#can’t believe I haven’t properly drawn the boys before

[esdithequeen]

Mirmulnir | Sahloknir | Nahagliiv | Vulsosviing

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Lost || Lab Rats: Elite Force ||

Chase meets a girl at the city’s art museum who strikes up a conversation with him but he’s reluctant. After what happened with Reese and Rodissius, he’s completely lost his will to trust others, especially random strangers that approach him. Little did he know that the two of you share that same fear

Pairing: Chase Davenport x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2K

A/N: I give you… soft Chase? Sort of soft Chase? Anyways, I haven’t properly written in a year and this is what I come back with first… Did I do good? I like it, and it feels different from everything I’ve written before, like more genuine. Anyways, enjoy and I hope you all liked it!

Chase stood in the Centium Art Museum, in front of a Monet painting that he’s already seen dozens of times. He wasn’t quite looking at the painting though, more like lost in his thoughts. Thinking about the things he came here to escape from but they only followed.

He wasn’t typically the type of person to come to an art museum, leaning more towards science. But it was quiet here, a place where he could come and collect his thoughts in peace. Somewhere where he could escape from his teammates and their pestering about things he didn’t want to talk about. Here, he could let go of himself and not worry about a single thing for just a few hours.

Plus, he was discovering a new side of himself, one that did enjoy the spoils of art. He liked the creativity and the sense of tranquility art brought. It taught him how to let go and be someone else besides Chase Davenport, bionic hero. To be himself rather than what others wanted or expected him to be. What he expected himself to be.

“Beautiful, isn’t it,” A voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts.

He turned his head to see a girl standing next to him, staring at the painting in front of. He tensed up just a bit, caution filling his being as he continued to look at the girl. She looked harmless, from her profile view he could see a delicate smile and gentle eyes. Nothing about her screamed threatening but that didn’t stop him from keeping his guard up.

The last girl he talked to also appeared non threatening and she ended up hurting him the most. So regardless of her appearance, he wasn’t about to let her or anything distract him. At least not like that, no, never again.

You tore your gaze away from the painting and turned your head to look at the boy. You noticed how he was just staring and your smile widened just a bit to show that you were friendly. He looked a little startled so perhaps you shouldn’t have snuck up on him.

“Sorry, I hadn’t meant to scare you. It’s not often I find someone admiring Monet’s work so deeply,” You told him.

“It’s fine, I just hadn’t noticed you there. But yes, his work is beautiful,” He replied, still weary.

“I’m {Name},” You introduced, turning full body to face him, hand outstretched in front of you.

He hesitated for a second before doing the same, softly grasping your hand in his and giving it a gentle shake. “Chase.”

“It’s nice to meet you Chase,” You replied.

You let your hand gently slip away from his before it fell behind your back. Your eyes casted downwards before shooting back up to meet his gaze, finding your heart beating a bit faster than usual. You couldn’t deny that he was attractive, more than you had expected him to be.

“Likewise,” He said shortly.

You broke your gaze from his and turned to look back at the painting, one you’ve already looked at hundreds of times. But each time you did, it was like looking at if for the first time. And you always managed to find something new in it every time you came back.

“So may I ask what brings you here?” You asked.

He didn’t reply right away, he was unsure of what to say without being so revealing. He could just say he liked art and the quiet atmosphere, nothing there that could give him away.

“I like the art and it’s quiet enough to think without interruption,” He told you.

“I can agree with you there. I love coming here and just getting lost in the art,” You said.

He hummed out in response, once again unsure of what to say or do. He was still trying to figure out what your plans were with him. After all, he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone actually being interested in him. Many people have proven that to him, that no one could actually like him.

“Would you like to get coffee or something?” You asked, interrupting his train of thought once again.

He thought about if for a second, trying to decipher any hidden meaning behind your words. He couldn’t tell with your bright smile and even brighter eyes if there was any. Although maybe this way, keeping you close, he could figure out your intentions before you could reveal them.

“Sure, coffee sounds good,” He replied, noticing how you seemed surprised.

“Okay, great! I know a coffee shop nearby,” You told him.

Before he knew it, you had led him out of the museum and down the streets of Centium City. He could only follow behind and listen to you promise that this place was great. There was something about your tone of voice that pulled at his heart. The way your voice was so light and airy, and didn’t miss a beat to your words. It was cheerful and bubbly yet soothing and calming, a certain je ne sais quoi if you will.

Before he knew it, the two of you were sat at a table, waiting for your drinks to called out. The two of you sat in silence for a bit, sitting across each other. Chase had his hands folded neatly on the table, slightly twiddling with his thumbs as he wondered if he should speak up. You took it upon yourself as you looked at him and spoke up, same tone in your voice as before but softer now that the two of you were indoors.

“So, besides art, what are some other things you like?” You asked, interested in getting to know him.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your question, this felt like some sort of interrogation tactic. Or maybe it was just you genuinely interested in him. Could he allow himself to believe that? Well, regardless of what you were trying to do, he needed to be a step ahead and make it seem like you had the upper hand in this.

“Well, its all things you probably wouldn’t be interested in,” He replied.

“Oh? And why is that?” You asked, raising an an eyebrow in amusement.

“No offense or anything but most people, especially girls—women—aren’t interested in what i’m interested in,” He explained, leaning back in his seat and shifting in it a bit. His heart raced a bit as he thought of what an idiot he must’ve sounded and looked like right now.

“Mm, enlighten me, pretend I’m someone who is typically interested in that sort of stuff,” You said, giving him this smile that made his heart skip a beat.

He leaned forward again, your words piquing his interest and his guard dropping a bit. “Science mainly, well its a lot more than that,” He started off, quick to go into a tangent of all the things science.

You listened closely and intently, a smile pulling at your lips as you noticed how excited he seemed. You leaned forward, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as he continued to talk. He looked up after a few minutes of rambling, stopping mid-sentence when he noticed you staring at him. He stopped altogether and leaned back in his chair, putting up his defenses once again as he mumbled.

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“Hm? No, no, I was just enjoying you ramble is all,” You told him.

His eyes widened a bit in shock before narrowing down at you. “Okay what’s your deal?”

You opened your mouth to speak before the voice of a barista calling out your drinks interrupted. “Hold that thought, I’ll go get our drinks.” You said before getting up and leaving him alone in his seat.

He sighed softly as he waited for you to come back, bouncing his leg in anticipation for your return. You came back a minute later, two mugs in hand as you set his drink down in front of him before taking your seat. He looked down at his drink before looking up at you, eyebrows still furrowed.

“What do you mean? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?” You asked, referring to his question from before.

“I mean, this, you, pretending to take an interest in me... What are you really up to?” He told you, his lips turning downwards in a frown.

“Pretending? Who said I was pretending?”

“Oh come on, you’re not really interested in what I have to say, are you?”

You frowned slightly and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why he thought this. “Well, I will say I’m not the biggest science buff... but I do like to learn and I like listening to what others have to say. Maybe I don’t fully understand everything you’re saying but it doesn’t mean you can’t teach me.”

“Alright fine, say all of that is true but why me? What makes me so interesting to listen to?” He asked.

You stayed silent for a bit, biting down on your lip and pulling it between your teeth before speaking up again. “You want the truth?” You asked back, watching as he gave you a short nod in yes. “Okay... Today wasn’t the first time I noticed you in the art museum. I’ve seen you a few other times, always so lost in thought... but its just that, you seem lost. Like you’re looking for an answer that you can’t quite reach...”

Chase was taken aback by your words, eyes widening a bit and leaning back; pushing his mug away a bit and folding his hands again, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Okay but what’s so meaningful about that? Why take an interest in it?” He questioned.

“Because I know what that feels like,” You answered all too quickly, eyes casting downwards and shying away a bit as you continued. “To search for something that should be right in front of you but isn’t. To feel like you’ve been set off balance and not knowing how to regain control. Guess I was drawn to you because of that.”

You kept your gaze down on your mug, hand wrapping around the handle and resting there as your thumb lightly caressed the rim. You bit down on your lip, feeling self-conscious now that you revealed a part of yourself that had meant to stay hidden. Chase looked down for a second before looking back up, his gaze softening from your words. He understood now why you approached him and why you’d been so adamant to get to know him. You two were one in the same, both had gotten hurt by someone or something and were looking for a way to mend yourselves.

“I’m sorry,” He spoke up, voice soft and sincere.

“Don’t be,” You said. “I would’ve been defensive too if I were you.”

You looked back up and offered him a warm smile, one he returned with the same warmth in it.

“Well, if I haven’t completely ruined this, I’d still like to get to know you,” He said, a hopeful tone in his voice.

You laughed lightly and smiled more, nodding your head a bit. “You haven’t ruined this at all and yes, I’d like that.”

He looked at you with bright eyes and gave you this wide, goofy grin. You spent the rest of that day, sitting in that little cafe, talking and getting to know each other. And for the first time in a long while, the two of you felt like you’d found someone you could trust again.

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[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. 

[mingishoe]

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾 | 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 [9]

Summary: Chapter 9 of Promise, San hasn’t seen you in so long and he’s really missing you… he’s just lucky you miss him too.

Genre: Smut, Social Media AU

Pairing: SwitchFem!Reader x Switch!San

Word Count: 2.9k

Smut Warning: dirty thoughts, masturbation (m&f), phone sex, praise, use of the word whore like once, reassurance for San, unprotected sex, marking kink, light breeding kink, cum play

a/n: You can probably read this with little confusion without the rest of the chapters, but it’d be nice if you’d check them out :)

You were so nervous! Today was the day that you were going to Hongjoong’s studio with Mingi and Jongo. You were pacing back and forth looking in the mirror, trying to decide if you should change or not.

What if Seonghwa was there? What would you do then? You can’t have that thrown on you all of a sudden! Maybe you shouldn’t go… Just as you were having a little internal crisis, your phone rang.

“Y/n- Y/n! Y-You’re going to meet us there right? I don’t think either of us are going to be able to meet him on our own… we need your support.” You listened to Jongho’s worried voice on the other end of her line.

“I think so- I mean Jongho I’m so nervous! I think I’m going to throw up.” You groaned loudly and took a deep breath.

“Okay… I’ll see you in a bit.” You agreed and hung up before you could put your phone in your pocket, it rang again. You looked at the phone and saw Sans's name. You looked at it for a second before you sighed and declined it.

San groaned and threw his phone in annoyance. He had never genuinely been annoyed or mad at you, but at this moment he was getting there. He missed you so much! He hadn’t seen you in forever, but it was partially his fault… he had purposefully been avoiding you.

He figured it was time to get over his pride at this point. He was so unbelievably horny. He was just going to put it that way. You always took care of him and he hasn’t talked to or seen you in like a couple of weeks.

San trailed his hand down in his sweats as he remembered the last time you were together. “I know I pegged you the other day.” He can’t believe you said that with everyone right there! I mean… you did- but that’s not for them to know!

Regardless, San couldn’t stop thinking about it. His cock was throbbing but he didn’t want to touch himself… He wanted you to help him. He looks at his phone and contemplates if he should call you again.

Before he could even fully decide, he grabbed his phone, and before he knew he was calling you. It rang for what felt like forever before he heard your voice, “Hello? San. What do you want? I’m busy…”

“Y-Y/n-” San heard a pause on the other end of the line before a door shut.

You were just about to walk out of your apartment when you answered San’s call. As soon as you heard San’s voice, that voice, you couldn’t resist, “San…”

Before you could get another word in, San’s desperate voice rang out, “Please?!”

You placed your things down and flopped down onto the sofa, “Of course my love. You know I can never say no to you. What’s wrong?”

San groaned at your condescending tone, “Stop. I don’t wanna play-”

San could hear the smirk in your voice, “I’m not playing lovely… I really don’t know. What do you want me to help you with?”

San let out a moan and you inhaled sharply, “I-I’m so horny Y/n!”

“Are you touching yourself Sannie?” You listened to San’s heavy breathing as he whined.

“Y-Yeah but-but I didn’t want to. Wanted you to touch me but you kept ignoring me!” San shakily spoke but he was getting tired of waiting. “Look, Y/n, I need you. I need you so much. Please. I need to cum.”

“Okay baby, I got you. Get undressed for me. Wish I could see how pretty you look right now. All desperate to be touched…” You made yourself more comfortable and your legs began to spread, making your dress fall above your hips.

San hums and his hand was shaking as he so badly wishes it was you who was touching him. He quickly stripped himself of his boxers and sweats, already shirtless from his previous touching. His voice was deep as he signaled he was done.

“Okay, Sannie. Close your eyes and imagine it’s me touching that pretty cock of yours.” San does as he’s told and his breathing was heavy as he listened to your soft voice, “You know San, I never get to praise you because you’re always such a little whore,” San lets out a loud moan as his hand is wrapped around his cock.“But you know what? You’ve been a good boy this week. You haven’t touched yourself have you?”

San’s whines are loud as you put him on speaker. Your fingers are drawing shapes on your inner thighs as you listen to all of San’s pretty noises and cries of, “Nonono- I haven’t! I’ve been a good boy for you!”

“Of course, baby. I know you have. You’re touching that pretty pink cock of yours, aren’t you? You have such a nice cock. A nice... big cock.” Your fingers trail underneath your panties and run them along your folds.

San mewled from the praise he was receiving, “Yeah? Do I fuck you well? I fuck you good don’t I?”

You could hear the loud squelching noise of San’s cum as he jerked himself off roughly, “Yeah, yeah you do. You fuck me so good. You’re the only one who makes me cum like that.”

Your finger begins to rub soft circles on your clit making you let out a soft moan as you finally relieve yourself from the week of stress since you’ve seen San.

“Y/n..?” San pauses his movements as his ears pick up the noise of your moan.

“Yes?”

“Are you touching yourself too?” That was the last straw for San.

“Yeah- yeah. But you know what? I wish it was you who was fucking me. I wish I could feel your big cock inside of me.” You listened as San let out drawn-out whine as he came.

You bit your lip as you imagined how pretty San looked as he came. Soft pleads of your name from San made your stomach tighten and your heart beat faster, “W-Wish you came inside me. Wish you- Wish you gave me your cum…”

Before San could even catch his breath he cried out, “Can I go over? I- I need to go over! Please!”

You paused for a minute to think about it but you couldn’t say no to him, “Okay… I’ll be waiting for you.”

“But Y/n…” you hummed softly, “Stop touching yourself. I wanna be the one to make you cum.”

You laughed softly at San before you agreed, “Better hurry then.” Before you could say anything else, you heard shuffling before the dial tone, signaling that San hung up.

You brought your hand away from your dripping pussy and wiped your fingers mindlessly on your dress. San doesn’t live too far away from you so you give him 10 minutes tops, but knowing him, he’ll be here in 5.

You sit there impatiently for only a few minutes before you suddenly remembered about Mingi and Jongho. Oh shit. They’re probably already there waiting for you.

You grab your phone and you’re about to call Mingi but before you press his contact, your front door swings open.

San practically runs up to you before he throws your phone to the side and picks you up. His lips immediately attach to your neck, “You better not have been speeding-“

San only hums as he’s more preoccupied with you. He sits down on your sofa and his arms wrap around you tightly, “I missed you so much… so so much

You push your chest into San’s, trying to get as close as possible, “It’s only been a week, you know.”

“Yeah but it’s been a long week-“ Sans lips trailed lower and lower to your cleavage and his free hand made its way in between your legs and cupped your pussy, “I can feel how wet you are.”

“Mhm. Told you I’d wait for you. Thought you wanted to make me cum?” You looked at San with innocent eyes and a tilted head.

San bit his lip harshly and pushed you off of him, “Fine. I’ll make you cum.” You smiled as San pulled your dress up before your panties were ripped off of you.

San fumbled with your dress before he huffed, “Take it off!” You laughed softly and gave San a cute peck before you unzipped your dress and swiftly pulled it off, leaving you in your matching bra and underwear.

As you were undressing, San was quickly doing the same. He was fumbling as he pulled his shirt off and his sweats to reveal his hard cock. San had been hard this entire time.

San nodded his head signaling for you to lean over the sofa. You and San switched places. Your chest was pressing against the back of the sofa and San was behind you gripping your hips tightly.

You bit your lip in anticipation as you felt San’s cock rub against your pussy, “San- please San.”

San rubbed your back gently before he swiftly pushed his cock inside of you. You cried out and gripped onto the sofa tightly.

San’s thrusts were gentle at first, wanting to savour the way you felt around him. San angled his hips up and you let out a loud moan, “R-Right there!”

San laughed teasingly before he adjusted himself and angled his hips differently making you huff out in annoyance. Stupid boy- he never listens to you!

“Fuck you-“ your head drops and you bite your lip as to not give any satisfaction to San.

“Fuck you? I am fucking you, and you seem to be enjoying it.” You rolled your eyes but the way you were clenching around San, trying so hard to keep him inside of you, it told how you were really feeling.

Suddenly San began to play with your clit lightly, making a loud drawn out whine come from your lips, “San- please?! Want you to fuck me good. Want you to fuck me properly with your big cock!”

San breathed in deeply before he positioned himself in a way that he could have some leverage to fuck you, “Okay darling. I’ll fuck you now.”

San had both of his hands gripping on your hips tightly as he finally began to fuck you like you wanted. Your entire body was tingling and it felt like it was on fire.

The sound of San’s pelvis slapping against your ass filled the room and you pathetically pushed back to meet San’s thrusts. It wasn’t your fault that you were so desperate. You hadn’t seen San in forever and you had stopped touching yourself in the middle of it just so you could wait for San.

“Does it feel good darling? Am I fucking you good?” San knew the answer to that question. He just wanted to hear it from you and you had no problem with feeding his ego a bit.

“Mhm- yeahyeah you fuck me so fucking good- feels so good! Such a nice b-big cock!” Your hand reached back to grab onto one of San’s and he holds onto yours gently with his thumb rubbing softly on your knuckles, a harsh contrast to the way he was fucking you.

San leans forward so his back is pressed against yours, making sure to have his lips as close to your ear as possible. With him so close you could hear and feel every one of his movements.

His breath was fanning against your neck and cheek and your eyes squeezed shut even tighter as you listened to San’s heavy breathing and deep grunts, “You feel so good. Such a good pussy for me to fuck.”

Moans were flowing uncontrollably at this point and you were holding onto San’s hand tightly, “Pleasepleaseplease I need- I need to cum S-San! It feels so good!”

San completely stopped his thrusts and started to grind into you. Your entire body tensed as with every movement, his cock brushed against your sweet spot.

You could tell San was starting to get impatient too when he suddenly straightened himself and pulled you up with him.

Your head was thrown over his shoulder and his lips gently kissed and sucked along your neck as he roughly thrusted into you.

Your hand was shaking as you brought one of his hands down in between your legs. You were so so close and you needed that one little thing to push you over the edge, “S-San! Gonna-I’m gonna-“ you got cut off and the both of you immediately paused.

Your mouth dropped open when you saw Mingi’s name flashing on your phone, “shitshitshit San- hold on.” You reached for your phone and San stopped you, “San it’s Mingi. I was supposed to meet him and Jongho at the studio-“

San let out an annoyed groan and you were honestly just as annoyed from the unintentional edging but you had suddenly remembered and you felt terrible, “H-Hello…?”

“Y/N what the fuck?!? Where are you?! It’s been like 30 minutes and me and Jongho have been waiting outside for like 10 minutes and Hongjoong keeps asking us where you are!” Mingi’s voice was loud and even San flinched from the tone of his voice.

“Mingi- shit I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you earlier- something came up. I’m really really sorry I couldn’t make it- can you tell Hongjoong that I’ll text him later?” Just as you were finishing your sentence, San started back his thrusts and touches to your clit.

You turned to give him a glare but he only smirked at you in response, “Yeah but- Y/n you said you were gonna be here!” You could hear how nervous Mingi was and you felt terrible you couldn’t be there to make him feel a little more at ease.

“Fuck!” San’s cock hit the right spot and suddenly you were about to cum again, “I-I know Mingi. I’m really sorry. I promise- ohmygod- I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You held the phone as far away from you as possible as you shoved your face into San’s neck as you whispered, “I’mgonnacum San- fuckfuckfuck!”

You could still hear Mingi talking so you knew he hadn’t heard you but a particularly hard thrust from San, you came. Your entire body was shaking and you bit down on San’s shoulder harshly in a pathetic attempt to muffle your moans.

San was doing the same. He was trying his best to contain his moans so Mingi wouldn’t hear him but he was close too. You were clenching so tightly around him and your pussy was desperately trying to suck his cock back inside of you every time he even slightly pulled out.

“So Y/n?” Your attention was suddenly brought back to Mingi who was on the phone, “Just promise that next time you’ll come.”

“O-Of course Mingi- I promise I’ll go to all of them from now on, okay?” You were being sincere, but you just wanted Mingi to hang up already.

“You better-“ Mingi laughed softly, “Okay, I gotta go. Hongjoong is calling us… Love you, bye.”

You quickly said bye back before San grabbed your phone out of your hand and threw it to the chair next to the sofa, “I’m gonna cum in you. Gonna give you my cum, okay?”

You nodded and shut your eyes so you could focus on every bit of San. Your body was still twitching and shaking as San was still thrusting inside of you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you and you were whining only driving San closer to cumming.

“Please San. Please give it to me! Want it so bad- I want your cum so so bad!” Your voice and moans were ringing in San’s ears and before he could give you any warning, his cum started filling you.

San’s head was thrown back and his eyebrows were furrowed as he just kept cuming. You took everything he gave you. Your pussy tried desperately to keep all of his cum inside of you but it started to drip outside of you and cover your thighs.

San was breathing harshly and he had cum harder than he had in a while, not even his orgasm earlier was half as good as this one. And as soon as he pulled out of you, his cum spilled out of you, dripping and staining your thighs.

San’s hand reached down and ran his fingers through your mixed cum and before you knew it, his fingers were in your mouth. You moaned around his fingers as you tasted his cum.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes as San continued to run his fingers through all the cum and switching between pushing it back inside of you or making you suck his cum off of his fingers.

Once San was satisfied, he stopped and gently kissed your forehead and cheeks before he finally kissed your lips, “Come on baby. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

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[cuttoothed]

For day 1 of @aspecarchivesweek for the prompt “wish”. Someday I will write something that isn’t jmart, but that day is not today.

