#he’s got to be a bit more creative with grabbing his very large partner

[throatofdelusionincarnate]

Tender Scrapes

Inspired by @naffeclipse’s “Apex Polarity”

A desire to be alone leaves you with a fatal injury. Now, sinking in the icy water you are met with your savior and enemy- an orca siren who has made his attention apparent ever since you spoiled his meal.

With a harpoon in your tail and a predator upon you, the nature of your situation becomes more apparent.

Perhaps a little help from your adversary isn't the worst thing to happen to you.

Word Count - 4,081

Please heed content warnings!

This fic is based off of @naffeclipse’s Polar Nights collection! They are an amazing writer and I can’t encourage you enough to check out their work!!

[whatyadrawin]

Michael Myers x Fem! Reader (Headcanon) 18+ only -First Fanfic Ever!-

Masterlist

Approximately 1, 775 words

Pairing: Michael Myers x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mental health struggles, violence, strong language, strong sexual themes

A/n: I actually completed this chapter a while ago but something struck me as I did a bit of research on peoples general opinions on certain dark themes being in fanfics. I will talk a bit further about this below the cut so as not to potentially trigger someone who did not consent to reading it but it needs to be talked about. Now having said that I also want to mention that I have been struggling this past week with personal issues and now I have fucking COVID (I am doing ok so far) my anxiety has been through the roof especially because I have asthma. I got COVID despite wearing a mask everywhere and meticulously washing my hands and disinfecting... but this is besides the point. I have chapter 7 locked and loaded but I need to finish the art for it. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and thank you so much to all my followers, you are all keeping me going creatively.

A/N continued: The theme that was supposed to make up this chapter was an almost rape scene, Y/N was going to be potentially raped by an intruder and Michael was to come in to save the day. There is a lot of online rhetoric about how common it is to put female characters through rape and especially so in darker more mature fics and I have to agree. I don't have a lot against rape being in stories as long as it makes sense with the context and as long as it brings awareness to readers about the real trauma it creates. As a survivor myself it can be cathartic to be able to write about stuff like that but then I think about other survivors and the fact that they may not feel the same way as I do about it, I want to protect survivors. This means that nowhere in my fic will there be rape, and nowhere in any potential future fics will I depict rape. I have a Jason fic formulating between me and my partner and there may be mention of behaviors that exhibit abuse but I refuse to actually write out a rape scene. These fics are meant to be interesting, sexy, and fun, I want them to be an escape for you all. Anyway thank you for reading and please enjoy chapter 6.

Chapter 6

You come to your senses and feel very cold, your body is covered in a throw blanket from your couch, you realize the room is extremely dark from it being past sunset ok I know that was real, there is no way I hallucinated that NO WAY! You don’t know what to do, you are panicking and too scared to leave the room but you don’t remember walking into the room with a blanket, you hold it close to your exposed body and you look around the room, no one was there, the door was open and you saw a light on in your room across the hall. You find the nerve to get up and you sprint to your room and close the door, you take a second to breathe and calm down a bit what do I do? I need to call the cops, they need to get him he must still be in here You head over to where your cell charges but its not there, you look around the room and can’t find it, suddenly the lights go out in the house, you look out to the street and see the street lights are also out Seriously!? A power outage? Suddenly you hear your room door open and you let out an involuntary scream and see that same white mask in the doorway, it’s Michael, he is so huge he has to bend down a bit to get through the doorway, and he slowly makes his way towards you. You crumple to the floor and hide in the blanket crying.

“Please don’t hurt me, I never did anything to you, please I don’t want to die I’ll do anything!” You are curled into a tiny ball on the floor and you can hear heavy footsteps slowly coming towards you.

 You feel a massive hand grab at your back to tear off the blanket sending you on your back from the force of it and you are once again exposed and now extremely vulnerable to this immeasurably large giant of a man. He looks down at you as you back away still on the ground, your back hits the wall of the room and Michael kneels down overtop of you just like in that dream, his face very close to yours as if he was trying to get a better look, studying every detail meticulously.

“Please Michael, I won’t call the police, please just don’t kill me, please!” You plead to him.

He lifts you to your feet and he reaches up towards your neck, he is so monstrous that his entire hand wraps around fully and his fingers can overlap, but he doesn’t squeeze, he just holds it there and tilts his head to the side and you feel an intense heat fill up your lower half and your clit begins to swell. You stay there silent, he backs away as you hear a siren sounding off in the distance, Michael looks down and focuses on your thighs and you can feel a stream of vaginal juices flowing down, a sense of embarrassment flushes into your cheeks from how aroused you have become. You watch as he tilts his head and slowly leaves the room and disappears into the shadows.

You immediately reach for the sweater and thong from earlier today and put them on, you shut the door and barricade it with a chair. Now you feel trapped in the house but this time you don’t feel scared. He didn’t hurt me, he could have crushed my throat, he could have killed me at any second but he didn’t… why? You can feel a heartbeat in your genitals and you are becoming insatiably aroused, so much so that it almost hurts. I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this about him, oh god I think I want him…You go onto your bed and hide under the covers and exhaustion pushes you into a slumber…

````````

You dreamt you were back in Michaels room in the asylum but it looked different this time, you were sitting on the bed and there were large windows letting bright sunshine in, the windows overlooked Chicago and had the same view as the last apartment you were in before you moved to Haddonfield. You are wearing nothing but the long white silk sheet that was on the asylum bed, you get off the bed and go up to the window to look outside of it, when you look down you see your street in Haddonfield in your new home. Suddenly there is a presence behind you but you feel no fear, only comfort. Large hands rest on your shoulders and make their way down to your breasts, you lean back and expose your chest so the hands could gently caress your nipples. You turn around and see its Michael, he’s wearing the same faded overalls and that creepy Halloween mask, he picks you up and tries to carry you through the open door in the room but it leads to nothing, just a black empty void and you say to him:

“Please, can’t you just stay here with me? Stay here with me and we can live in peace, I will show you peace.”

Michael puts you down but is still holding you, and you start to cry “Please, don’t go through that door, I won’t follow you, stay here in the light with me and keep me safe!”

Suddenly Michaels arms turn to a black mist and he is being pulled through the dark doorway, he tries to hold on to you but he is being pulled away, you call out to him:

“NO! Give him back! He needs peace, give him back!” 

Michael desperately tries to stay in the room but his body becomes a black mist and gets forcefully pulled into the void leaving behind his white mask. The room around you starts to go dark and you turn around to notice the windows are gone and the room looks the same way it did when that loose patient covered in blood was trying to get in, and now you can hear him in the hallway screaming. You are scared and alone now and you start crying and yelling out for Michael but he never comes, you grab the mask that was left behind and hold it in your hands sobbing. The mask turns into a large kitchen knife and you stop crying, you are suddenly wearing the same overalls as Michael and you stand up and feel empowered and angry, I won’t let him hurt me, I want to LIVE! 

`````````

You wake up to a glaring ray of sunshine and it takes you a second to remember what happened last night. You see the chair still barricading the bedroom door and you get out of bed and head to the bathroom to wash up, still vigilant about potentially encountering Michael again, the thought was strangely exciting to you. You get changed into some athletic clothes and hype yourself up to open the door. The chair is firmly under the handle but you remove it with some force, you turn the knob and slowly peer outside, you see nothing. You walk out into the hall “M-Michael?” You hear nothing, cautiously you make your way down the stairs and towards the door where your purse was, you keep listening for any hint of movement but the silence is deafening. All of a sudden *BRRT BRRT BRRT* you hear your cell phone vibrating in your purse and you run to grab it, it was Deanna calling. You race out the door and run out past the gate leaving everything slightly ajar behind you. You pick up the call:

 “Deanna?” 

“H-Hey Hun …are you ok? I was calling to check up and see how you were doing today”

Deanna’s voice makes you feel immediately safe

“I-Sorry I just feel a bit off today, it’s been a weird night”

“Oh, did you want me to come over? Maybe some company will do you good, I can help you clean the basement like you have been wanting to do for a while now.”

I can’t have her over with Michael potentially being in the house, should I tell her? She might think I lost it

“Sorry, I don’t think I will be in a good headspace for any visitors today. I just need some time to myself if that’s ok.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine *Y/N*, I just want to make sure you are ok since you don’t have anyone in town. You just let me know when you feel like having some company and feel free to call me anytime alright?”

“I will let you know, thanks for checking in on me.”

Deanna says her goodbye and you both hang up. Now you are 3 blocks away from the house and you realize you left everything unlocked and open I wonder if he is still in the house? Surely, he left? you start to run back and reach the gate, giving it a proper lock behind you and head up towards the door and close it behind you. You turn around and call out:

“Michael? Michael if you are there, please, make a noise so I know.” Dead silence.

You figure he ran off after hearing the sirens and you begin to go around the house and lock every window and door you can find; you begin to feel a bit more at ease and start thinking of Michael and why he behaved the way he did. Isn’t he a lethal killer? Oh god he saw the fluid from between my legs! You blush and turn on the T.V. to get your mind off it and the news was on again, this time showing a car chase that was heading towards Haddonfield, you watch closely as the car being chased gets into town and flips into a ditch, the driver gets out and starts running to the bushes and disappears. The newscaster speaks:

“The local authorities have notified us that the individual in the car has escaped into a deep sewer system that stretches across Haddonfield, they have all exits noted and will be ready to catch them. More on this after the break.” 

A commercial about health insurance comes up and you shut off the T.V. Good thing I locked all my entryways, if that guy is in town… well… You rub your neck and think about Michaels enormous hand wrapped around it and that familiar heat comes back into your body, it feels impossible to think of anything else but him.

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Souvenir (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Gender neutral. My dumbass changed the request so they aren’t already together I am sorry but they needed to meet first

EDIT/DISCLAIMER: I hadn’t watched the films in LITERALLY FOREVER i got some parts wrong but for the record the fantastic beasts book does not say what mooncalves eat and i had to go as creative as possible (... grass)

Requested by: NOT anon but i forgot who requested i’m so sorry Maybe Newt introducing his partner to all of his creatures and one of the creates (possibly another bowtruckle but up to you) getting really attached Flying together on Frank the thunderbird (he's a thunderbird right?) Oh fluffy adorable feeding the baby mooncalves (Can you tell I like cute things and all of his animals?)

Word Count: 1593

You first met Newt when you were out on a late night stroll.

People always said it was dangerous to walk outside late at night, but you had magic, and that would at least protect you from no-majs with ill intent. You would never expect to run into a wizard the way you did.

There was, after all, an Erumpent with a man in a bright blue coat making the strangest movements and sounds. It was certainly interesting. Another man stood off to the side, holding a bottle that was unmistakably one that was used for potions. Once the bottle spilled, you ran closer, hoping that you could counter the effects of the potion before it caused any damage. Instead, the Erumpent turned to him and charged. There was a lot of screaming.

You followed them over the hills of Central Park and a frozen river that you absolutely did not trust to hold the weight of a grown man, much less an Erumpent. You threw a quick spell to solidify it completely, and the three of you had managed to get the Erumpent into a very small case.

"Well, it looks like we've made a new friend!" the skinnier man in the blue coat said. "Thanks for helping."

"I really didn't do anything," you replied.

"Nonsense, you froze the river, didn't you? Wonderful spellwork, by the way," he complimented.

You warily looked at the no-maj, currently trying his best to brush off whatever he had spilled on himself. You knew how dangerous it was for them to know about magic.

"Oh, I'm Newt. This is Jacob. We've been gathering all the magical creatures that... are around the city," Newt explained.

"I'm (Y/N)," you said.

You held your hand out in greeting, and he took it with a mild shake. Jacob's was only slightly firmer.

"You know, I'm good with magical creatures. They were my favourites to look for in the forest of the school I went to. If you want, I can help," you offered.

Newt smiled brightly, and motioned back to the city that surrounded you.

"Well, we've finished with this, and we've got more to do. How about we find the rest of them?"

———

Newt opened his case on the floor, nodding to it with a smile.

"Go on. I promise it's safe," he assured you.

You gave him a stern look and climbed down the ladder into a small, wooden workshop.

"Is this an expanding charm?" you called up as he started to make his own way down. "Amazing work. It's rarely ever neat when I expand anything."

"Well, it helps that I've got other magic to keep everything where it is," he grinned. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the door. You pushed it open, your mouth open in shock as you took in the desert-like area around you.

"Newt!" you exclaimed. "Do you know how much work it takes to do this? You either have very powerful magic or a lot of time on your hands."

"Well I wouldn't say I'm very powerful," he humbly responded. "I've had this case for years, and I only started with a few of these areas. Now it's a lot more, but that's not the point."

He gestured to move on, and you followed wordlessly. The disturbance in the background made it clear that it was a piece of cloth rather than the actual background, and he pushed it aside to reveal the Erumpent you had helped him retrieve.

"I found her a while ago, and I'll be returning her home once she's ready. I'd bring you closer but after recent events, I think it would be better not to cause unnecessary damage to all of New York City."

You both laughed. He led you through another curtain to where the Niffler dove into a hole, and the bowtruckles were all on a tree together.

"I'm sure you already know the bowtruckles aren't as friendly as the others in this case, but Pickett likes to hang around me sometimes," Newt said.

He put his hand out for one of the bowtruckles, who climbed onto his hand and scampered up his arm, clinging to his bowtie for a few seconds. Newt had to pull Pickett off and back into his hand, and raised him up between the two of you. You were both met each other's eyes. He looked nervous for a split second, then brought up Pickett between your line of view.

"Say hello, Pickett! This is (Y/N)."

"Hi there," you smiled.

You waved your hand to the little green creature. He jumped from Newt's hand to your shirt, and found his way to the top of your head.

"Pickett! You know you need to ask before you climb someone like that," Newt scolded.

He had his hands on his hips and glared at the bowtruckle sternly. Pickett made a noise that sounded suspiciously like blowing a raspberry and rested himself in your hair.

"I think he likes me," you laughed. "Isn't it rare for bowtruckles to be this friendly?"

"Yes, but I think-"

Newt suddenly cut himself off as a blush grew on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"You think what?" you asked.

"Um, I talk to the creatures about you sometimes? I think he remembered your name."

You hadn't known each other too long, but you figured it was enough to be good friends.

"Oh, that's nice. It's great to meet them," you said.

He gestured for you to follow him. He turned quickly as you walked, probably to hide his red face. By the time you reached a large nest, it was completely gone and replaced with a wide smile.

"This is an Occamy! They are usually very protective of their young, but I've earned her trust just enough. I'll be releasing her and her babies once they're a little more grown," Newt said.

The blue serpent-like creature inspected you as you approached the nest. A peer over the edge gave you a glimpse of a smaller Occamy, playing with its siblings. There were chirps coming from the nest. Newt brought you along to a different environment, one that looked more like a desert.

"And that's Frank," he said.

You both looked up to see a Thunderbird flying on his own in the sky. He began to drop down and land as he spotted you.

"Frank, this is my friend! Be nice," Newt said. "You can hold your hand out to him."

You hesitantly put your hand up, around where the bird's beak would be if he was in front of you. Frank shuffled his wings, then got closer until the feathers just under his eye were tickling your hand. You carefully stroked the feathers there, and he closed his eyes in content.

"I'm in America for a lot of reasons, and all of them are to bring these creatures back home," Newt said. "Tina and Queenie have been nice enough to let me stay with them while I'm still here."

"You're welcome to stay with me as well," you smiled.

You continued onto the next area, a quieter and darker one lit by a full moon on one of the curtains. The creatures were like a strange mix of a sheep and a cow with the largest eyes that didn't look like they would fit in their heads.

"Mooncalves!" you said, taking a few steps closer.

"Wait, come back. I'll have you feed them, since it's already time."

They were still a distance away. Despite their shy nature, they were still intrigued by the new addition to their temporary home. They started to get closer. After a few minutes of preparing the bowls with Newt, two of them had already gotten very close to you. They nudged your legs, knowing that you had something they wanted. When Newt walked with his bowl closer to the rest of the mooncalves, they all flocked to him. You followed behind, and some went to you.

"Throw a bit of this onto the ground right here."

He picked up a handful of what looked like rice grains and threw them across the ground. You did the same until the soil was mostly covered. Newt pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, which caused the soil to cover the little grains and grass to spring up from where they dropped instead. The mooncalves rushed over to the grass and began to graze.

"Grass seeds! It's much more convenient than carrying grass or taking them outside when there's a full moon," Newt explained.

"That's amazing," you complimented, which he bashfully brushed off.

He took your bowl and put it away. A bowtruckle returned to his tree and a niffler nearly grabbing your pen lined with shiny metal later, you both returned to your small room. It was as if you'd entered another world or a dream and were now being pulled back into reality. You stood face to face with Newt, a grin present on his.

"If you're not staying in New York too long, I think maybe you'd need a souvenir before you go," you whispered.

"What's that?"

You took a step closer to him and slowly pressed your lips to his. He brought you closer, a hand on your back to keep the both of you steady. When you pulled away, he kept his hand there.

"That might be one of the best souvenirs I'll ever receive, but I think I can find one better."

"Can you really?"

He laughed breathlessly, and pulled you closer once more.

[brainmaniaman]

PERHAPS YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE (ERWIN SMITH/READER)

TAGS: sugar daddy erwin, smut, brat tamer erwin, oral (male receiving), lazy fucking? , praise kink? very light degradation? idk i am just writing things that i feel like was included DESCRPTION: my brain absolutely rots for brat tamer sugar daddy erwin who finds a creative way to punish his baby for making a fool out of him i am going to cry idk why i just see erwin a brat tamer but one that goes very slow. idk this is just how i see him in my head don't @ me. idk how i feel about this but it definitely exists. WORD COUNT: 3,521

It was no secret that Erwin Smith like young women.

Specifically, young smart men and women - men and women with a good head on their shoulders and aspirations. It made conversating enjoyable, as he liked to hear about what made them tick, what brought them joy, what they wanted to do in their lives. Provided their aspirations were noble enough for his liking, he liked to fund their passions, lifestyles, and hobbies. After all, his pockets were deep and no mister, misses, or family of his own and things got boring - so since he didn't have kids or a life partner to pour into, he liked to pour into his fleeting partners.

He also liked to see them unravel before him, tongue hanging out of the side of their mouths, toes curling against the mattress, and eyes rolling into the back of their head as he fucked the mercilessly stupid - reducing them to nothing but a babbling mess of incoherent thoughts and words, drunk on the feeling of his massive cock sliding in and out of them.

But Erwin Smith, a gentleman, would never admit to that.

Sprawled out on his back, Erwin rested his right hand behind his head, looking up at you as you straddled his waist, his left hand idly playing with the small, silver, ring dangling from the front of the black choker adorning your neck.

A pout twisted on your lips as he pushed the ring back and forth, eyes focusing on your throat instead of you.

Your hands pawed at his waist before moving to his belt buckle, beginning to slide it through.

"Ah -" Erwin moved his right arm out from behind his head, resting his large hand over yours - keeping you from undoing his belt. "What do you think you're doing?"

Your lips curled downwards into a scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Something you shouldn't."

"And why . . ." You tapped your free hand, the one that wasn't trapped under his own, on his - impatiently. "Is that?"

"Do you recall the events that unfolded tonight?"

"Hm . . ." You tapped your index finger against your chin. "No. Not particularly."

Had this been anyone else, their temper would have been lost. Hell, your attitude was strong enough to crack most people who tried to reign it under control. Erwin ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed together. If anything, Erwin liked the challenge. If there was anything Erwin was known for, it was his seemingly infinite patience.

"You can't recall?"

"No."

"Would you like to recall before I give you a reason to recall?"

You squirmed with excitement. Threats excited you - threats with others usually ended in spankings, and you liked those.

"No - I don't think so."

Erwin hooked his right finger into the silver ringlet dangling at your neck, giving it a slight tug forward - bringing your head down so that your lips ghosted his own.

"Very well then." Erwin breathed against your lips, "Take of your stockings."

Excitedly, you began to roll off your black stockings - those $300 dollar pair he had bought you on a whim, because you had pointed at them and told him you thought they looked nice.

You shifted on him patiently, dropping your weight down onto his cock, squirming with anticipation - waiting for him to flip you onto your stomach, press your head into the pillows, and strike his hand against your ass.

That time never came.

In fact, he was starring intently into your own eyes - and now you weren't squirming with anticipation but, rather, nervousness.

"Ride me."

"What -"

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious -"

"I am."

"Suddenly, I remember what I did -" You were starting to, essentially, plead with him, "We were at the party and -"

Erwin reached up, pressing his finger to your lips.

"You can finish the story when my cock is inside of you."

You sucked in your lower lip, tears biting the corner of your eyes.

He removed his large hand from your own.

"Go on - take my belt off . . . since you were previously so eager to take it off."

Your face was hot with humiliation and frustration as your fingers fumbled with his belt, starting to pull it through its loops.

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you to get your own drink when you asked me to grab the punch . . ."

"Mmm . . ." Erwin responded, lifting his hips slightly as you slid the belt off of his hips. "Perhaps you shouldn't have. It doesn't change the prognosis of your situation, though. Continue with what you were doing." Erwin now stretched both of his arms back, his abs rippling and flexing underneath his shirt as he cradled his hands underneath his head, eyes still trained on you.

Your fingers shook a bit as you began to unbutton his pants, pushing his boxers down, pulling his cock out. It was big, long, and girthy - the holy trifecta, as you called it - and was currently semi-hard. You ran your tongue over your top row of teeth. You couldn't help but imagine how great it would feel for his big hands to press your head down into the mattress and fill you up from behind before fucking you into the bed.

"Be a dear and help me out, use your mouth."

Your heart was pounding in your chest.

"I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front of your friends -"

"Mmm . . ." Erwin hummed again, "Perhaps you shouldn't have. Continue on."

"And if I don't?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, reaching his hand out and pressing the palm of his hand against the hot side of your face.

"You know me, I'm not going to force you to do anything you're not willing to do."

"Alright, seems like we have a mutual understanding -" You leaned him into his warm hand, body tensing at the feeling of his touch.

"- but do you think I'll just forget about tonight? At some point, you'll have to face the music. Do you think I'll just forget by tomorrow and then by the next day, roll you over and fuck you? You should know me better by now."

You crinkled your nose.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hesitantly leaned your head down. Truthfully, this isn't how you expected the night to end. You had hoped in your playfulness - in openly defying him and saying no in front of his friends - he'd lose his temper at home and bring out the crop whip.

"Are you sure you don't want to just use the crop whip and call it even?"

Erwin's arms now stretched behind his head again, he tilted his head down. The sight of your hand gripped around the base of his cock, looking up at him with those doe eyes - it made him want to roll you onto your stomach, press your cheek to the headboard, and thrust into you mercilessly.

But this wasn't about seeking his own pleasure - it was about teaching you a lesson - and patience was key.

"Whips are for good girls and boys." Erwin drawled lazily, "Do you think you've been good?"

You hummed in response. He really wasn't going to let up, was he?

"And if I comply, what do I get?" You puffed out your cheeks.

"You think making amends should end in a reward?"

"I don't see why not."

"We'll see."

We'll see.

That maybe was enough to convince you it might be worth your time to comply. You lowered your head, running your tongue around his tip. You could feel his legs tense at the feeling. You used his tongue to continue to tease around the tip of his cock.

Two could play at this game.

You had planned on continuing to do this until you felt Erwin's hand come against the back of your head. It wasn't heavy, it didn't push down on your head, but simply rested there.

"Go on."

If you were going to lower your head, he wanted you to do it out of your own volition.

He wanted the satisfaction of your compliance.

There was a moment of hesitation as you continued to tease the tip of his cock - which was big. You hadn't taken him in your mouth before - usually, by now, he would bury himself to you to his hilt and thrust mercilessly. You hadn't had him in your mouth before. Hell, you weren't sure if it was capable. Even so, you widened your mouth - slowly taking him into your mouth - your tongue sliding along the length of his big cock, which stretched your mouth beyond what was normal. He kept his hand on the back of your head, fingers curling into the strands of your hair.

Slowly, you began to slide your bob your head up and down on his cock. Pride swelled in you as he let out a breathy sigh, his abdomen flexing slightly. Positioned between his legs, you gripped at his thighs - fingernails digging into the large muscles of his thighs. Erwin's thighs clenched as your sides as you continued to bob your head up and down his cock slowly - your hands gripping at the base of his cock to steady yourself. You had only managed to make it half of the way down before you could feel your eyes water, close to triggering your gag reflex. Your neck began to flex upwards but his hand became heavy on the back of your head, pushing your head back down slowly.

"Your little mouth looks so pretty around my dick-" Erwin breathed out, "Much better than it looks when you're spewing defiant vulgarities against me."

You grew wet at the comment, drenching you panties. You fidgeted, rubbing your thighs together with arousal as his fingers curled tightly in the strands.

Pink lipstick smudged at his dick as he pulled your head upwards, starting to guide you up and down the length of his cock.

"Don't you think?"

Saliva dripped from the edges of your lips as your mouth continued to slide up and down his dick, his breath becoming shaking and unstable - only driving you to perform better. Perhaps if you had him like putty your hands, he'd be more willing to forgive and forget.

