have a memory thing where I remember everyone I ever meet and who I don’t meet. What kind of coffee guy are you?” 

“Um...you guys have mint syrup?” 

“Yup!” 

“Then I guess a peppermint latte?” 

“Coming right up!” 

So here is this girl humming what sounds suspiciously like the Winnie the Pooh song as she makes a drink, and that drink is amazing. 

Also, people are wearing, it seems, whatever outfit they want. There are some people talking, and two look to be dressed in professional business clothing, but the third guy they’re talking to is wearing ripped jeans and a tank top has the phrase of “I’m Just Existing on a Manifestation of Reality” emblazoned. 

It’s odd. 

“So glad you could make it, Tones,” Rhodey says. 

“Tones?” 

“What, too much?” 

“Tones sounds like you know me.” 

“And I don’t?” 

“What’s my favorite jam?” 

“Why jam?” 

“If you know someone well, you know their favorite type of jam.” 

“Orange marmalade?” 

“What the fuck do I look like, Paddington?” 

“You’re right, Paddington’s not near as sexy.” 

“This counts as harassment, right? This counts as harassment.” 

“Don’t have him sue us already, he’ll win,” Pepper says, breezing to their sides. God, she’s gorgeous. Casually dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse and acting like she doesn’t look like a goddess. Must be exhausting. “Tony, great to have you. Let me show you who you’re working with.” 

He has his own fancy office, a team that knows what they’re doing, and catered lunch. 

Catered lunch. It’s not even a Friday. 

“Friday’s are questionable,” Rhodey says. “Weird selection.” 

“You don’t wanna know,” says Intern Joe. 

That’s literally on his ID card. 

- 

Tony starts work. It’s not bad, not at all. He works in the mornings on the weekends and Mondays as well as Thursdays, and then sometimes does work from his own office. 

Rhodey is...nice. 

This is a bit unsettling, because Rhodey literally just threatened the president over an environmental bill not being accepted and currently all employees are only slightly scared. 

“This is just like three months ago,” says Janice The Badass. (Also on her ID card.) “Don’t worry, the government can’t do anything. They rely on us too heavily.” 

“For what?” 

“For safety.” 

“Not asking.” 

“Good, I’m not going to answer.” 

“Okay?” 

- 

It’s also weird that Rhodey checks in on him. He brings him coffee how he likes it, and he makes him sit down and try new foods with him. 

He’s not bad at conversational topics either. Tony’s used to talking, and he’s used to bad-talking on dates. This doesn’t come close. 

No, they talk about the differences of Star Trek and how much Tony hates specific brands of pens, and how Rhodey is a disaster when it comes to coordination of ties. 

“I don’t like ties,” he scowls. 

“Then why wear one?” 

“Pepper says they look nice.” 

“Why do you need to look nice?” 

“Most things are all about presentation.” 

“Ah, need to be taken seriously.” 

“Only at times when I’m facing government officials or weird corporate bosses.” 

“Aren’t you a corporate boss?” 

“I’m a corporate boss who is also an enemy of fellow corporate bosses. Weird thing.” 

“That’s...intriguing.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, how does that work?” Tony asks, popping a couple blueberries into his mouth. “How are you both the same and an enemy?” 

“Watch and learn, sugar. Watch and learn.” 

Tony is allowed on the next business meeting. Which, coincidentally, his old Uncle Obadiah is part of. 

This leads to rather undesired complications. 

-

“You’re working for a supervillain?” Obie practically yells. 

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Tony says. “I just work with computers.” 

“Besides if he wanted to work for a real supervillain, wouldn’t he be working for you?” Rhodey asks. 

He’s sitting in one of those rolling-chairs, and despite that, he made it his throne. He’s relaxed in it, perfectly at peace with the situation. All eyes are on him. 

“I’m not the one that the government is after.” 

“And yet I’m the one who’s successfully paid taxes. Where have yours gone, hm? Strip club in Vegas? Weapon sales in Afghanistan?” 

Obie freezes. 

Tony knows that when you freeze, it is your worst tell. 

“Does dad know?” 

This time, Rhodey turns towards him. He’s surprised. 

“We’ll discuss that later. But does Howard know, Obadiah?” 

“Howard is none of your concern.” 

“Oh my god, he is,” Rhodey says grinning. “You haven’t told him about your little back-door escapades. I wonder what would happen if I told him.” 

“You don’t want me as an enemy,” Obadiah says, shaking. He looks at Tony. “And you, boy, you just earned yourself a death sentence.” 

“Funny, Howard said the same thing when he kicked me out of the house,” Tony says as he’s checking his nails. Rhodey thinks he is in love. 

“Go ahead and try to get me as an enemy, see how well it works for you,” Rhodey says, pearly whites on display. “I took over the entire state of New York, leaving everyone in power allied with me. Plus, Tony hasn’t pushed his legacy from what I’ve seen, but what would happen if I just...let him talk? At the next press conference, perhaps.” 

Tony grins, and it’s dangerous. 

“Yeah Obie, what if I talked? I’m sure Howard’s disastrous attempt at fatherhood would be a real uptick in stock points.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Just watch. Just fucking watch,” Tony says. “I still know how to smile for the press, and I still remember all of my lessons for how to make sure anything is believable.” 

He shakes. 

Rhodey gets security. 

Tony visibly relaxes as Stane is led out of the building, and Rhodey smiles over at him. 

“What?” 

“You wanna grab dinner with me?” 

“Like as a casual dinner, or a date-dinner?” 

“How about both?” 

“Thank god, I can’t remember where my nice shoes are.” 

- 

Tony supposes it is odd to be out to dinner with one of the most-feared men in all of New York. 

But it was hard to fear him when he was currently trying to lick ice cream off the tip of his nose with no such luck. 

Or when Rhodey kisses him senseless on his doorstep and makes fun of the little gnome that he’s put outside, and Tony giggles and watches him leave in his fancy car, still leaning on his door. 

