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real-jane · 3 years

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drifting (4)

[cw!bucky barnes x female!reader]

summary: bucky saves the life of a woman when she’s buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is… or what he’s done.

how long can he hide?

warnings: none.

word count: 2.5k+

series masterlist

***

Three days without much rest is enough to send any man into delirium. For Bucky, it isn’t an unfamiliar gambit. It’s just that he can’t feel his limbs, and his skin has permanent goosebumps so brutal that the slide of fabric feels like it’s catching on needles. He can’t remember how he got outside, or when… or why he’s barefoot, but he comes to when a hand much smaller than his closes around his wrist.

He looks at her, but there’s a spot where her face should be like she’s standing behind smudged glass. He can’t quite make out what she says either, but her tone is elevated, and she’s pulling, and he doesn’t resist. Bucky just follows. Then he’s sitting on the couch, and there’s a quilt tossed over him. And his feet are jammed into boots. Fingers are on his cheeks and he winces away.

“You’re safe.” It echoes between his ears. Safe.

“Rest, Soldat.”

He shudders. Every nerve ending retreats, but he obeys. He closes his eyes, and everything becomes dark.

***

Bucky sleeps for almost twelve hours. She sits vigil in the chair at the end of the couch, and when he starts to get restless, she reads out loud from where he dog-eared The Hobbit. It’s enough to keep him docile. With his eyes shut, he looks peaceful. She takes a photo… for Steve, she tells herself. She sends it to him without a caption or explanation, but she traces the shape of Bucky’s profile on the screen as if he isn’t laying there, a few feet away. He takes a shuddering breath, and she jumps. She’s getting careless, lazy–it's just that he’s practically snoring. Surely constant vigilance can relent for a few hours while the soldier puts down his burden.

Something about sleep deprivation is tearing down the natural wards his brain has built up since being held in captivity, and he’s slipping. If he’s only going to listen to her if she speaks to him like he’s the Asset, then it’s going to make her mission much harder. And he doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like he’s a toddler, either. Rest, little soldier. Fuck.

She lays her head back.

What would Natasha think? Do you what you must, Nat would say, even if she thought she was crazy. Would she look twice at her for lingering with him like she has all the time in the world, and not like there is an expiration for all this? Would she hold off saying something about how being stranded with him must surely be a dream come true after all that time cradling his file–or would she come right out and say it: you’ve been compromised, and it’s going to get you killed. Both of you.

She is languishing. Thank god Bucky isn’t conscious to see it. It’s even harder to hide it when he’s so obliging in his wakefulness, at least when he’s not sleep deprived. She’s ashamed of herself for it. The pang that sits in her stomach. It hit a nauseating level when she woke up and found the front door of the cabin blown wide open, and Bucky standing twenty feet off, staring out into the expanse of glittering white drifts. For just a split second, she worried that he left.

If that happens… she will follow.

His breath catches, jolting her out of her reverie. She stands slowly, propping herself up with the branch she’s been using as a crutch. No sense sitting here and wondering, or making plans for the un-plannable. Better to wash off. Get some sense of normalcy. Stop staring at the side of Bucky’s face and feeling anything.

It’s easy enough to get into the washroom; the room is small, and she uses the walls to keep herself standing. Against her better judgment, she works at the knots in the flannel keeping her leg splinted, and lets the torn fabric pool on the ground. She’d rather have a better look at the damage, and make sure it’s thoroughly cleaned so that she can accurately report back to Steve. She’s quick to snap several photos of the bruised tissue around her shin, but it’s quite… ordinary looking. Still throbs, but the pain isn’t lingering the way it did in the night.

In the thread with Steve, he hasn’t replied to her photograph of his friend from earlier. The screen is blank except for her proof of interception, the rest of their correspondence having expired after the twelve hour limit. There is one message in her queue, but it isn’t from Steve. Time stamped five minutes ago:

Take care, Пчёлка.

She huffs. Of course Steve showed Nat her message. Shouldn’t have sent it except that she wanted Steve to see his friend was alive. Right?

She rips open the drawer below the sink and drops the phone inside. It hits the bottom of the draw with a thud–dampened by a small, leather journal. It’s bound in soft red leather, littered with imperfections and scratches on the cover which have worn into raised scars. Her heart leaps into her throat. With one finger, she pushes her phone to the back of the drawer, and raises the cover of the journal.

The script is jagged and inconsistent, looping back on itself when it lacks clarity, and stopping without punctuation where there’s a question of how to proceed, but the first entry repeats itself twice. The words come in the same order, save a few corrections for the second. It must be Bucky’s. She sits on the lid of the toilet and cradles the journal in her lap. She touches her lips to keep the noise which builds in the back of her throat silent. It could’ve been a sob if she didn’t.

the man knew me i hit him he said i am his friend then he fell i pulled him out of the river he spit out water i left

the man from bridge knew me i hit him he said i am his friend and he fell from plane i pulled him from the river he breathed and i left

She turns the page.

i am james buchanan barnes

my name is james buchanan barnes

That one repeats over and over, for many pages. And the next.

the plum vendor offered me change and i dropped it and she smiled at me

the plum vendor gave me change and i dropped it by accident and she smiled at me

And the next.

And on. And on. The pages are scribbled on every line, in the margins–always with repeating sentences, always in hasty script. She flips until she finds the most recent entry.

Found a woman. She is alive. Broken leg. I did not do it.

Found a woman. She is alive. Broke her leg. I did not do it.

He must have gone over the letters a hundred times with the ballpoint pen. She wonders when he started using punctuation, at what point it struck him to do so. Clearly he’s been lucid for long enough to adapt in his memory recall. Enough that he needed to remind himself that she was not hurt because of him.

A knock at the door makes her yelp. She clasps a hand over her mouth and lays the book back in the drawer as quietly as she can. In haste, she snatches the phone and grazes her hand against the wood hard enough to skin a slight abrasion.

“Yes?” she calls evenly, though her hand aches and she’s fighting back tears of panic and sorrow in equal measure.

“How long was I out?” His voice is gruff. She swipes her hand under her nose and opens the washroom door so she can peek out at him, even as she stashes her phone in the back of her waistband. He is bleary-eyed, but the dark circles under his eyes have relented considerably.

“All day,” she says. He raises both eyebrows and cards a hand through his hair.

“Should’ve woke me up.”

She shakes her head. “You needed to rest, James. You were delirious.”

He fixes her with a narrow stare. “What?”

“Yeah. You were outside without your shoes on,” she huffs. “Like you were sleepwalking, or something. But once you were inside, you closed your eyes and you were down for the count.”

Bucky leans against the doorway–too close for propriety’s sake, but he seems to need something to bolster him. He looks down at his feet, which are still covered in his ragged boots, even though the laces are untied. She follows his gaze.

“Those boots have seen better days,” she says.

“So have I.” Bucky’s eyes flick up to meet hers. His expression is unreadable. He worries the untamed scruff on his chin. “I keep having this weird feeling like I have met you before,” he says. "Is that crazy?"

She swallows hard. “I thought the same thing.”

“Once you weren’t afraid,” he says.

She lets out the breath she’s been holding, after seeing his desperate words in his pained handwriting over and over again in that god-forsaken journal. She doesn’t stop herself from reaching for his forearm, but it happens almost independent of her consciousness. She lays her fingers over his left arm.

“Got over that pretty quick,” she murmurs. “I can see that you’re a good person, Jamie. Anybody ever call you that?”

He snorts. “My sister. Becca. It’s been a while. You must have one of those faces.”

"Huh."

He pats her hand, and she’s reminded that he’s still gloved… has been since the moment he saw her. She wonders what he would do, if she took off the glove which conceals his prosthesis. If he’d jump away, or if he’d let her look up close and turn his hand over in hers, and watch as the plates shifted in his palm with every little pretense of a muscle movement.

“‘M gonna shower. If that’s okay. I’m sure I need it,” she says, feeling her cheeks heat up at the thought of him agreeing with her.

“I’ll do some clothes washing once you’re done,” he says.

She realizes that her hand has slid up to his shoulder, and he’s staring at her with confusion. She retracts her hold on him and nods. “Alright.”

“But. If you want, I can loan you something again. And I can wash your shirt, at least. I think it’s still with your snow pants.”

She nods. Bucky steps into the washroom without asking her to step back, which results in her body being crowded by his torso as he reaches above her head and grabs a bag from the cabinet above the toilet. He fishes out a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, but he winces to hand them over.

“I’m sorry this is all I’ve got–”

“This is really generous,” she says, before he can dissolve into apologies for more than his slim wardrobe options. “More than. I appreciate it so much. Just. Everything.”

“How’s your leg?” He ignores her sentimentality in favor of deflection, but he doesn’t step out of the washroom. He just leans against the sink and folds his arms, leaving her to sit on the toilet to step out of his personal bubble. She does so, and rucks up the leg of the sweatpants.

“Honestly? Way better than I expected. It must not have been that bad to begin with… or your splint was more effective than I realized. Either way, it’s barely even bruised.”

Bucky kneels at her feet to take a closer look. She watches him in wonder. He grasps her ankle like her bones are made of glass, and rests her heel on his knee. Then, his hands are on her skin, even if the touch is blocked by smooth leather, and he’s looking closely. He frowns.

“Could’ve sworn it looked worse than this,” he mumbles. “Well. Good, it looks good.”

“Yeah. I’m relieved it’s not worse. I wish I had my bag, though… god, I don’t even have deodorant,” she says.

Bucky points to the right-hand drawer–opposite of the one with his journal of self-assuredness–and nods. “Some in there.”

“...can I ask you something? And you can feel free not to answer.”

He sits back on his heels, setting her foot on the ground again. She hugs her arms around herself. “You… you take things. Supplies. From other cabins, right? I’m–this is not me judging you, but… you didn’t really plan on being here long, did you?”

He looks down at the ground, cowed immediately, but she reaches out with both hands before she can stop herself and cups his cheeks. “Forget I asked,” she says. “It’s okay. Are you… are you okay, do you need help?”

It takes several seconds for him to do anything else but stare at the floor. But then, he grasps her wrists. Not hard. Loose enough that she could slip her hands from his hold easily.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

She nods, even as emotion chokes her. “I, um. I’ll help. We’re waiting for the snow to melt, anyway… What else do I have to do?” She laughs lightly. “You need to sleep more, for one thing. No more all-night vigils.”

Bucky tugs her hands down so she’ll stop touching his face. “I’ll try.”

“Okay. That’s enough for me. If you need me to read to you about hobbits again, I’ll happily oblige.”

Then, he finally looks her in the eye, with irises so blue they make her own water… with one eyebrow crooked upwards. He huffs. “Thought I was dreaming that.”

“I mean, if you have other books, I can do lots of good voices.”

He doesn’t smile. Not even the facsimile of a grin. But his mouth un-tightens, and for what it’s worth, his expression seems to lighten. He’s at least not actively frowning. He nods to the closet opposite the washroom door.

“There’s a few in there.”

“Good.”

He stands, but his gaze stays settled on her. He shakes his head, apropos of nothing. She taps the watch at his right wrist. Bucky turns his arm so she can read the time. It’s barely five in the evening.

“While you do your washing, I’ll make something to eat. If you're hungry,” she suggests.

He sighs. “Starving.”

She smiles. Because she wants to, and it isn’t a feeling she has to manufacture in her attempt to get him to trust her, and because he’s rested. He’s solid. Maybe not solid, but he’s at least more stable than she’s seen so far, and speaking in full sentences, and that is something worth celebrating.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You can leave what you’re wearing on the floor. I’ll get to it with the rest.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jamie.”

He nods, just once.

Bucky leaves her to it, but it takes her a second to stand again and start the shower, because something flashes across her vision like a lightning strike to the brain. It’s just a moment–the shock of a memory, or something entirely unbidden, but it makes her gasp in pain. She clutches her stomach, tugs her shirt up. There’s nothing there, in the place she saw the metal flash towards her soft belly, but the whole image was red.

Red.

***

Chapter 5

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfction #drifting by real jane

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orphicrose · 3 years

Text

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝙾𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 // 𝙰𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚎

Mʏʟᴏ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : After spending your entire life stuck between walls of pollution and crime in the streets of zaun, you discover an ethereal land. Unbothered by man made structures, and thriving with healthy life. This is the home of the last living horse, your miracle and your best friend. Years of keeping this secret to yourself, you finally decide to let Mylo in on it. Making your bond even stronger.

Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ : no idea but it’s a lot longer than what I was aiming for 🤠🤌

Qᴜɪᴄᴋ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: please please let me know if you find any grammar or mistakes in general. I was exhausted when writing this and if I try proof read it again I’m gonne give myself Permanent writers block ;,)

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚃𝚘 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 - 𝚁𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚆𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗

꧁--------------------------------------------------꧂

After the long day you all had you found yourselves settling in earlier than usual. Powder had passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow, closely followed by vi. Then clagger, who’s snoring easily dimmed out the echoes of distant chatter from the bar above you. Though it didn’t seem to wake anyone.

Mylo lay on his back, hands rested comfortably on his stomach while he stared blankly at the ceiling. He had tried to fall asleep but it seemed to make him even more exhausted. So he stopped and let his mind run wild. Tempted to go and sleep with you on the sofa, but it was too small for the both of you. And god knows how Vander would react when he came in for the nightly check.

Even after the tough work you had been doing all day, you weren’t asleep either. Wrapped up in a thin blanket to protect you from the cold as your body was curled up on the sofa. No possible way of being comfortable. You sat up in defeat, huffing quietly.

“This bloody sofa..” you mumbled, fluffing up the cushion previously stuffed underneath you.

“Can’t sleep either?” The sudden voice made you jump, turning around to see where it was coming from. Only to find Mylo leaning on the wall opposite you with an incredibly tired expression on his face, squinted eyes as he shielded them from the small light from Powders side of the room.

“Difficult to sleep when you can’t get comfortable” you gave out a defeated laugh, resting your head in your hands and yawning.

“I know how that feels.” The weight of the couch shifted as Mylo sat down next to you. Wrapping his arm round your shoulder and pulling you into him as gently as possible.

Minutes had passed with you peacefully cuddled up against him, feeling like mere seconds, when a thought popped into your barely functioning mind.

“Fancy going somewhere?”

“At this time of night?” The tired tone in his voice made it hard to decipher what he was saying, but you where close enough to hear.

“It will be freezing..”

“Come on, I really wanna show you something.”

You had leaned away to be able to see his face, making him huff slightly to feel you leave the embrace.

All he felt like doing was falling asleep with you in his arms, but the cute look of desperation made him give in.

“Okay… okay fine. I’m up.” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head while he sat up.

••• ✈︎ •••

Halfway through your journey to your sanctuary, Mylo had swaddled you with his jacket after noticing the goosebumps appearing up your arm.

“I did tell you it was going to be freezing”

Stars above you where intense, like a bundle of firelights guiding you back home. Ahead was a road full of abandoned buildings, infested with vines. Almost resembling a lost city being taken back by nature. No one had ever gone beyond this point in zaun. Mainly because of rumours and legends surrounding this area. It didn’t stop you though, and if it did you never would have met your noble companion.

Mylo was very comprehensive though, you could feel his energy without even looking at him. His hand found yours, entwining your fingers and hovering very close.

“Are you sure about this?”

You stopped, looking up at his fear riddled eyes and giving him a quick kiss.

“Just trust me” your smile was the thing that reassured him, giving a small nod and continuing your journey.

You came across an old church, the gateway you liked to call it. The once wooden floor was unrecognisable by all the weeds and plants claiming it as a home. Sacred glass windows smashed, reflecting the light from the stars onto your face. It was almost magical, like a home for the fairies. Though you could see why it was abandoned. Mylo thought a ghost was bound to pop out at him at any given moment. The thought alone gave him a rush of nervousness.

You carried on pulling him through the building, stopping at the end of the hallway and giving Mylo another smile before carrying on.

“Prepare yourself”

And the heavy looking door was swung open effortlessly, not giving Mylo a chance to react or turn away.

Revealing a beautiful forest leading to an open field, resembling a mythical land. No matter how many times you came here, your breath was blown away by the glory everytime.

Mylos breath hitched in his throat, not realising you where walking him down the makeshift path through the trees. The colour green had never existed in such a stunning way in his mind before. Seeing a blade of grass was rare let alone this out-of-worldly wonderland.

“Am I dreaming?” He pinched himself, scrunching his nose in pain when he realised it was real. He was alive and experiencing this.

You laughed at him, finding his shock endearing.

“You haven’t even seen the best part yet”

This left Mylo with an almost scared expression, overwhelmed with all the emotions hitting him at once. After spending years growing up in a slum like city, he just couldn’t wrap his head around this. Story’s about trees and blue skies where nothing more than story’s in zaun. And now he was walking through it with the love of his life at his hand.

Finally, you were exposed to the field of magic. Lit by firelights as it glow an illuminating green. Animals of all kinds feasted off the land, unbothered by mankind and thriving through nature like life was intended to do. Trees hung around the area almost replicating a wall, keeping this place a secret to only those who lived within the grass. And the moon sat directly above you like a spot light.

“You doing okay?” You giggled up to the stunned Mylo, still not believing he is awake.

“I-“

Nothing more was able to escape his lips. And to think he almost missed out on this.

Without a second thought, you felt your body being held against his. Arms wrapped around your waist comfortably. You thought he was going to cry, he had never felt so peaceful in his entire life.

“I have no words y/n”

The rapid pace of his heart beating was the only sound audible, other than the gentle sound of crickets croaking in the distance.

“I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a tree before let alone… this.” Mylo used a hand to gesture to the world before you. His breath visible in the cold air.

“There’s more”

You left him questioning, leaving his arms and beginning to feel yourself running across the field. That amazing feeling of freedom rushing over you like cold water.

You knew exactly where you were going, unlike Mylo who cluelessly ran close behind you. Slipping a few times on the watered grass beneath him whe he wasn’t paying attention to where he was running. But more attention to his surroundings. “I’m in one of those fantasy books powder loves” is the only thing he could think about.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Halfway across the open space and you stopped, kneeling down slowly and waving a hand behind you gesturing for him to stop. He soon followed your lead, still confused, and knelt down next to you.

“Why are we down here? You proposing or som-“

He was sharply cut off by you shushing him, putting a finger to his lips and pointing with your free hand to the distance.

His eyes narrowed as he followed the direction you pointed to. Soon widening again after sharing the same view you did.

There she stood in all her beauty and pride.

“Is…is that a-“

“Horse?” You finished his sentence. The excitement you felt was clear in your eyes

“I didn’t know they where real” his jaw was completely slack as you let out a muffled laugh. Slowly beginning to walk towards it, ignoring mylos paranoid warnings.

“It could be dangerous what are you doing?!”

“Y/N!”

Inches away from the creature, she noticed you. Bowing her head down to you to invite you closer. She was more familiar with you than she was the trees that kept her safe.

Her hair was well kept, as it rest upon her strong figure. Almost looking like she was flexing the muscles that rippled in her legs. Colours consisting of grey and black ran through her like one of van goghs paintings.

“It’s okay Mylo” your hand was softly patting her mane, as you called for him. Holding your free hand towards him.

He hesitantly got closer but stopped a few feet behind you. Feeling as though his heart was going to beat so fast it drilled a hole in his chest.

“It looks like it’s going to eat me, y/n”

“It won’t eat you, you baby. She’s a gentle giant” you laughed at him, pulling him by the wrist to get closer.

His body was stiff in his position, yet he followed. Jerking his head back as he came face to face with it. The horses breath was like a gust of wind, sweeping back mylos hair and leaving him with a terrified expression, almost as if a bear had just roared at him.

You guided his hand slowly to her head, not forcefully. Letting him warm up to the unfamiliar creature.

“She won’t hurt you, I promise”

He nodded, swallowing hard as if he was swallowing any fear. And letting his hand be placed on her soft fur. You could see light slowly began to flush his cheeks, realising she really was a gentle giant. The light was soon followed by a smile, lifting his entire face.

“This is amazing…”

You let him have his moment, whilst you rummaged for her reins you kept in a hollow log nearby. Letting out a quiet “ah!” When you find them.

“We aren’t done just yet my naive love” you began putting the reins around her, and threw yourself over her body with little struggle. Since she didn’t have a saddle it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but by this point you where used to it.

“What- what are you doing?” He stumbled back slightly. That confused look on his face yet again.

Without another word, and with a small kick you were off. Letting the horse take control as you leaned forward and held onto the reins, leaving a trail of disturbed firelights lighting up the trail you had just ran through.

Wind dancing through your hair, and forcing your eyes shut. Turning the tip of your nose and cheeks a rosy colour, whilst the horse beneath you ran large circles around the dazed boy. His eyes following its every step, watching the muscles in its legs contract and release. Mesmerised. Till you came to a sudden stop. The horse falling to its back legs as it stood up tall and proud. The noise it let out was almost arrogant.

Mylo said nothing, as you held out your hand to him. Him taking it without a single thought behind his eyes.

Then you were off again. Feeling the grip around your waist tighten and the frightened Mylo bury his head in your neck. His eyes sealed shut, until the glow of the moon shon through his barrier. Catching his attention.

Hesitantly he lifted his head, letting that smile crawl back to his face when he realised how blissful this moment was. How the chances of him being here right now were so slim. Yet here he was.

Your attention was purely on the horse, and the adrenaline you could feel taking over your body. You almost didn’t feel the gentle kiss mylo planted on your neck.

He gave a deep breath when the bitter air hit him, never had he breathed such purely clean air. It felt life changing.

As the horse slowed to a trot, his grip loosened. Becoming a little more confident on the beasts back.

“I’m still convinced I’m in a dream” he rested his head on your shoulder again. Snuggling into you as his tiredness caught up to him.

“Welcome to wonderland”

꧁--------------------------------------------------꧂

@mylo56 thank you so much for this idea. It really gave me a burst of inspiration ^^

#im so tired #I’ll go to sleep now #fanfiction #one shot #mylo x reader #mylo arcane #arcane lol #fluff #wholesomeness #x reader #this was fun to write ngl

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itsallmightbitch · 3 years

Text

Hell Week

Where have I been you ask? Recovering from the moment I found out that All Might’s middle finger is 6.2 inches long- that’s where. Jesus Lord I haven’t stopped sweating since.

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Choking, Daddy kink, slight Praise kink and semi-public sex. Minors- even though I can’t make you not interact- I can come to your house and tell your mother and I want you to picture how that interaction would go down. I’ll show her your browser history I swear to God-

Word Count: 11,000+

Summary: Exam season had finally rolled around at U.A. and had been lovingly dubbed Hell Week by every long suffering member of staff there. All Might didn’t think it would be that bad- until it starts to get in the way of him doing one of his favourite activities.

Namely you.

*as always, the gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate for the story O_O

You hated Hell Week but then... so did everyone.

Those were the first thoughts you had when you stepped into the lecture hall on a sunny Monday morning. Desks upon desks, lined in neat rows, filled the room from front to back- each one with it’s own face down paper on top.

It was exam season. It was exactly like flu season but with far more suffering.

There was however, one very faint light at the end of the tunnel and it was the only reason you weren’t hopping a plane to some far away country and hiding there until this was all over. All Might, the big lovable dork, had zero idea of what was about to hit him. He’d only been teaching at UA for just under a year- missing the last exam season but just in time for this one.

He’d been fucking you just a little bit longer than that but in all the time you’d been seeing him, you’d never brought up just how horrible it was.

By the time you made it across the room, the door was opening again and sure enough, All Might ducked under the doorway to the lecture hall looking far more put together than he had when you’d left him that morning. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him as he’d sprawled out across your bed- his skinny frame taking up just as much room as his muscular one did.

He was such a bed hog, you thought, a smile tugging at your lips.

Looking far too cheerful for this time of the morning- and clearly oblivious about what was to come- he slipped through the desks and headed straight for you. Even though his eagerness to see you made your heart thump harder in your chest, you couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped either.

He was simply awful at hiding your relationship. The only reason you hadn’t been outed to the whole school yet was because you were a little more restrained than he was.

Well... that and you told Hizashi to stop fucking prying into your business with such heat in your voice that anyone within earshot had decided to comply too and had left you both alone.

Still, the fact that Toshinori couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t stop himself being near you all the time… it brought to life the butterflies that had made a permanent home in your stomach. So much for it being just sex.

That had gone out of the window long ago.

“Good morning,” he rumbled, finally next to you and you grinned up at him affectionately. His tie was crooked- the only indication that he’d woken up a little too late for comfort and slept through the alarm you’d set before you’d left for work. Glancing around, you found that you were alone with him and so you reached up, straightening the knot and smoothing the material flat against his solid chest.

“Hi,” you answered at long last and it was the only thing you had time to say before his lips found yours for a kiss.

You melted into it. There hadn’t really been much time for kisses lately. Between hero work and exam week prep, you’d both been exhausted and the only reason he’d even stayed over the night before was because he’d graciously offered to help you mark homework and lighten the load. You’d fallen into bed and slept deeply without even a thought of doing anything else- which was admittedly unusual for you both. Despite long work days and how tired his injury made him, Toshinori was insatiable when it came to you.

Not that you were bragging or anything but… well. Look at him. You were goddamn blessed.

“I missed you this morning,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with those deep, pretty eyes of his. A shiver of lust made it’s way through you and you were suddenly sorry you hadn’t gone through with your plan to wake him up before you’d left. He’d just looked so damn sweet with his face buried in your pillow, snoring softly, that you’d decided to leave him be.

You graced him with a winning smile.

“Didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, glancing towards the double doors at the back of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching and you knew he could too, by the way his eyes followed your line of sight seconds later. “You looked like you needed the sleep, baby.”

He flashed you a grin, his eyebrows raising in an expression you knew all too well. All Might was horny and he wasn’t afraid to let you know about it- despite the sounds of other people getting ever closer. Arousal made your stomach dip low and you shivered involuntarily.

A big, warm hand curled around your waist and you were suddenly tugged closer until you were plastered against him, your hands pressing flat on his hard chest.

Oh yeah, you thought smugly.

This man was hot for you and your eyes mindlessly followed the path his tongue took over his teeth, coming to a stop on the point of his canine. The hand that was on your waist slid lower, to the small of your back and then across the curve of your ass until his fingers slipped ever so lightly to press between your legs.

The noise you made was highly inappropriate for the workplace but fuck, when he acted like this it drove you to the point of losing any inhibitions you would normally have.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to that timbre that had talked you into doing absolutely unspeakable things with only a few, encouraging words. “As many times as you want, for as long as you want.”

You bit your lip, a grin threatening to break through.

“Oh Toshi,” you cooed, patting his chest sympathetically. He was absolutely oblivious to the horror that was about to hit him square in the face.

The doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open with a metallic thunk and within seconds you had escaped his grasp to stand at an appropriate distance, laughing inwardly at his puppy dog head tilt. His thick eyebrow quirked in question and you shot him one last pitying look. “You have no idea what you’re in for this week, do you?”

You almost felt guilty for not elaborating and you had no doubt that he’d get revenge on you in some way, shape or form in the coming months. But for now you left it vague- left him looking confused but unable to question you as Aizawa and Nemuri approached with a line of sullen looking teenagers behind them.

He wouldn’t have the time or energy to breathe this week, let alone do anything remotely athletic in the bedroom.

It wasn’t called Hell Week for nothing.

It was Wednesday. You were tantalizingly close to the end of the week but also far too far away from it.

Brushing against Toshinori while you passed each other in the aisle- supposedly observing the students as they scribbled away- was the most action either of you had gotten for days now. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose exactly, but the big jerk made it a point to touch you every time. Brushing his hand against yours. A palm on the small of your back as he gave way and let you through- so gentlemanly to any observer but the tension in his touch was a dead giveaway.

The way his eyes darkened and he exhaled impatiently through his nose, almost as though if he opened his mouth he would say something entirely inappropriate. He wasn’t being chivalrous in his head in the least.

He was thinking about fucking you and hard.

It eventually got to the point that you couldn’t resist.

Teasing him was just in your nature and every little innocent touch as your bodies passed so close was driving you insane. So as you passed him by at the back of the room, as far away from prying ears as possible, you whispered-

“I’m so fucking wet for you right now.”

- so softly that it could have been nothing at all. He heard you just fine though and you felt his whole body tense like he was being electrocuted.