Ace Martin character exploration; Jon/Martin; some Martin/OMC

Warnings: internalized homophobia (brief); internalized aphobia (ongoing); reference to having sex while intoxicated; reference to having sex reluctantly (though not coerced); outing of ace character in their absence

*

Martin spends a long time wishing he was normal.

It starts when he’s fourteen. Well, no, it starts much earlier than that, but it’s when he’s fourteen that the nebulous muddle of feelings coalesces into something impossible to ignore. That’s when all the boys and girls in his class start making eyes at each other while pretending they aren’t; start talking about who they’d like to snog behind the bushes at the bottom of the sports field, and Martin feels something twist in his stomach when he realizes that the person he’d like to be behind the bushes with is Stephen Dowling, who has dark hair and blue eyes and snaps gum between his teeth all day long.

Martin never says anything about it, of course, tries not to even think about it, but he knows it’s not normal. As if he needed one more weird thing about him along with all his sick mum and his jacket that pulls tight across his shoulders, the seams fraying because he needs to get another year out of it before they spend money on a replacement. He keeps his head down and secretly believes that this part of his life will never be over.

*

Eventually, this part of his life is over.

He is nineteen and living in London in a cheap flatshare with three other people, he has a job at a real academic institution, and he has a boyfriend.

Ramesh is sweet and funny and has soft brown eyes with the longest eyelashes Martin’s ever seen. His heart flutters in his chest every time they’re together, his breath catching in his throat and spilling out as laughter. Martin feels normal, because this is London and nobody cares if he walks down the street with Ramesh’s hand in his, if he kisses his boyfriend in the queue for the chippie. It’s like a weight Martin never knew was there lifted off his chest and he can breathe properly for the first time in his life.

He and Ramesh go out for almost a month before they’re in Martin’s flat alone one night, all the others gone out, and Ramesh presses him down on the sofa and kisses him and crawls a hand inside Martin’s jeans. Martin feels hot and cold all at once, his stomach coiling sick and every muscle in his body tensing up for fight or flight. He pushes Ramesh away—too hard, too clumsy—and guilt courses through him at the hurt look in Ramesh’s soft eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Ramesh asks, and Martin can’t say, his heart pounding and his hand clenched painfully tight against the arm of the sofa.

“Sorry,” he’s able to say eventually. “I just, umm…”

“It’s all right,” says Ramesh, though he still looks hurt and confused and Martin has the feeling it’s not actually all right. “I probably surprised you. We can wait for next time, yeah?”

“Yeah,” says Martin, grateful at the reprieve. They sit on the sofa and watch a film instead, and Martin scarcely follows the plot as he tries to calm the adrenaline rushing through his veins, making him want to flinch every time Ramesh’s shoulder touches his.

Next time is the same. Martin apologizes again, and Ramesh says it’s all right again and then two days later breaks up with him.

“I just don’t think it’s working out,” he says, and Martin knows it really wasn’t all right after all.

*

Martin’s sick of wishing he was normal, and what is it they say: fake it ‘til you make it?

He gets drunk and takes home a man he doesn’t know and has sex. He scarcely remembers it the next day and he’s too hungover and miserable to try, but he’s proven to himself that he can have sex and that’s the important thing.

Having sex is normal. It’s what people in relationships do. Martin doesn’t know why he has the hang-ups he does, but he just needs to get over them and learn to relax a bit. Having a couple of drinks helps, he finds.

He has a few boyfriends here and there, and having sex really isn’t a problem. There are better things he could think of doing with his time, but it’s fine. There are even some nice things about it, like feeling close to someone. Intimate.

Eventually, he thinks, maybe he’ll stop feeling like he’s faking it.

*

It isn’t that he gives up on relationships. It’s just that there are so many expectations that Martin feels he always fails to live up to, so many rules that it seems like everyone but him instinctively knows. Trying feels like more hassle than it’s worth.

And then he gets transferred to the Archives and there is Jonathan Sims with his imperious glare and devastating voice and Martin is fourteen all over again watching Stephen Dowling snap his gum in Geography class.

“You really need to stop mooning,” Tim tells him. They’re at the Institute holiday party and they’re all a bit sloshed, and Martin can admit to himself that yes all right he was mooning a bit over Jon, who’s stood at the bar with his back to them, talking animatedly with Elias.

“I am not mooning,” he says, because there’s no reason he has to admit it to Tim as well. “I was just...contemplating.”

“Contemplating Jon’s arse,” Tim snorts, and then Sasha plonks down three shot glasses on the table in front of them and sits down in a rush.

“Who’s contemplating Jon’s arse?”

“Martin, of course.”

“I am not—” Martin begins to protest, but Sasha shushes him, pushing a shot into his hand. It smells of cinnamon and the liquid inside is bright red.

“Hopeless case,” sighs Tim, and drinks his shot. Sasha does the same and then gives Martin a sympathetic smile, her eyes a little bit unfocused.

“If it’s any consolation, Jon doesn’t shag anyone.”

“Sasha!” Tim scolds, and she suddenly seems to realize what she’s said, her eyes going wide.

“Shit,” she says. “Sorry, god, I shouldn’t have said anything. Martin, please pretend you never heard me say that.”

“Okay,” Martin promises but his brain is snagged on ‘Jon doesn’t shag anyone’, how she said it so easily, matter of fact, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. He looks up at the bar where Jon is still standing with Elias, his slim hands gesturing as he talks.

“Drink your shot,” Tim tells him. “It’ll help you forget about Sasha’s big mouth.”

Martin drinks his shot, which is absolutely sickening, but he doesn’t forget.

*

There is one bed in Daisy’s safe house.

It’s evening when they arrive and Martin is exhausted, a bone deep weariness that might be from the travel or the fear or the fog that’s seeped under his skin. Jon looks tired too, dark circles under his eyes and now that Martin’s really looking at him for the first time in months, he’s amazed Jon hasn’t just shivered apart at the seams by now. He is filled with the desire to take Jon in his arms, as if he might hold the fragile pieces of him together, and he thinks that he could.

He saw Jon, in the Lonely, even if they haven’t talked about it since. Saw how Jon felt about him, so yes, Martin thinks he could put his arms around Jon and it would be welcome. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t, except that there’s a part of him that still feels like it’s trapped behind glass, abstracted and numb, and it keeps his arms by his sides while his heart yearns against his rib cage.

In the meantime, there is only one bed, and they both stand looking at it for a few moments, considering the implications and the fact that they have only just found each other again after months of absence.

“There’s enough room,” Jon says eventually, his voice soft and tired. Martin nods; there is enough room.

It’s cold, and they both climb under the covers in socks and tracksuit bottoms and long sleeved t-shirts, pile the thick feather duvet and two blankets over them. It feels like being cocooned, their combined body heat gradually warming the mattress, the slow even sound of Jon’s breathing warming something in Martin’s chest.

He’s here, he’s here with you. You’re here with him.

In the gentle dark they gravitate together, drawn close by the longing that’s suffused all their months apart. When Jon’s lips press gently against his, Martin thinks his heart might burst. He kisses back, and at last that trapped part of him breaks free and he lifts his arms to wrap around Jon, pulls him against his chest. Jon makes a soft, surprised sound and he breaks the kiss.

“Martin,” he says, careful the way he has been since he brought Martin back, as if a wrong word might shatter him. “I need to tell you, before this goes any further—”

“It’s okay,” Martin tells him. “I don’t want to have sex with you either.” It feels so good to be able to say it that Martin could cry or laugh or both.

“Oh,” says Jon, and then huffs a soft laugh. “Well that’s—that’s good, then.”

He kisses Martin again, and leans in against him, close and warm and filling every part of Martin’s awareness. Martin knows he left all hope of normal behind years ago, before worms and fog and evil circuses. But the fact that he gets to have this—just this, with the man he loves; no expectations and nothing to fake; and for the moment at least, no fear. This is far, far better than normal.

And Martin couldn’t wish for anything else.

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘕𝘊𝘛 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘴

requested by the lovely @m4rshm4llow​ (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

Mark Lee

i think mark is quite good with children too when he’s not frozen in awkwardness

but i wouldn’t trust with him alone with a kid for too long tbh

like i see him as someone who could probably entertain a kid for a couple of hours succesfully but taking care of them?? yeah no (˵¯͒ བ¯͒˵)

so let’s say he had to tag along with you to babysit because he didn’t want to waste any time he could spend with you *let my boy receive his love*

but he’s not thaaaat excited he just hopes that the kid will get K.O.-ed early in the night so he could have some alone time with you( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°).... TO CUDDLE ya nasties

so when you arrive at your cousin’s house and you come in

he surely DIDN’T expect a kid to literally throw himself onto you and cling to your legs while chanting your name o(*^▽^*)o

the only way you can get him to detach so you can walk is if you pick him up in your arms

“y/n, who’s he?” mark just stares at the chubby finger pointed at him and produces an *HIGHLY AWKWARD* smile like (*′☉.̫☉)

“oh this is mark, my boyfriend”

*silence* “ew”

now hold on rewind

did a kid just ‘ew’ at mark (｡☉︵ ಠ╬)

and then he had THE AUDACITY to cling to your neck while rambling about his new robot toy and mark had to THIRDWHEEL the entire night

now he’s sure you have superpowers how could you tame that!!??!?! even haechan could be considered mild in comparison to... this ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ

he’s pouty the entire evening while you play and take care of the newly spawned devil in town who HOGS your attention the entire time

so when he finally runs out of energy a bit later than mark would have hoped for, he’s quick to envelop you in his arms and drag you into a well deserved cuddle session ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

“what took you so looong?”

“sorry sorry, i had to look under his man for boogeyman”

“pffft i think boogeyman is the one looking under his bed for that kid”

but he does melt when he remembers the way your eyes sparkled as the child giggled excitedly on your lap while imagining himself in the picture too (๑°꒵°๑)･*♡

Huang Renjun

renjun as we all know is just a bit short tempered so i’m not sure where he stands in his relationship with kids 눈_눈

but also he brings up his younger cousins quite often and he seems very fond of them whenever he talks about them

so i guess he likes kids but like good kids ya know Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

so let’s say you’re shopping in like one of those bigger supermarkets

and you hear cries

your mother instincts literally GO OFF LIKE CRAZY

renjun doesn’t even have the time to blink before you’re dragging him in the direction of the noise with such precision you might as well have a radar at this point ᕕ༼✿•̀︿•́༽ᕗ

turns out a little girl was lost between the tall aisles

renjun is a lil bewildered cause what is he supposed to do? not like he’s tall enough to see other the aisles in his dreams maybe

but you seem to know EXACTLY what to do as you crouch down in front of the girl and speak to her so gently not even renjun can hear properly

and then as if nothing happened she stops crying

just like that so renjun decides to try his luck too o｜◕ˇ▽ˇ◕｜ツ

“come on, let’s go find mommy and daddy”

and lemme tell ya the little girl sprung into your arms and clung to you with everything she had as she mumbled into your neck

“i only wanna go with miss” (つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡

his eye twitched a lil ngl （；¬＿¬)

and that’s how you end up taking a stroll to the announcement desk with a whole child gripping onto your hand

renjun would have never imagined his grocery run to turn into this

he only wanted some damn carrots not a frickin child ಠ╭╮ಠ

thankfully it didn’t take long for the parents to run over and thank you for returning their child safely but there was only one problem left

getting her to let go of you

that was a whole ass dramatic goodbye

poor renjun was left exhausted after this he gave up any grocery run he intended to do and dragged you home pronto (ﾉTдT)ﾉ

he admires you so much for how you handled the situation and how you seemed to be so natural and in your element he can only think of how great of a mother you will be in the future with his beside you hopefully

Lee Jeno

one word, his greatest asset: PATIENCE

i see jeno as a man of patience which is more than just helpful when it comes to handling children ❀.(*´◡`*)❀.

he’s also volunteered in all these programs that involved children and he did really well if you ask me soooo he’s a good ally to have (︶.̮︶✽)

and you really REALLY want to volunteer together at one of those like emergency centres for children or something

and who is he to deny his love? he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, you’re too cute in his eyes so he lets you get your way anyway

so before you step inside one of the caretakers gives you some advice

warns you that the new kid, a little girl still in primary school, is still very closed off and wary of everyone

but as you step inside the kids get drawn to you like moths to a flame, swarming around you and asking you questions while dragging you in the living room to play with them

jeno just trails behind, watching the entire commotion with his soft eye smile as he understands (◍•ᴗ•◍)

he knows that you just have a way with people, he’s been in the same position mesmerized by you, it’s one of the reasons he loves you so much and seeing you so purely happy surrounded by children

MELTED HIM ♡(.◜ω◝.)♡

eventually you drag him into the happy circle too and he seems to fit in just right by your side with giggling children everywhere around you

he ends up using his muscly arms ᕙ[ ˵ ͡’ ω ͡’ ˵ ]ᕗ as swings

“hey!! i’m stronger than you!!! let’s have a fight!!!!”

you just giggle as you colour some pictures with a few kids but stare at your boyfriend from the corner of your eye

jeno is so simply happy and comfortable he doesn’t even notice when you disappear from the crowd at first

but when he does his eyes search wildly for you like a lost puppy Σ(ﾟﾛ､ﾟ;)

but then he spots you

curled up on a small couch in the corner of the room, deep in conversation with the new girl whose eyes seemed just a little brighter as you clutched her hand in yours warmly ｡ﾟ.(*´◡` )

and jeno just realises again

you’re just working your charm once again and once again jeno falls for you for the nth time, deeper than the last time and lighter than the next

Lee Donghyuck

this manchild right here smh ୧༼◔益◔୧ ༽

now don’t get me wrong i’m pretty sure he’s decent at least with children

given he has two younger siblings and he often talks about hanging out with his little brother also have you seen that vid with the little girl?? the was he talked to her ⊂（♡⌂♡）⊃

buuuut BUT he’s also DYING like a fish out of water without attention

so when he invites you to tag along to his hangout with his lil bro

he didn’t expect TO BE THE ONE THIRDWHEELING!!!! (╬ಠ益ಠ)

you keep feeding and pampering his brother who basks in your full attention half because he loves it half because he loves the annoyed look on hyuck’s face

“babe i want some kimchi too” (*ﾟ∀ﾟ*)

“oh!!! sure, i’m sorry for hoarding it all”

and as hyuck awaits with his eyes closed and his mouth open with a pleased smile

you plop a bowl of kimchi in front of him and turn back to his brother as he tugs on the sleeve of your shirt

hyuck, muttering to himself: ‘i should have left you home, you lil brat, both of you traitors!!!!!’ (ノTДT)ノ ┻┻

he pouts and sighs dramatically with crossed arms the entire night while watching you interact oh so sweetly with his little brother

but he can’t deny the warm feeling of fondness swarming is his chest seeing you get along so well with his family and being so genuinely happy when you’re with kids

still complains to you when he gets you alone

“i can’t believe you love my brother more than me!!! ME, YOUR SWEET LOVELY CUTIE BOYFRIEND!!!” ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓��̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

“first of all, i wouldn’t stretch it that far-” “how is that stretching-?!??!”

“i’m sorry i’m sorry, my sweet lovely cutie boyfriend, i just missed him, he’s so cute and i haven’t seen him in so long and he seems to grow so fast every time we meet” (oꆤ︵ꆤo)

NOW hyuck is real soft how can he be mad at you when you’re THIS ADORABLE AFSKSGDFSAF-

hyuck just presses a sweet smooch to your temple and mutters

“he only acts that cute with you, he’s a devil at home”

“sheesh, i wonder who he takes after” *pointed look* (￢ε￢　)

Na Jaemin

my man here will most likely compete with YOU for the CHILD’S attention

it’s like GAME OVER for him if a child rejects him ε-(≖д≖﹆)

he’s never gonna get over this betrayal from both sides

so let’s say he takes you with him when he offers to babysit a cousin or neighbour idk you get where i’m getting at

and he’s already ‘play buddies’ with him as jaemin likes to put it (,,꒪꒫꒪,,)

and you’re slightly acquitanced with him from a previous visit to jaemin’s house when you coincidentally met

so when jaemin opens the door and announces his presence LOUDLY, the little boy doesn’t waste A SECOND to waddle in the hallway and meet you both ლ(＾��＾ლ)

and jaemin crouches to meet him midway and-

and he *swooshes* past jaemin and into your open arms while giggling

jaemin, a lonely man in the middle of a hallway: (ಥ⌣ಥ)

the entire day, your boyfriend tries to steal the kid’s attention or bribe him over with sweets or toys

now you’re wondering who the real brat is

is salty about the UTTER rejection but also can’t help but watch you both so fondly with a proud hopefully in future for real fatherly smile (*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ)

“are you practicing, y/n?”

“pardon?”

“practice, are you practicing?”

“for...?” ∑（´△｀○）

“ya know” *wiggles eyebrows* “taking care of our future children”

“learn how to control your own brat at home read jisung first and THEN we can talk, jaemama”

jaemin can’t believe this low blow, how could you after everything he’s done: cooking for you, taking you on bike rides even though he was the one who wanted to, even buying pads!!! or even worse!!!!! STRAWBERRY YOGHURT!!!!!! ∑(ﾟ台ﾟlll

he’s still pouty as you all put on an animation and snuggle a blanket

but then!!!! you fall asleep with the little boy in your embrace

and jaemin!!!!! just!!! CAN’T!!! stay mad!!!!!! cause you’re both just SO absolutely irrevocably CUTE!!!!!! ♡( ૢ⁼̴̤̆ ꇴ ⁼̴̤̆ ૢ)~ෆ♡

so he just HAS TO lay a *meaningful* smooch on your forehead as he sleepily moves closer to you both, one arm wrapping loosely around you while the other caresses the child’s head, lulling the both of them to sleep his protecc instincts kicked in y’all

Zhong Chenle

he has already expressed his wish to have a family someday since he wants to live the same happiness his brother does with his own family

which i think is ABSOLUTELY PRECIOUS

and we all know he’s WHIPPED for his nephew ˞♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ)

but unfortunately

that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s good with children yet

let me give you a context over here

so he’s left alone for a short while with his baby nephew which shouldn’t be too bad since technically chenle is an adult at least legally okay??

and right things are all good until BABY STARTS TO CRY i’m talking about the actual baby here although chenle might cry too at this point

and chenle just PANICS when he realises that just shushing won’t work and whacking a hand over his mouth *cough* like he does to jisung *cough* isn’t an option (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)

but thankfully, you’re there!!!!!!

“may i?” you ask chenle as you stretch out your arms in his direction

chenle has never passed over anything faster in his entire life џ(ºДºџ)

so when you coddle the baby in your arms and just gently bounce him a little he just settles down so cutely and most important QUIETLY as he stares up at you with curious eyes, small fingers curling up around a necklace swung around your neck or just the fabric of your shirt

chenle is all like (๑•́o•̀๑)!!

HOW DID YOU JUST DO THAT!!!!

and he watches with eyes even more curious than his nephew’s eyes as the baby slowly dozes off peacefully in your arms (꒡ ω ꒡ )zzz

it just hits him just how natural the scene looks

he approaches carefully once he’s sure his nephew fell asleep and lays a gentle hand on your head as he peers down at the cute chubby baby face

“you’re a life saver, how did you even manage to do that?” ◎ܫ◎

“you know, i have to take care of you all the time so-”

he flicks your forehead faster than you can finish that sentence

way to ruin a moment (oT-T)

but *SIKEEE* the baby fusses a little as soon as you frown and chenle immediately freaks out

he showers the spot on your forehead with kisses and his nephew settles down once again as you smile at him proudly ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७

chenle rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t wish for this scene to become familiar to him sometime in the future

Park Jisung

this chick is still a baby who barely hatched

so he’s still in CONSTANT WONDER of the world ༼ つ ◕o◕ ༽つ

and in this episode of ‘jisung the explorer’ he’s discovering... ACTUAL babies

so you were on a date at the local mall when you met with a family friend of your mom’s who was struggling with her fussy baby girl in a carrier while trying to shop for some baby products

so you offer to watch over the girl until her mom finishes up (•́⌄•́๑)૭✧

but just as you’re about to attach the baby carrier to yourself, an old woman asks for directions around the shop

so you pass the baby to jisung for literally a minute to show the lady the way └(>ω<。)┐

and jisung is HIGHKEY PANICKED

he holds the baby by the underarms at arms length and obviously she doesn’t enjoy that and just starts wailing in the middle of the shop

and people just... stare (,Ծ_Ծ,)

and jisung is all like ‘IT’S NOT MINE!!!!! AND I’M NOT STEALING OR MISTREATING IT EITHER!!!!!!’

the moment you’re back in his sight, he’s THRUSTING that tiny loud bald creature in your arms it’s a child jisung ║ * ರ Ĺ̯ ರ * ║

and he expects for you to panic too but right away

the baby quietens down as you cuddle her close to your chest and coo softly in a hushed baby voice

and she plays with your shirt while you glare at your boyfriend (눈_눈)

“y/n, you sorcerer, how did you just shut it off?”

“i didn’t ‘shut it off’, she’s a baby not a tape recorder”

“oh REALLY, i couldn’t tell the difference for a moment there”

you just might consider returning jisung and keeping the baby（ ಠωಠ）

he watches in wonder as you entertain the baby for the next few minutes until her mother comes back

and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees your smile widen with tenderness once you get a small giggle out of the baby (*ฅ́˘ฅ̀*)

he supposes maybe she isn’t so bad since she makes you so happy

even though she was louder than even chenle which is an accomplishment at this point

and when jisung notices your slight pout once you gave the baby back and parted ways he makes sure to shower your face in kisses until you regain the same smile that made him fall so deep in love with you

[cno-inbminor]

domus - pt. 3 (final)

a/n: it’s done. oh god it’s done. it’s like 2AM so it’s unedited for now, but i’ll make edits in the morning. i also apologize in advance for the slightly rushed ending fas;elifjac you will need to read parts 1 and 2 (linked below) for context!