"So pretty -" Erwin praised, his sharp blue eyes looking lazily down at you, clearly pleased with the way you struggled to take the entirety of his cock between your lips, the way saliva dripped from the edges of your lips, and the muffled mmfs and hhns you gagged out - rumbling against his skin. "Pretty little things like you shouldn't waste your time spewing such hateful and bratty things. Don't you agree?"

"Hmmm" You hummed against his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath was becoming more erratic as he continued to guide your head up and down the length of his cock, though maintained eye contact with you.

"- wanna look into your eyes when I cum in your mouth" Erwin choked out, his chest rising and falling more rapidly, "- and see it spill over that smart mouth of yours"

Your pussy now throbbing and aching as his tip pressed the back of your throat, coming dangerously close to triggering your gag reflex.

He didn't move his hips to aide you, simply guided your head.

Despite his light moans and groans, he remains miraculously quiet. Unlike you, he's never been quite loud. There's a moment as your lips and tongue drag up from the base of his cock, dragging to his tip, and he for a moment he thinks he may just see stars as he unloads into your mouth. If you think about pulling back, you can't, as his hand holds you in place even as cum starts to drip from the corners of your mouth, spilling and dribbling onto your chin.

His fingers uncurl from your hair and drop to move strands of hair from your eyes before wiping at the corner of your mouth - though the movement of his thumb doesn't do anything to clean you up in the slightest. It's more of gentle gesture than anything else.

"I've done my part -" You go to sputter out, but he only laughs and shakes his head.

Erwin's hand slips between your legs, gently grabbing at your pussy with his big hand. "You're already wet - and from just that? Dirty little thing. You want my cock in you, right?"

"Yes -"

The hand between your thighs presses up against your pussy and his left hand grips at your hips, lifting you to your knees so that you're properly straddling him again. He's working of your lacy panties now, tossing them to the side.

"Go ahead -" He motions to himself, "Fill yourself."

You furrow your eyebrows, expression clearly displeased. You feel more and more control slipping away from you and suddenly, you feel increasingly more self-conscious. By now, anyone else would have simply had their way with you - the way you liked it. But this man was making you work for it - and honestly, it was punishment enough.

"I think I've learned my lesson by now -" You sputter out, not too keen on doing the rest of the work.

"Maybe you have." Erwin responds lazily, "But if I were to end the punishment here, you wouldn't learn your lesson - would you? But surely, if you want - we can stop here." He pressed his hand in between your thighs, his fingers rubbing lazily at your slit before running around your clit. Your legs were shaking as you let out small whines and moans. "Do you want to end here?"

"N-No!" You sputter out as his fingers continue to slide slickly up and down your pussy. Erwin's fingers teased the entrance of your cunt, pressing in slightly as his thumb pressed itself into your clit - but didn't go much further.

"Then I suggest -" Erwin arched his back up, bringing his lips to ghost over yours as his free hand wiped some of the frustrated tears dripping at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down the sides of your cheeks, "- you put in the work to show me just how sorry you are . . . and maybe I'll consider rewarding you for your effort."

He really wasn't going to relent.

You placed your hands on his fully erect cock again, lining the tip of his dick up against your entrance. Both of his hands rested against the side of your face reassuringly, admiring how your chin glistened with his cum.

"Go on." He encouraged you.

Slowly, you lowered yourself down onto his cock - carefully taking it agonizingly slow as his dick stretched you out uncomfortably; it was clearly taking you a while to adjust. For the moment, he let you take your sweet time - besides, the punishment itself wasn't about not seeking pleasure. It was about making you put in the work to seek out your own pleasure. Perhaps after this, you'd be less likely to make a fool out of him in front of his friends.

Your legs shifted as you sat still, practically warming his cock as you sat there.

"Well?" He asked patiently, "Work for it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Hesitantly, you raised yourself up a bit - sliding yourself upwards. At the feeling of your tight cunt sliding against his big cock, he couldn't help but groan. Slowly, you lowered yourself down again. For a second, you waited - hoping that if you took it slow and steady, he'd get impatient, grab you by the hips, and fuck you himself.

"You're smart enough to know I'm not stupid," Erwin said, tapping your temple with his index finger, "I know the game you're playing. Keep going."

You pouted but he simply drug his thumb over your lip, puling it down before hooking his thumb into your mouth - pressing the pad of his thumb into your gums.

You continued to slide slowly up and down against his cock, groaning as his tip pressed into that sweet spot he knew how to reach every time. However, given that you were tasked with handling it yourself - it was much different.

Your body ached for him to grab at you - your breasts, your ass, your thighs - something. But instead, Erwin moved his hands from your mouth and linked his fingers behind his head, propping his head up so he could see your little mouth contort into different expressions as you bounced up and down on his dick, clearly humiliated by the fact that you were even having to put in this much work to begin with.

"Very good." He cooed as you placed the palms of your hands on his clothed chest, working at the buttons of his shirt. "Ah - no." Erwin corrected you, grabbing your hands and removing them from his shirt. "I don't think you deserve it. Unbutton your own shirt."

Your ears grew hot as you continued to bounce up and down on his cock, his tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again. Your eyes were watering and legs were shaking - clearly already tired, as this was obviously something you didn't ever do.

Your shaky fingers unbuttoned the front of your shirt as you continued to bounce on his cock, tight black skirt clinging to your thighs as he looked lazily up at you, once more moving his hands behind his head.

"Take it off."

You slid the shirt off your shoulders, letting it drop at the edge of the bed.

"Now your bra, dear."

Still bouncing, this time more relentlessly, you twisted your arms behind your back - struggling to unclasp your bra but, after a few long seconds of struggling, freed your breasts from its restraints.

"Touch me -" You breathed out as you dropped your bra at the end of the bed with your shirt, "P-Please" You pleaded.

"Hmm . . ." Erwin looked pensive. "No. I don't think you're sorry enough yet." His own breath was becoming labored again, his abdomen flexing and legs twitching as pleasure began to pool in him. The sight of you helplessly bouncing up and down on him, your ass pressing against his pelvis, breasts bouncing up and down as you struggled to keep up the pace that was most pleasurable for you, was absolutely magnificent. "Since you want to touch yourself so bad, why don't you do it yourself? Go ahead, pinch your nipples."

Hesitantly, you gripped at your right breast, letting your thumb roll over your nipple gently and couldn't help but moan as you pinched and pulled at it - desperately trying to receive pleasure from yourself as you continued to rock your hips back and forth - sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you bring your other hand to fondle at your left breast, gripping and squishing at the skin - closing your eyes and pretending it was him playing with your nipples.

Your bouncing became more desperate, frantic even, and a pool of pleasure was beginning to build at your abdomen.

"H-Help . . ." You sputtered out, but Erwin didn't seem to be particularly interested in helping you out, his own breath ragged and shaking. More than anything, he wanted to grab your hips and snap his upwards into yours - but reminded himself that it wasn't about his pleasure but, instead, teaching you a lesson.

"You seem to -" Erwin groaned a bit, "You seem to -" He repeated himself, "Be handling it just fine -"

You bounced more desperately against his cock, his tip smashing easily into your sweet spot as you slid up and down against him with ease, clearly exhausted but still desperate to get something out of this entire punishment.

Before you knew it, the tension in the pit of your stomach had broke and you were gushing all over his dick and your own thighs, your body tensing and shaking as you orgasmed.

Erwin himself hadn't orgasmed - though he came close. In truth, the only times he could orgasm was when he took control himself. But his pleasure hadn't come from the sex itself, but instead watching you desperately and tiredly fuck yourself stupid on his cock, rocking back and forth pathetically as you tried to work for some kind of release.

Besides, bad little playthings that misbehaved didn't deserve to have their pussy dripping with his cum - no matter how desperately they wanted to.

Very gently, he raised you off his cock and helped you lay down beside him.

Slowly, he zipped himself up and leaned himself over on his arms, pressing a very gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I think you've redeemed yourself."

He had half a mind to roll you over onto your stomach and fuck you to sleep - but punishments were punishments for a reason.

Instead, he stood up and grabbed your clothes from the end of the bed, putting them in the hamper before changing into his own pajamas and crawling back under the sheets himself.

Erwin leaned over, placing one more gentle kiss to your cheek before turning over to turn off the lamp at his bedside.

"If you decide to behave, then tomorrow will be a better day."

With that blunt, yet cheeky, comment - he turned the silver finial on the lamp, shutting off the light with a gentle click.

[booksarelife-stuff]

Godric’s Hollow’s 286th Annual Lawn Competition

My entry for the August Jily Challenge! @jilychallenge

Prompt:  my mother hired you to mow the lawn but can you put your shirt back on its distracting me, and omg stOP grinning at me like that I’m swooning (I did not follow this at all)

Between adjusting to her new town and the hot rude neighbor, Lily is determined to prove herself in Godric’s Hollow by winning their annual lawn competition. Featuring both shirtless Lily and James. 

My partner was the amazing @joyseuphoria, whose creativity and ideas really helped me write this fic! She came up with so many fun ideas and was a great partner!

Word Count: 5,075

Read on Ao3      Masterlist

When Lily opened the door to her small cottage to the outside, she took in the fresh air. 

Godric’s Hollow was so different from her and Marlene’s old apartment back in London. She could open her door and find a bright blue sky and fresh air instead of the stale smell that the hallway had reeked of. It was a nice and welcomed change.

She pulled the door behind her, taking a second to lock the door. Just as she turned to walk down her small concrete path to the sidewalk, she heard a sudden exclamation. 

She whipped her head around just as the words “Dibs!” left the tall man standing on his own walkway right by some overgrown bushes.  

He was looking right at her. There was no mistaking what or who was talking about. His eyes widened dramatically as Lily met his eyes. The man’s friend in front of him doubled over with laughter. 

“Did you just call ‘dibs’ on me?” she asked, anger coloring her voice. 

“No…” The man said, his tone culpable. His friend shook his head, still holding back laughs. “Well okay, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking!”

Lily didn’t want to hear whatever half-assed explanation the man was going to stammer out to her. She just rolled her eyes and continued on her way to the sidewalk, not paying attention to whatever the man was saying to her. 

As Lily stomped her way to her first day at her new job, she hoped she would lose the bad attitude and that man was not her neighbor. 

But of course, Lily’s hope meant nothing. 

That very night, there was a knock on her door shortly after she just got back from work. Lily groaned slightly, pulling herself off her couch and navigated through the maze of boxes she still hadn’t unpacked. 

She stubbed her toe on her entryway table and was holding back curses as she opened the door to see four men standing on her stoop. One of which was the man from the morning. 

“Hello,” the shortest man said, smiling. He was pale blonde and seemed to have not lost the baby fat on his face even though he had to be at least Lily’s age. “We’re your neighbors and we wanted to introduce ourselves after the little mishap this morning.”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up. 

“And we want to know what to call you besides Dibs,” the man with shoulder-length wavy black hair said. He had a smirk on his lips that Lily knew just meant trouble. The dibs man, who was trying to hide in the back besides being one the tallest, smacked him lightly on the head. 

“What Sirius meant to say is that we want to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m Remus,” the tallest of the group with a light white scar across his face. “This is Sirius. Peter’s over to the right. And the one who called dibs is James.”

James groaned. “You guys said you weren’t going to do this to me!”

“And you trusted us?” the blonde, Peter said, innocently. 

“The last time that I do,” James said, glaring at Peter. Sirius rolled his eyes and Remus’s smile didn’t waver. 

“Are you guys just going to bicker on my doorstep?” Lily asked, leaning in the door jam, her arms crossed. Three pairs of eyes flickered back to her, James looking at the ground. 

“No, sorry. We really are here to make introductions,” Peter said, smiling. 

Lily assessed the men for a second. Her eyes stopped for a moment on James. She took in the large square frames and his curly hair. She moved on when she realized that she had spent a moment too long on him. 

She took a deep breath and made her millionth introduction for the day. 

“I’m Lily,” she said. 

“Well, it was nice to meet you. If you ever need anything, just call ‘Dibs’ really loudly and James will come running,” Sirius said, his smile seemingly sincere. 

“Man, fuck you guys. I’m getting new flatmates!” James said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

The ribbing on their mate brought a smile to her face, but the man was far from forgiven.

~~~

Lily wondered if her own small town had oddities like Godric’s Hollow. From the people to some of the town events, there seemed to be something that broke her brain a little bit. 

Like Bathilda, the sweet old woman who came into the library where Lily worked every day. 

Bathilda would come in, walking faster than Lily did, but with a walker, to where the new movies were placed. Ever since Bathilda found out Lily wasn’t from Godric’s Hollow, Bathilda would tell Lily all the town history she knew. From claiming there was magic or a coven of witches here to what the last mayor did to get impeached, Bathilda told Lily all of it. 

Like a true customer service worker, Lily just smiled and nodded. She enjoyed Bathilda’s stories but she didn’t really believe them. 

“Ah, it’s summer!” Bathilda said, giving Lily a bright smile, a stack of movies balancing on her walker as she approached the circulation desk. “The lawn competition should be starting soon.”

“Lawn competition?” Lily asked, reaching forward and grabbing the movies when they were in reach. 

“Aye,” Bathilda said, her white hair that was in a bun moving as she nodded her head. “It started right after they burned all the witches here. To bring back nature to the area.”

Lily just nodded, not knowing what else to say to Bathilda. 

“You best be planning for it. Some folks here take it really seriously,” Bathilda warned. 

Based on everything Lily knew about the population here, a lawn competition is exactly something the people would take seriously. 

Lily didn’t think much of the lawn competition until she got home and saw a colorful flyer on her doorstep with her newspaper. 

Godric’s Hollow’s 286th Annual Lawn Competition- Bringing native plants and beauty back to the Hollow.

Lily frowned as she inspected the poster. She needed to pay closer attention to Bathilda’s stories. 

She heard the jingle of keys coming from the boy’s house and she looked to see if it was Remus. 

Unfortunately, it was James leaving. He had his running clothes on, shorts, and a fitted t-shirt. He had a sweatband holding back his bangs. 

She had come to like her neighbors in the month of her being in Godric’s Hollow. She was particularly fond of Remus, but being fond of him meant that a fondness had grown for the others as well, even with their stupid nicknames for each other. 

Lily was even fond of James too. Just a little bit. The dibs incident wasn’t forgotten and though he apologized, he never fully explained what it was really about. 

He was better with his friends, in Lily’s eyes. With his friends, he was goofy and outgoing. He could make the whole group laugh to tears. But whenever he and Lily interacted alone, it was painfully awkward and he almost always managed to insult Lily in some way. 

She sighed and called out anyway just as James was putting his headphones on. 

“Hey, James!” she yelled. James jumped and turned, pulling a bud out. 

“Hello, Lily,” he said, politely. “Need something?”

She waved the flyer and James' eyes followed it, trying to see what it was. Even with his glasses, he was still blind as a bat. 

“What’s this all about?”

“The lawn competition?” he asked, walking across his small yard to the waist-high fence that separated their land. 

“So it’s a real thing?” she asked, frowning. James nodded as he leaned against the fence. 

“The old tale here is that it started after the last witches were burned,” James said. Lily blinked at him in disbelief, but James looked as neutral as ever, so she decided to just move on. 

“What do you do for it? Water your grass or something?” Lily asked. James let out a breath of air like a silent laugh. 

“No. It’s all about bringing plants native to the area back. And in the last decade or so, it’s kinda turned into a competition of who can do the most ridiculous things.”

“You’re fucking with me,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “Ridiculous things like what?”

James looked amused, his hazel eyes sparkling. “I think the winner last year made some constellations out of corncockles.”

This town was crazy. Grade A, certified crazy. 

“It’s optional though. You don’t have to participate,” James continued. “People here spend years planting to just win one year. You’ll have some stiff competition.”

Lily felt the flare of anger at his words. “So you don’t think I can win?” she asked, crossing her arms and crushing the flyer. Lily knew she was being a bit competitive, but everything to do with James set her on edge. 

James seemed to have picked up on Lily’s temper flaring. He stopped leaning the fence and straightened up. 

“I didn’t say that. I just said some people spend years planning to win,” James reiterated.

Lily narrowed her eyes. 

“Well, I’m going to win,” Lily said. James huffed. 

“Good luck with that,” James said, turning away and popping a headphone into his ear. 

Lily let out a noise. “I’d like to see you win with those overgrown hedges!” 

James turned around and smiled brightly. “Those are for the competition!”

Lily stared at his back as he started off in a jog down the street. Once he was out of view, she took a survey of her yard. 

There wasn’t much. Just grass and a small tree. She looked back to the boy’s yard and it did look like it had a lot more potential than Lily’s. Greener grass, some shrubbery, and window boxes that have yet to be filled. 

Lily headed up to her front door, determined to spend the night researching plants and grass. And why witches getting accused and burned would start a lawn competition. 

~~~

There was a plant nursery in Godric’s Hollow. There was no website, no place for her to browse the catalog before making any purchases. Just a Facebook page that got updated once a month with grainy pictures. 

It was better than Lily expected when she finally dragged herself there after work. There were a few people browsing, one man had a large cart filled with pallets of various plants. Like a lot. Lily wondered if he was the corncockle constellations guy. 

Google only took Lily so far with her research, so she looked in the gardening section at the library and had found out that someone had written a book about native plants, specific to the region; The Southern England Guide to Native Plants and Shrubs by Euphemia Potter. She had that open in her hand as she walked around the nursery. 

She did a quick walk around, trying to identify what plants were in the book. Most of them she could find, but based on the care instructions, her yard wouldn’t be good for them. 

She paused in front of a plant labeled “Pitcher Plant”. It looked weird, but she supposed it would do. She was flipping through the book, trying to find out what the care instructions were when she felt someone beside her. 

“Don’t use that plant,” James said, making Lily jump. She glared at him as she rightened herself. 

“And why is that?” she asked. 

“It’ll discount you from the competition,” he said, touching one of the stems. “It’s an invasive species.”

Lily tore her eyes away from James, back to the plant. 

“This plant also eats insects,” he pointed out. “Bad for the bees.”

“Oh,” Lily breathed. “Yeah, I don’t want that.”

She closed the book and sighed, and looked back at James to see him staring at the book in her hands. 

“Nice book,” he said with a small smile. She looked back down to it and made the connection. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know Euphemia, would you?” she asked, her eyes trailing the Potter after Euphemia on the book cover. 

“I knew her very well,” James said, his eyes turning soft for a quick second. “I think there’s a section in there, around page 203. Most of those plants work with our yard type.”

Despite the sincerity in his voice, her eyes narrowed. She took in his lanky form and his hair that was getting frizzier by the second thanks to the humidity. 

“Why are you helping me?” she asked, crossing her arms. James laughed and ran a hand through his hair, making some curls stick straight up. 

“I just don’t want you to start an invasive plant plague here,” he said, smirking. “It would ruin my lawn too.”

“I wasn’t going to use it if it wasn't in the book!” she pointed out. James gave her a look and Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m not some saboteur!” 

“Yeah, I didn’t peg for the type,” he said, frowning. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Your nice is rather pointed and mean if you haven’t noticed.”

James just let out a laugh. “Only to you, Evans.”

~~~

The sun was hot and beating down on Lily’s shoulders as she was on her knees, squinting at a piece of paper that was just getting dirty as she tried to dig the appropriate depth for the honeysuckle bushes she bought. 

She still had no idea what she was doing with her lawn, but she figured she could just add in some plants to spaces anyway to liven up her yard. 

It was kind of relaxing, she had come to realize. All the research aside; she was able to just dig and place a pretty thing down in her yard. Tomorrow she could look out the window and admire her work. 

And it was something to preoccupy her time. Normally, her weekends had been full of just sitting on the couch, reading, or watching something on the television. Boredom would creep in usually, or the overwhelming feeling of missing her friends. 

But so far, gardening had kept her preoccupied. She didn’t feel that same loneliness creep in as she neared the two-hour mark of her being out there. 

She also talked to Remus a bit, telling him about the newest book she read. She shared a wave with Sirius as he hopped onto his obnoxiously loud motorbike. 

It wasn’t until her fourth honeysuckle was in the ground, that she looked up at the sound of humming and instantly regretted that decision. 

There was James, headphones in his ears and humming away. He had an assortment of his gardening tools with him and tons of flowers all spread out in plastic containers along their walkway.  

But what made Lily regret her life was the fact that he was shirtless. 

It wasn’t a secret that James was the most attractive out of the bunch at his house, though Sirius did give him a run for his money. With his curly hair, infectious smile, and his ability to make everyone laugh. You could look over his lanky limbs and knobby knees. Marlene, after she had come to visit one weekend, had even made Lily admit that if it wasn’t for the whole “dibs” business, she would have probably fancied him. 

It was true, but it was rude of Marlene to point out. 

He wasn’t buff or had any defined abs by any stretch, but Lily thought he was still well sculpted. His arms looked nice too, as she watched him unspool the garden hose. 

She tore her eyes away and tried to focus on her honeysuckle.

Lily stole a few more glances but overall was dedicated to her honeysuckle plant. 

Just as she patted the last of her dirt down around the roots, she suddenly felt the blast of cold water rush down her head. 

She let out a yelp and quickly raised to her feet as the blast continued to drown her newly planted honeysuckles. In the field of her vision, she saw James scrambling with the other end, trying to pull it towards him and out of where Lily was in the line of fire. 

It sprayed her one more time before James finally got it to stop. He ran over, an apologetic look in his eyes. 

“Lily, I’m so sorry. I forgot the handle is stuck on the nozzle and I didn’t know you were over there,” he said.

Lily sighed deeply as she pulled her t-shirt that was sticking to her skin away from her body, the fabric heavy. 

“It’s fine,” Lily said in a defeated tone. “Why was your hose over here anyway?” 

“I was making sure there were no tangles before I watered the hedges,” James said. 

Lily barely registered his words and she pulled her shirt off, not wanting to deal with the heaviness on her while she tried to garden. She threw her wet shirt on the ground next to her, leaving her only in her black sports bra. She looked up, running both hands through her shoulder-length hair to stop it from sticking to her face. 

James was rooted to his spot on the other side of the fence. His gaze locked onto her face. It was only then that Lily realized she had just casually thrown her shirt off in front of him.

“It was an accident,” she said. “You didn’t point the hose at me with intention, unlike the dibs. At least you watered my honeysuckles for me.”

James let out a laugh that could be mistaken for a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m still sorry. For this and the dibs incident.”

She laughed. “I think you’re going to have to apologize for that as long as we’re neighbors.”

He smiled, amused, and nodded his head. “Yeah, I’m never living that down. Doesn’t matter that it wasn’t actually what I was doing.”

Lily tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “What were you actually doing?”

“The truth is only slightly less good,” he admitted, his smile falling a bit. “I—Well, no we—No, I. I noticed you when you were moving in and I did make a comment—” Lily’s eyebrows raised. “—A respectful comment!”

“What’s a respectful comment?” she interrupted. 

“I said ‘I think our new neighbor is beautiful’,” James said, a hand coming to the back of his neck. “That’s respectful, right?”

Lily’s heart decided to skip a beat and she felt a blush start to rise on her cheeks. She played it off with an eye roll. 

“Anyway, we happened to be leaving at the same time and Sirius turned to me and told me to make a move ‘before someone else did’, were his exact words…” James said, making a face. “And then I said ‘What do you want me to do? Point at her and call ‘Dibs’?’”

Lily started laughing. “So all I heard was ‘dibs’.”

“Yeah… I probably shouldn’t have yelled it for emphasis,” he said. 

She shook her head. Her opinion of him changed slightly, but not enough to be okay with the way her heart was racing as she looked at his shirtless form again.

~~~

The summer seemed to breeze past. Lily spent almost every moment of her free time working outside after she had formed her plan for her entry to the lawn competition. 

There were a lot of times where James was outside too and they would talk sometimes. Most ribbing each other like petty housewives about the state of their various lawns. It brought a smile to her face more than she would like to admit. 

They had some nice normal discussion too. Lily had walked to the fence, holding the library’s copy of The Southern England Guide to Native Plants and Shrubs by Euphemia Potter. She wanted to ask James a question about one of the ivy species that was mentioned. 

He had gotten that same soft smile on his face when he saw the book and Lily had to ask again. 

“Did you know the author?” she asked, looking into his hazel eyes. 

He nodded. “My mum. She was a botanist. She came to Godric’s Hollow to observe how the competition was helping with local pollinating numbers. Met my dad, that year’s winner, and ended up staying.”

“That is so sweet!” Lily said, smiling a little before it fell. “Are your parents still around?”

He shook his head. “Dad passed away during my first year of uni. Mum passed away last November.”

“My dad passed away in sixth year,” she said. “It gets better, but it still hurts.”

They continued on, both talking a little more but still refusing to disclose what they were doing for the competition, even though Lily’s was a little more obvious with every passing day. James seemed to just be doing normal landscaping, besides his overgrown hedges. 

Lily began to notice a lot of things about James. Besides his tendency to speak without thinking, his heart is always in the right place. It caught Lily off-guard most times. 

Something shifted in her over the weeks as they worked on the lawns. 