Oh, he’s got it bad. 

But he doesn’t mind. 

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Two

Bucky opened your car door and bowed slightly, teasing, “We’re gonna be late to the ball, Cinderella.”

You quirked an eyebrow but took the hand up he offered to get into the truck, “What ball?”

“You’ll see,” he said, grinning. He hoped that you liked what he had planned. He really did. 

‘Bucky,” you say, biting your lip.

“I promise, doll,” he said quietly, stepping up and kissing you softly, taking to opportunity to buckle your seat belt. “No cemeteries. Just all the tricks this old dog can remember.”

“Just your old tricks?” you ask, smiling a little. 

“Maybe some new ones,” he said winking, kissing you again. He hopped down and shut the door carefully taking a deep breath as he walked around the truck. It was going to be a bit of a drive but… As soon as he saw the place, he knew there was no better place to take you. He hadn’t even known places like this existed but… he could see you there. And he wanted to take you there. Somewhere you could feel… free. Without the constant bombsat of feelings and needs and wants tugging your attention this way and that. You’d described it to him once like being a teacher in a classroom full of really rowdy kids. Everyone needs or wants something but some people’s needs and wants are more urgent. Kid A broke his pencil but kid B has just stapled his homework to his forehead somehow. So how would you prioritize them? It’s a constant triage, trying to decide what to ignore and what to act on. 

To Bucky it just sounded like a maddening tangle. And even just thinking about it for too long made his head ache and his eyes water. It gave him a new appreciation for your need for silence.

When you claimed his hand, Bucky laced his fingers through yours and skimmed a kiss across your knuckles. “Where are we going?” you ask quietly, staring out the window absently. You’re thinking, he knows. Wandering down little rabbit holes in your head. 

“You and I,” he said, “Are going to go spend the night somewhere… Fun.”

“That was a suspicious pause,” you say suspiciously. 

Bucky grinned and glanced at you, hesitant to take his eyes off the road too long. “Well. I know it’ll be fun for me,” he teased, “Spoiling you within an inch of your life and making you deal with the fact that I love you for a solid 36 hours.”

“Buck-”

“Nope,” he teased, kissing your knuckles again, “I promise. It’s just going to be you and me and as many of your favorite things as I could cram into an overnight trip.”

“I didn’t pack a bag.”

“I packed it,” he said grinning, “I didn’t want to give you time to talk me out of it.”

You give him a look over the tops of your sunglasses and he mock scowls at you, “Listen, whipper snapper,” he scolds. “You’re going to have a good time… I hope. I just wanted you to get out of the tower for a while. You’ve been tired, baby. Tired and sad and I know you’ve not been eating because your stomach is always in knots. Stuff’s been hard. And you deserve a break. And I miss my girl.”

He squeezes your hand and smiles, “Just… relax? Let me do this. I haven’t gotten to do this kind of stuff for anyone before. At least not without us having to sign the hotel register pretending to be married.” He gives you a suggestive look and you can’t help it, you giggle. 

“Who’d I have to kill in a past life to get this lucky, huh?”

Bucky grinned so broadly his molars gleamed, “Well. I killed Hitler so-”

“You can’t remember that Sam and I had lunch plans but you remember that?”

“One time,” he protests but shuts his mouth with a soft snap when you giggle. It was good hearing that sound. It had been a little too scarce in the past couple of weeks. 

________

He turned down the road, thankful that he’d had to learn to read maps and memorize directions. Sure. The address wasn’t significant to you, but. He wanted you to be surprised. And he was enjoying deflecting your attempts to get information. You were excited. You sparkled with optimism and curiosity. You weren’t just going through the motions for him and he knew it. He could feel it. 

“Bucky, what-” 

He paused at the top of the drive and let you just take it in for a moment. It was a cottage, covered in ivy with a wrought iron fence. And magnolia trees shed petals that drifted lazily on the breeze. Willow trees bent like gnarled old women providing pools of shade. And beyond that, in the yard there was a hot tub and a fire pit. He looked at you and grinned. You looked stunned.

“How?”

“Google,” he said, kissing the hand he was holding. “And some money.”

“Bucky-”

“Before you start fussing at me about it being too much, just know. This is where we’re staying… but it isn’t it.”

“It’s so much,” you murmur. You aren’t sure what to say. Or how to act. After a lifetime of Birthdays that were mostly crying over photo albums and maybe some cake and a couple presents this… This is a lot. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “But- I’ve got a lot of birthdays to make up for… and a shit load of back pay burning a hole in my pocket.”

“But-” You can feel the backs of your eyes sting and he tilts your chin up gently.

“No pressure,” he reminds, wiping tears away and kissing the tip of your nose. “It’s just going to be us, hanging out here.”

“Okay,” you murmur. 

“Good girl,” he says softly, stealing a kiss and jumping out of the truck to open your door. 

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe, leaning against him as he walks you up the cobblestone path. 

Bucky doesn’t answer but he kisses your head as he walks you inside. It is intensely satisfying to see you so stunned. And he’s more than a little proud of himself for pulling this off and keeping the secret from you to pull it off. 

He follows you from room to room watching you be in something close to awe at the four-poster bed, the hot tub, and the champagne. 

“You thought of everything didn’t you?” you ask, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek as he opened a bottle of champagne. 

“I might have snooped just a little,” he admitted, “And Nat helped me fill in some blanks.”

“What’d you snoop in?” you ask, more curious than angry.

“Your phone when you were asleep,” he said grinning, “And I asked Sam if you’d ever told him any ideal date kind of things… He told me to ask Nat. But I tried Sam first because he’s known you longer.”

You nod and take the glass of champagne he offered you and plucked a chocolate-covered strawberry off the waiting plate. “Sneaky,” you scold. 