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~8k

genre/warnings: angst with teaspoons of fluff; mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

pt. 1 | pt. 2

The grey sheets fail to startle you this time around, granted that it’s been about four days since you first arrived. It’s the constriction of cotton around your body that wakes you up on this Tuesday morning, and your brain can’t fathom why your loose pajamas have suddenly become so uncomfortable. But then the threads tickle the skin of your arms, your legs feel the slight scrape of denim, and your toes have trouble wiggling around due to the constraint of…socks.

Why are you wearing socks to sleep?

Much to your body’s protest, you stumble out of Keiji’s comfortable sheets (note to self: ask him where he got them from) and into the reflection of the body-length mirror in his room. Your vision blurs when all the colors of the rainbow come into place, exploding into a million stars as you lose a bit of your balance. Thankfully, your hand finds purchase against the wall and allows you to regain some stability. It only takes a few seconds, overwhelmingly agonizing as they are, before you can properly assess your current state.

Yesterday’s outfit glares back at you, though much more mussed and wrinkled than you last saw it. Similarly, your hair is in a disarray, hands subconsciously trying to take out any tangles while you can. Knowing the state of cleanliness that Keiji keeps his space in, you feel a wave of regret wash over you for having slept in his bed in air-polluted clothes that must have caught who knows how many germs. Immediately, you move to your suitcase to find something to change into, discarding your current outfit into a large plastic bag that acted as your nomadic hamper. As soon as you’re done, you begin to gather up all the layers of Keiji’s bed, fitted sheet and all, and leaving them on top of the mattress in separate piles by how they should be washed. But while you gather the first bundle into your arms, you take a quick look at the clock, slightly flabbergasted that it’s only a little past 6AM.

In your somewhat frantic attempt to atone for your sins against Keiji’s abode, you failed to notice the lack of sun rays peeking from behind the curtains. And much like you’ve done every day since you showed up, you pull the material back and greet the nostalgic view of Tokyo once more.

But serenity doesn’t come to you. In fact, your heart seems to be weighed down by an unknown anchor. Instinctively, your arms come up to hug yourself slightly, knowing that it’s a feeble attempt at best. The weight gradually mixes with a grasp of suffocation and the feeling closes around your throat. Immediately, you seek a source of fresh air, eyes catching a handle on the window that you somehow missed all these days. This means that Keiji has two separate doors to the balcony, including the one in the living room, and you do your best to quickly yet quietly slide the pane open. As soon as there’s enough space for you to slide through, you practically bound out and lean yourself over the rail of the balcony, lungs taking in deep breaths of oxygen.

Below you, the city has already begun to awaken, pedestrians the size of ants seemingly crawling their away down the street. Faint car honks echo through the city, the occasional train horn blaring louder than the rest. These are sights and sounds you find familiar, and somehow, the unease in your chest settles. Everything seems okay again, and you wonder why it crept up on you so suddenly.

The realization creeps through your veins as you drink in the sight of the SkyTree: you’re not quite ready to leave yet. You don’t think you’re ready to hop on a plane back to Sapporo and back to the apartment that you and Tetsuro spent the last few years building together. Every corner, every nook and cranny of that unit was filled with memories upon memories, mostly good and some bad. And even if you want to think back on them, to be able to look at them and recall the moments fondly, you know that Tetsuro’s unfortunate confession would immediately overshadow all of it. They would just leave you in the same pool of broken bitterness that you originally escaped from.

You still haven’t texted him.

He must be worried sick, you think as your feet drag you back inside and grab your device from the nightstand. You check through your notifications as you step out onto the balcony again, and after a few minutes, your thumb hovers over his conversation thread. A stinging pain courses through your system at the nickname you have set for his contact, and you hate it. You hate how fresh it still feels, completely and utterly frustrated at yourself that part of you still hasn’t let go of him. Why couldn’t you be stronger than this?

But despite your distress, you tap on it and hesitate above the keyboard, trying to think of the right words. Only a few come to your mind, and before you can convince yourself to back out (because you owed him at least this much), your thumbs type out two words and hit the send button, immediately locking it afterwards and sliding it into the pocket of your gym shorts. Out of sight, out of mind, right? He wanted a text of confirmation, you give him a text. That’s all you would allow yourself without crumbling again, and you were trying to put all the Band-aids you could on it.

Undoubtedly, Keiji’s presence helps. It’s easy to not think about Tetsuro when you’re around him, busying yourself with either work emails or recipes that you want to try out. The former doesn’t mind being a guinea pig, as he so kindly put it on Sunday. In fact, he handed you a cookbook from his shelf that had some recipes tabbed with sticky notes, pointing out the ones he thought you might enjoy. Surprisingly, they were all very appealing and to your taste, and part of you wonders if it’s just a mild coincidence. So far, you haven’t messed anything up, and Keiji always finishes his portion with slightly veiled enthusiasm. He knew how much you enjoyed cooking and baking for others, evidence presented by the years of instances when you stopped at their house to drop off your newest creations – so whether or not his compliments were genuine, you took it.

What you don’t know is the number of knowing glances throughout middle and high school that Keiji’s mother would give him as he munched on your edible gifts, pretending to seem unfazed though his eyes adopted a slight twinkle as he ate his fair share. If she could see him now, she’d notice the same shine in them.

Part of you itches to see if Tetsuro read your text message, if he will bother responding. The phone burns in your pocket, but you decide against it, letting it scorch against your thigh as you lean against the rail and watch the sky grow brighter. You miss the carefree mornings like these when you aren’t in a rush to leave the apartment. All that’s really on your mind now is what to make for breakfast, mentally running through all the ingredients that Keiji has.

Today seems like a good day for pancakes.

-

Keiji’s eyes snap open when his phone goes off, mentally groaning when he realized he forgot to turn off the daily alarm he usually sets for going into work. Now that he’s spending a few days at home, there’s been no need to get up so early. He left it on yesterday since they had that early ride on the bullet train, but with all the events that happened last night, he simply forgot.

Keiji sees that his bedroom door remains closed and believes you’re still asleep. But when he stands up to stretch and looks out his balcony windows, he catches a glimpse of your figure through the gap in the curtains. The breeze from the AC slightly causes them to flutter, giving him a better view as he steps around the couch to get a better angle. You look pensive and somewhat defeated, staring out into the open space as the wind from the heights tousles your hair. He wonders if you’ve taken the initiative to let Tetsuro know if you were okay.

At this thought, his eyes are drawn the phone on his coffee table, staring for a few seconds and calculating to see if this is a good idea. Unable to find any issues with it, he steps back to reach for the device. On the off-chance that you did text him, he doubts that you told your boyfriend where you’re staying. Keiji knows that Tetsuro would be worried regardless and perhaps might gain some comfort from knowing that you were staying with a friend. So before he can chicken out, he taps a short text, ignoring the fact that it’s been months since the two had last spoken outside of the group chat Koutaro created for the three of them and Tsukishima.      

The lack of an immediate reply indicates that the former Nekoma captain is either still asleep or busy with his residency. Keiji casts one last look at you, noticing that you haven’t moved in the last few minutes. It seems that you’ll be there for a while and lost in your thoughts. There were only a few times in his life when he had witnessed this faraway look of yours, knowing it was better to leave you alone than to try and rip you out of the reverie. Perhaps he’ll take a chance with breakfast today, a small repayment for the onigiri and juice boxes you bought him on the train.

He thinks you might enjoy having some pancakes.

-

The deafening creak and slide of plastic ripping away from its rubber suction startles you. Much like you did when Keiji first scared you on Saturday morning, you turn to the source of fright with a hand over your pounding heart, staring in disbelief as said man walks out with a tray of food. Though this time, much to your amusement, he looks rather apologetic. The humor quickly morphs into guilt as you notice the two plates of pancakes – just how long had you been standing out here?

In a few steps, you meet him and silently take the tray from his hands, allowing him to close the balcony door. There’s no good place to put it besides the ground, and when Keiji sits next to it – legs stretched out – with his back against the plexiglass, you demurely mimic his movements on the other side of the tray. Without a word, Keiji places his portion onto his lap and grabs his own set of fork and knife. You simply stare at him until he gestures for you to do the same, returning the small smile he gives you. Both of you say your thanks before digging in, and you can’t help but notice how Keiji has drizzled just the right amount of syrup and in the way that you like it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” you apologize after a few bites in. Despite how fluffy and soft they are, the pancakes have a hard time going down your throat. Keiji had also gone through the trouble of making some freshly squeezed orange juice, yet the sip of the beverage doesn’t help much.

“It’s the least I could do after yesterday,” he says softly, and his eyes let you know he really didn’t mind. “Really, you’ve been cooking everything else. I saw a chance and took it.”

“But still—”

“I was more than happy to do it,” Keiji interjects. “It’s my way of saying thanks.”

“…has anyone ever told you that you’re too kind sometimes?” It’s easier to swallow now.

“Bokuto-san has mentioned it a few times,” he replies quickly, staring at you before you both burst out laughing.

From there, conversation flows more smoothly, topics ranging from the MSBY practice session yesterday to what mangas he’s been editing. The pancakes quickly disappear as the sun beams through the clouds, gradually heating up the earth until it was becoming somewhat unbearable in the heat. Keiji sports a light sheen of sweat by the time you two decide it’s wise to go back inside. He takes the tray before you can even think of grabbing it, ushering you to go ahead and shower first while he washes the dishes. As a sign of thanks, you give an affectionate squeeze around his upper arm as you walk past him.

Keiji pretends that his skin isn’t burning from the touch.

Right as he’s placing everything onto the drying rack, his phone rings from the pocket of his sweatpants. He’s not entirely surprised when Kuroo’s name flashes on the screen – after his text, he figured your boyfriend would either message back with lots of question marks or simply call to demand answers. A quick exhale leaves his lungs as he hits the green button and brings the device to his ear.

“Hi Kuroo-san.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s staying with me’?”

Keiji glances in the direction of the bathroom and hears the shower still running. Chances of you eavesdropping or overhearing would be low.

“It’s exactly what I mean. She’s staying with me for the time being.”

“Why you?”

“Honestly, that’s a good question.”

“…wait, so you didn’t know she was coming?”

“She called me when she was at the airport,” Keiji sighs, leaning back against the sink to keep a lookout on the bathroom. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“You’ve been treating her okay?”

“Of course, what do you take me for?”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Kuroo groans. “I only have about 10 minutes left in my break. How’s she doing?”

“As well as someone can do when their significant other suddenly tells them they’re not in love with them anymore.”

The silence is deafening over the phone. Keiji didn’t really mean to slip up right then and there, but he couldn’t help the simmering anger rising in his stomach.

“…I’m guessing she told you then.”

“Just last night. I asked when she got here, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. We went to see Bokuto-san yesterday.”

“That would explain the weird text I got from him last night. Did it help?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good then,” Kuroo sighs into the speaker, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keiji replies. “Though if you don’t mind me asking…how did it happen?”

“I don’t have a lot of time left so I’ll make it quick. It just – I don’t know, it kinda hit me one morning. I was wondering why I stopped feeling like I needed to get home as soon as possible. Stopped asking for details about her day, or at least nothing more than how it was. I’d forget half the things she was telling me whenever she talked about her job. It was nice coming home to someone after a long shift, but I just…it didn’t feel all that special knowing she was the one waiting for me. I love her like a best friend, just not romantically anymore. She doesn’t deserve to get dragged along because I can’t speak up about my feelings, so I told her. You understand, right?”

Immediately, Keiji wants to say no. No, he doesn’t get it. It’s nearly unfathomable to him that Tetsuro can just slowly stop caring about the things that were important to you. He imagines your figure curled up in bed, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to come home safely. He imagines you greeting Tetsuro happily, blissfully unaware that the man only kissed your cheek in greeting as a force of habit.

He imagines your face falling little by little as Tetsuro explains himself, your guard failing to mask the anguish you were feeling, and it pains him. Yet his torment at the thought could only be a small fraction of what you experienced – neither was this the time to be heavily biased.

“I don’t have any say in the matter,” Keiji begins and tries to keep his voice as level as possible. “But you know she’s not going to give in to your terms, right?”

“I know it’s not exactly sensible, but I’m trying—”

“Do you really think she’d be happy knowing that?” He nearly hisses into the phone, simply fed up with Kuroo’s stubbornness. “You’ve just told her you don’t love her anymore, insinuating that you’d be happier without her – knowing how much she loves you, do you really think she’d let you force yourself to try for her sake? You know how selfless she is!”

“And I’m trying to give her a chance to be selfish for once – this is on me, and I could at least try! I loved her once, who says I couldn’t love her again? I’ll give her all the time she needs and—"

“If you really cared about her, you would let her go!”

“It’s not that simple!”

Keiji has never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life. “Don’t you understand it’d be nothing but torture for her? Every day, hanging onto some flimsy hope that everything will go back to the way it used to be? There’s a high chance that you’d never feel that way again, so you’re going to let her waste all that time on you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Tetsuro knows Keiji’s right. He knows, and he loathes it. His own fear of drastic change caused him to spill all those empty promises to you, simply refusing to acknowledge that his own selfish desires were the demons speaking.

“…I’m glad you’re the one she’s staying with. It’s better than being alone in a hotel for a week.”

“You’re digressing.”

“Let her go, huh?”

“Like I said, if you really cared, then yes. Anything she asks of you, go with it. It’s the least you could do.”

“…I gotta go, my break’s up. Thanks, Akaashi.”

Keiji isn’t doing it for him. “Bye, Kuroo-san.”

Beep.

-

“You cannot leave your room until I let you!”

“(Y/n), what—”

“I need to get groceries and what I’m making is gonna take a really long time, but I’ve been dying to try it and this is the perfect time! I wanna surprise you though.”

“You don’t need to surprise me—”

Keiji’s feet are planted in the entrance of his bedroom door, heels digging into the hardwood as much as they can. After he came out of his shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you were pushing him towards his room, words spilling from your lips a mile a minute.

“Please?” You nearly pout when Keiji turns to get a good look at your face. “You said you need to work anyways, right? I’d be much less of a bother if I was doing something else.”

“You know I don’t mind you being in the same room,” he says gently, hoping that he never said anything that could’ve insinuated your presence wasn’t welcome wherever he was. “Company is nice.”

“We have tomorrow for that, it’s just this one time. Plus, I’m washing the bed and the sheets are still in the dryer.”

“You didn’t have to do that – hey, what if I need to go to the bathroom?”

“You have to promise not to peek!”

“(Y/n)—”

“Pinky promise, right now!” You demand, sticking out a pinky in between the two of you. Keiji pretends to be annoyed at your antics, but he can’t help but smile as your two pinkies link together and thumbs come up for a stamp.    

“What if I need to get something to drink?”

“Just let me know and I’ll bring it to you. And no peeking!”

“As I promised, yes.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, and Keiji can only watch a little despondently as you disappear out the front door. He isn’t looking forward to the same sight that’ll occur in three days, though that time you’ll be lugging a suitcase behind you and potentially leaving for good.

Instantly, the apartment feels too empty. Everything is too quiet again, reminding him why he has a difficult relationship with working from home. Part of him is so used to the hustle and bustle of the manga company that the silence in an empty home somehow feels wrong. And now that some liveliness has been thrown into the mix, painting his abode with splashes of gentle hues, the void feels even more foreign.

You’ll be back within an hour. He just has to bear with it for that short time frame – there’s a decent pile of work waiting for him anyways.

It might be a good time to start practicing being alone again as well.

-

With determination, Keiji throws himself into his work, only stopping every couple of hours to lean back into his chair and rub his eyes. His little energy bursts come in various forms: when you first came back and greeted, “I’m home!” through his bedroom door, whenever you come in to refill his cup of water, when you come in with two plates of sandwiches          during lunch time, and when you bring him some tea as a change of pace in the afternoon. Every gesture is strongly appreciated, and he wishes he could help you in the kitchen.

(He tries to ignore how domestic everything feels. It’s a sensation he finds himself getting drunk on, the bliss encasing his nerves with a pleasant numbness.)

Keiji broadcasts a bit of his work to you, talking you through his process and the things he looks out for when editing. With you, he doesn’t have to worry about leaking spoilers – in fact, you look more enraptured with his set-up than anything. He enjoys the awe and childlike wonder that cloud your face. It’s a far cry from the ruminative expression from this morning, and Keiji hopes that he’ll never have to see that face again.

Always a man of his word, he stays in his bedroom while you finish making dinner. Based on the smell and distinct sound of something being seared in a hot pan, Keiji gathers there’s meat involved. Earlier, his food processor had been going as well, though he couldn’t exactly place why it sounded like you were beating something against the counter. You might have been butchering something, meaning there was meat involved. But he knows his curiosity will be pleasantly sated and bides his time with mindless YouTube videos.

There’s a quiet knock on his door before it opens, revealing your slightly exhausted frame. Concern washes over him as his eyes frantically assess your current state, flitting around until he spots where your hand seems to be cradling the other. It could only mean one of two possible scenarios, and without a word, he grabs the medicine box from his closet in search of the burn ointment. You begin to try and explain what happened, but before you can even say that you accidentally touched one of racks in the oven with the back of your wrist, you spot the little tube between Keiji’s fingers and fall silent. His eyebrows furrow as he approaches you, standing no more than a couple of centimeters away from you as he finds the burn and begins to apply the balm.

“You should’ve let me help,” he says quietly, regret laced through the words. His lithe fingers hesitate over the mark, hoping that the salve was applied quickly enough to prevent any potential blistering.

“This is nothing,” you try to soothe him. “I was just lost in thought and didn’t realize that my arm was getting a little too close. What matters most is that I still saved the dinner.”

Keiji shakes his head and releases his hold. “That’s not the most important at all. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

“You can help me by waiting here for another 15 minutes until I tell you to come out.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Keiji,” you firmly interject. Your hands grasp one of his, clenching around them to let him know it was okay. The small burn was no one’s fault but yours, and there was no need for him to feel guilty. “I’m okay, really. All the hard parts are over now, I just need to let something cool down and set up the table.”

The man before you releases a defeated sigh and you let go of his hand. Instantly, he misses the warmth and subconsciously flexes his hand in some strange attempt to retain the heat running through his fingers. “Call for me if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course.”

Once more, you exit his room and close the door behind you. He takes this time to stand by and stare out his balcony doors, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. A warm, orange glow fills his room as Keiji turns to look at his freshly washed bed, remembering the way you had scuttled in with an armful of linen and batted him away repeatedly from trying to help. He pictures the way you would curl up in sleep, imagining once again just how nice it would be to wake up together with the Tokyo sunrise.

“Dinner’s ready,” your voice calls out from behind him, stealing him away from his daydream. He makes his way around the bed to meet you where you demand him to close his eyes. The skeptical look causes you to laugh as you continue to goad him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything, promise.”

“If I so much as nudge a table with my big toe, I will kick you out.”

“So dramatic,” you scoff and roll your eyes. “Come on, please?”

Giving in to your requests seems second nature now, he realizes as his eyes slip shut, relying on nothing but the gentle hold you have on his hands and the sound of your voice. You do well in warning him about any possibility he might bump into something and Keiji’s trust in you solidifies – hell, they could be on the outskirts of an exploding volcano and he’d let you drag him around with a blindfold on. He can feel the nervousness rolling off you as you sit him down in his chair, hurriedly taking the seat across from him and adjusting yourself. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Keiji has to blink a few times to refocus his vision and chooses to ignore the way your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for the plate in front of him. Two slices of beef wellington sit elegantly on the white porcelain, a glass of red wine in the top corner, and a set of a knife and fork on opposite sides. It looks straight out of a cookbook and he loves that you were right – he would be pleasantly surprised, and your hard work would certainly pay off.

But what makes the smile on his face form is the memory of you two discussing different cooking shows on the walk home from school one evening. You had asked him out of the blue if he watched anything cooking-related, and when he had listed some of the channels he watched from time to time, you rattled off a list of things you wanted to try making some day but never could with time constraints. Beef wellington had been one of those items, as well as a croquembouche, Totoro macarons, and others.

“Did you finally get to live out your Great British Bake Off dreams with the puff pastry?” Keiji jokes, lifting his utensils and beginning to cut through the meat. At his question, he realizes you must’ve been pounding out the slab of butter to be used when making puff pastry from scratch.

“That, and try to channel Gordon Ramsay for everything else,” you chuckle and watch him carefully as he chews on his first bite.

“This is really good, holy shit,” he murmurs and relief floods your system. “Are you sure this is your first time making it?”

“Yep!”

“I’m gonna have to get seconds later,” Keiji says, still slightly suspended in disbelief. You’re practically shaking in your seat from how well received the dish is.

“Try to save some room for the dessert wine later.”

“Oh, you bought some?”

“Yeah, they had the brand we like at the supermarket.”

“What’s the occasion?”

You ponder on that for a bit, trying to find the right words for it. What he didn’t know was that you caught the last half of his conversation on the phone with Tetsuro. At first, you felt a flare of anger when you put the pieces together and realized that Keiji had ratted out your location, almost storming out of the bathroom to give him a piece of your mind. But when you heard him defend and stand up for you, you faltered, hand hovering over the doorknob. Once again, he was holding your best interests at heart and risking potentially fraying his friendship with Tetsuro for you. It was exactly the kind of support you needed in that moment.

So you do what you’ve always done to show gratitude when it comes to Keiji: make something edible for him. In middle and high school, you felt that food was the least awkward thing you could give to him if he did something for you, considering that you felt you two weren’t very close. Permanent gifts were a touch too intimate, and you could always hide the fact that you were gifting him something under the pretense of wanting to give it to his mother instead. Any batch of cookies, muffins, palmiers, or pastries were mainly meant for him, saying thanks for walking home with you, driving you home, entertaining you during get-togethers, letting you win in Monopoly for once, and many more. That was something you originally planned to take to your grave since you figured that Keiji would find it weird or disturbing, but now…now seemed okay.

Just not this exact moment.

“To a new beginning,” you decide and lift up your glass, angling it towards him for cheers.

“To a new beginning,” he echoes. Keiji clinks his glass against you and you both take a sip, his eyes glimmering over the rim.

-

You are very tipsy. Borderline drunk. You honestly can’t remember the last time you got wine drunk, but somehow you just couldn’t stop drinking. If you had to give your best estimate, about 70% of the red wine had been consumed by you. And now that the dessert wine was open, you were nearing 60% of that as well.