It was two days before the competition when Lily got home to see James outside, hedge clippers by his feet as he examined his four very tall and overgrown bushes. 

“I hope you’re not planning to win with those,” Lily called. 

James smirked over to Lily. “Just wait until I give them a trim.”

“Nicely trimmed hedges aren’t going to beat my lawn.”

James looked at the monstrosity of Lily’s yard. There were lines of primrose flowers snaking through her front lawn and turning to the back. 

Lily had spent back-breaking hours and an embarrassing amount of money to make a maze of her yard. It wasn’t like a true maze, you could see every aisle because the primroses didn’t get very tall, but it was the end that really made it worth it. 

Lily had converted her small back patio to a fairy garden. She used hanging planters, climbing ivy, and lights to really make it special.

James hadn’t seen it yet. She was going to show him once she had won the competition. 

It wasn’t until the morning of the judging that Lily saw that she actually had competition. 

Standing proud at the edge of his lawn were four perfectly cut hedges in the shape of a deer, a dog, a wolf, and a large rat. 

Lily stood in awe by her window as James was taking small scissors and cutting more details and cleaning up lines. 

She opened up her front door and walked to her fence. James turned and met her with a smirk. 

“How did you do that?” she asked. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he said. “I watched a million Youtube videos.”

Lily brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she inspected the hedges behind me. “What’s the inspiration?”

“Have you heard Sirius call me Prongs?” James asked. 

Lily had heard their stupid nicknames in passing. She thought Peter was the worst but all of them were stupid. 

“Your stupid nicknames, yeah.”

“So I’m Prongs, Sirius is Padfoot, Remus is Moony, and Peter is Wormtail,” he said. Then made a sweeping gesture back to the hedges. 

She blinked in confusion as she looked back at the hedges. 

“I’m a little lost,” she admitted. 

James sighed. “So, I’m Prongs because Peter once told me the way my hair stands up looks like antlers. Sirius is Padfoot because he is the king of sneaking around. Remus is Moony because he exclusively wore those weird shirts that have wolves howling at the moon when we were 12.”

Lily let out a loud laugh, picturing a small Remus in those kinds of shirts.

“Peter?” she asked in-between laughs.  

“We were sworn to secrecy for that story,” he said. “He would actually murder me if I said it.”

Lily laughed and James joined in. 

The judging wasn’t until the afternoon, so Lily did some last-minute weeding and watering. She made sure the lights in the secret fairy garden still worked and made sure there were no dead leaves insight. 

James was standing on his lawn, talking to two of the most oddly dressed people Lily had ever seen. 

The woman was dressed in what Lily could only think of as a robe. It was a bright blue, with belled sleeves. The man was in similar clothes, but a blinding yellow with a long white beard. They both had hats that looked like top hats, only decorated with flowers. They also had clipboards in hand. 

Yet another town oddity that Lily would just have to brush off. 

James caught sight of Lily and waved her over. 

“This is another competitor. She just moved here about three months ago,” James told them as she neared. 

“Hello, I’m Lily,” she said upon arrival. 

“I’m Albus Dumbledore,” the man with a smile and twinkle in his eye. 

“I’m Minerva,” the woman said. 

Lily shook both of their hands. 

“We’ve been judging this competition for, what? Forty years, now Minerva?” Albus said as Lily raised her eyebrows, impressed. 

The woman pinched her lips and nodded. “Twice as long as these two have been alive.”

Lily, James, and Albus laughed. “Pleasantries aside, let’s get to judging.”

James and Lily stayed behind as they went and started looking at James’s hedges, inspecting it with great detail. 

“Still using those silly nicknames?” Minerva called, as she began writing down on her clipboard. 

“Of course,” James answered. “I would have put a mouse for you, Minnie, but we ran out of room.”

Lily nudged him as Minnie shot him a glare. “Unwise to insult the judges, James Fleamont.”

James frowned and Lily laughed. “Fleamont?” Lily asked. 

“That was my father’s name,” James replied. “And I got stuck with it as a middle name.” 

“I take it you know Minerva pretty well if she’s using your middle name?” Lily questioned. 

“Yeah, she was one of my mum’s best friends,” James sighed. “And before you think that means I have some kind of advantage, don’t. She’s going to judge mine ten times harder.”

It took about ten minutes before Minerva started snapping pictures and Albus stopped writing on his clipboard. 

“I think we’re ready to move on,” Albus said smiling. 

They came around the gate and Lily looked at them to the entrance of her lawn maze. James hopped the fence to join them and Lily laughed as she heard Minerva call him a showoff under her breath. 

“This is a maze made entirely out of primroses,” Lily said before stepping away from the entrance. “See if you can get to the end.”

“Normally, it’s customary not to be able to see all the different paths,” Minerva pointed out, looking across the tops of all the lines of flowers she had made. 

“Ah, but most can still get lost with directions in front of them,” Albus said, wisely. “Let’s see if we can win, Minerva.” 

They started off, Albus in the lead, who turned left towards the dead end. Minerva tapped him and made him go in the right direction, following her lead. 

Lily stayed by the entrance with James. He turned his back after a few seconds. 

“I want to do it by myself later,” he said. 

It took them about ten minutes before Lily saw them take the path that led them back to the secret fairy garden. She smirked at James when she heard Minerva’s surprised gasp and Albus’s appreciative chuckle. 

It took another ten minutes to take notes and pictures of it before they were saying their goodbyes. 

They were down the lane before James turned to Lily. 

“I’m doing the maze now,” he said, his eyes shining with amusement.  

Lily wandered behind him, laughing as he took the wrong turn that led him to exit that made him start all over. 

But eventually, he got it. And suddenly it was just her and James on her back patio, surrounded by ivy and twinkling lights. She even found a used metal patio furniture set that she placed.  It smelled good too, from the extra honeysuckle she placed back there. 

“Pretty nice, Evans,” James said, looking around. “And really good for your first year.”

Lily’s stomach swooped with praise. “Thank you,” she replied. “Your hedges are pretty nice too.”

It was shady in her garden area, so she invited James to sit until they announced the winner.

James told her the story about how he ruined his family’s competition entry by squishing a whole patch of Lily of the Valley’s because he thought they would be comfortable. Lily told him that her sister’s name was Petunia and that her mother was Violet. 

The hours flew by as they sat there and talked. Around six is when a moment of bravery came to Lily. 

“Want to go get dinner?” she asked him. 

A bright smile appeared on James’s face. “Like, just the two of us?”

“Yeah, just the two of us.”

“I’d love that,” James said, a hand coming up and raking through his hair. 

They stood up and were about to leave when James’s phone pinged. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked down before gasping. 

“It’s Minnie!” he exclaimed. 

“With the results?” Lily asked, taking a step forward and invading James’s space. 

He didn’t seem to mind. “Yep… it looks like… Oh! I'm the runner up!”

“Who won?” she asked, frowning. 

James unlocked his phone and pocketed it. He looked at Lily with a soft smile. “Lily’s Maze and Enchanted Garden.”

“Really?” she asked, stepping closer. James nodded and their eyes locked. 

In the heat of the moment, Lily stood on tip-toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

Lily could have sworn that the world had slowed its rotation for a minute as pulled away and their eyes met again. It definitely stopped when James cupped her jaw and pulled her in for a real kiss. 

They both were smiling when James pulled away. She didn’t know how long they stared at each, smiling like loons until she found her voice again. 

“So, uh… Dinner?” she asked. James let out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah, dinner.”

They just entered the maze again when Lily stopped and turned around. She got close to him again and he smiled, thinking she was going to kiss him again. 

Instead, she put a finger to his chest. 

“Dibs.”

[fatefulfaerie]

Once Upon A Time

Long one shot under the cut. Every once in a while I obsess over Gelato (Roman x Neo) so...yeah...

Spoilers for RWBY: Roman Holiday (read it if you haven’t it’s so good!!)

He didn’t know how to treat it like anything but a heist.

Roman had definitely kissed a girl before, Bleu Berry at the orphanage when he was twelve, Crimsen Blank when he was fifteen, Verd Webster when he was seventeen, and then of course the off and on thing with Chameleon while he worked for Lil’ Miss.

But something about kissing Neo was special, something not to be messed up or done lightly like every other young woman he had kissed. He had to do it right.

It had seemed like a lifetime ago since Roman had planned a heist without Neo, and he found himself at a loss because of it. She really was the brains of their partnership...and the brawn…

Why was he even here?

Neo gave him a distinct look. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

He was staring again, at her instead of the television. His cover story was that he stared into space when he was really tired.

Lie.

It was really him taking glances from under her nose, like pickpocketing a stranger’s wallet.

Steal.

Cheat.

Survive

Love.

When did that get in there?

Normally when they sat down together to watch the large, holographic screen that emitted from Neo’s facedown scroll -- Roman still hadn’t gotten his hands on a new scroll. He was perfectly able to steal one of course, especially since the Vale City Mall had the most pathetic security. He just kept straight up forgetting -- they were watching themselves on TV, laughing about the coverage of their recent ridiculous robbery and eating spicy hot wings from the Cuckoo Crazy Chicken Shack.

This was the first time that Roman was thinking about someone else while watching his own name flash across the screen.

He was catching feelings for her, and there was no doubt about it. He had been catching feelings ever since she saved his life in the alley where she first showed off her semblance, and then more and more as they spent time together.

Roman pinpointed the moment she showed him the fabulous outfit she had made for him as that oh moment that you read about in romance novels.

Not that he read. He accidentally stole a book once. Once. Neo was the reader. He could hardly summon the patience. When Neo gave him a book to read, he skipped to the end. Roman didn’t see the point in all the rest.

But for some reason with this conundrum, this real-life conundrum, he couldn’t bring himself to skip to the end, to just kiss her like it meant just as much as any other kiss.

He tried to plan it like a heist, watching Neo, memorizing her routine, figuring the best moment of the day to perform the act, but it didn’t work. Neo was too unpredictable. She wasn’t like a bank or a warehouse that had their security guards on the same schedule every day. Her chaos was part of her charm, always doing the unexpected, but Roman was absolutely lost as to when he should make his move, if at all. They had a good thing going here, after all, and for all he knew he could kiss her one second and be knocked out cold the next.

Roman felt a slap on his shoulder and he looked over.

What the hell?

Neo was mute yet Roman could hear her say it. She must have been doing airplane arms before she slapped him.

She pointed at him and then her right ear, her forehead creased with inquisition.

“No, I am not going deaf,” Roman said.

She must have been clapping and snapping to get his attention.

“I’m just thinking,” he explained, the words spilling out just as he realized he might have to come up with an answer for what he was thinking.

But Neo nodded in understanding. What a wonderful human being. She mimed sleep, resting her head on hands that touched palms.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “Sleep. Good idea.”

Since his fancy condo was ambushed by Lil’ Miss, the two partners in crime had settled in an abandoned building that had gone from being a restaurant to a convenience store to a nail salon in the span of three months, before being abandoned for a year now. This street was a terrible place for an above-board business and even the Vale Government had let it rot, too small and inconsequential to be made into a factory or a warehouse of any sort.

Neo and Roman found it a week after the skirmish at the Vanille mansion. It was dilapidated and falling apart but it was only as broken as each of them were before they found each other. They quickly saw it as home.

So Roman stood up in order to head towards his bedroll in the corner. Neo watched him with a suspicious eye.

“Now that we’ve done as much damage as we could with the information from Mr. Vanille’s computer…”

Neo had already noticed that Roman never referred to the late Jimmy Vanille as her dad. Biologically he was her dad but he never treated her like a daughter.

“We may as well start on this dust business,” he continued. “Dust Till Dawn seems like the easiest target to me but I’d rather start bigger, something more fun.”

He turned around in case Neo had anything to add but she only stood up and paced towards him, using her semblance to change into Roman Torchwick himself. Roman looked at the mirrored version of himself as Neo made fun of the way he had been acting, staring with a blank expression, losing his train of thought. She then changed back into herself and shrugged her shoulders with her hands up as if to ask him why.

“I…I don’t know.”

He stammered. He rarely stammered.

She crossed her hands over her heart, then offered her hands to him. He knew what that meant.

Can I help?

She was always so thoughtful.

“It, umm…”

He had to be confident about this, he absolutely had to. He was Roman Torchwick, after all, the fabulous, the famous. He was fearless. He was clever and could get any girl he wanted, even the best of the best that stood in front of him. He could do this.

“Roman Torchwick this is the VPD,” a voice bellowed. Roman closed and opened his eyes.

“Why is it never you?” He asked Neo quietly, who was smirking. She stuck out her tongue.

“Come out with your hands up,” the loud voice continued. “We’ve got you surrounded.”

Neo turned back into Roman.

“Meet you at Forever Fall?” He asked.

Neo nodded and ran off to get caught by the police. Roman pocketed Neo’s scroll and grabbed Melodic Cudger and Hush, the two hooks of which clinked in his grasp.

“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Torchwick,” he heard as he was halfway out the window in the back. Roman froze and listened. He dared to let his vanity doom him. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t do you justice.”

Roman turned his head.

What was that supposed to mean?

He could see the scene barely, through a gap in one of the distant boarded windows. Neo, in his image of course, stood with her hands in surrender.

“A volatile jokester,” the policeman continued, circling around Neo. “Always has something to remark. Doesn’t seem to want to shut up.” He stopped his spherical pacing and turned on his heel. “Do you know where I got these phrases?”

Neo shook her head.

“Vale Police Department records,” he said. “It’s how they describe you, and it’s how I know you aren’t really in front of me right now, are you Torchwick?”

He felt the panic in his heart, he tried to slip out the window but his forehead met a gun as it cocked with a click.

Their strategy had worked twice already, a disguised Neo getting arrested as Roman fled to a rendezvous location. Neo would use her semblance to escape captivity easily and they would have cheated the system. But it seems the police caught on.

Roman was almost impressed as he bumped shoulders with Neo in the back of the cop car, their weapons confiscated and Neo’s scroll slammed in half by the heel of one of the officers. Their hands were literally tied and Roman might have found a way to fight his way out of this but hey, he had never seen the interior of the Vale Police Department before. He figured it was time for a grand tour of the rathole’s rat hole.

“What’s that?” were the next words out of his mouth twenty minutes later. The VPD building was disappointing. Roman regretted wanting a look inside within a couple steps.

“Semblance inhibitor,” the officer replied, latching a second pair of handcuffs onto Neo’s wrists and only Neo’s wrists. “New tech from Atlas. It drains aura.”

Neo looked at Roman with a flash of panic in her eyes. She was always so confident in her chaos that it was a rare sight to see her scared.

“It’s okay,” he managed softly.

“We’re submitting her for questioning,” the officer continued, nearly interrupted as if Roman hadn’t said anything. “And we’re sending you back to Mistral. Lil’ Miss will be elated to learn that you are alive.”

They began to pull them away along two different hallways.

“No,” Roman said, struggling. “No!”

He lurched for Neo with all his might and caught her lips. That one moment of vulnerability where she tried to keep him with her cost him his better sense as he was very nearly yanked away, only seeing Neo’s face in shock.

“She’s mute, you idiots!” Neo heard Roman exclaim. “She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. You lay a hand on her and so help me gods I’ll--”

A door slammed shut. Neo didn’t get to hear that last bit.

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

Trivia Vanille a.k.a. “Neopolitan”

Height: 4’10”

Age: 19

Prisoner ID Number: 827338

It was the first time in several years that she genuinely smiled in a picture, and it was a mugshot. Although she could see in her file the name that was dead to her, they referred to her verbally only as Neopolitan. The respect made Neo over the moon with happiness, made her almost forget her concern to get out of this without her semblance. The lock on her normal handcuffs were simple enough to pick once she was left alone but the one that shone blue and drained her energy even now would take a bit more creativity.

Roman Torchwick

Height: 5’11”

Age: 27

Prisoner ID Number: 827299

How many times did he have to tell them? He was six foot three. Six. Feet. Three. Inches. They never listened to him and it bothered him that it was on his permanent record that he didn’t measure up to at least six feet. For goodness sake, he was a celebrity. Any dunce on the street knows that he has orange hair, a white jacket, a grey scarf tied around his neck, and dashing emerald eyes. Everyone knows that he gave himself the birthday of October 31st (the mother who abandoned him at the orphanage didn’t care to specify the day that he had an excuse to steal cake) and that he was six foot three. It was on his mugshot and everything. He pleaded until he had two hands on the bars of his temporary holding cell. He was on his knees.

“Lights out.”

He sighed.

“Fine.”

He heard a foot stomp behind him. His cellmate was standing against the barred window that let in only streaks of moonlight, only fractions of nightlife and remnants of an already crumbled world.

He was a quite heavyset man and Roman’s heart skipped a beat. Roman was good in a fight but he wasn’t sure about these odds as he slowly stood up. This guy looked to have the strength of ten men and his arms were crossed.

Descending pink triangles dispelled the illusion and Roman choked a sigh of relief when the burly man turned into the small silhouette of Neo herself. Her hip cocked to the side and Roman knew, although he couldn’t see it, that she was smirking.

Roman rushed forth and hugged her, embraced her desperately like he never had before. He must have really thought they weren’t getting out of this one together.

“How?” he asked when they separated, his eyes searching her moonlit face.

Neo mimed picking a lock but then shook her head. She then mimed smashing her heel into an invisible pair of handcuffs between her two wrists and gave Roman a thumbs up.

“Good to know Atlas technology goes so fancy on design that brute force is the solution to breaking it. Would you like to pick the cell lock or shall I?”

Neo nodded and skipped to do just that, as if that were the easy part. Neo plucked pins from her mess of brown and pink hair and got to work kneeling before the lock and snaking her arms around the other side of the bars. Roman leaned on the bedpost and ignored his actual cellmate, the actual burly, wideset man who was knocked out on the bottom bunk and had a gnarly bruise the resembled Neo’s heeled boots across his face.

“About earlier, I…” Roman hesitated. “I guess I just wanted to apologize if I took you by surprise. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do, don’t get me wrong, I just…”

After several clicks, the door swung open and Neo turned around to face Roman, approaching him. Roman wondered if she had even heard him until she grasped his tied gray scarf and pulled him into her lips. It was all the answer Roman needed as they explored each other’s mouths, Neo slowly backing up and Roman chasing her, walking forward. When she let loose his lips they were out of the cell. She smiled. Roman was absolutely smitten.

She turned into a security guard, one they had seen earlier and she took his hand, Roman giggling under his breath as they fled from the Vale Police Department and into the wild night they had claimed as their own.

The memory became foggy, as it always did. It turned into a million other nights of chaos with him, all melding into a single lifetime that was now deceased. Trivia Vanille once died in the burning rubble of the Vanille Estate and left Neopolitan in her stead, but the moment Neo saw a blinding “X” over Roman’s aura gage a different Neopolitan had emerged. This one wasn’t languishing in her new sense of identity, wasn’t happy beyond belief in her friendship with this Torchwick guy. No, this Neopolitan was in pain, deep soulful, cutthroat, bleeding pain. When she threw a parasol and made her dad bleed she felt nothing. When her parents died because of the dust her dad harbored, she felt free. But when Roman died, she felt grief for the very first time, felt loss and lost in this world that didn’t understand her, would never understand her like he did.

Neo blinked her eyes open.

She liked when her dreams dipped into her memories up until the point where she woke up, where reality reminded her what was past and what was present.

It smelled like blood here. Neo had started to wonder if this is what it was like to be in the womb, gestating, trapped, waiting to be reborn in Salem’s image. The thought made Neo gag. This was the last place she wanted to be, seen as a mere chess piece in Salem’s game. She grew up as a chess piece that had been discarded, then used, then discarded again, like a dirty towel her parents kept forgetting about. What once liberated her was her newfound knowledge that her decisions could be her own but now she was CInder’s helper? beneficiary?

She would have to stomach it until Cinder upheld her end of the deal and got her to Ruby Rose.

Neo pushed against the bed she was assigned and sat up, although she would use the term bed extremely loosely. It was a hunk of red rock and the small room looked like the maw of a Grimm more than anything else. Neo would quantify it to a torture chamber if there wasn’t a small young man literally being tortured a few rooms over. She at least had it better off than him, but that didn’t say much.

Neo steadied her breath and closed her eyes. She thought of him, not the boy who screamed in anguish down the hallway but him. Roman. She thought of his brown, leather slip-on shoes and how much he hated the hassle of tying laces. She thought of his dark grey pants and how they collected around his ankles. She thought of his white coat and remembered tailoring it to his size, remembered thinking of the moment she would surprise him with it. She remembered his gloves and how it felt to be held by those hands. She remember his grey scarf and tried not to think about how it was on her neck instead of his. She tried to think of his piercing green eyes and his pumpkin orange hair, his bowler hat that had a red ribbon and a grey feather. She tried to remember his voice.

She opened her eyes and stood up slowly, pacing towards the illusion she had created, feeling tears sting in her eyes, feeling her heart beat with relief she tried to subdue.

“Neo,” he said softly.

She bawled, tears streaming down her face. She took the hat off her head and put it on her doll. She cupped his face with her hands and found herself missing having to go on her tippy toes like this.

Neo thought she could hold the illusion long enough to at least hug him, to at least derive some comfort from her memories and what her semblance was able to do with them. Yet, the illusion just as soon shattered, crumbling into shards of glass. Neo’s gasp was shaky as she looked down into her palms. Her breaths matched no rhythm and her soul bled as if she had lost him all over again. She looked up.

Cinder.

Her lip quivered. Neo couldn’t help it. Her brow furrowed in anger despite her sadness. The pink and the brown were like flames. And yet Cinder couldn’t even see her hate. No one could see anything of her.

“Salem wants everyone on the bridge,” Cinder said. “Welcome to reality.”

She walked off without a care and Neo fell to her knees, gathering the glass shards. She seethed with anger as she held them delicately in her hands. Her panting increased as balled her hands into fists, not caring in the slightest the sharp pain in her palms or the blood staining her white gloves.

She made a silent promise to Roman then, not to live for herself like she once did but to survive long enough to give Ruby Rose everything she deserved.

[depressing-debbie]

Hey, I was wondering if I could get fluff alphabet headcanons for Erwin please?

Of course!! 

Look at me! Posting twice in one day!! If anyone has any requests lmk bc I actually have motivation I guess!

Fluff Alphabet: Erwin

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He’s a big fan of both the traditional romantic dates, as well as more creative, personal dates. I think he’d want to go for a nice walk, tour a museum, or maybe go to the library/bookstore, or for a special occasion, a really fancy dinner with candles and everything.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

In terms of a physical feature, he would probably first notice his s/o’s eyes because he makes intense eye contact, and because he thinks you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes. But in general, he admires their spirit, and he thinks they’re absolutely stunning when they’re passionate about something, or when they’re focusing hard.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’s amazing at comforting his s/o, largely because he just knows them so well. He would be able to read what they’re feeling and know when they’re upset, first of all. He would probably put on their favorite movie or music, grab a giant blanket, and sit with them. If they want to talk, he has really insightful advice. If not, he’s content to just wrap his arms around them and physically comfort them. (which always works, by the way, because just try to name a single person who wouldn’t feel better after a hug from Erwin)

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

This man absolutely pictures the most simple, “boring” future with a nice house and a family, with family vacations and yardwork on Sundays. The idea of stability and calmness appeals to him so strongly, and even though he’d be content with just about any future that his s/o is involved in, that’s his dream.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

They’re equal when it comes down to anything important, but I think he’d lean towards being the more dominant person in the relationship. He’s a traditional guy, and unless it bothered his s/o at all, I think it’d make him happy to be the one to pay for dinner or make date night plans, that sort of thing. But again, they’re equal everywhere it actually matters.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Fights don’t happen often, but they can be a little bit intense when they do. If they’re arguing about something small, he’s immediately looking for some kind of easy compromise, which he’s excellent at. They only really fight over things that are especially serious. He’s too smart for his own good and he’s got impressive arguing skills, but he’s never setting out to hurt his s/o, just explain his perspective. Arguments can be heated, but they never last long, and again, they’re not common.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

I’m not the first person to point out that Erwin has a lot of self doubt, and his reputation has sort of brainwashed him into believing that he’s not deserving of good things. Because of that, their relationship surprises him all the time, and every day, he expresses to his s/o how much he appreciates them.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He’s completely honest and open with his s/o. There’s no reason for him to lie, he wouldn’t want to hide anything from them. And on the off chance he screws something up, he would rather work through it with them beside him then hide and deal with it on his own. 

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Like I said, he has big issues with his image and self worth. His s/o and their relationship are slowly helping him to recognize that he does deserve to be happy, and they help him to become more optimistic (whether they realize it or not). On the other hand, I think he would be committed to helping his s/o recognize their own worth and importance in return.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’s not a jealous person in general, although he does get a bit protective. The only time he would interfere is if he can tell his s/o is uncomfortable or annoyed, in which case he’s more than willing to step in and scare the person off. But again, that’s more out of concern for his s/o than actual jealousy.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Just look at that man and tell me you don’t think he was a good kisser. Probably a bit more reserved, especially for their first kiss, but still surprisingly passionate? Like he’s trying to physically portray how much he cares about them, if that makes sense. 

