#how would YOU feel if people started waving a chicken in your face and told you to apologise

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 6]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

"Where's (y/n)? Did she have dinner?" San asked first.

"Oh, she's just taking a breather. Hwa hyung already kept a portion of food for her." Wooyoung waving him off, taking another bite of his own food.

"Is she okay?" Mingi asked.

"Yeah, don't worry about her." Jongho replied. Well, if your friends were saying not to worry, who was Yunho to worry? Why was he even worrying? It's the guilt he felt from his comment before dinner service. You just started working together and he didn't want to cause any bad blood on Day 1.

"Hey." You entered the kitchen, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans. Yunho's head perked up at your voice. Your nose and cheeks were slightly red.

"Yah, did you not wear a jacket out?" Seonghwa frowned, leaving his food and coming over to you.

"I'm fine, Hwa." You leaned away from him before he could touch your face.

"You're going to get sick. Come, have your dinner before we start prep." Seonghwa led you over to where the group was. You opened your mouth to say something but Seonghwa shot you a look.

"Thanks for the food." You mumbled and took a bite, although everyone could sense your reluctancy.

"So, how was the dinner service?" You asked.

"It was good. The customers love the food, the feedback was all good." Hongjoong smiled, giving all of you a thumbs up. Wooyoung and Jongho hi fived.

"They liked the roast chicken, infusing western and Korean flavours. The cioppino was liked as well, reminded them of a non-spicy haemul jjigae." Yeosang added. Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, patting your back as you smiled at each other.

"And a lot of people ordered one dessert each, they like the Western and Korean option." San grinned.

"Finally, Mr Owner, any words of wisdom?" Mingi grinned, drawing all attention on the taller male who had been silent so far.

"Uh... Well, I guess thank you to everyone here. I would say the first day of this place was a huge success, more than I'd ever imagine." He smiled nervously.

"The people like the food, they like the options of Korean flavours and Western flavours, even in combination. Even for the desserts. I think we should continue like we did today." He finished.

"We will try to make dishes that incorporate more Korean flavours, of course." You nodded.

"You're not mad?" Yunho winced, realising he said that out loud when it was meant to be an internal question.

"Why would I be mad?" You blinked in genuine confusion.

"Because of what I said earlier about the food possibly being too fancy. I was afraid that it was offensive or something. I think you all cook amazing, your skills are definitely more than I could ever imagine having, and the food is 100! It's just that this is my first time doing this and I'm afraid and nervous." He blurted.

"Yunho. None of us took what you said personally or to heart. You're the owner and our boss, we follow your direction. I'm personally grateful you were honest with us." You raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Told you." Mingi slapped Yunho's shoulder.

"There's nothing to be worried about. Trust us, we have faced worse insults and criticisms from others before." Jongho laughed.

"Told you." Yeosang mimicked Mingi and slapped Yunho's other shoulder, making Yunho shove his friends away for slapping him with a scowl on his face.

"Please be honest with us. We always look for improvements and ways to be better." Seonghwa smiled.

"We're tougher than you think." You chuckled. Yunho blushed, feeling a little immature now and he felt like he just embarrassed himself in front of you. You noticed how his ears had turned bright red as he looked away with a small pout.

"Alright! We need to start preparing so if you aren't going to help, please step aside." Wooyoung put his hands together with a big smile. Hongjoong and San helped do the remaining dishes.

"Wait, stop. Don't go." You stopped the others mid step. They all froze, turning to you.

"Think of what we can serve tomorrow. We haven't decided that." You said, looking at the 3 chefs, who nodded in agreement.

"But we don't know anything about cooking. I don't think we can offer anything remotely helpful." Mingi rubbed the back of his neck. You grabbed your notepad and marker.

"That's fine. Yunho believed he was bad at cooking but he made the berry tuile." You pointed out.

"She has a point. If Yunho can make something that nice, we probably can too." Yeosang shrugged, making Yunho glare at him and jab his side considering Yeosang was also a bad cook. Yunho would argue that Yeosang is actually a worse cook than he was since he actually burnt the bbq last time.

"Do you know how to make a quiche? I always love quiches." Hongjoong said from his spot at the sink.

"Good idea. We should do something savoury, maybe 2 savoury items?" Seonghwa looked at you. You nodded slowly and looked to Yunho for comments but he didn't say anything.

"Let's do a quiche and a galette. Kimchi, bacon and cheese quiche. Galette can be mixed vegetables with goats cheese top." You thought out loud.

"A galette is like a french pizza but it uses flaky pastry instead of pizza dough." Jongho explained.

"Ohhhhhh." The 5 nodded.

"That sounds good. I like the quiche idea with the kimchi. I'm still not sure what a galette is but I trust all of your tastes." Yunho said. You let out a small chuckle.

"The last baked good, open faced apple danishes? Then we paint apricot jam over." Wooyoung suggested. You wrote that down.

"Now, cakes." You tapped your marker against the metal suface.

"Actually, some customer today were saying they liked that seashell cake because it was good to have on the go with coffee. So maybe we should have a cupcake or muffin sort of item for them to have on the way to work." San said.

"Yes, I did hear people say that. Maybe blueberry muffins? They seem like a nice breakfast muffin." Yunho grinned, his eyes sparkling again at the though of fresh muffins.

"No, no. You need to have chocolate muffins." Mingi wagged his finger at his best friend in denial.

"No, Mingi ah. Blueberry muffins are better, especially with that crunchy, sugar crust on top." Yunho frowned, crossing his arms.

"Chocolate muffins are the best. Everyone loves chocolate muffins, even better with chocolate chips inside. Warm, chocolate muffins." Mingi argued.

"While you two debate on that... For the full cake, let's do a carrot cake." You asked.

"I was thinking matcha cake and we use the leftover strawberries from today." Seonghwa said. You nodded, writing the ideas down. There seemed to be some sort of voting that happened between the 5 because it seemed like chocolate muffins was the decided. Plus, Mingi was doing a happy dance.

"You do know you're the owner right?" You tilted your head, raising your eyebrows.

"I-I know that! But if the rest think that chocolate muffins will be more liked then maybe it is better to do that." Yunho said, concealing his sad tone.

"Okay then. Let's start prepping the pastry dough. We're doing it for quiches and galettes." You instructed.

"We're going to need a lot of butter and flour." Jongho snorted and went into the walk in.

"Let's split. Two people make dough for galettes and the other two will make for the quiches." You said, taking the equipment and putting them into the freezer temporarily.