Keiji sits on the opposite side of the couch from you, indulging you by letting you watch Ouran High School Host Club through some streaming service on his TV. It had been ages since he last saw anything from it, though he mainly focuses on your how far your inebriation is getting ahead of you. An hour ago, he had placed a cup of water by your side, though there was still half of it left. He wonders if he should be cutting you off soon, but you look too carefree and happy. And from experience, he knows that you could easily walk in a straight line if told to. It was an uncanny ability that you possessed, one that was somewhat showcased when you and Tetsuro showed up at a house party in college he just happened to also attend. Smashed overexaggerated your drunken state at the time, but the glossy look in your eyes now was very similar to that incident all those years ago.

The laugh that erupts from your chest as a result of Haruhi’s deadpan humor is slurred and lasts a little too long to be considered normal. Keiji feels his chest ease up when you reach for the water this time instead of the alcohol and chug it all down. He freezes when you turn towards him with a lazy smile spread across your face, but it turns into a pout when you hand him the now empty mug.

“Keiji-kun,” you mumble. “Please gimme more water?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He taunts, chuckling when your pout intensifies.

“I don’t wanna acci-acc-accid-accidentally break the mug. You brought it from your parents’, right? I used this one all the time back then.”

“Mmm,” he hums, prying the porcelain from your hands and standing to comply with your request.

Not even a minute passes after he returns when you clumsily shift closer to him. He doesn’t even have to time to internally gasp when you lay down on your back and plop your head onto his thighs, his arms now slightly suspended in the air because he honestly has no idea what to do with them. The best he can come up with is resting one arm on the back of the couch, the other tentatively placed on top of your head. He fights the need to run his fingers through your hair, although knowing it would bring you some comfort as the world begins to blur. It takes everything in him to not look down, but he’s not absorbing anything from the anime. The sounds fall short to the pounding in his ears, and the only time he can remember being this nervous was their last volleyball match during Nationals.

“Thank you, Keiji.”

“Hm? For what?”

“…sticking up for me to Tetsu.”

“…didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Keiji attempts to digress, pinching the shell of your ear.

“It hurts!” You cry out, overstating the pain you felt. In his defense, he barely put any force behind it. “I just wanted to say thank you, ‘s all.”

“It was nothing, I—”

“You really think we’re friends?”

Keiji frowns. “I said that before, didn’t I? Did you ever think we weren’t?”

“Honestly…no, I didn’t,” you confess. It’ll be a miracle if you remember any of this tomorrow morning. “You always seemed so far away…there were a few times when I thought you maybe hated me, only tolerated me because you’d never hear the end of it from your mom if she ever caught you being mean to me. I mean, if you ever think about it…you never talked about yourself, y’know?”

Keiji pauses the TV, throwing the apartment into complete silence. He only hears your shaky breathing and the AC running.

“Anything I ever heard about you was from your mom because she’d tell my mom, and then my mom would gossip,” you continue, chuckling bitterly at the end. “I knew you, but did I really know you? It felt so weird, walking by you in school and knowing what you were struggling with. But then you’d just smile at me like nothing was wrong and that hurt.”

He’s been staring at the same frame for the last minute or so and feels more and more awful with every word that leaves your lips. Somehow it’s everything he’s wanted to hear for years, but it’s also so bittersweet and tragic. But the more important matter currently at hand is the sound of your sniffles. Oh god, are you crying? Keiji finally has a reason to look at you now, studying how a forearm is strewn across your eyes – but he can see the tear tracks and feel the dampness on his sweatpants as they slide down your face. He attempts to move the limb away but you resist as much as you can, though it doesn’t take much. Keiji reaches over and plucks out a tissue to help clean you up, trying to placate both you and the semblance of a heartbreak.

“I was always worried that you were just – hic – hiding your emotions, bottling them up inside until it’d burst one day. But then I had to – hic -- remind myself that you had other close friends to confide in. With how much you got along with your teammates, I figured they’d keep an eye on you…but I still worried a lot. I hoped that you’d finally open up during our family dinners someday. Instead, it took a break-up and me getting drunk.”

He’s frozen when you lift your hand to his face, the tips of your fingers barely ghosting over his jawline. The anguish in your eyes is palpable; he can’t help but broaden the contact, leaning into your palm until it’s cradling his cheek while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You were okay, right?” You whisper. “You could talk to Koutaro? Or Akinori?”

Keiji’s gaze softens considerably. He analyzes the drooping of your eyelids, how they fight to stay open until you receive a desirable answer from him. It’s incredibly touching how much you wanted to reach out to him during all those years, waiting, wishing, hoping. You were right – he did expose some of his more vulnerable moments to his teammates. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have days where he ached to call you and spill every negative emotion he was feeling.

“I was okay, I promise,” Keiji reassures you, giving in to comb through your hair. “Thank you, (y/n), for caring about me.”

Your arm slowly drops from its hold and curls up against your chest. Even in your drunken state, you feel at peace, like the world has finally been lifted from your shoulders. It’s the answer that you’ve been silently searching for all this time, the unknown stewing and festering in the back of your mind.  

“I’m…glad…”

Keiji observes as you fall asleep and your breaths even out. With a heavy sigh, he gathers you into his arms bridal-style, hoping that the jostling doesn’t wake you up. Just like last night, he tucks you into bed, though not without leaving a gentle press of his lips against your temple.

The futon is cold and lonely. He’s really starting to not like it very much.

-

Wednesday and Thursday fly by so fast that he wonders if he accidentally time-traveled into Friday. Before he knows it, you’re rolling your suitcase out of his bedroom and towards his front door. As you slip on your shoes, your mind rattles off the locations of your important things: phone, wallet, keys, passport, driver’s license, and more. You turn back to look at your gracious host, shooting him your most appreciative smile.

“Thank you for everything this past week, Keiji. You don’t know how much it means to me, and I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“I was happy to have you, and you’ve done more than you needed to in trying to pay me back. Are you sure you don’t need me to drop you off at the airport?”

“I couldn’t impose on you any longer,” you wave off. “An Uber will do just fine.”

“You’ll let me know when you’re there? When you get back to your apartment?”

“Yes, mother,” you poke fun at him, laughing at the way he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll let that one pass for now. Remember, you can call me anytime, okay? About anything, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll remember that. See you around then?”

“See you around. Be safe.”

Neither of you make a move, not until Keiji steps forward to wrap you in a tight embrace. You do your best to return it ounce of ounce, bundling the back of his shirt in your fists. The last seven days have been pivotal to your friendship and you’ll never forget everything he’s done for you. Minutes pass, neither wanting to pull back until you can’t anymore, needing to meet the Uber outside. Keiji doesn’t have the heart to walk you all the way to the main entrance of the apartment complex, and you don’t force him.

Sitting in the airplane back to Sapporo is much less nerve-wracking than you originally predicted. You already have a list in mind of how to clear things out with Tetsuro, what steps you two need to take to make this split as seamless as possible. Various apartment listings had been bookmarked over the last couple of days, units big enough for just one person rather than two. The wound is still somewhat fresh, but scabs have already begun to form. You have Keiji to thank for in this process of healing.

As promised, you update him whenever you can, the final notice sent when you stand outside the door of your and Teturo’s apartment. It’s impossible for the nerves to not strike you now, even more so as you slowly unlock the door. The work shoes to the side of the doorway indicates that he is home, probably passed out in bed after a long shift. You quietly pad around the unit while putting some of your stuff away, though leaving the suitcase in the living room for now. When you step into the bedroom, Tetsuro is curled up on your side of the mattress, breathing deeply and soundly.

Two months ago, you would have peppered his face with kisses, demanding that he give you enough room to cuddle next to him. He would have opened his arms willingly, trapping you effectively in his new cage and you would’ve never thought of wanting to escape from him. So much has changed now, you think as you sit on the edge. You believe your action was subtle, but he stirs from his asleep, addressing the fact that you have returned. There is no screaming or crying, no tears or pleading. Instead, he shifts closer to give you an awkward hug around your waist while still laying on his side. It’s not the kind of hug that says, “Welcome home,” or “I miss you”, though.

It says, “I’m sorry,” and the placement of your hand on his embrace replies, “It’s okay.”

-

2 years later

Keiji likes this new routine with you.

For the last year and a half, you two schedule a weekly video call to catch up with each other. He likes this because he can watch you pull yourself together, adjust to the new life without Tetsuro. He gets to hear all the work stories that the other stopped bothering to pay attention to, no longer waiting for your next Snapchat or Instagram story update. Keiji’s at the friendship level now where he knows something has happened before you even post the photo. Sometimes you both cook together, finding a recipe that you’ll want to try. Other times you might just want to watch an episode or two of a show that’s caught both of your interests, swearing to each other that you’ll avoid spoilers or watching ahead.

It’s not the kind of relationship he truly wants with you, but it’s close enough and he’d be a fool to not take it.

Last week, you had to miss the video call, saying that your boss dropped a massive project onto your desk. You were going to be pulling overtime, and Keiji reminds you to take the necessary breaks. Texting is sparse and he feels the worry exponentially grow – were you pushing yourself too hard? Were you eating foods other than convenience store bentos and onigiris? Were you getting enough sleep at night?

His phone blares your custom ringtone from his kitchen counter and Keiji practically lunges for it, quickly picking up and holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

What is this feeling of déjà vu?  “I was about to start cooking something up just now, why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was so busy, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk last week. What about you?”

“I’m good, everything’s normal. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home. By the way, I bought you a gift. They said it got delivered not a few minutes ago.”

“Really? That’s weird, the front desk usually notifies me as soon as they get it. But you shouldn’t have.”

“Consider it an early birthday present,” he hears and relishes in the warmth your words bring. “Why don’t you go downstairs and check?”

“I guess I can. Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course.”

“What’d you get me?”

“What’s the point in me telling you when you’re about to open it in a few minutes?”

“Well,” Keiji starts and wrenches open the door. “I—”

He stops in his tracks, voice caught in his throat. You stand sheepishly before him, phone still at your ear as you drink in his stunned expression. Keiji doesn’t get taken by surprise very often, and you wish you had a camera for this moment. Koutaro would’ve loved it.

“Hey there,” he hears from you and through the speaker, a slight delay between the two phrases as his mind grasps at the situation.

“Why are you here?” He asks, hanging up and letting you in. Keiji hopes it doesn’t sound as rude as it might’ve come across. Like a gentleman, he takes your jacket and allows you enough space to take off your shoes.

“They’re doing renovations at my new apartment so I can’t really move in yet…I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days?”

Wait, new apartment? “Are you moving back to Tokyo?”

Excitement isn’t enough to describe the pure feeling of joy that runs through his veins when you nod. This is what you must have been so busy dealing with, packing everything up and scheduling a small moving van. All you have is your purse and a large suitcase, meaning that the rest of your belongings must still be en route.

“You can stay for as long as you need to. Take the bed, I can—”

“Actually, I lied. Not about moving to Tokyo,” you quickly defend when he seems to bristle at your words. “There aren’t any renovations and the rest of my stuff is coming tomorrow…but I purposely booked a ticket to get here today. You’re the first person I wanted to see.”

Not your parents, not some of your other friends. Him. You wanted to come and see him first before anyone else. The tone in your confession holds so much weight, a fondness in them that’s too intimate for someone who was just a friend. This was your way of trying to let him know that there was something more going on, but you were afraid that he would reject you. The ball was in his court now, and it was entirely up to him to decide how to proceed.

No one knows you better than him. No one is in tune or in sync with you as much as he is. It’s terrifyingly thrilling, but you want this. You want him.

So he takes one stride forward, cradles your face between his hands, and crashes his lips onto yours with a searing passion that’s been kept under lock and key for far, far too long. It’s perfect, you smile to yourself. But most of all…

It feels like home.

Bonus (a week later):

[Konoha]: hey, kou, is keiji dating anyone????

[Bokuto]: not that I know of??? why???

[Konoha]: apparently he just rsvp’d to my wedding and said he’s bringing a plus one??? i’m so confused, why wouldn’t he tell us??

[Bokuto]: did your fiancée see a name anywhere?

[Konoha]: hang on, she’s checking.

[Konoha]: oh shit.

[Konoha]: OH SHIT.

[Konoha]: HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK

[Bokuto]: WHO IS IT YOU BETTER TELL ME RIGHT NOW

[Konoha]: HE’S BRINGING FUCKING (Y/N) JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[Bokuto]: ABOUT GODDAMN TIME

[Konoha]: YOU OWE ME 5000 YEN, PAY UP

[thebigqueer]

Solangelo - "Edging Closer and Closer to Doom" - One-Shot

Summary: Nico and Will visit Percy and Annabeth to get advice before they leave for Tartarus.

Word Count: 4843

SPOILERS: Tower of Nero; TW: brief mention of guns (no actual violence though); trauma

Read on AO3

“Nico, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.”

“Is it somewhere romantic?”

Nico turns to Will, stopping both the boys in their tracks. A small smile twists over his mouth. “Well, we can go somewhere afterwards.”

It’s a warm day in August, and Will wants nothing more than to stay here at camp and enjoy the sun with his boyfriend. The month is coming to a close, along with their freedom, and Will thinks it’s important to enjoy the time they have left together.

Since the clash with Nero, Nico’s dreams have been getting worse. He’s been sleeping in later and later, trying to get snippets of the voice, to analyze where and who it’s coming from. Will has been getting worried about him; after some time at camp, Nico’s body seemed to fill into itself and an olive sheen returned to his skin, but only in the past few weeks all that work to improve himself appeared to be for nothing. His dark circles inked into his eyelids and the tan of his skin leached away as his fears took control of him again. His muscles turned to bones, hardening and poking against his skin. He isn’t even able to eat properly.

How are either of them supposed to survive Tartarus when they’re both getting robbed of their health?

“If we’re not going on a romantic date,” Will says, placing his hand over Nico’s wrist, “then I don’t want it.”

Nico raises an eyebrow and pulls closer, leaning his head back to properly look at Will. “It’s to prepare us for Tartarus. We need it.”

A block of ice settles in Will’s chest, freezing him down to his core. All the giddiness that he felt just moments ago melts away. He frowns. “Oh. Okay. Are we leaving for Tartarus right now?”

“Not for Tartarus.” A small smile balances across Nico’s face. “We’re just going to a place.”

“What is this place?” Will asks, seriousness slipping into his voice. “Are we going to Paris?”

Nico shakes his head. “No, we’re not going for the prophecy yet. Just… I need to show you something before we leave for real.”

Will sighs. “Okay. Are we going right now?”

Nico nods. “I’m going to shadow-travel us. You have Kit-Kats in your bag?”

“I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t. It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Nico rolls his eyes and pulls Will along, leading the two of them to the shadow of a nearby tree. “Let’s hope I don’t bring us to Venezuela again.”

Will laughs softly, the sound of it evaporating in the August heat. “Well, I didn’t mind being covered in cheese.”

“Yeah, well, at least it matched with your aesthetic. Cheese Head.”

About five minutes later, Nico and Will find themselves in a much different setting than the camp. The air here is much warmer than Long Island - it pours over both the boys’ skin and immediately coats them in sweat.

Looking around, Will realizes there are buildings surrounding them. Some people mill about, mostly teenagers and young adults with books in their hand and backpacks slung over their shoulder. College age. An aura of maturity lingers in the warm air, and suddenly Will feels too young to be here. Too inexperienced.

Nico leads the two out of the shadows and into the bright sun, and Will wants nothing more than to crawl right back into the darkness. Anything is better than this heat.

As the two stumble around, looking out of place in such a grown-up world, Will asks, “Where are we?”

Nico leads them towards a large building, where some young adults stand around and talk to each other. Some of them turn to look at Will and Nico, but for the most part none of them seem to mind. Dark circles linger under each of their eyes.

“We’re in New Rome,” Nico responds just as they enter the building. A cool wave washes over Will and he sighs outwardly in relief. The heat outside was almost unbearable.

But then Nico’s words settle into his mind, and he stops in his tracks. “New Rome?” he squeaks. “Why?”

“We’re going to meet someone.” Nico’s voice tightens with reluctance, as if he doesn’t want to give too much away, but Will already understands who they’re going to meet.

The son of Hades takes hold of Will’s wrist again and leads them up a set of stairs, despite the blond’s attempts at slowing them down. It appears that despite Nico’s lack of nutrition, he’s still able to drag Will along if he’s really into it.

“We’re meeting Percy and Annabeth?” Will asks, astonished. He almost trips over the next step as Nico’s pace quickens at the mention of their names.

When he doesn’t answer, Will knows he’s right. “Why them? I mean, I know they’ve been to Tartarus, but, like… so have you. What else do they need to tell you?”

“Well…,” Nico says, pulling them along to a flat floor. A corridor stares back at them, with doors standing on each side of the hallway. Harsh gray light flickers over the ceiling. He finally turns to Will. “It’s more like what they need to tell you.”

Nico releases his hold on his boyfriend’s wrist and walks forward, his feet pattering lightly against the floor. Will’s heart beats quickly in his chest, anxiety thrumming through his system. What are we here for? he wonders.

A little bit down the hallway, Nico stops and stares at a door. Under the gray lighting, his skin looks ashen and pale. Taking a deep breath, Nico raises a fist to the door and knocks.

Time stills as the boys wait for an answer. Nico slips his hand into Will’s and squeezes, then releases again. His skin feels feverishly warm against Will’s, bursting with anxiety. The blond frowns but says nothing.

After a moment, a click echoes in the hallway and the door swings open, throwing air around the boys. A tall figure looks down at them, his body slouching against the door tiredly, and Will is suddenly overcome with how much more different Percy looks.

His green eyes sparkle as mischievously as ever, churning with a mix of exhaustion and irritation. A large purple sweatshirt dangles over his body, the letters “SPQR” flashing across his chest in gold. His hair stands on end, frazzled and messy as if he’s just woken from a nap. In the lighting, his tan skin looks just as gray as Nico’s. A bored expression lingers over his face.

When he realizes it’s Will and Nico, he stands up straight. “Nico!” he exclaims. “Wow, I thought I’d be expecting you later.”

“Maybe you just slept in too much. You look exhausted.”

A tired smile sweeps over Percy’s mouth. “School hasn’t even started and I’m already missing out on sleep. Can’t wait for my classes to begin for real.” His eyes flit across Will. He tips his head in acknowledgement and moves away from the door. “You guys should come in.”

The air inside the room is a little cooler, fresh compared to the outside. Nico goes in first and Will follows, closing the door behind him.

For the most part, the room looks fairly neat. The blinds are drawn at the far side of the dorm room, only letting a little bit of light filter through. One bed stands against the far wall while another protrudes from a corner in the right. To the left of Will, a plain desk gleams; another one stands to the corner in the back. A bathroom and closet reside to the left, and a miniature kitchen protrudes from their right. Articles of clothing are piled up over the bed, which Will guesses are Percy’s.

“Nice place you’ve got,” Nico says carefully. Tension strangles the air, pulling the three together in an uncomfortable embrace. Will knows that, for the most part, Nico and Percy have improved their relationship. But looking at them now, with both their eyes trained on each other in an awkward stare, there’s still the rope of discomfort around them. They’re not completely sure how to act with each other.

A small part of Will relishes that discomfort. He knows Nico and Percy never really had a chance, but even then, he likes that he knows Nico better than the son of Poseidon. Maybe Percy is a huge, well-known hero who Will could probably never compare to, but at least there’s one thing Will can be better at than him, and that thing is being a better friend.

Almost as if he can sense Will’s thoughts, Percy smiles at Will. “Wow,” he says with astonishment. “Man, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. You look… tired. Everything okay with you guys?”

Well, Will thinks with annoyance, what a wonderful way to start a conversation.

Nico nods. “Is Annabeth coming?”

Just then, a knock echoes behind them. Percy grins. “That should be her.”

Annabeth peeps into the room, her blond curls flying as she pushes her head in. At the sight of Will and Nico, a nervous smile flickers over her features. She pushes through the door and steps over nervously. Tense silence wraps around the four demigods as they wait for everyone to get their places, prepared to act in this play of politeness.

“So,” Percy says, throwing an arm around Annabeth, “what is it that you guys are here for?”

Will snaps his eyes to Nico. He says nothing, but the message is clear: You haven’t told him?

Nico stares at him for only a second before he turns back to Percy. In a calm voice, he says, “It’s a matter of Tartarus.”

At the mention of the deathly place, both Percy and Annabeth flinch. The tan of their skin seeps out, spilling over the pale floor, and their eyes cloud over with fear. They’re looking past the boys, past the walls, traveling down into the fears, into the trauma.

“Tartarus?” Percy whispers, his voice threaded with fear and astonishment. “Why? Are you having dreams or something, Nico?”

Nico crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground, the gears in his head turning as he considers what to say next. “Yes,” he answers simply.

“Are you… looking for advice?” Annabeth inquires, edging a little closer to Nico. “Is everything alright? We thought you were going to Dionysus.”

Nico steps back from their gazes, his heart thrumming in his chest. He knew he’d have to tell them about his trip one day or another, and he supposes that now is the best time. Especially with how intense his dreams have become…

“I don’t need advice,” he promises, fixing Percy and Annabeth with what he hopes is a comforting look. Taking a deep breath, he admits, “Actually, I have to go down there again.”

For a moment, nothing happens. Time itself stills, pausing around all four demigods, tightening around them like coil. Percy and Annabeth stare at Nico as if they’ve never seen him before.

“Again?” Percy gasps. “What do you possibly need to do down there?”

Nico’s fingers clasp together in an attempt to ground himself. “Well, I’ve been having dreams. Someone keeps… calling my name. I think it may be Bob, but I can’t be sure. Whoever it is needs my help. I need to go down there again.”

Annabeth blinks. “You? Why you specifically? How come me and Percy haven’t been getting those voices?”

Nico shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. But I know that I need to go down there. Someone keeps calling it, and I would love to ignore it, but… they’re insistent. They want to get out. And I wouldn’t be a hero if I didn’t help them escape their torture.”