“Oh, baby. You don’t even know.” He chuckled and leaned down to kiss you, savoring the sweetness on your lips. 

“What-”

He held up a finger and pressed it to your lips, “Before you have time to work up a good worry, can I give you a present?”

“I-”

“Good,” and before you have time to think he steals a kiss and disappears through a door. You can hear him, talking softly and the rustle of cardboard and tissue. It was curious. New. Bucky didn’t usually talk to himself… It was a bad habit for someone who needed to be stealthy. 

You take a seat and take a nervous sip of your champagne taking a deep breath. You know Bucky means well. He crafted all of this just for you. To make sure you had a good day. But you can’t stop the gnawing feeling in your stomach. It was alien territory. 

“Doll?” Bucky said, holding a box. 

And you smile, snapping back to this instant like a rubber band. 

Bucky smiles a little. You look good in your sundress, lounging on the plush sofa and sipping a drink. It makes him feel warm all over. He wants this life for you. To come home from work and see you waiting for him. And he crosses the floor, putting the box in your lap. 

“I know I probably should have asked first but,” he stole a soft kiss as he knelt at your feet, “I saw this and… It was perfect.”

He watches you tilt your head and nudges you, “Open it,” he coaxes, “I’m not gonna tell you!”

You tug the ribbon on the box carefully and Bucky holds his breath. He really hopes this was the right choice. 

And the moment you set the lid aside and make a noise. The softest little noise. Not quite a coo and not quite a gasp, his heart does a backflip as you take the Aussie Shepherd puppy out of the box. 

 This time when you start to cry, he doesn’t have to wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad thing as you snuggle the ball of fluff that Bucky had fallen in love with the second she attacked his shoelaces.

[genesisrose74]

A/n: Alright if you can’t already figure out I am very much a simp for adorable sweethearts cause they’re just so cute!! Literally take all my uwus— anywho here’s some quarantine headcanons for best boy Izuku Midoriya! I might make quarantine hc’s a small series for the boys of Class 1-A because I had a really fun time writing this, but we’ll see! I included a bit of background at the beginning as well so enjoy!!

So you’re in Class 1-B at UA High, and the first time you officially met Izuku was at the sports festival

During the cavalry battle you had snagged points from Bakugo’s team and he was incredibly impressed with you despite the fact that your group fell short of making the one on one battle round

You may or may not have become intrigued with him during the obstacle race and your curiosity only grew from there

Monoma got upset with you because you were so focused on Izuku almost the entire festival

“Are you seriously fawning over our rivals?”

Cue you elbowing him in the side and scolding him for being so hostile (yes you and Kendo get along swimmingly)

When he saw you around later that day he asked you about your quirk and you were happy to talk with him! You offered to get ice cream while you walked and he was ecstatic because not only was your quirk awesome, but you were also one of the prettiest girls Izuku had ever seen and he was trying not to get too flustered

Poor boy basically got hounded by Monoma when he saw you two walking around the festival together and Kendo had to physically drag the blonde away while mustering out a handful of apologies

Y’all became good friends very quickly and you and Izuku would alternate eating with each other’s friend groups at lunch - the Dekusquad loves you

Izuku ended up meeting your parents unexpectedly after the forest training camp incident, as they worked as some of the head doctors at the hospital and were well acquainted with OFA (your dad attended UA in the support class at the same time Toshinori was enrolled!! He worked closely with Recovery Girl during his years there)

Izuku had stepped in to help you at the training camp during the attack, so your parents were thanking him constantly for protecting their daughter.

You ended up asking him out pretty soon after that because he was always so selfless and kind, not to mention the most adorable person you had ever met

Decided to keep it very lowkey just because of the class rivalry and all the craziness going on

Anyways when Miss ‘Rona starts up you’ve been dating for a few months now and Izuku’s mom and your parents each adore y’all already

So UA makes the announcement that students should stay at home for a while so that they can clean out the campus and make sure everything is safe for use, so that means everyone is moving out of the dorms for the time being

Your parents are worried because even though you all got tested and the results were negative, they don’t want to put you at risk as they’re traveling to and from the hospital each day, so Izuku’s mother being the sweetheart she is offers to have you stay at their place

So the Midoriya fam gets tested and all is good except that Izuku is freaking out

He knows it’s fine because there’s a guest room and you’ve been to his house on many, many occasions but oH My GoSH sHe’S bASiCalLy gOiNG tO LiVe wiTh mE

Sweet baby is a blushing mess when his mom tells him you’re coming over and he bolts to clean everything and make sure you’ll be comfortable

Folds your favorite hoodie that you steal all the time and puts it on the guest room bed…SWEETHEART

He knows you’re worried about your parents so he wants to do his best to make sure you’re alright

And let me just say that this child is best boy like?? Always tidies his room and helps Momma Midoriya out around the house! It’s the cutest thing ever

If you’re not the best with online classes he’s sat next to you on your bed and explaining stuff to you.

You get a question right? Nose kissies. No exceptions. You’re getting rewarded for your hard work

He’s super respectful of your space too — he will never enter your room or the bathroom without knocking and making sure you’re not caught off guard

But believe it or not this little broccoli gets into very clingy moods and will absolutely pull you into his side while he’s doing homework on the couch or when you’re making a snack in the kitchen.

Cuddles are mandatory at least three times a day, and when he gets this way you’re basically immobile the entire afternoon

P l e a s e kiss the scars on his hands I am begging you

Movie nights in his room all the time. Y’all eat up romantic comedies and literally anything Disney.

Sometimes you fall asleep on his chest during the movie and the boy c o m b u s t s at how completely adorable you look.

His mom has dozens of pictures of you both. She hardcore ships it.

Since y’all have classes at differing times, you’ll sometimes come into his room while he’s on a Zoom call and discreetly put a plate of snacks on his desk to keep him focused. He gives you the softest look whenever you do it’s so precious-

You try to avoid the camera at all costs though, since no one at school knows you’re both dating, let alone currently staying in the same house

One time his classmates asked who was in his room and he choked on air before sputtering out that it was his mother.