"Why are you putting the mixer stuff into the freezer?" Yunho asked.

"We don't want the butter to melt so we're making everything as cold as possible. The more pieces of butter we have in the dough when we bake, the more steam and flakiness we get from the pastry." You explained to him. He nodded his head.

"You guys can head back and rest for the night. We'll lock up when we are done here." Seonghwa said to the 5.

"Yeah. We've all had a long day." Wooyoung agreed.

"That's okay, we want to watch." Mingi smiled. You all looked at each other and laughed. Jongho and Wooyoung weighed everything out before you and Seonghwa retrieved the cold mixer parts.

"Looks like we'll need to do it twice. This isn't going to fit into our Kitchen Aids." Jongho sighed.

"It's fine. It's just the initial mixing stage anyway, we'll do the final incorporation with our hands." You said.

"I'll get the cold water." You went out to the front, coming back with two containers of ice water. Once the butter, flour and salt/sugar were crumbled, you and Wooyoung slowly added the cold water into the mixer for the doughs to come together. Jongho helped you to manually bring the dough together.

"Let me." Seonghwa said to Wooyoung, who poured the crumbles onto the metal work surface. Seonghwa gathered it all with his hands, pressing it together.

"Here." You threw some flour and handed them the rolling pin.

"Woahhhhhhh." The 5 said in awe at the way you threw the flour onto the dough and work surface.

"It's like those professionals on television, the way they throw the flour and make it into a cloud. It spreads so evenly." Yeosang said.

"They are professionals!" San elbowed Yeosang. It was amusing, like demonstrating things to a group of kindergarteners. Jongho and Seonghwa rolled the dough out and did two book folds.

"Do you not knead the dough?" Hongjoong asked.

"Not for this dough. Kneading the dough activates the gluten in the flour and creates chewiness. You would want that for bread but not for pastry like this. You want to avoid creating any chewiness so we don't touch it." Seonghwa explained.

"This 'book fold' just creates more layers of butter. If we were doing croissants, we would do it a few more times, that's how you get the layers in a croissant." Jongho added.

"Woo and I will wrap it." You and Wooyoung went over to wrap the slabs of dough, writing on top of the plastic to indicate the use.

"That's it. We'll roll and blind bake them tomorrow morning." Wooyoung said.

"Thank you for teaching us." San smiled kindly.

You did the washing up with Jongho while Wooyoung and Seonghwa cleaned the work surface of butter and flour. The 5 other boys waited for all of you to be done.

"Let's go." Seonghwa grabbed your coat for you. Yunho watched as Seonghwa helped you put your coat on.

"Goodnight. See you all tomorrow." Mingi waved, along with the others. The 4 of you bowed and waved before heading to Wooyoung's car. Yunho and Mingi went to Yunho's car while San and Yeosang rode with Hongjoong. Mingi played the music, waiting for Yunho to start the engine.

"So, how do you really feel?" Mingi asked.

"What do you mean?" Yunho chuckled, confused by his best friend's sudden question.

"It's just the two of us, it's the first day of opening your own restaurant. You can be honest on how you really feel after today. It's okay to hate it." Mingi said.

"Hate it? I don't hate it. For from actually... I honestly thought it was going to be a disaster but it wasn't." Yunho blinked.

"I guess we fit well with the kitchen team then." Mingi said. Yunho hummed in agreement.

"They're professionals, they've worked in so many restaurants before. So I was worried that they would see how much of an amateur I am and quit but they didn't." Yunho confessed.

"Yunho ah, you need to have more faith in humanity. See? (y/n) said they weren't made when you were honest with them." Mingi teased.

Yunho rolled his eyes, knowing that Mingi was making fun of him. But it was Mingi's way of comforting Yunho. You were right, you were tougher than Yunho thought. Something bloomed in Yunho's chest, a whole new feeling of excitement.

"Well, I hope we have a long partnership with them." Yunho said with a soft smile. Mingi turned to his best friend's side profile, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"You're ever so positive." Mingi chuckled.

-

When Yunho walked into the cafe the next morning, he was smiling, coffee cups in hand for his kitchen crew to thank them for a successful first day. But his smile dropped slightly when he noticed only 3 people working in the kitchen.

"Where's (y/n)?" Yunho blinked, handing out the coffees.

"She told us she'll be coming in late today so we started first." Jongho shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee.

"I noticed (y/n) making a drink for you yesterday so I assumed that you are not a coffee drinker... Is a berry smoothie okay?" Yunho turned to Seonghwa.

"Yeah, that's fine. Thanks for noticing." Seonghwa blinked, stunned that Yunho took note of that.

"So... (y/n) is okay?" Yunho cleared his throat.

"She is. If not, Seonghwa hyung wouldn't be here now. He would be busy nursing her." Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa turned to glare at the younger male. He took a sip of the smoothie and continued working on what he was doing. Yunho just stared in confusion but nodded his head.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Right on cue, you walked in. There was a container you were cradling in your hands. But no one could see what was inside, there was tin foil covering it.

"Morning." Yunho followed you in while you were putting your stuff in the small locker room.

"Hey." You replied.

"Are you alright?" Yunho asked, twidling his thumbs. After putting your bag in the small cubby, you turned around to face him, raising an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You asked back. Your questions back made Yunho flustered.

"N-No reason." He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed and grabbed your apron from the rack, tying it around your waist. You dug into your bag to take your knives out.

"Don't worry about me being late, I told the boys I'll stay back later to clean up after them, make up for however late I was." You spoke. Yunho wasn't worried about that, he knew that you would work schedules out with your team better than he could.

"Also, here." You shoved the container you were carrying into his hands and walked out, not wanting your team to wait any longer.

"Wait, what is-" Yunho stopped when he opened the container and saw fresh blueberry muffins inside. Touching one with his finger, he felt how they were still warm.

'Since blueberry muffins didn't win the vote.'

Was all your scribbled on the post it note that was stuck to the side of the container.

"Yunho ah. Why are you just standing there?" Mingi walked into the small space, appearing behind his best friends. He curiously peeked over Yunho's shoulder.

"Are those muffins?" Mingi asked and reached out for one but Yunho slapped Mingi's hand away, quickly closing the container.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Mingi hissed.

"Those are mine. Get your own." Yunho frowned, holding the container to his chest like it was a treasure chest filled with gold. Mingi looked at Yunho but held his hands up in defeat. Clearing his throat, Yunho went out to the front, where he was alone. He grabbed his coffee and tore open a muffin to eat.