You carried on, grinning to yourself smugly as you did and all the while Toshinori stood like a statue- eyes wide and lips parted like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard come out of your mouth. He glanced back at your retreating form, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.

Oh yeah, you had royally pissed him off.

And turned him on.

Terribly proud of yourself, you went back to being an excellent teacher and leaned over to help an impatient Bakugo- who had run out of paper for his final question and by the looks of it, fucks to give too. Honestly, same.

It took a couple of minutes for you to grab some extra paper at the front of the room and reassure the kid that his answer was on the right track, as vaguely as possible of course- so by the time you were about to make another pass of your boyfriend, you’d almost forgotten what you had said the last time.

He clearly hadn’t.

“Phone.”

That was all he said as he passed you, his lips quirking at the corner and by the time you were at the front of the room with your back away from prying eyes, you were itching to know what he’d meant by that.

You hadn’t felt your phone buzz in your pocket- although you had been distracted up until now and it was likely it had gone off without you noticing. Although you also hadn’t seen Toshi with his phone out either, unless he was being extra sneaky.

Which at this point, you wouldn’t put past him.

Sure enough, there it was on your screen. A message notification from ‘The Big Guy’. You smiled and despite your better judgement, you opened it in front of fifty or so quiet, focused students. After all, what could it possibly be other than maybe a little dirty response to what you’d whispered to him earlier?

When your joined chat opened at last, the noise you made wasn’t human. It caught in your throat and when a few of the kids looked up in confusion, you had to pass it off as a cough before they began to ask questions.

Questions like, why are you turning that shade of red? Or, why did you just make a noise like a dying swan?

All Might, that lovable, sweet, smiling number one hero, was leering at you from the back of the room- his grin absolutely filthy.

When you were satisfied that the kids were focused on their exams again, you stared at the picture he’d sent you, face flushing hot.

When the fuck had he even taken this?

The photo was taken from a very low angle, his expression in the background much like the one he was wearing right now as he watched you- except his cheeks were a little pinker. He was wearing his hero costume, reclining on what looked like the bed in his apartment with one hand gripping the headboard behind his head.

The picture of relaxation and innocence.

Except his outfit was splayed open and his cock was jutting out from it proudly. You could see the fucking precum beading on the head, all shiny in the low light and you were practically drooling over your phone when it buzzed again.

“Shit-” you hissed, jumping and almost dropping it. That would have been sensational. A picture of All Might’s cock sailing majestically across the floor for all the students to see.

You hurriedly scrolled down to read what he’d messaged you.

‘You looked a little flustered. Everything okay?’

The bastard had even attached a winking emoji to the end of the text and you were both pissed off that he’d gotten the better of you and impressed that he’d taken such a fucking great nude. Then had the courage to send it to you, whereas months ago he would have chickened out and complained about you seeing the scar across his side.

With embarrassingly shaky fingers you managed to type out a reply, not even able to stay mad.

‘Baby, no lie. You should wear every outfit like that’, you responded, chewing on your bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile off your face. ‘Crime would drop to an all time fucking low’.

Carrying on your route again, you watched him from your peripheral as he innocently took his phone out to read your response, so nonchalant and cocky.

After a moment of reading, he barked a loud laugh that turned a few heads, before turning pink and muttering an apology to the students he’d just disturbed.

You nudged him playfully the next time you passed each other, winking at him and then feeling incredibly pleased with yourself when he grinned and shook his head- clearly enjoying the moment that had passed between you in full view of everyone.

But, despite the thrumming sexual tension that crackled between you both for the rest of the day, by the time you got home there was only half an hour in which to change into your hero outfits and stare longingly at each other before going your separate ways for the evening.

You were taking a fucking vacation this time next year and Nezu, the little sociopath, could pry your holiday hours from your cold, dead hands.

“On your knees. Now.”

Caught by surprise, you spun around in what you had thought was the empty auditorium- only to come face to chest with your very tall, very haggard looking boyfriend.

“Huh?” you said stupidly, because the request wasn’t quite what you’d been expecting him to say. Not that you’d expected anyone at all to still be wandering around when the weekend and sweet, sweet freedom was calling.

It was Friday and the last exam of Hell Week had finished an hour ago- a moment you’d both been looking forward to since the first set of exams had started. In fact, the way the other teachers had all but sprinted past the kids on the way out- you guessed that you and Toshi weren’t the only ones who had been willing this week to end.

Toshinori had quickly figured out that he was not in for an easy work week as he’d first thought and the mounting pressure of grading papers, comforting stressed teenagers at all hours of the day and attempting to not have a breakdown had taken it’s toll.

Every night, you’d both crawled into bed at some ungodly hour after midnight, exhausted from grading and the ever persistent hero work that took up a good chunk of your evenings. On top of all that, you knew Toshinori was still sneaking off every lunch time to get in a training session with Midoriya- and not eating anything the entire time either.

You’d begun to sneak Midoriya lunches to share with his mentor just to make sure your boyfriend was at least getting something through the day and not neglecting himself as he always did.

Then, you’d been over compensating with dinner and as a result had even less time to do anything remotely relating to a relationship.

The only time the two of you had been close this week was when you woke up extra early for cuddles and even they couldn’t last long when the alarm would start to blare.

All that and the pent up sexual tension meant that when Toshi told you to get on your knees with that ravenous look in his eye, your panties were soaking in seconds. However, there was still a little, itty bitty part of you with some common sense left at least and you glanced around the room before giving him a pointed look.

“Babe, I know this week has been rough but is this really a good idea? What if someone comes?”

You heard it the moment it left your lips and when you looked at his expression it was full of barely repressed mirth, his shoulders already shaking. He could be so immature sometimes. You rolled your eyes, despite your own smile spreading on your face.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“You think anyone, student or teacher is going to want to look at this room again before Monday? The only reason I’m still in it is because all I’ve been thinking about, all day, is you sucking my cock sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he rumbled in that deep, sexy baritone that he brought out whenever he wanted something from you.

The one you found it impossible to say no to.

His fingers trailed over your cheek and he took the moment of weakness in your resolve to swoop down and kiss you hard.

You’d barely even had a moment to kiss this week and so the second his mouth was on yours, common sense was tied up and gagged. Horny you was now in charge and fuck, your boyfriend was looking fine today.

It took no more persuasion for you to drop to your knees in front of him and when you looked up at him, impossibly tall as he was, his cheeks were pink and his eyes dark. He probably thought it would have taken a lot more persuasion than that but what could you say?

Getting dicked down in the school was on your bucket list anyway and right now you imagined that it was hastily being added to his as well.

“If anyone catches us, I’m leaving the country,” you muttered, taking another cursory glance around. This position was incriminating enough should someone walk in- and you weren’t even doing anything yet. Imagine the scandal if someone caught you blowing All Might- paragon of virtue and strength- in the middle of your workplace.

It was almost enough to make you stand back up again and put a stop to the whole thing but then he went and palmed the very obvious erection that was straining against the front of his pants and all you could suddenly think about was licking him from top to bottom.

“I won’t let anyone catch us,” he said reassuringly. He pointed to his ear as though you’d forgotten about the whole, excellent hearing thing. You snorted.

“Toshi, no offence but when we’re in the middle of sex a bomb could go off under the bed and you wouldn’t hear it.”

He looked momentarily offended before his expression dropped into a sheepish smile, one big hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He knew you were right. Once he got into the zone there was no stopping him. It was kind of sweet, how intense he became. Even if you weren’t playing a game and just having some nice, lazy vanilla sex, he would get all possessive and serious and pull you in close to gaze into your eyes like it was the end of the world-

You only realized you had spaced out when he spoke again and you snapped back to reality with a rising flush on your face.

“Heh, I guess you’re right. But I promise, I won’t let anyone sneak up on us. You can count on me,” he beamed down at you and that promise alone was enough to make you relax and nod your consent.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the air in the room suddenly shifted, turning electric and leaving you both buzzing with the knowledge that you were about to do something very naughty.

Finding out that Toshinori was as kinky as you had been a bit of a shock at first. You’d expected him to be a the kind of guy who was insanely careful with his strength and as a result, gentle in bed. The sort of man who would whisper sweet words of encouragement to you and treat you like a princess the whole time.

While there were times he did just that, imagine your surprise one night when he’d grabbed the back of your neck and told you to be a good girl and suck his dick. Ever since then, it had been one wild ride with you never quite knowing what he was going to do next.

Afterwards, he’d quite shyly admitted that he’d never been entirely comfortable with letting anyone see that side of him.

So he’d kept it hidden just in case.

You nuzzled your nose against the straining bulge at the front of his pants, whining for him. Toshinori quirked an eyebrow at you, petting your head lazily.

“Look at you,” he murmured, sounding undone already. “You’re always so eager for Daddy’s cock, huh?”

It was no secret that it ruined you when he said things like that. Sweet, lovable All Might had an absolutely filthy mouth in bed and it turned you on every time he brought it out. His thick fingers trailed down your cheek, while his other hand slipped his loose tie from his neck with a snap.

“You know, everything you do turns me on,” he mused, his head cocked to one side as he stared down at you. His voice was like butter and you felt your thighs quiver. “It’s almost as though you know what you’re doing. Do you enjoy it? Knowing that all you have to do is look at me and I’m hard as a rock in seconds?”

You nodded, a little too eagerly.

“What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” you breathed, excitedly. Because you already knew what he was going to do. A muscle in his jaw ticked

This week had royally sucked and there was only one thing that was going to improve it. His mouth quirked at the corner despite the stern demeanour he was aiming for. That mouth had done some damn fine things to you in the past and you didn’t doubt that it would keep going in the future.

A pleasant feeling of wetness spread slowly but steadily between your legs.

Your lips parted, soft puffs of breath warming the front of his pants. His cock was so close and you wanted it, wanted to take him into your mouth and give him a front row seat to just how much you enjoyed sucking him off.

In public no less.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed, noticing how impatient you were.

Suddenly, the soft silken material of his tie was being wrapped around your throat and knotted. He twisted the other end and wound it around his fist, giving an experimental tug.

When it tightened ever so slightly, you moaned. It was nowhere near tight enough yet but you could already imagine it digging in and making you choke. Fuck, being choked- controlled like this shouldn’t have sent sparks dashing across every nerve ending- but it did and you tugged back to tighten it a little bit more.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to get on with things. The material around your throat was just tight enough to remind you who was in control here and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the outline of his cock.

He grunted, pleased.

“Okay, you know the rules sweetheart. Red if you want to stop. Yellow if you need a second to breathe. Green if everything is fine. What’s our safe word?”

“Toshi,” you breathed, exasperated but not overly so. “I know the safe word. We’re on a time limit here baby.”

“Humour me,” was his firm, no nonsense answer and he gave you a look that meant he wasn’t messing around. He wanted to be sure that you knew it.

You nodded. You were both experienced enough now that he didn’t really need to repeat the rules every time but it was sweet that he did anyway. Usually he would go above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable when you played like this and despite being on something of a time limit, now was no exception.

It was also just one of the many reasons that the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing had never worked out between you two. He was just too damn good to you.

Any limits you had tried to impose between each other had quickly dissolved until you were both forced to admit that you wanted more than just sex. Not that you were complaining at all.

A quick, forceful tug on your makeshift leash brought you back to reality and you finally laughed, “Okay, okay! Watermelon.”

It only took a little guffaw on his part to trigger more of your own dumb laughter.

You both giggled to yourselves at the absurdity behind that word- a shared story of absolute shame, embarrassment and too much tequila that must never be told again. Why he’d insisted on it being your safe word you would never know but it was clear by now that you had trouble saying no to him.

He beamed down at you, all starry eyed and you were well aware that you expression mirrored his. Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, you nuzzled against him, nosing at the zipper of his slacks and making an impatient noise.

In a split second, his eyes darkened like he suddenly remembered where you both were.

Auditorium.

U.A.

A very big possibility of getting caught doing something incredibly naughty. You sobered, partly because of the thrill of danger thrumming through your veins. Partly because the number one hero was staring down at you, tie in hand and looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat you whole.

“So,” he rumbled, voice like thunder in the sky, sounding miles away from his usual cheery self and more like a teacher about to dish out some serious punishment. “Are you going to keep me waiting? I’m getting impatient sweetheart.”

No, you thought hazily, feeling your knees tremble and your clit throb in time with your racing heart. You would definitely have to do something about that. So you shook your head enthusiastically.

“Good girl,” he praised and you immediately felt a headrush, your fingers clenching tightly in the material of his slacks. “Now, take Daddy’s cock out for him,” he said and the words left no room for argument. Hah. Like you even would. Trailing your fingers across the front of his zipper, you were more than happy to do as he asked.

You undid the button with shaking fingers and then down came the zip, bit by bit until you could push both sides wide apart. Dipping your hand into his now open pants, you felt his gaze boring into the top of your head- intense and heated as he watched you do as he said. At last, you wrapped your hand around the thick shaft of his cock and tugged him out. He hissed softly as it met the cool air of the room.

All you could think was finally.

He was just centimetres away from your face, all thick and solid- the tip leaking beads of precum that drooled down to where your fingers were on him. You wanted to lick them up, taste him on your tongue but you didn’t dare move because he hadn’t told you to yet.

“Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asked and you felt sudden relief that this wasn’t about to go to waste.

“Can I lick you? Please,” you managed to say through heavy breaths and a groan caught in his chest. He wasn’t exactly immune to dirty talk and he’d admitted to you once that hearing you talk like that made him hard. Honestly, you didn’t think he could get any harder.

You could feel the thrum of his blood pumping, making his cock pulse in your hand.

He gripped himself at the base and you let go, albeit reluctantly, when he tugged on his tie. Moving himself forward a little, he rubbed the head across your lips and you desperately wanted to open up and take him in but you refrained.

“Mouth open. Tongue out,” he said, his voice strained and you obeyed.

Red flushed across your cheeks when his gaze trailed over your face and he groaned, fist tightening around the tie in his hand. He rested the head of his cock on your tongue for just a moment, watching the precum continue to bead out- sliding down into your mouth now instead of being wasted.

You made an impatient noise that, were you both at home with plenty of time, wouldn’t have gone unpunished- but time was of the essence here.

Sort of.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he said after an agonizing moment of simply staying still. Wetness was spreading between your legs, warm and slick and the ache that accompanied it was intense. “You really do look amazing like that.”

Toshi pressed further into your mouth, revelling in the hot wet heat that welcomed him.

He was big and you had to relax your jaw a lot to take him inside but you were more than used to it- seeing as one of his favourite activities was watching you go down on him. He kept going until he was barely brushing the back of your throat and he gave himself a squeeze as though to keep himself in check.

He let go then and trailed his thumb down, across your bottom lip and chin before pulling away completely.

“Now suck me off,” he ordered, an edge of strain to his voice.

You did just that, eager to please him. The tie tightened again around your neck- probably involuntarily as you went to town- but it still spurred a strangled moan out of you that vibrated through his cock.

He grunted your name, his hips bucking. You could tell that he was restraining himself though, considering you hadn’t been thrown clean across the room.

You hollowed your cheeks and dragged upwards, using the flat of your tongue on the underside of him.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he moaned. “Just like that. You’re so good for Daddy. So hot,” he said mindlessly, a string of incoherent thoughts just spilling from his lips as he got lost in the pleasure of your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you could put him in this state just with a blowjob.

“You’re perfect baby,” he sighed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling of the hot, wet suction on his cock. You traced a line along the vein that protruded from the length of him with the point of your tongue and saw his thigh muscles twitch hard.

Your body sang in response. It had taken you so long to bring him out of his shell at the beginning of your relationship and now here he was- getting sucked off in the middle of an auditorium, singing your praises out loud for anyone to hear.

From convincing him that your age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest, to coaxing him into being a little rougher in bed, it had been a long road, getting him to open up about his likes and dislikes. Getting him to put his trust in you. Making him believe that you wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t walk away because he had a kink you didn’t like.

But in the end, all of your kinks had actually aligned.

Choking, domination, praise-

The day you’d accidentally called him Daddy for the first time, though… Oh that had been something else.

You had been riding him on the living room floor, setting an almost punishing pace that would leave you both spent for the rest of the day. Somehow, you had convinced him to keep the curtains open- the thought of getting caught thrilling you down to the bone even though he’d looked intimidated at the implication.

Although he’d insisted that you be on top and had even smoothed down his hair to try and stay out of sight and that had made you giggle- the thought of the headlines the next day should you get caught.

Breaking News! All Might’s Dick Just As Big As We’d Expected! Lucky Woman Found Unconscious At Scene!

Your knees had been red and sore from the rug underneath you but you’d been so mindlessly set on coming that you’d barely noticed.

His fingers were digging hard into your hips and the moment you’d started bouncing in his lap, his sense of privacy had gone and he was into it- encouraging you to roll your hips, pressing your tits together to push his face between them and spurring you onwards with an absolutely filthy monologue.

You stood by the fact that it had not been your fault. Especially when he’d started with the whole, ‘you’re such a good girl’ shit. You had been close- so close and he’d been panting your praises and the damn words had slipped out without you meaning them to.

A broken, stilted sob of-

“Fu-uck yeah, harder Daddy!”

You’d continued for another three seconds- full porn star mode activated- until you’d realized what you’d just said and all movement had ceased. Apart from the slow raising of your head to look him in the eye, deer in headlights meets startled rabbit, neither of you made a motion to continue.

“Um… I- Sorry, it just slipped out,” you’d said sheepishly, body still thrumming from the thrill of saying it out loud and from the orgasm that had been tantalizingly close. He still hadn’t spoken, lips parted as though he wanted to try but was failing spectacularly. “It’s okay if you aren’t into it baby!” you had continued hastily. “If you want we can just forget about it-”

“No!” he’d said, finally finding his voice at long last. His hips had snapped upwards, rattling your brain and driving his cock inside again with a new, energized rhythm. “No, no, no… Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it,” he’d rumbled, burying his face against your neck, pressing hot, desperate kisses to your skin. “You can say it again if you want.”

Who the Hell were you to argue with All Might when he was asking you to do that?

After that, the age difference, the scars he bore, the kinks you both shared- it all felt much more open. There was a newfound easiness to your relationship. You felt like you could share anything with him and vice versa and because of that, you swiftly discovered that Toshinori was kinky as Hell.

And just as repressed.

He didn’t dare share those parts of himself before because if they were ever repeated to newspapers or reporters, he would face inevitable ridicule from the general public because he was put on such an untouchable pedestal. It had greatly upset you that because of who he was and what he put on the line every day, he wasn’t allowed to be himself even in private.

But he’d never trusted anyone, he told you then, the way he trusted you.

At the thought of him saying those words to you, you groaned, mouth full as you slid him inside as far as you could. His head snapped back up to stare at you, his lips parting and a throaty moan slipping out. You rolled back, bobbing your head in an easy rhythm and with each downwards stroke, you took him in further.

Drool made him slick and shiny and easy to take, but you still had to grip his thigh for support the further you went. Once again, the tie around your throat tightened. It was just tight enough now to start making itself known- start to be worrying but the mere feel of it was making your clit throb painfully between your legs.

You wanted more.

You wanted him to choke you with it.

Breathing through your nose now, you let your throat relax and finally took him in as far as you were physically capable. Your wish abruptly came true and the feeling of the head of his cock pressing down the back of your throat, coupled with the tightness of the tie, made you gag around him.

Toshinori swore, loudly, half in pleasure and half in concern.

But when he made to pull out of your mouth, the hand that had been gripping his thigh found his ass instead and you refused to let him go. You made a noise of protest and he stopped moving altogether, his stuttering hips trying desperately not to buck into you and make it any worse.

You had to make a conscious effort to ignore your gag reflex, dropping your head forward to take him in again- albeit a little more carefully than before. Just before he could hit the back of your throat, you slowed down to a crawl, working him in further without making your body panic.

The sensation wrenched a full body shiver from him, his breath heaving in his broad chest.

“That’s my girl,” he praised fervently, his cheeks hot and the muscles in his abdomen fluttering and twitching. “You’re the best little cocksucker ever, aren’t you darling?” You absolutely would have answered if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied. His words were turning you on, making you desperate for an orgasm but your hands were far too busy on him to think about touching yourself.

He would take care of you later, no doubt. So for now, you concentrated on bringing him to the edge.

Now, usually you weren’t one to blow your own horn but in this case, you would openly and quite proudly admit that you had a knack for getting him off. Especially with your mouth. You’d never given a blowjob with quite as much enthusiasm as you did when it was with him and it was like he knew that.

He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling above you and making the already straining buttons of his shirt even tauter as his muscles flexed.

Such was your enjoyment of his reactions that the fact that you kept choking on the tip of his cock was only a mild inconvenience. He tasted hot and salty on your tongue, precum mixing thickly with your saliva and escaping from the corner of your mouth.

He grit his teeth, a growl half mingled with a moan dragged from his throat at the sight.

He caught it halfway down your chin with a swipe of his thumb and then tugged on the tie around your neck. Reluctantly, you released him- silently proud of the slick, dark pink throbbing mess that you’d left him in. Your jaw ached, yeah, but it wasn’t unbearable and it quickly eased now that he wasn’t in your mouth any more.

You parted your lips in anticipation of his thumb- assuming he wasn’t going to let you waste anything.

“Uh-uh, lips closed sweetheart.”

You raised your eyebrows, amused at his hungry expression and did as he said. But not before biting your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it to leave it redder than it had been. His shoulders dropped when he heaved a pleased, wanting sigh.

“Absolute tease,” he murmured fondly, before smearing the come and saliva across your closed lips to make them shiny.

Before he could move his hand away, your tongue darted out to catch him and he humoured you instead of giving you a warning tug on the tie. He pressed his thumb between your waiting lips- still sticky with precum and saliva and the groan that he released when you swirled your tongue around him was sinful.

A full body tremor ran from your toes to your fingertips and he noticed- because this was All Might and he noticed everything. His lips tugged upwards in a devastatingly attractive smirk- the kind you would see on a villain’s face in the heat of battle.

It was so unusual, but fuck did it look good on him.

Your palms flattened on his muscular thighs, sliding upwards and drinking in the warmth radiating from him under your fingertips. More than anything you wanted to pull his pants down further- feel his skin under your hand but he was calling the shots and you didn’t dare. There was also the fact that if anyone were to walk in they would get an eyeful off his bare ass and no-one was allowed that privilege but you.

He smoothed his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face in his massive hand and tilting your head up to look at him. Honestly, you must have looked like a disaster zone.

Cheeks red with arousal, practically panting, lips parted in anticipation.

That only seemed to turn him on more. His eyes flashed with lust and his tongue darted out and what you wouldn’t give right now to be able to read his mind. When he took his hand away to grip the base of his cock, you whined pathetically. You didn’t really know what you wanted though and right now you didn’t have the words to actually vocalize it either.

Did you need to come? Absolutely.

Did you also need to have his cock back in your mouth? Yes, with a capital Y.

Not to mention the tie was going a little slack and you were beginning to miss the tightness around your throat. A thought quickly crossed your mind that made you clench your thighs, shivering under the pulse of arousal that washed over you. You wanted his hand around your throat instead.

Toshinori cocked his head to the side, still stroking himself.

You tugged on his pinstripe slacks and then pitched forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the shaft of his cock- sloppily almost missing and kissing his fingers too. You were shaking, trembling with the sweet ache and you desperately needed something to take the edge off.

“Colour?” he asked, tugging you away gently by the tie.

“Yellow,” you breathed, clit throbbing with tension that you couldn’t do anything about and your body tightly thrumming.

He seemed genuinely surprised by your choice, though the silken material around your throat went slack almost immediately and he took a swift step away from you- giving you the space that you didn’t actually want. All you really wanted was an opportunity to talk openly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took in your dishevelled state- as though he was seeing what he’d done to you clearly for the first time. “Is the tie too tight? Do you need some water or-”

You waved him off with your hand, trying to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. Your throat was dry sure, but not for the reason he was thinking. Goddamn this man and the things he did to you- whether he meant them or not.

“No- No Toshi,” you answered, breathlessly, chest heaving. “I’m fine, I just- Please, I want your hand instead of the tie.”

The only indication that he was surprised by the request was a quirk of his eyebrows.

“Oh,” he snorted softly, his cock bobbing back and forth with every movement he made. Your gaze zoned in on it, lips parting almost expectantly despite still being on a momentary time out. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“You know me better than that, Toshi,” you admonished, tugging at his slacks again. When he didn’t move, a pleading whine caught in your throat.

“M’ waiting sweetheart,” he sing-songed lightly and you shivered from head to toe as the game began again. The tie drew taught, almost too quickly as his excitement got the better of him. A strangled gasp cut off in the air as you looked up at him, wondering how he seemed so composed while you were basically reduced to pieces on the floor.

“Please, Daddy,” you pouted, impatient but still willing to give him what he wanted.

The words and the sight of you, basically begging on your knees, urged him into action and any further teasing he might have been considering was abandoned. You both needed to come, that much was clear and drawing it out any longer wasn’t helping either of you.

Long, powerful fingers curled around your throat and your pussy throbbed as though an electric current had passed between you both. Granted, from the way he was staring at you as he ducked down to reach you, it might as well have.

You were pliant and easily led, rising to your feet with the barest hint of a tug. You wrapped a hand over his wrist to steady yourself, thrilled when as usual, your fingers didn’t stand a chance of meeting around it.

He squeezed and your legs quivered, a tremble wracking your thighs.

His other hand had abandoned the tie now and instead swept up over your thigh as he walked you backwards. You hit the desk with a bump but Toshinori didn’t give you more than a second to get your bearings. He leaned past you and despite the mess you would have to clear up before you both went home, he swept one big arm across the surface of the desk to clear it for you.

Everything scattered in a wide arc but you were much too busy lifting yourself up to sit on the edge, your boyfriend’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around your neck. His hand was so damn big that his fingers actually met around the circumference and knowing that did little to quell the heat in your belly.

“Baby,” you muttered needily but Toshi was already sweeping forward to kiss you- all tongue and teeth and he really didn’t seem to care that you probably tasted of his own cock right now because the way his tongue pressed and licked at your own was almost obscene.

You were, officially, a disaster zone of a human being.

Toshi squeezed again and you broke away from his kiss with a choked moan of desperation. The week long drought had finally, finally broken you.

“Please,” you whined. “Please, please, please-”

He was already unbuttoning your jeans, thick fingers fumbling on the button and zipper until at last you batted his hand away and did it yourself, ignoring his chuckle at how eager you were. His cock jutted proudly from his open pants and his shirt had come untucked at some point that you couldn’t remember but it gave him a dishevelled, ‘just fucked’ look that was doing things to you.

Not that there was much more to be done.

The whole thing was reminding you of the picture he’d sent you two days ago and what you wouldn’t have given to have been there that time too.

He let go of your neck briefly to help you out of your jeans and panties, stripping you from the waist down.

A moment later and his hands went in two different directions.

One cupped between your legs, forcing them apart as he dipped his two middle fingers between the lips of your pussy. A breath caught in his chest. You had been soaking wet ever since he’d told you to get on your knees for fuck’s sake. The other hand, to your relief, went right back where you wanted it to be.

He pressed you backwards on the now empty desk until your back level with the surface and you were staring up at the ceiling. You were almost vibrating in anticipation, hitching your knees up to rest on his hips and locking your ankles at the small of his back.

Toshi hovered over you, all solid muscle and wolfish grin and you almost leaned up for a kiss before remembering that doing so would lead to you choking under his hand. You hadn’t had sex with him in this muscular form for a while now and sometimes you forgot just how fucking strong his grip was.

Instead, you rolled your lower body upwards to encourage him to move and in doing so, accidentally rubbed yourself on his fingers.

The sudden jolt of pressure against your clit went straight to your head and much to your utter shame, you mewled like a goddamn kitten. You made a fucking noise that sounded so pathetic it almost made you throw your hands up and put a stop to the whole thing.

He was staring at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Not a word!” you warned, game forgotten for a moment- along with any urgency you might have had over being in public like this. “We are never, ever speaking of that again,” you muttered, face flushed with mortification when he opened his mouth to speak. “If I ever make a noise like that again, I want you to throw me into the sun- Oh fuck!”

Toshinori, was now beaming from ear to ear, smug that he’d drawn it out of you.