A feral look flashes in Percy’s eyes. His jaw clenches and he removes his arm from Annabeth. Stepping closer to Nico, he mutters, “You can’t. Do you know how dangerous that is, Nico? You went there alone and barely made it out alive. Me and Annabeth went there together and we barely made it out alive. How the fuck do you think you’re going to get in there and come back out alive for a second time?” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Dude, you cannot go down there again. No doubt you’ve suffered through enough trauma; you don’t think it’s going to mess up your mind even more? Annabeth and I had nightmares and flashbacks for months. We hadn’t been able to eat properly, or sleep, or just function.” He looks up and down at Nico. “And it seems like you haven’t either. You’re worse than I saw you before I left for New Rome. It’s not a good idea to go down there.”

As each of Percy’s words sink into Nico, irritation builds up in his skin. His nerves curl up and burst open again in rage. His jaw clenches. What right does Percy have to tell him how to act?

“I’m afraid it’s not your say in what I do or don’t,” Nico hisses. “Someone needs me, and I’m going to save them.” Unlike some people.

Annabeth steps forward, fear flashing in her eyes. “Then let us come with you! You can’t go down there on your own.” Then she blinks and snaps her head to Will. Her eyes widen. “No…,” she murmurs. “You’re going to take Will with you? Are you crazy?”

“He’s not taking me with him,” Will mutters defensively. “I’m choosing to go with him.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” says Nico matter-of-factly. “I need your help to convince him not to come.”

At his words, Will’s chest constricts with annoyance and betrayal. He thought they established that Nico isn’t going alone. But apparently this entire trip was just to try to convince him not to accompany him.

Will twists to his boyfriend. “What? After all we talked about, you’re still trying to get me to not come?”

A guilty look flashes in Nico’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Will, but I can’t risk it. You’re too important to me. I’m sorry I tricked you, but it’s not worth it for you to risk your life like this. The camp needs you.”

“And what? The camp doesn’t need you?” Will hisses. “You’re just as important. Gods, I just… I wish you would stop acting like you aren’t important. Like… like it doesn’t matter what happens to you.” He leans closer, his face bursting with red. “Because you know what, Nico? It does matter what happens to you. There are people who care about you. I care about you. You’re not going alone.”

“Actually,” chimes Percy, “neither of you are going. At least not without us.”

Nico turns on Percy, his fists shivering at his sides. “Don’t you act like you’re some savior, Percy. You may be older, but that gives you no right to act like you’re something to control our actions, like you’re supposed to protect us like we’re some kind of children. All I’m asking of you guys is to explain to Will that he shouldn’t come.”

“Why don’t I get a say if I get to come or not?” asks Will. “I’m my own person.”

Percy groans. “Why would we only say that to Will when you shouldn’t go either? Neither of you should be going!”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” growls Nico. “I asked for help.” Looking from Annabeth to Percy, he asks, “Will you help or not?”

Annabeth says, “Our only way of helping is by going with you.”

Nico groans. “You guys aren’t going. I’m not risking your lives either. Just… Can you explain to Will why he shouldn’t come?”

Will frowns. “Why can’t I? Why are you always insisting on doing something by yourself? You aren’t alone anymore, and you’re going to push me away?”

“Can you just… not? I’m trying to save your life and it’s getting really hard when you’re insisting to come with me.”

A wave of anger crashes into Will’s stomach and climbs all the way to the cliffs of his chest. His vision turns red. “Oh, I’m sorry, Nico, am I annoying you by saying I just want you to take care of yourself? Because if I am, just say so.”

An angry scowl curving over Nico’s features. “Yeah, you kind of are. How many times am I going to say it? I’m trying to protect you from certain death.”

“Why? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to go with you? That maybe I’m not as strong as any of the Big Three?”

Nico throws his head back as a harsh laugh escapes his throat. “Here we are again. Will, that’s exactly why I don’t want you to go - you’re insecure. Tartarus is going to use that against you. I don’t think you’re weak, and I never even said that. Your insecurities are the problem. Not to mention that it doesn’t matter if it’s your own choice to come with me; I’m still going to feel guilty if you die.” He scrubs a frustrated hand over his face and when he removes it, Will sees the pain in his eyes, the jab of guilt that’s been pressing against his conscience for days. “I don’t want you to die.”

“And that’s what I don’t want from you either!” cries Will. “Maybe I’m insecure, but I won’t be able to fix it any time soon. And you’re not okay either. But, Nico” - Will tangles his fingers with his boyfriend’s, spilling his warmth and kindness and heartache all into Nico’s bare palms - “we’re not going to be okay. No one is ever perfectly okay at any time. So don’t you think it’s even more important that someone go with you? Going together means that we’ll be there for each other; we’ll watch out for each other. Without you, I’m going to be worried sick; without me, you’re not going to have someone at your back. We ride or die together, just like we did with Nero. I don’t want to let you go on your own. You don’t need to.”

Nico’s chin quivers as he looks at Will, fighting hard to push back his tornado of emotions from destroying the room. “Will,” he whispers, but doesn’t say more.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Don’t say that. You’re making me feel worse.”

“I’m still not leaving you.”

“Neither of you are leaving,” Percy interrupts. Will turns to him, only to find that in place of calming sea-green eyes, he’s met with emerald daggers. A scowl bends over Percy’s face. “Nico, you know how dangerous that is. You can’t leave without me and Annabeth.”

The softness that came over Nico just seconds ago vanishes away as he turns to Percy. He lets go of Will’s hands and steps towards the son of Poseidon. “Stop acting like that!” he exclaims. “You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you? Why can’t you understand this is important? I thought you were smarter than this, Percy. Aren’t you the kind to save friends from peril?”

“Yes,” Percy says, gritting his teeth. “That’s exactly it. If I let you go, I’m not saving you.”

“Well, you’re not saving Bob either.”

“He’s a Titan. He can handle himself.”

“He saved your lives!”

“And I’m grateful for that,” assures Percy. “Every day. But he’s still a Titan; he’s able to last down there longer than we can. Wait for me and Annabeth, and we’ll go with you. It’s like Will said - you aren’t alone anymore.”

Hot, acidic silence lingers over the air, tightening its hold over the four demigods. Nico and Percy stare each other down, and it’s almost like Annabeth and Will don’t even exist anymore; it’s only them, trying to win their own battles.

“No,” Nico says simply. “The more people, the more danger. Two people is enough.”

At his words, Will’s chest billows with relief. “Two? You mean I’m coming?”

Nico turns his head to Will and looks at him with reluctance. He says nothing of affirmation, but that’s all Will needs to know. He’s going, and this time Nico won’t stop him.

“No!” exclaims Percy. He steps closer to Nico, his body towering over the son of Hades like an indestructible wall. For a second, Will’s nervous that he’s going to hit Nico, but he stops just short of bumping chests. Anger burns bright in Nico’s eyes, but he doesn’t step back.

“No what?”

Nico’s looking up at Percy, staring him down despite the fact that he’s a few inches shorter. Tension sparks between them, bursting over everyone’s bare skin, and a sudden nervousness burns in Will’s core. The room is covered in gasoline, and with one spark of fire, Percy and Nico will blow up.

At first, Will thinks maybe it’s his own anxiety that makes the room feel like it’s shaking - but then Annabeth’s eyebrows jump in surprise and she takes Will’s wrist, edging the two of them to the door slowly. Realizing that it isn’t just him who can feel the quaking, Will wraps an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder in the hopes that it will keep them safe from whatever bomb detonates between the other two demigods.

“Guys,” Annabeth mutters. “Calm yourselves. You are both children of the Big Three - remember how much power both of you have.”

The room continues shaking; neither boy looks at Annabeth. Percy’s eyes swirl with spark with angry energy. Nico’s hands raise at his side while he pulls himself into a fighting stance. Percy’s hands linger at his thigh, fingering a pocket.

Behind Will, a gurgling sound thrums in the walls, and in the kitchen a tap turns on. Annabeth’s gray eyes flash with fear and Will pulls closer to her, anxiety stabbing him in the chest.

“Guys,” Annabeth insists, “stop it.”

Will has never seen Nico look so enraged. His entire face turns fiery red and his paled hands shake at his side. The ground continues shaking, grumbling more persistently under his feet, and he knows that if neither him or Annabeth stop this, there will be serious consequences.

“We need to pull them apart,” whispers Will, staring at the demigods nervously. “Break them out of whatever trance they’re in. Otherwise you’re gonna have to pay for damage if Nico starts bringing skeletons in here.”

Annabeth offers a firm nod. The blonds edge close to the walls as they tiptoe towards the two, their balance tested by the quaking in the room. Will reaches out and touches Nico’s inner wrist, rubbing his skin softly in an attempt to bring Nico back, to make him stop drowning in his irritation. His hands feel cold and angry; only power buzzes underneath his skin, and it vibrates down Will’s own body. He almost pulls away in fear that Nico will turn on him instead.

Nico blinks and shifts to look at Will. The rage that took over him just seconds ago melts away and gives way to daze; his dark eyes cloud over with emotion. Will pulls him back from Percy just as Annabeth places a hand over her own boyfriend’s shoulder.

For a moment, all is silent. The quaking simmers down and soon the water in the kitchen slows to a trickle. Percy and Nico continue glaring at each other, but at least they aren’t going after one another.

Percy’s face only betrays anger, resentment, but there’s something else behind his eyes: guilt. Despite how enraged he looks, a frustrated tear blooms across his eye and slips down the side of his face. Almost immediately all his frustration spills out of him and forms a puddle on the floor, leaving him only deflated and exhausted.

“Nico,” he says, his voice strangled with emotions, “you’re like a brother to me. I- I know we haven’t had the best relationship in the past, and neither of us treated each other well. Me especially. But… We’ve had time to fix it. Our relationship isn’t perfect, and it probably needs more time.

“But, please,” Percy continues, desperation trickling into his voice, “don’t do this. I… I can’t imagine losing you. Not after all that happened. Not after everything that you had to go through.”

Nico watches him speak, letting the words from his mouth seep into his ears and harden around his brain. A wave of emotions crashes into his chest and he has to squeeze Will’s hand just to make sure he’s still standing.

Silence lingers in the air again, making itself comfy in the gaps between all the demigods. It doesn’t move for a long while.

Nico’s eyes brim with tears, which flash in the dim lighting of the dorm room. Will takes his other hand and balances it behind Nico’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Two tears roll down Nico’s cheeks as he says, “I’m sorry, Percy, but I have to. I’m glad we got to be friends again, but you know I have to do this. You know more than anyone how important it is to be there for your friends.” He lets go of Will’s hand and steps forward. “I’m going to save my friend Bob. And you know what, Percy? You’re helping me as your friend. If you let me go, you’re helping me make the world better for someone.”

Percy shakes his head. “For one person, Nico? A person who is literally strong enough to survive hell? You’re going to risk your life for that?”

“I- I can’t explain it,” Nico mutters. “I just know he needs my help. If he’s not getting in your dreams, then it must be me.” Nico sighs shakily and another tear falls. “I just… need to do this. So let me do it. I’m no longer that helpless eleven-year-old boy you knew, Percy; I’m old enough to take care of myself. I have been for a long time.”

Percy and Annabeth turn to each other, both their eyes glazed over with pity and guilt. Their eyebrows jump and narrow at each other as if having a silent conversation. Then Annabeth turns to Nico and says, “Then be safe, Nico. And it’s not too late to take us with you. Give us the word, and we’ll come.”

Nico shakes his head. “I’m not risking more lives. And you guys deserve to have this break and enjoy your education.”

“But you deserve a calm year, too,” Annabeth says. “We can give this up if you need us to.”

Nico shakes his head again. “I’ve had time to heal. I’m not completely mended yet, but I’ve grown. You guys had to go right back into your real life and become one with reality again. You deserve just a chance to relax with each other. I’m going.”

Nico turns to Will and leans against his side. A burst of joy erupts in Will’s chest and he melts into his boyfriend, basking in his warmth. “Besides,” Nico says, offering a small smile to Will, “I’m going to have Will with me. He can shoot a mean gun. I think we’ll be alright.”

A doubtful expression flashes against Percy’s face. “You’re sure?”

Nico’s hand squeezes Will’s fingers, and for the first time in a while, confidence rises in Will’s heart. He feels seen knowing that Nico’s finally accepted he’s coming; he’s ensured that Nico doesn’t see him as just a healer, but also as someone who he can count on to come down with him to the depths of the Underworld.

Nico trusts him. He trusts him with his life and safety. There is nothing more honorable than knowing that, after years of losing people (whether by death or by distance), there is someone in his life who truly believes in Will. His face heats at the realization that Nico’s ready to let him watch his back.

Will hopes he doesn’t fail Nico.

Percy smiles hesitantly. “Alright. But, again, if you need anything before you go… Please, for the love of god, tell us. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must be to go down there for a second time.” He frowns. “When are you leaving anyway?”

“Probably in a few days,” Nico says. “Just need to get some supplies, then we’re going to meet Rachel in Paris and get a prophecy.”

Pery nods. “Okay.” His green eyes swim between Nico and Will, concern pooling in them. “Just… watch out for each other, okay? If either of you die, I’m killing you.”

Nico cracks a smile, the first one in a while. “We’ll try not to die.” Then he nods his head to Annabeth. “Thank you both for the help.”

Annabeth snorts. “What help? All we did was argue.”

“Well, it helped. Just accept the grace.”

Nico and Will step back to the door. The blond turns back to look at Percy and Annabeth, who are both watching the boys with politely concerned eyes.

He smiles. “We’ll see you later. Hopefully.”

And with that, Nico and Will leave the door and walk away, edging closer and closer to whatever doom lies in their future.

[seokmingiggles]

comfortable.

@gloryofroses19 requested on 201219: “Would you write a fluff Min Yoongi one shot where he’s crushing on Jimin and Taehyung’s fellow 95er best friend who’s birthday is 11 days before Taehyung’s (aka today), so she and Yoongi get together when he find her taking a break on a balcony at a surprise birthday party they threw for her (lying to her that it was for Taehyung) even though they know she hates the idea of being the center/doesn’t like making a big deal about her birthday?”

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers(?), first confessions.

1.96k words

Warnings: some alcohol consumption.

At your surprise birthday party, you find yourself to be more enamoured by the musician accompanying you on your balcony than the happenings inside. Alternatively, where Yoongi has been waiting for the opportune moment to confess to you, unknowing that his feelings are mutual.

A/N: First of all, thank you for being my first request! I hope I’ve done your concept justice :) There are a couple of small details that I haven’t included, but the overall gist should be the same. I hope you enjoy it! And happy birthday if it’s anyone’s birthday who may be reading!

•• "I can't believe you two! This looks amazing. Thank you," Jimin beamed as he spun around to look at the array of decorations you and Taehyung had embellished his apartment with earlier that afternoon.

For Jimin's 25th birthday, you wanted to do something special. The boy was the biggest libra you knew—loving to host parties and social gatherings. While parties weren't typically your cup of tea, you and Taehyung knew that Jimin would appreciate the sentiment.

"I think we make a pretty good team, right, (Y/N)-ie?" Taehyung smiled back at Jimin's praise, patting your shoulder as he referred to you.

•

Only a couple of months later, you found yourself in a similar situation.

"Surprise!" A chorus of voices called out as you stepped into your apartment, Taehyung nudging you through the doorway as you were momentarily stunned.

"What's all this?" You forced a smile and directed the question to your tall friend beside you, slipping your shoes off and proceeding to remove your outerwear. You could already feel your face beginning to heat at all of the gazes directed at you.

Taehyung chortled, "It's for you, obviously. Happy birthday, (Y/N)-ie."

You had just been out for your annual birthday dinner with Taehyung and Jimin, your two best friends for many years. You should have suspected something when the elder suddenly stood from across the table shortly before he finished his meal, claiming he got an emergency text from his brother and had to leave right away. Really, the blond just wanted to make sure everything at your place was properly prepared before your arrival. Jimin picked up some last-minute snacks and drinks on his way to your apartment where everyone else was waiting patiently for your appearance.

You scanned the room around you. Where you'd normally have your comfortable, minimalist furnishings occupying the room, you found yourself standing before what had to be nearly a dozen people. You knew everyone here, that wasn't an issue. Instead, the matter was you simply didn't find joy in parties—even your own birthday party—despite the kind gesture from your two best friends who you knew put this gathering together out of love.

Your eyes landed on Seokjin, who was standing at your kitchen island having a conversation with Moonbyul and Sana; the two girls were laughing at something the eldest had said. Hoseok, Namjoon, and Nayeon, three you weren't completely familiar with, went to greet Taehyung behind you after wishing you a happy birthday. Mingyu and Jungkook were sitting on the sofa, each already with a drink in their hands. Yoongi sat in the armchair next to them; the youngest was beckoning you over to join them. As you were still a bit bewildered by the noise of the party, Jimin collected your hand and guided you to join him and the other three in the seating area.

Jimin took a seat on the floor after stealing a couch cushion to sit on, wanting to be close to the array of snacks organized on your coffee table. You figured it was because he had left the restaurant before he finished the last bits of his dinner (which Taehyung had no problem volunteering his stomach to handle the few remaining bites). You squished onto the end of the couch next to Mingyu, declining the offer of a drink that the boy held out to you as you sat down. Jimin accepted the drink on your behalf and the three gave a brief toast to you.

You eyed Yoongi for a moment. You knew him as a like-minded individual to yourself, in the sense that he also wasn't too fond of parties. Maybe that's why he was occupied with something on his phone. You noticed the slight pink tinge to his cheeks, likely from the beer, you considered, spotting the can on the side table next to him.

In reality, Yoongi was forcing himself to keep his eyes on his phone because he's sure he'd otherwise be caught admiring you. He already took in the pretty blush on the apples of your cheeks and the way you styled your hair nicely for your dinner with Jimin and Taehyung.

Yoongi didn't let himself have crushes very often, yet, he was unmistakably drawn to you. With your airy laughter and bright eyes and the most beautiful smile; how you'd appear lively even though he knew you were uncomfortable in party settings. Words couldn't encompass the effect you had on Yoongi. He was tongue-tied; smitten like a schoolboy having his first love.

He wanted to do something about his feelings for you, but he didn't know where to begin. Yoongi first met you through Taehyung when you were all back in college. He didn't know what to expect when the younger boy asked if he could bring his friend to Yoongi's piano recital later that spring but agreed nonetheless. Apparently, you were fond of classical music.

What was initially only some small talk at the end of the recital became a new acquaintance between the two of you. Sharing your favourite musicians and songs over coffee or the occasional study session after class happened naturally. Yoongi cherished the times you spent together during your studies. It was only natural for him to become disappointed when you drifted apart after graduation.

He thought that his feelings for you would subside from the distance created, but here he was in your presence once again, and it was like nothing had changed in his heart. He gulped down the last of his beer in an attempt to calm his senses.

•

Some playful conversation with your friends and a drink in you later, you found the heat radiating off your face becoming unbearable and decided to excuse yourself for a moment onto your balcony to regain your senses. For a one-bedroom apartment in the city, the balcony wasn't anything special to you. You typically didn't use it at all during the colder months of November to March, instead truly only utilizing it for the early summer sunrises that you had a front-row seat to.

Yoongi figured he must have done a poor job concealing his concern for you when Jungkook asked if he had too much to drink.

Yoongi just shook his head, muttering that he was fine as he watched you close the balcony door behind you.

"You should just tell her, hyung," Jimin had one hand on his full tummy and the other clutching a drink half-full, still sat on the floor. "Otherwise, nothing's going to keep happening between you two."

Yoongi tried to act like he was none-the-wiser of what the blond was talking about, only stopping his act when Jungkook interjected, "The least you could do is check if she's alright out there. Or maybe bring her a coat."

Yoongi wondered since when has Jungkook thought of good ideas? Especially after having a couple of drinks. The kid was more profound than he let on.

The nervous musician stood from the chair he'd been glued to thus far, wiping his clammy hands onto his jean-clad-thighs as he neared the balcony door after collecting your jacket. He told himself it was silly to be so anxious; he was only checking in on you.

Yoongi cleared his throat to prepare his voice from faltering, "Hey, are you feeling alright?"

You turned away from the cityscape to see him stepping outside, eyeing the bit of warm air escaping from inside as it became visible, mixing with the cool night atmosphere. The closed sliding door nicely muffled the overlapping voices and music from inside.

You nodded as Yoongi approached you, "I was getting a little bit stuffy inside. I'm good now, though. Crowds can wear me out after a while, especially in that small of a space."

"I'm the same way. I should've told those two to hold off on inviting so many people," the boy admitted. He briefly stood behind you to help you slip on the outerwear before taking a spot next to you by the railing.

"No, it's okay. I know how Taehyung and Jimin can get carried away when they plan something together. They were just excited and went overboard. Besides," you looked over your shoulder to peer past the door, "it looks like they're enjoying themselves, so it's all worth it."

The boy turned to look where your gaze was directed at, although he first admired the way your lips were tilted upwards as you watched your best friends dancing around in the living room with some of the other guests. Currently, Taehyung was trying to convince Seokjin to join him on the makeshift dance-floor between your furniture.

"This was supposed to be for you, though, (Y/N). It means nothing if you're not comfortable. If you're not enjoying yourself."

You turned your attention back to Yoongi, considering his point and then saying, "I'm comfortable. I feel comfortable out here with you, where it's much quieter other than the street noises below. You make me feel comfortable, Yoongi."

Despite the chilly December temperature, Yoongi's face never felt more warmed.

"You make me feel comfortable too, (Y/N)," he whispered. He saw your expression change as he spoke; you now looked genuinely content than how you were acting inside.

You maintained eye contact with the boy in front of you, taking in every feature on his face; the way his eyes looked in the moonlight, the small roundness of his nose, his cheekbones slightly flushed, his lips.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find Min Yoongi attractive. From the moment you first saw him, you had been entranced by his performance on the piano; and it grew every minute after. Beginning to learn more about him as a person just made your admiration grow stronger.

"Forgive me if I'm being too forward, but could I kiss you?"

Your eyes widened for a split second as you processed the words leaving Yoongi's mouth, but you found yourself nodding before you could verbalize your thoughts.

Yoongi brought his hand gently to the side of your face, grazing your hair out of the way before he leaned in to connect your lips. His hand was cold from standing outside, but his lips were hot; you relished in the feeling of moving your mouth against his. He tasted slightly of beer but smelled of vanilla and musk.