To his relief everyone believed it, but after he muted his mic again you were practically wheezing on the other side of the room at how freaked out he got

***

You knock lightly on Izuku’s bedroom door, quietly slipping in when you hear a faint “come in” from the other side. A plate of fruit is balanced in one hand while the other one closes the door behind you, and you are met with the sight of your boyfriend listening to another one of Aizawa’s lectures. He looks a bit tired, with his head propped up on his hand and pencil tapping on his desktop. You smiled to yourself, knowing that this time of the afternoon was around the middle of his daily classes and he was running out of steam - hence the snacks you brought.

You gently place the plate beside Izuku and glance at his screen to find his microphone off. He looks over to you with an appreciative smile before reaching for a piece of honeydew.

“How are you doing, baby?” you ask, giggling when he groans in exasperation.

“Staring at this screen for so long is hurting my brain,” he sighs as he pops the fruit into his mouth. “Thank you for the food.”

“Not a problem. My next class isn’t for another hour so if you need anything else let me know.”

The boy reaches out for your hand, and your eyes briefly flick to the camera to make sure you’re still out of view, but you let him lace his fingers with yours.

“Could you sit with me for a bit then?” he requests, looking up to you with pleading emerald eyes.

You smile softly at his behavior. “Only if I get to have some of this fruit plate.”

“Deal.”

You take up the space on the floor besides Izuku’s chair, leaning your head against his side. His computer’s camera angle only showed him from the shoulders up, and the aspiring pro hero absentmindedly brushed a hand through your hair as he focused back on the lecture. You pulled out your phone to keep yourself occupied while your boyfriend worked during the class, occasionally reaching out to snag another piece of fruit from atop his desk.

The room was filled with the comfortable sounds of pen against paper and the fan whirring softly overhead, and you perked your head up as Izuku answered a question Aizawa had asked a moment prior. The corners of his mouth raised into a small smile when he was deemed correct. You teasingly pressed a quick kiss to his side which caused him to jolt in surprise and glance over to you.

“What was that for?” he chuckled, a hint of a blush adorning his face.

“You got the question right,” you smiled back at him cheekily. “That’s your reward.”

He scoffed playfully. “You’re such a dork.”

“Maybe, but you like that I’m a dork.”

Izuku shook his head with a grin, grabbing a strawberry from the plate on his desk and holding it out to you. You gladly took a bite of the sweet fruit that had been sprinkled with bits of sugar.

“I think I deserve a slightly better prize for answering correctly, though,” he shrugged, lifting the strawberry to his mouth — that was now practically the same shade of red as his face.

“Oh yeah? What might that be?” you hummed, eyebrow arched.

“Not sure exactly. I was just thinking out loud.”

“Maybe I’ll kiss you properly when you’re not on a class Zoom call, weirdo.”

“Uh, hey Midoriya? Who are you talking to?”

Both yours and Izuku’s faces morphed into mortified realization at the voice coming from his computer.

He forgot to mute himself after answering Aizawa’s question, getting distracted by your antics. And everyone had just heard him. Flirting with you.

Welp.

The voice who had spoken and saved you two from further embarrassment belonged to Kaminari, and the rest of the class was quick to follow up with their own questions as they unmuted themselves one by one. Izuku looked at you with apologetic eyes, and you only let out a soft laugh and waved your hand nonchalantly, the initial shock of the situation already leaving you. The boy tilted his head in question: ‘want to say hello?’ You nodded in response, standing up so you were now in view of the computer’s camera.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” you laughed awkwardly, watching everyone’s screens as Class 1-A’s jaws dropped.

“Woah, you’re from Class 1-B right?” Kirishima spoke up. You nodded in affirmation.

“What’re you doing at Midoriya’s house?” Asui inquired.

“Midoriya, are you not exercising proper social distancing guidelines?” Iida chimed in, with his typical Class Representative concern.

Izuku was growing more flustered by the second as numerous students bombarded you with questions. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder which seemed to somewhat ease his embarrassment.

Aizawa had decided to use this opportunity to take a nap, saying he didn’t care what you students did so long as the class was done with this little predicament by the time he woke up. So now, the floor solely belonged to you both.

“Alrighty, so I’ll try to keep this short and quick,” you started, looking to Izuku with a small smile. “My parents are doctors at the local hospital and since they wanted to make sure I stayed healthy, I’m currently living at Izuku’s place. Yeah, we’ve been tested and are fine, and yes Iida, we’re still maintaining clean and healthy lifestyles around the house to play it safe. And finally, yes, we are dating. Pretty sure that covers it.”

“Like hell it does!” Mina exclaimed, leaning towards her camera excitedly. She had been missing some long awaited drama. “How long have you two been dating?”

“A handful of months now,” Izuku spoke up, hiding his burning face in your sweater.

“You’re joking! And you didn’t tell anyone?” Momo gasped, quite a fan of the occasional dramatics herself.

“It was kind of a crazy time after the whole summer camp fiasco, so we didn’t feel like bringing it up then would have been right,” you explained, patting the top of Izuku’s head. “After that, we just never really got around to saying anything.”

“So you’re telling me that Midoriya scored a hottie from 1-B and not the rest of us guys?” Mineta huffed. You laughed when Izuku secured his arms around your waist at the comment.

“Mineta, no,” he scolds, although his voice is muffled by the fabric of your clothing.

“Aww, I think someone’s properly embarrassed now,” you cooed. “I should probably be taking my leave then.”

“But there are so many more questions we could ask!” Mina whines, and a number of the students nod in agreement.

You giggle at the class’ curiosity. “Maybe another time. This might be all Zuku can take at the moment.”

The boy in question lifted his head to look at you, blush still alight on his freckled cheeks.