He very clearly disagreed with the verdict you’d given and once again, he dragged the pads of his thick fingers upwards to circle your clit lazily- and anything else that was about to come out of your mouth morphed into a pleased moan.

“Ah, ah, ah, kitten,” he said and you scowled at him despite the throbbing, delicious pleasure he was currently providing you. You supposed that the flush on your face and the little pants you were letting out did nothing to make you seem intimidating. “I think that that was one of my favourite noises ever. Think I can make you make it again?” he asked, nuzzling between your breasts and your hardened nipples tingled against the fabric of your bra.

“You’d better fucking not-” you tried to say.

But all of a sudden, Toshi’s hand tightened around your throat and you gasped as he loomed over you. His fingers began to move in tight, fast little circles- the kind he would use when he wanted you to come quickly and you could already feel the building tension in your thighs and stomach as he glanced between you both to see what he was doing.

He licked his lips and breathed out an appreciative sigh at the sight, squeezing your throat again.

“Listen to Daddy, kitten,” he repeated, all no nonsense because apparently the game had begun again and hooray for you because you were absolutely about to win. “Because that wasn’t a request. Now, what do we say?” he asked and then dipped his fingers low and inside you, making the words you’d managed to get out break in the middle.

“Yes! Y-es, Daddy!” you choked out, eyes watering as he fucked you with his fingers. God, the stretch was fantastic. He didn’t hold back either, keeping an almost punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air.

He curled them ever so slightly and you shuddered, hips jerking upwards in a desperate attempt to either get closer or relieve the pressure. You had no idea which because his hand was choking you tightly enough that the only real thoughts in your head were badly strung together swear words.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed, pleased and for the second time today, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at you. Even though most thoughts were being railed out of your head at an amazing speed, you did manage to notice that he was beginning to look a little desperate himself- despite the cool, calm demeanour he was presenting.

You clenched your muscles around his fingers experimentally and sure enough, his jaw tightened- smile gone and his eyes predatory.

“Since we’re in public, there isn’t enough time to do all the things I want to do to you… But we can make do, sweetheart, can’t we?” he asked and you nodded. You didn’t care what kind of marathon you were signing up to later as long as he kept going right now and did. Not. Stop.

Then his fingers were gone and the fat head of his cock was parting your pussy, bearing down to push inside you. You arched you back as you cried out and Toshi shushed you sweetly, although he kept the grip on your neck firm so that you wouldn’t move around too much.

Knowing that these hands could hit hard enough to level a city block only served to make you wetter than you already were and the pressure of his cock pushing into you was leaving you breathless. You made another pathetic noise- still stretching around him as he pressed on further.

“Colour, kitten?” he asked suddenly, eyeing your absolutely wrecked expression.

“Green! Green, baby please!” you bucked, trying to take him in faster. Toshinori snorted and held you firmly- despite your protest and plea for him to hurry things along. You might be well practiced in taking his cock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require a good amount of preparation and it wasn’t something he was willing to just rush.

He didn’t care if someone walked in and you had to stop altogether. He refused to let you get hurt just because you were both too eager to do this safely.

On the other hand, you were holding onto his wrist for dear life with both hands, your fingers digging in and urging him to go faster.

Splaying his free hand wide across your belly, Toshi held you still and with a short sharp thrust he finally felt the head of his cock push inside you. You made a noise of extreme satisfaction and now it was just a matter of slowly inching himself in bit by bit. He did so, as slowly as he could stand until he felt like you were at your limit.

You were shaking, because if he didn’t move in the next three seconds you were going to move for him. Fuck the game at this point, he was teasing you to the point of absolute madness-

Toshi watched your face as he pulled out and thrust back in, easy and slow to begin with. Your reaction was instantaneous.

You cried out, hips rolling and one hand sliding up along his arm to grip what you could of his bicep. He smirked and did it again, loving the way your head pressed back against the wood and how fucking amazing his hand looked around your throat.

You were on a whole other goddamn planet right now.

Breathing was getting slightly difficult but not impossible and if you tapped his arm twice he would know to lighten up. You weren’t at your limit yet though and so you simply touched him where you could reach, needing the heat of his skin beneath your palms.

His hand tightened again as he groaned, loudly and sinfully- like this was the most religious experience he’d ever had. Your vision blurred for a moment and the pressure in your stomach was twisting, winding tighter and tighter until it was dangerously close to snapping.

Your whole body was lighting up, nerve endings firing and Toshi was now picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was still keeping them steady but his tempo increased, and the slick warmth between your legs was making your head spin. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen-

Fuck, you needed to breathe.

You tapped his arm twice and his grip immediately lessened, eyes flashing towards your face in concern. But as you’d agreed on, he didn’t stop fucking you or remove his hand from your neck. That would have been three taps- and you were nowhere near fucked out enough for that yet.

You sucked in a full breath, glad for the oxygen.

“Okay baby?” he asked, leaning over you to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, finding the perfect opportunity to thread your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Such were the perks of having an absurdly tall boyfriend. He could comfortably fuck you and lean over to kiss you at the same time.

He sighed into the kiss, hips snapping forward and you bit down on his bottom lip- before sucking it lightly. Toshi made a noise of pleasure but it was drowned out by your keening cry when he reached down to rub at your clit again.

“Tighter again?” he asked after a moment of letting you catch your breath and you nodded eagerly, mouth falling open as he applied the pressure in increments. Bit by bit he strengthened his grip and you watched, fascinated as the muscles in his arm flexed while he did.

He stopped moments before it became too much. The whole time he’d been carefully and precisely finding the sweet spot around your throat, he’d been keeping a steady pace between your thighs. He wasn’t bottoming out- having not really had the time or space to really prepare you for that absolutely magnum task.

So you both settled for shallower thrusts, keeping the pace quick as you raced to the edge.

Toshi was panting against your shoulder and your inner muscles were fluttering around him, almost there. So close it was killing you. If he slowed down right now, you were going to kill him. Thankfully, he seemed to be all out of fucks to give and he smirked when your nails dug into his wrist, baring his teeth and sinking them into your shoulder.

You bucked almost painfully hard, a choked, cut off cry of his name leaving your lips. He let go, laving the bite with his tongue thoughtfully, soothing the sting. The thumb of the hand that was around your throat was rubbing up and down your jawline, gently reminding you not to get too carried away.

But you were so close to coming right now that your attention was elsewhere- chasing the pleasure he was giving you with a one track mind. His whole upper body was covering yours now and the hand you had buried in his hair trailed down so you could hook your arm around his back.

Palm flat, you took a second to appreciate the roll of his muscles under his shirt.

He nuzzled you, forehead pressing against the side of your head and his mouth close to your ear so you could hear every shaky, barely held together inhale and exhale.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl,” he said and you squeezed your knees into his sides to let him know that you appreciated his praise. A lot. If there was one way to get you to do anything it was to call you a good girl and Toshinori knew and exploited that fact all the damn time. “You want to come? Yeah?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the absolute state of you underneath him.

He squeezed when you didn’t answer and you managed a pathetic-

“Yes please Daddy.”

-that was hoarse and pleading and fuck, please, please, please was all you could think. You needed to come. You had needed it all fucking week and that picture that he’d sent you had nearly stopped your heart on the spot. It was all you’d thought about for hours at a time.

He was all you’d thought about.

“I’m close too, kitten,” he huffed out, raising himself up on one forearm so he loomed over you again. “Tighter?” he asked again and you nodded as best you could, feeling his hips pick up speed even more. This was it. He choked you as tight as you could handle without tapping out and thrust forward at such an angle that he managed to brush against your clit at long last.

The result was instantaneous.

Your orgasm whited you out. It spread from your fingers to your toes and hit every nerve with a fucking baseball bat on the way down. If no-one knew what was going on in here before then they would definitely know now- considering you had just screamed Toshinori’s name loud enough to be heard across town.

Between your garbled sobs and pleading and moans of his name mixed with obscenities, Toshi was barely holding on to himself. The strong contraction of your muscles around his cock was suddenly too much and he lost the battle to see you through to the end of your orgasm.

He groaned, long and low when his balls tightened and he came- panting your name as his hips jerked repeatedly. You could feel the tremble in his muscles between your legs and the sweet, fulfilling sensation of him filling you up.

He wasn’t as deep as he would normally be though and the result was a mess, your mixed come dripping out around his cock and down your ass- pooling on the table below.

His forehead dropped to the wood beside you as you both slumped at the same time, utterly exhausted.

“How are you holding up princess? You alright?” he asked after a long moment of simply breathing in time to yours- noticing the way your eyes were shut and your breathing was still hard.

Opening your eyes at last, you smoothed your hand across the broad plane of his back, scratching your nails in a soft line between his shoulder blades. His whole body trembled again- both from little aftershocks and the fact that he was nearing his limit on holding this form.

“Alright?” you snorted. “Alright? Are you kidding me, Toshinori? I’m pretty sure that I’m not walking out of here. At least… not in a straight line.”

Your laughter was infectious and he joined in, the pair of you giggling like teenagers, exhausted and spent and covered in various fluids. You would have been content to lay there like that with him at home, keeping him inside you while you played with his hair and gave him massive heart eyes. But it was quickly dawning on the both of you that hanging around in the open like this any longer was definitely going to get you caught.

Toshi groaned when he pulled out of you and stood up straight, rubbing his back. He grumbled something under his breath about ‘getting old’ and you managed to lift your head to look at him- incredulous.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure old guys don’t fuck like you do baby,” you informed him smugly, absolutely loving the way his cheeks flushed as though he hadn’t been choking you and calling himself ‘daddy’ not five minutes before. This man was a study in fucking opposites sometimes and it only endeared him to you even more.

He groaned when he twisted from side to side and you took pity on him, despite not being able to move much yourself.

“Babe, why don’t you just change back now? You have to be exhausted.”

He shot you a grateful look and then did just that- a blast of air and smoke and there he was in all of his skinny glory- dwarfed in a suit that was now ten times too big for him. Considering that his pants were still splayed open at the top, gravity dictated that they almost immediately fall down to his ankles.

“Damn,” he huffed and glared down at them, unamused at both that and your resulting laughter.

“There’s no way I can bend down for those,” he said, face absolutely deadpan and despite the ache in your whole damn body, you were wracked with giggles as he stared forlornly at his pants. He glanced over at you, content to lay there for a moment longer while he worked out his dilemma. “Little help?”

“Oh, Daddy, there’s no hope of that. My legs are done. Anyone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t give a shit,” you explained, raising the only part of you that wasn’t all fucked out. You lifted your head and grinned at him- his expression amused and exasperated in equal measure. “Besides, I need to get my breath back.”

He laughed, short and sharp and finally found the energy to bend at the waist and pull his pants up. He had to tighten the belt as much as he possibly could to make them stay put, but eventually they complied and he wandered over to you- holding your panties and jeans in one hand.

He dangled them over your head and you managed a lazy grab, giggling again as he pulled them out of your reach.

Then his eyes flickered down to your throat and he frowned suddenly, reaching out to rub gently over the redness he’d left behind. You were still quite content to sag back against the desk, knowing that when you moved at last it would mean cleaning up the mess you had both made of the hall.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I know you like being choked sweetheart but I’m always worried that I overdo it,” he said, concerned as he always was after a particularly intense session. Your expression softened at the way he worried, feeling a wave of affection for him.

You really wouldn’t have him any other way. No one worried about you like he did.

You caught his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to kiss his palm.

“I loved it and I love you and I had a great time.”

His expression changed in an instant, a winning smile gracing his skinny features and you returned it without even thinking.

“Love you too sweetheart,” he responded softly and you gave his hand one last kiss before finally summoning the energy to stand at long last. Using the desk behind you for support, you tiredly shimmied back into your pants while your boyfriend went about gathering the papers that had been strewn around the floor.

It was only when you glanced at him after a moment, did it dawn on you what he was holding. What you’d almost been fucked on top of.

The exam papers.

The now messy, out of order, exam papers.

Hell Week had struck again and when Toshinori caught your eye, he immediately paused in what he was doing to look down at the papers in his hand too.

“Oh,” he said after a long, long moment of staring at them blankly. “Well fuck.”

#BNHAFF #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might #toshinori yagi #bnha

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sweetberrysmooch · 3 years

Text

HC: And There Was Only One Bed (Affectionate) [pt. 2]

(Zzzzzzz…..)

(Alright, second part done :V Not much to say here for now, but I hope you’re excited for the upcoming part to come out next ^^ And my ask box is always open, so feel free to drop in and chat any time! I’ll be seeing you :D)

Basic sleeping hcs with ya boys, and for a part two, outside home life? You’ll see what I mean lol

Characters: Quackity, George, Badboyhalo.

Warnings: Nightmares in Quackity’s part, but besides that we’re clean <3

Song Recommendation: Metamodernity- Vansire

Up Next- Sapnap, Philza, Fundy, Schlatt.

Enjoy your day guys! I do hope it be rockin :]

Quackity:

Quackity is one floppy motherfucker. You fall asleep with him spooning you, head nestled between your shoulder blades, hands holding yours in front of your middle, legs entangled, the whole shi-bang, but wake up with him starfishing half on the mattress at a weird angle that makes his neck sore for the rest of the day.

Each day is a new position for you to add to your ammunition of teasing against him, but he takes it in stride. He totally doesn’t wake you up halfway through the night by flinging himself over your middle, ‘asleep’ and snoring like a freight train. When you give up halfway through trying to stop him breathing and just fall asleep lying on his chest, he turns to mush and gets distracted playing with your hair. You don’t know why he seems so exhausted the next morning, and he only giggles dreamily at you when you ask.

While he’ll be the big spoon for as long as you want him to, there’s a special soft place in his heart for being the little spoon. Hold him, please. Pull him to your chest and gently run your fingers through his hair, rub his back and kiss every inch of his face until he’s down for the count. The easiest way to make him feel better after a bad day or an argument is to let him know you want him and love him. Just holding him at night guarantees that he’ll bring you a present the next day (like the inner stardew valley house husband he sometimes longs to be lmao).

It’s a 50/50 chance of waking up with Quackity or after him, seeing as he prefers to get up early to enjoy the quiet mornings before the rest of the smp wakes up. He gets ready, makes the both of you coffee (or tea, something to help wake you up), and watches the sky change color while he waits for you to come sit with him in the kitchen. The two of you try your best to assure a moment together before you go about your separate ways, sitting together and talking about what you have planned or what you might have for dinner later. It’s his favorite part of the day, aside from coming back home to your awaiting arms.

Another citrus-y smelling fellow. More orange than lemon, he bathes in the morning after he wakes up. You typically wake up right after he gets finished washing up, walking into the bathroom to hear him quietly humming while drying off his hair and wings. He’ll give you a small guilty grin and a good smooch on your forehead as an apology.

Another poor fellow with nightmares;; They’re a lot less frequent than they used to be now that you’ve gotten together (having someone to talk to and work through each others issues does WONDERS apparently) but when they hit, they hit him hard. You wake up from him twisting and turning right before he wakes up in tears. He doesn’t like to be touched afterwards, drawn in on himself and facing away from you, hiding his crying. When you leave to get him a glass of water and come back, he’s more grounded, crawling into your arms and accepting the drink gratefully. With his forehead pressed to your throat, taking small sips from his cup, he’ll tell you what his dream was about. Sometimes it’s Technoblade, sometimes Dream, mostly Schlatt though. His ex lingers on his mind more than he likes to admit, a deep sense of abandonment showing through his nightmares. Quackity struggles with sleeping for a few days after, afraid of what he might see when he closes his eyes again.

(You’ve fallen back asleep by now, hand paused in its ministrations and resting snugly in his hair. Things are warm and quiet and soft, and he feels safe again.

The nightmare still hovers fuzzily in the back of his mind, but for now he can ignore it, focusing on your slow breathing as it lulls him back to sleep.

His last thought before finally letting himself rest is how much he loves you, giving you one last squeeze in his tight embrace before relaxing into a much more stable slumber. ‘Gracias por todo mi amor.’)

George:

Impeccable skill of just falling asleep wherever and whenever. Before the two of you got close and started sharing a bed together, he really left his sleep schedule up to fate. He’d find a comfy spot and crash there for a few hours till he was awoken and would just repeat that a few hours later. Now that he has you, he makes more of an effort to stay awake during the day so he can sleep through the night next to your side. It more or less works, but occasionally he’ll have slept during the day and he wakes up in the middle of the night. As “punishment”, he sentences himself to waiting it out instead of getting up to do something because he truly wants to keep going to bed with you.

Not big on contact, likes having his space when he’s sleeping. Cuddling is nice every once in a while, but he prefers being able to breathe a little bit when falling asleep. He does, however, actively make the choice to hold your hand while he slips into slumberville. His grip isn’t too strong, nor is it very light, but a gentle mix between the two to try and remind you how much he loves you. You’ll wake up before him and his hand will still be holding yours, pulled to his chin as he sleeps. His breath fans your knuckles slowly, face eased of any stress, absolutely content.

George bathes…… probably. I’m just kidding, he fluctuates between bathing at night or in the morning because he just goes through phases of forgetting to when the time comes. His little mushroom home doesn’t come with a bathroom, seeing as its wholly empty (please if anyone has housing information on George or like. Any character at all please inform me please i beg-), so he’s limited to getting clean at a friend’s or your house. Typically yours. He keeps all of his valuables at your place once you start letting him sleep over there, tucking his clothes into your closet or in your dresser when he thinks you aren’t looking, leaving a toothbrush and his soap in your bathroom, hanging his armor up on an empty armor stand you have tucked away, all due to his inability to straight out ask if he can live with you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to live with you, he practically does anyways, but there’s something in him that worries that you won’t like him if you’re forced to live with him permanently. He knows it can become… a bit much when you have to be around someone 24/7, but doesn’t realize that you pretty much already are around each other 24/7 lmao.

It takes a while but eventually he settles down and over dinner suggest that maybe you two should take it to the next level. His face is flushed pink and he keeps switching which leg he has crossed, but he takes your hand and quietly asks if he could start living with you. It’s a surprisingly sweet moment, even with your confusion (thinking you already DID live together), and of course you say yes.

He looks so relieved when you accept, and is kinda like, “I know this will be a difficult process but I’m very excited to become closer with you.” and then nothing changes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(It’s on the walk home when George finally processes that he now lives with you. It feels heavy on his heart, a mix of nervousness and excitement that makes him swallow hard and tighten his fingers around yours.

This isn’t the first time he’s spent the night at your place, nor is it the first time he’s crawled into bed with you and slept next to just because you let him, but it is his first night actually living with you. The moment feels brand new, as if it’s his first time visiting your house all over again.

He begins to wonder if maybe this was a mistake, maybe he’s moved too fast and maybe your regretting letting him live with you already and- He takes a hurried look at your face. You look… unbothered. Happy, even.

There’s this half hidden smile on your face that soothes his anxieties, drawing out his own fragile smile. He can’t wait to live with you.)

Bad:

Mmmmm, big man warm. A natural heat machine, no need for lots of blankets or heavier pajamas, Bad will take care of all your cold problems. Every night after you finish your shared nightly routine, you curl up in his arms, immediately becoming over come with his toasty embrace. It like when you get clothes out of the drier and just hug them to your chest, the warm, clean, smell good experience that Bad also delivers.

He’s got a pretty ingrained nightly schedule that he sticks to, and he always invites you to join him after you finish up dinner. It starts by cleaning up the house a little, washing the dishes, setting aside clothes for the next day, taking a quick bath, brushing his teeth, reading a few chapters from a new book he’s picked up, and then settling down to go to bed. He won’t push you to do it with him, but he does try to incorporate you into his routine when he can. Usually it’s just by doing something small, like reading together or massaging your shoulders, but sometimes he’ll ask you to join him when he bathes.

Bad bathes pretty often, always at night, and using a nice smelling soap that he makes himself. Like what was said above, he’ll sometimes ask you to join him when bathing. It’s not ever for any naughty means, but because he sees bathing as a very intimate and vulnerable activity for you to share. He won’t push it, understanding that it can be overwhelming to be so open, but if you do choose to join him, he’s so gentle with you. His hands are worked and calloused, but they’re soft when they run soap through your hair, his nails lightly scratching your scalp and running down the back of your neck. He practically purrs when you return the favor, giggling as your hands brush sensitive spots around his sides. Afterwards he becomes so cuddly and attached to your side, you fall asleep with him curled up on YOUR chest, trapped under him.

That being said, most nights he takes to being the big spoon. It’s more for convenience sake, seeing as he’s a good few feet taller than you are, but he also can appreciate being held and loved on after harsher days. He’s a lot like a weighted blanket, a nice heavy weight that keeps you warm and makes you feel loved <3 love this guy.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), you sometimes have.... Visitors. Bad is a hub for the homeless, bored, and nutty members of the smp. They flock to him like birds to the elderly, which means you have “children” to take care of for a day or two at a time :/. Dream and George aren’t regulars, per say, but Bad has a room set aside for either of them when they come over. To their credit, they do try to be polite when they come over, and will help in cooking dinner or cleaning up. Skeppy, however, is unlike Dream or George, in that he’s more of a third partner in your and Bad’s relationship.

Skeppy up and appears at random, no announcement, and makes himself comfortable any place where Bad is. Be it at your home or his, Skeppy eats your food, lounges on your furniture, hell, he even sleeps with you and Bad at night. You two share Bad’s chest whenever Skeppy is over. It’s so jarring at first, having to deal with having another boyfriend (because Skeppy will consider you to be apart of the thrupple after introductions), but he usually only stays for like 3 days before leaving to do whatever else he has planned. You don’t know if you should be worried or upset or what, but after a while it becomes kinda nice to have him around.

All in all Bad is great to sleep with <3

(Bad blows the lantern out on his bedside counter, shuffling under the cover beside you once the room was fully dark. You slung an arm over his chest instinctively, cuddling up into his side when his arm pulled up around your back and held you even closer.

You shivered pleasantly when he gently pressed a kiss into your hair, becoming sleepier and sleepier with each rise and fall of his wide chest. He sighs quietly and squeezes you, murmuring softly to you as you both fell asleep. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.”)

Have a good evening! Do something nice for yourself tonight. You deserve it.

#mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #c: george #c: quackity #c: badboyhalo #georgenotfound x reader #quackity x reader #badboyhalo x reader #hc: and there was only one bed (affectionate)#woof #sorry this took so long to get out guys ^^;#lets hope pt.3 won't take as long!

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ha-hatdog · 4 years

Text

little one / daisuke kambe

i definitely did not swoon while writing this. again, i did not know if you wanted hcs or one shot but i'll go with one shot. this is a good time to post this since the latest episode showed pics of smol daisuke omg. also, the name of your son is kakeru - yes, as in kakeru from run with the wind lmao

and to those who are saying i should add read more to my long fics, i really want to but i don't have a laptop or computer. i write everything on my phone, on the tumblr app. so if you know how to add read more in posts using the app, then please do dm me. thank chu💛

requested by anon: one where daisuke and reader have a two year old son together? lots of fluff

UNEDITED

Your palm concealed your amused lips, a snort emanating from your wrinkled nose as you took in the sight before you.

Kambe Daisuke was a man of little words and little expressions, and even now, after being married to you for four years and having a son who was now at the age of two, that has not changed. He was still the stoic and cool detective millionaire you have met many years ago - which is exactly what makes the unfolding scene before you much more hilarious.

Monotonous Daisuke, the same man you had seen take down criminals twice his size, was haphazardly sprawled on your carpeted ground, arms and legs outstretched, cheek pressed flat against the material of the carpet as a smaller and cuter carbon copy of him perched comfortably on his back, oblivious to the position he had set his father on, doing nothing but lie down on his father's back and sleep soundly, eyes closed, snoring and wearing such an adorable sleeping face that it was difficult not to coo.

The sight alone was already adorably hilarious, but seeing the genuine distress on Daisuke's face had you doubling over, your palm muffling your laughter.

"Look at you," You whispered at him by the doorframe, your knees bent and your other hand sliding along the frame of the door. "You look so dumb, Daisuke."

"I'm happy at least you find this amusing, but I do not." Your husband responded back in an ired puff, azure eyes glaring at you from the floor. It took all of you not to swoon.

"Don't look at me like that, my love. I can't take you seriously when our son is using you as a mattress." Daisuke's glare intensified, but as your previous statement suggested, all purpose of threat was dulled by the position he was in. "How did you even get yourself in this situation?"

"I find it unnecessary to tell you." Answered Daisuke, and from how his cheeks tinged red, you could only assume it was something embarassing. "Will you help me, love? Take Kakeru off of my back."

You shifted your gaze back to your slumbering son, and a fond smile sprouted on your brims.

Sometimes you wonder how you were even able to make this precious, big eyed, nuzzling baby. He was an exact copy of Daisuke, not a single hint of your genes. Blank face, quiet, raven hair, blue eyes, the little shine in his eyes whenever he saw you - it was like seeing Daisuke when he was a child, and it was because of this fact that you were at least feeling a little bit alright with your son having no semblance with you.

"Kakeru," You whispered to your son as you stepped closer to your best boys with quiet footfalls, and he scrunched his face ay the brief interruption of your cooing voice. You stopped yourself from squishing his cute little face, and knelt down beside them. "Kake -"

Your sentence was cut off when you felt a hand under your knee. Immediately, Daisuke retracted his hand away, hurling your way a soft glare. "Watch where your knee is going."

You chuckled at his dilemma and reached down to stroke his head. "Mattresses don't talk, Daisuke."

"Normal people don't talk to mattresses." Countered Daisuke, huffing and averting his gaze away from you. You stifled your laughter as his pout grew more prominent. It might be very obvious already with how Daisuke has everything handed over to him with a single breath, but your husband absolutely hated losing in any forms ; even in your daily banter, he must always have the last word. People often mistakenly thought that you, being his darling wife that he had persistently courted for a whole year, would be exempted to this childish pettiness you consistently deny her allegations, firmly believing you were receiving the worse end of it. This man cannot forget the times you have successfully reigned victory over his own game, months or weeks, it never failed to be permanently ingrained in his mind ; and this resulted to puzzling moments which goes by a chronological sequence - a relatively normal day, an opportunity to divulge the opening you have unknowingly presented before his feet, and then comes his last word, to which he will remind you as your confused face stared back at him when his out of the blue statement has originally birthed from.

However, there was only one person who could defeat him at that, would never let him get the last word and that is your son Kakeru. As you stared at his sleeping face, you cannot help but smile as you reminiscent that particular day.

***

Haru Kato has been invited to your house to meet Kambe Kakeru. Daisuke has been mildly cross with Haru meeting his son because he was petty and said that Kakeru needed no other man than him but seeing that Daisuke has become good friends with Haru in the two years they were partners, you insisted that he meets him. It was already unfair that Haru had to wait until Kakeru was two to meet him, the first and last time he saw him being after you had given birth (Daisuke only let him have a glimpse then pushed him out of the hospital room because he doesn't want Kakeru thinking he was his father).

"Kakeru," You chided as you crouched beside your son who was hiding behind Daisuke's legs and peering at the gray haired male, eyes curious yet cautious. "Don't you want to meet Uncle Haru?"

Haru stepped closer to the three of you, bent down near Kakeru's height, and outstretched his hand for him to shake. "Hey there, Kakeru." Haru greeted with a smile.

Kakeru recoiled and hid himself further behind Daisuke, hands around his pants tightening. "Daddy," He whimpered. "Bad man."

Haru's face fell at the enunciation, and you covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. Daisuke stared blankly at Haru as his hand travelled behind his back to stroke Kakeru's head. "You heard my son. Get out of here, bad man." Daisuke uttered his command.

A tick mark appeared on Haru's forehead at Daisuke's vocalization and before things could escalate out of the power of your responsibility, you interjected, regaiming your proper posture and clasping your hands together. "Kakeru is just wary of Haru because this is the first time he's seeing him, no need to fight." You told them off.

"No, Haru is just naturally scary." Daisuke stated with bantering finality.

"This is coming from a man who barely smiles." Argued Haru, scowling.

"And this is coming from someone who seems to be making a living screaming at me." Countered Daisuke.

Kakeru's eyes widened at what his father had said and shot Haru a small glare, yet his stance never wavered from its hiding place. "He screams at daddy . . . " Murmured Kakeru in a thoughtful trance, and pointed at Haru, shocking all three of you. "D-Don't scream at daddy again!"