You finally parted but kept your bodies close. You noticed how your hand made its way to his arm while his other one was delicately resting on your waist.

"Was that okay?" Yoongi timidly asked, not removing his gaze from you, your noses barely brushing.

"That was wonderful, Yoongi. The best birthday present," you smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his torso.

"I can think of something better," he began, taking in the cute tilt to your head as you questioned his thoughts. "How about I take you out for dinner later this week. Does Saturday night work for you?"

You hummed like you were in deep thought, earning a light chuckle from the boy in your arms. "Tomorrow? I'll agree to dinner on one condition."

"And what might that be?"

You smoothed your thumb against his side, suddenly taking an interest in the collar of his jacket, "Could you kiss me again on Saturday?"

Now Yoongi was the one to pretend to be in profound consideration, finally replying, "I guess you'll have to wait to find out. But the odds seem likely. I like you a lot, (Y/N)."

"Good," you giggled, pulling him closer into your embrace, "I like you too. Otherwise, that whole interaction would have been uncomfortable."

Yoongi squeezed you back and smiled at your words, already wanting to kiss you once more without waiting for Saturday.

••

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 11

Pairing: Luke Patterson x OC

Word Count: 3.3K

Warnings: discussions of death, one mention of suicide, swearing probably

A/N: I can’t believe there’s only one more chapter and maybe an epilogue after this! Our journey is almost over. Just a heads up, the first part of this is kinda heavy as Jordan grieves but things lighten up along the way! As always, let me know what you think and you can message me/send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

Part 10  Masterlist

___

Jordan couldn’t properly explain how grateful she was for Luke’s hand in hers as Willie delivered the worst news she’d heard in her afterlife. She tried not to look too much into it, he was just returning the favor from his birthday. Still, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from it, like he was offering to share the weight of the situation with her.

She leaned into that comfort as the four ghosts went their separate ways. She spent the night in the loft wrapped up in his arms. Once they were alone she let herself cry, burying her face into his chest as he rubbed her back softly, holding her close to him.

They stayed that way until the sun came up, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she curled into him. They didn’t talk at all, neither of them really knowing what to say. Jordan wanted to scream at the world, to curse everyone and everything for taking her parents away from her once again. Instead, she relished in the silence, in the comfort of the arms around her. There would be time to scream tomorrow, but for the time being, she needed someone to help her carry the weight of her pain.

There was also a part of her that relished in the feelings of his arms around her, the warmth of his chest, the pleasant smell of his flannel which he’d wrapped around her when they left the Walk of Fame, insisting that she needed it more than him. The part of her that made butterflies swoop around her stomach and her head spin whenever they were this close.

She didn’t want to think about this part of her brain right now, Luke was only doing this because he cared. They were friends now (they’d actually been friends for a while, she realized) and friends were there for each other when they lost their parents, just like he’d been there for her twenty-five years ago. Just like she’d been there for him on his birthday.

Not to mention the guilt she felt every time her mind drifted away from thoughts of her parents to how comfortable but strong Luke’s chest was or how nice he smelled. She was losing her parents again and all she could think about was a boy.

She never stopped to consider that it was a testament to Luke’s comfort that her mind was able to stray at all.

Only once the sun came up and the world began to stir around them, the other boys returning and the lights in the Molina’s house started to flick on, did Luke speak as they untangled from each other.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, his arms still wrapped loosely around her as she pulled away. “I mean, of course you’re not, but-“

“No, I’m not,” she agreed, her voice coming out rough after the night of crying. He could see the tear stains on her cheeks now and it broke his heart. “I think I need some time alone today.”

“Okay,” he said eagerly, stretching his legs out and reaching for his flannel as she fully pulled herself away from him. “Okay, we can go-“

“No, Luke,” she said firmly but she knew she sounded weak and exhausted. “Just me.”

“I don’t want to leave you by yourself like this.”

“What am I gonna do? Kill myself?” She responded bitterly, raising her arms at the side as a reminder of their physical state, or lack thereof.

“Jordan-“ he gasped, reaching out for her but she stepped back.

“I just need some time,” she insisted, the rest of her statement remaining silent. ‘Time to process without thinking about you.’

___

She reappeared in the cemetery, this time taking a seat in front of the double grave next to her own.

The last time she was there she’d been puzzling at mortality and the bizarre and unfair nature of the situation she’d found herself in. This time wasn’t so different, but rather than mourning herself she was once again mourning her parents. The two most important people in her life who were once again being ripped from her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, unable to read the names on the tombstone in front of her, staring at the grass just in front of it. Briefly, she wished she had been able to bring them flowers. Time passed so differently as a ghost and her spiraling thoughts didn’t help any. The time she spent there was muddled and tear-filled. She thought at one point she pleaded with them to come back to her. At another point, she prayed to whatever gods she could think of.

No one answered and so she remained.

She was finally drawn out of her mind by the sound of footsteps moving towards her. She turned, expecting to see a fellow mourner but instead meeting Julie’s eyes.

She sniffled, turning back towards the grave, not bothering to hide her tears.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Julie asked softly when she finally reached her.

Jordan shook her head, not turning to look as her friend sat in the grass beside her.

“Luke told me everything,” Julie spoke up after they had sat in silence for a few minutes, “About Caleb and the curse, and the Orpheum, and crossing over.”

“I’m sorry we’re leaving you,” Jordan whispered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest.

“Me too,” Julie responded quietly, “I was really mad- I still am- but then Flynn and I talked and she reminded me that I’m not the only one who’s lost people.”

They let her words hang in the air for a moment before Jordan finally spoke, the words catching in her throat as they went.

“It feels like I’m losing them all over again.”

Julie nodded and Jordan caught the movement from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” she whispered, likely thinking about her own mom. “But hope isn’t lost. We just have to make sure you guys cross over in time.”

“They’re never gonna let us play the Orpheum,” Jordan dismissed, resting her chin on her knees as she stared tearfully at the ground, the anger welling up at her situation being overpowered by the hopelessness of it all.

“They will, they just have to hear us play and-“

“It’s okay Julie, I’ve resigned myself to the fact,” Jordan interrupted.

“Well I haven’t,” Julie said firmly before taking a shaky breath as if trying to brace herself for what she was going to say next.

“I lost my mom, and I’m not getting her back anytime soon.” Her voice cracked. “The least I can do is make sure you don’t lose yours too.”

___

When Julie and Jordan arrived at the studio they found the guys looking about as hopeless as Jordan felt. It was nice to know she wasn’t alone, but it hurt her to see them this way.

Reggie was sitting sideways in one of the chairs, looking mournfully at his bass while Alex laid across the couch, attempting to balance one of his drumsticks in his nose, and Luke sat on the floor between them. The scene itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, Jordan had watched them spend many a boring afternoon this way, but it was clear that the tone had shifted. They weren’t biding their time until Julie got home from school. They were biding their time until they died again.

“Snap out of it!” Julie yelled, startling the three boys who didn’t seem to have noticed their presence, Alex falling off the couch in shock.

“Geez, I think you broke Alex,” Reggie spoke, though his usually light, teasing tone was absent.

Once Luke helped push Alex off his lap and back onto the couch he patted the ground by his side in a silent invitation for Jordan to join him. Once she had sat down next to him, knees pulled up to her chest once more, he slipped a comforting arm around her, hand resting on her waist. If the rest of the group noticed, they didn’t say anything.

“Do you guys wanna cross over or what?” Julie asked, giving the ghosts a borderline disapproving look before getting frustrated by their silence. “Get it together!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands with each word for extra emphasis.

“They’re never gonna let us play the Orpheum,” Luke spoke, echoing Jordan’s words from earlier.

“We’re nobodies,” Alex added on, matching Luke’s dejected tone.

“We’re less than nobodies,” Reggie chimed in. “We have no bodies.”

Luke lifted his arm to point affirmatively at Reggie and Jordan almost laughed, but she couldn’t quite find it in her.

“Someone once told me that you don’t ask for permission,” Julie spoke, turning to address Luke specifically, “You book gigs by doing.”

Jordan rolled her eyes at the smug look that had appeared on Luke’s face, throwing an elbow into his side in an attempt to wipe away the expression.

“Ah yes, the Dumb-set Curve motto,” Jordan scoffed. In retaliation Luke used the hand already resting on her waist to jab at her side, causing her to curse and glare at him while he grinned cheekily.

“This isn’t over,” Julie spoke to the group, refocusing their attention. “We were brought together for a reason! To help each other.”

“Yeah, but like Luke said, people don’t just play the Orpheum because they want to,” Alex sighed and the rest of the ghosts nodded in agreement, the smile slipping off Luke’s face again.

“People don’t,” Julie agreed, “But ghosts do.”

Jordan turned to stare at Julie, her head tilted and eyebrows knitted together in confusion and curiosity.

“I have a plan,” Julie said before launching into an explanation.

There would be a show at the Orpheum that Friday night. All they needed to do was get rid of the opening act and get the promoter to offer the gig to them. This could actually work. For the first time since Jordan heard the news from Willie she actually began to feel hopeful.

___

Alex had managed to enlist Willie to their cause which was fortunate because Jordan was pretty sure none of the rest of them could drive a bus.

The four ghosts stood outside the Orpheum that Friday afternoon anxiously waiting for Willie to appear. Jordan had grabbed Luke’s hand early on and neither one had let go. It seemed that everyone’s spirits were higher that day than they were the day before, as Jordan noticed both Reggie and Alex occasionally glancing at their entwined hands and sharing knowing looks. She wasn’t quite back to where she’d be able to yell at them for it.

She had just started to contemplate if she’d still be holding Luke’s hand if it didn’t feel like the only thing keeping her grounded while everything fell apart around her when they were struck by another jolt, immediately tearing her from her thoughts.

“Hey, you guys okay?” Willie asked, appearing behind them as they each clutched their chests where the jolt hit them.

“Yeah,” Alex answered, the first to turn around and face the skater ghost. “Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before.”

“How’d it go?” Jordan asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. There was always the chance that their plan wouldn’t work.

“Well, when that opening band wakes up they’re going to find their bus two-hundred miles outside Vegas with no chance of getting back in time!” Willie announced with a giggle, adding a spin to emphasize his success.

“And that means there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freaking out,” Luke spoke, bumping his shoulder excitedly against Jordan’s with a grin, causing the girl to grin back at him.

“Nah, this is Hollywood man. I’m sure he’s being very professional,” Willie contradicted and Jordan rolled her eyes, not believing it for a second.

“Sure he is,” she said sarcastically.

The group lapsed into a tense silence after that, no one knowing what to say. A moment later Alex stepped closer to Willie, the two boys clearly about to have a moment. Jordan tugged on Luke’s hand, guiding him away to give Alex and Willie some privacy, and Luke gestured for Reggie to do the same.

“Jordan are you doing alright?” Reggie asked, trying to fill the silence while Alex and Willie spoke behind them. “We didn’t see much of you yesterday and you’ve seemed a bit… lost, since the other night.”

She couldn’t help the way her heart warmed at the fact that he’d noticed and cared enough to inquire about her, but she also couldn’t help the way her stomach dropped at the prospect of having to tell him what was going on.

“Reg, Jordan’s doesn’t have to-“ Luke began to cover for her but she squeezed his hand, stopping his words.

“It’s okay, Luke,” she said quietly before addressing the dark-haired boy. “How about if the plan works I’ll tell you, hmm?”

Reggie nodded, cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment at having overstepped.

The sound of Willie skateboarding away pulled them all from their thoughts, the three ghosts turning to rejoin Alex.

“Alex, you alright man?” Luke asked.

“Yeah,” Alex said, and Jordan was surprised that while he seemed to be psyching himself up to say it, he sounded sincere. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, thanks to Willie, Panic! at the Disco needs an opening band,” Luke grinned, giving Jordan’s hand a quick squeeze in reassurance and excitement.

“Then I guess there’s someone up there that needs to know we’re available,” Alex responded and the group shared knowing smiles before poofing up onto the Orpheum office.

They were immediately greeted by the screams and shouts of an angry promoter.

“Stop saying the bus drove itself! Busses don’t drive themselves!” The bald man yelled into the receiver before slamming the phone down several times.

“Yeah, total pro,” Jordan muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the grown man’s temper tantrum.

“Alright, boys- and girl-“ Luke squeezed her hand and Jordan was reminded of the night they died when Luke had addressed them similarly. “Let the magic happen. Alex, no dancing.”

Luke smirked when Alex jumped into a ballet pose before gracefully twirling behind the assistant’s desk and knocking over her pencil cup. Jordan grinned, jumping into action with the other boys as she poofed over to Alex, snatching the pen from his hand as she wrote down Julie’s name and number on a sticky note.

They all stepped away at once, Jordan dropping her pen on the paper as if it had burnt her, as the woman stood back up, having collected her belongings off the floor. Once she was back in her seat she was greeted by the sounds of Edge of Great playing through her computer speakers. Her bewildered expression was replaced with an impressed look as she watched their performance and the ghost surrounding her all shared a proud smile.

“Tasha! Get CJ on the phone, tell him I need a new band in three hours,” the promoter demanded.

“Sure, but you, might wanna check this out,” she said, and the promoter hung up the phone before walking over to see what she was talking about. Jordan poofed back to Luke’s side to stay out of the man’s way as he stood in the place she had just been. “Somehow this video started playing on my laptop. It got half a million hits in just two days.”

“Who are they?”

“They’re a hologram band. They call themselves Julie and the Phantoms.”

“Tell your friends,” Reggie chimed in even though neither of the lifers could hear him.

“Where are they located?” The promoter asked.

“Our very own City of Angel.”

“Book ‘em!” The producer exclaimed as if he couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation.

The band of ghosts cheered as Tasha stared puzzled at the pad of paper on her desk. She looked around suspiciously as she examined the contact information for Julie and the Phantoms.

“Wow your handwriting is better than mine,” Luke admitted grumpily as they all leaned over the woman’s shoulder.

“Obviously,” Jordan shot back snarkily with her signature eye roll and Luke reached down to rejoin their hands, smiling softly down at her and sending the butterflies in her stomach aflutter.

They poofed back to the studio after that, immediately greeted by an extremely anxious Julie pacing back and forth.

“Oh my gosh! What took you so long? Did Willie do it? Did you talk to them? Did they watch? Did they like us? Are we playing? Can someone answer me? Why is no one talking?” Julie questioned them rapid-fire, her arms waving around wildly as she did.

“Woah! That’s a lot of questions!” Reggie exclaimed, eyes wide. “Luke, you wanna take this one?”

“Take a seat,” Luke instructed, Julie sitting on the edge of the couch while the four ghosts gathered on the floor across from her.

“Everything’s fine,” Jordan chimed in, hoping to ease her friend’s worries.

“Yeah, you should be getting a call right…now!” Alex exclaimed, pointing at Julie’s phone in the middle of the coffee table however the screen remained blank.

Julie looked worriedly between the four ghosts before Alex spoke up again.

“Okay. Right… now!” Alex tried again, this time the phone ringing a second later.

Julie cheered excitedly, staring expectantly at the ghosts in front of her while the phone continued to ring.

“Answer it!” Jordan exclaimed while the guys gestured franticly towards the device.

“Oh! Right!” Julie slid her finger across the screen, answering the call. “Hello!”

“Hi, this is Tasha from the Orpheum in Hollywood,” the woman’s voice came through the speakers.

The room was suddenly filled with energy as the band began jumping around excitedly.

“Is this Julie of Julie and the Phantoms?” The woman’s voice rang out and Julie flung her arms out causing the ghosts to freeze their actions before she leaned forwards to scoop up her phone.

“Yes, it is,” Julie responded.

The room erupted once more into cheers from the ghosts and silent screams from Julie as they jumped around the studio. They were playing the Orpheum!

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Jordan wasn’t thinking about her parents, her head filled with the brown-haired boy who was still clutching her hand even in his excitement and who’s smile created flurries of butterflies in her stomach and caused her heart to swell with emotions she could quite explain.

Too caught up in her feelings and the excitement of the moment to think about what she was doing, Jordan tilted up onto her tip-toes and planted a quick kiss on Luke’s cheek before pulling away to jump celebrate with Alex and Reggie. However, before she could get far, Luke was pulling her back by their still-connected hands.

“You missed,” he said quietly before he leaned down and connected their lips.

The kiss was brief but felt like it lasted an eternity. Jordan’s mind went completely blank and her body moved on autopilot, gripping Luke’s hand like it was the only thing tethering her to existence. In the back of her mind, she registered the end of Julie’s phone call with the woman from the Orpheum and Alex and Reggie’s cheers dying off. If her brain hadn’t short-circuited she probably would’ve connected the sudden silence with the rest of the band staring at her and Luke however that reality didn’t hit her until they pulled away.

Their cheeks flushed as they stepped away from each other, meeting each other’s eyes just long enough for Jordan to give him a brief smile before letting go of his hand and skipping excitedly towards Alex and Reggie who seemed torn between wanting to comment and pretending they hadn’t seen.

“Say something and I promise I’ll find a way to kill you both again,” Jordan threatened cheerfully as she threw her arms around their shoulders before tilting her head back and shouting excitedly, “We’re playing the Orpheum!”

“We’re playing the Orpheum, baby!” Julie repeated throwing her arms into the air and the guys all responded with whoops and cheers, Luke and Jordan’s kiss momentarily forgotten.

Part 12

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx @morganayennefertyrell

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @cordeliascrown @lukewearingbeanies @bright-molina

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

How do the BL students cope with missing their s/o? (like they're on a mission or something and won't be back for a long time) Bonus points for including how they react to seeing them again lol. Congrats on the big 100 btw

[Thank you! This is a little late but I was amazed to see so many people reading these posts.I’m pretty proud of this one.I wrote this as a ‘first time they’re apart’ kind of scenario. Hope it is to your liking! :3]

Dimitri: 

Karma really does bite, and boy does it do so hard

More often than not it is Dimitri leaving you behind for missions. Being the leader of the Lions meant that he was stationed at almost every important battle. Sometimes you’d join, and others the professor would decide to have someone else take up arms. No biggie, you know? He never complained since it guaranteed your safety.  

He didn’t even think of the possibility of a role reversal. One where you’d be sent out while he’s left behind. Up until now he was always by your side, but Manuela knew his limits better than anyone. She insisted he take the month off to rest. 

Once again, no biggie. He’d much rather be productive but with some convincing he easily gave in. Everyone departed for the monthly mission and he decided to invest some of the extra time on his hands into an evening with you 

He was about to search for you, but then memory did it’s job.

“Ah, that’s right. They departed with their battalion this morning...”

Dimitri wasn’t used to the silence of an empty Monestary. Was it always this hollow when the army was deployed? There were some people, yes. However most areas appeared almost lifeless. 

It brought up some unpleasant memories to say the least. Ones of a dusk castle, strangers on every corner, empty dinner tables, and cold nights spent staring up from his balcony. 

The time he spends without Dedue glued to his side is full of reflection. Once he’s trained, eaten, studied up, etc. He’ll stroll around the monastery and think of what his life has become 

How fragile the peace is. How much longer will it last?  

He wanted to talk with someone. The silence was deafening and he wished for a distraction before the voices made their appearance. 

They did.

He wished for you to come home. Despite the voices screaming that he had no right to long for your comfort, the desire still remained.  

 Was it the same for you when he’d depart? This...lonely? 

He hoped not. 

Since when had Dimitri become assimilated to the daily nonsense that was his life? 

Dedue had caught on to his highness’ feelings instantly. Dimitri was more reminiscent than usual, and often his walks would take him to your room. He wouldn’t enter, just look at the door as if expecting it to open. He wasn’t one to talk of the past as it made him uncomfortable, but sometimes Dedue would catch him smiling at nothing. It was a welcome change to have happy memories. 

When you come home it’s as if Dimitri has a new aura. Well, maybe not entirely but he has a more solemn look in his eyes when they meet yours. He spends the first day being caught up on politics with the Professor and Seteth, but for many nights beyond the return he seeks your company 

He wants to hear your voice. The one he craved for when the silence became intolerable 

“I’ve returned my beloved, would you care to tell that story from the other night again? I know it has only been one day but I would love to hear it.” 

Dedue: 

Time alone with you was already a rarity, so your complete absence didn’t dieter him as much as one would think. Dedue’s schedule rarely has a slot for free-time, and so the days pass on like seconds 

As long as there is no specific reason to worry then he refrains from doing so. Dedue genuinely believes in your strength and capabilities so he won’t needlessly fret over nothing. He has his own duties to attend to just as you do. 

However, this doesn’t mean he feels nothing on the matter. Others can gossip about him all they want but his nationality doesn’t define his personality. Not that he cares, since his stone exterior hides signs of weakness 

Let’s get this straight: he does miss you. While not in surplus, your time together is precious to him. He notices how your seat is empty during lessons and meetings. He unconsciously checks the training hall’s door during his regime, impatiently waiting for you to pop in and say your daily ‘hello’. He’s painfully aware of the extra pair of gardening gloves in his tool pail. Dedue knows that you are gone and it has an impact. 

He just ignores it. Dedue knows that when duty calls it must come before personal issues. Even if there is no contact between you two, he would rather no letters than one relaying distress 

If his highness asks about his feelings Dedue’s replies are short and curt. He does not wish for any worry or pity. 

One small sign that Dedue is off-put is that he becomes forgetful. It’s something only those who know him well can pick up on. For example: he won’t bring any writing utensils to a meeting. To a stranger this is a common mishap that happens to everyone. Only people who know Dedue well will see that someone as responsible as him wouldn’t forget something so minute 

Another is the short sighs he lets out. Nothing drawn out or dramatic, just quick puffs of air through the nose- kind of like a huff. They’re very difficult to catch and are a habit when he feels impatient or restless 

The day you come home isn’t a large extravaganza. Prince Dimitri accompanies him to greet the returning troops, but it doesn’t take a wise man to see that he mainly came for moral support. You were his friend as well, and he also wanted to see Dedue happy. 