The burst of gooey, slightly tart blueberry, coupled with the crunchy top and warmth of the muffin was the perfect accompaniment to the coffee he had.

"What's Yunho doing sitting there?" Hongjoon asked after seeing his friend sit at one of the booths.

"I can tell you what he's not doing, and that's sharing his muffins." Mingi scoffed. Hongjoong cast the taller a strange look.

"I'm going to kitchen to steal samples." Mingi said and entered the kitchen. San was already snacking on the off cuts of the carrot cake that you were cutting, wanting to edges to line up to frost.

"Hey, I want some too!" Mingi said.

"Here, have this." San held a small piece out to him. Yeosang stood by Jongho's side, watching Jongho fan out the apple slices on top of the pastry.

"That's so pretty." Yeosang complimented. Jongho nodded with a hum.

"I'm not cutting through, just scoring it so the sides around the apple slices will puff up but the middle won't." Jongho explained. Once he lined up all the apple danishes on the tray, he did a light egg wash on the exposed pastry and put the tray into the oven.

"What are you doing next?" He asked.

"I have to thin out this apricot jam to brush over the apples when it is done. It will give a nice shine and sweetness." Jongho explained.

"Who is making the quiche filling?" You asked the kitchen as you were whipping up the cream cheese frosting for the carrot cake. Wooyoung raised his hand.

"Let me just put the matcha cakes in the oven before starting on that." He said.

"Jongho, when you're done with the apricot glaze, you can start slicing the strawberries that will go in the cake." You instructed.

"Sure." Jongho nodded.

"I've started the chocolate muffins. We still need someone to put the galettes in the oven after the apple danishes come out. The vegetables have been prepped and sliced." Seonghwa said.

"I'll do it after frosting my cake." You replied. After having your 3 layers of carrot cake, you frosted them with the icing.

"What icing is this?" San asked.

"Cream cheese icing. The same as the one on the red velvet cake." You took a plastic spoon from the cup and scooped out some to let him have a taste. But before he put it in his mouth, he put some of the cake crumbs on top to have it together. He ate it and let out sounds of happiness.

"So good!" San said with a big smile. You chuckled and started the frost the cake. You were not the best at cake decorating so you just topped it swirls of the frosting, it looked pretty in a rustic way.

"Let's put this in the fridge." You brought the tray to the smaller fridge and put it in there.

"What am I working on next?... Oh, galettes." You said and grabbed the metal containers where Jongho had sliced the vegetables.

"Have the aubergines been sweated already?" You asked.

"Yes. Done and rinsed." Jongho replied. Sometimes, aubergines could be bitter so you usually sprinkle salt on them to draw out the moisture and rinse off the salt afterwards.

"So what's in here?" Yeosang came up next to you, looking at the sliced vegetables.

"Zucchini, yellow squash, bell peppers, onions and aubergines. So we'll bake this then crumble some feta cheese over." You said.

"That sounds good and I don't even like vegetables." Hongjoong chuckled from the doorway. Mingi and San seconded. It slightly amused you that these men were so open about their distaste for vegetables like children.

"We'll make you like vegetables for as long as we're here." Wooyoung joked.

"Yes, we're good at making vegetables tasty." You smiled.

~

Series masterlist

[sorencd]

could you write something about reader being scared of wilson cheating on her but then he conforts her? cuz with the history of cheating that he has i would be scared lmao

SANCTUARY

a/n : thank u sm for the req! i love me some good old comfort w wilson. i don't know how this turned into 1.4k i told myself i would keep it short lol. reader is a doctor btw! and charlotte is the name i gave ur friend :)

w.c. : 1.4k

"dude, are you okay?"

your friend's sudden voice that came out of nowhere brought you back from your mindless gazing, you didn't even notice that you were absent-mindedly staring off into space. a few patients got scared because they thought you were judging them with your stare, and after a few complaints, your friend finally approached you to ask if you were okay.

"hm?"

"you're definitely not okay."

"i'm- yeah! i'm totally fine. you were saying?"

she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, not believing a single word that came out of your lips. you knew your actions were giving away too much, but even if you tried hiding the fact that something was bothering you, she'd probe and pry more relentlessly.

"what's wrong? there's something wrong. are you okay?"

you sighed defeatedly, there's no more escaping her. figuring that there isn't much to do aside from telling her what's on your mind, you pulled your friend into an empty room and shut the door. resting your back against the surface and in a hushed whisper, ushered her to come closer.

"are you pregnant?"

"what- no! charlotte what on earth- say that again and i'm no longer telling you."

"ok ok! i'm shutting the fuck up. you may continue."

a brief pause encapsulated the unoccupied room before you opened your lips hesistantly. opening up to people was something you always found hard to do, whether they be a family member or a close friend, you could never easily voice out your thoughts. but you couldn't really hold this in any longer, you needed to tell someone.

"i've been feeling... an awful lot insecure lately. not the kind that involves my appearance! that's saved for tuesdays."

"then what kind?"

"it.. it's about wilson.."

"what did he do? do you need me to chop off his-"

"no no! none of that! it's just... i'm scared i'll just end up as another ex-this or ex-that or someone that house would mention to him and james would gag whenever he hears my name. i don't know maybe i'm just being over-dramatic."

"have you tried telling wilson about how you’re feeling?"

"i've tried starting the conversation.. but i'd always end up chickening out. so now i'm stuck with these self-deprecating thoughts and i don't like it one bit." you ended with a huff, hiding your face behind your hands and tiredly letting your shoulders slouch down. "it's hard talking to patients when every single one of them would ask me if 'everything's alright', i should be the one asking them that!"

"you know, you shouldn't be bottling your feelings. a relationship goes two ways, don't be scared to tell any of this to wilson! asking for reassurance is never a bad thing, and it doesn't make you needy or demanding or whatever, it's your right as his partner! i'm sure wilson would understand, he loves you very much, how could he not?"

"you're right.. i'll talk to him when he have lunch together."

"you won't chicken out?"

"i won't. i swear."