Alarm made its way to Haru's facr at the accusation. "No, I have not once yelled at your dad - "

Daisuke turned around and knelt in front of Kakeru. Daisuke stared into his son's eyes and Kakeru stared back. "Don't listen to him, Kakeru. You should never listen to him, never ever. He makes daddy get all angry when we're doing police missions together."

"O-Oi," Haru inserted, fuming. "You're the one who always makes me mad! Don't turn the child on me!"

But Kakeru was not listening to Haru, as his beloved father has told him. Kakeru nodded firmly, lips curling. "Yes, daddy." He vouched in determination.

"Daisuke, stop it." You chastised, sighing and turned to the other detective that was not using your son to his advantage. "Sorry about this, Haru. Kakeru really looks up to Daisuke so he does anything he tells him to."

Kakeru, all of a sudden, began trotting away from the three of you, leaving all of you confused. After a few minutes, Kakeru returned, a determined look on his face.

"Kakeru, sweetheart, where did you go?" You asked as you approached him. "It's rude to leave our guest hanging, you know."

"Fight bad man," You and Haru gasped in horror when your son suddenly brandished a gun to Haru, not just a toy, but a real one. His tiny hands trembled as he was not used to the weight of the metal weapon burdening his grasp, and he was still glaring at Haru. "I pew pew bad guy, mommy, like daddy do with bad guys!"

"Kakeru, where did you get that gun?" You questioned, alarmed and and genuinely frightened. You looked to your husband to assess his reaction, but much to your mortification, Daisuke looked calm as he always is, as if your son wasn't capable of hurting a person as of the moment. "Daisuke, what the hell?"

You let out a yelp when Kakeru turned to you, and in the process, turned the gun to you. "Bad word, Mommy." He scolded. "I don't like."

Daisuke drawled. "It's not a big deal."

Haru growled. "Your son has a weapon! How are you not freaking out?" He then turned to Kakeru and extended his hand. "Give me the gun, Kakeru. Give it."

But Kakeru shook his head defiantly. "No!"

Daisuke frowned at his wife and his partner. "Why are you making a big fuss about this?" He questioned. "It's unloaded and the safety is on."

At the mention of those, you and Haru felt a brief sense of relief until Haru spoke out, "Just because it's unloaded doesn't mean it's okay!"

"It's basically a toy." Retorted Daisuke.

You walked towards your husband and pulled at his ear. His face did not at all change, seemingly expecting this reaction from you. "Daisuke, where did he even get the gun? Has one of yours been just lying around his reach?" This concerned you. If your son was able to get a weapon easily, what more is your husband letting him get?

"I gave him one." Answered Daisuke.

"And why would you give our two year old a gun?" You snapped at him.

"Kakeru said he wanted to hold a gun. Just like you, I said no." Daisuke glanced over at Kakery who was watching the three of you curiously. "However - " He turned back to you, and looked away. " - he's too adorable, as you might say."

You and Haru, in unison, slapped your hands to your forehead, exasperated with Daisuke's response.

"Kakeru probably looked sad when Daisuke said no." Haru remarked. "I can't blame him to be honest."

"He's spoiling him in ways too many." You added, and removed your hand from your forehead. "Daisuke, I know you love our son and pampering him but he can't just have a gun."

"Why, mommy?" You all looked at Kakeru, and immediately understood why Daisuke was forced to give him an unloaded gun. "Not love me?"

"A-Ah," You shrieked, horrified. "The secret move!"

Haru gulps. "This boy knows a little too much about his abilities."

"Even if it doesn't have any bullets?" Daisuked asked you.

You hurtled him a glower. "Even if it doesn't have any bullets and yes, even if it has the safety lock on." You immediately added when you saw Daisuke open his mouth.

Said man huffed. "Fine. If I knew you were going to react like this, I wouldn't have done it."

You and Haru watched as Daisuke knelt down in front of your son. Kakeru stared at his father, eyes wide and admiring. Daisuke lets out a sigh and extended his palm, "Give."

Kakeru shook his head vigorously, and his face scrunched as if he was going to cry but was trying to suppress it. "Daddy no love me too?"

You waited for what Daisuke would do, but he did not move. More seconds has passed, and he was yet to move. You and Haru exchanged glances before you moved over to him, checking him out. "Daisuke, love, what - Daisuke?"

A torn man was what Daisuke coukd be called at that moment. His face was deadpanned, but being with him longer than anyone else, you were able to pick up the small difference his expression held right now.

"U-Uh, Daisuke, are you okay?" You questioned in a form of a titter, eyebrows connected. "Daisuke?"

Haru walked over to Daisuke and leaned to look at him. "A-Ah, he looks like he's suffering."

"No, no," Denied Daisuke, frown deepening as he tried not to fall for his son's adorable trap. "Daddy loves you. But mommy and I agreed that you can't have that kind of toy, Kakeru."

"But," You all drew in a breath Kakeru hugged the gun to his chest, tears prodding the corners of his eyes. "My favorite toy is this."

"But why that, baby?" You asked softly. "You have so many other toys. Why that one?" You recalled the heaping amount of toys Daisuke bought for Kakeru.

Kakeru pouted, cheeks puffing. You couldn't help but imagine little Daisuke like that. "Because Daddy gave me this." Said Kakeru. "I want to be police, like daddy."

Daisuke turned to you, the internal struggle in his eyes prominent but you shook your head at him. Your husband sighed and looked at Kakeru again. He put his hand on top his head and ruffled his hair. Kakeru closed his eyes at the affection, welcoming it and his rigid frame loosening. Kakeru opened his eyes and let out a small noise of surprise as Daisuke wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

From what you can deduce, you knew Daisuke was about to say something brilliant to your son, to teach him something valuable. But before Daisuke could even open his mouth, Haru cut him off -

"A gun doesn't make a cop, Kakeru. It's the sense of justice to do the right thing and keeping people safe does." Haru then proceeded to take out his badge and handing it to Kakeru with a large smile on his face. "You can borrow this for a while, while I'm still here. As much as I want to give it to you, I need it to do my job as a cop. But maybe in the future, you can get one of your own. You'll be just like your dad."

You were impressed by what Haru had said, but Kakeru - his eyes were wide and glittering with admiration as he stared at Haru, all fear of the bad man gone. You swear that there was light all around Haru if you're ever seeing through Kakeru's eyes. But one member of the group disliked this mild change, and it was your irritated and pouting husband.

You covered your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. Daisuke was obviously feeling jealous of Haru now that his son was ignoring him - the emotion only worsening when Kakeru took the badge from Haru and dropped the gun on the ground and stared at the shiny object, whispering, "Uwahh,"

A cloud of dread hung over Daisuke and you patted his back in comfort. "There, there, Daisuke, he's just making a friend."

"But why with Haru?" Grumbled Daisuke, sulking. "And why is he looking at him like that? I should be the only one he's looking at like that. You too, I guess."

You let out a sigh. "You're really jealous when it comes to me and Kakeru."

Haru looked proud of the achievement and improvement he had made with Kakeru, his hands over his hips. "Looks pretty cool, right?"

Kakeru nodded enthusiastically, examining the badge thoroughly. "Very cool." He murmured, and then stared at Haru intently, lips pursing. "I wanna be like Mister Haru when I grow up!"

That was the first time you have seen Daisuke speechless and the last time Haru had seen Kakeru for six months. You were certain Daisuke did not speak to Haru for about two weeks, only communicating through nods and grunts, and Haru did not know whether to feel relieved or irritated at that. Maybe a little bit of both.

But, that was the only time Daisuke did not have the last word.

Kakeru certainly has Daisuke around his little finger.

***

You reached forward and shook Kakeru awake softly. "Kakeru," You chimed, and he scrunched his face again, not wanting to be disturbed sleeping on Daisuke's back. "Wake up, baby,"

Kakeru let out a small groan, and slowly opened his eyes. A familiar pair of blue hues greeted you, the same eyes that you wake up to every morning. Kakeru let out a big yawn and rubbed his left eye with his hand, groaning out, "Mommy," He then looked down at Daisuke who was craning his head to watch his son. "And Daddy."

You smiled at him and opened your arms, hands making grabby movements towards your two year old. "Come here, baby," You cooed sweetly.

Kakeru perked up and a glimmer crossed his eyes, the same glimmer when Daisuke had seen you for the first time. You could never forget that time, and you can never find it more beautiful than seeing that in your son's eyes whenever you offer him affection. Immediately, the two year old scrambled out of Daisuke's back - Daisuke grunted as his little feet padded on his back a few times as he struggled to get to your lap and arms - and sunk in your embrace. Your eyes grew gentler as Kakeru snuggled closer to your chest, cheek rubbing on your clothing and his hands clinging to the fabric.

"Are you tired, baby?" You questioned as you stroked the back of his head, finger running over his hair.

Kakeru nodded tiredly. "Daddy played cops and robbers with me."

"Let me guess, you were the cop and he was the robber?" You commented.

"Yes, and I captured Daddy many, many times." Answered Kakeru, proud with himself.

"Oh, is that so? That's amazing, baby. You're going to be a great cop like Daddy." You then turned over to Daisuke who was now recovering from being used as a bed. He dusted himself as he sat properly on the ground in front of you. "Is that why you were under him? Because you were arrested?"

Daisuke looked away. "I think I need to teach him how to properly apprehend a criminal."

You giggled. "When he's older, Daisuke."

He faced you with a sharp twist of his face, expression determined. "He won't grow older."

You frowned. "What?"

You and Daisuke looked down to see Kakeru fighting the need to sleep, his eyes opening and closing.

"I don't . . . " Daisuke trailed off, and a trace of embarassment scrawled on his face. You rarely see your husband embarassed and so you waited for him to continue. " . . . I don't want Kakeru to grow up."

You shook your head lightly, smile broadening. "Daisuke," You whispered, and when he did not look at you, you called him again. "Love, look at me."

He did so, and with one hand, you cradled his face. "I know how you feel. I understand where you're coming from. But - " You mused. " - don't you want to see our son grow up to be a fine man? To be the person he aspires to be? To be like you?"

Daisuke stares back at you, and took a gander at Kakeru who was beginning to fall asleep. He lets out a sigh and nodded in agreement, "I guess that would be pleasant to see."

"And he'll marry a great girl." You added.

"Marry mommy," Kakeru drawled. He was forcing himself to stay awake but his eyes was not cooperating with his spirits.

Daisuke scooted closer to both of you and brushed his knuckles on Kakeru's forehead. "Marry mommy? You're going to take mommy away from me?"

Kakeru shook his head. "Marry someone like mommy," One of his hand extended and took hold of Daisuke's shirt, the other still clinging to you. Kakeru looked up at both of you, still comfortable in your lap and chest. His eyes, again, were bright. "I want family like me, and mommy, and daddy."

Warmth swathed your chest, your heart melting. You took a gander to Daisuke and saw that the expression he wore - love, care, and the promise of sacrifice when it comes to it and when he looked at you, the emotions never faltered, and they only grew stronger. Sometimes you wonder just how much Daisuke loved you and Kakeru.

"A family like the three of us." Kakeru let go of your clothing and showed three fingers of his and quickly pressed the three digits together. "A happy family."

Kakeru fell asleep after his statement. His arm dropped and his head moved to one side, his eyes closed and lips parted.

"We should tuck him in." Daisuke declared.

"Yeah," You agreed and Daisuke helped you stand up, making sure you two aren't waking your sleeping son. You moved him to his bed, setting him down the mattress gently. Daisuke took the liberty of putting the blanket over Kakeru. Your child shifted in his spot, and cuddled to his pillow.

You sat on the bed beside Kakeru, observing your son. "Already tired when the morning has just barely started." You chuckled.

"He said he needed practice to be a cop, and I couldn't say no." Daisuke inserted.

"You can never say no to Kakeru anyways." You jested.

"Same with you." Daisuke knelt down beside the bed, arms resting on the mattress and his head level with his son's. He admired Kakeru, his deadpan expression gone and a small smile on his face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Kakeru's cheek, lingering for a while before pulling away.

Daisuke faced you and you raised an eyebrow as he took your hand.

"You have given me a beautiful son. Thank you so much, my love."

#daisuke kambe x reader #daisuke x reader #kambe daisuke x reader #fuguo keiji x reader #fugou keiji x reader #the millionare detective balance unlimited #the millionare detective balance: unlimited #the millionaire detective balance unlimited #fuguo keiji balance unlimited #balance unlimited #anime #anime x reader #anime scenarios #the millionaire detective #the millionaire detective x reader #daisuke kambe #daisuke

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Caution to the Wind

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, tension, first kiss, solo masturbation (f), mentions of erections, mentions of virginity and losing it (friendship pact)

*AUTHORS NOTE: Warnings will update per chapter as things get steamier*

Permanent Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi @heyimtavia

Rating: 18 and over

January:

This was fine. You were fine. Min Yoongi was NOT your boyfriend. He was your childhood friend, who you experienced your first everything with. You both new that your fun experiments were all in preparation for this moment right here, a college party. You swallowed back the amber liquid in your cup, watching him laugh and flirt with a random girl who wasn’t you. You nodded to yourself and turned away. The sting of tears burning, so desperate to reveal themselves. You’re fine! You kept telling yourself. You look over at him again to see the girl tugging at the lapel of his flannel shirt. You squeal internally, dying inside, wanting so badly to interrupt. You promised each other you wouldn’t let feelings get involved. You would only fool around so not to be the only virgins at college but this, this was so hard. You drop your red solo cup on a side table and walk over to him. “I’m headed back to the dorms ok. Have fun.” You nod and walk off past him. You sniffle back the tears that threaten once again. How did you get here? How did this happen? Fucking morning wood that’s how! You think back, racing out of the frat house to hail a cab.

June:

It was normal for you and Yoongi to sleep over each other's houses. Although you were both normally at your place since your mom was laxer. You had both fallen asleep watching a movie, the sun rise now peeking through your curtains. You grumbled, rolling over to find Yoongi lying on his back, soft snores escaping his slightly parted lips. You waved your hand over his face to see if he was really sleeping or just pretending. No movement. You smile to yourself, enjoying watching your best friend sleep. The angelic way he looked, the calm way his chest moved up and down, how he rested his hand on his tummy. You shifted the covers down from your over warm bodies, running your hand over his, gasping to yourself at the sight of his erection. You looked up at his face again and find him still fast asleep. You had heard of morning wood before. Your female friends had talked about it. They said it was a natural, normal reaction men had. Some of them even told you it was the best erection to have sex with. You swallow back the lustful lump in your throat, waving your hand over his face again. No movement.

You bite your lower lip, your hand hovering over his morning wood, desperate to touch it. Yoongi suddenly takes in a deep breath rolling away from you and nuzzling into the pillow. You release the breath you had been holding, turning your back to him, tucking a pillow between your legs. You gently and carefully begin to hump it, tucking your lips into your teeth to hold back your moans. That’s when that warm feeling begins to build, fireworks soon exploding in your brain. You can’t help but whimper, soft cries leaving your now open mouth. You still, your high dissipating, gasping when Yoongi rolls over and wraps his arm around your waist. “Shh. It’s ok Y/N, you're just having a nightmare. I’m here with you.” He mumbles into your ear, his soft snores soon following. You rest your arm over his, intertwining your fingers, falling back to sleep.

A few hours later, you make your way down to your kitchen to find your mother and Yoongi deep in conversation. “Good morning Y/N,” Your mother greets, “How’d you sleep?” “She had a nightmare last night.” Yoongi chuckles, sipping his coffee. “I did not.” You scoff, grabbing a mug. “You did so, you should’ve heard her Ms. Y/L/N whimpering like a puppy. It was cute.” Your mother rubs your shoulder while your face turns beet red. “You having nightmares sweetheart?” “I’m fine mom. Yoongi’s just teasing me like always.” “Well, you two, time to buckle down and get some dorm shopping done. I’m really excited about you two going off and having the whole college experience. I’ll come by after work and pick you both up and we can head to Ikea. Yes?” You both nod, your mother kissing your head as she heads out. “Yoongi call your parents and let them know you’re here please, so they don’t freak. Have a good day and don’t spend it all on the couch!” She hollers back at you both.

“Why did you lie about having a nightmare?” Yoongi asks, eyeing you suspiciously. “Maybe because I didn’t have one.” “I heard you.” “You misheard.” “I didn’t mishear anything. You were practically crying in your sleep.” “I was not. So, drop it.” “Look you even woke up grumpy. It’s ok to have nightmares. We all do sometimes. It’s normal. That’s what you get honestly for watching those stupid horror films.” “Yoongi, please, just shush.” “OK grumpy.” He smiles, sipping his coffee. “What do you want to grab at Ikea today?” You ask him, taking a seat at the table with him, coffee and toast in tow. “You know they say stress can cause nightmares. Are you stressed about moving out of your moms house and into the dorms?” “I didn’t have a nightmare ok! I was masturbating! Now will you just lay off me!” You finally shout. “I knew it! I knew I felt you humping! Oh my God, you dirty little birdie! With me in the bed!” Yoongi starts laughing, holding his tummy. “Shut up ok,” you shout, tossing a corner of your toast at him, “if it wasn’t for your morning wood, I wouldn’t have gotten so worked up.” You word vomit, covering your mouth immediately in shock. Yoongi stills across from you, his eyes wide.

“Are you saying... I… made you… horny?” Yoongi inquires confused. “More like your dick ok, so don’t get all worked up and full of yourself.” You snip, sipping your coffee to keep the flush in your cheeks from becoming visible. Yoongi smiles wide, his gums exposed before giving you a shit eating grin. “Hey, it happens right? I mean we’ve been friends since we were kids. We sleep in the same bed. We were bound to rub against one another at some point. I’d be lying if I said I never rubbed one out after you shoved your ass into me.” He shrugs. “Really?” “Yeah. You’re a beautiful girl. Any guy would react the same.” He smiles. “Except no guy ever has which is why I am going to go to college a complete virgin!” You huff. “Who cares? I’m going to college a complete virgin also, it's not a big deal.” “You’re a guy. It's different for you.” “How so?” “Guys think of taking a girls virginity as some sick conquest. There’s no care or concern towards their feelings. Girls aren't the same with guys. We find it endearing when a guy is still a virgin.” “Yeah right! Girls think a guy is an inexperienced loser if he’s still a virgin.” “Well, if we are still virgins when we hit our second year, let's just sleep together and put each other out of this misery.” You laugh, standing to bring your dirty dishes to the sink. “That’s really funny. I may hold you to that! I'm going to shower.” Yoongi declares, standing and hurrying off to the bedroom.

You both spend the day lounging, watching TV, and making shopping lists for your Ikea trip. By the time your mother arrives back home, Yoongi is fast asleep on the couch. “Long day?” She asks, nodding at your curled up bestie. “Too much dorm planning.” You reply, nudging him gently. He peeks at you with one eye, soon stretching his whole body. “Is your mom home?” He inquires. “I am. Now let’s get a move on. I wanna avoid traffic.” Yoongi pops up quickly and you all head out. “Are your parents sad to have you moving into the dorms?” Your mom asks Yoongi. “Well, I practically live at your place, so I imagine it’s no different for them.” He chuckles. “I don’t think his parents notice he’s gone.” You chime in. “Of course they do Y/N. We parents notice everything. Maybe we don’t say it out loud, but we notice.” Yoongi just nods, deciding not to give input. You know the truth; his parents are strict. They never cared for his interest in music and were not happy to find out he was pursuing it full time in college. They hadn’t been speaking for a while, but it didn’t bother Yoongi much. He just breezed by counting the time till move day.

When you all arrive at Ikea you immediately suggest separate carts, knowing you’re going to fill one up with everything you have in mind. You decide to separate and browse and then meet somewhere in the middle. Yoongi heads off on his own while you and your mom walk through the aisles. “So, how’s he holding up?” She whispers to you. “He’s good. You know Yoongi, he’s super private sometimes. He seems good, normal even. Like nothing is going on at home.” “He’s been at the house a lot. I was worried they kicked him out.” “God no! He just prefers our place.” “Ok, just wondering. Speaking of an inquiring mind. Have you two ever? I mean you’d tell me, right?” “Mom! He’s my best friend!!” “Okay. Okay. I was just asking. It’s not a big deal if you have. I just wanted to know.” “Mom, please. Just stop.” “Ok. OK. Let’s move on. Oh, look at the throws. I love them. What do you think?” “They are nice, but I have so many already.” Two hours pass before you are all done with your shopping, but you feel comfortable with your purchases. “How’d you fair?” You ask Yoongi when you all link up again. “Good. You?” “Really good!” You walk over to the registers and your mom ushers both carts to the check out. “Oh no! Please Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll pay for it.” Yoongi begs, watching your mother wave him away. “My gift to you for making it into college.” She smiles, swiping her card. Yoongi sighs, giving you a pained look. “I’ll pay her back.” “Oh hush. You know she doesn’t mind. She loves you Yoons. Just smile and say thank you.” He nods, walking over and hugging your mother from behind. “Oh! You’re welcome Yoongi.”

“Do you wanna stay at my place tonight? My parents want me to come home. I’d enjoy your company.” Yoongi asks you in the car, showing you a text from his mom. “Yeah sure.” He smiles, chewing at his fingers nervously. “Mom can you drop us off at Yoongi’s tonight?” “No problem.” You head home and drop off all your things, packing an overnight bag quickly and hopping back into the car to Yoongi’s house. You mother waves you off and you both head inside. Yoongi’s mother is in the kitchen prepping for dinner. She looks up briefly at you both, giving you a small smile, that drops when she locks eyes with Yoongi. She nods at him, then turns to go back to what she was doing. “You head up. I’m just going to talk to her.” Yoongi whispers. You nod and take your bag and some of the things Yoongi bought up to his room. You sit on his bed and begin to scroll through your phone when you hear them begin to yell at one another. Your heart pounds in your chest and you move towards the door. She calls him selfish for choosing music over something more sustainable. Then they switch to speaking in Korean. You sigh, feeling your heart break for Yoongi.

You plop down on his bed, hearing his footsteps stomp away at the stairs as he makes his way up to the room. He slams the door when he enters causing you to jump. You drop you phone beside you and look up at him. “Hey you ok?” He shakes his head, making his way toward you. You outstretched your arms, and he falls into your embrace, wrapping his arms around your body. He rests his head on your chest and you run your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry Yoons. I wish she was more understanding.” “It’s almost over. I’m almost free.” He sniffles. It pains you to see him this way and you wish you had more than words for him.

Before you know it, you are awoken to the sound of Yoongi playing music from his laptop. You stretch your body and look over at him. “What time is it? When did I pass out?” “It’s 3am. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” “It’s ok. How are you feeling?” “I’m fine. Sorry you had to listen to us fight.” “Please, don’t apologize! How many times have you been around for my mom and I fighting?” He laughs with a small nod. “Still, it’s rude,” He whispers, “Anyway, I was thinking. About what you said earlier. And I… uh… well… we should. Just do it you know.” Your brow furrows trying to decipher what Yoongi is talking about. “Do what Yoons?” “Be each other’s first…. well…. everything. We’ve known each other forever and we trust each other. I think we should get all the awkward stuff out of the way before we start college that way there's no need to worry when we meet people.” Your eyes pop open as you realize Yoongi is asking you to be his first. “Um, I was kidding.” You blurt out nervously. “I mean, I know at first but maybe it can be for real. No strings attached Y/N. We take it slow, one thing at a time and if it's super weird then we stop.” “It’s going to be weird Yoongi, we are like siblings!” You shout. “Get the fuck out of here! We are not! You literally masturbated to my hard on this morning, please tell me how many siblings do that? Ok, look, just forget I said anything. I'm sorry.” He huffs, putting his headphones back on and turning up his music. You sigh, lying back, mulling the idea over in your head. He is right, you trust him more than any random guy you'd ever meet. It isn't like Yoongi wasn’t hot, you just never thought he would take your offer serious. You turn on your side watching him shake his leg frantically. You wave your hand to get his attention. He looks over at you, tugging his headphones off. “Why don't you come lie down? You can tell me more about the arraignment you had in mind.” He stares at you, completely stoic, before closing his laptop. “We don't have to do anything. I was just, I don't know, overthinking. It was stupid.” He shrugs. You simply tap the bed beside you.

He sighs, pushing away from the desk to make his way to the bed. He lies down facing you, taking your hand in his. You both stare at each other for a minute and you feel your heart flutter. “Kiss me.” You whisper, your body heating from the instant turn on mixed with embarrassment. “What?” He chuckles. “Maybe your idea isn't as crazy as it sounds. I trust you more than anyone. We can start small and work our way up based on how we feel. If it gets weird or uncomfortable then we stop. No strings attached. No emotional involvement. Just two friends helping each other out.” You state plainly, staring at your intertwined hands rather than Yoongi's wide eyes. “You’re serious?” He swallows, his cheeks reddening. “Yeah, only if you want to.” “I mean, yeah, if you want to, I do.” He shyly responds. “Then stop talking and kiss me. We'll start there. We can be each other’s first kiss.” You don’t know why but you both instinctively lick your lips. Yoongi looks down at your mouth, seemingly mesmerized. He swallows hard, the bounce of his Adam's apple making your core burn.

“Here goes nothing.” He smiles, leaning towards you, the smell of his body wash invading your senses. He licks his lips again, rubbing them together right before he presses them gently against yours. You immediately melt into the kiss, your head prickling, heart racing, and it takes you a minute to close your eyes as Yoongi has. Your mind begins to race. How long do we stay like this? Should I pull away? Why does this feel so good? Is he enjoying it? You finally pull away, eyeing Yoongi’s calm face, his eyes still closed as if in a state of bliss. “What? I mean, was it ok?” You ask. He nods. “I was just savoring it. My first kiss.” He chuckles. “Do we keep going?” You ask nervously. His eyes widen. “Do you want to?” “Is that weird?” He shakes his head quickly. “No, I kind of want to also.” This time you lean forward and press your lips to his, raising your hand up to rest at his neck. You think of every movie you’ve ever seen and push your tongue out of your mouth, rubbing it against his lower lip. You swear you feel it right between your thighs, moaning at the sensation. Yoongi moans as well, opening his mouth to grant you access.

You press your tongue against his, realizing that you have no clue what to do next but are completely unable to stop. It’s then that Yoongi impresses you, completely taking over the kiss. He tilts his head a bit, rotating his tongue slowly around yours before removing his appendage from your mouth to suckle on your top lip. Just when you think you have a moment to breathe, he returns his tongue to your mouth, swirling faster, making what can only be described as love to your mouth. You can't stop the soft moans leaving your throat, or how the way Yoongi devours them has you completely soaked. Of all the times you’ve ever touched yourself, you don’t think you’ve ever been as wet as you are now. Curiosity takes over and you reach your hand down from Yoongi’s neck to the front of his pajama pants, dying to see if he is at all affected by this. You pull away from the kiss with a gasp at the feel of his massive erection. “I’m sorry.” You pant, embarrassed that you just grabbed at his hard on. “It's ok Y/N, you can touch it if you want.” He grants in a low lustful tone you’ve never heard before. You heart begins to race and panic hits. “Maybe it's too much. Maybe we should chill for now.” You say quickly, placing your hand flat on his chest.

He nods at your statement, lowering his hand to adjust himself. “I’m sorry. Of course, we can stop. I want to go at your pace. I don’t want to freak you out or make you uncomfortable ever.” “Thank you Yoongi. Honestly, I really enjoyed the kissing. I just want to take our time. It’s my fault I shouldn’t have reached for you.” “Don't apologize. Its ok. I'm ok. I want to go slow too.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Let’s get some sleep.” He whispers, pulling a pillow down from the top of the bed to rest in his lap before pulling you into his arms. “Safety first.” He teases and you both laugh out loud. You bite your lower lip to keep from squealing like a little kid. Your first kiss and who better to have it with then Yoongi. You nuzzle softly into your pillow, whispering goodnight to Yoongi before falling asleep in his arms.

#bts smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga x you

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

on the coastline of memories

a second part to this!

“You shouldn’t do it,” Armin says gently, his eyes an endless sea of sorrow.

“The commander is gone, Captain,” Jean tells him, his voice quiet and bitter. “There is nothing left of her.”

“It would only make the pain so much worse,” Mikasa adds, weary and heartbroken.