“Sorry about all this,” he apologizes.

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s all fine and done. Don’t even worry about it. We were going to let them know eventually.”

You take his face in your hands and press a kiss on Izuku’s forehead. He pouts, his eyes averted to his lap. “You missed.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you lean down to peck Izuku’s lips. The gesture is met with a chorus of awwing over the class Zoom call, only opposed by a gagging Bakugo and a salty Mineta.

“Alrighty, that’s enough public affection in front of your friends for today,” you joke, and you leave a furiously blushing Izuku to deal with the rest of the class on his own.

Safe to say you were drowned in cuddles and many, many kisses as soon as the call ended.

[strxnged]

WHEN IT'S DARK : chapter 1, absently

-> ARTIST!AKAASHI x GN!READER

Summary: Akaashi’s mental health has been failing since Bokuto left and he seems to be dismissing many of his abilities - especially his artistic talent. When you see advertisements for an art contest that you know he’d have in the bag, you get an idea.

WC: 2k

Warnings/content: descriptions of depression, Akaashi being somewhat OOC due to evident mental illness, angst + arguing, hopeful ending.

SERIES TAGLIST (OPEN!): @h-grangerstudies @bluefaeriefury @bokubonk @daddyjackfrost @snoozless @rain-kissed-clouds @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @milktyama @tanzaniiite @dai-tsukki-desu @kozu-zumi @borpcorp @astrqmi @tobi-momo @minadreams @kailleis-sunshine @serenitycushing @ddalgineun

NAVIGATION // SERIES MASTERLIST // CHAPTER 2​

Hearing his tone like this wasn’t new to you, but it hurt you anyways. Not that you’d tell him that. He knew.

“I just do it when I’m bored,” Akaashi sighed, fiddling with his pencil. He wouldn’t meet your eyes. “As I’ve told you multiple times.”

“I don’t think you should deprecate your ability like that,” you replied. “And I really think it’s a good…” You trailed off, already regretting having brought this up. It would be better if the two of you went back to silence.

“A good what?” he asked, eyebrows raised. He was waiting for you to continue. Well, at least he cared enough for that.

You took a deep breath. “I know you don’t pay attention, but there are posters all over the school. An art contest. It would be a good opportunity…”

Akaashi sighed again. “Y/N, can you let it go?”

You could almost envision his future — moving in with Bokuto, probably, to both save rent and keep an eye on his now graduated senior. Akaashi cared for him, too much sometimes. He had a lot of anxiety and tended to overthink things. This led to good decisions, but also bad days where he was clearly just exhausted. You had noticed that this had actually worsened since Bokuto graduated. You would have thought that being without someone so constantly energetic would make it easier for him to stay calm, but maybe the distance between him and his best friend, the change of habits, the loss of purpose, drove Akaashi to become more withdrawn than he had ever been. You were now lucky to hear a sarcastic comment from him, and half the time you could tell he was daydreaming.

The first month of his third year had been the hardest, of course. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other friends, you being the primary other, but it was clear he felt like he had a piece missing. And seeing him like this made you worry that he might become like how he was all those years ago, a sad, uninterested kid, who was more lost in his thoughts than you. The two of you had evolved together, but Bokuto made an even bigger difference.

You missed Bokuto, too. He had been a big part of your life; he was good at indirectly encouraging you just by showing you a smile or talking about something he loved. He wasn’t the best listener, but he was very caring and had been someone you looked up to a lot.

Akaashi just didn’t seem to care at this point who was in his life or what they thought of him. Sometimes you got the feeling that if you left him, he wouldn’t care. Not that you would ever leave him, despite the common suspicion of a one-sided friendship.

So as more girls found themselves attracted to his ‘brooding’ — which was really just lost in thought that, from what he occasionally shared with you, wasn’t as deep as it might appear — he grew even less trusting, even of you. Akaashi was concerned with everything these days; the weather, dates of month-off exams, the state of the volleyball team he had quit, and so much more. And he didn’t want to talk about any of it.

Akaashi wasn’t a mysterious guy. He just didn’t have anything to share.

You wished you knew how to re-establish that smile in his eyes that had faded so much. You wished you had the same effect on him as Bokuto had had.

Why couldn’t you be like Bokuto?

You glanced at Akaashi’s paper. He had been doing history questions — had been. He had begun to sketch a vine of flowers sprouting off the corner of the page, snaking around the first question of the paper. Facts about a world war were growing over. You didn’t say anything, watching his pencil move. Your dull response earlier to his harsher comment had abandoned the conversation and overtaken the room with silence; regret washed over you once again for bringing that contest up.

It wasn’t as if his art was something to be ashamed of. He was talented — and you didn’t believe in talent. You saw ability as something to be worked towards. But when you saw his drawings, his sketches, as if the last remnants of his self-expression. And it was so expressive — curled vines and flowers and hidden emotions falling onto the paper. Darkness illuminated by the residue of hope. A blank page brought to life.

He was drawing an eye right now, with a leaf in the place of a tear. You didn’t know where he got the ideas for his art, or how he managed to sketch it so effortlessly. It was clear his mind was elsewhere.

Your gaze drifted to his slender fingers gripping the pencil. Maybe you were talking about his hands when you said, “It’s pretty.”

He hummed slightly in response, and stopped drawing. “I should finish my questions.”

“Drawing a bit isn’t bad, you know. It’s good for stress and—”

He frowned at you. “Could you stop?” He picked up his eraser and your heart dropped to the floor as you watched him rub off the eye, the leaf, the beauty that he had created out of thin air.

It was as if you had pulled him back to reality — as if you had somehow reminded him that drawing was pointless, even though your intentions were the opposite. What would be next? Would you make him hate his appearance? His voice? What else was he going to start hiding, now that his humour and smiles were gone?

You knew you were overreacting. But you and Akaashi were similar — you both overthought things, you both had anxiety that increased when the other was upset. And — well, you had used to be able to boost each other’s moods, although that was clearly untrue now.