"you better. i'll be watching you."

you quickly opened the door to avoid staying in the room for too long, you didn't want someone to catch you too talking about personal matters. charlotte waved you off before returning back to her department, leaving you alone. you decided that for the remainder of your vacant and spare time you were going to rehearse what you plan on telling wilson, you didn't want to embarrass yourself and stutter the entire time. so you scurried away into your office, determined to go through with your plan.

if anyone were to press their ear against the door, they would have heard your incessant muttering and would've thought you were insane. you had your feet propped up on the table as you recited word for word how you were going to tell all of this to wilson, despite knowing that when the time comes, all of it would be useless and you'd go completely off script. but it gets your mind off of things so you carried on. a familiar knocking pattern resounded over your hushed whispering, it was wilson. he had this specific knocking style that you grew accustomed too. you felt a shiver run down and a dreaded feeling dripped in each step you took on your way to open the door for james, since you kept it locked, not wanting anyone to see you panicking in your office. you twisted the door knob slowly, and behind it was wilson. standing happily and his usual dorky smile making an appearance when he saw your face.

"hi."

"hi. you ready to grab lunch?"

you turned your head to the side before answering, a habit that always showed whenever you were nervous and you never seemed to be able to get rid of it. to try and avoid him from gaining any suspicion that something's wrong and notice how tense and sweaty your palms were, you tried making small talk. 'i'm not myself at all.'

the entire short walk to the canteen you listened to wilson ramble about some case house had, and how they're having a hard time diagnosing the patient. and no matter how hard you tried focusing on wilson's voice the gnawing feeling won't stop buzzing and crawling at the back of your mind, you felt sick.

wilson, from the moment you opened the door to your office, knew something was up. you didn't have that bright favorite smile of his, nor did you have any snarky remarks to say while he was storytelling. you didn't contribute to the conversation at all, and it wasn't like you. it carried on even until you two came back from the canteen and retreated to his office. he wanted to ask you what's wrong, but he didn't want to pressure you into saying anything you aren’t ready to tell him. so instead he waited until you were the one to approach him. he was also half-nervous that if he ever asked, you'd just suddenly blurt out that you two should break up. and he'd rather not have that happen.

"james.. i'm..." now it was wilson's turn to be nervous. "you love me, right?"

you had this.. sad look on your face that wilson wasn't used to, he couldn’t describe it. you looked defeated, tired even. he began to replay the last few days, you were fine! you were your usual, loving, witty, happy self!

"yes, of course i do." he replied with all seriousness, dropping the files he picked up to reorganize them. "why do you ask?"

"it's nothing, really. and i don't know why i did."

he gently approached you, careful not to seem condescending when he gently took a hold of both your wrists.

"i'm pretty sure you going quiet is never a good idea and is 'nothing'. come on sweetheart, you can tell me anything."

when you looked up into his eyes and found nothing but sincerity, you cracked and gave in. you told him everything that was on your mind.

"i'm- i was.. i was scared, james. i was scared that you'd leave me for some... better girl or something i don't even know myself, and that i'd just end up as another one of your exes. i don't want that! i don't want any of this to end and i'm so so scared that it eventually would and i can't do anything about it and i couldn't tell you earlier because i was scare you'd get mad or somethi-"

"(y/n)."

the soft mention of your name stopped you from rambling on any further. and now you were in his embrace, his arms wrapped around you perfectly and tightly. when wilson pulled away, youhad tears threatening to fall from your eyelids.

"i'd never leave you for anyone else, (y/n). why would i when i already found the one? i already found you. you just- complete me. i can't put into words how much you make me feel content or- or happy, loved, it's like you were always here. i would have to be an idiot to let you go. besides, you know too much about me. you're stuck with me forever."

he still managed to make you laugh despite the tears running down your cheeks. you probably looked insane, laughing and crying at the same time.

"you're- i love you, james."

"i love you too, (y/n). don't ever be afraid to talk about anything, okay?"

"okay."

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Three

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

Playlist | Masterlist

Friday crawled by at a snail’s pace. You normally hated Fridays. The campus was always buzzing with so much activity on the weekends, and it made it hard for you to focus on your studies. Saturday and Sunday were the days you would reserve for working on big projects, but it was difficult sometimes when every other dorm room in a 100-foot radius was blasting music. Part of you felt like a grumpy old man, wanting to go bang on doors and shout turn it down! A smaller, quieter part of you was envious of those who had the time, and friends, to party.

You dragged yourself over to the dining hall after class, your mind filled with thoughts of the party you’d be going to tomorrow. It gave you butterflies to think about it. Meeting new people wasn’t something you were great at, nor enjoyed, and big parties were far from your favorite thing. You stared at the sky, the clouds brushed a gentle pink as the sun set, and wondered if it was too late to cancel.

The dining hall was something you typically avoided if you could help it, preferring your microwaved noodles over any of the slop they served there, but you’d been a bit burnt out on the styrofoam-y taste of chicken-flavored cup noodles lately. You managed to find a quiet corner, and sat down with a tray of the few things in the place that looked edible.

Across the room, you watched a group of jock-type guys make their way in, shoving each other and laughing. One of them locked eyes with you, and you quickly turned your head away and pulled out your phone, opening whatever app came up first, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way directly to where you were sitting. You’d been hit on at this god-forsaken place more than once, and it appeared it was about to happen again. You sighed, and turned your eyes up to the potential suitor.

You blinked a few times. Of course it was Sam. Why did it always have to be Sam?

“Hey!” He called.

You gave him a wave and a small smile, not really in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to eat in peace, but that would have to wait, as he pulled out the chair across from you, dropping his tray onto the table and sitting down.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I don’t usually partake in the unholy abominations they serve here.”

He laughed, holding up a slice of utterly unappetizing pizza he had on his plate. “What, this doesn’t make you hungry?”

“Not exactly.” You picked at what was on your plate, wishing you’d simply settled for noodles tonight.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asked between bites.

You put on a brave smile, lying through your teeth. “Totally.” You wouldn’t describe your feelings as excited, necessarily. Terrified was more of the word you were looking for.

“It starts at, like, 8. I think. I dunno. I’ll let you know.”

You nodded. That was somewhat good news – you could use the I’m tired excuse after only an hour or two.

“What should I wear?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I got this, like…vintage sweater thing I wanna wear.” His eyes lit up, clearly excited about it. “It’s blue and brown and it's got all these cool designs on it, and it’s so comfy. I love it.”

You couldn't help but soften up a bit, seeing how excited he got over something as simple as a sweater. He was so enthusiastic when you asked him where he got it, going on a tirade about all of the thrift stores in town while you ate and listened, and he told you all about how they had so many hidden gems if you knew when to look.

“I should go to some of them some time.”

“Absolutely! I’ll take you there!”

He was so sweet sometimes it was almost annoying. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah! Like, a little thrift store date.”

Cold silence froze the air between you two, his smile fading, your face prickling with a rising blush. Date.