“Hange-san wouldn't have wanted you to suffer,” Connie agrees with a faraway look. “None of them would.”

And, maybe, they’re right, Levi thinks, looking at their worn-out faces. Maybe, it’s better this way. Maybe, he should just let go.

He can’t.

So he packs a few changes of clothes, takes a few things from the office, from her office, and boards the first ship, headed towards Odiha.

A journey by plane would take a lot less time, but after all he has been through, after her sacrifice — Levi doesn’t trust planes that much.

***

He gets off the ship and someone immediately approaches him. He turns his head to the side – damn his lost eye – and sees a Cart Titan, Pieck, standing beside him.

“Captain,” she greets. “May we have a talk?”

Levi doesn’t understand the reason for it, what could they possibly talk about it? But he nods and follows after Pieck, as she leads him to a more secluded area.

“I’m not sure if that’s true,” she fidgets, wriggling her fingers and looking slightly above his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. Watching her behave so awkwardly around him, Levi is hit with a realization – she is still so young. How old is she? Twenty? A bit more? She’s not much older than the brats from his own squad. So young and already she’s seen so much, lost too much, but— Levi muses, he was all the same. All of them – Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit - they were young. Too young for this war. Too young to die.

Hange— Hange was too young to die too.

Levi shakes his head, chases those thoughts away. They’re pointless, they bring nothing but pain. Instead he focuses on Pieck.

“There are reports about… someone living in the abandoned cabin near the port. I went to check, albeit from afar, but it seems…” she pauses then, and looks at Levi, tilting her head. “Maybe, you should sit down?”

“I’m not an old man,” Levi grunts, despite feeling very much like one. “What were you saying?”

Truthfully, Levi doesn’t pay much attention to what Pieck is saying. Something about an abandoned cabin, about someone occupying it… what relation does it have to him?

“I was saying,” Pieck looks straight into his eyes, her gaze unwavering. “I think Commander Hange is alive.”

Levi blinks – once, twice, thrice, but he doesn’t understand. What Pieck is saying… it can’t possibly be true. And if that’s not the truth, then it can only be—

“Is this a joke?” he says in a low voice, an almost forgotten feeling of cold fury washing over him. He clenches his hands into fists and they tremble from barely restrained anger, as he glowers at Pieck. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“No!” Pieck cries out, and the distress on her face looks fairly genuine. It chases some of his anger away. “I couldn’t believe it myself, and I’m not one hundred percent sure yet, Commander’s face isn’t the same as it was, but—”

“Show me then,” Levi demands, cutting off her ramblings with a surprising desperation. He can’t believe Pieck, won’t believe her until he sees a living, breathing proof. But he gives her words the benefit of a doubt. It’s not hope, he persuades himself, he can’t afford to hope. He doesn’t think he’d be able to recover when it inevitably gets shattered.

“Of course,” Pieck easily agrees. “But before we go, I have to warn you – Commander isn’t the same as she was.”

“So you’ve told me.”

It’s natural, he thinks. If Hange was able to survive – which he still doesn’t believe in – of course, she wouldn’t be left unscarred. His face isn’t the same as it was too, after all.

“No,” Pieck shakes her head. “You don’t understand. I think she lost her memories. I’ve tried approaching her once, when she was visiting a nearby town, but— Commander didn’t even recognize me.”

Levi reflects on her words. He knows Pieck is sure that she had seen Hange, she wouldn’t have approached him or gone through all the trouble of finding him if she wasn’t. He doesn’t know her that well, but former Cart Titan doesn’t strike him as a cruel or imprudent person.

Pieck is sure that Hange is alive.

Levi doesn’t know how to feel about it. On the battlefield, he trusted Pieck with his life. But it’s not his life that is at stake right now, it’s his heart. And if it breaks one more time, Levi is sure – he will break too.

“Lead the way,” he asks in a quiet, faint murmur.

He doesn’t dare to hope. But as he follows after Pieck, he’s filled with nervous anticipation.

***

“Here,” Pieck raises a hand, pointing her finger at a small cabin at the coastline, hidden between two large trees. “Commander lives here.”

Levi looks at it, waits for something to happen. And then— something happens.

A person walks out of the cabin, oblivious to the company that watches them.

Levi squints his one remaining eye, gets a better look at that person— and feels his knees buckle.

It’s her, it’s Hange, there is no doubt about it. She’s standing far away from him, and Pieck was right, she doesn’t look like she used to – with burns adorning her face and half of her hair missing, but Levi recognizes her right away. It’s the way she holds herself, the way her shoulders are slightly slumped and her head is held high, as she stares at the horizon.

It’s Hange, she’s alive, Levi realizes, and sinks down to his knees.

“Hey, hey!” Pieck looks down at him, alarmed. “Are you alright?”

Levi glances at Hange once again, and he almost smiles. “I’m good.”

***

Once the initial shock washes over him, leaving him only slightly dazed and breathless, Levi gets back to his feet. He wants to go to Hange. He needs to go to Hange, needs to look into her eyes and hold her in his arms. Needs to tell her everything he kept unspoken.

He takes the first step with the intent to do exactly that. Nothing is going to stop him, them, this time, but then— then he remembers.

I think she lost her memories

He remembers Pieck’s words. He remembers Hange’s last years too - the weary look in her eyes, the absence of that loud laughter and bright smile. Remembers how easy it was for her to sacrifice her own life.

Maybe, Hange truly forgot about everything. It’s a blessing then and should be treated as such.

He doesn’t take another step forward. Instead, he turns around and leaves.

It’s better this way, he thinks.

The distance between him and Hange grows bigger and bigger. His heart grows heavier with every step.

***

In the end, despite his best efforts, he just can’t stay away. He knows he should, knows he has to let Hange go, but he can’t.

He’s just an old, broken man, who is too weak to resist.

He never shows his face, afraid that it could trigger Hange’s memories, afraid of what it would do to her, but he visits her cabin frequently.

Hange is isolated from the others, but there are things that she needs. He’s just helping her, Levi persuades himself, as he leaves small packages at Hange’s doorstep again and again.

And if sometimes, he stands in the distance, watching her - on the isolated coastline, no one is a witness to it.

***

Hange gets curious about him, of course. Levi isn’t surprised, she is the definition of that word, after all. She tries to catch him, runs out of the house every time he visits. Luckily, even old and beaten, Levi remains faster than her.

It is tempting, though. It is so tempting to just let Hange see him, to slow his step, to turn around and face her.

But then Levi remembers a quiet, broken whisper.

So just let me go, will you?

And he hurries to walk away, to leave Hange behind, persuading himself that it’s better this way.

***

One morning, he visits Hange at the very break of dawn. The sun is barely up in the sky, the world painted in a gentle pink light. The air is chilly and the cold wind ruffles his hair. The spring has just began, and so Levi wraps the coat tighter, shielding himself from the cold.

He approaches the cabin, his eyes trained at the sea. At the mornings like this, it looks particularly splendid.

Levi tears his gaze away from the mesmerizing view and turns to the cabin. He freezes, as he sees Hange sitting on a porch. He panics and means to flee that instant, but then he looks closer - Hange doesn’t react to him at all.

She’s asleep, he realizes with immense relief.

He realizes another thing then – it’s the first time he’s so close to Hange.

Slowly, he takes another step. She looks a bit ridiculous, with blanket wrapped all over her and only head sticking out, but she’s just like the sea, the sight of her so splendid, it’s hard for Levi to look away.

He climbs up to a porch and softly puts the package down. The sharp, familiar aroma fills his nostrils and the permanent scowl on his face softens, as he notices two cups of tea, standing on the table.

He takes one in his hands, inhales the scent deeper and takes the first sip. The tea is bitter and strong – just as he likes it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, as he puts the empty cup down.

Hange can wake up at any moment, he knows that. He should leave soon, he knows that too. But he stays behind, just for a couple of minutes. He watches Hange snore quietly, marvels at the way her chest moves up and down, at the small puffs of air that escape her mouth. The sight is warming him more than the hot tea. He leans in then, unable to resist. He leaves a soft kiss on forehead.

He gazes at her for another short moment, his chest filling with so much love and longing, it feels like it’s going to explode.

He doesn’t want to leave her, more than anything he just wants to stay with Hange. He wants to start a life with her, a life she promised to him, a life that became impossible when she decided that humanity is more important than their happiness.

But Hange is still alive, she can still find some happiness. In the meantime, he’ll be keeping watch over her.

It’s better this way, he remembers and forces himself to walk away.

***

Hange gets more vigilant after that, and Levi’s annoyance grows stronger. Is that so hard to simply accept his kindness? Why must she always stick her long nose where it doesn’t belong?

It takes him four days of almost constantly watching the damn cabin to catch the time where Hange isn’t waiting on a porch for him. He traveled to another town to get her those damn journals, and that’s how she repays him?

What an insufferable, irritating douche.

What a pair they make.

***

Same as the amount of steps that led to the lab and the amount of turns he took to get to the Commander’s office, the trail to the cabin becomes so familiar that Levi can get to it with his eye closed. He knows every tree that stands along the way, every stone and bump on the road.

And as he walks it one day, Levi notices a new, strange smell. He follows it and finds a plate with pie on it and a cup of tea. A note lies next to it all, and Levi snatches it in his hands.

Since you don't let me thank you any other way, it reads. Levi rolls his eyes. Someone is a little passive aggressive, he muses, taking a bite of the pie.

It’s a little too sweet for his taste, but not awful. He likes it actually. Of course, there is no way in hell he’ll tell Hange about it. Teasing her became a second nature, and so, as he grabs a second piece of pie, he takes out a quill and sits down to write a reply.

A smirk pulls at his lips as he finishes his note. It’s a little rude, he knows, but it’s meant for Hange, the only person who was always able to see through the stern façade. He wonders if she still possesses this ability, or it was lost among with her memories. He hopes it was not.

He puts the note down, takes another piece of pie and leaves.

Work on your cooking skills, four-eyes. The pie was awful. Try adding less sugar next time. I think just a piece of this shitty pie could give someone cavities. Tea was good, though.

***

With the taste of pie still lingering in his mouth, Levi returns to a room he’s renting at a small motel not far from the ruined port.

Someone is standing next to his room, obviously waiting for him. Levi curses softly, recognizing Jean’s long face.

“Captain!” he raises his hand in greeting. “I was waiting for you.”

Dressed in a long coat, three-piece suit and with black hat on his head, Jean is the epitome of a charming young man.

“The kids have surely grown,” the voice in his head murmurs. It sounds suspiciously like Hange.

Jean looks at him, staring Levi in the eye, unflinching. A man in front of him is a far cry from the unruly teenager Levi was so used to.

He’s not much of a brat anymore, he thinks with a mixture of annoyance and pride. Jean grew into a good, noble man.

The beard is still ridiculous in Levi’s opinion.

“Come in,” he sighs, unlocking the door to his room and letting Jean go in first. “What brings you here?”

How were you able to find me, he wants to ask, but he can guess the answer himself. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one Pieck was watching over. Levi wonders how much she told to Jean and the others.

“I came here because of you,” Jean says, taking off his hat.

“Me?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “What do you need me for? Is there some trouble on the island?”

“No,” Jean shakes his head. “But… we’re worried about you. What are you still doing here, Captain? Why don’t you go home?”

Because it’s not my home anymore, Levi wants to say. The home is where the heart is, or so his mother used to say. His heart is living in the abandoned cabin on the coastline. And he won’t leave her this time.

He can’t say all of it to Jean, though. Obviously, he doesn’t know about Hange, he wouldn’t be asking the obvious question otherwise. And Levi can’t tell about her survival to the kids. He wants, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to compromise the safety of that secret. He doesn’t want to sabotage Hange’s chance at finding peace and happiness. Not again.

“It’s not any of your business, Kirstein,” he retorts, his voice harsher than Jean deserves.

Jean sighs, fiddling with his hat. “I saw you coming back from the beach this morning. Are you… still visiting that place?”

The way Jean looks at him – sad and weary – tugs at Levi’s heart. He can’t hold this gaze, and so he turns away, squeezing his hands into fists. He knows how he must look to the others, knows that they probably think that he’s an old, broken man who is going mad with grief.

He’s not mad, though. He is not. Pieck had seen her too.

“Thanks for the concern, Jean,” he says, and he means it. The kids’ worry and care warms his heart. “But I’m fine.”

“You won’t be going home with me then?”

“No,” Levi softly refuses. “I’ll stay here.”

Jean looks like he wants to argue, but Levi sends him a look, silencing him. Jean sighs again. Levi raises his hand to pat Jean on a shoulder, but then he realizes – Jean is too damn tall for him to do that. He tsks in annoyance, awkwardly lowering his hand.

“We’ve all grown so damn big, eh?” Jean teases with a small grin.

Levi scowls at him. Jean’s grin grows bigger.

“C’mon,” Levi says, leading Jean further into the room. “You didn’t just come here to persuade me to go back, right?”

“Well, actually…”

“So tall and still so stupid,” Levi remarks, making Jean chuckle. “Sit down, let me make you some tea. You can tell me how the others are you doing.”

“Thank you,” Jean nods, as Levi puts a cup with steaming tea in front of him. “The others are good, they’ve asked to pass on their best wishes to you. Connie wanted to visit you with me, but he broke his arm just a few days ago.”

“Broke his arm?” Levi asks, sipping his tea. “How did that happen?”

“Ah,” Jean chuckles. “The Marleyans showed us a new mean of transportation, called bicycle,” he frowns slightly, making sure to pronounce all the syllables correctly. “It’s like a horse, but a bit faster. Long story short, Connie tried to master that bicycle. He failed spectacularly, though.”

Levi hums, hiding a smile. “What about the others?”

“Armin is getting used to his new role bit by bit. Mikasa and Annie help him a lot. Historia’s baby is getting even more adorable, if you can believe it.”

Historia showed him her kid, while Levi was still on the island. She even let him carry him around, and Levi still remembers a knot in his stomach that appeared, when he took the kid from Historia’s hands. Jean is right, though, the baby is adorable. Just like his mother.

Jean continues talking after that, telling him a story of how Connie fell asleep during the government’s meeting and how Annie tried to bake a birthday cake for Armin, but Levi doesn’t listen to him anymore. Instead, he imagines a person, who would be sitting at his right. A person who would get worried after hearing about Connie’s broken arm and who would coo over Historia’s baby.

Hange would have loved to hear the news about kids. She would have loved to be a part of their lives.

As he absentmindedly listens to Jean, Levi has to remind himself of the truth that is bitterer than tea:

It’s better this way.

***

Jean returns to the island after spending a few days with Levi, and his life goes back to the already familiar routine. He visits Hange, brings a small gift or essentials, gets annoyed at the seemingly endless stream of questions she writes down in the small notes, curses her curiosity and answers her with sarcastic comments and crude jokes.

The life goes on, and Levi feels at peace.

***

He strolls through a town one day, passing by a flower stall. It’s amazing how quickly the world has recovered. Despite all these deaths, despite ruin and tragedy, people are trying to heal, desperate to get things back to the way they were. This kind of perseverance is admiring, Levi can’t help but think, as he watches an old woman selling a bouquet of daffodils to a shy-looking man.

Suddenly a splash of vivid purple color attracts his attention, and Levi subconsciously takes a step closer.

Hange told him once – when she was pissed drunk after a celebration of Mike’s birthday – that her favorite color is purple. Apparently, it reminded her of lavenders that grew on a field behind her childhood house.

“It always makes me think of warm, sunny days,” Hange said then, a big, happy grin on her face. “Those are my favorite kind. Just remembering them makes me feel so good.”

Before he can stop himself, Levi approaches an old woman and buys a pot of hyacinths. It’s not lavender from the fields behind her house, but hyacinths are very pretty too.

Hange always loved flowers, whenever they walked through town, she always stopped by a flower stall, admiring the bright, beautiful colors. As he takes a pot in his hands, Levi wonders if she would like those flowers too. Would they be enough to make her smile?

She isn't at home when he brings the flowers. It's the first time it happens, and Levi guesses that she probably went to explore what lies beyond her little cabin. Her absence does make him a tiny bit worried, but Levi isn't all that surprised by it. Hange is curiosity personified, after all, and he is glad that this side of hers has returned.

He leaves the flowers on the porch and walks away, wondering when Hange will come back.

***

He checks on her the next day, and finds that his flowers are now standing at the windowsill inside the cabin. There is also a note she left for him. He picks it up, his expression softening when he reads the beginning of the note.

His face changes, though, turning into a frown, when Levi sees a name Onyakopon written at the end. He crumbles the note in his fist and hurriedly leaves, his shoulders slumped.

He comes back to the motel and the sight of Onyakopon waiting for him in the foyer doesn’t surprise him at all.

"Captain!" the man quickly catches up with Levi, falling into step with him.

"I'm not Captain anymore," Levi grumbles, thrusting hands into the pockets of his pants. "I'm retired, if you didn't know."

Onyankopon nods, absentmindedly, and before he even opens his mouth, Levi knows what question he is going to ask him.

“Commander Hange? You knew that she’s alive?”

"None of your business," Levi quickens his step, and Onyakopon grabs the sleeve of his jacket, turning him around.

Levi wants to snap at him, to tell him to fuck off and leave him and Hange alone, but words die in his throat, as he sees the distress and concern etched on Onyakopon's face.

"I don't know why are you keeping all of this away from her, sir, but... She's suffering. She's hurting and she doesn't even know why."

"Did you tell her anything?" Levi asks, turning his face to the side, uncomfortable with the weight of Onyakopon's gaze.

"No," he shakes head, his voice defeated. "I didn't."

"Good," Levi nods. "It's better this way, believe me," he adds and walks away, leaving Onyakopon behind.

***

Despite his best attempts to ignore them, Onyakopon's words strike a cord inside him. They make Levi think, they make him question if—

She's suffering. She's hurting and she doesn't even know why.

If his course of action really is the best one.

It all crashes down on him when he finds a letter from Hange. In it, she asks him to reveal the truth. She begs him to tell her about her old life. He reads the letter again and again, doubt and uncertainty clouding his mind.

Does he have any right? Does he have any right to decide what's best for Hange? Shouldn't it be her own decision?

Maybe, Levi thinks, but then he remembers - a quiet, defeated voice, the dull, lifeless look and he thinks no, Hange deserves a second chance, she deserves a chance to live, to lead a life without pain and regrets.

Forgive me, he writes in response to her letter. But it's better this way.

***

Hange doesn't write another note or letter for him after that. It looks like she's ready to let go of her old life. It's a good thing, Levi knows that. But a part of him is disappointed. A part of him hasn't let go of Hange yet. A part of him hasn't stopped wanting to get her back at his side, right where she belongs.

A part of him regrets leaving that forest.

***

He still visits her, of course. Hange doesn't speak - or, well, write to him - but he continues to help her in what little ways he can.

He finds her journal during one of his visits. He shouldn't pry, he knows, but he takes it in his hands, opening it at a random page. A rough sketch of a bird - seagull, his mind supplies after a moment - is staring at him. The drawing is surrounded by short notes that detail various observations.

Levi flips over a page and sees another drawing - this one of a hyacinth's flower, leaf and root. Underneath Hange wrote more comments and remarks about the flower's characteristics - how it responds to sun deprivation and how many days it can survive without water before it starts wilting.

Levi smiles as he traces Hange's scribbles with his fingertips. Her passion and curiosity has returned, or so it seems. It warms his heart, makes him remember the good old days, when Hange was allowed to be Hange, when she was just a weird, eccentric scientist with an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

It brings back a particular memory, before the world has gone completely to shit, before it wasn't just them against the world, when the others - Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit - were still alive. When everything was so much easier.

He tears out a page out of the journal and writes down a short message.

Are your hobbies so boring that watching the birds is somehow fun for you?

***

Last time he said that, he didn't receive an answer, not really. This time, he does.

***

They start talking again, and their conversations – however short they are – never fail in brightening his day. Every word, every doodle Hange makes for him bring a smile to his face. They make him feel like Hange always made him feel during all those years they knew each other.

They make him feel alive.

Of course, Hange is still annoyingly noisy, she still asks him tons of questions, but this time Levi doesn’t ignore them. He doubts that his favorite color or a fact that he prefers to sleep on his left side would trigger some kind of painful memories.

So he continues talking to Hange, and Hange— Hange continues making him happy.

***

He doesn't believe in fate, destiny, providence or some other shit. He never did. He used to scoff at the madmen and drunkards from Underground who cursed God and fate for their misfortunes and he rolled his eyes every time he heard the cultists preaching about tragedies and sorrows that were destined to befall on people who dared to doubt their teachings.

But he does not know how else to call it, how else to explain the universe's apparent disinclination to keep Hange and him apart.

Is it fate, a miracle, or a mere coincidence? Levi isn’t a poet or philosopher, he’s a retired soldier. He doesn’t understand what force constantly brings them together.

But he’s thankful for it.

***

He is descending from the cabin's porch. Hange is bird watching and he knows from experience that it could take hours, if not more. That's why he allows his steps to be slower and more careful than usual. His wounds have healed but they don't let him forget, inconveniencing him at the most unfortunate of times.

He watches his step, grunting softly as he lowers one leg and then the other. It is only when he gets from under the roof, Levi notices that it's raining. The first droplet falls down on his head and he looks up.

And the time stops, because Hange is standing just a few steps away and she stares right at him and the look in her eyes, the one that was always reserved only for him, it tells Levi - she remembers.

"Levi," she calls him, again and again, and Levi realizes - no one had called him by his name for a long, long time. Ever since that fateful day when he thought that he had lost his heart forever.

But his heart is still with him, his heart is still alive. His heart is standing right in front of him and calls out his name.

His hands tremble with the desire to touch her, to feel her, and he clenches them into fists, stopping himself.

He has to make sure first. He has to be certain, so, taking a deep breath, he asks.

"So your memories returned?”

"They did," Hange answers, and, oh god, the sound of her voice. He missed it so much.

"And you..." his knees feel weak, and he shifts his weight from one foot to another. "And you aren't freaked by this?"

Aren't you angry with me, he wants to ask. What do you feel, he needs to know. He doesn't ask any of it, though.

He's afraid to hear the answer.

"I'm still processing," a tentative smile curls at her lips, as if answering Levi's unasked question. "Would you like to… help me with it?”

Would he like to? There is nothing more he ever wished for.

“I know I’ve talked about living in the forest," Hange adds. "but… will the coastline be good enough for you?”

The forest, coastline, city, what difference does it hold?

Home is where the heart is. And he's tired of contradicting that statement.

“You’re more than enough," he replies.

They start walking at the same time, as always perfectly in sync. And as they hold each other tightly, ignoring the rain, forgetting the pain, Levi thinks—

We are together - and it's so much better this way.

#it's basically the same thing but from levi's pov this time!#hope you guys enjoy #levihan #levihan fanfiction

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pogueshomecoming · 4 years

Text

like to be you - jj maybank x reader

requested? nope

description: based on the song by shawn mendes and julia michaels, kook!reader and jj get in a fight about his dad and it reiterates that their lives are very different

masterlist, taglist, and request links are in my bio :)

warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of cuts and bruises, angst, arguments

word count: 2.5k

The chateau's door opens with a creak, and your attention is pulled away from the conversation Pope and John B are having. JJ stumbles in, barely able to walk. You're on your feet in an instant.

"JJ?" John B follows after you, Pope trailing behind him. JJ makes it four more steps before he collapses to the ground, whimpering in pain. His hair falls out of his face to reveals his bloody and bruised face.

You fall to your knees right next to him, scooting closer so his head can rest in your lap. He groans and tries to curl into himself when you lift his shirt to see if he's bleeding anywhere else. "JJ, what the hell? Do we need to go to the hospital?"

Concern fills your voice, but JJ shakes his head. "I need a shower. I'll be fine tomorrow."

JJ goes to sit up, and you have to keep your hands pressed to his back as a guide. There's no way he'd be able to stand in the shower alone.

"Was this your dad again?" Pope crouches in front of the blonde boy, taking in the bruises on his shins that looked way too similar to a boot's imprint.

"Yeah." His voice is weak, strained from using his energy, and probably screaming at his father. Your blood boils. At what point will JJ stop going home? What would it take?

"I'll help you into the shower." You mumble, trying not to show your anger because it's not JJ you're mad at. JJ tries to smile but ends up wincing, and the boys help him to his feet. John B and Pope help your boyfriend into the bathroom while you grab fresh towels from the bag of laundry you brought over this morning.

He's sitting on the toilet lid by himself when you enter the bathroom, his shirt already on the floor. You can see two more cuts on each side of his ribcage in addition to the busted lip and eyebrow. The bruise on his hip is the worst. Usually, his blood has dried by the time he gets here, but it looks like he's reopened the wounds.

"God, JJ. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts." You shut the door behind you and quickly turn on the shower. It's not long before steam starts to fill the room.

"Are you going to get in with me?" JJ's voice is soft as he undresses his lower half.

"If that's what you want." He nods, and you start to undress, too, letting him use you as a crutch once you're both ready to get in.

The silence between you two isn't uncommon. JJ knows there's not much for you to say when he's like this because he knows you hate it. You hate seeing him hurt.

You use a washcloth to scrub around the cuts gently while he watches the water turn red and swirl around the drain. One of them could need stitches, but you know he won't listen. JJ uses sleep as a cure-all.

He leans against you when you've finished cleaning his wounds, letting his forehead press into the crook of your neck. His fingers are tracing patterns in your back.

"Don't you think it's time to get out of there, J? You could move in here permanently." Your voice is quiet, and the sounds of the shower would've drowned it out if JJ wasn't skin to skin with you.

"What do you mean?" JJ pulls back, so now his hands are on your elbows.

You sigh, not sure if this would be a touchy subject in JJ's mind. "Like... this happens every time you go home, so you could not go home anymore? I don't like seeing you hurt for no reason."

"Y/N, I avoid my father as much as possible already. It sounds a lot like you're telling me it's my fault if I keep going back there." JJ furrows his brow and shakes his head, indicating that he's bothered by your words.

"No, no, of course it isn't your fault. I know you already avoid him. I just thought that maybe it's time to move away from that situation and separate yourself."

JJ is quiet, and you look at your feet, knowing you've upset him, and it's too late to take it back.

"I'm here enough. John B isn't responsible for me. It's fine, Y/N. I'll only go when he's not there from now on." JJ squeezes your arms, trying to be reassuring, but you've still got that pit in your stomach, and you've never been good at keeping your mouth shut.

"What are you talking about? John B would love for you to stay here, even more so if it meant you were staying out of danger. My family has a guest house. If you're worried about bothering JB, I can-"

"I'm a Pogue, Y/N, not a Kook. Your parents wouldn't let me stay, and I don't want to. That's not how this works. I'm not taking a handout. We've talked about it before. Not everyone wants what the Kooks have, alright? Can we drop it?" His voice rises, having more of a bite as his anger grows, and he lets go of you.

"Hey, this is not about me being a Kook. I hate when you throw that in my face, and you know it. This is about you always going back there because you think you deserve what he does to you!" The words hang in the air after you've spoken them. The only sound between the two of you is the water running. You're sure that your friends heard the argument through the paper-thin walls.

JJ visibly falters. His shoulders slump, and he starts to fiddle with his hands as he turns his back to you. After a moment, his body begins to shake as he holds back tears. You're not sure if there's anything you can say to make it better.

"Wait, J, I-" You stop talking when he turns around abruptly.

"I can't, okay? I can't leave him there. He thinks the groceries magically appear in the fridge. He thinks that he's getting paid leave from work. I work my ass off to provide for him. What happens when I stop? He'd fucking die, and then it's my fault. After everything he's done to me, I hate him. I fucking hate him, but I can't leave him."

JJ doesn't wait for a response. Instead, he gets out of the shower. You're shocked. He's never walked away from an argument. Sure, you've fought before, but it never ends with one of you leaving.

You wait until you hear the bathroom door shut to turn the water off, and then you take your time drying off. There were no clothes for you to change into, so you make sure your towel is tucked tightly before you exit the bathroom.

John B, Pope, and Kie are sitting on the couch. Kie must've arrived in the last few minutes, but the looks on their faces confirm that they heard everything. They try to look away once they realize you're looking at them, but it's too late.

"Goodnight, guys." You say weakly, feeling like you're going to cry any second now. It feels stupid to cry. JJ is the one who's hurt, but you don't want that for him anymore.