Your study evening continued, slowly. Akaashi helped you with a bit of your work, and you pointed out a few things to him. He didn’t draw anymore. Studying was — effective, these days. It wasn’t a bad thing that you were actually benefiting from spending time doing schoolwork with him, but it was strange. Because you used to get lost in deep conversations well into the early hours, your homework forgotten when his eyes met yours with curiosity about the world. Curiosity about you. Akaashi was good at asking questions and learning. He was always open to improving himself. He was fun to be around, though in a different way than maybe Bokuto was. Akaashi was naturally good-natured and observant.

He had been a lot of things, and you loved all of them. You knew they were all still a part of him… but all of those elements of him were in hiding. Everything was toned down. Quieter. Less colourful.

You might admit that your friendship with him was bland these days, but it was your fault. It was your fault for not being more like Bokuto, for not being able to bring out the joy that seemed so hidden most of the time now. Things hadn’t always been like this. Even when you met as kids, your connection was stronger than this. But now it was like a zombie of a relationship — there was nothing alive between you. Only a few shared moments, a few shared thoughts, a few shared meals. It was dead. You knew it was.

Things weren’t right. Things were off. But there wasn’t anything you could do but hang on. You had to support him, because if not you, then who would? Bokuto was gone, most of his friends had stopped associating with him, and everyone who now took an interest in him didn’t realize who he was or what he could be. You loved Akaashi — the kind of love, you didn’t worry about, because neither of you needed to worry about that right now — and you would never abandon him. You’d stay by his side through this. You’d help him find the light again.

At least, that had been your plan.

-✧-

That evening, you found something. It was when Akaashi had gotten up to make you tea — you had volunteered to do it instead, or with him, but he had shut you down. So you stood to stretch, your eyes wandering around his familiar room. You felt strange. He was so grumpy today. Was it because of what you had said about the contest?

You caught the sight of a paper sitting on a book on his bedside table. It was a drawing of a face, eyes with star-like streams of light spilling out — the rest of the face had the light streaming down it, dark shadows around the neck and below the lips. On the bottom right, you could see his signature in dark pencil. Something about it made your chest tighten.

Your mind went back to the contest you had seen advertiements for around the school, the one that you knew Akaashi wanted nothing to do with.

Draw your emotions! it had said. The more creative, the better! Submit by December 6, winners announced December 20!

You knew there had been more details, but you couldn’t remember them. It had been designed with red, yellow, and blue… indicating that they were probably looking for color. So… would this work? It was completely grayscale… but it had a good use of values and it was clear and it was evocative.

You had a week to convince him to submit his work.

He wouldn’t want you to. He didn’t even want you to see it. He treated his art like a private thing. Like it was just a small thing he did that was none of anyone’s business.

But Akaashi treated too much of his life like that now. He was hiding everything.

So if he didn’t want to submit any artwork, then you’d submit it for him.

Akaashi was re-entering the room with a cup of tea in each hand, setting one down for you. You had set down the drawing just in time, assuming the same listless pose you had had when he left. You studied his downcast eyes. Maybe you would never again be the spark that lit them up again… but you had to try. For both your sakes. You knew that would probably be hard on him. He’d probably get mad at you, in his quiet way. But maybe if he won — maybe if he won, he’d see how important his art could be. Maybe he’d see that he shouldn’t hide in the shadows anymore.

AN: uhafjhjsah guys it's just. it's just pain for the next 5 chapters. i finished rereading it and :/ wow am i okay

NAVIGATION // SERIES MASTERLIST // CHAPTER 2

[simwoman2002]

Hello again! 😊

Can I please request :

O- Opportunity

Arthur and Tilly

I'm being greedy now 😔 but I love them so much. Thank you again ❤️

Thank you so much for the request!!! And you’re not being greedy. I love these two, too! 🥰💗

Original List

  Arthur was never the opportunistic type, unlike Dutch and Hosea. Arthur was more of the type to simply go with the flow and provide necessary enforcement when the others found the golden—or green— sheen of monetary possibility or otherwise.

  But this time… He could not let this opportunity go to waste.

  It had been by complete accident that he found her sitting there by the lakeside upon a log as she gazed at the sunset during one of the painstakingly few breaks that Miss Grimshaw offered her.

  Tilly Jackson. A true and natural beauty she was as she perched there on that old, dry tree, the red and orange hues of the light hanging low in the sky shining gorgeously upon her skin. It gave her an almost otherworldly look as she bathed in the last small glimpses of the sun.

  His heart ached and squeezed painfully as he looked at her, and he immediately felt his hand moving to his satchel to withdraw his journal. After all, when Arthur saw something of such beauty and grandeur, he simply had to try to capture it.

  It seemed selfish, he knew, to try to preserve some piece of this gorgeousness for himself, but he found he truly could not quite resist.

  So he withdrew his journal and sat down on a nearby rock not too far from her spot so that he was close enough to capture her features but not near enough to pull her attention to his actions.

  He knew he would not be able to capture the beauty of the colors on her face, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he truly just wanted to take any opportunity he had to draw her.

  He began with the gentle slope of the bridge of her nose before drawing the smoothness of her forehead, using quick strokes of the pencil in order to capture simply a rough outline before he went back and refined the work. However, he took special care in the outline of her lips, wetting his own as he absently considered what hers might feel like upon them.

  Arthur soon found himself so immersed in the sketch that he lost track of everything else, his pencil recreating the astounding view before him.

  But before he knew it, he was almost yanked from this lovely world of his own by the best possible interruption. His eyes widened as he looked up at the young woman standing over him with her hands on her hips.

  “Huh?” he somewhat dumbly replied, his eyes wide as he looked at her. Unfortunately, though, almost as some sort of residual effect of his prior thoughts, his eyes immediately dropped from her eyes to her mouth. As soon as they did, though, he quickly moved them back into territory that was not quite so dangerous.