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He definitely thought about it for a little while before hand, not because he was nervous or unsure, but because he wanted to make sure he said it in a meaningful way. He definitely set up a special little date, like a picnic or a dinner, and even prepared a short little romantic speech, and it was very sweet. 

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He would LOVE to get married. If that’s not what his s/o wants, that’s perfectly fine, and he’d be happy to find a different way to express their commitment. But marriage sort of feeds into his idea of that perfect, stable future, and besides, he would jump on the opportunity to show his s/o how much he appreciates and cares about them. He’d come up with the most romantic, slightly elaborate proposal, probably not something public, but very grand. And of course, not much would change once they were married, but he would relish in that perceived sense of routine and stability.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Again, being the traditional guy he is, he’s big on traditional, slightly old fashioned nicknames. Mainly, it would be “angel”, but also “darling” or “love” (it’s very sweet).

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He’s pretty reserved about his feelings publicly, so it wouldn’t be obvious to outside people. People close to him might notice that he becomes a bit more optimistic and laughs a bit louder. With his s/o, however, he’s totally transparent, and he tells them over and over how much he loves them. Not that he has to, of course, because his body language makes it pretty obvious to them as well.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Definitely not big on PDA. He’s upfront about their relationship as long as his s/o agrees, it’s not something that he would want to hide. He’s fine holding their hand in public or wrapping an arm around them, but not really anything more obvious.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

He’s a surprisingly good dancer? Like, ballroom dancing. When one of them has had a stressful day, they put on old music and slow dance in the kitchen (it’s so romantic).

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s so romantic!! If you haven’t already figured it out, I really think he would like some of the traditional cliche romantic gestures, like roses or a candlelit dinner. But he’s also really creative, and he’d plan gestures that relate to his s/o’s interests and such. 

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He absolutely supports his s/o in anything they do, and he believes in them probably more than anyone else. He knows they will succeed in anything they put their mind to, and he takes it upon himself to offer help and support, doing whatever he can to help them reach their goals. It makes him actually really happy to see them setting big goals because it shows that they are choosing to believe in themselves, and because he loves seeing that they are passionate.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s more a routine kind of person, he likes the stability and comfort in some level of repetition. With that being said, he’s also definitely open to being adventurous, so like trying new restaurants or traveling together, so it would probably be a mix of both.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s incredibly understanding, he just knows his s/o so well. Erwin has very strong observational skills, and he learns pretty quickly how to read their emotions. He does sometimes have trouble relating to their issues, but he will always sympathize and comfort them, even if he can’t understand it. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is really important to him. Obviously, he’s pretty work oriented, so there genuinely might be some issues there if the two start to clash. But he also actively prevents that from happening, making time for both because he cares about his s/o SO much.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He really likes watching documentaries with his s/o. Learning about something new and interesting, and being able to share that experience between the two of them, makes him happy. And when he gets really into the topic, his s/o can see the excitement on his face, which is really cute.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He comes across a bit cold in general, but he’s actually very affectionate with his s/o. Especially when he’s stressed or upset, he just wants to curl up with them and forget about outside pressures. I also very specifically think that giving his s/o a quick little kiss would be part of his morning routine before they part for the day.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He misses them when they’re gone for a while, but he just throws himself into his work until they’re back, which he doesn’t mind at all. He’s busy, and his s/o probably is as well, so it’s unfortunately not unusual for them to go a little while without seeing each other. They always make up for it with an extra special date night afterwards, though.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s a strategist at heart, so of course he’d be willing to put in the effort and come up with ideas on how to keep their relationship strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes up with literal written plans when it seems like they’re a little out of whack.

[kth1]

Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq​​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy​ (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons​ Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally. 

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top. 

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles. 

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers. 

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.” 

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.” 

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam. 

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest. 

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day. 

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster. 

Another day, another play. 

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards. 

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts. 

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight. 

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.” 

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.” 

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand. 

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you. 

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.” 

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms. 

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.” 

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture. 

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!” 

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner. 

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.” 

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.” 

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them. 

“Not everything is about being physical.” 

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off. 

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual. 

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!” 

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!” 

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck. 

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him. 

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl. 

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.” 

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?” 

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind. 

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig. 

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view. 

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash. 

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit. 

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.” 

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile. 

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.” 

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying. 

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell. 

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples. 

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you. 

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things. 

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up. 

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.  

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself. 

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended. 

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside. 

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him. 

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.” 

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night. 

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party. 

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face. 

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute. 

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.” 

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.” 

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.” 

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops. 

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness. 

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him. 

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words. 

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.” 

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling. 

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution. 

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips. 

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural. 

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok. 

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.” 

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck. 

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning. 

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team. 

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level. 

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on. 

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch. 

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.” 

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water. 

“Titty-twisters.” 

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him. 

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...” 

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!” 

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.” 

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming. 

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild. 

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around. 

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually. 

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck. 

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice. 

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass. 

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown. 

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus. 

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!” 

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest. 

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.” 

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.” 

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi. 

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile. 

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face. 

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.” 

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.” 

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.” 

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss. 

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes. 

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.” 

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.” 

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length. 

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers. 

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home. 

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night. 

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth. 

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind. 

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat. 

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky. 

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake. 

“I’m sorry I woke you.” 

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state. 

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks. 

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke. 

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system. 

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.” 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear. 

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?” 

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.” 

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools. 

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.” 

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.” 

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.” 

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!” 

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter. 

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin. 

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work. 

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making. 

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most. 

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better. 

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares. 

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on. 

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you. 

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?” 

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.” 

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.” 

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end. 

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter. 

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper. 

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him. 

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well. 

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game. 

And it was working. 

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…” 

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it. 

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?” 

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands. 

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area. 

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net. 

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court. 

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered. 

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead. 

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage. 

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding. 

“Guess I deserve that, huh?” 

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies. 

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable. 

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[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 5

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6269 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Aftercare / Awkwardness … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You: Sup doc, got home safely?

[You sent an attachment]

I chuckled for a second, making myself laugh at the picture of the crazy scientist from Back to the Future I had sent. Then when I looked at it more than five seconds, I just regretted it. “I should have flirted. I should have asked him if he was free soon. But I did that. Wow.” Gathering my stuff, I was expecting him to be asleep but received an answer in no time.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: I’ll admit it’s creative real first text. But don’t send me that shit again, I’m not an old man.

You: Hey, it’s hilarious. You mad because you asked me to call you doc and now you regret it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I just hope you won’t see that in your head when you’ll think of me, it can easily become a turn off, I think.

You: Damn, what if I’m into older men?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Lucky for you I’m older, then. Why are you still awake?

Trafalgar Law 😷: You should sleep, it’s late and you seemed tensed the entire evening.

You: You’re worried about me? How cute, I thought you were just looking to dick me down.

You: But I’m going to sleep soon, don’t worry hot stuff, I was just showering before bed.

You: Who knows, maybe I’ll dream of you 😉

 I read my message over, and over and as I saw him type and stop a few times I was quick to send another one.

 You: Yeah, ignore that. I’m tired, I’m not pushy promised. But you should sleep too, beauty sleep and all.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Depending on the kind of dreams you’re having, I’ll gladly join you.

Trafalgar Law 😷: You’re cute. I’ll sleep in a few. I still have some things to do, I’ll be sure to send you a text in the morning to ask you what you dreamed of.

You: Right, bold of you to assume I remember my dream. And that I’d share them with you.

You: But please go to bed, it’s getting super late.

[Trafalgar Law 😷sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m in bed, don’t worry.

 It was stupid, but I did laugh. He was sitting against his pillows, the simple black bed panel behind him. His hair was a lot messier than usual, but he did not look sleepy one bit. And he was still wearing his dress shirt, which clearly was in no way a pajama.

 You: Funny. You’re a funny guy Trafalgar Law, wow. You’re lucky you’re hot

You: You’re still fully dressed, that’s not going to sleep to me.

Trafalgar Law 😷: If you want to see me naked so bad, you have to work for it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I did say I’d enjoy you on your knees, it seems like a good place to start. But, all in due time, right?

 Chuckling at his text, I bid him a good night without replying to his innuendo which was more than an innuendo, really. Hopefully, an unspoken promise of a goodtime. I left the bathroom feeling a bit funny inside and put the toy away before sitting back on the bed. I was wearing a large shirt so that I could show my legs if the HandSurgeon asked and sat with my legs crossed on the bed before typing.

 Edelweiss: Back!

HandSurgeon: Your lap is pretty red; how does it feel?

Edelweiss: it’s alright, a bit sore but I like it, it reminds me of yeah… the discipline so yeah, it’s ok

HandSurgeon: Cute, you enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe you could take more next time if you feel like it.

HandSurgeon: But it’d mean you’d have disobeyed, which you won’t do. Correct?

Edelweiss: yes, I won’t. Sorry…

HandSurgeon: It’s alright, doll.

HandSurgeon: Is there something you enjoyed more this session? Or did not at all?

 Trying to remember the things he had said during the session, I was going to tell him that everything was good until I remembered that small thing he said, that I did not particularly enjoy. I didn’t know if he was going to tell me to just get on with it and try to enjoy it or anything but trusting he wouldn’t get mad I wrote down.

 Edelweiss: I really enjoyed your voice… that’s for sure but I didn’t enjoy being called a bitch in heat?

Edelweiss: it was alright right now though, but I don’t know, I didn’t vibe.

Edelweiss: sorry if you’re more of a degrader than praiser

HandSurgeon: I am sorry, I am indeed more used to be a bit rougher with my partner. I’ll be more careful next time, don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something I do.

HandSurgeon: This is an exchange, we’re both in to enjoy it and have fun. And while I usually degrade, I am very much enjoying telling you how good you are. Even more so seeing how well you react.

HandSurgeon: You did good telling me your color, very good.

HandSurgeon: I believe edging was not in your list, but how did you enjoy it?

Edelweiss: soooo frustrating! And embarrassing to beg alright? But in a good way I guess… a very good way

 Pondering a bit more, I was curious. If we were giving feedbacks and asking questions, I could give it a go.

 Edelweiss: were you annoyed? That I touched myself.

HandSurgeon: Yes. I was. If I had you next to me, I would have brought you to my bed. I would have had you kneeling in the center, with that egg still inside you. The had you stripped down naked and would have looked at you. If you had moved, I’d strike you down. Simple.

HandSurgeon: You’d be begging in no time, really.

Edelweiss: it does sound kinda interesting though

Edelweiss: I’d definitely be up to it if you’d enjoy it

HandSurgeon: I’m sure you’d take it like very well, adding a blindfold to the mix would be even better.

HandSurgeon: You wouldn’t know when I’d strike. Jumping on the bed at the littlest touch. Goosebumps all over that pretty body of yours.

HandSurgeon: Running the tip of my whip over your skin. Barely grazing it. Then gripping the back of your neck and sliding my fingers through your hair. Pulling your head back to see that needy face of yours.

 I wanted to read more of him, see what else he’d do to me. I wanted to do something again. While my sex was sore, I could also feel the throbbing coming back and fuck was I ready to ask him if he had time to do it again. My body must have been moving on the screen, since I saw the new message from the dom.

 HandSurgeon: Stop fidgeting. There won’t be another session tonight, doll. I have to finish working, and you…

HandSurgeon: Well, you need to eat something and drink some water. Go get some food. We can hang up if you want, or you can leave the camera on. I would not mind the little motivation of seeing my girl on the screen.

Edelweiss: I won’t stay long, I have classes tomorrow. Lemme grab some food, I’ll be right there!

Edelweiss: but admit it, you just want to make sure I eat and drink 👀

HandSurgeon: I do indeed. Now, go.

 We then spent around 20 minutes on the call. I stayed with my camera on, still making sure he could not see my face, and ate up. He would reply a bit more slowly than during our session, since he was working, but when he did it was a lot lighter than usual. We talked of our lives, previous partners, preferences but it quickly turned to other topics. TV shows we enjoyed or had in common, hobbies, pets.

 I learnt he liked to sketch, mostly people, he never did art school and never wanted to but loved the human anatomy. He said he found it fascinating. I felt flattered when he suggested we find some free time so that he could draw me. I told him I’d think about it, then we changed topics but kept off the more personal ones, such as family, school and city. The less we knew, the better. It was weird, getting to know him after I had let him do as he pleased with me. But doing so made it more interesting for some reason.

 I did not feel anything much for the man, but I enjoyed his company a lot. I had no plan of meeting him at all, and if I ever found someone, I’d probably stop talking to him, which is something we both agreed on. This was just to get off, this was simply to both find that pleasure of having the power dynamic in play. It was interesting, and I never thought I’d be doing this but here I was, having hung up on a stranger I should call my dom. Here I was, exhausted after masturbating for him. Following each of his instruction.

 Having had a taste of that side I had never ventured on, I realized I liked it a lot and I could see myself doing it more from time to time. Maybe not all the time, but in bed it was so intriguing.

 I surprised myself as I laid under my covers, slowly drifting to sleep, when a thought crossed my mind, I wonder if Law would do that… I shook the thought away, but it came back just as strong, I was curious. He would look at me with the same look he gave me all night, intrigued and yet clearly expecting all those reactions of me. Knowing what he was doing, knowing the effect he had on me. Whatever I’d say, he wouldn’t be surprised, as if he could read me. He’d ask me those same questions he did that night, trying to get me riled up and I would let him. Would I imagine him as that man from online?

 Would I secretly be hoping he would be that good? Would I let him do as he pleased with me? Was I even going to go on a date with him? This last question had an answer already, we both hardly had any free time. I don’t believe we had the same schedule either, it’d be too hard. But I’d entertain the idea, it was fun. I was slightly excited if it did happen, after all he was attractive. And I could use the kind of fun he was suggesting, considering all the stress we must both be under.

 Turning in bed, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and texted Law.

 You: You better be asleep old doc, because I am hitting the sac. And ignoring your last text at the same time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Shall I take that as a “no”?

You: Definitely not, but I want to know if your personality is as hot as your face, first.

You: For scientific purposes

Trafalgar Law 😷: Luckily, I did pretty well in sciences. I’ll help with your research then.

You: That means I can call you partner? Pardner 🤠 in research of a fun time

Trafalgar Law 😷: Partner of fun, if you want. Pardner, no.

You: Dagnabbit, sad cowboy noise.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I think you need sleep, partner.

You: I definitely do, good night pardner. You should sleep too, you looked fucking tired tonight.

[Trafalgar Law 😷 sent an attachment]

You: it’s pitch black?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Because I’m trying to sleep, and you keep messaging me.

You: no one’s forcing you to answer 😏 but good night pardner

Trafalgar Law 😷: Good night

 I did fall asleep soon after. It was a miracle I managed to keep the conversation that long considering how tired I was and yet I was able to exchange, albeit embarrassingly, with the hot guy. I did not know why I had sent him a message- who am I kidding I know why I did that. Not only was I in that post-orgasm daze but also, this little voice in my head kept considering him as a potential something.

 That something was yet to be determined, booty call? Romantic partner? Sex friend? I did not know yet, the only way to find out was that date. And perhaps, if it went well enough, the after-date part. Which I was excited about, maybe more than the date part.

 This time I did not dream of the HandSurgeon, I did however have a dream about Trafalgar Law. It was not as hot as the one I had the night before… But it was something…

 In that dream, I had called him out of boredom while working on some stuff, and he had picked up mildly annoyed. But even though he was annoyed, he kept me on the line while making his way to his office and closed the door behind him.

 Then the mood changed, the ambiance too, the lights got slightly darker and suddenly I found myself in his office. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed across his chest and seemingly expectant. I saw myself approach him with determination, I was but a spectator to that whole scene. I stopped right in front of him and let him grab my hands before he pulled them behind his back and turned me around so that I was now the one against the desk.

 The view changed and I could see him from up close now, he was looking down at me with a smug smile. I saw his lips moving but could not comprehend what he was saying. His tattooed hand travelled to my neck, gently brushing his thumb over it before grabbing my jaw gently. He spoke again and while I did not know what he said, I felt nervous, and slightly afraid.

 I tried to ask him to repeat, and maybe I did but I could not hear myself. He leaned forward and let his other hand graze the skin under my shirt before whispering. “Edelweiss… my sweet and pretty toy. So good for me.” I let my head fall back in pleasure from his touches but the constant feeling of confusion and fear only grew. I tried to understand why I was feeling like that, among the joy I felt upon hearing his word. Then it clicked.

 He doesn’t know about Edelweiss- he’s not that man, he shouldn’t know.

 Now I’m in my bed. Looking at a screen, I can see someone on that screen, but I can’t see it really. Then I understand who it is, HandSurgeon, but this time it’s Trafalgar Law. “You want us to be the same.”

 “You wish I was real, you’re so desperate for this to happen with me, with him, we’re the same to you, Edelweiss. You should think, wake up, realize that you’re making a mistake, wake up, we can’t be the same, wake up, you just want it so bad-“

 “Wake up!” I was startled awake by Nami, who was looking at me angrily, already fully dressed. “Jesus, did last night tire you that bad?” How could she know what I had done last night? She wasn’t even home- Trying to come up with anything, I was too sleepy to be embarrassed, then she spoke and cleared my mind. “You know, if I had known socializing with Traffy would tired you that much, I would have brought him over a lot sooner. Maybe you’d finally catch some real sleep.” She explained as she kept her gaze on my, probably, sleep-marks adorned face.

 Sighing, she pulled the covers off my form without a second thoughts when I was unresponsive to her words. “This time you have more than 5 minutes to get ready but move your ass or I’ll leave you there. Come on, hurry.”  She stopped by the door and made a compassionate face, “By the way, don’t worry, he exhausts me too. It’s the smug face and the condescending attitude that just-“ she made a sounds with her tongue against her teeth, “it ticks me off, you know?” She was gone right after.

 Looking at the doorway longer than I wanted to, I started drifting off to sleep when I was startled awake once more. My phone was ringing, and I was very much aware it was not my alarm. Stretching my arm to the bed table, I grabbed my phone and was surprised when I read the screen and saw it was Trafalgar Law. I picked up in confusion, “What do you want?” With the sleepiness and the confusion, my tone ended up being a bit more aggressive than I expected.

 “How about you start with good morning?” I heard him chuckle, he was probably proud of that too. Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow and spoke again, “Good morning, do you need something?” I sighed and pulled my covers back on my form, hearing the blinker of his car in the background I guessed he was driving and was paying more attention to the road.

 “Good morning, did I perhaps wake you up?” He asked rhetorically but I could hear the smile on his lips. All I did was hum in return, still waiting for the reason he called me. “I’m free this Thursday, how does it sound for those… research?” He seemed reticent saying it, probably rolling his eyes at how stupid it sounded. Laughing in my throat in return, it was not charming but the way he said it made it too funny for my dazed state. “Too shy to call it a date? I need to check my schedule; I don’t know if I’m free.” Thinking he’d hang up, I instead heard him talk to someone before talking to me again.

 “Then go ahead and check, I’ll wait.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rummaged through something while I checked on my phone, mumbling. “Can’t you let a girl sleep? Don’t you have a work to get to?” I opened the calendar but kept grumbling while doing so, “You’re lucky I’m not hanging up to go back to sleep.” While checking my schedule, I double checked if there was a time I could be free on Thursday and heard Law scoff.

 He huffed a laugh, “I think you’d have hung up by now if you did not want to talk to me, I don’t think it’s luck, but interest.” Then a sigh as he got a bit more serious, “Just answer the question, I have to get going.”

 Scoffing, I brought the phone back to my ear, “You’re just a pretty face for now, Doc. Don’t bet on interest just yet. Now, I’m free around 2 pm that day, if that’s cool with you. But add like half an hour or so, it gives me time to get back home.”

 “Give me the address of your campus, I’ll come and get you there.” I heard the sound of the car door being slammed closed in the background, and the rustle of a bag. “I’m not about to refuse a car ride, it’s a bit odd but thank you!” I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling excited for my plans on Thursday. “Don’t expect me to be dressed all chic though, if I have classes in the morning, it’ll be comfortable and only slightly fashion.” I said lightly as I made my way to my wardrobe to start getting dressed for the day.

 “Give me a moment.” I heard the phone being moved a bit, a few muffled voices greeting the man, footsteps echoing on the ground accompanied by the hubbub of phones ringing, beeping sounds and people talking. While waiting, I was able to get dressed and go back to my desk to prepare my stuff. After a few minutes, I finally heard him. “You were talking about your clothes, to be honest as long as it’s easy to remove, we’re good.” He said smoothly, I could hear the smirk, the smugness in his voice.

 I simply looked at the phone with surprise and pleasantness. That was interesting to say the least, and I was enjoying it. “You’re not saying anything, I’m assuming you agree. Good, then I’ll see you on Thursday? Don’t be afraid to send me pictures if you’re curious about what clothes to wear, I’d gladly help you pick.” I had to stand my ground, he was too smooth. Too much, too flirty, too… familiar…?

 “Just for that, I’ll wear the most intricate clothes I have. Make it worth your while, you know?” While his laugh was beautiful, it was also condescending. I kept having mixt feelings about the man. “Well, if I am in a hurry, know that I am very skilled with sharp tools, and I’d have no shame in tearing your pretty clothes apart.” The sound of the creaking chair in the background made me think he was probably leaning back on his chair. A quick thought crossed my mind, of going up to him and sitting on his lap and seeing what he’d do, but I shoved that thought away.

 Instead, I huffed in response and threw my bag over my shoulder. I tried to come up with a witty reply, making lame sounds with my mouth, but I had no matching energy. Even less this early in the morning. “Alright, sure, you win. I was not going to wear anything intricate anyway, even I’m too lazy for that. Casual it is, so don’t go looking all professional on me, please. I’ll feel off.”

 “Put it on my desk, I’ll be there in a few- it’s an important call, I’m sure he can wait five more minutes… He doesn’t have a choice, tell him to wait… Intern or not you can tell him to wait, how else do you expect to be taken seriously? …  Well, tell him I am the one who said that, then, Tony... Right, now go- And close the door behind.” I felt bad eavesdropping like that, it wasn’t a conversation I was meant to hear but it did not seem like any important information had been shared either. Except the fact that he said this was an important call when it clearly was not. It sent pride to my chest.

 Walking to the kitchen, I made a motion with my index to my lips to Robin and Nami when they started talking a bit too loud. I pointed at the phone, then wiggled my fingers before drawing an invisible circle on the back of my hand. I tried very hard to make them understand it was Law, but they seemed confused. Instead, I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear and spelled Law with both of my hands. This time they understood, I knew it from the huge grin on their face.

 “We got interrupted, sorry about that. If you feel intimated by a professional look, I guess we’ll have to drop by my place before going on that date. Do tell me if you’d rather I keep the medical coat-“ Cutting him off, I needed to set things straight. “Hey, I never said that was my cup of tea, okay? And I’m not intimidated, I’m sure you’re rocking the look- “ I never sighed more loudly than at this very moment when Nami snatched the phone from my hand, and said, “Alright asshole, time’s up, you’ve had time to work your charm… no I’m not doing that”

 Robin butted in next to the microphone and said, “She’s all flustered, Traffy, good work!” I went to grab it back from the ginger’s hands but the stepped back and exchanged a few words with Law before handing me my phone back with a bright smile. Bringing it back to my ear, I rushed back to the corridor to avoid them eavesdropping more than they did in the kitchen.

 “Sorry about them- for your outfit, wear whatever you want. I truly have no say in what you’re going to wear, plus you’ll look hot with whatever you pick so, it’s a win-win.” I quickly said, earning a laugh from the man on the other side. “I’d love to see your face right now, Robin did say you were flustered. Guess we’ll have to wait until Thursday.” He hummed, his tone having some finality to it. I knew it was my cue to hang up.

 “I wasn’t flustered, I- at best embarrassed- no wait that sounds worst doesn’t it? Anyway, see you on Thursday! Have fun at work, bye.” I waited until he bid me goodbye before hanging up. As I put my phone away, I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting my head hit the wall. “Are you okay?” Robin’s soft voice reached my ears, she was making her way towards me with a slight smile. Probably feeling a bit bad for going along Nami’s childish attitude only moments ago.

 Humming, I gave her a nod. But the words that followed were not matching the actions. “He’s like, very hot. And I really want to fuck him, right? But he’s also pretty funny, and good at flirting?”

Squinting her eyes, Robin asked, “Is that a question… or?”

“No, no, it’s facts and it confuses me! I was ready to just, hook up, but he could be more- I don’t know maybe I’m desperate.” I simply shrugged, leaving a silence between the black-haired woman and me.

 Looking up at her, she seemed to be thinking. Then she smiled, she was always the one with good advice but also a helpless romantic. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? You don’t need to worry too much, that date of yours will help you see if you’re really interested in him or not! If not, you’ll have great sex- if yes, you’ll still have great sex, and another date.” I groaned in reply, running a hand through my hair before giving her a short nod.

 “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just- live my life until then, I have other things to do than think of a man. By the way are you home tonight?” I asked her as we walked back to the kitchen where Nami was nowhere to be found, there was simply a piece of paper with the words ‘bring your ass to the car’.