In response, they all mumble goodnight, and you turn on your heel to enter the guest room.

JJ is already in bed, the covers are pulled to his waist, and he's facing away from the door. The bandages and alcohol pads and trash that comes with that is on the dresser, so you know he's already done what you usually do for him.

Both of you are silent as you move around the room to get dressed. With each step closer, you start to dread getting into bed. When you have nothing else left, you ease in as gently as possible after turning off the light.

You didn't imagine the bed to feel so cold, and it triggers the tears you'd been holding back for JJ's sake. If he notices, he doesn't do or say anything. You lay on your back and look at the ceiling, letting your tears fall past your ears and into your hair.

The relationship you have with your father is hugely different than JJ's with his. You've never been scared to go home, you've never flinched from someone's touch, and you've never had to yearn for a parent's love and affection. The two of you live very different lives.

"I don't want to go to bed like this," JJ says softly. You hear the motion of the blankets before you feel the warmth of his hand enclosing your wrist.

"I'm sorry, J. I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm not that one who got hurt. I'm so-"

"Tired. We're both tired. I'll never judge you for crying. There's nothing left to say. Let's call a truce."

It wasn't an outright acceptance of your apology, but it was close. There were still more things you needed to say, but JJ is right. You're both tired, and it's time to go to sleep. For now, you'll stay in this weird in-between spot where you don't know if he's still upset or not.

"Yeah, sounds good." You choke out, managing so sound somewhat natural.

JJ doesn't retract his hand, but he doesn't move any closer, leaving you to fall asleep grasping onto the little warmth you're getting from him.

You wake up before JJ. Somehow your internal alarm clock is always set for earlier in the morning when your anxiety is high. He's snoring softly next to you, the bruises on his face already looking better.

JJ rolls from his side to his back, the covers falling off of him to reveal that he's almost bled through his bandages. You scoot out of bed as quietly as you can.

After leaving the room to brush your teeth, you come back with a damp washcloth and gather the medical supplies from the dresser. You start to tend to JJ's wounds while trying not to wake him up. What is he going to say when he wakes up? Is he still going to be upset with you?

It was naive of you to think your anxiety would go away overnight, but you're not sure you want to have another conversation about it. JJ stirs before you're ready, and his pretty blue eyes look at you curiously.

He said there wasn't anything left to say last night, but there was and still is. However, when you make eye contact, all of it goes out the window. You blank.

"Thanks for cleaning that up, baby." JJ smiles sweetly. You're head starts spinning with possibilities. Is he going to act as if nothing happened? Will he throw it in your face randomly to make you feel worse about it? Nothing that JJ has ever done previously would lead you to believe he'd do that, but it's where your mind takes you.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" That always cheers both of you up, but you can't tell if you're offering for him or yourself.

"Sure, sweetheart. It's too cold to swim, but I bet our spot will be open."

There was a specific tree on the beach that you and JJ liked to lay under sometimes. It had the perfect amount of shade and sun because you got cold too quickly, and JJ the opposite. Out of all of the memories you have, those are the fondest.

By the time you get to the beach, JJ still seems as normal as ever. You hadn't expected him to wake up screaming or yelling, but you did think he'd say something else—anything to make you feel like he didn't hate you for what you said would be nice.

JJ pulls you down onto the blanket with him to assume your regular cuddling position, but it's modified slightly with his bandages. "You don't have to act like I'll break, Y/N. I've survived a lot of things so far, so accidentally putting your hand over my wound isn't going to do shit."

"Alright, alright." You allow yourself to giggle despite your mind telling you that he's angry with you.

The two of you trail off into silence after a few moments of laughter, both deep in thought. You nervously pick at your nails, wondering what JJ is thinking about. Does he have a speech he's rehearsing in his head? Is he waiting for the right moment?

"Y/N, how could you? You didn't-"

"I'm sorry, JJ. About what I said, I didn't mean to come at you like that. You should still be mad at me, I-" you start to ramble, but JJ cuts you off.

"What? I was going to say you didn't give me my good morning kiss. You always do. Are you still thinking about the fight? It's fine, Y/N, really. Look at me," JJ shifts so you can turn to face him.

"It was harsh, but I needed to hear it. In some ways, I think you're right. Sometimes I blame myself for my mother leaving, which is why he's the way he is, so it comes full circle. I know that's fucked up, but it's getting better. I'm getting better. Why didn't you tell me you were still worrying about it?"

You have to ignore your heartbreaking at his words to be able to talk. JJ has let his father into his head, but you can imagine how hard it would be not to.

"I don't know. You stopped the conversation last night, and I didn't want to push anymore than I already did. I figured I'd wait until you were ready to talk about it, but I've been anxious all morning thinking about it." You take a deep breath.

"Sometimes, when we fight, it scares me because I feel like I'm going to lose you a little each time. We get so caught up in the moment, and I just... We're so different. I don't know what it's like to be you."

JJ places his hands on either side of your face, and at the same time, he wipes a tear that has fallen onto your cheek.

"You can always tell me what's inside of your head, alright? No matter what you say, I won't love you any less. You're right, you don't know what it's like to be me, but I'm in the same boat. Our differences aren't what defines us, right? We've said that since the beginning." JJ reassures you by giving you a quick and sweet kiss.

"I love you, J."

You shove yourself into his chest, and maybe you miss the wince on JJ's face, but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't mind. The weight you've been carrying on your shoulders since he left you in the shower last night is gone.

But you might disagree with JJ. Your differences are what makes you right for each other. JJ is the one that pulls you out when you're stuck far in the depths of your mind, and you're the one who cleans his cuts and bruises. You don't understand what he goes through, but you're still there to pick up the pieces, and that's all that matters to him.

jj maybank taglist + mutuals: @wlwkie , @jjjmaybank , @shawnssongs , @hopelesswritingxd , @newsiestrash123 , @millie-753 , @thatsonobx, @jjtheangel , @obxkie, @baileysb1tch, @ohbx, @babysbestlife , @psychicforest , @fanficscuziranout , @maebanks , @diverdown06, @pogue-writings , @maybankdreams , @thelocalpogue , @maybe-maybanks , @dpaccione , @teenwaywardasgardian , @extratragic , @pixelated-pogues , @kitluvs1 , @a-brooding-bird , @ilovejjmaybank , @damonsalvawhore27 , @beth-winchester21 , @danicarosaline , @sunwardsss, @outerbanksbro , @collecting-stories , @yelyahryan , @brightcosmos , @ssprayberrythings , @abbiesthings , @sadcupofcoffee , @millenialpoems, @niya-savage , @queenofthepouges , @poguepunk , @perkeusjackson , @fanofmany , @ultradolans , @love-chx , @outerbankslut , @cognacdelights , @alternativehp , @dmonchld , @bricksatanakinswindow

#jj maybank #jj maybank fic #JJ Maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks fics #obx #outer banks imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank request #jj maybank outer banks #obx jj #jj x reader #jj obx

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 9

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: Just want to say this is the second to last chapter of this fic, and it feels bittersweet. This has been a fun multi-chapter to write (my first ever!), and I’m already getting way too excited for the next. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. It really makes me smile to see the reactions and kind comments after uploading each chapter, I really appreciate it so much. Happy penultimate chapter with our special agent babes & happy reading :))

TW//: brief and vague mentions of assault and sexual harassment

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the–carousel , @maya-asturias , @itsdesiree86 , @tvshowsaremyhappyplace , @stephanie708

Read on AO3 or below

Jay wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, or even how long he was out before his eyes slowly blinked open to a dimmed light peeking in through Hailey’s window. It still seemed to be daytime, and it still seemed to be raining, but other than that he had no clue how much time had passed. He promptly became conscious of the way she charmingly snored into his chest, the way her leg was tangled up with his, and the way it felt so natural to be laid up like that with her. It was all almost enough to make him forget how they had gotten in that position in the first place. Almost enough to make up for all of the bad stuff, but not quite. The more he came out of his groggy state, the more he remembered the details of everything she had revealed to him. With that came a resurgence of anger, and the strongest urge to climb out from her grasp and go after the man who had hurt her.

He couldn’t count how many times he had dreamed of waking up next to her. It was too many times throughout the years that he allowed his mind to drift, imagining a world where he’d wake up with her cuddled in his arms, her golden locks sprawled out across his pillows, and the smell of her shampoo fresh in his nose. He would wonder what it would be like to kiss her, to have her fingers in his hair, her touch on his skin, and he would wonder what it was like to be loved by her. Yet, in all of those fantasies, he never imagined things would happen the way they did. That their first kiss would come after she dished out the details of a trauma, that it would come after he blurted out the words I love you, or that he would blurt them out in the middle of her apartment in rain-soaked clothes. He also never imagined their first time sharing a bed would end with a desperate desire to flee it, but there he was.

The stillness of her body and the evenness of her breath told him she was still sleeping. He knew she needed it after the night she had. So, he suppressed that urge to leave and settled his mind into staying right where he was. He looked down, running his fingers lightly across her bruised hands, taking in every break of the skin and every discoloration that lined her knuckles and fingers. It was a visible representation of her strength, the fighter in her, but it was also a symbol of the trauma she endured. The perfect bittersweet metaphor for his emotions in that very moment.

“You know, poking and prodding at a girl’s wounds isn’t the best way to wake her up,” she mumbled as he did so, exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Sorry, just checking that you’re alive,” he said playfully, assuaged by the lightness in her voice and their ability to joke with one another after everything that transpired. She laughed softly before bringing a finger up to draw invisible patterns against his chest.

“You know, you make a great pillow,” she said, raising her head up to flash him a smile. He smiled back, but it quickly faded when he noticed the split on her lip and the bruises that loomed behind the curls covering her chest. He brought a hand up, tenderly tracing over the cut on her lip with his thumb.

“He’s going to pay for what he did,” he said to her, trying to maintain an even tone. She swallowed, crossing her arms on his chest and letting her head fall against her elbow.

“This is my battle, let me handle it,” she told him straightly.

“Hailey, please. I’m your partner, let me be there for you,” he requested, earnestness in his voice. She was quiet, eyeing him as she bit the inside of her cheek. If either of them had learned anything after four years of partnership, it was that no matter how much one of them tried to push away, the other would always be on the other side, more than prepared to push right back. It was a losing argument she was starting, and they both knew that. Her eyes stared blankly behind him as she thought it over, and slowly reconnected their gaze as she responded.

“Fine, but follow my lead? I want to do things my way,” she finally settled. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, but a wide smile crept across his face.

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said. He knew they had probably reached a point when saying that had become cheesy, but it was their thing, and it felt like a fitting time to remind her of it. She gave him a soft grin, dipping her head in agreement before pushing herself off of him, making him instantly miss her warmth against his body.

“For the record, I don’t think partners kiss each other and share a bed while one of them is half-naked,” she said as she climbed out from the duvet, clutching at her ribs as she did so. It hurt him to see her in pain, but he found it in him to smile at her words. She exited the room, and he raised his voice slightly so she could hear him.

“For the record, you kissed me first,” he chaffed. She reentered the room with a bashful grin, his clothes from before in hand as she came to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sat up against the headboard and she set his clothes down beside her. Then she looked at him and the grin fell from her lips, she inhaled sharply before speaking.

“Listen, about what you said earlier…” her voice dropped slowly as the words came out. She didn’t have to specify what she was referring to because he already knew. She stammered, and her eyes circled the room nervously before he stopped her. It was clear she wasn’t ready to say it back, and he was okay with that.

“Look, Hailey. We don’t have to figure this out right now. Today was heavy and emotional, and I’m sure this thing with-“ he almost said his name but he stopped himself. “Taking care of what happened is more important than anything right now. I meant what I said, but I didn’t say it with any expectations. I’ve been wanting to tell you that for longer than you know, and quite honestly, I'm surprised I finally got the guts to. For now, I’m going to be by your side in any way you’ll have me. We can figure out the rest later,” he told her, reaching out to grab her hand. She smiled, bringing her other hand to cover his.

“While we’re adding things to the record,” he started, jabbing at her tease from before. “I really enjoyed kissing my partner and would happily share a bed with her again… while half-naked,” he teased with a wink. She rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together into a smothered grin before taking his clothes and shoving them into his chest.

“Get dressed, Halstead,” she commanded before rising from the bed. He watched as she made her way out of the room, his eyes traveling with her.

“Hey,” she said, stopping in the doorway as he picked up his still damp clothes to put on. He looked up at her as she pursed her lips to the side, almost like she was debating whether or not to say what she was intending to say.

“I really enjoyed it too,” she said quietly before turning and disappearing into the other room.

He blushed as a large grin erupted across his face, and he was glad she didn’t stick around to see how smitten he was just by those simple words.

One of his biggest fears about finally confessing his feelings was that she wouldn’t feel the same way. That he would leave those feelings in the air, to not only be rejected, but ruin the great thing they had as partners and best friends. While she didn’t say it back, everything that took place after his confession gave him more assurance than any words could have. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know she had feelings for him, and he knew they needed to figure out whatever there was to be figured out with Walker before they made any major changes in their relationship.

He put on his slightly soggy clothes and she changed into something more presentable before exiting her apartment back to headquarters. He flagged them a cab when they made it to the street so that they could avoid having to trek through the rain. Jay’s eyes followed the rain droplets racing down the side of the window of the cab, and when he looked over Hailey was doing the same. He smiled to himself as he looked at her, and diffidently looked away when she caught him. Except this time he wasn’t nearly as embarrassed as all of the previous times when she had caught him stealing a glance. This time it was amusing more than anything, especially when his eyes cut over and he caught her doing the same. It was a light moment that effectively distracted them from what was to come.

In the elevator, the way her fingers fidgeted with the ends of her coat sleeves told him how nervous she was. She had a good poker face, an impressive way of appearing calm in the face of fear. Looking at the stone-faced expression on her face, you would think every part of her was fearless, invincible. It was a skill he saw her use so many times with offenders three times her size and even with Voight. However, he came to learn that every nerve in her body during those moments rested in her fingers. She either nervously tapped the sides of her thighs, the surface that her fingers rested on, or in this case, pulled at the ends of her sleeves. He reached over, sliding his fingers between hers as the elevator ascended to their floor, causing her to release an alleviated breath. When the elevator reached their floor they quickly pulled apart, and he took a deep breath before stepping out.

Drake was the first to see them, and he sent them a puzzled look.

“Are you two okay?” He asked, a look of concern on his face. Jay looked over at Hailey, waiting for her to respond as he didn’t want to speak for her.

“All good. Um… where’s Burrows? We need to talk to him,” she finally said, maintaining a stolid expression.

“He and Bennett are out right now, what’s going on? I can call them in if it’s urgent,” he offered. Jay opened his mouth to respond, ready to reveal everything to their boss, but she cut him off before he could get a full word out.

“No, it’s okay. We can wait. Sorry for flaking today, I- we had something personal to take care of,” she said, Jay creasing his brow with confusion.

“It’s fine. Let me know if I can do anything,” he said hesitantly. Jay could tell Drake knew she was holding something back, but he didn’t press her for it. Hailey turned to walk away and he followed. She walked down the hall and to the locker room, Jay followed quietly, disoriented by her evasion.

“Why didn’t you tell him what happened?” Jay asked when they reached the concealment of the room.

“Because I want to do this my way. Not some bureaucratic, hoop-jumping way that might not even end in my favor. Trust me, these systems aren’t set up to protect people like me in these situations. They’re just not,“ she shook her head as her words dropped off. She began pacing the floor and Jay sat down on a bench between the lockers, looking up at her as her words took him by surprise.

“Wait, it sounds like… Are you talking from experience? Hailey, has this happened before?” He asked, frowning at the thought. She stopped her pacing, standing before him with a defeated look on her face. She nodded slowly before coming to sit in front of him on the bench.

“Nothing quite as bad as this time,” she said softly, twisting her fingers together in her lap. “When I was on patrol, I had this partner. My original partner had moved up to detective before me, so I had a revolving door of partners until I eventually made it into Robbery-Homicide. This guy was charming, a good cop, except he didn’t understand the concept of boundaries and the word no. It started out as inappropriate compliments and seemingly innocent touches on my shoulder or my forearm... until it was fingers grazing my thigh or hands brushing against my chest. Me telling him no didn’t work, so I ended up reporting him for sexual harassment. He was much older than me, had been on patrol for years before I even graduated the academy, and he had a clean record, so when it made it to the higher-ups, all they did was separate us. He was in the wrong but got to move on while I became known around the precinct as the girl who cried harassment. What happened here was way worse than that, and while I was fortunate enough to fight him off before… anyway, the next girl may not be so lucky. I can’t take that chance. He can’t just get a slap on the wrist and move on, he’s gotta be done,�� she said, determination in her voice. Jay wasn’t sure how to react. He had never been in a situation like that, and he never would be. He understood her frustration with the system, but he also thought the only way for Walker to truly pay was for an official allegation to be lodged against him.

“Hails, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can’t even imagine what that’s like. I just can’t,” he shrugged. “I know you don’t trust the system, rightfully so, but I think things could be different this time around. Drake would back you all the way, and you have me. I’m not going to be satisfied until you get justice for this,” he told her firmly.

“I know, I know, but Jay this isn’t as simple as that. So many things can go wrong if it gets out of Drake’s hands. At that point nobody, not him, not you, not even I would have control over what happened next. If I force him out, threaten to turn him in, make him leave, the power stays in my court and this all goes away with a guarantee,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but what happens when he gets a little too drunk with his coworker at his next job? It may not be in the bureau, but that doesn’t change the fact that someone still becomes a victim. We need to do this right. Not only does he need permanent termination from the bureau, but he needs to be disciplined for what he did. Plus, as bad of a thought as it is, realistically, you aren’t his first. Are we just supposed to deprive potential others of their justice?” He fought back.

“I-“ she began. He cut her off.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but let me just say this one thing. We took this job because we knew we could make a difference here. And we have. We’ve taken the worst of the worst off the streets and saved innocent people from so many horrible situations. But, how much of a difference can we say we’ve made if we aren’t addressing the problems that exist within? Do you remember what you told me when I was nervous before our first day? You said we put ‘em in check, and they sort the rest out themselves. Well, that’s what we can do here. We can make sure the system protects those who need protecting in these situations, and we can make sure everyone knows that. The change starts with us, Hailey, and they sort out the rest. Look, I’ll back you with whatever you decide, I just needed you to hear my two cents,” he finished, tilting his head down as he waited for her response. She let out a sigh before raising her eyes from the floor.

“You really think Drake will have my back?” She asked him, a hopeful look in her eyes.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” he admitted firmly. She bobbed her head lightly, and they stood.

“Fine, but let me tell him. I can do it alone,” she told him just before they exited the locker room. He agreed, waiting outside of his office as she told him. When she came out, her eyes were red with tears, but she bore a look of relief that told him the conversation went well. When Walker and Daisy finally returned from the field, Drake emerged from his office immediately.

“Agent Burrows,” he called out, stopping the man in his tracks. A look of fear overcame him as he paused before the agent in charge.

“As of today, you are stripped of your authority and duties as a Special Agent of the FBI, pending investigation by the internal review board and the Department of Justice. Badge and gun,” he said to him, his jaw set tightly as he addressed the man.

Jay looked over at Hailey who carried an impassive expression as she watched the ordeal. His eyes surveyed the room, taking in every reaction to the scene before them. Most carried a frown, others carried a very indifferent expression, but nobody appeared to look on with surprise. Daisy’s expression was the most telling. As his partner, you’d expect her to come to his defense, to be utterly astounded by what was happening. Instead, she watched with a knowing look, like it was something she had half-expected for years.

After Walker handed the boss his badge and gun, he shook his head aggressively, eyes circling the room to find Hailey. When they did, he began to approach her. Jay stepped forward, a protective stance ready to give the man what he had coming. Instead, Hailey held out an arm, pushing him back as the man approached. He reluctantly stepped back, but he maintained a steady glare at the man. He let his mind fantasize about laying him out right there, but he restrained himself, giving Hailey the control she deserved. She was toe-to-toe with him, looking up as he towered over her, maintaining a plucky look on her face despite the way he was trying to intimidate her.

“You played me,” he said. A disgusted scoff escaped from her mouth. “You’ve been leading me on since you got here. Now you want to ruin my life because you changed your mind?” he griped.

“Leading you on?” she repeated with a laugh. “If you mistook me being friendly with you, a coworker, as me leading you on then that’s your problem. I’m not the one ruining your life, you did that all on your own,” she spat at him.

“You’re going to be sorry for this,” he bit back.

“The only thing I’ll be sorry for is ever treating you with any ounce of decency. Drunk or not, you’re a prick for what you did, and you’re never going to get a chance to do it to another girl ever again,” she returned. He stepped forward as if he were going to unleash his anger on her, but Jay quickly stepped in, pushing aggressively against the man’s chest.

“You better get out of here before I put you on your ass. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to add to those bruises she already put on your sorry face,” Jay told him through gritted teeth. The man huffed and stormed out, escorted by two agents following close behind. The second he was gone, Hailey let out a sigh of relief as if she were holding her breath throughout the entire interaction. He brought a reassuring hand to her shoulder and Daisy approached from the other side of the room.

“Jesus, Hailey. Are you okay?” She asked, eyeing the visible evidence of Walker’s actions across her body. Hailey nodded softly, and a sad look filled Daisy’s eyes.

“I’m sorry. I thought all of his, whatever it all was… I thought he was harmless. I probably should’ve known,” she confessed, her voice trailing off.

“None of this is on you. He was somewhat harmless... until he was drunk. You know what they say though, true personalities come out when people are drunk,” she shook her head with her words. Daisy just nodded in response.

“Let me know if I can do anything for you, please,” she said.

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate you, Dais,” Hailey told her, bringing a hand to the woman’s forearm briefly.

After everything, they stuck around the office for a while. Jay watched as several others approached Hailey, checking to make sure she was okay, voicing their support for her. They didn’t announce what actually happened, what led to Walker being stripped of his badge, but based on the confrontation in the middle of the bullpen and the bruises on each of their faces, everyone must have put the pieces together. As he watched, he hoped she’d felt a sense of support she didn’t feel all those years ago when the department turned their back on her. He hoped that it comforted her, made her realize she made the right decision to turn him in. When things started to die down, Drake instructed Hailey, Daisy, and Jay to go home. He knew they all needed to decompress, and he also knew they would’ve stayed for the rest of the shift if he didn’t say anything.

“Ready to go?” Hailey asked Jay as she approached him at his desk. He nodded, rising from his chair and grabbing his jacket from the seatback. He had a brief flashback in his mind to earlier that day when he did the same thing. That moment felt like a lifetime ago, but he was consciously aware of the juxtaposition of those two moments. Earlier that day he was grabbing his coat, worried out of his mind about Hailey, but at that moment he was grabbing it with a sense of peace that everything would be okay.

They rode the elevator to the lobby in silence. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the small space, both eyeing the digital glow of the numbers beside the door as it counted down to one. The silence continued as they walked down the street. It was nighttime by then, and the rain had finally stopped, leaving the familiar petrichor emanating from the sidewalk. The day began with a rainstorm, a horrible mess completely out of their control, but it was ending with that smell of rain like everything had been washed clean and they were getting a fresh start.

Before he realized it, they were reaching the street corner. The corner where she’d turn to walk home to her apartment, and he’d turn the other direction to walk home to his. He wasn’t sure where they stood. He told her he loved her. She kissed him. They shared a bed together. Then, they had to leave that small blissful bubble they created to confront the man who attacked her. He knew that night wasn’t the proper time to have that conversation, to figure out what things would mean for them. He didn’t know when that would be, but he did know that in the low light of the streetlamp above them, she looked so beautiful. She looked up at him with a what now look in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and tell her a million times over how much he loved her. But he didn’t. She was the one who just went through something unimaginable, the one who was probably still reeling from having so many world-shaking things happen to her in the past 24 hours, so he was letting her write the rules. She eventually broke their silent gaze with her quiet voice.

“Thank you… for everything. I don’t want to even think about what would have happened today if you weren’t around,” she confessed, looking up at him with slightly glossy eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me. You don’t ever have to thank me. You know I’m always going to be there for you,” he returned.

Because I love you, was what he wanted to add, but he didn’t because he didn’t know where her head was. Yet, something in the look on her face told him she knew it even if he didn’t say it. She inhaled, shifting her weight to one leg as her head cocked up at him.

“I know you said earlier that you’ll be by my side in any way I’ll have you,” she began, causing him to hold the breath he had just taken. “I need just a little more time to figure that out. This entire day has been incredibly long and exhausting, and I really don’t trust myself or my feelings right now,” she choked, the heaviness of the day written across her face. As much as he understood, the words hurt, and he hung his head low with a nod to conceal the splintered expression that overcame his face. She reached out, grabbing his hand in hers.

“I’m not saying no. I’m not saying I don’t feel the same because trust me, I-“ she cut herself off. “I just need time,” she requested. With that, he forced himself to lift his spirit, raising his head back up with an affirming nod and sending her that soft and reassuring look that seemed to come so naturally with her.

“Of course. Take all the time you need,” he said, squeezing her hand back gently. With that she nodded, pulling away before making her way past him, headed down the street to her apartment. He watched as she walked away. He didn’t know how much time she’d need, but he couldn’t wait until the moment when she was walking back to him. He knew the wait would be agony, but he also knew for her he would wait forever. He inhaled deeply, that smell of rain filling his senses, giving him hope that their fresh start would be well worth the wait.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic #justmypartner fics #collection of Em’s fics

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stutterfly · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right 03 | Local Networking | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.9K

Last time on SR02: Drinking games are fun but you probably went a little overboard last night when you let your feelings of animosity towards Jungkook get the better of you. The experience has at least allowed you to work through some of your anger. Then he surprised you by helping get you to bed when you started feeling sick… so he’s not all bad. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to patch things up?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, jealousy, sexual tension, sloppy makeout sessions, Joonie is Y/N’s best boi, girls helping girls, friendship feels

CW: drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, mentions of negative body image

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (3/?- Ongoing)

AN: I was inspired to write this next instead so please enjoy! Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook awakens to Seokjin’s bony fingers poking his side. He attempts to roll over with a grumble, forgetting where he willingly chose to spend the night before a collision with the floor reminds him. Seokjin cackles out a squeaky sound as his friend groans and reaches for the couch cushion to bring him to his feet.

“How did you get in here?” He murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “Ugh… what time is it?”

“Is that any way to greet a guest? Didn’t I say I’d be back to make breakfast for Y/N?” Seokjin is already picking up the hoodie partially hidden beneath the blanket nearby. “Hmm what’s this?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he tries to snatch it back from him, but Seokjin has already turned away and draped it around his back. He quickly feeds his arms through the sleeves and contentedly sighs.

“Oh, little Jungkookie…” he begins in a teasing voice, “don’t tell me you’re stealing her clothes now and wearing them like some creepy pervert.”

“Tch. No. She left it on the couch.” Jungkook flares his nostrils and scoffs. “Take it off. You’re going to stretch it out.”

“It’s oversized. It’s fine,” Seokjin fires back, holding up a floppy sleeve and waving it in his friend’s face.

Jungkook crinkles his nose in disgust, catching the subtle scent of his friend already diluting yours. “God. Stop wearing so much cologne.”

Seokjin forcefully blinks, briefly scrunching his features as he holds back what he really wants to say. “Cologne? I’m not wearing any. You must be smelling my natural irresistible scent. Intoxicating, isn’t it?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna make it stink like you.”

“Hmm? Do you think she’s going to get this back and feel compelled to… ” The older man zips the hoodie and lifts the fabric to his face to take a deep inhale. “Smell!?”

When Jungkook groans at his laughter Seokjin quirks a brow at him. “You were sleeping with this over your face so I thought you might suffocate in such a delicate scent. Really my balancing aroma means I’m your savior. You should be bowing down to me.”

“Whatever. You gonna cook or what?” Jungkook asks, waving a dismissive arm as he crosses the room.

Seokjin recognizes the path his friend takes as the one leading to his bedroom. “What? Are you going back to bed? Don’t expect me to bring a plate to you in there.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighs as he passes the bathroom, hearing the water from the shower beating against the tile floor. He’s never had to pee so badly in his life. “I’m just going to awaken the princess.”