  However, as soon as he met her eyes, he realized that they were sparkling with mischief and something else that he could not quite identify.

  “Arthur, did you hear a thing I said?” she questioned, playful exasperation in her every word.

  “I’m sorry to say I did not,” he replied respectfully as always, dipping his head a little with the admission, and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly before smiling knowingly.

  “I asked if you were drawing me,” she repeated herself, a grin spreading across her face as she looked down at his journal. He flushed embarrassedly, trying to hide his face under his hat. Arthur knew he had been caught, but he still felt the need to at least preserve some shred of his dignity as he admitted his doings.

  “Yes, I was,” he confessed, and he dared not look up into her face in fear of what emotions he might see there.

  To his surprise, Arthur felt her presence beside him on his rock as she leaned her shoulder against him and the smell of flowery perfume wafted to his nose. It was generally a scent that he associated with Mary-Beth, and it was at that moment that he realized Tilly must have borrowed some from the bookish girl.

  “Can I see?” she questioned. He sighed deeply, figuring that there was no harm in letting her see the drawing now that she knew about it. So, Arthur tilted the book in her direction, allowing her to take it. She gently grabbed it and pulled it into her lap.

  Arthur braced himself, waiting on her verdict, even though he knew that she was far too kind to ever say anything negative about his depiction of her.

  “Arthur, it’s… It’s absolutely beautiful!” she breathily spoke, and he tilted his head a little so that while most of his face was still concealed by his hat, he could see her sweet face.

  To his complete surprise, Tilly appeared to be completely enamored by the drawing, her face alight with happiness and pure enthrallment. He had to admit, it was a beautiful look on her, and he could not help but stare in amazement.

  “You are an amazing artist, Arthur Morgan,” she smiled widely. He immediately blinked and coughed a little, scratching at the back of his neck as he grinned in a manner that more greatly resembled baring his teeth.

  “Well, now, Miss Jackson, I ain’t no artist. Just an old man with his pencils,” he told her with a small chuckle, and she furrowed her brow, smacking his arm lightly. He laughed a little more at her reaction.

  “Nonsense! It’s gorgeous, and you very well know it,” she bossily informed him, and he shook his head with a genuine smile.

  “Alright, your Majesty,” he huffed good-naturedly, and she smiled, puffing up a little as she stood up before him.

  “I do hereby decree that this is a beautiful drawing, and that you should think so, too,” she informed him in something that was supposed to resemble a British accent as she waved the journal at him in a scolding manner. It was truly terrible, but Arthur found it extremely endearing anyway.

  “Well, if you like it so much, why don’t you keep it?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow as he lifted his head to better look at her. Her eyes widened at his offer and she squeezed the journal a bit tighter in her hands.

  “Really?”

  “Of course, you seem to love it a lot more than I ever could,” he told her with a smile, nodding to her kindly. He angled his head downward a little as he looked at the sand by the lake.

  “Besides, it’s too pretty for me, anyway,” he mumbled under his breath as an afterthought.

  “Thank you, Arthur!!!” she excitedly spoke, and he looked up at her to reply.

  However, as soon as he did, she leaned down and kissed his cheek gently before hurrying off, sending his eyes flying wide open and his jaw slackening at the sudden occurrence. Once he had taken the feeling in, Arthur leaned forward, watching her go, and after a long moment, he shook his head.

  He may not have been opportunistic like Dutch or Hosea, but, boy, was he glad he took that opportunity.

[babyflossy]

ice cream | j.ww

gif credits to owner

pairing: wonwoo x reader

requested: yes! requests are still open mainly for nct, seventeen and ateez but i can probably write for others!

summary: when wonwoo’s babysitter cancels on him, you offer to look after his daughter despite the fact you have zero experience with children.

genre: single parents au, fluff

warnings: unedited

word count: 1.7k

when wonwoo's babysitter cancels on him at seven am on a thursday, he thinks his week can't get any worse. he's already had to dodge difficult clients and reschedule a whole day’s meetings after his three-year-old daughter, heejin, was sick and he had to stay home. that thought is proved incorrect, however, when he clips heejin into her car seat and he sees her bottom lip start to wobble. sighing loudly seems to only make the little girl more upset and before he can comfort her, the tears are already streaming down her face.

"hey, hey, hey," he soothes, wiping his fingers on the delicate skin under her eyes. "it's okay, sweetheart, daddy's bringing you to work today," wonwoo wracks his brain for something to cheer her up, at least until he gets to his office. "how about we get ice cream for lunch? would that cheer you up?"

he almost amazed at how ice cream seems to always solve heejin's toughest problems. warm relief floods his system as she stops sniffling and beams at him, her large eyes shining up at him.

"there we go, you have to be a good girl, though. can you do that for daddy?" she nods vigorously, clutching her fluffy bunny toy in her hands.

as it turns out, the ice cream promise can only work for so long, and as soon as wonwoo steps into the elevator, heejin clinging to his leg, her tears start falling again. he lifts her up, perching her on his hip as he tries to calm her cries. he wraps his arms tighter around her, pulling her into a comforting hug.

the last thing you expect to see when you're frantically trying to fit another consultation into wonwoo's schedule is a toddler in the office. let alone a toddler clung to your boss, crying into his neck. you freeze momentarily, confused, but are broken out of your stupor when the person on the other end of the phone starts shouting at you.

"i'm very sorry, mr montgomery, but mr jeon's schedule is completely full for the next week," the man in question shoots you an apologetic smile as he passes, trying not to laugh at the bewildered expression on your face. "i can fit you in for early next week, or i can defer you to another lawyer?"

after your borderline traumatic conversation, you decide to find wonwoo and ask him what the hell was going on. unsurprisingly, he's sat in his office, but instead of him in the chair behind his desk the little girl from earlier sits there, her body engulfed by the dark brown leather. she's still crying, her sobs getting louder and louder the longer you stand in his doorway. you're not sure if you should knock, you usually don't bother but the way he's crouched in front of her, offering her a reassuring smile, seems personal.