“I mean, not like that. I meant like, friend date. Not date. Just going to thrift stores together. Like friends. Are we friends?”

There it was once again, that rushed, frantic tone he got when he was flustered.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say back, looking out the window and back to you a few times, silent. You needed a cigarette.

“Well,” you sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m gonna go smoke.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll text you.”

You’d half-expected him to ask to join you, a little surprised he didn’t. Maybe even a bit disappointed. “See you then.”

It was starting to feel like you couldn’t have a normal interaction with him. Every time, it was something. Though, seeing him tonight seemed to wash some of your worries away. He was kind, and from what you knew about him, he seemed like a good companion to have at a party of strangers.

Sleep came easily that night, thankfully. You drifted off peacefully, finally exhausted from the week before. And in your dreams, you found yourself in a familiar place. If it was possible to get deja vu in dreams, you were feeling it.

You were at the top of a skyscraper in some city you didn't recognize, the wind blowing hard enough to throw you off the edge, but you didn't move. The sky was clear and full of stars, galaxies streaking across the blackness and lighting everything in a delicate purple.

Sam was next to you, pointing at the sky, saying words that were carried away on the wind, but somehow you knew he was explaining the stars to you. He would point at a section of sky and it would glow, as if he held dominion over the stars. Like he told them when to shine.

And then, you were in a dorm room, similar to yours but not quite right, the layout was all wrong. You laid on a bed that was too big for a dorm, and just above you, Sam was there. His face hovered just above yours, his hair hanging down to brush the sides of your face. You knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it gladly, your body melting into his. He was made of warmth and light, and love, so much love.

* * *

Your eyes opened to daylight, the dream ending abruptly, leaving you disoriented when you finally came to your senses. These dreams were starting to get ridiculous. He wouldn’t leave your head, even when he wasn't around. You put your mind to work immediately to push any thoughts of him aside, getting out your laptop and starting up your to-do list for the day.

The minutes ticked by slowly, your eyes always watching the clock, waiting for a text from him, dreading the night ahead. I’ll show up to be kind, have one drink, and disappear. Nobody will even notice when I leave, you thought. Though, nothing seemed to be that level of straightforward around Sam.

You successfully kept yourself preoccupied, until you decided to work on your joint project. He’d written quite a bit since the last time you looked at the document. It was endearing, like you were getting a glimpse into a part of him very few people knew. His style was brutish, getting his point across in as few words as possible, with the most blunt language he could muster. It was cute, in a way.

Time seemed to speed up while you occupied yourself, and before you were anywhere near ready to do so, it was finally time to get yourself ready for the party. You did so in silence, working the party over in your mind. It wasn’t too late to cancel. But you couldn’t do that to him. You imagined how his face would fall when you would tell him you couldn’t go anymore, and it broke your heart a bit. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not after that dream you'd had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, knocking you out of your thoughts. Sam’s name was on the screen.

leaving soon, you ready? he’d sent.

ready when you are

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror, memories of your dream from the night before washing over you once again. Staring into your own eyes, you willed it away, pushing the memory down to the deepest recesses of your consciousness until it was lost with all the other thoughts that wandered around in there. You could not possibly face him with such a dream still knocking against the forefront of your mind.

When you finally met Sam on the first floor, you were a bit taken aback at just how…nice he looked. He was wearing the sweater he’d told you about, the patterns and colors complimenting his features perfectly. He had on a faded pair of jeans with a few square patches of fabric sewn into them – one with an elephant on it, another with a detailed drawing of a star. His hair was down, flawless and glossy as always. He gave you a toothy grin when he saw you, his eyes briefly running up and down the length of your body.

“You look nice,” he said, the words catching in his throat a bit.

“Same to you,” you replied, trying to keep a level head with his words repeating over and over in your mind.

“Thanks!” He looked down at himself. “I made these myself,” he motioned at the jeans. “Well, I didn't, like, make them, but I found these cool patches and put ‘em on.”

“You can sew?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course I can. My mom taught me when I was a youngin.”

The thought of him sitting in his dorm, delicately sewing patches onto his jeans, was almost too much for you to bear. “Wanna get going?” The daylight had already long faded from the sky, the few stars obscured by a blanket of clouds.

“Absolutely, miss eclipse.”

“Don’t call me that, cornball.”

“Missus eclipse? Ma’am?” He cocked his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip against a smile. The things he said, coming from any other person, wouldn't even solicit a grin from you half the time. But something about him…you couldn’t help but laugh at every one of his jokes. “Let’s go already.”

The two of you made your way out of the hall and out into the night. There was a surprising number of people out tonight – though, that was only your perception. You didn’t leave the dorms much on Saturday nights if you could help it. Too much commotion, too many drunk men. Walking with Sam felt safe, though.

You made light small talk as you walked, discussing things like the coming winter, how you’d heard it was going to be a pretty bad one this year. You’d expected to feel more nervous at this point, but your body and mind both felt rather calm; as calm as they could be in Sam’s presence. There was something about him that radiated calm, like a lit fireplace or the smoke from incense. Walking with him, even in silence, felt right in a way you couldn't place. And between words, you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand as you walked.

[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 25: preliminary (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: sliiiightly early because I have a busyish day tomorrow at a writer's conference! I may return to this chapter to rework some things bc I just couldn't make myself happy with it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

Summary: The first round of preliminaries for the Spring Tournament begin and end.

Warnings and tags: none!

Words: 3600+

The first school that your boys are going up against looks like it's comprised entirely of delinquents. You don't necessarily like to judge people based on their looks, but now that you're on the court for warm ups, you get to listen to them taunt Tanaka and confirm your initial impression beyond a doubt. Of course, it's getting to Tanaka, and more importantly, it's getting to you.

"Is it just me," Yachi says, hugging her arms to herself, "or do volleyball players just all naturally look pretty scary?"

You nod. "I bet they're all talk, though, I mean, look at them."

"I am looking at them!" she replies in a hushed whisper. "They're big! And scary! They are literally picking a fight with Tanaka-senpai right now!"

You shrug. "Yeah, I bet they feel really good picking a fight from the other side of the net. But like, you see that hair? Dude obviously cares more about how he looks than things like actually being cool or actually being good in a fight. I could probably kick his ass myself." Just for fun and because your head is starting to hurt, you make it a point to raise your voice a little bit. "Guys like that always chicken out the second they actually have to do anything real."

Yachi goes deathly pale and grabs at your arm harshly. "[name]-chan! They're gonna hear you! I think one of them did!"