He pauses to press his ear against the door to his room. He can’t hear anything. With a careful, quiet turn of the knob, he cracks the door open just enough to listen for movement. It’s not until he’s sure of the sound of your soft snoring that he opens the door further to peek inside.

Your body is turned so you’re facing the empty side of the bed and at some point you’ve swung your leg over his comforter to trap it between your thighs. You almost look content with your nose buried in his pillow. It’s easy to forget that a scowl isn’t a permanent expression branded on your face when you look so peaceful and sweet.

The carpet muffles his footsteps as he crosses the room, sinking to his knees as he approaches the side of the bed. He places an elbow on the mattress and rests his chin in his palm as he reaches out to touch your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers, a soothing tone coating the word.

His fingers trace a gentle path up your arm but you don’t stir. Still knocked out? He knows he shouldn’t be surprised. You really did have a lot last night. He’s just glad you didn’t throw up, especially not on his favorite set of polyester sheets. They’re far too expensive to be covered in puke. If he had known you’d be sleeping here he would have changed the sheets like he normally does for company. He’s not exactly used to sharing his personal belongings. It’s much easier to keep everything separate. Compartmentalize. But here you are fucking all that up, like you do.

Before he can even register all of the reasons he should not have his hand in your hair, his fingers move of their own accord, gliding through it like they belong there.

“Mmm… That feels good,” you murmur, leaning into the touch.

Your eyes open, the thick fog of sleep slowly lifting with your eyelids. You’re not sure you’re seeing the person before you properly so you rub your eye with your knuckles and groan.

“Please tell me you’re not who I think you are.”

“Who do you think I am?” he whispers teasingly, failing to keep the laughter from his question.

“Jungkook,” you groan in warning, turning your face into the soft pillow to hide. “Go away.”

“Hmm,” he hums, carefully massaging his fingers along your scalp. “I thought you said it felt good.”

Blood rushes to your ears as you fight to not melt straight into the mattress. You definitely said that out loud. That was a thing you said to Jungkook. Out loud. Fuck. It does feel good, too good.

“Yeah, well…” Your strangled, frustrated sigh cloaks the delight in your tone as you force yourself to look back at his face. “That was before I knew it was you.”

His focused expression morphs into a cheesy smile. “Now that you know it’s me, it really goes from being good to being great, huh?”

You attempt to smack his hand from your hair but his fingers get caught in a massive tangle of knots. You immediately yelp a pathetic sound, sitting up and yanking your head back, which only ensnares him further.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!” he warns, volume of his tone rising as he climbs up on the bed to lessen the strain on your scalp. “I think my ring…!”

“Ah….! Ah!”

He can’t help the devilish smile that curls his lips at the sound. The labored breaths you offer so freely begin to lodge themselves into his brain for later recollection. For now he suppresses the laughter bubbling in his throat and places his other hand around your head.

“Hold still, princess,” he whispers.

He leans over you to get a better view of the strands trapped in the fine metalwork looped around his middle finger.

“Fucking hurry up,” you hiss, trying to ignore the heat building in your face.

He sighs a loud, frustrated sound at you. “Gimme a sec.”

It’s not like he’s taking his time. He’s not. So what if you’re laying in his bed? So what if you’re cute when you whimper? So what if the scent of your shampoo is making his stomach do somersaults? He pauses to quietly inhale, hoping it’s enough to satisfy the tingling desire in his chest.

You turn your head to the side and do your best to focus your eyes anywhere but the heavy creases lining his obliques. Luckily the ink on his skin steals the entirety of your attention. Your eyes follow a trail of grey brush strokes along his side that seem to grow purple in hue as they wrap around his shoulder and encircle an image you can’t quite make out from your current position. You turn your head, angling yourself slightly to attempt to see more. A sharp tug quickly pulls you back to reality.

“Ow! Jungkook! Fucking pull it out!” you bark, frustration seeping through your tone.

Every time you think you’ve successfully suppressed your feelings of infatuation, they resurface and leave you feeling like a moron. You know better yet you still fall victim to your mind’s own blind spot. Why does having crushes on people have to make you feel so oblivious?

“I’m trying!” His tone is defensive and pouty. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re yelling at me, you know.”

“Hey!” Seokjin’s call causes you both to jump. “What is it that I’m hearing right now?”

Jungkook laughs, “I’m being a gentleman and pulling it out.”

Seokjin snorts. “That was fast. The least you could do is close the door. Come out for breakfast when you’re done.”

“Seokjin…No! That’s not…!”

There’s a lump in your throat and you realize you can’t form words to continue the rest of your objection to his assumption. You pound a fist against the muscular chest hovering over you. Jungkook coughs as though the air has been knocked from his lungs, quickly following it with a laugh as he pulls his fingers from your hair. The ring remains caught within your locks.

“I want that back,” he says, climbing off the bed and focusing his attention on the dresser nearby.

He digs through until he pulls out a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. You’re working the ring from your hair, carefully pulling it free. A flannel shirt smacks your face and lands in your lap just as you sit up.

“I want that back too.”

“Why would I need your shirt?” you sneer, balling the flannel up and tossing it back at him. “Mine’s perfectly fine.”

He catches it in one hand and throws it back at you quicker than your brain can register the action. You fail to miss the way his eyes rake over your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He shrugs with an air of nonchalance. “Thought you might be cold.”

As he exits the room, he shuts the door. It’s after you hear the click of the mechanism that you see the bra you’ve obviously discarded at some point during the night splayed out on the floor just beyond the foot of the bed. You turn the ring around in your fingers a few times and drop your gaze to two very hard nipples threatening to cut holes in the fabric of your shirt. You drop your forehead into your lap and gather the fabric of the flannel around your face.

“Fucking hate you,” you whine into the flannel.

Moreover, you hate the way your heart beats faster every time he teases you. You hate the way you’ve started thinking about him again. You hate the attention and love it all in the same breath. You hate the way you’ve begun to crave it and you’re afraid he knows it. You sigh and rise, looking around for your phone. You vaguely remember kind of maybe possibly setting up a potential date with Jason. It’s better to focus on that than whatever nonsensical feelings are stirring on your Jungkook radar.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s not until you’re sitting at your desk three days later that you second guess your profile pictures on tinder being the most up-to-date. Do you still look the same as a year ago? Two years? You don’t even feel like the you that you were a month ago. How are you supposed to show your most genuine self when you’re so worried that someone is going to accuse you of being insincere about your appearance?

Pushing down your insecurities and trying to get your mind off of things, you sift through personal emails on your second monitor. Checking for bills due before heading into the lab is a good way to clear your mind of unnecessary noise. Focus on here. Focus on now. But even staring at the screen for the electric company’s login page can’t save you from wandering back down the road of worry.

Jason’s been nice. He was patient with your social anxiety when you said you didn’t want to meet right away without getting a sense for him first. After a few weeks, you forced yourself past the discomfort because you started to like who he presented himself as. But pictures and long texts at the end of a busy day can only tell you so much about him. It’s time. You’ve been hinting at it for a while and now it’s finally going to happen. Who knows? Maybe he’s just as scared as you are. He said he can relate to the anxiety so maybe you can bond over being awkward together. But what if he sees you and doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re nothing like what he thought?

You take a deep breath as the bill payment goes through and you close the tab, moving to the next cluster of emails to clear from your inbox. They’re mostly newsletters you don’t have the motivation to unsubscribe from and the daily recipe emails you swear you’re going to try out when you have more time to learn to properly cook a meal. It just seems like so much effort right now to your stressed out brain. You don’t even bother looking at any of them.

Delete.

Just as you’re about to close the tab, a new promotion notification pops up.

[IRON KINGDOM IS LOOKING FOR HEROES]

Despite every fiber of your being telling you not to, you open the email. You scan the corny greeting and find an offer for a free month of personal training for new clients who sign up for a membership. You’re relieved to see the email is signed by trainer Hwasa and accompanied by cute animated doodles of an arm flexing with 8-bit plus symbols, sparkles, and a big “LVL UP!” sticker.

Their marketing tactics sure seem geared towards gamers. No wonder Jungkook works there. It’s a bit cheesy, but you can’t help but find it endearing. Maybe a gym will give you the confidence you need to stop worrying about your appearance entirely. Fat chance. But it’s still a chance. You star the email and close the tab, heading back into the lab to work on today’s repairs.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Late night?”

You rub your eyes and yawn at the cafe table, thankful when Namjoon slides an iced-coffee towards you. You’re grateful you haven’t put on makeup today because it would have smeared all over your hands. When did 11am become too early for a Saturday?

“Thanks, Joonie.” You smack your lips before trying to hide your smile by sipping through the straw. “I stayed up playing games with Jason.”

“Oh?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Have you guys met in person yet?”

You shake your head. “Next week. We’re supposed to… go to an arcade bar. But we played some co-op games on Steam last night.”

Namjoon offers a blank stare. “I have no idea what that means.”

“We chatted over headsets and played some stuff together. It was fun.” You smile down at the cap on your drink as you take another sip.

“Did he sound like a nerd?” Jennie teases as she sits down beside you with her own cup of piping hot coffee.

“He had a deep voice actually. I was surprised,” you admit, an air of infatuation dressing your tone.

“Deep like Namjoon’s?” Jennie asks, elbowing you playfully. “Or Taehyung’s? What if it’s one of them and they’re just fucking with you? Totally cat-fishing.”

Namjoon squirms in his seat across from you, not wanting to admit his once moronic idea to give you some hope by making a fake profile to build you up and deleting the whole thing as soon as it was made. He laughs into his cup. “Like I could do that.”

You laugh and wave her off. “Namjoon’s is like rocky deep and Taehyung’s is like breathy deep. This is more like…”

“…Yes?” Jennie rolls her hand towards you repeatedly. “Words?”

“Rocky deep?” Namjoon frowns and pouts quietly. “What does that even mean?”

“It means it’s got grit, but it’s pleasant. You’re fine, Joon,” Jennie explains, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“…Buttery?”

“Oh.” Jennie quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as she sips her coffee. “Smooth and silky hmm?”

“Uh….” you purse your lips. “I mean… more like N…Nasal butter.”

Coffee spurts from your companions’ mouths and noses. They both quickly gather napkins to deal with the mess.

“Hot! Hot! Ow! Fuck. Wow. Never say that phrase again in your life, Y/N!” Jennie coughs. “Just say. Deep voiced nerd. That’s all you gotta say!”

Namjoon is cackling like a madman, despite the fact that he’s still wiping at his nose and mouth.

You purse your lips and shyly tap your fingers together. “I thought it was a good description.”

“Which is exactly the reason why I re-did your profile in the first place,” Jennie huffs, wiping down the table.

“Okay so….” Namjoon struggles to contain his laughter. “Are you excited to meet Jay-Jay in person now? Or should I call him Nay-Bae now?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Guys, look. I’m super fucking scared to meet this guy. What if he doesn’t like me?”

They both answer at the same time. “He’ll like you.”

“You guys are biased because you’re my friends. But like. You know not everyone is attracted to everyone else. Everyone likes something different. So like… what if he’s not attracted to me in person?”

“He’s seen pictures of you. He shouldn’t have swiped right if he didn’t find you hot,” Jennie says matter-of-factly. It almost makes you believe her.

“But those are mostly selfies. Good angles, y’know? The body shots are older, like a year or two?” you try to reason.

“Y/N. Your Zelda pic is from Halloween, which was months ago, not years. He’s going to like the way you look and if he doesn’t he’s a moron,” she fires back.

“I just… Don’t feel like the person shown in those pictures. I don’t want him to think I’m lying to him.”

Jennie bites her lip, knowing how insecure you are about your body image, how sensitive you are about it. Years of being bullied tend to have that effect on people.

“Honey, if he thinks you lied in your photos then he’s not the guy for you,” she says, hugging an arm around your shoulder.

Namjoon nods empathically. “Besides, he may not be right for you either. It’s a test to see if you’re compatible.” His eyes widen and he sits up straight. “Oh. Treat it like a test! You did well on exams, right? Well, this is just a kind of exam that you get to grade. Think of yourself like a… professor.” His face splits into a goofy dimpled grin.

Jennie smacks her hand to her forehead. “Namjoon…”

Just treat it like an exam in prerequisite courses. What did you do for those? Truth be told you soaked in lectures and relied on cramming for exams an hour before taking a test. The weird part is that you would walk in nervous, but you’d sit down and take a deep breath and you’d tell yourself something. What was it?

I know it or I don’t.

No amount of stressing ever changed that phrase. By the time you got the exam in front of you, you could admit if you were lacking in knowledge somewhere and that would be your own fault. The essays were easy enough to bullshit if you knew the general premise of the question. Either way you figured out what needed more studying and you fixed the problem for the next test. Convert that to dating?

Your brows are furrowed and you’re staring at the table with your lips slightly parted when you answer. “We like each other or we don’t. Either way it’s okay because I can always try again with someone new.”

Jennie raises her eyebrows, shocked at your response. “Yes.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon says, offering a soft smile.

From behind the counter a few feet away Yoongi glances up at the three of you, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hands are already working to pour a perfect heart shape into the milk of another customer’s latte, but his eyes remain fixed to your table. Namjoon’s wave pulls him back to reality and he focuses on the task at hand before milk can spill over the side of the cup. You turn in sync with Jennie, just in time to see Yoongi delicately setting out the cup on a plate and calling for its recipient. He offers a cocked smile and subtle nod in your direction before focusing on his next order.

“That boy is a workaholic,” you say, picking up your cup and tonguing the straw to your iced coffee before taking a sip.

“Workaholic? I guess you’d know all about that, huh?” Jennie teases, facing you again.

“I take breaks,” you say defensively. “I do.”

Namjoon takes a long slurp of his coffee and focuses on the bland painting nestled in the corner of the cafe.

“When’s the last time you took a lunch break, like, away from your job?” she prods.

“I… don’t have time for that… But I do pay my bills at work, which totally counts as a break.”

“Wild.”

Namjoon chuckles, covering his grin behind his hands. “Oh, that reminds me. Geeksquad, you cancel your free week before it charges you?”

You pout, working your straw in and out of the lid with restless fingers before rolling your eyes with a huff. You tap your phone to wake it up, knowing if you don’t do it now you’ll forget. “Thanks, mom.”

You’re greeted with the email you’ve been staring at all week, tormenting yourself over a response. “Hey, uh, so… remember how I was talking about being worried about the way I look?”

Namjoon sighs like he’s about to die on a battlefield over this. “Geeksquad. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny. You need to stop stressing over this.”

You blink a few times in surprise, feeling the heat rising in your face and hoping it’s an invisible involuntary response. “Oh. I, um…” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I wasn’t asking you to talk me up again.”

He clears his throat loudly, clearly embarrassed for overstepping. “Ah no, I wasn’t. I was just saying… in general. You know? You sell yourself short.” He’s quick to down the liquid in his cup and dart his eyes elsewhere. Is there a hole he can go crawl in?

“Now I’ve got enough from the both of you to trick my brain into producing dopamine for the day. Thank you.” You laugh. “But… I was just thinking… maybe a good way to boost my confidence on a larger scale would be to maybe join a gym?”

“What gym?” Jennie asks, raising her eyebrows with a knowing smile.

“Well…” you focus on canceling the trial at your fingertips while you talk. “Iron Kingdom is running a special where if you sign up for a membership you get a month of personal training for free. I was thinking of signing up with one of the coaches there… Not Jungkook,” you clarify.

She nods. “I mean they’re pretty popular and cheap. Exercise is a natural mood booster. Just know you’ll probably see him from time to time.”

“How often could I possibly see him if I’m going before work?”

“Bold of you to assume you’re gonna be getting up before you absolutely have to,” Namjoon jokes with a laugh. “I’ve seen you pre-coffee at six am on a weekday. I think you’d rather die than be up earlier than that.”

He’s not wrong. You click your tongue and give a slow half-nod, half-shake of your head. “I have an iron will, Joonie. I can condition myself.”

He scoffs. “Riiight.”

“Besides, I’ll be more accountable if both of you are going with me.” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Hey don’t drag me into this. I’m content waking up at six thirty every day. Don’t ask me for more. I could maybe do after work.”

Your sweet smile turns into a sour pout before turning to Jennie. “You said you’d sign up with me before we knew Jungkook worked there.”

“Workouts before I’m awake were not part of that discussion. I will gladly do weekends with you,” she agrees.

“What is this, split-custody?” you whine.

She sighs. “Fine, I will sign up for classes with you too… if you stick with it. We’ll get Namjoon to sign up for one too.”

“What?” Namjoon shakes his head. “Hold up. I never agreed—”

“We’ll make a thing of it. Get a meal after,” she says with an aggressive smile as she kicks his shin under the table. “My treat.”

I’m bribing you to do this for her, Namjoon. That’s what she’s really saying, but you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“We’ll let you pick what we can sign up for together,” you offer as your consoling statement.

He finishes his coffee with a heavy sigh. “Alright. Alright.”

He’ll have to ask Jungkook what the most low-effort class at his gym is and hopefully he won’t poke too much into the reasoning for his sudden interest. Knowing his friend, though… It’s a matter of time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Since Yoongi is thinking of applying for a bartending job at a new place that just opened up, Hoseok insisted on having the weekly Saturday night hangout there. Something you instantly like is that the space is divided into a louder dance scene and a muted lounge atmosphere separated by a wall of glass that mutes just enough sound to dull the loudest out basslines in the next room. The high energy of the club heavily contrasts the laid back scene in the lounge. Ups and downs. Seesaw is a fitting name.

You’re more of a lounge kind of girl, enjoying a noticeable lack of vibrations rattling your skull as you settle down with a new drink. Jennie and the others may favor the other side and you’ll no doubt be dragged back in, but a moment of respite is all you really need right now. You run your fingers through your hair as you tie it up, staring down at your phone. Jason sent you a selfie and he’s every bit as cute as the photos you keep going back to look at. Sweat lines your brow as you attempt to make yourself presentable enough for a photo of your own.

Taking a look around the room self-consciously, you lift the phone and don a plastic grin. You snap a pic that you spend ten seconds internally tearing apart before sending. You tip the glass towards you, the orange juice and tequila going down all too easy and leaving a tangy taste on your tongue. When you wait for the dots on the screen to stop moving, your stomach drops.

JASON: lmao looks like someone photobombed you. You look good though.

Good. You look good. Not cute. Not hot or sexy. Good. Why does that feel so mediocre? Maybe it’s because he’s never actually said “you’re beautiful” or anything to that effect. It’s not like you need to hear it all the time, but every once in a while would do wonders for your confidence.

You’re not even worried about the first part of the text until you scroll back up to scrutinize your features once again and see a familiar dark haired figure in the background with two middle fingers raised. You zoom in on the figure and grit your teeth when you realize he’s sticking his long tongue out with a knowing grin.

“Getting a better look?” Jungkook asks, chin digging into your shoulder as he leans over you and plants a hand on the table. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

“Jungkook,” you warn, fire flaring up in your gut. “Go back to the noisy side where you belong.”

“What, you think I don’t like it quiet sometimes too?” He almost sounds offended as he hops into the chair beside you. His tight-lipped smile and quirked brow fill you with feelings of mistrust. “Keeping quiet can be a challenge. And I always like a challenge.”

“Is that why you’re still bothering me?”

He takes the orange off the rim of your glass and pops it into his mouth with a shrug.

“Stop trying to ruin my chances with Jason and stop stealing my fruit.”

When he smiles at you the orange rind peeks out from the space between his lips and you sigh in frustration.

“I left your cherry.” He points to the fruit half buried in ice as he places the empty rind on the table.

He laughs when you crinkle your nose at the mess he’s made, wiping the table down with a napkin.

“Jason,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s been like a month hasn’t it? Has he even eaten you out?”

Your eyes widen and you flounder to formulate a response.”Ah–I–You–Uh–K-Kook!”

“I mean– taken you out?” he laughs hard at the way you trip over your words. “No, no, wait. The first one. I meant the first one.”

“Does this work for you?” you question after taking a long sip from your drink. “The dirty jokes. The crass humor. The douchebag behavior…”

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “I thought we had something special, Princess. You were in my bed and everything just last week.”

“Okay you’re–That’s–Totally out of context.” You take another sip, reaching the red syrup at the bottom before digging your finger past the ice to reach the fallen cherry. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

His smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Depends on the girl. You’d be surprised by how many say they don’t want an asshole and they roll their eyes at the jokes, the crass humor… Just like you do.” His voice gets low and breathy, shifting in his seat so his shoulder touches yours. “But that douchebag behavior, as you put it…”

Steady fingers reach for the nervous pair tapping the table beside your phone and you tense. His hand is warm and soft as it curls around your cold, clammy ones. Your breath hitches in your throat as you fix your eyes on his thumb kneading soft, comforting circles into the back of your hand. Your eyes rise slowly up to the owner, never moving past his jaw, too afraid to meet his eyes. Why couldn’t these stupid crush feelings just go away when you started talking to Jason?

“It’s a tactic. It’s a game to me. And it works…” he chuckles a subtle sound, watching the way your gaze lingers on his lips. “It’s flirting, Princess. Do you want me to stop?”

“I…” The truth is that you don’t know. Your body aches for him to continue but when it’s over and he’s done playing games with you, you’ll feel like a fool again. Is it really worth it?

Dark eyes bore into yours, a look of longing in them that almost makes you forget they’re attached to the face of a fuckboy. You blink slowly, caught in the trap of featherlight touches you know you could leave in an instant. So why don’t you? It feels so fucking good to be touched, to feel wanted, even for a moment. You find yourself leaning into it, leaning into him. Even as he feigns a shy smile and chuckles, you hate yourself so much for not breaking away from him. A strangled noise escapes you that sounds like a laugh that is alien to your own ears.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers, followed by a whimsical laugh.

Fuck. Why did he have to be the one to say it? Friends don’t count. Jennie and Namjoon don’t count. But Jungkook? He’s not exactly the same classification of friend as either of them. Are you even friends? Last week he made a point of calling you everyone else’s friend, but never called you his. Is it because he wants something more or because he sees you as something not worth calling more? Your lungs are burning. Are you holding your breath? It feels like you’re holding your breath. Your chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

You take a deep inhale and try to calm yourself enough to rip the band-aid off. Maybe he’ll get the hint. Maybe he’ll stop hurting you. You swallow, not knowing if you can play his game but knowing that you have to try.

“I’ll admit… When I met you I felt attracted to you.” In an attempt to seal the emotion from your voice, the tone sounds deeper, almost sultry.

He smiles like he knows he’s won you over and closes his eyes, leaning in further. He opens them promptly when you place your fingers to his lips and push him back.

“But then I met the real you. Pompous. Arrogant. Shallow. Narcissistic. You think you’re God’s gift to women, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You play with people just because you can, like a boy who never grew up. So, let me be clear. I know what I want and it’s not you. I will never want someone like you. Go back to the noisy side and you might find someone who does.”

He doesn’t make a sound as he pulls away, hands sliding off you entirely until they’re hanging over his own thighs. You can feel your lip quivering but if he sees it he doesn’t mention it as he leans back in his seat and pokes his tongue into his cheek. There’s too many emotions coursing through your own brain to properly read his expression. Any guess you might make would be tainted by your hopes and subsequent disappointment. It’s gone as soon as you blink.

“The noisy side is fun too. Thanks for the orange,” he says, flashing you a toothy grin that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle as he casually strolls away.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Twenty minutes have passed and the sting of your words remain. He tilts his head back and downs another shot, setting the empty glass down the bar counter before disappearing into the crowd. For twenty minutes he’s been telling himself he’s unbothered by your comments whilst thinking of nothing else.

I will never want someone like you.

Not the first time he’s heard that one, but it has been a while since he’s elicited such a negative response from someone. How could you say that with such malice? It’s not like you have any reason to sing his praises, but he wonders how low he’s become in your eyes.

You think you know me so well, he thinks as he tightens his jaw, trying to focus on any of the warm bodies darting in and out of his periphery.

The more he thinks about it, the more annoyance becomes a prominent figure in the forefront of his mind. He’s bothered by the fact that he’s bothered, but maybe that’s because he realizes now that you’re not hanging around Namjoon to try and get closer to any one of them with malicious intent. So what do you want? Do you really just want friends? It’s hard to believe his assumptions were the ones that were wrong, but it seems pretty clear now; you’re not using his friends at all. You just stumbled into this family like a graceless clutz with your jokes, your wit, your kindness, your… nerdiness.

It’s infuriating just how likeable you are. How was he supposed to know that you weren’t putting on a front? It’s hard to find genuine people in this fucked up world and he’s done his best to barricade himself within the ones he’s found. Skepticism has been his guardian; it’s protected his friends from those who would use them and it’s kept the rest of the world a safe distance away. But here you are again making him question himself. It’s annoying.

Navigating past writhing, sweaty bodies, Jungkook dons a scowl and looks around for his friends as he tries to push down his feelings of irritation. He’s hoping to find Namjoon on the outskirts of the dancefloor when he spots Seokjin and Taehyung laughing across the way. He feels his body relax a little and he breathes a sigh of relief, knowing a distraction for his mind is imminent. Just as he’s about to be free of the crowd, there’s a body colliding with his. Lean, tattooed fingers reach out to steady the girl around the waist. She’s already apologizing for her partner’s lack of skill as she turns around.

Agitation dissipates in an instant as he comes face to face with your now wide-eyed friend, Jennie. Maybe she’s exactly what he needs right now.

“You don’t have to throw yourself at me like this you know.” He grins, already moving his hips to the music. “Wanna dance?”

She closes her eyes for just a second, letting her hips sway beneath his palms to the beat. It’s then she catches herself and slaps his hands from her hips. “I’m already dancing with someone else, thanks.”

Jungkook’s expression sours as she turns away from him to look for her dance partner, grumbling how Jungkook scared him off. Am I just completely off my game tonight? What is wrong with me?

He sighs and makes his way towards his friends, hoping sharing some drinks with them will lead to a lift in his mood. He spares a glance up to the glass separating the lounge from the club. You’re fixated on your phone, leg bouncing anxiously back and forth and he finds himself wondering what could possibly be so enthralling, so nerve-wracking that you’ve already downed most of your next drink. He rolls his eyes. You’ve consumed enough of his thoughts for the evening. Whatever the cause, he can’t be the solution. You’ve made that much clear.

Jungkook drapes his arms around both of his friends, interrupting whatever conversation they’re in the middle of. “I’m bored!”

Seokjin blinks rapidly in disbelief. “What’s this? You’re alive?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, reaching his palm down to tweak Seokjin’s nipple through his shirt, causing him to shriek and shy away from him.

“What? You disappeared so suddenly I assumed you must have been lured to your death by a pretty face!” he argues, rubbing his palm over the tender spot on his chest and maintaining a fair distance from his friend.

Jungkook scoffs, poking a finger in his ear and blocking out his elder’s words before turning to Taehyung. “Tae, you up for a game? First to five?”

Taehyung sucks his teeth and gives the room a once over. “Dances? Kisses?”

“Numbers.” Jungkook declares. “She has to text you first and you have to show proof.”

He raises his eyebrows and laughs. Deciding he could use the confidence boost, he nods. “Yeah, I think I could do that.” He turns his gaze on Seokjin. “You in?”

Seokjin’s sour expression morphs into a wicked grin. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Should I see if anyone else is game?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and laughs. “You think you can keep up, old man?”

Seokjin moves in to pinch Jungkook’s arm and quickly backs away before he can retaliate. “I’ll show you how a real man woos a woman.”

“Let’s get a round first,” Taehyung suggests, already making his way to the bar.

Jungkook takes out his phone with a grin, sending a group text announcing the start of tonight’s shenanigans. He makes sure to include you.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Namjoon thrusts the water towards you. “Drink.”

You know you should. That last Tequila Sunrise went down way too easy and you’re starting to sweat just sitting here. You attempt to shimmy your hoodie off while maintaining a death grip on your phone. It doesn’t go well.

“Joonie,” you pout.

He pries your phone from your sweaty hands, allowing you to free yourself from your sweaty confines.

“You get this back when you drink some of that,” he argues, pointing to the glass of water. He grabs a french fry off the plate he ordered for you both to share. “Eat some of these, too.”