"i didn't know it was bring your child to work day," you start, walking a few steps inside the office before stopping, unsure how to act. "i would've brought my cat."

wonwoo chuckles and stands, accepting the slim brown file you hand him, flicking the first page open as you try not to stare at his child. you hadn't even been aware wonwoo had children until this moment. he still hasn't actually said it's his daughter, but the slope of her nose and the sparkle in her wide eyes confirm your suspicions.

"her babysitter cancelled this morning; the replacement is coming here at two." his words are distracted as he frowns at the busy day he has. he had been hoping it would be quick day so he could take heejin home and put a disney movie on for her to watch, maybe cook her favour food as a peace offering.

"ah, i see." you weren't quite sure why it was so jarring to find out wonwoo had kids. perhaps you should've known by the way your heart deflated slightly when you realised the kid must have a mother somewhere.

he looks up at you at your voice, frowning not unkindly. "i know it's inconvenient, but there was nowhere else she could go." the way he says it makes guilt flush through you and you immediately try to change your attitude.

"no, no, it's fine," the bags under his eyes don't do anything to make you feel better. "what's her name?"

"heejin," he smiles at her and you nearly melt, "she's nearly four. but she has a tendency to never stop crying when she starts. i think she's just scared."

walking up the chair, you crouch down and offer her your warmest smile, holding out your hand to her. "hi, heejin, my name's y/n, i work with your daddy." her cries stop, and she stares at you in what looks like confusion, but you were never good with kids. wonwoo holds his breath and waits for her to start screaming like she usually did with strangers, but he's shocked when heejin matches your smile. your eyes widen when her tiny hand clasps the ends of your fingers, an innocent giggle making your smile widen.

when you stand back up, the shock still on wonwoo's face makes you laugh. the file in his hand catches your eye again and you would regret if you didn't offer to help later. "do you want me to watch her for you? i can work in here, you have meetings to get to."

"you know i'm only making you do this because i'm desperate, right? i'm so sorry, i'll make sure you get a bonus for this," are the last words he says before he kisses heejin's forehead and rushes off to his first meeting, shooting you one last grateful smile on the way out.

once heejin had completely calmed down, she was quite easy to deal with. you were typing away on your laptop, replying to emails and starting to sort out the cases you and wonwoo would have to deal with over the next few weeks. heejin was sat on your lap, colouring a tiger you had printed off for her, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. thankfully, no one knocked on wonwoo's office door for the whole morning except mingyu, who apparently heejin already knew and loved.

the surprise on his face wore off quickly when she shouted in glee. "uncle mingyu!" she called, dropping the orange colouring pencil and waving her arms up for him. he shot you a questioning look over her head as he picked her up, throwing her up in and catching her a few times. you mouthed the words babysitter cancelled at him and he nodded in understanding.

"hello heejin-ah, what are you doing here?" mingyu's voice was theatrically positive and you had to stop yourself form laughing at your usually serious co-worker playing with a tiny little girl.

"daddy said i had to come to work with him, but then he promised me ice cream for lunch," you never thought ice cream could make a child so happy.

"well if he promised then i guess you should get excited," he patted her hair down as he sat perched on his waist, "are you having fun with y/n?"

the cold wash of nerves surprised you as you waited for her to answer. "yes!" you breathed a sigh of relief, "she showed me pictures of her kitten! daddy won't let me get a kitten!" mingyu raised an eyebrow at you but you pretended to be busy on your laptop.

after mingyu left, heejin went back to colouring, only raising her head to complain she was hungry every now and then. wonwoo's meeting was supposed to have finished five minutes ago, so you told her he was coming to stop her complaining.

when he finally did turn up his hair was dishevelled from raking his hand through it and his tie was loosened around his neck. heejin jumped from you lap and ran up to him, hugging her arms around the bottom of his leg. "hi, princess, you ready for ice cream?" he asked as he picked her up.

"can y/n come?" your eyes widened at her question and you could feel your cheeks heat up. wonwoo seemed just as surprised, giving her what you thought was a warning look. his eyes softened when she whined his name. "daddy, please?"

his eyebrows were raised to you in question and you stumbled over a response, unsure what you were supposed to say. "i wouldn't want to intrude–"

"nonsense, she's normally shy around strangers, so she must really like you." your cheeks blazed further at the thinly veiled compliment and you nodded.

heejin was distracted on the walk to the ice cream store, watching the people pass by, and you took the opportunity to ask what you had been burning to the whole day. "i didn't know you had kids," you started, thinking on how best to bring up the topic.

luckily you didn't have to explicitly ask. "i don't tell many people, i guess. her mother left as soon as she was born, it's always just been the two of us." nodding in understanding, you hated the way your heart felt that little bit lighter knowing he was still single. the worker asking for your orders saved you from thinking of an appropriate response.

finding a seat was easy as the shop was quite empty for lunchtime. wonwoo had insisted on paying for your ice cream, claiming it was repaying you for looking over heejin, even though you told him again and again you had enjoyed it. heejin was too focused on her ice cream to pay attention to either of you.

"so, uh," wonwoo started and you didn't fail to notice the slight pinking of his cheeks. "do you have anyone special at home?" his words were awkward, and he watched you try not to laugh.

"no, it's kinda difficult to meet people with such long hours."

he nodded in understanding, trying to calm his heartbeat, hating how he felt like a teenager about to ask out his crush. the ice cream on your spoon slipped back into the pot as you swirled it around, waiting with bated breath for his next words.

"did you want to maybe, go for dinner sometime?"

"i'd love that."

a/n: i haven’t written for seventeen since like september so this was really fun! and it made me miss them :(