You feel a little bad, but not for that—being heard was the point, thank you. It's more to do with the way she's more worried about your safety than she is assured by your absolute confidence. "Deep breaths, Yacchan."

Though you would love to keep talking trash, it probably isn't the best sportsmanship to start fights with the other team, even as a manager. That, and Yachi might actually pass out if you keep threatening to fight them. Instead, you begrudgingly keep your mouth shut for the rest of warmups.

When the time comes to head up to the stands with Yachi—only one manager allowed on the court for the match, after all—Noya pulls you to the side with an expectant look. You roll your eyes, but the Ohgi Minami guys are watching and looking for shit to talk, so what else is there to do but play it up?

"Yes, Senpai?" you ask sweetly, making it a point to tilt your head ever so sweetly.

He blinks in surprise. "…what are you doing?"

A saccharine smile. "Your opponents are pissing me off. Yachi looked like she was going to pass out when I told her I could take 'em in a fight, so I'm being forced to resort to the next best thing: being a girl who acts all cute and sweet with you guys and rubbing it in their faces."

He laughs and ruffles your hair. "That's good. You're still not allowed to get into any fights, but we'll make sure to beat 'em for you. You gotta promise me something, though."

"Mm?" You tilt your head cutely.

"Stop being so damn cute, I'm trying to propose right now. You gotta marry me if we win, okay?"

You smile and laugh right back. "I'll marry you if you hit the quota and win for me. We have a deal?"

"You didn't even have to ask." He pulls you into a quick side hug, and you flash a smile and wave on your way out to the hallway. The grin only widens when you catch sight of a few fuming guys on the other team who obviously witnessed the exchange. Too easy.

There aren't many people in the stands today. Part of it, you think, is the fact that surely, high school volleyball can't be that popular. Then again this is only the preliminary part of the Spring Tournament, and apparently, all the really big, fun matches are yet to come. Most of them won't be until the end of October.

Still, there are a few people who come to watch. Some fisherman type who, based on the exchange between him and someone else who's just joined the cheering section, is from the neighborhood and comes to support Karasuno. The other guy comes in with two kids who must be in early middle school at the absolute oldest. The kids⁴⁰ take an immediate interest in you and Yachi.

"Nee-san, why aren't the two of you also on the court?" one of them asks.

Yachi takes immediate offense. You pretend not to. "D-didn't you know that only one manager is allowed on the bench?"

The other kid peeks out at the court and spots Shimizu. "Ooh. Karasuno must be really cool to have three whole managers!"

Yachi flinches, her eyes darting to you. For a second, you think she's about to say something on your behalf. You would rather that she didn't, so you speak up. "More like, they create so much trouble that they need three whole people running around after them." You roll your eyes playfully. "But really, the redundancy is good. We make up for what the other can't do."

"[n-name]-chan…"

You grin, rest your arms on the railing and your chin on your arms. "Like, Yacchan here's better at talking to people, and creative stuff. I can do heavier lifting and throw troublemakers across the room as needed."

"A-and you're back on that again…" she sighs. She turns to talking with the kids—good for her. You don't know the first thing about all that, so you're happy to leave the job to her while waiting for the match to kick up.

And kick up it does—it seems to fly by. Asahi starts off by absolutely nailing the new serve, and you can't help the little swell of pride as the guys on Ohgi Minami's team seem completely shell-shocked by that alone. Wait until they get to actually play.

From what you've been able to gather, the boys aren't exactly unknown. You'd listened in with pride when, during set-up time, some guys from another school were gossiping about them. All, Kitagawa Daichi's Kageyama and Chidoriyama's Nishinoya, best libero when he was in middle school and they had Seijoh on the ropes at the Inter-high. (They'd immediately killed the intimidating vibes, courtesy of the usual culprits messing around, but it had been a nice moment to overhear.)

The intimidation is well-earned, it seems. That first point hadn't been a fluke—the boys are completely on-point today. Even without the new quick in action just yet, they pull through the first set—16 to 25, hardly even a contest. Not only that, but you're even more confident that these guys aren't fighters now—the way the captain just watched a ball go that he might've saved. This is more serious volleyball than the training camp, and your boys are taking it seriously, but…

You sigh. As fun as it is to watch them kick ass, they're a bit more fun when they have to push themselves.

For a moment, you think things will be different for the second set—someone on the other side yelling at the Ohgi Minami guys from the stands, and even their declaration of battle, imply that maybe they might get there. And maybe in that second set they do try harder, but so do your boys, and in the end, you get one really interesting rally to watch at the very end and, more importantly—

You're not sure if Yachi hugs you, or you hug her, but there you are, cheering as it sinks in that the boys have won the first official match. You feel a little bad about the other team, but not nearly bad enough to not smile with Yachi and then immediately tone it down before a certain someone sees you getting all excited.

You meet up with the boys in the hall, get your Noya-mandated hugs in, pass out drinks and light snacks to keep them fueled as they watch the match of whoever they're going to be playing next. It's one Kakugawa High School versus Nishida High School, and Kakugawa has a very tall guy, so obviously they're kicking ass. Apparently.

"Being that tall isn't even fair…" Tanaka breathes as he peeks in through the gym door. Behind you, Hinata's talking something about fusing with some random shark species? You don't know what he's on about.

"Is being that tall that big of a deal?" you wonder to Noya. "I mean, I know it's an advantage or whatever, but…"

"Aw, are you worried?" Noya teases. "It won't be easy, but watching him play… let's just say, I've got some ideas."

You tilt your head. "Like…?"

"Just watch, and keep giving me your luck." He flashes that usual smile.

You have no fucking clue what he's talking about, but sure.

Your headache builds over the course of the next match. The first set goes to Karasuno, much more balanced than before. Your cheering grows quieter—not because you're less excited, but because the longer you watch, the more your head hurts and the less you can keep up with anything. You're aware enough to know that you should have bothered Sensei for painkillers between matches, that you really should go outside and get some air. Aware enough to remember the moment of genuine worry at the beginning of the first set, and the cheer when the disaster duo broke out the new quick. That, and the horrific spike in pain at the crowd's reaction.

And they win. Of course they win—you of all people know how hard those boys worked. They've earned it.

Then comes packing up, a full spinning hug from Noya that leaves you dizzy in a bad way, and, when Noya and Tanaka offer to Shimizu to help carry the bags, your out to calm down and catch your breath somewhere quiet.

"I'm going to check and make sure no one's left anything behind," Shimizu says to you and Yachi.

You step up with your best smile. "Can I handle it? I need to run to the bathroom, anyway."