When you come into sight Dedue approaches as if it’s a normal day. Your appearance is a bit too worn-down for his liking, and he says so. He asks if the journey went well, and whether it did or not he gives a minuscule smile 

If you return it he’ll pat your head. A welcome home, if you will 

“Come. Let us speak of the time we were apart. I would like to hear of your travels” 

Felix:

Simple solution. Whenever Felix feels as if he’s missing your presence he’ll go find you. 

Oh wait 

He can’t lmao 

It doesn’t hit him how big your role is in his life until you’re forced to be apart. All it took was a few days for Felix to feel like something was missing

At first he’s in denial. What is he, a child? A grown man doesn’t need someone to lean on, or keep him company, or check on him...or to give him encouragement......make him laugh....listen to his problems............okay. Maybe he does. 

At the beginning he seems put together but gradually as the days go on Felix becomes socially intolerant. The only person he wants to talk with is you, and you’re not there. Anyone else can buzz off or they’re getting snapped at

No one says anything either. Sometimes you can’t when the only solution is so far away 

Felix works extra hard when you’re gone. No one’s there to force much needed breaks onto him. From morning till dusk he’ll train and only stop for meals.

It’s his distraction. Every time that familiar pang shows up the training dummy gets another slice 

What’s happened to him? He was never so dependent on another person. Yeah, he has people that he cares about but their presence was never a necessity in his life 

The pain only intensifies as he thinks of what you’re doing, the dangers you’re facing, other (men/women) making you smile-

Oh....Oh no. Dear god he’s in love que the dummy’s head being sliced off

He’s waiting in your room on the day you get back. You’ll walk in to see him reading at your desk, only for the book to snap shut when you open the door 

A bit roughly he’ll pull you in for a hug. Not too tight, if you wanted to escape it you could

“Look. I’ll only say this once so you better listen...don’t leave for that long ever again. If you have to then I’m going with. No arguments”        

Ashe:

He’s fine. It’s okay. Ten days in and life goes on, you know? Today he played with some of the stray cats in the monastery like he normally would. The only off part was that he forgot to bring fish treats, normally you’d do that. 

Then he ordered some sweet buns for dessert after dinner; it was his usual order on your rare dates. Those days you’d snatch one but this time they were all his

He had them in the garden with some mint tea and watched the sun set. The last time he did that you decided to braid his hair while he told bad puns about his patchy facial hair fiasco. This time he viewed in tranquil silence 

Later in the evening he practiced archery to unwind. Lately Caspar agreed to be his training partner with you gone. He’d collect the arrows shot and help reposition the targets. You would normally do the same and in turn Ashe would wake up extra early to help you in the morning. 

At night he curled up in bed with “Loog and the Maiden of Wind,” picking up from where he left off. It was easy since you had given him a copy with a built-in cloth bookmark for his birthday. He loves it to pieces. 

Please come home When his eyes began to feel heavy he tucked it under his pillow for the day. 

Under the covers he shifted to get comfortable, and just like every night he ended up cuddling one of his pillows 

How much longer 

He closed his eyes 

....

..........

What was taking so long? The professor never mentioned that the journey would take weeks? There haven’t been letters either...

Where are you? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Are you eating properly? Are you sleeping right? He should have asked Seteth to let him accompany you. Are you on your way home? Should he go ask? No, it’s late. Asking now would be a bother-

 He misses you so much. No amount of time spent absorbing himself in different hobbies makes the discomfort in his chest go away. Everything reminds him of you. 

When you come home he’s front and center at the gate. The professor had taken pity on the boy (courtesy of Flayn’s plea) and arranged his schedule to be free all day. He spent it chatting with gatekeeper until troops appeared in the distance 

The moment you’re in sight he’s skipping down the stairs and greets you with the warmest embrace. The second you pull back he’s peppering kisses on your cheeks. 

“You’re back! I’ve missed you so much I can’t even begin to explain. Let’s go eat dinner and you can tell me all about the trip” 

Sylvain:

Is it weird that with you gone Sylvain actually begins to be a productive human being?

He spends the newfound spare time at the stables with the horses, or helping with chores around the monastery. Very rarely is he found goofing off 

Weird. Most would expect him to let loose considering how you have him on a ‘ball and chain,’ as he puts it 

So???? How come he chooses now to be responsible. 

Simple. He only acts rebellious to get a rise out of you

Just kidding lol. Only partially

While he does get a free show out of your nagging, it isn’t the reason he behaves like that. Neither why he’s suddenly ‘turned over a new leaf’

Sylvain highly respects you. Not only do you work hard but you’re also one of the most genuine people he knows. He’ll never say it to your face but before he loved you Sylvain looked to you as a role model. He never could have imagined that someone with such an authentic set of emotions would become his partner 

He also puts you through hell with all the trouble he gets in. Anyone else would have ended the relationship by now with so many FALSE rumors of adultery on his end. Yet you never gave up on him.  

In short, you’ve stood by him through thick and thin. From daily mess ups to the more deeper problems. You’ve been a major pillar that he leans on.

So that’s what he’s going to be for you. While you’re away he’s going to pick up the slack and make sure there’re no messes waiting for you to come home to 

Just him and maybe a few snide jokes. You know, a couple of dramatic whines about all the trouble he went to in making sure your room stayed clean 

Sometimes it gets difficult to turn down the invites from his peers, but he holds strong. The change is so drastic that Byleth even jokes about sending you away more often. 

He takes it with a grain of salt. They’d never exploit their students like that and he knows it 

When you arrive home he’s waiting patiently in your room. In one arm there’s a blanket and in the other a feather duster c’mon he has to make this believable

“Well there’s the (man/woman) of the hour. Do you realize the horrors that I’ve endured these past weeks? I cleaned this room EVERY DAY. You owe me big time!”  

Sylvain demands that for all the worry, strife, and hard labor you put him through; he deserves an afternoon nap with his partner. Will you let him slack off?

Annette: 

Busy, busy, busy!!!

She has so many chores to get done, books to read, people to talk to, and songs to sing 

She hated to say goodbye, but eventually you’ll come home. This isn’t like before. You’re not like him. 

Annette trusts you

She loves you 

While you’re gone she’ll think of all the things you can do together when you get back. What’s a better way to use the time, right? 

She 100% plans to blackmail you into treating her for lunch. How could you leave her behind to watch over everyone by herself? So cruel...

There are mild worries that fill her heart. Thoughts on your health for one. Whether you’re skilled in faith or not it doesn’t matter to her. 

She kind of wishes that the professor scheduled her to fight as well. However, things were better this way.

Annette will make sure you have somewhere wonderful to return to 

She even writes a small ‘welcome home’ jingle! Anything to bring out your smile 

People will occasionally ask how she’s holding up. After all, if Annette doesn’t worry about herself then of course others will do it for her. 

And yeah. Sometimes it does get rough. She’s human and naturally her partner means the world to her. Who the hell would be okay with sending their loved one away? 

It’s just that if she isn’t optimistic than who will be. Who’s going to give you encouragement when you need it most? Isn’t that what being a couple is about? To have faith and believe in each other? 

That’s why she’s okay. She’ll sing those fear demons away and take comfort in knowing you’ll come home with everyone else

And when you do she’s there with a few of your favorite flowers. She’ll congratulate you on a job well done whether the battle was a win or lose, and literally force you into her dorm to talk the hours away.

“Welcome home! I had plenty of time on my hands while you were away so I wrote a small song...i-if it’s okay then can I sing it for you? I promise it’s not about tasty cakes this time haha!” 

Mercedes:

The daily church hymn lifts her spirits. Mercedes’ devout faith is what supports her during moments of weakness 

You’ve probably guessed this, but every day you’re in her prayers. 

Not that you weren’t before, but now she spends a little more time mulling over possibilities of danger. Some extra blessings couldn’t hurt either 

She does find her thoughts trailing over to you often as well. Not anything negative but instead the happier memories. Saying goodbye was a rough blow when realization hit that your return date wasn’t definite 

Alas, the goddess will protect you. Mercedes steels herself to be patient and invest her energy into more productive things 

Mercedes is sort of like the big sister of all her friends. The doting type. Without you around she has all this pent up affection, and the lions get the blunt end of it

They’re an outlet that she uses to distract herself from not having you around. Not that they necessarily mind it (maybe Felix but he’ll get over it)

The time she’d spend with you is used to bake for the monastery children, or help with chores. She uses it wisely and also works on some of her own hobbies. 

You may or may not find some well-stitched embroidery on your socks. She goes all out and even offers to help mend Dimitri’s battle-worn cape. That thing needed a literal miracle to return to it’s former glory 

Life isn’t much different aside from your lack of presence. With each day she finds herself looking forward to your return, and occasionally she’ll inquire with the professor about it. Mercedes is known for her patience, and it truly is a virtue in many cases. Definitely in this one. 

When note of your future return arrives she can’t help but smile. If allowed she’ll ask to read the letter of notification herself and will do so with incredible focus. She’ll clutch one hand to her chest in relief before giving it back and leaving to return to her duties 

and so it goes until your return. She might not be able to come meet you at the gate, but at first sighting she’ll engulf you in an embrace. 

After a once-over for any injuries, she’ll insist that you have tea together. Hell, Mercedes would be happy if you two could just chat together on the nearest bench. There’s so much to talk of and now you two have all the time in the world 

“It’s so nice to see you again! Oh my...it feels like forever since I have seen you smile. I almost forgot how contagious is is haha” 

Ingrid: 

If it was up to Ingrid than she would be positioned right at your side. You two work well as a duo both on and off of the field. The army would benefit from your skills being magnified as a team 

She also wouldn’t have to deal with this ungodly sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Don’t misunderstand- Ingrid isn’t the protective type. She trusts in your capabilities both as a fighter and person. It’s only that being away for so long is a rarity, and she needs time to adjust. 

She’d just have to trust in the other people stationed at your side to do what she can’t  

If she knows any of them personally then Ingrid 100% approaches to ask that they watch your back 

That takes care of any worry, but not of the crack in her daily life 

Ingrid has much on her shoulders. Her family, Fargeus’ future, her friends, what food’s being served in the dining hall, if it tastes good or not, the church, the ‘flame emperor’, and you of course.

She’s also the type of person who likes uniformity: a schedule. You’re a part of that and being so far disrupts it. She’s afraid that her personal emotions will tap into her ability to fulfill her duties  

Everyone else assures her otherwise. Ingrid is known for always giving 110% so a while of just 100% is no big deal. She is allowed to be human 

She’s allowed to miss you. Her friends assure her of it 

She’s allowed to worry. There’s no need to sear shut her fears. After losing Glenn...well, it’s understandable. 

She’s allowed to ask for news updates. The professor has encouraged this. 

She’s allowed to go in your room if she needs alone time. You said so before leaving. 

However, Ingrid doesn’t allow herself those comforts until days after your departure. When you said goodbye it unsettled her stomach in more ways than one. It took some time to sort through her emotions while still maintaining her responsibilities

It took everything for Ingrid to move on from the past, and this experience set in a sense of gratitude for all that she’s been given. It also was an opportunity for her to reminisce over what she has lost, and still has to do. 

Needless to say, when you return Ingrid has gained a newfound confidence and comfort in not having a set schedule for life. Everything has always felt as if it needed to be rushed, but meeting you wasn’t something she had planned nor sped into. Spending some time to focus on her own personal goals aside from the ones preset for her before birth aided in Ingrid coming to terms with that. 

“Hello. It’s been so long that I hardly recognize you! What? It’s a joke!...Yes, I know how to tell jokes- hold on this is supposed to be a heartfelt reunion so don’t ruin it!” 

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.21}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.8k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"Tell me again." Cas demanded as she snatched a piece of bacon off Simon's plate, while keeping her piercing gaze fixed on Robin. "Why are you wearing way fancier clothes than normal?"

"I told you that I'm not telling you, and that's not going to change no matter how many times you ask." Robin shrugged, then subtly moved her own bacon over to Simon to compensate for his loss. The boy thanked her with a small smile, but obviously didn't dare to interrupt the girls' conversation with words. So Robin looked back to Cas. "You'll just have to wait and see like everyone else. Showing some patience will do you good."

"I do have a suspicion." Jorien smirked quietly while Cas just pouted, and Robin quirked an eyebrow at her, which however didn't bother the girl at all. "You don't have to glare at me, I didn't plan on telling anyone."

"Good." Robin replied in an equally quiet tone, but she couldn't help the feeling that Jorien knew a lot more than she let on. Even more than she should know, perhaps. Oh well… only time could confirm that.

"I honestly can't believe that Professor Snape is going to do our dancing class!" Cas finally got over herself and continued with her usual morning-ramble that never failed to entertain at least half of the table they were residing at that day. "I mean, I did watch him while he was dancing with Robin last year, but I honestly can't imagine how he's going to cope with people having to touch him. Melissa and I saw how Professor Sprout put her hand on his arm last week while deep in conversation, and he literally flinched away before giving her a death glare. If you ask me, that man has some serious problems."

"Who do you think he's going to force to dance with him?" Gideon asked with a humoured huff, and Robin suddenly found herself glad that she never spoke much during meals. That way at least nobody thought her oddly quiet on the issue.

"Oh gods, I have no idea." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and then sighed. "I'm bloody curious nonetheless. I literally can't imagine him actually dancing today in the first place, and hadn't I seen it before, I promise you I would be entirely convinced that he can't dance at all."

"I'm pretty sure the entire school watched him dancing at last year's ball… Who would've thought that was ever in the realm of possibility." Gideon shrugged, then glanced at Robin. "Say, why did you even agree to dance with our very own dungeon bat? I think you might just be the only one who ever did."

Robin thought for a second about telling them that she had been the one to ask him in the first place, but that wouldn't really fit in with his 'scary professor' image and she wouldn't dare scraping at that. So she settled for a different truth, which came out a bit more harshly than intended. "I will gladly dance with him again any time, if that's what you're wondering about, and I would choose him over any of the imbeciles who think it necessary to insult him to flatter their own meek egos. I haven't ever had a better partner, and it was I who was lucky to have that dance indeed, so until you can keep up with that, you'd better be keeping your noses in your own business."

The group was quiet for a moment, while everyone was obviously feeling scolded by Robin's words, but she didn't bother rectifying her intentions. Should they know that she didn't appreciate it when they spoke badly of Snape, or subjected themselves to pathetic gossip and rumour. The only one who looked rather amused by the entire thing was Jorien, which in return put fuel to Robin's belief that the girl knew more than her peers.

"So, what do you think Lisa is going to wear to the ball, huh? Not that hideous thing she showed us in the magazines, hopefully…" Cas finally broke the silence, changing the topic as easily as if the awkwardness before hadn't happened at all, and when everyone engaged in cheerful chatting again, Robin was honestly glad for the average student's shallow approach to conversation. Sometimes, it truly was a gift that other people didn't overthink quite as much as she did herself.

Breakfast went by quickly from there on, without any more disconcerting questions or topics other than the ordinary kind, and once the meal was officially over, the great hall became increasingly more vacant. When the boys finally went to leave, Robin got up as well, but instead of accompanying them to the exit, she made her way to the head table unseen by those whose eye she was trying to avoid, and then spent the next few minutes discussing the terms of their bullshit bingo with Snape. They intentionally engaged in this topic of conversation rather than discussing something of actual importance, such as the impending dancing instruction, for that would have reminded both of them of the uncomfortable truth that by lunch, the entire school would likely be talking about this. About them, dancing. Last night, neither of them really had thought about the consequences of having to hide just how close they were while being in the center of public display like this, but then again, it didn't change a thing now that they were suddenly hyper aware of all the very real students around them. Students who were taking more and more interest in the two black-clad figures standing where once the head table had been even after everyone else was gone. Robin's face was set in calm neutrality as always, just like Snape wore his usual scowl, but when they looked at each other once more for a brief moment of reassurance, Robin knew that they both had made their decision, and now they would go through with it. Happily, and without a hint of regret whatsoever. She almost would've smiled to herself when she turned back towards the students ahead of them, and mirrored his stance with her arms crossed behind her back while they watched the dunderheads in silence. Public display or not, this would be over soon, and she would enjoy it as good as possible.

When the hall was finally cleared of tables and seats, and it was just the fourth year Slytherins on one side and the Ravenclaws on the other, all it took was for Snape to move a few steps towards the middle of the hall for everyone to fall silent within seconds. The sheer power he held over people with his mere presence still gave Robin chills, but unlike the effect he had on everyone else in the room, those chills were very much pleasant ones for her. The neutrality on her face stayed set in stone nonetheless, and for a while she merely listened to him explaining the common ordeal much like McGonagall had, but with one subtle difference. She had explained dancing as a cultural custom, a form of etiquette much like properly using one's cutlery, with a clear focus on getting the movements right and sustaining a sense of elegance. Snape however had a bit of a different understanding of what it meant to dance, and Robin couldn't help being mesmerized by the deeper meaning behind his not-quite-so shallow explanation; to him, dancing obviously was an art. It was like a dialogue without words, a mutual understanding of giving and taking with equal care and attention. A game of control and surrender, and yet of equality and trust. Foremost, it was all about one's partner, and not about upholding an outside appearance. That perhaps was the only part he worded quite as directly as Robin knew he meant it, but she had no idea how much of this actually got through to the students. Then again, what wasn't there to understand about the delicacy of a swift and smooth waltz? Going by the looks on the students' faces, obviously a lot.

After the unintentional poetry that seemed entirely wasted on most people currently present, Snape went on to explain the actual dance. Six basic steps, no more and no less, but Robin didn't particularly listen to that part for more than the constant flow of his voice. Instead, she sought out Cas and Jorien in the group of Slytherins, and as her eyes traveled over the students, she found herself surprised by just how many of the faces she had seen before. The vast majority of the fourth years was almost familiar to her at this point, and the rest at least somewhat recognizable. She'd never realized that she'd tutored almost all of them before. But what were their names again…? Good gods, her respect for her teachers grew an ineffable amount for memorizing hundreds upon hundreds of names like it was nothing. How did they do that anyway?

Lost in thought and silent question to herself, she missed the rousing of whispers around the room, the glances thrown at her, and was only drawn out of her head when Snape's voice suddenly sounded from right next to her.

"It is time." He said almost under his breath, in a soft tone that would very well betray his indifferent expression if anyone else would have heard but Robin. Then he offered a hand to her in a simple and silent question, which brought the faintest smile to Robin's lips in return. Of course he wouldn't actually ask, at least not with about fifty pairs of eyes fixed on them quite so intently.

"They're all staring at us…" She breathed with a hint of a smile, then placed her hand in his and ignored the surge of electricity that ran up her arm upon the brush of skin against skin. "Well, at least you have their fullest attention now."

"We do." He corrected quietly as he led her back to the middle of the hall, under the careful watch and quiet commentary of their students, before stopping short and drawing her closer to himself. Robin's hands found their destined places without conscious thought while Snape's did the same, and while she wanted to sigh at the gentle warmth of his palm pressing against her back, she also wanted to smile when he almost leaned into her touch in return. It wasn't a visible reaction, obviously, and neither did she give one herself, but rather a common feeling that fell over them like a soothing blanket of safety and belonging. Her thoughts didn't linger however when a soft music started playing out of nowhere as soon as they had found their positions, and with the easy grace that was to be expected of a proper waltz, they started moving through the wide space of the hall.

It really was quite like he had explained, a wordless dialogue spoken entirely with the eyes in a lingering gaze, and a fixed focus solemnly on each other in the shared movements of the dance. Before long Robin couldn't help smiling a little more brightly than her facade of neutrality could cover up for, but she honestly couldn't care less about it. How was she supposed to hide both her feelings for Snape AND the joy of dancing with him? Impossible. Thus, as it seemed, showing a bit of the lesser evil was the best she could do, and if she looked closely enough, he seemed to be fighting a similar war within himself.

It was much too soon when the musical piece floated to an end on its last notes, and they came to a stand in the middle of the room, which oddly enough had remained quite silent throughout the whole endeavour. Robin's chest was heaving ever so slightly –it had been a while since she'd gotten so much exercise– and she had trouble tearing her eyes away from his, even after the broken second it took her to remember the many students gawking at them. Her smile dimmed down the remaining bit back into neutral territory, she focused on calming her breathing, and finally also took a step backwards to an appropriate distance to her partner. The roaring fire inside of her however didn't dim down in the least, and as she held his gaze for a moment longer, she had no doubt he got a clear view of just that in her eyes. It made the corners of her lips quirk up for a fraction of a second, which elicited much the same reaction from him for an even shorter moment, before he finally turned back towards the students in complete professor mode and with the usual grandeur and billowing robes. Instead of smiling at his antics like she wanted to, Robin merely crossed her arms behind her back with his mirrored signature indifference painted on her face and thought about the last five minutes.

All in all, they had done remarkably well; to the students, it had been nothing but a factual demonstration of a dance, that much she could read on their faces now. It was odd, really, and oh so typical that all of Snape's and even her own microexpressions had gone unnoticed by the majority of students at least. If it hadn't, there surely would be more glances and whispers now. Instead, most of the students simply looked either bored or eager to start practicing themselves, and that really was as good an outcome as she could've hoped for. No one suspected a thing. Brilliant!

Snape briefly gave a few more instructions for the following practice session, effectively threatening everyone to stay in line, and while the students then more or less reluctantly paired up to try their luck, he came to stand next to Robin once again.

"Thank you for a perfect dance." His voice took on the same quiet tone as before, and Robin didn't miss the subtle brush of his arm against her shoulder as he moved past her. She had to smile before she could help it, while her poor pathetic heart skipped more than just one beat.

"Anytime." She breathed in return, and after the second it took her to get a grip on herself now again, they both went on to do just as planned; instructing the dunderheads in the art of dancing, and playing their little game of slightly modified bullshit bingo on the side.

It really was quite a blessing that McGonagall had given them the shorter time frame before lunch, for in no time at all it was nearing noon, and the lesson came to an end when the tables had to be put back into place for the meal. Funnily enough, the students' practice had been more than successful, and in comparison to Robin's memories, the young Slytherins and Ravenclaws had done a whole lot better now than the mixed Slytherin and Gryffindor students under McGonagall's tutelage back then. While the students settled down at the tables that were put back into place, Robin told Snape about her observation –not without a sense of pride, admittedly– and he seemed more than pleased with her words as well. Not that he would ever admit that much while in public, but Robin could tell by the not-smirk and the fairly smug expression he gave McGonagall when she showed up for lunch entirely oblivious to the conversation that had taken place seconds before. That, and he had won at their game by far, which also served to brighten his mood enough to actually show. Yes, for a more or less spontaneous dancing lesson on a gloomy Saturday morning, they really had done their very best, and had –against all odds– had quite a bit of fun on the side.