 Chuckling lightly, Robin shook her head. “I have to stay late at the library. Then Franky agreed to let me stay at his place, since it’s closer.” We talked a bit as we made our way to the door, where she wave me goodbye before closing the door gently behind me.

 When I was back in the car, Nami had one of her earbuds on and was talking more gently than she’d usually talk to someone. Which means she was talking to Vivi. I did not interrupt and instead grabbed my phone and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

 HandSurgeon: Are you feeling better? Don’t forget to stay hydrated, I’ll be a bit busy this week, but I can find time if you’d like.

Edelweiss: shit, just saw your message! Sorry, crazy morning. I am definitely sore, but it’s good, I can move so there’s that!

Edelweiss: Also, I might be a bit away from Wednesday to Friday, I am seeing someone and knowing how our session leave me pretty sore, I’d rather you know…

Edelweiss: be in good shape

Edelweiss: for a good fun

Edelweiss: a good fuck

 This time, I did not have a prompt reply. I put my phone away and it’s only halfway through my day, while I was working on something at the library, that I received a reply from him. I’ll admit, I had been expectant the entire morning for an answer. I had been deep in textbooks for so long, I was craving for any sort of interaction, from anyone. Which explained the speed at which I unlocked my phone to see the text from HandSurgeon, and even one from Trafalgar Law.

 I hesitate for a moment, then opened discord.

 HandSurgeon: It’s fine, you are allowed to have a life you know. Simply tell me if you want to stop this, or not, you know… if your someone is not the one and you still need a good fuck.

HandSurgeon: I will also be busy on Thursday, I’ll try to send you a text if I get some free time.

HandSurgeon: I just finished a long meeting, would you be up for a fun game?

 I stared at his messages, feeling a bit excited suddenly. But knowing myself, I would say yes, so I had to answer to Law first before spending my time sexting the stranger.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m sorry we had to cut our conversation short, how was class? I have a bit of free time, if you’d like to talk about our research meeting.

You: That’s actually pretty cute, thought you were just a horny piece of meat but damn, you surprise me.

You: I am still on campus, drowning in work. I’d love to talk, but I need to focus, text me later? 🤠

 Going back on discord, I felt strange. I wanted to say yes, to play his game, but it felt wrong for some reason. I was double texting and it felt like I was cheating on a man I was not even dating. I ignored the thought and typed back.

 Edelweiss: I kinda wanna know, but also really need to get back to work. So, I’ll have to decline.

Edelweiss: But I’m curious, what was the game?

HandSurgeon: It’s quite alright, I was going to suggest you’d take a pretty picture for me no matter who was around. But you are busy, so I’ll leave you be. Focus on your work. I’ll talk to you later.

HandSurgeon: But for ‘emotional support’, I’ll give you this:

HandSurgeon : [sent an attachment]

 I snorted at his words, and smiled when he sent me a picture of his gloved hand gripping the wheel of his car tightly. I did comment on wearing gloves while driving, even though they were not medical gloves and it had some charm, it was very movie-like. And suspicious.

 After that, I put my phone down and got lost in work. I did not even see time fly by, what informed me that it was indeed a few hours later than I thought, was the grumbling of my stomach. “I think it’s time to call it a day.” I mumbled while packing everything up. With the books put back where they belonged and my laptop tucked away, I made my way outside and was walking through the parking lot when I saw a familiar mop of hair making its way towards me.

 I suddenly felt self-conscious and straightened my back before meeting his gaze and frowning in confusion. “Are you stalking me?” I patted my pockets in emphasis, before saying “Did you put a chip somewhere, or-“ Law shook his head as if I was being crazy. “Bro, it’s super super sus that you’re at my campus when I never gave you the address-“

“I asked Robin. I was going to ask Nami but she wouldn’t have given me anything.” He explained as if it was obvious.

 Looking around, I opened my mouth and closes it a few times. It was a bit awkward. “Why are you here, then?” I asked, still confused, my eyes squint in suspicion.

“Right- give me a moment.” He turned around and took a few long strides to get to his car and get something from the passenger seat before coming back. Even though his steps were hurried, there was still this elegance to it that I could not ignore.

 “I am very familiar with long hours of studying, so here’s a drink and some food. I used to skip meals, because I’d get too much into it. Don’t do that, eat.” While what he said seemed caring, he was not smiling or anything. But the gesture was so sweet I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very nice of you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear jokingly in faux-shyness before going back to a normal demeanor. “But I was going home. I was done for the day, here,” I handed it back to him before trying to find my wallet in my bag. “Let me, just- how much do I owe you?”

 He stopped me from rummaging through my back and ruffled my hair before handing me the drink and food back. “Nothing, I was passing by. Now I am sure to not get lost when I’ll come and get you on Thursday.” He winked, then looked back at his watch a moment. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before looking up at me. “Would you like me to drop you off at your house? I have a bit of time before going back to work.” He asked kindly, showing me his keys as if trying to coo me.

 “Maybe you should go eat too? I’ll take the bus, it’s alright.” Smiling, the man pointed at his car with a certain pride. “Oh don’t worry, I got myself something too. It could be our first lunch date, you are so bent on traditions, so why not lunch?”

 I felt my cheeks heat up and pushed him playfully, careful not to spill the drink I had in my hand. “I’m not bent on traditions, I just barely know you, doc.” I looked to the side and shrugged before walking past him, “Let’s get lunch.” I said over my shoulder. I heard the man laugh in the back, then the jingle of keys.

 I tried to open the door but found it locked. I stated the obvious, “I can’t get in if it’s locked.” I was about to complain more, when he leaned over his side of the car and grinned. “Ask politely, and I’ll let you in.” I hated him, but the smile on my face was a betrayal of how I really felt. He was a little shit, but it was still fun. Rolling my eyes, I mimicked his action and rested my arms on the roof of the car, “Could you please unlock the car, doc?” “Good girl, was it that hard?”

 I turned my head towards him so fast I may have pulled a muscle in my neck, but the way he said it made it a lot more than just a nickname. He was testing the waters for something, and I had given him the exact reaction he wanted. “What, do I call you daddy now?” I said sarcastically while getting inside the car and buckling my seatbelt while he held everything before placing them back on my lap.

 “Not my thing, but I’m sure we’ll get to that conversation later.” He smirked as he put something in the glove box before closing it back and meeting my intense gaze as he leaned back on his seat. I was observing each and everyone of his action, feeling out of place in his car. I had met the man last night, but for some reason he felt familiar. Perhaps it was his aura, perhaps he was just that reassuring. No, clearly not, he looks threatening… “Something on your mind? I don’t know if you’re looking at me like you want kill me or fuck me,” Extending his hand towards me, he placed his index under my chin and lifted it, I quickly grabbed his hand like last time to stop him.

 “Maybe both, maybe none-“ With a short smile, he interrupted me, “Don’t be like that, I’ll ask differently. Are you uncomfortable? I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m trying to take it slow…ish.” He admitted. I could see on his face he was feeling just as sheepish as I was. Clasping my hands on my lap I chuckled nervously, “I’m good, I was just…. Observing. You’re doing good, simply put…” I trailed off and met his gaze with a playful grin, “Ye’re a looker pardner,” I then tipped my non-existent hat, which made him laugh genuinely.

 “You were just in awe?” He asked a bit surprised, hiding his bashfulness behind a laugh. “Exactly, take the compliment and don’t mention it again. Now drive, or you’ll get back late at work.” I huffed, looking at the window with warm cheeks. I felt a pull at my hand and looked at it confused, “I’d love to, but you’re still holding my hand.” I quickly let go and threw his hand back at him, “It was to make sure you weren’t going to do the whole,” Making a gesture with my hands in the air, wiggling my fingers, I continued, “Chin thing again.”

 Even though he agreed, only giving me a curt nod along with a “Right.”, I could see the smile on his face as he started the car. Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I matched his smile discretely as I looked back at the road.

 The volume of the music wasn’t loud, I could hear the fabric of his coat as he maneuvered, the blinkers, my own nervous heartbeat. There was no reason for me to feel so nervous, we were just going to eat lunch then go our separate way. To try to calm down, I rummaged through my brain for topics to talk about, small talks was fun in social events but in one on one, it was a fucking disaster.

 Do you have any pets? Do you like cats? Maybe talk about his job? How long did he study? Or funny topics, less social, more creative? Politics is off the table, it’s not that great of a first date conversation. What’s your favourite colour? What part of your body to your prefer-

 I blurted out a question to try to fill the silence. And fuck did I regret it, I shouldn’t be allowed to speak when in that state, but it was too late. “So… what’s your favourite body part?” Wait, no, fuck, not…

[Part 6]

[quillsareswords]

And Arnold Makes Four

The next part of Blurb #18, because it got surprisingly great feedback! Thank you all so much! You don't necessarily need to read 18, but I'd recommend it, just to get your bearings.

Interested in a Polyamorus Taglist? Comment here!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Jon did not keep his promise. When two hours had passed and you were still snoring next to Damian as he reclined on both of you, he considered waking you because goddamn it he wanted a slushee, but decided against it.

Too many night had you both sat up until the sun shone. The least he could do was let you rest.

Besides—he was pretty sure one of you would try to punch him if he tried.

So, he laid contently against your legs, wasting most of the day between his Switch and your television.

Damian is the first one awake. He blinks hard twice, because the sun is shining directly through the window and straight into his eyes (likely what woke him up, he decides). You're the first thing he sees. You probably got a little too warm snuggled so close to him, so you've pulled back so he can see your whole face. Subconsciously, he tracks your breathing for a moment.

Then he's looking past you, for his other partner. One of you are usually in the middle, because Jon gets too hot laying between you. Jon's not there. Damian reminds himself that he's in your house and that there's realistically no reason to worry, before the niggling of panic worms it's way into his mind.

The weight against his shins shifts. He sits part way up, careful not to jostle you too much in the process.

Jon turns away from your TV and smiles brightly. "I wondered when you'd wake up," he says, quietly.

Your eyebrows furrow as you groan.

Damian rolls his upper half so he can properly himself up with his elbows. "Why didn't you wake us? It's been well over two hours," Damian asks, inclining his head towards the window, where it's obviously nearly sunset.

Jon shrugs, shifts his weight so Damian can roll completely over. "You seemed like you needed it, so . . ."

Damian nods slowly. He feels a little bad, wondering why his internal alarm clock didn't have him up within an hour. Probably you.

You mumble something about the light before your eyes crack open with a glare. You'd been half awake, listening to the conversation. "What time is it?"

"Sunset," Damian sighs, crawling over you to get off the bed. "Sunshine here didn't wake us up."

Jon's cheeks bloom pink at the endearment, but he pretends they don't. "You looked like you needed sleep," he defends, flopping back down in his boyfriend's place.

You realize he's already gotten dressed, while you're still in sleep shorts and a ratty tank top. You also realize that Damian is fishing clothes out of his duffel, which was slung down beside Jon's bulging backpack yesterday afternoon.

You don't know why they insist on bringing so much every time they come to stay, considering the bottom two drawers of your dresser are respectively theirs. You consider this silently as you roll out of bed to pull on jeans and your Converse.

By the time you grab your longboard and bid your parents goodbye, the sky is orange and pink and white and it's brilliant.

Jon's camera is in your backpack, your speaker on a strap slung across his body while you search for their designated playlist.

Damian's pennyboard hits the ground first, then your longboard, then Jon's skateboard. Down your suburban driveway you cruise, then down the cul-de-sac and onto the sidewalk running alongside the slow traffic of the road.

The Travel Center sign glows orange and red as you roll forward, Vance Joy booming from Jon's hip. The sky only gets prettier, so Jon asks for his camera once you stop.

When you reach the parking lot, you slide your heel along the cement to lose your momentum, simultaneously slinging your backpack down to the crook of one arm to get the camera.

You hand it to him when he stops beside you, then you pop the nose of your board and pause your music.

"What are you getting?" Jon asks, as you pass him, one arm outstretched to hold the glass door open for you, while Damian swings the other side of the door open for himself.

"Coca Cola, obviously," you hum, tucking your board under one arm and reshouldering the straps of your bag. "I'll cover snacks and whatnot if one of you will pay for the bracelets at the fair."

The county fair is finally back for the beginning of summer in your home town, so the three of you have decided to go, since the fairgrounds are so close to the pier anyway.

Damian nods. "I'll pay for them." He takes a small cup size from the stack as the three of you round the corner of the back isle.

"I'll pay for the slushees," Jon decides, taking a large.

"Good for you," you smile, filling your medium with the light brown, thinly ground ice from the rolling machine.

Jon flicks your nose as he pumps his large full if blue-burrrry first, then cherry.

Damian snaps a boring old flat lid on the top of his cup before he saunters off in search of a snack to take for the road.

You're the next one done, but because you have a soul, you take a dome lid and fill your cup past the brim.

You roam the isles for a few minutes, despite already knowing where everything, just like every weekend. You pick up a bag of cheddar Combos, a miniature tube of original Pringles, and a Hershey bar.

You meet your boys by the checkout, where the same tired-looking woman smiles at you fondly. Just like every weekend.

Damian sets down a bag of M&Ms, while Jon is still juggling four bags of candy, a skateboard, and a multicolored slushee which is oozing out from the top of the dome lid, because—like every weekend—he's overfilled it.

While you fish out some bills from the wallet in your backpack, Damian finally steps in and takes the slushee from him so he can slap down his pack of Rainbow Belts, a bag of Skittles, a Hershey Cookies and Cream bar, a bag of Trolli gummy worms, a bag of miniature Twix bars, and a blue Gatorade onto the counter.

You laugh, because it's a little bit like a clown car, the way he piles it all on the counter. Damian sighs, staring at Jon with a healthy mix of impression, surprise, and adoration.

Sheepishly, Jon takes his slushee back from his boyfriend and mumbles, "The slushees are separate."

The middle-aged woman withholds a laugh at the whole thing, even though this is a very regular occurrence, while she slides all the items across the scanner.

A few minutes later, the three of you pause in the parking lot to cram everything into your backpack. While Damian is helping you, Jon stands at the very edge of the sidewalk, snapping pictures of the gorgeous sunset and the colors it paints the sky.

Soon enough, you're on your way again. The pier isn't too far from your house—maybe three miles, not counting the backtracking you have to do from the Travel Center. Its also not used often unless there's some big event, like a holiday or something at the fairgrounds, which are a quick jaunt up a dirt path through a patch of woods.

It's been a favorite spot of yours, ever since you were old enough for your parents to let you loose. You brought the boys out last summer, only about a month after forming the three way relationship you're so comfortable in. Since then, it's been a frequent for you three, when the weather's nice.

It isn't an ocean pier, by the way. It's on a lake, which is partly owned by the park on the other side, and partly owned by the same family who's owned the fairgrounds for as long as you can remember. They have a miniature boat race every Spring, and a lantern release every New Year.

You make it to the fairgrounds just about as soon as the sun sinks below the treeline, courtesy of the (mostly) paved road that stretches through the massive unused field and dense woods that divides it from the main road. Mostly, because it was paved so long ago that it was well forgotten in the most recent repaving your small town underwent a year or two ago.

You pop the nose of your board up, shoving the rest of your chocolate bar into your mouth as you step on to the whiterock path leading to the ticket booth, and the rest of the pop-up carnival beyond it.

"Three bracelets, please," Damian requests, holding out a twenty and a ten. Ten bucks for an all-access bracelet that are only valid for twenty-four hours might seem crazy, but it's logistically cheaper and easier than buying X-amount of tickets, and then having to come back for more later.

You hastily strap the paper onto one another's wrists before you scamper off, your eyes set on the Twister, dragging your boys behind you.

You spend most of the night squished between two people in a two-person seat; or throwing things at other things to win more things; or sprawled out in the grass behind or between some booths, chowing down on pre-bought snacks. Jon went off and got an Elephant Ear at some point, so you spent more time sitting in the grass, eating and chatting idly, humorously judging people with Damian while Jon glared on disapprovingly. Still, even he couldn't find anything good to say about the full neon rainbow leopard jumpsuit that fit about six sizes too small in the worst way, other than at least he's creative.

At one point or another, you come across a giant stuffed sloth that's about a foot short of being as tall as you, and you decide on the spot that it is absolutely going home with you. Damian and Jon see the number of points it costs and sigh in unison. You spend about one hundred and sixteen minutes throwing baseballs at far-too-heavy milk bottles, but hey, who's counting?

You do, eventually, win the sloth, with the combined efforts of three super-sidekicks—Jon's super strength, Damian's freakish aim, and your intuitive throwing finally converge on one task, surprisingly.

Hauling your new friend—Arnold, you've dubbed him—on your back, you decide to show your gratitude by putting your knife throwing skills (you're very good at instinctive throwing, because of your flawless intuition) to good use at the dart-and-ballon game.

You leave Arnold in Jon's care (Damian ever so gently told you that he'd leave Arnold to sit in the dirt beside them, not hold him, which offended you deeply), and and your longboard with Damian, before you march over, wad of dollar bills in hand.

You return twenty minutes later, two plush animals in each hand. You proudly bestow a ambiguous black bird to Damian, and a fire engine red marshmallow-esque creature to Jon. You take Arnold in your arms and resituate him to ride piggy back, long boneless arms draped over your shoulders.

Jon giddily grins at his new blob friend, and thanks you, muttering, a little shyly, that you really didn't have to. Damian stares down at the stuffed bird in silence, a smidge of contempt flickering in his eyes. It crosses your mind that he might have preferred something else, but all doubt is erased with his grip on it becomes a little more firm, a bit more protective, and you catch his gaze going soft on it. He offers you a little smile, because he's bad at genuinely accepting and showing appreciation for these kinds of gifts.

And because you know this, you return the gesture to prove that you understand.

Your trio heads for the dirt path through the decently small patch of woods, where a dirt path peeks out like a old man with gentle eyes and a warm smile.

Jon stops right as you reach the mouth of the path. He hands Damian his skateboard. "You go ahead, I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"Where are you going?" Damian asks.

Jon starts walking backwards. "I'm gonna get something. I'll be quick, I promise! Go ahead!"

Damian exchanges a look with you. You shrug, reaching toward his hand and wiggling your fingers.

He locks his fingers with yours, sparing Jon one more look over his shoulder before the two of you set off.

"What do you think he's up to?" you wonder, peering over your shoulder just before the carnival is out of sight. You don't see him, but you imagine him bobbing a weaving through the crowds of half drunk, drunk high, and half asleep people ambling around in the last hours of the festivities for the day.

Damian glances back one more time. "Don't know," he answers. "Can't be anything good, if he wouldn't tell us."

You nod. "Can't be awful, if he wouldn't warn us," you add with a smile.

He laughs. "Can't be amazing if he wouldn't gloat about how amazing his idea is."

You laugh loudly. "You got me there."

You pass the marker for the middle of the path soon after. It's just an old wooden post, marked properly with fading orange tape. Not long after that, you leave the treeline behind.

The pier is old, and a little creaky. The wood is dark with age, warm with sun, and worn with the repeated paths of the residents of your hometown. The group of people is surprisingly small, despite the carnival's large attendance.

Your eyes roam the few couples scattered around the clearing by the water, and the group of friends laughing loudly from borrowed fishing boats further out in the water. Warm summer night air sticks to your skin and fills your lungs the way only it can.

The pair of you find a good spot at the very end of the pier, where the boards are still stable, but boast a concerning number if cracks and splinters. You prop Arnold up behind you, safely away from the water, but he slouches inanimately while he holds Damian's crow and your backpack in his lap.

"We should do this more," you hum, leaning back on your elbows to get a proper look at the mostly clear sky. It's nearly a full moon, and lack of light pollution leaves the stars on display, while the open moonlight reflects beautifully off the tops and sides of passing clouds.

Damian hums in agreement. "That would be nice." His neck cranes to get a good look for himself. "Any constellations?"

"Orion is there," you point to the belt specifically. "And the Dippers are right there."

A beat of silence as you admire the heavens.

"How long do you think until Jon calls us because he's gotten into trouble?"

You laugh. "Fifteen minutes," you bet.

Damian nods. "Sounds right. He's probably getting some kind of food."

"I hope it's something without grease," you groan. "Otherwise I might be sick."

Damian chuckles. "Don't get your hopes up."

As if it was a stage cue, you hear footsteps thumping up the rickity wood planks toward you.

You both turn at the sound of your names. "Look what I got!" Jon howls excitedly.

He's got a giant bag of popcorn and another of cotton candy under one arm, and brandishing a clear plastic bag with the other.

"That better not be a fish," you warn, but the spark in your eyes betrays the implied threat. You sit back up to get a better look.

"It'll be dead in a week," Damian warns, "so don't get too attached."

Jon fakes a pout, stopping beside Arnold. "His name is Jerry and you're being very rude." He drops the bags of snacks among your prize-filled bag and stuffed animals, then drops himself on the other side of you.

"Let me see him," you swipe the bag without permission. You hold it level with your eyes. It stares back boredly. "What are you gonna do with him? Do you have a bowl?"

He smiles sheepishly at you. "I thought your mom might have a vase or something."

You roll your eyes good-naturedly and hold the bag out to Damian to inspect. "I'm sure she does," you assure anyway. "If not, you can borrow a water glass or something."

Damian's eyes light up suddenly, as he eyes the yellow fish. "Your mother has a huge wineglass, doesn't she?"

You grin. "Yes. Yes she does, and you're a genius."

Damian smiles suavely, reaching across you to hand the bag back to Jon. "This isn't new information."

You snort and roll you eyes again, reaching for the cotton candy. "And so modest, too."

Jon tucks one leg under the opposite knee, setting the bag of water in the crook of his knee. "And ugly as a moose."

Damian indignantly rips the bag of cottony sugar from your grasp, leaving you with an offended glare, an agape mouth, and a thick tuft of pink fluff in your hand. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

You giggle over to Jon. "I think he hates us," you loudly whisper.

Jon nods thoughtfully, peering past you as he whispers back, "He's planning to poison us with dinner."

Damian sighs, loudly. "Firstly, poison wouldn't effect you, Jon. Secondly, if I hated either of you, I wouldn't be here."

Jon laughs. "He's got us, Lovely."

You lean on Damian's shoulder. "In more ways than you one."

Your plan works perfectly. Red flushes down his neck, eyes still locked on the horizon.

Jon picks up on it immediately, and hooks an arm around Damian's waist. "Wouldn't you agree, Love?"

He grumbles between the two of you, annoyed and embarrassed and so overwhelmingly in love.

As predicted, he makes a quick effort to switch topics. "How long are we staying?"

You and Jon respect his discomfort with focused public affection and pull away. "Long as we want," you answer, shoving a smaller tuft of pink into your mouth. "Mom just said to be home before two."

Jon nods. "I wanna watch a Disney movie when we get home." You agree.

"Speaking of getting home," Damian peers over his shoulder at the small mountain of prizes, food, and skateboards behind you, "how exactly do you plan on getting Arnold home?"

You eye the four-foot-six sloth and your longboard. Then you turn back to your boys, moonlight casting a gleam in your eyes. "I have absolutely no idea."

[TAGS – @qween-of-trash ]

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| TWO

gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of yuta. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut (let you know), violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,9K

ONE TWO THREE

It had been a week since Donghyuck was working as your personal bodyguard and things were apparently going well. The threats had stopped, but they didn't want to let their guard down in case something happened.

Donghyuck and you had got a little closer since they used to spend quite a lot of time together. One night, you left the office at one o'clock in the morning and after Donghyuck insisted you eat something, you ended up eating at a stall in a street in downtown Seoul.

You took the opportunity to get to know each other a little bit better and Donghyuck told you that he wanted to be a music producer and went to music school, but his father never approved it and had to devote himself to what he did.

On the other hand, you shared that you never thought of becoming a CEO. You always pictured yourself a baker and having a small bakery, but somehow you weren't a great baker. He found it very interesting how the tables turned.

On Wednesday, Donghyuck arrived earlier than normal and you extended your hand and shook his, greeting him, pleased to note how firm and strong his handshake was. Why did a handshake suddenly seem so much more evocative? You had shaken hundreds, thousands, of men’s hands and none, not even your ex-partners, had a touch that brought shivers to your spine like that.

Maybe that day wouldn’t be so bad after all. You thought. 

You had been told that one of your negotiations had been called off and they notified you right after you arrived at their building. What a waste of time.

“Ma’am, I was wondering if we could discuss you using the underground entrance from now on?” Donghyuck inquired.

No, it was still a bad morning. With one question, the attractive bodyguard brought on you wrath and was anything but attractive to you anymore. How many times have you instructed the driver and the staff that you were going to continue to enter the Genesis Intelligence Headquarters. 

And how many times did you need to remind Donghyuck to call you (Y/N), not “Ma’am“?

“I’m late for a meeting,” you snapped. You turned on your shoes and started towards the building.

As irritated as you were, you were still aware of the presence of the well-built Donghyuck a few steps behind you and caught a glimpse of him in the window’s reflection as you entered the building. Hmmm, you sighed. «Even if he does annoy me, he is still lovely to look at.»