She arches a perfect brow. "Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Please? No one let me help carry anything. I wanna do one useful thing today." You smile sweetly, bat your lashes. And, of course, get your way.

"Alright. Meet us outside?"

You grin, nod enthusiastically. Rush off to where everyone had been camping out between matches today.

("Is she okay, do you think?" Shimizu asks when the coast is clear.

Yachi shakes her head. "She was getting really quiet towards the start of the last set. I think her head's acting up again."

Noya crosses his arms and watches you disappear.)

It takes all of two seconds to find a familiar bento box, even though you're purposely lingering now that you're out of the team's sight—Hinata's, wrapped up in some cutesy cloth you'd considered teasing him about earlier today—and confirm that nothing else is remaining. Then, you find a quiet place to sigh and try to regain your bearings.

You just gotta make it through the bus ride home, and then the walk home. You can tell Noya your dad's home, so then you can get alone and go right to bed to sleep off the headache…

Yeah, it's doable.

A deep breath. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes in hopes that the pressure will do something, anything to soothe the growing ache.

You'd never blame Hinata, but right now, you really wish you could be mad at someone for this. You're so fucking tired of the headaches, of not being able to make it through the day. When you get back to school, you—

A presence interrupts your spiral, and you drag your hand down your face to find that you're being cornered by two strangers—troublemaker types by the looks of it. The one who catches your eye and smiles, walks right up with all the confidence in the world, has an undercut and, when he speaks, you catch the flash of a silver tongue piercing in his mouth.

If your head wasn't starting to spin, he might be slightly attractive.

"Hey there," he says with a smooth tone. "You doing alright? Anything I can do to help out a pretty girl like you?"

"Leave me alone, for one thing," you reply. "I'm gonna be running late real soon, and—"

"Aw, come on, don't be like that. It doesn't have to take long, if I could just get your number we can talk after you catch up with whoever it is."

You sigh. "With my boyfriend?"

Somehow, he's not that fazed. "When you break up with him, then?"

"Excuse me?" You raise an eyebrow. God, if you were two percent less dizzy, you'd—

"Um!" comes the interruption of a very familiar shout, and then Hinata's sliding in between the two of you. "S-sorry, but [surname]-san's our manager and we really need to go, so!"

He grabs you, tugs you along. You struggle to keep up, stumble after him, but then he's literally throwing Hinata to the side, and oh hell no—

Your hand balls into a fist. You're about two seconds from actually decking this guy when Hinata full on leaps in the way (holy shit he could probably jump over you if he wanted) and completely distracts the guy, who goes on some complete other tangent that you don't have the energy to follow beyond thank fuck he stopped trying to get my number.

He leaves. You sigh.

"Thanks, Hinata. Sorry about that. You didn't get hurt when he pushed you, did you?"

He shakes his head. "I'm okay. You?"

"Just… head hurts. Probably good. Probably would have gotten arrested if my head didn't get in the way."

"A-arrested!? [surname]-san—"

You laugh, wave it off. "I get a little heated sometimes. He was pissing me off. I was a moment away from punching him, that's all."

"Well… okay…" He frowns.

"Seriously, though. Thank you for helping out. But, um, could you do me a favor and not mention what happened to any of the guys?"

"About your head?"

"No, about that guy hitting on me. You know what Noya-senpai's like. It'd be a whole thing and I just—can't handle things until the head clears up."

There's a beat where he registers the request, and then he nods. "No problem! I'll keep my mouth shut!"

"Great. Thanks. By the way—this's yours, right?" You wave the bento at him. "Cute cloth."

He flushes. "It's—uh—I borrowed it from my little sister!"

If you'd had more energy, you'd tease him properly. As it stands, you can barely muster the energy to drag yourself along beside him on the way back to the bus. There, you're greeted with twin I'm so glad you're safe!s from Noya and surprise guest Tanaka, loud enough to make you cringe and to make them sheepishly apologize.

Painkillers from Sensei, earplugs brought along, and resting your head on Noya—though you'd insisted he sit with one of the guys, since you didn't plan on being an interesting seatmate—delivers you most of the way home. Unlike the Tokyo trips, this drive is only about half an hour, so you don't even really get to fall asleep so much as space out for a little while. When you give up on trying to sleep, you take out one earplug and listen in on whatever conversation has your pillow moving disobediently beneath your head.

"You remember that I said I wouldn't help you with the summer homework⁴¹, right?" Ennoshita is saying.

Noya sighs in defeat. "Right…"

Hinata lets out a pained noise. "How long do we have to finish that, again…?"

"Like a week. You should be fine if you actually sit down and do it."

You whine. "Do you think they'll waive it for me? I haven't even looked at it."

"N-not even you, [surname]-san?"

"My head exploded. I have an excuse."

Yachi turns around from the seat in front of you. "I'm mostly done. Do you want to work on it together?"

You pick up your head, teary-eyed. "Y-Yacchan…"

"Yachi-san! [surname]-san! Do you guys wanna work on it together, too? Kageyama and I need help…" Hinata pipes up.

"We could host something," Noya offers. "You guys all wanna come over tomorrow?"

Suddenly, the conversation is off the rails—they're discussing logistics, hosting, whatever while you completely fail to keep up. One thing you manage, though—shooting off a text or two.

[name] to Rina-san at 16:53

[name]: hi rina-san! Sorry to bother you—Senpai's talking about maybe having like five people (including me) over for a couple hours tomorrow for a summer homework session and I think he forgot to run it by you lol. Is that alright? I was already planning on handling the snacks

Rina-san: that's perfectly fine with me. Thank you for asking! I'll text the girls and make sure they know

You slip Noya's phone out of his pocket just as it buzzes with a new text or two.

Okaa-san to Nishinoyas at 16:57

Okaa-san: girls, yuu's gonna have some friends over tomorrow if there's no objections

Okaa-san: no one has any plans right??

Satsuki: why is yuu not telling us directly hmm

Okaa-san: [name]-chan was the one to let me know

Satsuki: say no more. Bring on the idiot friends + [name]-chan

Yuu: aw, be nice. They're all smart, they just don't worry about academics until it gets in the way of volleyball

Satsuki: DIFFERENT TYPING STYLE SPOTTED

Satsuki: IS THAT THE BONUS SISTER I SEE?

Yuu: I stole his phone again 💝 he's discussing plans with the others but my head hurts too much to keep up so I figured I'd worry about the other logistics. Like making sure he could actually invite a bunch of people over

Mei: hi [name]-chan! How were the matches?