When the other professors started appearing at the head table in a shocking eagerness not for the impending lunch but for the hottest gossip about the recent dancing class, Robin took it as her cue to leave. She did feel sorry to leave Snape for their curiosity to prey on, but there was nothing she could do other than giving him an encouraging smile and say 'laters' in the hopes he would know that he still had their afternoon plans which he could look forward to. If he was remotely as happy about them as she was, that is. But then again, finishing their experimental potion and taking a walk in the snow were rather lovely prospects indeed.

With an almost defeated sigh, Robin finally made for the Ravenclaw table where Jorien and Cas had already taken a seat and were now chatting (or rather bickering) away like always.

"Hey guys… how'd you like the dancing?" She asked as she flopped down on the bench next to Jorien, for the space next to Cas was obviously reserved for the boys who had yet to appear. "Both of you did quite well, actually, if you'd fancy to hear my opinion on it."

The girls fell silent in but a second, and then continued to stare at Robin for a moment in an unspoken agreement that made her uneasy. Had she said something wrong? It was just supposed to be a compliment…

"Are we really doing this?" Cas asked in return, ignoring the previous question entirely.

"Yes we are." Jorien chuckled. "It's Robin, what did you expect?"

"Nothing but this, actually."

"Right?!"

"Guys!" Robin protested with a frown, and alternating glances between both of them. "What's going on? Explain."

"Did you know that you smiled while dancing with Snape?" Cas asked with a smug smile of her own. "Not enough for anyone else to take special notice of, obviously, but we've known you and your subtlety for years now. It was hard to miss that you actually smiled for once."

"And?" Robin raised an eyebrow at her in return, and she had a vague feeling where this conversation was going. Not good.

"You never smile." Cas replied with a huff in amusement. "You smirk, or sneer, but you never smile."

"Of course I smile! Quite often even." She defended herself immediately, but as she ran through her memories of instances where she'd knowingly smiled, she came to realize that the majority if not all of them had been in the sole company of one potions professor. Oh dear.

"You don't, Robin. Hardly ever, and even then it's not like an actual happy smile. Nor is it sincere like this one." Jorien added in a bit more mildly, but no less amused. "It was nice to see what you look like when you truly enjoy yourself."

The heat crept up and along Robin's neck and onto her cheeks in an instant, while the churning of her stomach grew a bit too strong to merely indicate a timely desire for lunch. Bloody hell, she hadn't really thought about how the girls might perceive the situation… they did know her a lot better than any of the other students indeed, and that might very well lead to some unforeseen consequences. It already had, obviously. Damnit.

"Well, and so what? I did enjoy myself a lot while dancing, yes. I already told you during breakfast that he's the best partner I've ever had, so logically I do enjoy dancing with him. Otherwise I'd hardly have volunteered to help him with the lesson." She tried to shrug it off like she often did when she didn't want to talk about an issue. Playing things down, and distracting the opponents by giving small chunks of the truth on other areas. "He's my friend, of course I'd help him with the class. Especially when McGonagall just asked him to do it out of the blue last night."

"Oh, so he's your friend now, huh?" Cas grinned, and Jorien smacked her in the shoulder across the table, much to the blond girl's irritation. "What, I didn't say anything wrong! Before now, Robin always rather made a point of it that they're just working together."

"It's not supposed to become known that we're friends, alright? It might give people the wrong impressions, so keep your voices down, yes?" Robin gave both girls a pointed look, and they reluctantly nodded in agreement. "So, perhaps I did smile while dancing with him. I like him, and I like dancing with him. Is there an issue with that?"

"No!" Cas replied in an instant, with rising eyebrows and an apologetic expression. "Of course not, rather on the contrary!"

Robin gave her a questioning frown in return, but before she could make an attempt to ask just what she meant by that, Jorien jumped in.

"What Cas means is that it's nice to know that you two are close to each other." She said with a diplomatic expression, then however with a smirk at Robin. "And it certainly explains why the years of trying to get you to date someone were entirely wasted."

"I don't see how that correlates." Robin replied flatly, with a too perfect neutral facade to actually be indifferent, and both younger girls snorted in an instant.

"Oh come on!" Cas was back at grinning widely, but at least she kept her voice down like she'd been asked to. "You might be able to fool everyone else, but you can't tell us that you're not totally crushing on him!"

"Ballroom dancing is the most open expression of sexuality the past times had to offer, and you two are honestly the perfect example of it. Quite rude of you though, to lie when we asked you about your crushes on your birthday…" Jorien added in with a smirk and one raised eyebrow that reminded Robin too much of herself. "Because whatever this is between you and him, it's certainly been going on for a lot longer than that."

"I didn't lie." Robin defended herself quietly. She was slowly running out of ideas for how to get out of this situation without anyone taking too much damage in the process. "I never lie. You guys know that."

"I still don't believe you. You're extremely subtle about it, I'll give you that, but you definitely act differently around him than with anybody else I've ever seen you with." Cas stated it as a matter of fact that didn't leave any room for Robin to effectively protest while sticking to the truth. "I don't remotely understand why, and it really is quite weird to think about, but you are definitely attracted to him. Why don't you just admit to what we already know anyway?"

"I do not have a crush, okay?!" Robin's patience was wearing thinner and thinner the more students filed into the room who might overhear the conversation. It was bad enough that her roommates had caught onto matters; she didn't need the rest of the school to know as well. Least of all the person in discussion. "Just leave it be."

"I really don't know why you're being so defensive about it." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "In an odd way it's really kinda cute. You and him, I mean. You're pretty similar to each other. The more I think about it, the more I ship it."

"I don't even want to know what that means, but will you please just shut up about it now?" Robin groaned under her breath and resisted the temptation to rest her face in her hands in despair. That would draw way too much unwanted attention to her now. "You're making a fool of yourself."

"To be honest, I also think you're a good match." Jorien shrugged, but her words were spoken in all honesty no less. "Definitely uncommon, but rather sweet indeed. I've always wondered who on earth might be able to keep up with you, but I guess I've been too blind to see the answer right in front of me."

"I cannot believe you two!" Robin scoffed in sincere discomfort now. Why on earth did they have to torture her like that, after already finding out a secret she'd been hiding perfectly well for over four bloody years?! "You really are being ridiculous, just listen to yourselves. What on earth would he want with me, huh? Remember who you are talking about; it's a miracle that he deems me bearable enough to be my friend in the first place."

"So you do admit to having a crush on him then?"

"Stop. It. Now." Robin hissed at Cas with a glare that made the girl squirm in her seat. "I do not have a crush on anyone, and if you little chits refuse to stop nagging me about it, you will have to find yourselves a new tutor who puts up with your nonsense."

Yes, lashing out at them wasn't really the fairest thing to do, Robin was well aware of that. But she was hurt and annoyed and honestly, they would have forgotten about it by dinnertime already anyway. She just couldn't take any more tinder to the stupid flame of hope that was just roaring back to life now, especially not after last night. She had to trample and suffocate it right in this instant, before she would burn herself and quite possibly drag some collateral right down into the depth of destruction with her. So yes, it was an overreaction to their usual teenage behaviour, but it was a necessary overreaction to keep at least part of her sanity intact.

"I understand." Jorien was the first to speak up for once, and the smile and ease on her face made way for seriousness. "I understand that we were wrong about assuming that you have a crush on him; he's only your best friend, and you don't crush on your best friend. After all, you told us that much on your birthday already, and you don't ever lie."

"Yes! Thank you!" Robin rolled her eyes at her own scoff, but somehow the girl's words only now sunk in when it was too late already.

"Huh… so that's why you never told us who your best friend was. I admit, it all makes an odd amount of sense now that the two pieces become one." Jorien said with a surprised little huff, but Robin only took notice of how her own body became dead weight with a start. Her thoughts were tumbling over each other in panic and confusion and the growing urge to run, while Cas merely frowned at her in confusion. The hall was too warm all of a sudden, and void of air to breathe.

"You tricked me." Robin's lips formed the words without her conscious intention. "If I wasn't quite so furious about it, I would be proud."

"Well, I just put the pieces together." Jorien replied with an almost triumphant half smile. "And it's not like you were ever going to tell us. But I just had to know."

"Of course you did." Robin's voice came out cold and sharp and still somewhat indifferent, for now the pain and anger were gone with a start. She just felt numb, and perhaps a little betrayed. No, actually a lot.

"So… what?" Cas frowned at both of them in confusion. "Who's who now? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm sure Jorien will explain it to you. She's got it all figured out now, doesn't she…" Robin replied coldly and tried to get up from the bench at last, to get out of this situation even at the cost of her own lunch, but a surprisingly strong grip held her down. Damn her short legs, really… why on earth did a fifteen year old have to be taller than her?

"Don't go… please, I'm sorry." Jorien said, and at least she sounded sincerely apologetic as she removed her hand from Robin's arms. "I didn't mean to upset you. Really. I just… I had to know if I was right."

Something in Robin deflated at the girl's sad words and pale blue eyes, and she slumped back down in her seat with a sigh. Damn her own empathy… damn the parts of herself she kept seeing in her. She just wanted to be mad in peace, but with Jorien apologising and Cas entirely confused, she found that she could uphold neither the numbness nor the anger.

"Sometimes being right isn't as nice as it seems." Robin finally said, but she didn't look at Jorien even once while doing so. "I'd gladly be wrong sometimes just to spare people the pain of truth."

"I didn't consider that."

"I know. Try to think about the reasons people keep things to themselves the next time you figure out their personal matters." She sighed, and while Jorien nodded, Robin turned to Cas. "And you… perhaps it'll help you to know that I only have and ever had one friend who isn't currently a student here."

"I still don't get it." Cas frowned with a rather helpless expression, and while Robin just sighed in defeat again, Jorien climbed over the still empty table in sheer annoyance, then grabbed her friend by the tie and aggressively whispered something in her ear that made her eyes go wide. So much for secrets, really… at least she was hissing quietly.

"So…" Cas started, with a weary and yet astonished expression, while Jorien climbed back over the table into her own seat. "You didn't lie after all. You really don't just have a crush on him…"

"I'm not saying a single word more on the matter." Robin shut her straight back down and finally got a grip on her emotions, forcing them all into submission and behind the neutrality. It didn't actually matter that they knew; they had kept quiet about her secrets before, and they would do it again now. They knew better than to mess with her, didn't they?

"You don't have to say anything." Jorien replied with a sigh, as she flopped back down in her seat. "But I think you're wrong if you think that he doesn't feel the same way about you. If he knows it or not."

"Yeah, just take the way he looks at you…" Cas added, while Robin kept on pretending to ignore both of them. "Like you're the answer to the universe's greatest questions nobody but him yet dared to ask."

"Cas! That's an oddly fitting description for the complexity of the issue, I'm thoroughly impressed!" Jorien smiled at her friend with an incredulous frown; obviously Robin wasn't the only one surprised by Cas' sudden string of poetic wisdom.

"Oh, those are Simon's words actually." Cas shrugged easily. "He's said a few times how S-... someone always looks at Robin like that, but I always dismissed it as him trying to be funny. Well, until I saw it for myself today. And he is SO right about it, he'll love that."

"You are not telling Simon about any of this." Robin snapped before she could help it. Damn her fast mouth, honestly, but this was not going anywhere else from here!

"But-..."

"No."

"He's-..."

"No."

"Fine." Cas rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then leaned forward onto her arms that she had crossed on the tabletop. "But honestly Robin, you spend every day and night with him, he lets you use his classroom and his lab and he willingly goes on all those weird excursions with you… I doubt that there's anything he wouldn't do for you, now that I think about it."

"You probably have him all wrapped around your finger. You're just too oblivious or too deep in denial to see it." Jorien added with a smirk a mere second later, and Cas nodded in agreement.

"I wish to extend my previous statement: neither of us is losing another word about this from now on!" Robin stated, then motioned towards the entrance. "The boys are finally moving their lazy arses over here, and I officially declare the previous topic to be over and done with for now and the future."

"Fine. For now." Jorien shrugged, then gave Robin another pointed look. "But remember our words, at least: There is literally nothing that man wouldn't do for you, and we all know there is only one reason for that. You don't have to believe us, but at least give the reality around you a chance before burying yourself in all those delusions you hide behind. You aren't the type to let fear control your life, so open your eyes for God's sake!"

Robin glowered at Jorien until Cas kicked her under the table, giving both of them an overly cheerful but obviously feigned smile, which made Robin redirect her scowl indeed. Jorien however just snorted at Cas' expression, then Cas started chuckling as well, and finally Robin couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips either. They were horrible, really, a bunch of bloody dunderheads, but they also were annoyingly supportive sometimes. False hope they were giving her or not, it at least made Robin happy that her friends were trying to help her. And if they were so easily accepting of the subject of her affections, even if he wasn't technically someone they liked much, they really must care about her wellbeing and happiness quite a bit to still push her in that direction. That thought, the fact that they actually cared, was a good enough outcome of the conversation; the rest would do well to stay buried in the shadows where it belonged. Delusions or not.

"Ladies…" Gideon greeted them with a large grin as he sat down on the bench next to Cas, making it quiver even as Simon took a seat on the girl's other side. "Good noon to you all."

"Your good mood is disgusting." Michael grumbled as he took on his usual perch next to Jorien, who greeted him with a mere nod. She still managed to politely maneuver around any and every of his advances without a word, and by now he had mostly given up on it and moved on to try for a casual friendship like he had with everyone else instead. Didn't change the fact that Michael looked positively pissed at Gideon, and glared at him from across the table now. "He's already finished his bloody charms essay and keeps rubbing it in our faces."

"Prideful, are we? How terribly Slytherin of you, especially for a Ravenclaw." Robin smirked at Gideon, and the remainder of the group chuckled in agreement. Yeah, they really were a big bunch of dunderheads. But sometimes, in little moments like this, Robin found that she didn't actually mind being one of them.

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[ayuuria]

Yashahime Translation: Da Vinci Magazine December 2020 Edition

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

“Hanyou No Yashahime” Tripartite Cast Talk

Matsumoto Sara X Komatsu Mikako X Tadokoro Azusa

Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter and Sesshomaru’s two daughters play an active role in “Hanyou No Yashahime”. As an original anime with no original work (translator’s note: As in not an adaptation of something like a manga or light novel), the subject is the next generation of “Inuyasha” done in the same style. Being “Inuyasha” fans themselves, we had the three lead voice actresses talk about the charm of the series.

The main character design was done by Takahashi Rumiko!

Towa

A 14-year-old middle school girl. 10 years ago, she time traveled from the Feudal Era to the Modern Era and became the adopted daughter of Kagome’s little brother, Souta. Upon reuniting with her younger twin sister, Setsuna, after she time travels to the Modern Era with Moroha, Towa decides to return to the Feudal Era. She is Sesshomaru’s daughter.

Setsuna

14 years old. Towa’s younger twin sister. A member of the demon slayers led by Kohaku. She has lost her memories of her childhood and is unable to fall asleep. She has the gold rainbow pearl in her left eye. While she does not believe Towa is her older twin sister, she travels with her as she tries to take back Setsuna’s memories and sleep.

The 3 of you reacted shocked with “What you mean daughters?!”

Moroha

Commonly known as “Monster Killer Moroha”. A 14-year-old bounty hunter. When she puts on rouge stored in a shell with the red rainbow pearl on it, she becomes “The Country Destroying Beniyasha” and goes on a rampage. While she is Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter, she does not know her parents and has lived mostly on her own apparently.

Komatsu: When the work was announced, the world was shocked like “Sesshomaru has a daughter?!” and we were the same. When I opened the audition documents, it was written that the setting takes place over 10 years after the conclusion of the original work and that Setsuna, who I was auditioning for, is Sesshomaru’s daughter. I thought “What does this mean?” and reflexively grabbed the last volume of the manga.

Matsumoto: I was handed Takahashi Rumiko-sensei’s character design and a simple correlation diagram. In regards to Towa, who I auditioned for, it was also written that all that was known was that she is Sesshomaru’s daughter. I was given lines without knowing the context or anything so I wondered what to do. However, at the same time, I was so happy to the point that I was like “The “Inuyasha” world is coming back!”

Tadokoro: I completely freaked out (laughs). Also, my manager knew I was big fan of “Inuyasha” and calmly told me before I looked at the audition documents “Azusa, you absolutely can’t miss out on this. This a huge opportunity.”

Komatsu: A lot of pressure!

Tadokoro: Then when I looked at the documents, I saw that Moroha, who I was auditioning for, was the daughter of Inuyasha and Kagome. After getting excited like “They had a child~!”, I saw Towa and Setsuna and screamed “I will be upset if they’re not XX’s children!” (translator’s note: they’re referring to the mother)

Komatsu and Matsumoto: I know!

Tadokoro: As a fan, I worried endlessly but as a voice actress, I thought I couldn’t miss out on this. However, when I went to the studio audition, I was told “Keep the base but try to say these lines a little more like a middle-aged man”. I became flustered like “Even though she’s a 14-year-old girl?” … I felt like I didn’t respond properly and was really down going home.

Komatsu: Me too. Maybe it was because I was pulling too strongly from Sesshomaru’s image but I was told “Not only coolness but we would also like for you to show the cuteness of a 14-year-old” and I couldn’t make the switch the very well. I didn’t get the reaction that I got the part at all.

Matsumoto: I over considered the setting of (Towa) wearing a boy’s uniform and I was told “Don’t make her a boy”. After that no matter how many retries I did, the direction I took didn’t match up… I cried a lot when I got home like “I totally bombed it”. That moment, I realized that I had really wanted the part and was surprised. “Inuyasha” was a work that was more special to me than I thought.

Overcoming different boundaries, their feelings melt together

Komatsu: For me, “Inuyasha” was also a textbook on love. Especially the relationship between Inuyasha, Kagome, and Kikyou. It’s a little hard for kids to understand and I thought, “Why does Kikyou always get in the way?” and “Inuyasha too, make up your mind” but in a certain scene, Kagome asks Inuyasha “I… What exactly am I to you?”. In between the feelings of it can’t be helped that he overlaps her face with Kikyou’s and this has nothing to do with her, she properly checked what her existence meant to him. Seeing that, I realized. Not only in love but that’s important in life in general as well.

Tadokoro: It’s so cool isn’t it? She acknowledged all her feelings of jealousy and hate towards Kikyou and still saved her on top of that. She showed us her resolve to properly face her heart and Kikyou and accept them. It was so cool that I cried. Then when I became an adult, I came to understand Kikyou’s feelings and it hurt.

Matsumoto: Well she was also a victim… I think when you read “Inuyasha”, you become emotionally attached to each individual character because depictions that give you a sense that they’re “alive” are inlaid in all sorts of places. For example, the scene in volume 1 where Kagome offers food to Inuyasha whom she had just met. While Inuyasha makes his wariness known, he takes a bite of the radish in the next frame. I always laugh like “Even though you say it’s annoying, you’re still eating it!” but at the same time I feel that it’s really “like” him. From those ordinary depictions, over time we accept “something” without realizing it. That accumulation turns into a big emotion that overflows when you get to the important scenes.

Komatsu: At times when those complexly wrapped emotions sublimate, even sad endings become beautiful. For example, Kagura. Even though she was born from Naraku, she was guided to good through Inuyasha and the others who were supposed to be her enemy. Kagome and Kikyou’s relationship too but ally or enemy, good or evil, all sorts of borders are crossed and seeing drawings of humans and demons coming together I think is the charm of “Inuyasha”.

We haven’t been told the answers to the mysteries

Matsumoto: Continuing onward to “Hanyou no Yashahime”, the character I play, Towa, passed through space-time and got sent to the Modern Era at age 4. However, possibly because she was raised by Kagome’s little brother, Souta, even though she is Sesshomaru’s daughter, I feel like she’s also similar to Kagome.

Komatsu: While blood inheritance is important, the person who raised you has a big influence as well. Also, what environment you were raised in. Setsuna lost her childhood memories due to certain circumstances. So of course, she doesn’t remember her older twin sister, Towa, whom she got separated from at 4 years old. Due to that hole and being raised in an environment where you could be killed by anyone at any time, she gives off an air of not allowing others to get close to her. But just when you think that, there are times where you can feel that she’s actually kind and that makes it heartrending.

Matsumoto: Feeling she (Towa) needs to fill in the 10-year void with Setsuna who became like that, the highlight is seeing their relationship change as Towa closes the gap between them. Add Moroha in and there’s a lot of chattering.

Tadokoro: Moroha speaks in a vulgar manner (translator’s note: it actually translates to abusive language but abusive didn’t sound right to me) but in reality, I have a feeling that she truly enjoys traveling with the two of them. To her, those two are probably the first friends she has ever had. That form is so precious and I feel lonely when I wonder what sort of environment she grew up in. I wonder why she’s desperately earning money by slaying demons. We were only told who she was raised by but at this time, we have not been told things like happened to Inuyasha and Kagome.

Matsumoto: This includes who Towa and Setsuna’s mother is. This is something fans have been wondering the most but the answers will be revealed eventually and I have faith that this work will properly continue on what was drawn in “Inuyasha”.

Tadokoro: That’s why we would like everyone to watch over them until the very end and love the 3 Yashahimes as they survive with each of their individual strengths.

Komatsu: While there are a lot of cheerful episodes, there will be times when the inlaid depictions within those episodes will be collected in an instant which I think people will enjoy. For that, we will give it our all!

We Asked Takahashi-sensei!

Q: What did you especially focus on when doing the character design?

A: Series composition writer Sumisawa (Katsuyuki) requested me to draw the image of Towa as a white Sesshomaru and Setsuna as a black Sesshomaru. Upon reading the scenario, I designed them incorporating their father’s facial look. Moroha was the same, being Inuyasha and Kagome’s child. As such, I made it so that Inuyasha’s mischievousness came through.