In your irritation and your attempt to get back on schedule, you lost sight of Donghyuck for the next ninety minutes. The 9:30 meeting to which you were late did not go well. Again.

As you exited the meeting to take his 10:00 call, Lia approached you. “I’ve confirmed your slot with  Lee Youngjoon for tomorrow, but Nakamoto Yuta wants to see you at 10:45 this morning, instead of 11:30. He insisted.”

You frowned. Yuta? You hadn't heard or seen him in a year and suddenly he wanted a meeting with you?

You glanced at your watch. It was just shy of 10:00. If you were lucky, you could take your call and still make it to 10:45.

“Why?” You demanded.

“I don’t know, but he was very persistent.” Lia came to the response.

“Fine. Make sure to update security on the change in plans,” You instructed Lia. “Thanks, Lia.”

Fifteen minutes later, while in the middle of your 10:00 call, Donghyuck knocked on her door. Oh right, him. He entered your office without waiting for your response. You glared at him as you put your call on hold. 

“Ma’am, we need to be leaving for your meeting if you want to make it on time.”

“I’m afraid you have the time wrong. We have another fifteen minutes and I need to finish this call.”

“No, ma’am. We need to take an alternate route. If we don’t leave now, you’ll be late.”

You continued glaring at Donghyuck. “Why? What’s wrong with our regular route? I could walk there faster than what you’re proposing.”

“I don’t doubt that ma’am, but I would advise against it. It’s all for your safety, ma’am.”

It seemed unlikely that you would win on this one. You ended your call, gathered your things, and followed Donghyuck to the elevators, where he selected the basement level rather than the ground floor. You shook your head and sighed. Once the elevator stopped, Donghycuk led you through to the underground entrance, where your car was waiting.

“Donghyuck, this will be the first and only time you have me use the underground entrance, do you understand?“ Your  tone was scathing. 

Donghyuck nodded in silence and as he held open the car door for you, your hand accidentally brushed against his and you couldn’t help but catch a whiff of his cologne. You froze. For three seconds, the world stopped. You were distracted by how attractive Donghyuck was. You almost didn’t want to move. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, for as long as possible.

Your reverie was broken by the sound of a car horn somewhere else in the garage. You felt a rush of heat flood to your cheeks. You slid down into his seat as Donghyuck closed the car door, hoping that he hadn’t noticed any of this. That behaviour, those reactions, were completely out of character. Even after the car started moving, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

…

“You look as beautiful as usual, sweetheart,” Yuta greeted you planting a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” you told him.

Yuta clicked his tongue, not sure what if he had done something wrong. “Come.” With that, you walked into his office,, leaving the door open. Donghyuck gave you a look and stood right in the door, turning his back on you.

“Since when do you have a dog following you around?” Yuta raised an eyebrow, sitting on his chair, eyeing Donghyuck. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

“He’s my bodyguard, not my dog,” you corrected him and sat in front of him. “And why don't you ask him?

Yuta shook his head. “Maybe he was someone else’s dog before you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Because I missed you.”

“Cut the crap.”

Yuta giggled. “You’re really having a bad day, huh? What happened?”

You sighed and relaxed on the chair. “The guy from Hong Kong called off the negotiation this morning and I was counting with that money for the new software we were going to launch next year. And he fucking called me right when I was outside the building!”

“I warned you about him, sweetie.”

“That’s the last thing I need right now, Yuta,” you glanced at him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he nodded. “What if I invest in it?”

“You?” You looked at him. “Why would you do that? We’re literally direct competition.”

“We could launch it together. Right now your A.I is one of the best in the market, and I’m not gonna lie: I’m a bit jealous,” he admitted. “You combine tasks such as teaching self-driving cars to avoid accidents, assessing damage of a natural disaster, and detecting parking lot usage. This is all done through drone and satellite imagery.”

“Who in hell would've come up with that?” Yuta looked at you. “I can help you penetrate the Japanese market and get even bigger.”

You bite your lip. It’s true, during the last year you did everything to crack the Japanese market but failed and since Yuta’s company was a large and established company there, he could help you.

“You are really willing to negotiate with me?” You asked him.

He nodded. “I’ve known you for many years and I have followed your work. I’m pretty sure Genesis Intelligence could take over Industrial artificial intelligence.”

You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds and stood up walking around his office. “I need to think about it. You’re my friend and I don’t want business to screw things up.”

Yuta laughed and stood next to you placing a hand on your shoulder. “If sex didn’t screw things up neither will this.”

“Oh my, God. Shut up,” you hissed, looking to where Donghyuck was standing. He didn't even seem to move. You looked back at Yuta. “I’m gonna leave.”

Yuta chuckled and caressed your shoulders. “Stay, it’s been so long since we saw each other.”

You squint your eyes looking at him. “I’m not gonna fuck with you in your office.”

“I never said anything about fucking, but if you want me to bend you over my d-” You placed a hand on his mouth to stop him from talking and sighed. 

“I’ll tell my assistant to call you so we can arrange a meeting soon with the rest of the staff,” you told him and grabbed your purse.

“I’m looking forward,” he smirked.

You nodded and started making your way out of the office when he called you. “(Y/N)?”

You turned around. “Yes?”

“Your ass looks incredibly hot today in those dress pants,” he smiled at you.

“Good afternoon, Yuta,” you said leaving his office.

Donghyuck started walking behind you, escorting you and didn’t understand why the comments Yuta made got him upset. Was he your boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend, perhaps? Your lover?

Why did he even care? It wasn't as if he was interested in you. He had a task he must comply with. Just another job. That's what this was supposed to be. He had done it dozens of times, killed someone for money, that is. He'd earned a reputation among others in his trade for being discreet, efficient, and the ability to make it look like an accident. He quite enjoyed it, too. It was an outlet for his creativity and frustration and he had a lot to be frustrated about.

You two were sharing the enclosed, confined space of a gaudy elevator. The metal around you was pristine, without a single smudge to be seen. Directly behind you, it seemed a ceiling to floor mirror was installed over the wall of the elevator... For what reason, Donghyuck sure. He wasn't much of an aestheticist anyway, prefered things to be plain or simple in design.

There was an awkward silence and you cursed Yuta’s building which had 25 floors. The ride was long.

“So… Mr. Nakamoto and you?” Donghyuck broke the silence. You looked at him, frowning. “Right, sorry. It’s none of my business.”

You scratched your forehead and then snickered leaning against the metal wall. “I’m guessing you heard our conversation. Sorry about that.”

“No, please. I apologise. Again, it’s none of my business, ma’am.”

“Yuta and I used to… be really good friends,” you looked at him. “That’s in the past, and it’s even more buried now that we’re gonna be partners. It wouldn't be ethical.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Got it, ma’am.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You need to stop calling me ‘ma’am. I feel like a 50 year old woman.”

“Sorry ma’am, but you don't look anything like a 50 year old woman,” Dongyuck glanced at you.

Your overactive imagination can’t help but bring that off-handed comment to life inside your head. You smiled. "Thank you. So, will you stop calling me that?"

"No."

You sighed. "Please?"

Donghyuck laughed lightly. “You worry too much about that.”

“Yes,” You didn't deny it. “It's strange. You're only 2 years older than me and are ma'aming me everyday.”

Donghyuck smirked at the word you used. “You’re my boss. I’m just being professional.”

Your mouth opened to speak, but the elevator suddenly shook, the lights flicker, and you stumbled. Donghyuck reacted without hesitation, sidestepping to make sure that you fall into his chest instead of to your knees. The emergency light of the elevator turned on, and you two shared a glance at each other.

“Did it break?” A stupid question, you're sure.

Donghyuck hummed, stepping away from you and towards the elevator door before banging a fist against it. He checked the elevator buttons, then leaned back to glance up at the dial above the door - you're stuck between the sixth and fifth floor. Donghyuck pulled out his cellphone and groaned. "I have no signal."

You breathed a couple of times and looked at him. "Am I under attack?  Am I gonna get killed here? Did someone plan this?!"

"Hey, hey," Donghyuck cupped your face with his hands and stared at you. "It's just a shut down. You're okay, nothing will happen to you as long as you're with me."

You nodded and closed your eyes trying to relax. Donghyuck's hands around your face felt like heaven; they were warm and soft. You opened your eyes again just to see a Donghyuck still staring at you. You could drown in that look. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you," you whispered.

Donghyuck let go of your face and you hated the feeling of emptiness he left. 

The bright lights flickered on and made you squint. You clapped your hands together cheerfully, turning to look at the dial over the door that begins to move again. “Oh, thank God!"

“Told you,” Donghyuck smiled at you. “Shall we?”

“Yeah.”

…

Your hands moved from his shoulders to the top button of his shirt. As you slowly unfastened button after button, your piercing eyes met his. Donghyuck thought he might come just from the intensity of your look and the feel of your fingers opening up his shirt. Donghyuck’s fingers grazed across your stomach and you shivered. Your hands moved around to Donghyuck's back, underneath his shirt. You pulled him closer to you, but not close enough that your lower halves touched. In fact, it appeared that he intentionally stopped their lower halves from touching. In one quick movement, you had Donghyuck shirtless. He barely registered when you started kissing his neck and then his chest with soft kisses.  When your hands reached the top of his pants, you slipped them between the fabric and his skin. Grabbing the top of your ass, he finally pulled his lower half in contact with your lower half...

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Donghyuck awoke with a start. His breath erratic, his heart racing. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and what was happening. Donghyuck looked around his room, around his bed. Both were empty, as always. It was a dream. Just a dream. You weren’t there. 

He groaned when realised someone had woken up very ‘pleased’ that morning. Donghyuck ran a hand through his hair and got out of bed walking to the bathroom and taking care of his ‘problem’ and getting ready to go to work.

And that same night, you sat in the venue dressing room where you were about to make a speech, reviewing your notes. Donghyuck stood silent and still by the hallway door. 

Lia entered the room, carrying several cups of coffee and a bag of food. It was about damn time. You had requested the coffee as soon as you got there; what had taken her so long? You had less than ten minutes to down the cup of decaf. 

After having two sips of coffee, the venue manager called you so you could wait backstage since you would be on it in 5 minutes. 

As the presenter made his little speech, you tried to crack your fingers for the third time in the day. You were nervous and Donghyuck noticed it. “If you keep trying to do that you’re gonna end up with no bones to crack for the rest of your life.”

“Huh?” You looked at him and then giggled. “Sorry, it’s just that… I’m nervous.”

“I never thought you were the nervous type when it came to speeches,” he said.

“It’s not about giving the speech, it's about who is here,” you sighed.

“And that is?” Donghyuck raised both eyebrows.

“My father.” You admitted.

“He 's here?” 

You nodded and your eyes went to the crowd looking for him until you spotted him. “Do you see the man with the grey suit and a black tie, surrounded by 4 guards?”

Donghyuck’s eyes slyly followed yours and found the man you were talking about. He knew him from somewhere. He squinted to have a better look of his face and froze when he recognised. There was no way.

“... he technically is my father, but left my mom when I was a newborn and never came back. And 3 years ago he contacted me telling me he’s interested in my business but I have no plans to sell it or make a partnership by any means…”

Donghyuck was aware you were talking to him but he couldn’t stop looking at the man, or your father. Why would he want you dead? So he could take over your business? That was evil. 

“Right?” You looked at him and shook your hand in front of him. “Donghyuck? Are you alright?”

“Yeah… yeah,” he shook his head and gave you a warm smile. “I was just… shocked to know he’s your father.”

“He’s a businessman with relations pretty much everywhere,” you said, “he’s so judgmental of my work but hasn’t even bothered to get to know me better. I guess he’s a natural dick.”

“He is… I mean, you’re great. He should feel lucky to have you, but he doesn’t appreciate that.” He looked at you. “You turned out great without him.”

“That’s what my mom says,” you beamed. “I should relax, what can he do to ruin me? Nothing.”

He gulped. Little did you know.

[marshmallow-phd]

Bottom of the Glass

Genre: Bodyguard!AU, Angst

Pairing: Jinyoung  x Reader

Summary: It’d been almost ten years since you left the life of glitz and cameras behind, never looking back. But someone refused to let go. When danger comes knocking, your father insists on hiring the best to keep you safe. Reluctant, you agree. Park Jinyoung is constantly by your side, but as the stalker gets closer, will he be able to keep you safe without getting too close himself?

Part: 1 I 2

**

This was the kind of life you always should have lived.

Teenage you wouldn’t be able to understand. That girl was too lost in the flashing lights and the glamor of magazine covers to understand the sacrifices that came with that lifestyle. Those things felt trivial: regular school, normal sleeping hours, being in charge of your own image and your daily activities. What was a classroom compared to flying to Paris for Fashion Week and being photographed on the red carpet?

As a child, you were used to being told what to do and how to behave, so it seemed like routine when your handler changed over from your parents to your manager. You understood that doing what you were told kept you on schedule and in work. They say that hindsight is twenty-twenty. An understatement if you’d ever heard one.

The paperwork and awaiting decisions could feel overwhelming at times, but at least you were the one making the decisions. You had a say and you weren’t treated as a money machine. Yes, as someone with employees, you had people depending on you for their paychecks, but the relationship was different. You weren’t being exploited. Rather, you were looked to for guidance. You might not have been the head honcho of the hotel business, but someday you would be. That was a legacy you truly held on to.

“A package arrived for you, Miss.”

You didn’t even bother to look up as you waved uninterested to your assistant. “Just set it down on the table.” Right now, these budget papers needed your attention. “I’ll open it later.” You hadn’t been expecting anything, but that wasn’t unusual. Partners or sponsors occasionally sent new products to test out or as a gift to keep the mutually beneficial relationship going strong.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jun put the small cardboard box on the coffee table set up on the other side of your office before bowing and leaving.

For another hour, you poured over the suggestions from the different departments of what they believed they needed to fully function for the upcoming fiscal year. All the numbers were beginning to blur together as a headache was starting to pound against your skull. You needed a break.

Yes, this was a much better career for you. Although those looking from the outside might see it as a step down, they didn’t fully understand. It was easy to look at the smiling face on a promotional campaign and stop. They didn’t dig deeper. The need to appear perfect but never reaching that level, the lack of decisions placed in your hands, the lack of privacy. What extremes had you gone to avoid paparazzi or overly adoring fans? How many dates had you gone on that were ruined either because the guy didn’t want all the attention or because that was exactly what they wanted?

Standing up, you stretched your legs by pacing around your office. Thankfully it was spacious enough to give you a good amount of room, letting you make large laps to get the blood flowing again. It was an office fit for a director with its tall windows on the top floor. Your father’s office was a few doors down the hall and even larger than yours. Maybe you should pace in there instead, to get more steps in. With the sun going down on the horizon, the chances of your father still being around were slim. Unlike you, he tried to keep to normal working hours. It made your mother feel more at ease about his health. A troubling concern that bothered you, too. When you were child, your father was Superman, invincible. As an adult, you were no longer shielded from the truths of an ailing body.

Before you could decide to check if his office was indeed empty, the package caught your eye.  The return address was a P.O. Box, absent of a name of whom it belonged to. Strange. It was also addressed directly to you, no formal title preceding it, as was often the case with promotional packages. You didn’t get too many delivers in this manner that weren’t of the router or legal envelopes variety. Grabbing a pair of scissors from your desk, you cut the tape and pulled back the cardboard flaps.

And then you screamed.

The box fell from your hands as Jun came running back into the room.

“Ma’am, what happened?” he asked frantically. With a trembling hand, you pointed to the package that was now spilling out all over your carpet.

Old magazine clippings covered in red smears - smears that were obviously made of blood.

“Don’t touch anything,” Jun swallowed thickly as he backed you away. “I’ll call the police and have security review who dropped it off.”

You nodded, unable to voice anything, too paralyzed by fear. Because this was no ordinary threat. This had nothing to do with who you were today. You knew those clippings, those old articles that you hadn’t thought about in years. That part of your life had long been behind you. The only remnant of it was the rare “Where are they now?” tabloid entry that no one read. So why had someone done this? Why now?

**

No.

No, no, no, no, and no.

There was no way you were going to agree to this. Your life was exactly the way you wanted it to be and you didn’t need some over muscled buffoon messing it all up. In your opinion, you should let the detectives do their work while you let this creep know that you weren’t scared of him. The initial shock of the first package had worn off and now you were just pissed.

“I don’t think that this is necessary. At all.” You were determined to with this argument as you sat across from your father in his living room. His face was scrunched with worry and dark circles pulled at the skin underneath his eyes. When he called you over to your childhood home, you thought he was simply going to give you an update on the police investigation into your stalker.

Hah.

Instead he had a bomb to drop on you – no pun intended. His idea of keeping you safe with this stalker on the loose. If it had just been the one package, you would have had a stronger argument. But the phone calls started two days later. No words were spoken, just heavy breathing. You couldn’t even get a creative psychopath.

“I will not lose my only child,” your father insisted.

“I can take care of myself,” you said. “Increase security in the main lobby and start screening all packages that come in. We don’t need to go to extremes.”

Your father was much better at presenting counter arguments. “What if the stalker manages to get through the front lobby? Or if the mail comes to your home next time? Or if he approaches you at a restaurant or the park? Distanced security will only go so far. I need someone who will be there in a split second if something were to happen.”

“Father, please, do not stick some stuck up, full-of-himself babysitter on me at all times.”

“A babysitter is meant for children, and from what I see, you’re a grown woman in trouble.”

In the doorway leading from the main hallway to the living room stood three very different, yet very imposing men in tailored black suits. The one who spoke stepped forward. His black hair was parted on the side, curling slightly over his forehead. Two little dots sat below his left eyebrow. He possessed a fierce sharp face that had the ability to look… bored, almost. The others that flanked either side were complete opposites: one short with light brown hair and a stocky build, the other tall with platinum hair and a lankier frame. Not exactly the run-of-the-mill bodyguards. Were these the ones that would be stuck with you all day and night?

“Ah, Jaebeom,” your father greeted as he stood from his spot on the couch opposite of where you stood. Walking around, he shook this Jaebeom’s hand enthusiastically. “Thank you for coming. Your agency came highly recommended.”

Jaebeom placed his hand against his chest, bowing gratefully. “We’ve worked hard to gain our reputation.”

“And will one of you three be guarding my daughter?”

“Only in the areas where extra protection is needed,” Jaebeom said. “Given the gravity of the situation, I’m putting my best man on this.”

Crossing your arms, you felt like the child who got caught with their Halloween candy under the bed and now the parents were talking about what punishment to deal out. “And who would that be?”

“Park Jinyoung,” the silver haired one smirked.

“He’s finishing up another assignment at the moment, so he couldn’t be with us today,” Jaebeom said.

You raised an eyebrow. “What kind of assignment?”

“A short term one.”

A bit cryptic, but you were smart enough to know when a battle wasn’t worth fighting. Whatever this Park Jinyoung was doing before he would stick to you like flypaper, it was none of your business. A small little prayer that his assignment would take longer than expected and wouldn’t show up at all was cited in your head. Pointless. Surely, Jaebeom would just insert another guard until “his best man” was available again. Your father would insist.

“I thank you for your attentiveness on this.” For the first time in weeks, the tension in your father’s shoulders released. Guilt twisted at your stomach. Though you were sure that, with a little bit of time, this stalker would get bored and move on, your father’s worry was unsurmountable.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Turning away from the others, your arms moved from a defensive position to one where you were holding yourself together. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not now that you were the boss, now that you were behind the scenes, away from the red-carpet premieres and flashing bulbs that burned your retinas. You had a grip on all aspects of your life. Your apartment was decorated the way you wanted, not your mother. You made final decisions for the company. That package was snatching the control of your life from your hands.

“Hey.”

You turned your head to glance over your shoulder. The stockier bodyguard had approached you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers. A sympathetic expression softened the sharper features of his face. He could be intimidating, with his broad shoulders yet lithe build shown off by the tailored suit.

“Jinyoung really is the best among us,” he said. “He’ll make sure you’re safe and I wouldn’t be surprised if he caught this guy in the meantime.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you sighed as you turned around fully, “but it's not the stalker that I’m worried about. I like my privacy, my life the way it is now. With a guard following me around all day, word about this will get out. And then the paparazzi will be back on me like clumps of sticky rice.” They wouldn’t be able to resist a story like this.

“I know it sucks, but it won’t be forever.”

You nodded, but more in acknowledgment that he had spoken rather than in agreement. It was easy enough to say that something would end; everything does. But what you wanted was to be able to physically be close to the end. You wanted to see it, reach out and graze it with the tips of your fingers. But there was no light in this tunnel. If you ever met this stalker, you would make sure that at least one of you ended up in the hospital.

“Jackson,” Jaebeom called out, catching both of your attentions. The leader motioned out the door with his head. “Let’s go.” He turned back to your father. “We’ll make another round at the office, get to know your security there, and create a rotation that will cover the area sufficiently.”

“I thank you again for all your work. I look forward to meeting this Park Jinyoung.”

“He should arrive by tomorrow evening. If something holds him up, we’ll contact you.”

Your father shook his hand before the three bodyguards left. When it was just the two of you again, you leaned up against the wall and let out a rather unseemly raspberry between your lips.

“Please, don’t be like that,” your father begged. “I’m only trying to do what I think is best to protect you.”

“I know, I know,” you said, exasperated. “I just… I feel like I’m sixteen again.”

Your father chuckled. “If I remember correctly, you enjoyed your bodyguards back then.”

“Because I was stupid and it made me feel important.” Very important, indeed. Not just anyone had big burly men surrounding them as they walked through airport to get to the blacked-out van waiting for you in the car park. They were the ones who kept the photographers and overzealous fans at bay. When you were young, you looked at those pictures where you were wearing sunglasses to block out the flashing and thought you were one of the coolest people in the world. Now the very thought of that situation made you feel pity – whether it was old pictures of yourself or newer one of the latest generation of young stars. There was nothing to envy. Not when all you wanted was to be able to walk through the airport and make it to your flight without worrying around being crowded or pulled at or hear the constant screaming. And you weren’t even a heartthrob popstar. You’d dated a few, though.

“Well, things are different now,” you father said in an attempt to be comforting. “and I spoke to others who had used Lim Jaebeom’s services and they said it was like his men were hardly even there.”

It took a lot of self-control to bite down and keep your tongue from spouting off. Because it didn’t matter how invisible the guards felt to the others – they were probably used to treating employees like they didn’t exist. You were not going to be able to do that. You were going to be too hyperaware of the extra presence in your life. Like a shadow creeping behind you down a dark alley. Always there in the corner of your eye, lurking and waiting.

“I should probably be getting home,” you said.

Your father nodded in agreement. “I’ll have Seonjo see you there.”

“Father, I-” One quick, stern look cut off any argument. “Yes, sir.” So much for being a grown woman.

Seonjo was one of your father’s own security. He was loyal to the family, your father most of all. He once sent a disgruntled employee to the hospital for trying to harm your father. He never directly admitted to having a license to kill, but you wouldn’t be surprised. As a child, he’d intimidated you. One time, he caught you trying to sneak out through the back kitchen door past midnight so you could go hang out with your friends. You thought that being thrown over someone’s shoulder was a stunt you would only have to perform in front of a camera. Needless to say, you didn’t try that again.

Out front, Seonjo was already leaning up against your car, waiting for you to unlock the doors. You didn’t fight him on who got to drive. You simply pulled your keys out and tossed them to the bodyguard before jumping into the passenger’s seat.

“How do you plan on get home?” you asked once you were down the road a ways.

“Rideshares are very common, you know,” Seonjo snorted. He’d become more playful as you’d gotten older. Your only guess as to why was perhaps he wasn’t very comfortable around children. Those little creatures were even more unpredictable than adults and from you had observed, Seonjo liked things… quiet. And orderly. Kids tended to be neither.

“But wouldn’t that break protocol?”

“They won’t enter the property,” Seonjo countered. “I’ll have them drop me off a little down the road and walk the rest of the way.”

“Always the man with a plan,” you laughed.

“That’s the job,” he replied with a smile.

Safe and sound in your own apartment, Seonjo bid you a goodnight and headed down the elevator to meet his rideshare driver down on the sidewalk. You were a bit surprised that he wasn’t staying the night to watch over you, but you were thankful. One last night of freedom in your own home before the lion came a’ prowling. It didn’t feel fair at all. But it just goes to show that the past never stays asleep for long.

**

“So, wait, let me get this straight: you… are… complaining at the fact that a man has to protect you and keep you safe from your crazy, maniacal stalker?”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend, knowing that you should have been prepared for this.

Dan had been by your side since the two of you costarred in a short-lived comedy series about high school students. Not that either of you were that sad about its less-than-a-season lifespan. Right after that, you snagged the lead in the show was the defining role of your acting life and Dan was able to move on to create his own fashion line. You couldn’t say what your other costars were up to now, but Dan was always – and would always be – a constant in your life.

“Its not that serious,” you said again as you leaned forward on your desk. Dan had come to your office to have dinner with you since he was sure that it wasn’t safe for you to eat out in the open in a crowded restaurant. You know, where witnesses were present.