He talks while sucking in air between his teeth, as if to cool the hot potato scalding his mouth. “Hot! sssch-Hot!” He promptly spits half of the fry back into his hand. “Uhhh, maybe wait a sec though.”

“What? Is it like, hot?” you ask in the most valley girl voice you can muster. You offer him a napkin with a giggle. “You’re a mess, Professor Kim.”

He sheepishly takes it from you, disposing of his half-chewed food before grumbling, “Geeksquad, I swear—”

You simply take a fry from the plate and nibble at it with a smug grin, quickly moving onto the water he provided you. The pair of you sit together in silence for a minute, carefully picking at the plate of fries. Once you’ve sucked down more than half the glass of water you reach your hand out in a grabbing motion.

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” he says, handing over your phone

“But I like him,” you counter, mouth full and licking the salt from your fingers.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I wanna know why this guy keeps putting off meeting up.”

“Maybe he’s nervous, too.” You shrug, scrolling through your missed messages.

It’s a painfully short catch-up session and your heart sinks at the realization that he’s not doing anything to keep the conversation alive. You place the half-eaten fry currently in your hand back on the plate, appetite completely dissolved along with your hopes.

“I want another drink,” you mumble, staring down at the screen.

“What did he say?” Namjoon asks, scooting his seat closer to yours so he can read the conversation and you let him.

“Nothing… Nothing and that’s the problem,” you admit, feeling a sting at your eyes.

Nononono not my makeup. You dab at the inside corners of your eyes and swipe your fingertips along the edge to clear the tears before they fall.

“How am I supposed to go on a date with him if he won’t talk to me? I feel like I always have to initiate and keep it going and compliment him. It’s exhausting. Does he even like me? Why did he swipe on me?”

“I think he likes you… But it does seem like you’re carrying the conversation,” he admits, scrolling through the messages. “He might be more introverted than you… Or he’s keeping his options open.”

There. He said it so you don’t have to. You’re not sure if you hate him or love him for it. You lean back against your seat and look forlornly at the plate of fries. Most people your age don’t have reservations about seeing more than one person at a time, so why is it so hard for you to do? Jason is your only prospect and it’s exhausting even trying to manage that much. You can’t imagine having several other conversations happening simultaneously.

“So what do I do?”

“Put Jason on the backburner.” He presses the power button on your phone, the screen going black before he taps on your glass. “You finish your water, eat some more fries, and come dance with me.”

“I dance like a fool,” you remind him. “You really wanna be embarrassed?”

“We’ll both dance like fools then,” he says while filling his mouth with fries. “Come on. Don’t just watch me eat.”

You oblige him with a grin, matching the amount he’s stuffed his face with and laughing at each other’s puffed cheeks. Both of your phones buzz against the tabletop in unison and you exchange a curious look before checking your messages.

JUNGKOOK: numbers game JUNKGOOK: first to collect five wins JUNGKOOK: person has to text you as proof

You cringe and fire back a text to let everyone know you were included on a group text you definitely wish you weren’t.

YOU: ew JUNGKOOK: oh sorry princess must have included you by accident 🥴🥴🥴 JIN: You can play if you want! I can be your wingman. Together we will take down the maknae JUNGKOOK: lol JUNGKOOK: i guess you can practice flirting 😏 TAEHYUNG: Buying a round first JIMIN: 😱Coming!!\ HOBI: 😈 JUNGKOOK: Joon Yoongi in or out

You quirk an eyebrow at Namjoon. “Do this often?”

He shifts uncomfortably, visibly wilting under your gaze. “I mean, sometimes it’s fun to get drunk and flirt.” He grabs his beer and polishes off the last of it while texting back a response. “Judging me, Geeksquad?”

BUZZ. BUZZ.

NAMJOON: Gimme a minute.

You roll your eyes and grin. “No more than you judge me.”

“So a lot then. Got it.” He laughs.

You hum in contemplation as your fingers tap against the screen.

YOU: im in if you buy me a shot

The texts come through all at once, filling you with regret.

HOBI: COME GET IT JIMIN: Okay!! 🥰 TAEHYUNG: Coming up YOU: I was talking to the party leader YOU: please don’t buy me multiple shots JUNGKOOK: wooooooooow okaaaay JIMIN: Don’t worry I will drink what you can’t 😂

Namjoon is already laughing. “You did that to yourself.”

“I just want to beat him at his own game,” you grumble. “I think I’m just addicted to wiping that stupid smug ass grin off his face.”

“You know what I think?” He points a fry at you accusingly, waving it in your face before it breaks half, the errant piece falling into your lap. “I think you guys should date. You would make a cute couple.”

Your nose crinkles in response and you glare at him.

“Kidding, kidding….” He laughs when you lightly smack his arm. “At least you guys are talking again.”

You grimace, remembering your earlier conversation with Jungkook. The more you think about it, the more a sense of dread grows deep within your chest. You feel terrible about the things you said. You meant them at the time but now you just feel guilty because replaying them in your head sounds cruel. It’s not that you don’t want to fix things— you do.

Last week showed you he’s capable of some semblance of kindness. You thought maybe you could press the reset button on your whole friendship if he ever nutted up and apologized, but he’s only dug himself into a deeper hole since then. Every time you think you’re about to move past it, he does something that causes that anger to flare within you.

You sigh. “He gets under my skin, Joon. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mean to someone before. Ever. I wanna knock his teeth out of his skull.”

He chuckles. “I know… And I know it’s hard to believe but he’s a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

“Must be buried deep down,” you snort, finishing off your water, “if ‘sorry’ is too hard of a word for him to say.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows and nods. “That’s fair. I’m not going to make excuses for him or tell you to forgive him. He can be an ass. He has been an ass to you. All I’m gonna say is that we all have flaws. We all have defence mechanisms that seem logical to our own brains based on our experiences… our feelings… our trauma. We all got issues. Say what you want, but you’re not exactly an open book, Geeksquad.”

When you look like you’re about to object to that statement, he cuts you off. “Just listen.” He lines up the salt and pepper shakers on either side of the vertical menu standing in the middle of the table. “You got two closed off people like this. They complement each other pretty well but there’s this wall between them, right?”

“Tch. Namjoon…” you scoff. It takes everything you have to hold back the smile curling the corners of your mouth. “Are you calling me… salty?”

He rolls his eyes and cringes with a grumble. “Like talking to Jin sometimes, I swear… Look. There’s a door on the side right over here. And here.” He points to both sides of the menu with a fork and a spoon. “But they’re both too busy yelling over this wall, mishearing every other word. They’re forming assumptions about the other without ever having a conversation like civilized people face to face. But if either one walked a little bit, they might see something more than they previously imagined.”

“Hmm,” is all you manage to answer, biting your tongue to prevent you from speaking any further on the subject. “I finished my water, mom. Are you done playing with the table’s accoutrements?”

He snorts, dropping the utensils. After stuffing one last fry in his mouth he wipes his hands on his jeans. “Alright you know what I gave you my hot take. Do what you want.”

“What I want is to show this guy how it’s done,” you huff.

“How? We’ve all seen you dirty talk your cup like you’ve never seen porn in your life,” he jokes.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t have to win. I just have to beat Jungkook. That is my only goal. Besides, I can be charming in my own way Joonie,” you argue, grabbing a handful of french fries. “I have… finesse.”

In fate’s comical stroke of irony you fumble some of the fries on the way to your mouth, like one does when inebriated. You shamelessly fish one from your cleavage, moving your breasts around and inspecting the space between to ensure nothing is trapped in your bra. You look back up at him with a sheepish grin and pop the fry into your mouth.

He drops his forehead into his hands. “Yeah, sure. Finesse.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Something you’ve learned about yourself in the last forty minutes is that you are terrible at this. It sounded like a great idea to enter this competition but you should have known better. You don’t even talk to people you like. Why did you volunteer to talk to absolute strangers? Anxiety swells inside your belly like a balloon, mixing with the alcohol you’ve continued to consume within this time and creating a sloshy mess that makes you contemplate your existence.

For the first ten minutes you struggled with the internal conflict that is approaching a human being. What if they are absolutely out of your league and smite you on the spot with rejection? Mortification seems a fate worse than death far too often. You wish the ground would do you a solid and dissolve into liquid. Then you could just dive in and majestically doggie-paddle away from your problems.

Once you gathered enough courage to engage someone in conversation you were so nervous that you lost your balance, accidentally knocked his drink from his hand, and he promptly excused himself. You haven’t seen him since. The next one didn’t go much better. Stammering and stuttering over your words is about the least sexy thing you could do while trying to be smooth. You excused yourself from that one.

The last one you came down with a case of the hiccups mid-introduction, appearing far more inebriated than you are– at least more than you think you are. That guy raised his eyebrows at you and laughed. He fucking laughed in your face. What little confidence you had at the start of this event has quickly shattered into a thousand shards of self-loathing, each one picking a different part of your body to critique and pin to your brain like a bulletin board of shame.

You lean your elbows on the bar and spread your fingers out against your forehead, looking down at your cup. You wish Jennie was here to get the numbers for you. She would excel at what seems a hopeless task for you. A check-in text revealed she is safe and still having fun with some guy who is apparently “awesome.”

You haven’t seen her all night and you don’t feel like interrupting whatever fun she’s having with Mr. Awesome just to settle your petty squabble with Jungkook. At some point you have to take care of your problems on your own. Maybe you just need to face the fact that he’s going to completely destroy you in this pointless competition.

Have some humility, you tell yourself. It’s okay to suck at things.

It seems far from okay, even though you know it absolutely does not matter. The tears are already building behind your eyes and you’re not quite sure why, but it probably has something to do with the bubble of anxiety slowly creeping up your throat. You swallow, feeling it form a knot and clog the passage at the acknowledgement of its existence.

The guilt over your conversation with Jungkook remains a steady source of the anxiety that gnaws at the corners of your mind, telling you that you should apologize for your harsh words. He hasn’t said anything about it or given any indication that he’s bothered. After all, it was the truth wasn’t it? But the words sit in your mind, heavy in their cruelty. Have you become the person who says hurtful things in the face of adversity, who lets their emotions twist them into someone they never wanted to become? All of the embarrassment and rejection are extra layers that inflate the bubble in your throat.

You push the remainder of your drink away from you as you stand, looking around with a tearful pout. There’s enough light to scan the vicinity for the faces of your friends but you come up empty. It dawns on you for the first time how badly you have to pee so you make your way to the bathroom, relieved that there doesn’t seem to be a line of women holding the door open for one another.

As soon as you’ve passed the threshold of the heavy door the tears freely stream down your face. Your vision blurs with the rising heat in your cheeks. There are a group of women huddled around the sinks and mirrors and they all look up to watch you stumble towards one of the stalls with your hands out for balance. You can’t see their faces through your tears but you know they turn their attention towards you, voices falling into a hushed whisper.

Some of their outfits cast an ill-defined shimmer in the light of the restroom and your gut sinks, knowing they’re probably dressed in beautiful clothes you could never have the confidence to wear yourself. You quickly cast your gaze to the shiny tiles at your feet, the silver glitter embedded in the swirled white marble giving you something to focus on as you pray they’ll be gone by the time you come out.

When you emerge from the stall you stand at the sink, vigorously washing your hands and wiping your eyes with your wet knuckles before bringing your face down low enough to splash and clean.

“Hey…” A soft voice makes you look up from the sink, water dripping from your hair, down your forehead and into your red, puffy eyes. “Are you okay?”

You sniffle and blink a few times as one of them hands you a couple paper towels. Embarrassed, you wipe your face and slowly let yourself focus on the group. There are four of them and, as you suspected, they are all fucking gorgeous. Two of them have long black hair that dances over the skin of their shoulders with each swaying movement. One is wearing a blinding red-sequined dress and reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel. The other dons a flowing white dress that exposes her shoulders, the modest look complemented with knee high boots that could captivate anyone’s attention.

The third girl has her brown hair tied up in a tight ponytail away from her face, playful bangs just barely hiding her eyebrows. She looks so sophisticated in her simplistic black wrap dress. You wish you could look as half as beautiful as she does. The one closest to you has long blonde hair styled in waves that frames her face perfectly. Her makeup is absolutely flawless. She must have just touched it up. Looking at the white crop top and matching white jeans, you’re astonished to find she hasn’t spilled or wiped anything off on herself.

Are they as drunk as you are? You surmise they might be as you look from their outfits to their expressions. The way they frown and attempt to comfort you with misty, compassionate eyes has fresh tears spilling down the contours of your face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you choke out, wiping at your cheeks.

“That’s okay!” the one in red says, stumbling towards the blonde as she attempts to remove the shoe strapped to her foot. The other two catch her before she smacks against her backside. She wears a sheepish grin and takes off the other shoe through hissed teeth. “Ah! Better! Nobody knows anything for sure, if you think about it!”

She waves her strappy heels in her hands as if that proves some deep wisdom she’s trying to demonstrate.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asks, ignoring her friend as she cocks her head to the side.

“I tried to get back at him. He made me think he was one way and then he wasn’t. He’s a jerk!” You hiccup, as though these women already know your history with the person consuming your thoughts. “I want to get over it but he never even— he didn’t even— not once— he-he didn’t say sorry.”

The four girls huddle against each other, nodding as they listen to your rambling as though it’s a sermon worth extracting a lesson from.

“So then tonight I blew up and I was like, hey you’re a dick and I liked you but that’s over because who could love you? And I was like, oh no I was too mean! And I was about to apologize. But then-but then he wanted to play a game with his friends and he sent it to me too. Collecting numbers. And I was like, no! You know what? I’m gonna play and beat you because fuck you, Jungkook. And now I feel so… stupid be-because… I can’t do it! And he knew it. He’s right.”

You start to sob and the girls begin to make a fuss, all talking over each other to try and quell your tears.

“No no no! Honey, you can do it!”

“What is it?”

“Don’t cry!”

“Fuck Jungkook!”

“Look. There’s no man on this earth ruining your makeup over,” the blonde says, grabbing another paper towel and running it under the water.

“Unless it’s a really good blowjob.” The woman in red grins from ear-to-ear, unashamed of her boldness.

“Oh my god, Joy.”

“Sounds like some fuckboy shit.” The woman in the black dress crosses her arms, tapping her fingers on her elbow as she stands up straight. “Okay, how do we beat him?”

Brow furrowed, you look at her as though she’s grown another head. “I can’t. I tried to get numbers and I just made a fool of myself.” You hiccup. “I swear I’m not even that drunk. I’m just horrible at talking to people and I get so nervous that I–” Your lip quivers and you grimace, knowing your face is scrunched up into ugly-cry mode. “I freeze. And that’s probably why… why…”

“Hey, no more of that, babe,” the blond says, dabbing at your smudged eyeshadow and seeing if she can salvage any of the liner you had been wearing. “We’re gonna get you back out there and help you win. You gotta be your most fabulous self when you get to throw it in his face.”

“Getting numbers…” The woman with the heels in her hands leans on the others. “Any ideas?”

“What if we just give you ours?” The woman in the white dress smiles at you and comfort floods your senses. “Is he really gonna check to see if we’re men? Does that even matter?”

You struggle to blink and look at them all through the blonde’s constant dabbing above and around your eyes. “I need to have five numbers text me first. That’s all they said when they were going over the rules.”

You give the one in black your number first and she smiles. “I’m gonna text someone to help if they end up calling any one of us. My brother is here with his friends. He’s a shit, but he’ll help me out if I ask with minimal questions. Oh, I’m Seulgi by the way. You can put me down as any name you like.”

You feel your phone buzz twice. Great. Think of fake guy names. I can’t even think of a story how I might have charmed these ‘guys.’

As if reading your mind, she continues on, “Or you can just use the names of his friends. This is Joy, Irene, and Chungha.”

The two of them wave at you and the blonde smiles. “He sounds like he’s the worst. He’s gonna be so pissed you got numbers faster than him. It’ll be great.”

The contact Seulgi pulls up next makes you stare at the label as the Chungha wipes lines down your nose and chin. It reads: [DAMN BROTHER].

“Th-Thank you…” You sigh in disbelief. “You guys are the nicest people I know. I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t.” Chungha laughs. “I just fixed your makeup. How much time do you have? We wanna make this believable.”

You fish the mobile device out of your back pocket and scan through your group chat. “Looks like most of them are still at two or less.”

“Still got a shot then,” Seulgi comments with a grin. She’s clearly the most sober in the group. “We’ll space it out every ten to fifteen minutes or so. Seem reasonable?”

How do you thank these strangers? You are truly at a loss for words. A small nod and a wide grin is all you can manage.

“Do you wanna dance to kill some time?” Joy asks with a giggle.

“You should sit down and drink some water,” Irene chides. “Or someone will step on your toes.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

After drinking water and conversing with your newfound friends for some amount of time, you’ve almost forgotten about the game. Seulgi’s brother and his friends have joined your booth and you have to admit that although strangely cozy it’s socially draining. It’s not until Chungha nudges you to check your phone that you find more than a few of your competitors have reached their fourth achievement. You quickly text that you have the number you need and that you can keep going if they really want you to. The responses start pouring in, a mixture of confused and surprised. In Jungkook’s case, he calls bullshit and asks everyone to meet back up where they started: the bar.

Although you rise from the booth on steadier legs and hold a clearer mind, suddenly you’re feeling nervous. Your new friends assure you that no matter what they have your back. They all toss their cellphones on the table in a circle.

Chungha starts writing down names on napkins and matching them up with the devices. “If any of them ring we will make sure someone answers.”

After exchanging hugs with all of the girls, you make your slow descent down the stairs. Namjoon and Seokjin are already waiting for you at the bar.

“Oh! Y/N, my friend! You had me fooled!” Seokjin slaps his hand around your back, squeezing you towards the broad expanse of his chest. You take a few seconds to yourself, trying to remember how to breathe.

“How the hell…?” Namjoon asks the open-ended question with a big smile and you respond with a goofy one of your own.

“Uh-ehhehehh. Well…” You scratch your cheek and sheepishly present your phone. “I was told my failure to communicate effectively was charming in its own way.”

Namjoon quirks a brow at you and snorts. “Eloquent. Been drinking water, huh?” He drapes your hoodie around your shoulder. “Here. You forgot this earlier.”

You’re about to thank him when the rest of the group huddles in around you.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask, avoiding the glare Jungkook is throwing your way.

Hoseok is scrolling through his phone. “Hmm… Oh, he texted me. He’s…” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Busy.”

You raise a brow at the tone of his statement but don’t get a chance to ask what he means because Jungkook is already tapping your shoulder.

“I want to see your numbers,” he whines. “I don’t believe this.”

You’re annoyed but it’s not like you can fault the skepticism in his tone. While you didn’t burst into panic mode tonight, you’re pretty sure it’s because you were too drunk to spiral into a pit of despair over your embarrassment. Maybe you can find comfort in that while Jungkook scrutinizes your messages.

You can see his jaw tighten and shift from side to side. As his tongue pokes harder into his cheek with each new message he opens, you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. He forces a smile as Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok all crowd around him to peer down at the screen. He looks up and blinks hard. It’s hard to miss the fluttering of his lashes when he blatantly rolls his eyes.

You tilt your head to one side and smile at him sweetly. “Yes, Jungkook?”

“Looks like you won.” His tone lacks malice but even with his face partially obscured by the long hair falling across his face you can tell he’s annoyed. He sighs and raises his eyebrows, using his pinky to swipe the hair from his face. “You know, actually now that I think about it, I feel like it’s kind of unfair.”

“Here we go,” Jimin mutters, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a sore loser,” he leans in to whisper. “He does this every time someone else wins.”

“I’m just saying I feel like it might be an easier game for girls,” Jungkook says defensively.

“What? Are you kidding me?” You nearly lunge for him in your fury. “Why is it easier? Because guys prey on girls all the time? Especially the ones who are drunk and vulnerable?”

Jungkook looks taken aback that you would jump to such an assumption. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t know how many times I messed up. It was really hard for me,” you snap, poking a finger against his chest. “I bet you didn’t have someone laugh in your face, did you?”

Nonononono don’t you fucking cry, you tell yourself, trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s brow furrows, passing you a look that you swear is almost sympathetic. “No. I didn’t.”

You don’t need his pity. Tearing your gaze away from him, you look over your other companions. They wear uncomfortable grimaces and concerned frowns. The air between your group is heavy, charged with a palpable tension. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling embarrassed by your admission of one of tonight’s failed attempts.

A laugh escapes with your held breath and you shake your head. “It’s fine. Don’t look so sad for me. It went well after. It takes more than that to make me cry, you know.”

Oh no. They know. They know I lied about everything. I have to say something. I have to come clean. I’m guilty.

The cheerful pep in your tone seems to break the tension because Seokjin claps his hand around Jungkook’s shoulder and smiles. “That’s our girl!”

Maybe you’re better at lying than you give yourself credit for.

“She won fair and square. So I think she gets the prize.” Taehyung displays both sets of teeth with his charming, boxy smile.

You cock your head to one side. “Prize?”

“Winner gets dinner!” Hoseok sings as he takes your hands in his and wiggles them back and forth.

“Your choice, bought by the one who started the competition,” Namjoon chimes in.

“Why wasn’t this said at the start? I feel like I didn’t know all the rules. Maybe I don’t want that. I don’t have to eat with you right?” you ask, frowning at Jungkook.

Even when you win, you lose. You take your phone back and shove it into your back pocket.

Jungkook breaks into a cheesy grin that causes creases to form on either side of his nose. “If you want to. I know it’s tempting.”

“I make him get me something really, really good when I win,” Taehyung says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “And then I eat it in front of him.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But then I get a burger of my own, so does it matter?”

“Wait, what would have happened if Jungkook won?” you ask, wondering if you should have just stayed on your path of failure.

“Then the person in last place buys the winner food,” Namjoon responds simply, leaning across the bar to order another drink.

Oh. That’s worse.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You won your first game!” Jimin throws his arms around you and presses you tightly against his chest.

“Blipp! Achievement unlocked!” Taehyung laughs from behind him.

Jimin leans against your ear and whispers, “Oh, you smell good.”

It sends a shiver vibrating down your spine that he no doubt feels. When he pulls back to look at you, an innocent smile plays at his lips. Your mouth hangs agape as you stand there blinking stupidly at him, trying to decide if you want to look at his soft lips or enticing eyes. Who does he think he is, smiling like he hasn’t caused a short circuit in your brain? It’s like he gets off on it.

“Let’s dance to celebrate,” Hoseok suggests, rolling his hips dangerously close to you.

It’s then you remember there are more people in the immediate vicinity besides Jimin and yourself. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you purse your lips and compose yourself as one by one the group starts to split in two directions. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin make their way towards the crowd of dancers. Jungkook stands there looking at you as Seokjin and Namjoon turn their attention to the bartender.

“I think I’m gonna hang here instead,” you call, eyes falling back to the muscular figure before you.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he reluctantly shuffles towards you. You think he might be sulking until the soft tips of his fingers brush across your shoulder. “You did good. Congrats.”

He mumbles something else but you’re sure you didn’t hear him correctly. There’s no way he apologized, even in passing.

You look at Jungkook’s back as he walks away, trying your best to divert your traitorous eyes from wandering down towards his ass. You sigh and rub at your temple with your fingers. It felt okay. Why didn’t it feel great? As you turn your attention towards the bar your eyes pause on a familiar face staring back at you. Long blond hair frames her amused features as she leans back in her seat, sipping on a cosmo.

“Boys are dumb.” Chungha laughs, placing her drink back on the bar just as the bartender places a glass of water next to it. She drops her lime wedge into the water and offers it to you. “Wanna drink, babe?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You’re glad you made the switch to water hours ago. Seesaw is only a few blocks from your apartment so you might actually be able to save money and walk home tonight. Chungha has been talking your ear off about her stressful job but it’s not like you mind letting her dominate the conversation. It’s kind of nice to listen, especially when your energy is dipping. You smile at the bartender when he takes both your empty glasses away and a flash catches your eye from across the bar. There’s a girl posing for selfies with someone.

She must not have liked the first photo because her hand goes up and there’s another flash that distracts you from the way Chungha excuses herself and promises to come right back. You rest your chin on your palm and watch another pair of hands wrap around her waist. They slowly travel across her hips and as they travel lower you can see the tattooed expanse of his meaty biceps. She starts giggling and reaching back to pull her companion forward and your stomach sinks like someone’s tossed a heavy boulder in it. Jungkook’s long hair brushes against her cheek as he nuzzles into her neck.

Your jaw tightens as you watch, eyes refusing to leave the sight of him kissing up her neck. She turns towards him and pulls him to her lips as his hand flies up to cradle her jaw. Why does the sight make you feel so sick? Why can’t you look away? Maybe he can feel you staring or maybe it’s just coincidence, but fate is cruel. His eyelids flutter open and meet yours across the bar even as his companion is shoving her tongue into his mouth. Your mouth goes dry and the stone in your stomach breaks into a thousand shards that poke holes into your chest. Pins and needles threaten to pop your lungs like balloons as anxiety inflates your chest.

His brows are furrowed, concentrated as he keeps his gaze on you and continues kissing her. Those eyes staring back at you are dark and hungry, something you’re not quite used to seeing even through his fuckboy antics. They’re taunting, goading you to say something, to do something. You can’t help but think for a moment that maybe he’s looking at you because he wants it to be you. He wants you to see what you’re missing. It’s like he’s pleading for you to take her place.

Or maybe your delusional brain is creating a fantasy based on lack of romantic interaction.

Chungha scrapes her chair across the floor, causing you to jump and force your eyes away, but she’s smart. She follows where your eyes had been, watching Jungkook switch to pretending to be invested in his partner and occasionally darting his eyes back to you.

“Hey, isn’t that… Douche guy over there?”

“What? Is it? Psshft.” Your attempts at nonchalance are pathetic and you both know it, but you still continue on anyway. “Wow he’s just… making out. Over there. At the bar. Huh. Wow. That’s a lot of… tongue. Don’t you think he should like… move it back somewhere private?”

“He keeps looking at you.” She scoffs. “You know what? I think he’s trying to make you jealous.”

“What? Why? He doesn’t even like me,” you try to reason, not wanting to let hope bubble in your belly.

“Well, you told him off earlier, right? He definitely seems like the kind of guy that wants what he can’t have as soon as he hears he can’t have it. It’s a game to him.” She laughs as she watches you watch him. “It’s working isn’t it?”

“I wish I knew how to beat him at this game,” you say, catching his eyes and noting the satisfied smirk on his lips as he brings them back to his girl.

“I have an idea.” Chungha wears an impish smile as she cradles your jaw with delicate fingers, bringing your gaze back to her. “But only if you’re okay with it. ”

Your heart skips a beat as she carefully watches your expression. You nod, blinking a few times in surprise. “Y-Yes.”

“Is he looking?” she asks, brushing her fingers through your hair.

You’re so focused on her flawless makeup application and how good it feels to have someone’s fingers roaming through your hair that you almost forget to look. “Mmm-uhhh…… Yeah. Yeah, yup. He is.”

She laughs, sliding her hand over the back of your neck and closing the distance between you. Her lips are soft and instinctually you close your eyes, losing yourself in the kiss for a moment. It’s been a long time and it feels just as good to kiss someone as you remember. Your eyes snap open and you look across the bar to find Jungkook’s jaw completely slack. His eyes are wide with the image of the pair of you burned into the backs of his retinas. His arms have fallen limp against his companion and she takes the time to drunkenly nip at his lip and do all the work herself.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity to taunt him back, you deepen the kiss and grab the sides of her head, sliding your fingers through her silky blond locks. You ensure your tongues visibly slide against one another for the show you now know he’s watching. When you pull back you gently suck her bottom lip through your teeth, hoping Jungkook feels the exact same way you felt watching him.

“Did we get him?” she asks with a shy smile and embarrassed giggle.

You savor the look of blatant amazement on Jungkook’s face. You completely forget how embarrassed you would normally be in such a circumstance and you laugh. “Oh yeah. We got him good. Wow, thank you so much. The look on his face is priceless.”

“What the fuck.”

The familiar breathless whisper has you looking past Chungha at Namjoon. He’s holding a handful of nachos loaded with toppings at the halfway point between the plate and his mouth, which is hanging agape. All of the toppings on his chip fall to the bar with a splat.

Seokjin pokes his head from around Namjoon’s hulking form. “Wow, I love this bar. Let’s come back often.”

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