“See, you keep saying that, but I’m not sure if you’re aware of the actual definition of serious.” Dan folded his hands and pulled up on his knee as he crossed his legs. “The phone callss might be passable, but the package of pig’s blood with old magazine articles about you isn’t as easily overlooked.”

“I get it. I really do. But I like how my life is right now. I don’t want to think about that pompous brat of an actress I was.”

“Okay, first of all,” Dan held up a finger, “you weren’t that bad because I never would have been your friend if you were.” Now a second finger. “Second of all, you can’t control other people, honey. I don’t know why they’re suddenly fixated on you after nearly eight years, but they are. And you have to deal with it.” A cheeky look came across his face as he lifted his glass of wine to his lips. “Besides, you never know. Maybe this Park guy will be handsome and the two of you will fall in love while he protects you from the axe wielding maniac.”

You gave him your best deadpan look. “You’ve watched The Bodyguard too many times.”

“Whitney Houston is an icon. She created one of the greatest ballads of all time with that movie.”

“Actually, the song was originally written by Dolly Parton.”

Dan jumped at the third voice, nearly spilling his wine. Thankfully, the liquid didn’t leave the glass, and he was wearing black pants anyway.

Standing in your open doorway was a man in a sharp black suit with a simple cut. It was the causal kind, like your father never wore. Hair almost as dark as the suit was parted on the side and slicked back away from his forehead. The smallest of smirks rested in the corner of his mouth, giving a little bit of light to his otherwise serious expression.

Surprised that he finally showed up after waiting all day, you stood to your feet and walked over to your new bodyguard. You held out your hand for him to take. It was a strong grip, but not so much so that it was intimidating. He kept eye contact with you, but in a way that was creepy or uncomfortable. “Hi. I’m (y/n).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). My name is Park Jinyoung. Jaebeom already informed you that I was assigned to watch over you until this stalker is caught.”

“Yes, he did.”

Dan hopped up from his seat and came to stand beside you. With his own hand stretched out, he took the liberty of introducing himself. “Hi, I’m Daniel Larken. The fashion designer? You might have heard of me.”

Jinyoung shook his hand, obviously amused by the forwardness. “The one with the reflective suits?”

“It’s actually a shimmer sewn in with the thread,” Dan corrected.

“Ah,” Jinyoung nodded. “Good work.”

“Thank you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered back and forth between you and Dan, smirking. He was enjoying this. Well, at least one of you would be. And now that Dan was fully onboard, there was no one left to stand by you. It was official. You were stuck with this Park Jinyoung. As long as he agreed to stay out of your way and not completely upend your life, then this shouldn’t be too bad of an arrangement.

With a brewing smile of his own, Dan turned to you. “I want one.”

You crossed your arms sternly. “No.”

[a-n-conrad]

Coffee Shop (Spencer Reid x Reader)

[Summary: After a new Coffee shop opened up near the FBI headquarters, Spencer found a new favorite place to pick up his coffee on the way to work. And after making friends with the owner of the little shop, he was even more motivated to spend time there. (They/Them pronouns)

Warnings: Not proofread, Maybe swearing (I don’t remember)

Request:From my Request Survey(https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

It took you a few years to save up the money you needed to open your coffee shop. You managed to secure a little shop not too far from the FBI headquarters, meaning a good portion of your customer base was FBI agents. It was kind of nice to not have to worry about your security too much. With the amount of federal agents in your shop at any given time, it’d be stupid to try to rob you. 

One of your favorite customers came in a few weeks after you first opened. He was dressed a bit better than most of your other customers, or at least more creatively. You were getting a little bored with black and white, so his purple tie and button-up was a welcome change, and his hair looked just fluffy enough that you kind of wanted to pat his head.

“I heard a new coffee shop opened nearby, but I wasn’t expecting you to have quite this nice of a collection of classic books,” He motioned to the tall bookshelves that wrapped around your shop.

“Thank you. It took me quite a while to get this many. You’re free to borrow any of them that you’d like, though, just make sure you give me your name and number, so I can keep tabs on my books,” You say, a smile on your face. You always appreciated when people recognized the effort you put into the books, “Is there something I can get you?”

“Oh, uh, just a large salted caramel mocha,” He replied sheepishly.

“For here or to go?” You already knew the answer. You had seen his FBI badge, so you were already reaching for the travel cup. But it was always better to ask than assume.

“To go,” He was still looking at one of the book shelves when he responded, “Is that in french?”

He was pointing to one of your favorite books. It rarely drew much attention, because it was old and worn out, and the attention it did get was normally driven off by the fact that it was, in fact, in french.

“Yes, it is,” You reply, starting to make his drink, “It’s one of the original prints of that book, so it’s a little worn out.”

“I think I’ll borrow it, if you don’t mind. I’ve been looking for a french version of this book for a while,” He said. He walked over for a moment to carefully pull the book from the shelf. Somehow, even with his tall, slightly lanky build, he managed to look graceful and at home among the book shelves.

“Alright, your name and phone number, please?” You set his completed drink down on the counter and pulled out a ledger that you were using to keep track of the people borrowing your books.

“Spencer Reid,” He said, “(702)-555-0103”

- - - - -

Spencer came back the next day to return the book. And just about every day after that. He borrowed books and read through them quicker than you thought was humanly possible. And eventually you stopped keeping track of the books that he was borrowing. You trusted that he’d return them. You had even started to get his order ready before he got there to pick it up, checking that he would actually be there with the number that he gave you when he first checked out a book.

You had started talking regularly, too. Whether it be about books, or coffee, or his work. Though, he did try to keep most of his work to himself. Eventually, you started keeping the shop open late on the nights that he told you he’d be coming home from a case, and he’d stop by. If it was a rough one, you’d make some calming drinks and sit with him for a little while. You knew better than to try to make him talk about the bad cases, but he seemed to appreciate the company. 

You came to know him as a very good friend, and you hoped that he thought of you the same way. Well, sort of. While you’d only ever admit to thinking of him as a friend, you held a bit more affection for the good doctor than you originally expected to. 

He was obviously smart, and a little awkward, but when you got him onto a topic that he liked, he could talk nonstop. While some people may have thought it could get annoying, you admired his passion, and liked to listen to him talk. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him a little cute when he rambled. You were proud to call him your friend.

And when he invited you to come to one of the outings his team was having, that feeling of pride almost overwhelmed you. His team was a big part of his life, and the fact that he wanted to introduce you to them, made your heart melt.

- - - - -

You were nervous when you showed up at the sushi bar that Spencer had told you to meet at. Were you at the right place? Was it the right time? Did you dress alright? You wanted to impress Spencer’s team. You felt the way you felt in highschool, meeting your highschool boyfriend’s family. But that was ridiculous, right? You two were just friends, so you really had nothing to worry about. Plenty of people had friends that didn’t always get along with their other friends.

“Hey, you don’t have to be so nervous,” You nearly jumped at his voice, “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep picking at your nails like that.”

“Oh, uh, hey,” You respond sheepishly. Normally you’d be embarrassed by the awkward response, but you knew that your favorite FBI agent wouldn’t mind all that much, “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous to meet your other friends, Spence.”

“Don’t be,” He responded. His smile was sweet and you felt your face start to heat up just a little. You hoped that he didn’t notice, “I’m sure they’ll love you.”

You nod, and take a deep breath. You were still quite anxious, but you hoped that walking in with Spencer would help you feel a little more confident. Something about standing right next to him as you walked through the door made you feel like nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Woah, hey,” You heard a deep voice whoop as Spencer lead you towards a table. You figured that his team must have gone there pretty frequently, “Looks like pretty boy brought a guest. You gonna introduce them to us or what?”

Spencer sighed a bit at the sight of the man that had called out for him. It seemed as though his friends had already ordered a couple of drinks, “(Y/n), this is Derek Morgan,” He motioned to the man, before introducing the rest of the team, “Guys, this is (Y/n). They’re my friend that owns that coffee shop that I told you about.”

“The one that you keep borrowing books from,” The woman that was introduced as Penelope Garcia asked, “They must have quite the collection.”

You spent a little while talking about your shop. And then a little more talking about Spencer. And the longer you talked with his friends, joking and laughing, the surer you were that you were completely head over heels for this man. While they were impressed by his genius, they didn’t seem to admire him in anywhere near the way that you did. And none of them seemed to like his rambling like you. You didn’t just admire his genius or think of him as a really good friend like you sort of hoped. You were genuinely and completely in love with him. And you had a feeling that his friends could tell.

It was on your way back from a trip to the restroom that you had that worry confirmed.

“Oh, come on, Spence, you’re a profiler. Don’t tell me that you really didn’t notice how big of a crush they have on you,” JJ sounded exhausted as she said it. Like she had been trying to explain flirting to him for weeks, and he still just wasn’t getting it. “So what? What if I did notice?” Spencer asked in return. His tone was that of a teenage boy whose parents had been nagging him about his crushes for months. 

“Do you not have feelings for them?” Morgan was the one to ask next, “You go to their shop enough, even when you don’t actually want coffee. And you brought them along here when you’ve never done that with anyone before. It’s alright if you don’t wanna date them, but if I’m getting mixed signals, I’m sure they are too.”

You chose that moment to make your appearance. You really didn’t want to hear that response. You were fine with mixed signals. You were fine not knowing. Because not knowing wasn’t rejection. And you rather not know than be rejected.

“What were you guys talking about,” You ask as you sit back down. You hoped that your acting skills were good enough to fool the profilers around you. Maybe they weren’t paying that much attention to you.

“Nothing super important,” Spencer answered before anyone else did, “I should get going pretty soon. I have to check in on my mom.”

You followed as he stood up, not wanting to be left alone with his friends. Especially knowing that they knew about your crush on their coworker. Not to mention, you had taken a cab there, and really didn’t want to take one back, “Do you mind giving me a ride home? I can grab a cab if you want, but if you don’t mind, I’d love a ride.”

“Oh, sure.”

- - - - -

The ride started out pretty awkward. Just you giving Spencer directions to your house between longs gaps of cold silence. The tenson was thick, and you felt like maybe you were wrong. Maybe not knowing wasn’t better than rejection. Maybe rejection was much better than this.

“How much of the conversation did you actually hear before you walked up,” Spencer eventually asked. You could hear the same tension in his tone that you felt in the pit of your gut.

You weren’t sure how to respond. You knew this conversation was going to bring your pining to an end. You just weren’t quite sure how it would end exactly. But you were pretty sure that it would hurt. 

Spencer was too good for you. He was a successful FBI agent with multiple doctorates. He was charming and handsome and could probably get any partner he wanted. And you were what? A glorified barista with a book collection? 

“Just a little. You really don’t have to worry about it,” You said, trying a last ditch effort to get this to hurt you less. 

“(Y/n),” He sounded like he was scolding you a little, “You know that I know you have feelings for me, don’t you.”

God, why’d he have to say it like that? Why’d he have to say it like he was about to lecture you? You were stuck in this car. You had to sit through this conversation wherever it went. And you were sure that you weren’t going to like it.

“Look, Spence, you don’t have to do this. We really could just not talk about it,” You try again, desperate to at least push the conversation back.

“So you do actually have feelings for me?”

“I-” You really should know better than to deny it. He’d see through you. He always knew when you were lying, “Yes.”

You felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. You couldn’t understand why. You didn’t say anything that he didn’t already know, so there’s no reason for him to feel relieved. Especially if he didn’t feel the same way. Why would he be relieved that he has to reject you?

“This make this a lot less awkward,” He said, pulling the car up to your house, “Would you like to go on a date with me next Friday? After you close up the shop?

You froze. That wasn’t what you expected the response to be, “I-, uh, yes! Of course!”

It was then that he got a little red in the face, his blush matching your own, and he sheepishly asked, “Could I kiss you?”

Your body answered before your brain could, and before you knew it, your lips were on his. 

[A/N: Sorry if this is really bad. I’ve been dying from the writer’s block recently. Please, feel free to take the quiz if you liked it, though.]

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia “The Invasion Continues

You all seemed to really enjoy the burg invasion, so here is some more. I hope you like it and I hope you have a great Monday.

“This planet…. Is a death trap. All our men are dead or…. Or dying…. Please we cannot survive any longer.”

The transmission ended rather abruptly, and the newly instated burg commander slammed his fist into the control panel, “What is happening!”

Around the room his counterparts scurried to avoid his anger.

“There have been reports of animal attacks, poisonings and…. Industrial accidents…. It seems that the human planet is far more dangerous than we originally anticipated. The entire thing is a deathtrap.”

Crew members cowered back against their station as a pincer slammed into the console, “They are squishy flesh-bags you should have no trouble taking them out!”

“The humans are not the problem, it is their planet. It is covered in boiling water, poisonous plants, angry wildlife, and apparently non-military have banded into pack-hunting structures in order to kill us, and it is working very effectively. We assumed that their civilian population would be largely inferior to their military counterparts, but it turns out that the non military humans are just more creative.”

The burg commander’s carapace chattered with his anger, “Then if we cannot win this war, we will hit them where it hurts.”

“Your glory?”

“Bring me the GPS coordinates.”

“The ones that we took from the destroyed human ship.”

The burg rubbed two of his upper legs together, “Exactly those.”

The burg second in command looked very confused, “But, your glory. These….. Are just locations on the planet related to specific human soldiers. Why would we need these?”

The burg commander tapped his leg against the console,

“Cut off the head, and the body will die.”

***

“This morning both local and worldwide governments have reported isolated pockets of alien ivation from all over the world, Let’s head to Jeff who has been traveling the eastern seaboard this morning with details.”

“Thank you Tom, and yes worldwide and local governments have issued a state of emergency. UNSC forces are being deployed as we speak to all locations around the globe where the Burg have been sited. However, this is no independence day Steve, this is something entirely different. While there have been reports about burg sightings, teams of them up to five or six strong in some cases, so far no one has been killed or injured, at least not by a burg anyway.”

“What do you mean Jeff?”

“Well isolated reports have reached us from all across the world of people who have accidentally run into burg remains rather than live soldiers.. Evidence suggests that Crocodiles, bears, wolves, poison ivy, army ants, hippos, kangaroos, and poisonous snakes have all taken up the cause of mother earth, who doesn’t seem particularly pleased about being invaded. And when the burg have made their way into populated city centers, well things haven’t gotten much better. Groups of drunken football fans in eastern Europe and the British isles have been seen roaming the streets of Berlin, Paris, London, Dublin, and Rome in packs . Vatican security forces were even dispatching a number of burg troops in the early hours of the morning.”

The TV screen cut to a grainy video of a dark street which showed a pack of riotous humans with bats, clubs, and broken chairs racing down the street after alien forms shouting insults to the fleeing backs.

The video cut.

“Reports in from Chicago have the local gangs, police forces, and a high school chess club teaming up and beating the invasion back with gunfire, improvised explosives, dogs,  and molotov cocktails of all things.”

“A truly shocking turn of events Jeff, but what are the UNSC saying about protecting us and our families during this time.”

“The UNSC is cautiously optimistic about the outcome of this event, Tom, but even so, they are advising that all Burg sightings be directed to the UNSC invasion hotline, with the number posted on screen right here, and available on all major mobile devices. Civilians are encouraged to avoid the burg if at all possible, though if those are not an option for either you or your family, the CDC has issued reports that human saliva can be fatal to the burg due to a certain enzyme which known to break down burg slime, and the potent cocktail of germs which follow. Your best weapon is to spit at them, barring that, than go right ahead and beat them to death with any available blunt object within reach, or sharp object. Shaolin warriors in china, Samurai enthusiasts in japan on Renaissance goers from america to europe are finding uses for swords and bladed weapons they have not been used for in the history of man. Attack dog saliva is just as useful as human saliva in this case so if Fido wants to get in on the action, your best bet is to let your pooch go ham and serve himself up a plate of space crab.”

“Thank you Jeff, and stay tuned where we will be receiving real time updates on the state of the invasion. But for now will your homeowners insurance cover alien invasions, what you need to know.” Martha, Jim, and Sunny sat on the couch staring at the TV.

Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Better stay inside, Sunny. I’m sure after that there might be some people to gungho to notice you’re a bit too pretty to be a burg.”

“Alien invasion.” Martha muttered, “Do you think we should get the guns ready, just in case.”

The man shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt. Come on Sunny, you know how to use a gun don’t you.”

“I am Chief weapons specialist.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Martha stood, “Grab my shotgun will you, dear, I’m going to go check on Adam.”

He nodded, letting her go. Sunny glanced over her shoulder catching a glimpse into the room through the door where Adam was lying out cold. She was pleased to see he was still asleep, and had slept through most of the night.

Hopefully this alien invasion thing would be over by the time he woke up.

***

Martha appeared at the top of the stairs into the basement, just as Jim and Sunny were coming up the stairs, a gun in each hand.

Martha took one from Sunny and walked into the kitchen, where the three of them sat at the table loading weapons. The doorbell going off nearly startled them out of their seats, but Jim went to go get it.

Sunny listened intently.

“Hey dad, did you see the news this morning?”

“Oh hey David, why don’t you come on inside, good morning to you Jordan, ah and my nephew.” Sunny lifted her head as David, Adam’s older brother, walked into the kitchen with his partner Jordan and their little boy bouncing happily in Jim’s arms.

Martha got up to hug her sun, and the other members of his family.

“Yes we heard about that.”

“Oh, hi sunny. Is Adam here?”

Martha had the group of them take their seats, “he’s resting. Apparently he went and saved the universe just recently, and we are trying to get him to rest. So don’t talk about the whole alien invasion thing too loudly.” 

“Oh, sorry.”

It was just at that moment that the absolutely deafening sound of engines rocked the house rumbling through the floors and shaking the very foundation.

“What in blue blazes.”

Outside the front window a chain of bikers and rednecks doubled up on old rickety dirt bikes raced past the window screaming and brandishing guns. The line seemed to go on forever until they vanished down the road.

“What in the hell.”

A groggy voice just behind them, “What’s going on?”

They all turned to find Adam leaning against the hallway wall rubbing his eyes and looking rather bleery. He was still very pale.

“Just the neighbor kids being louds, now, Go back to bed!”

Adam appeared too groggy to be skeptical and just staggered back to his room.

The group of them looked at each other nervously.

“Sunny and I will stay here and guard the house, you three mind going outside and checking out what is going on.”

***

They had come to cut off the head. All remaining burg forces had been rerouted from the rest of earth, and were now making their way towards the GPS coordinates. They knew they could not overtake earth, but if they couldn’t do that then they had vowed  to destroy the morale of humanity and take away it’s greatest nuisance.

Commander Adam vir would be dead before the sun sak below the horizon.

They entirely expected to show up in surprise, unannounced, but earth had different plans for them. In the space of ten minutes, two of their troops was hit by a minivan, and a third was attacked by a very angry small dog.

Walking along the fence line another burg ran into a very strange creature. It was very small, and sat atop a fence post, its golden eyes fixed on the burg as it lazily flicked it’s tail back and forth. Its ears were drawn back flat against it’s skull. He approached, and the creature hissed. He went to shoo it away with a hand.

And was immediately set upon by a very angry cat intent on ripping his eyes out of his face.

Their luck only worsened as engines rolled up the street, and a group of hungry looking bikers, teamed up with a very gleeful group of rednecks came charging down the street guns blazing. Motorcycles spun out, humans went flying.

Nearby, in the residential houses, families hid in their basements, while others made it to rooftops taking pot shots from their balconies, upper windows, or sometimes form the peak of their rooftops. 

One young man had been very industrious, unbeknownst to his parents, and began chucking lit molotov cocktails out the window of his bedroom. 

His older brother, also a chemistry geek upgraded that to homemade napalm.

From the other end of the street, the highschool girls softball team, and the girl scouts rolled up on hover boards and the backs of bicycles. The  softball team had a mounted automated pitching machine on the back of a wagon, and each girl was equipped with a bat, and a bucket full of balls.

The girl scouts had apparently been preparing since last night, and had water guns full of spit, which was pretty gross but rather effective.

The softball captain took up a mounted position at the back of the wagon, and began pouring the balls into the machine which fired out at about ninety miles an hour give or take five. One burg had his face collapsed in an unlucky turn of events.

Their invitation to the high school baseball team had not gone un-headed, but they had brought with them the chemistry club, and the robotics team, who had downgraded to potato guns for the moment.

The police rocked up a few moments later to create a blockade down the next street and coordinate so now humans got caught in the crossfire .

An unsupervised cheerleader, had made herself rather industrious  pulling up with a vest full of hair products, which people seemed skeptical about until she sprayed a burg right in the eyes, and turned another can into a flamethrower. A group of firemen showed up behind the police, blasting lines of Drev with high powered fire hose 

I took the burg longer than it should have to determine that being lumped into a group wasn’t the best idea and so broke off into smaller units managing to sneak in through the mele and into the neighborhood.

Their luck didn’t get much better.

One of them was nailed in the head by a dirty diaper dropped from an upper window.

Another found himself hounded by the cross country team, who were gleefully using mankind's god-given talent of distance running to run their prey into the ground, hunting like pack humans should before beating them to death with tire irons and crowbars.

Someone’s dad stood on his front porch armed with a fire extinguisher and his tool belt, while another mom had packed her kids neatly into their car seats and was roaming the streets with ACDC blaring through her open windows, mowing over any unsuspecting burg that happened to end up in the street while her teenage daughter offered free ammunition and snacks from the back window.

The UNSC showed up late to the party rolling into scene in jeeps with proper military equipment and drones

By this time the invasion force was dwindling, and only a single group had managed to make it through to their target.

A little house in the center of the suburbs unsuspecting in the warm overhead sun.

They crept forward a few of them moving around back while the others inched around front.

One slid up to the front door, reached out a hand and opened inward.

They were met by the barrel of a shotgun and a very angry blond woman, and her face twisted into a snarl, was the last thing he ever saw.

***

Adam was woken a second time by gunshots. Bolting upright in bed and nearly passing out from the vertigo. He blinked blearily past his fuzzy vision and out the door as his mother backed into the hallway. There was another loud blast and blue icor painted the wall before her.

She backed down the hallway, and he could hear the repeated pump of the shotgun as she backed down the hall.

The burg chasing after.

He tried getting to his feet, but ended up on the floor gripping the bedside table for support.

His mother’s hair flew wildly about her head

“YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY SUN.” Another mob of them was rounding the corner.. It looked like she was going to be over-run.

But a sudden swirl of blue overtook them, and Sunny charged into them dispatching at least four less than as many seconds. A whimper came from the corner, and he turned his head to find Jordan, wide-eyed standing in the corner blocking his son shakily holding a rifle in one hand.

Martha backed up until she was kneeling right before Adam blocking him with her body.

Sunny was backing down the hall now too as the Burg followed.

Jordan took a deep breath and peered around the doorframe, taking one or two shots as sunny flattened herself against the wall, before he ducked back into cover.

It wasn’t looking good.

Not at least until Jim, and David came bursting in one through the front and one through the back mowing down the remaining burg.

Adam found himself flat on his stomach pinned to the floor as his mother through herself over him blocking his body with hers despite how much smaller she was.

And then the gunfire stopped.

“Martha! Martha!”

“We’re ok Jim.”

“Jordan.”

“Right here.” The two of them ran into the room David scooping up Jordan and his son, while Jim ran to make sure his wife was ok.

Outside, boots clattered on the porch, and a group of UNSC soldiers burst into the house sweeping their guns over the blood painted walls. They stopped when they saw Adam sitting at the foot of his bed very much alive, 

“Delta to Alpha one the package is secure.”

Adam was thinking about asking his mother why no one had told him about the alien invasion.

But then he saw her cradling a shotgun covered in burg blood hair in a wild mess and decided that.

Maybe that was a topic for another time. 

[vindicatedvirgil]

science partners / intrulogical

...yeah idk what it is about this ship but i’m in love. also, remus is still stuck to me, please someone help? he’s really growing on me.

it’s a high school human AU! please enjoy

includes: high school Logan, high school Remus, science experiments, friends to lovers, it’s kind of super fluffy at the end

(masterlist)

“Remus Creative–”

“I’m a present!” Remus cackled, a bow on his head.

“Yes, very nice. Roman Creative?”

“Preseeeent~!” Roman sang out.

“Logan Crofters–”

“Here.” His head was down, and he was jotting in his worn-down notebook. He tuned out the rest of roll call, and was only faintly listening to the assignment the teacher was talking about.

“Ahem. Mr. Crofters?” The teacher was standing right in front of Logan. “Did you hear what I said about your project partner?”

“Uh…” Logan glanced around. “No, sorry.” The teacher just rolled their eyes and pointed to the student sitting next to Logan, who glanced to his left. It was Remus Creative, probably the most inappropriate and wacky student in Logan’s grade. “Um, can’t I… do this project on my own?” Remus made a mocking offended noise.

“Ugh, like I want to work with Mr. ‘I’m better than you because I’m a super smarty pants’ but teach here has already said that we’re working together, so put on your big boy pants and look at the assignment sheet with me,” He muttered, resting his chin on his hand, his tongue sticking out a little bit. The teacher wandered off, and Logan closed his notebook, glancing at the assignment sheet that was set down between the two boys.

“...we have to come up with our own physics experiment?” Logan asked. Remus fluttered his eyelashes, staring at Logan. 

“I have a few ideas for a physics assignment, cutie pie~”

“No. Nothing dirty, you snake.” Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. Remus made that mock offended noise again.

“Excuse you, I am not a snake! Janus is the snake. I’m more of a stinky rat man, you know?” Remus laughed, then took out a pen and began writing potential ideas for experiments on the paper. Logan watched him scrawl a list of potential experiments, some typical, but a few of them were pretty out there. He was appalled at the fact that the pen wrote in sparkly silver ink, but ignored this.

“Isn’t something with solar panels… overdone a bit?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses frames, then pointed to one item on the list. “Why does this just say bouncy balls?”

“It’s an experiment on height and linearity of bouncing balls,” Remus answered simply. “But if you think it’s too silly, whatever.”

“No, that’s actually… intriguing.” Logan responded. “We have to record our experiment for the presentations and log our results. We should find a space to film.”

“Not my house,” Remus muttered. “Unless you want to be around Roman.” Logan glanced over his shoulder at Remus’ twin, who was boasting about something. Logan shook his head.

“My apartment is kind of a mess, but my mom is always working, so it should be fine.” Remus looked deep in thought, but he just nodded. “We should get a variety of sizes of balls, so we have more data to go off of. I have carpet, tile, and hardwood, so we can test on surfaces as well.” Remus cackled.

“My balls are bouncy, I promise… and if you want, I have some hard wood for ya,” He grinned toothily, and Logan just rolled his eyes, ignoring the jokes. Well, what he hoped were jokes.

“There’s a dollar store by my apartment. We can do this after school today, and get it out of the way,” He explained. “We can meet out front once the day is done.”

-

Logan sighed, crossing his arms. Thirty minutes had already passed since the final bell rang, and Remus was nowhere to be found. This was why he hated working with others on projects; they couldn’t be depended on, not for anything. He decided to wait another fifteen minutes for his classmate, and if he didn’t show, he’d do the project on his own and tell the teacher that Remus bailed.

Logan was not so lucky. He was nearly tackled to the ground when someone hugged him from behind, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Lolo!” Remus’ cackle was jarring and it made Logan’s head spin. He peeled the other’s arms off of him and glared harshly at the pouting teen.

“You’re late,” he said. Remus shrugged. “And don’t call me Lolo. My name is Logan, and you will refer to me as that and only that.” He began walking off campus, and Remus skipped alongside him, humming.

“So, how far away is your house?” Remus asked, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulders again. The logical teen didn’t bother to push him off, but glared at him through his glasses. 

“It’s a fifteen minute walk to the dollar store and then a five minute walk from there to the apartment complex,” Logan explained. Remus frowned when he realized the direction they were walking in, towards the more low-income part of town, but he decided to say nothing. They walked in silence, which surprised Logan, until they got to the store. Remus grabbed a cart and wheeled himself down the aisles, giggling. “Remus, please, we need to locate the bouncing balls.”

“Oh, alright. You’re no fun,” Remus pouted, and the two located the area with them. They got several packets of various sizes, and Remus also grabbed a large bouncing ball, which he held by hugging it. Logan rolled his eyes, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized that Remus looked like a small child when he held the giant ball. They checked out at the front, Remus insisting on paying for everything, which only amounted to about $10. Logan made a fuss, but secretly he was grateful, because he only had a few bucks left until his next payday, and would need to go to the grocery story soon.

Remus toddled along the sidewalk, still hugging the ball, while Logan walked beside him, the plastic bag in his hand holding the rest of the bouncing balls. When they got to the apartment complex, Remus followed Logan up a short flight of stairs and stood awkwardly as the smart kid dug his keys out of his pocket. He opened the door, allowing Remus to go in first, and went inside after. Remus set the ball down gently, glancing around.

The kitchen was small. There was no TV, just a futon with some blankets and pillows on it, a dining table covered in worn books and papers, and two closed doors, one leading to a bathroom and the other to the only bedroom. There were cardboard boxes littered everywhere, with clothes spilling out of them. Logan looked ashamed, but also remained quiet as he set his backpack down on the futon. He fumbled through his backpack to grab his worn notebook.

“...Logan, I–”

“Don’t. Let’s just get this over with,” was the only response he gave. He set up a chart to log height, trajectory, number of rebound bounces, size of ball, and floor type. “Should we start small or big?”

“Uh, big first.”

The two sat cross-legged on the floor in various areas of the room for the next few hours as Remus dropped the balls from a constant height and Logan logged the results. They had set up a perilous tower of books to keep Remus’ phone camera focused on the actions. It was mostly quiet except for the bouncing and the scratching of Logan’s pencil on paper, and he just hoped that Remus wasn’t uncomfortable. He knew that the Creative twins came from a rich family, and he wondered if the jokester had ever been in such a small and worn-down place.

As they were wrapping up their experimenting, Logan’s mother came home, eyes deep set in shadows and hair greasy and mangled. Remus said nothing as Logan explained that they were science partners, working on an assignment, and that he’d be starting their dinner very soon. She just nodded and excused herself to take a shower and a nap.

“What does your mother do for work?” Remus asked, breaking the awkward silence. Logan ran a hand through his hair.

“She’s a nurse during the day, and at night she works at a 24-hour café,” Logan explained. “Ever since my dad died, we’ve lived here. I’ve had to pick up a job as a tutor, and recently I started working at the café, too, to take a little bit of the pressure off of my mom.”

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Remus said gently, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Actually, I’m sorry about… everything. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have suggested someplace else, this is worse than Roman singing–”

“Shut up,” Logan’s voice was wavering. “This isn’t worse. This is my fucking life, Remus, and I’m not ashamed of it. Don’t pity me.” Remus looked down at his feet, ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he sighed. “You deserve better. Everyone in school always makes fun of you for being smart and wearing those dorky clothes. You deserve a better science partner than me, that’s for damn sure.” Logan started to say something but was interrupted by his mom coming out from her bedroom.

“Remus, are you staying for dinner? Logan always makes the most delicious dinners, even though we don’t have much,” She said, sitting on one of the chairs at the table.

“Um, thank you, but I should… probably head home,” Remus didn’t meet her eyes. She frowned and gave a look to Logan, who just nodded. She went back to her room while Logan stood up, heading towards the small kitchenette. Remus watched him carefully. “So… you cook?” Logan smiled, getting the ingredients for his simple soup out from the fridge and pantry.

“My dad was a chef. He taught me everything I know about food, so… yeah, I make all of the food,” He replied. Remus went to join him in the kitchen, and studied Logan’s movements as he cut the vegetables up and put them in the soup pot. “You should stay. So that after, we can accumulate our data and write the report.”

“I don’t want to take what little food you have, though…” Remus’ voice was serious, and it startled Logan, who just shook his head.

“Please don’t worry about that,” he took a deep breath. “I’d… like you to stay. You’re my science partner after all.” Remus sighed, and nodded.

“How can I help?”

-

“This was so tasty, baby. Thank you,” Logan’s mom kissed the top of his head. “I’ve gotta head out to the café now, don’t stay up too late alright? And make sure Remus here gets home safely.”

“I will, Mama,” Logan said. He closed her thermos that he had filled with coffee and handed it to her. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She waved and smiled at Remus and then left the two in the apartment. Remus cleared the dishes from the table and began cleaning them, without saying anything. Logan just helped to dry and put away the dishes, and when their hands met he almost dropped a glass, but he caught it, the red blush coating his face.

“You’re kind of like Wolverine,” Remus said, breaking the silence. “Other than the fact that your name is Logan. You’re strong, and you’ve been through a lot, you’re kinda sexy…” He turned off the water. “You’re like… nerdy wolverine.”

“I don’t know about that–”

Remus didn’t let him argue. He grabbed Logan’s hands which were still holding a bowl and a towel and kissed him, startling the nerdy boy. Logan stumbled back, almost dropping the bowl but he set it down gently, his face bright red and a startled look on his face.

“Don’t! Don’t pity me–”

“Logan–”

“Get out!” Logan threw the towel at Remus’ face. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing–”

“Logan, I’ve had a major crush on you for two years,” Remus said plainly. Logan blinked, a confused look replacing his angry face. “The way you get all excited about science and facts? At the astronomy lesson last month you had this ‘lost in the stars’ expression the whole time. So… I requested to have you be my science partner for this assignment. I wasn’t going to do or say anything but… I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve never liked anyone before, so I don’t know if I can just…”

“It’s okay,” Remus looked down. “I’ll go home. I’m really sorry, Logan. I’ll take the data and write it up, okay? You don’t need to worry.” He started to turn away, but Logan gripped his wrist.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want to, Remus,” he clarified, then sighed. “I just… I’ll need a little bit of time, okay?”

-

The bell above the door jingled as Remus stepped into the small café. He didn’t immediately see Logan, but he sat down at his usual booth, setting his backpack down next to him. Logan’s mom bounded over, a smile on her face.

“Morning, Remus,” she said, pouring some coffee into the mug in front of him. “Lo’s on dish washing duty today, but I’ll let him know you’re here, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. C,” Remus smiled up at her. He pulled a book out of his backpack and began reading, taking occasional sips of his coffee. After about five minutes, Logan’s mom brought over his usual sunny side up egg with some hash browns.

“Another book on reptiles, Remus?” She asked, settling into the booth across from him. “You two really are very similar.” Remus smiled, dog-tagging the page he was on and setting the book down.  He coated his entire plate with ketchup and took a bite.

“Did you know that snakes and lizards use their tongues to smell the things around them?” Remus asked, and she just giggled, sticking her tongue out. He did too, and laughed. She got up after that, doing her rounds, and he settled in deeper to the cushion.

It had been two months since the science experiment. Remus spent all of his Saturdays in the café while Logan was working. He did his homework, read books, and got to know Logan’s mom, who was quirky and silly despite her constant exhaustion. Logan was still hesitant around Remus, though, and he didn’t want to push anything. When they saw each other, Remus would just kiss the smart boy’s cheek. They hadn’t kissed again.

But they spent a lot of time together, and Remus hoped that some progress was being made. They’d study together in Logan’s apartment after school on Logan’s days off, and sometimes Logan would just rest his head on Remus’ shoulder because he was so tired. On Sundays, Logan would go over to Remus’ house, since Remus had a lot of fancy science equipment they could use together.

Every once in a while, Roman would ask what was going on between the two, but Remus would just shrug and say they were friends. He hoped that someday, he could say they were more.

“Hey,” Logan’s clear voice brought Remus out of his deep thoughts. He glanced up at Logan, who slid into the seat across from him, a plate of toast with jam on them in hand. Remus gave him a sweet smile, resting his chin on his hand.

“Hi, Lolo,” he said. “Are you on your break right now?”

“Yeah,” was Logan’s only response as he took a bite of one of the pieces of toast. Remus took a bite of his food as well, and they ate in comfortable silence until Remus felt a foot brush against his own. He raised an eyebrow at Logan, whose face was bright red.

“What’s up?” He asked, setting his fork down with a slight clang. Logan said nothing and kept eating his toast, but with his spare hand he took a folded note out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Remus gave him a confused glance but picked it up, unfolding the paper.

Remus,

There’s a documentary about eels playing at the dollar theater tomorrow. Wanna go?

-Logan

Remus giggled a little, holding back his desire to make an eel-in-his-pants joke. “Yeah, of course, Lolo. Why couldn’t you just ask?” Logan looked down, his face still bright red, and scarfed down the rest of his toast. He took a sip of Remus’ coffee, then cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of nerve wracking asking someone out on a date, okay?” Logan admitted. Remus must have looked startled, because a wave of panic crossed Logan’s face. “I-if you don’t want it to be a date–”

“No, I do, Lo, I just… I’m surprised, is all,” Remus said, giving Logan a bright smile. “I just don’t want you to rush into feeling ready for that…”

“...I’m… ready for that, Remus,” Logan said, looking down again. Remus nudged his foot again, and the two sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of Logan’s break.

-

“...you’re wearing a suit,” Logan muttered, eyeing Remus up and down. He had just opened the apartment door. “Why, exactly, are you doing that?” Remus shrugged, looking down at his own attire. It was a dark green suit.

“It’s our first date, so… yeah.” He blushed a little. “You look nice, Lo. As always.” Logan adjusted his tie, but felt like his polo shirt just wasn’t cutting it anymore. He always wore this, he figured Remus would show up in his usual torn jeans and tank top and leather jacket but no, he just had to show up looking all dapper and smelling like something he’d gotten a whiff of from a magazine once.

“Hang on,” Logan shut the door quickly, leaving a startled Remus on the other side of the door. He frowned a little, but didn’t move from his spot. Logan ran into his mom’s bedroom and flung open the closet, digging until he got to the box of his dad’s old clothes.

When he opened the door again, Remus’ jaw dropped. Logan was in a tweed jacket. LOGAN. WAS. IN. A. TWEED. JACKET. And he had changed out of his jeans into some nice dress pants and from his polo shirt to a button-down. He wore the same tie, but, god, Remus could have tackled him then.

“Lo, you look… fucking beautiful,” He smiled, pulling Logan in for a hug. His lips brushed Logan’s warm cheek, and Logan reached up to wrap his arms around the taller teen. Their lips met briefly, and Remus swore he could sprout wings and fly into the sky. “Okay, seriously though, we should go before I rip that jacket right off of you.” Logan blushed and stepped outside with Remus, then closed and locked the apartment door. Remus laced their fingers together as they walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

-

Logan insisted on buying the tickets for the film since he was the one who had initiated the date, but Remus wouldn’t let him pay for their popcorn and icee. They settled into their seats, the theater almost completely empty save for a few older folks near the middle of the theater. Logan’s leg bounced up and down, and Remus settled a hand on his thigh.

“Sorry, Remus. I’m just… nervous? I don’t know why, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen a movie, but–” He cut himself off, looking down.

“It’s okay, Lo. I’m nervous too. I don’t want to mess this up,” He kept his hand on Logan’s thigh as the lights dimmed and the film started. Logan put the drink holder between them up and leaned into Remus a little. In response, Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer.

They each made little comments throughout the film, but Logan was almost completely enthralled by the smell of Remus’ cologne, and Remus could barely breathe with the way that Logan was pressed up against him. Once the film was over, Remus insisted on walking Logan home, and once again their fingers were laced together as they walked as close together as possible under the flickering streetlights and moonlight.

As they got back to Logan’s apartment, his mother was leaving for her shift at the café. She gave them each a kiss on the cheek as she left, and then the two stood awkwardly in front of the door to the apartment. Logan rubbed the back of his neck.

“You… um… you wanna come inside for a few minutes?” He asked hesitantly. Remus glanced down, but nodded, so the two entered the apartment. They sat on the futon, barely touching, and Logan sighed. “I… I’m sorry. I just feel all tingly when I’m around you, Remus. It’s a good tingly, but… I don’t know how to cope with it.” Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and scooted closer to Logan, his hand once again finding a comfortable space on the nerd’s thigh and his arm wrapping around the padded shoulders of the tweed jacket.

“Tingly is good. I don’t want to push you too much, okay? If I’m doing something you don’t like, please tell me. You mean a lot to me, Lo,” Remus said before kissing Logan deeply. Logan kissed back, enthusiastically pressing himself against the larger man, a hand tangling in his hair. Logan’s other hand trailed under Remus’ jacket coat, making him shiver and pull back. “Lo, seriously, you don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for–”

“Remus, just shut up and kiss me more, okay?” Logan tried kissing him again but Remus stayed out of his reach.

“If we’re going to go any farther we need to discuss it first, please,” Remus’ eyes were pleading, and it took Logan by complete surprise. He figured that Remus would be ecstatic to take things to the next level physically, considering all of the jokes and hints he thought he had been given over the past few months.

“I… I think this is what I want, but how do you know when you’re ready?” Logan asked. Remus took his hands gently and brought them up to kiss each knuckle.

“I’m not so sure myself, Lo. I’ve never… had someone like you. I’ve never done anything,” He admitted, which honestly surprised Logan, and it was evident on his face. “I did say I’ve had a crush on you for years, didn’t I? I could never be with someone else, no matter how tempted I was.”

“...I haven’t either. But I feel like… I could with you. Maybe not today. But… someday?” Logan’s voice was small. Remus smiled and placed a hand on his cheek.

“I like the idea of someday, Lo,” He said, leaning in to kiss him gently. “It’ll be like a science experiment. As time goes by, we might get more and more comfortable but we will have to test the boundaries. We might get things wrong, but… eventually we will figure it out.” Logan smiled, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder. “Until then, we can take things at a snail’s pace.”

“Did you know that some aquatic snails have lungs?”

“No, but did you know that snail mucus could be good for your skin?”

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Hi Zaina UwU may I request “It is so awkward having a crush on a [coworker/classmate].”

With Kimura/Okano being annoying tsunderes for the lols :eyes:

Please make it as crack as possible thank you love you bestie <3

omg I love this 😂 ofc bestie 💕💕

Word count: 1,589 words

“Can you just move over?” Okano growled, trying her absolute hardest to resist the urge to shove her comrade over. Hard.

Kimura glanced at her, clearly annoyed. “Um, can you just shut up?” He made no effort to scoot aside on the bench.

She gave up and threw her arms in the air. “Ugh, I don’t even know why I bother! You’re the worst.”

He stuck his tongue out. “Back atcha.”

Okano defeatedly retreated to the grass, a few meters away. She sat down besides her friends, trying and failing to fight back the heat rushing to her cheeks. “I hate him,” she said sourly.

Maehara looked up at her from his phone. “Mm-hmm.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?!”

“What?” he asked innocently.

Okano eyed him. “You said ‘mm-hmm’,” she replied, imitating his voice.

“Ah. Well, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Kurahashi shoved him gently. “Stop lying to her, Maehara-kun. Yes, you did.”

“What?” Okano’s eyes narrowed.

Maehara pursed his lips, making a hum sound before inhaling. “You and Kimura obviously like each other.”

WHAT??????????

“Wha-” She instantly kicked him in the shin, earning a choked groan from the soccer player. “GROSS! That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said! There’s no way I’d ever like that booger-looking ass gremlin.”

Kurahashi just looked at her, a patient yet conniving sweet smile on her lips. “Then...why are you blushing?”

Okano’s eyes widened in horror at her reflection off of the sunglasses that sat on the grass by them. Oh no...I AM blushing...

No, no, no, no, no, NO!

Without another word, she whirled around and dashed away, her face still heated up.

Unlike his short-tempered partner, Kimura had already accepted his feelings. He disliked them immensely, but knew there wasn’t much anything he could do. 

He’d tried focusing his attention on Kurahashi, to no avail. He’d tried avoiding Okano at every moment possible, but it was hard when they were PE partners and in the same friend group. He also sat behind her...

And now, he’d decided the best course of action was simple. Just be an annoying asshole to Okano. There’s no way he could feel attraction to her if she was yelling at him or kicking the shit out of him.

Or so he thought...

“Urghhh!” He groaned, covering his face with his arms. “Of all the girls in the world, why do I like you?!”

He knew why.

Okano was his partner, his classmate, his friend, and his rival all in one person. Their bond had been building over so much in the past year. No matter how much they bickered, they’d always have each other’s backs.

“Having relationship troubles?” A familiar voice caught his attention and Kimura quickly snapped up in surprise. A very smug Maehara stood by, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed.

“What the fuck-how long have you been there?!”

The soccer player casually examined his nails. “Oh, long enough to hear all your woes.”

Kimura groaned. “Dude why are you so creepy and overdramatic? You seriously stood by that tree, waiting for me to say that.”

“I’m being helpful!” Maehara whined. “Now tell me what’s wrong!”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kimura replied quickly.

“Bullshit. Now have a seat and spill everything to me, child.”

Kimura relented and awkwardly lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged near Maehara, who did the same.

“Fine...” Kimura sighed. “I don’t-I guess it’s just really...weird liking the person I like.”

Maehara hummed, stroking his chin. “And who would that be?”

He glared at him. “You already know, dude.”

“I do not.” He lied.

Kimura rolled his eyes. “It’s Okano. I like Okano, okay?”

“Ah...I see...” Maehara drawled, irking Kimura more and more by the second. “And what exactly is making this hard for you?”

“It’s just so awkward having a crush on a classmate.”

Maehara raised an eyebrow, thankfully dropping the psychologist front for a moment. “Uh, no it’s not. That’s where 95% of teenagers get their crushes, man.”

Kimura spluttered. “Okay, fair. But she’s my classmate, friend, partner, and rival all in one person. I’ve always seen Okano like a bro, but now I like her?”

“Hmm yeah that’s one predicament you’ve got, my friend,” Maehara agreed, running a hand through his hair. “But I know Okano, and the best way you can approach this is just being upfront. Tell her how you feel, be straightforward!”

Kimura eyed him suspiciously. “Will that really work? She might just kick the shit out of me...”

His friend waved him off. “Trust me.”

And so Kimura did.

“Uh, thanks for walking home with me,” Okano said awkwardly, adjusting the hold on her bag. 

You idiot, you probably sound like a weirdo! She screamed internally. But she just wanted to say something to break the silence that had been resting between them for the past five minutes.

Kimura was walking a few feet behind her, his figure lax as his hands rested behind his head in a way that reminded her strongly of Karma. Huh. Maybe chuunis really do rub off on each other, she thought wryly.

“No problem,” Kimura replied, sounding a bit distracted. “I have to stop by the convenience store on my way, anyways. And I know you usually ride your bike so you’re not used to walking alone.”

“Yeah,” she laughed lightly. “That’s true.”

Silence stretched between them once again, but to Okano’s relief, it was more comfortable this time. Some of the old familiarity in their dynamic had returned, as Kimura stuck his tongue out at her playfully when she looked back at him. 

They continued walking until they reached the bridge, surrounded by the noise of cars rushing past them. Okano looked to her left and admired the way the sunset reflected off the water, making it a lovely orange-pink hue. If she was artistic in anyway, she would’ve loved to re-create the image somehow.

“Okano,” Kimura suddenly said, catching her attention. She had to strain a bit to hear it, given the wind swirling past her from the traffic.

“What?” She replied, raising her voice slightly as she turned around to face him.

Kimura, for some reason, was standing a few meters away from her, the colors of the sky lighting up his face. “Okano, I-” Whatever he said next was drowned out by the cars.

“What?” Okano called back, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I said I-” Interrupted again, this time by a particularly large oil truck passing by.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

He opened his mouth again but she made out no words.

“What the hell are you saying?!” She shouted.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I SAID I LIKE YOU!” He screamed back, and she finally heard him.

Oh. So that’s what he was trying to say.

Oh. 

Oh crap.

Okano’s brain froze for a moment as it caught up to her. Then all the blood in her body quickly rushed to her brain, and her face felt like a furnace. “You...what?” she asked in disbelief.

Kimura let out a sharp breath. “I have a crush on you. Okay?”

Oh my god.

She stayed absolutely still, processing it. “Okay...”

Kimura’s eye twitched and he marched right up to her. “Hello? Are you even gonna reply? I just confessed to you, idiot.” He punctuated his words with a flick to her forehead. 

She grabbed his wrist, her reflexes acting immediately. “Back off, stupid! I heard you loud and clear,” she muttered annoyedly.

“So? What’s your answer?” His voice turned slightly whiny, sounding almost anxious. He tried to yank his hand back but Okano kept a firm grip on it.

“My answer...” she started lowly, eyeing him. “Is that I like you too.”

A few seconds passed as Kimura froze, his eyes wide.

“Hello? Are you gonna reply? I just admitted my feelings for you, idiot,” Okano imitated his voice as she repeated his words.

He seemed to snap back to reality as his eyes met hers. “Are you being for real? Like this isn’t a joke?”

Okano scoffed, finally releasing his hand. “No, dumbass. It’s not a joke. I like you,” she said slowly.

“Oh...” He averted his gaze, running a hand through his hair sheepishly. “Cool.”

She rolled her eyes, punching his arm lightly. “Cool? Man, you’re so bad at this romance stuff. Who confesses in the middle of a busy highway section?”

“Okay WOW. To be fair, I thought the sunset and water made it romantic enough.”

Okano laughed. “How was I even supposed to hear you properly?”

“You eventually did!” He retorted and joined her so both of them were laughing together. 

As it died down, Okano leaned against the railing, smiling at the sunset that was burning away into embers as night was soon to approach. “Man...we’re probably gonna be one weird ass couple.”

He joined her, dropping his bag to the ground lightly. “Speak for yourself, weirdo.”

She chuckled. “Korosensei is gonna lose his shit.”

“Maehara too,” Kimura agreed. “Hmm though, he wasn’t a half-bad wingman, I guess.”

Okano turned to him in disbelief. “You took Maehara’s love advice? He of all people really told you to confess on a busy loud bridge?” she snorted.

“Ah no...I took creative liberties on that one,” Kimura admitted, his face slightly pink.

Okano laughed and looked up. “It’s getting dark. We should get back now.”

“Yeah...” Kimura glanced at the time on his phone before picking up his bag again. “Wanna hold hands?” He asked sarcastically with a grin.

“Hold my hand and I’ll throw you over this bridge.”