Yuu: volleyboys did great. We're almost back at the school

Yuu: they'll be moving on to the next stage of the qualifiers at the end of october! 🎉

Kaede: CONGRATS YUU (whenever you give him his phone back)

Mei: 🎉

Satsuki: dammit now I have to wait at least a week before calling him a loser. Worst possible news 

Yuu: which means we now have to worry about summer homework. Which I haven't started bc in my defense, the concussion,

Yuu: we're hoping to study session our way to actually getting stuff done. Which means probably me and our other first-year manager corralling four boys who can only focus when volleyball is involved

Satsuki: oo the mythical third manager is coming? Is she cute?

Yuu: she's adorable. Full-on cute aggression is involved

Satsuki: 👀 gay?

Yuu: unclear. She hasn't really shown interest in anyone of any gender.

Yuu: but if noya-senpai wanted to protect ME from you then she definitely couldn't handle you, nee-san. She's too sweet, sorry 💔

Satsuki: 💔

"Oi, is that my phone?" Noya's voice cuts in suddenly.

You glance up with a grin. "If you couldn't feel me literally reach into your pocket to grab it, I think that's on you. Rina-san says it's okay to have people over tomorrow, though."

"Oh! Great! I totally forgot to ask."

A laugh. "I figured as much. Don't worry, Senpai, I got you. The girls hold no objections, either, but I'm getting the weird sense that Satsuki-nee's gonna pop in at some point, as a heads up. She's curious about the mythical bonus girl. Yacchan, you're coming, right?"

"Yeah! It sounds fun!"

"Cool cool, I've warned Satsuki."

"Um—warned?"

You laugh. "Don't worry about it. Nee-san's just a little forward."

"Oh, um, okay—wait, forward?"

"Again, don't worry about it!"

This does not seem to placate her as the bus turns into the school. Eventually, you have to give Noya his phone back, and on the walk home, you bicker over snack logistics in preparation for tomorrow. You just hope that your headache will calm enough to get something done tomorrow.

40. I did some SCOURING about these kids and found out, essentially, that we don't know shit about them other than they're Old Coach Ukai's students. On one hand, this means I get to do whatever I want. On the other hand [anguished wailing] I HAVE TO NAME THEM??? I may end up not doing so, since I don't plan for them to be extremely plot-important and also I don't want to.

41. You would not believe how insistent the internet is on just NOT FUCKING TELLING ME shit about high school summer homework. I basically know that it exists, but all the information in English is about, like, "I have an elementary schooler and we want to travel during summer break how do summer homework" or the kinds of things elementary and maybe middle school students do for summer homework. The main thing I was able to find related to specifically high school students beyond summer homework existing was actually a paper⁴² analyzing the disparity between how important teachers thought specific summer homework tasks were and how important the students performing them thought they were, and this study was solely limited to English courses and related homework. In the end I decided to just handwave it as "they've got a bunch of worksheets and practice problem packets and maybe some stuff to read".

42. Tsunehisa Isaji, "Relationships Between Teachers' Instructions on Homework to Japanese High School Students and Their Homework Activities" Japan Society of English Language Education 20 (2009): 211-220. https://doi.org/10.20581/arele.20.0_211

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[brunette-barbie4562]

Uncharted (Duff McKagan X OC)

Summary: Unsure of her next steps in life, Carreen Joy "CJ" Thompson finds herself taking a job working under the Guns N' Roses bassist Duff McKagan during the Not in the Lifetime... Tour. She faces the fast-paced and foreign world of rock n' roll, touring, and groupies, as well as blossoming taboo feelings for her boss.

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Trigger warnings: Sexual themes, mentions of abortion & drug use.

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Note: Sorry for the late update on this one. The end of the semester happened quicker than I thought it would 😅 I’m going to really try to commit to updates every other week, unless there are special circumstances with school stuff, but I will let everyone know if that is the case. I am a bit of a perfectionist with editing and I like to do at least ten pages of content before I post, so sometimes that slows me down too. Thanks for the patience 💕

10

March 2018

The Farm / Redding, CA

CJ couldn’t help but check her phone every 2 seconds after sending the text to Jess. She didn’t know how Jess would respond, or if she would respond at all. Work picked back up which was a nice distractor, but CJ was drawn back to her phone.

“Hey, you mind grabbing lunch?” Mindy poked her head in the doorway. CJ looked up from her phone.

“Ya, no problem,” said CJ, “Where from?”

“I’m placing an order at Maxwell’s, what do you want?”

“I’ll take a chicken pesto sandwich,” said CJ. Mindy nodded and disappeared from the doorway. CJ leaned back in her chair, listening to Mindy place the order over the phone in the other room. Her phone made a pinging noise from her desk, and she quickly sat up, grabbing it. She had a new message. Holding her breath, she opened the notification to see Jess’ response.

Long time no talk.

CJ quickly texted back as she heard Mindy finish her call.

Can I call you in 10?

Yes.

CJ felt her nerves creep into her stomach. She walked into Mindy’s office and grabbed her wallet and the car keys off the front table.

“Should be ready, or almost ready when you get over there,” said Mindy. CJ nodded, eager to get to the car. She said a few quick hellos to some coworkers on her way out. When she got in Mindy’s car, she immediately put her phone on Bluetooth, placing the call to Jess. The phone rang several times, feeling like an eternity. By the time Jess picked up, CJ had pulled out of the parking lot. The other end was silent.

“Hey,” said CJ.

“Hey,” said Jess. There was an awkward moment of silence.

“I’m sorry,” said CJ, “I know you’ve been trying to reach out, I just- A lot has happened. I know it’s not an excuse, and I’m sorry I didn’t at least tell you I was alive.”

“I was really worried,” said Jess, sounding slightly exasperated. “I don’t have your aunt’s number, so I couldn’t call to ask what was wrong.”

“I know,” said CJ, “I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to hear me explain things, but I’d really like a chance too.”

“Ya,” said Jess, “Please do, I was so worried for so long.” CJ didn’t know where to start. Jess had known about she and Duff’s relationship, how deeply she had felt about him, and how they were trying to plan how to continue their relationship once the tour ended. Jess was one of the few people who had been aware of it. She was also the only person who had warned her about going all in with the relationship. Jess had always been blunt with her. She didn’t pull any punches. She could hear Jess’ words in her head from when she had first told her about Duff; Just be careful. 80’s rockstars don’t have the best track records with relationships. She had waved away Jess’ concerns at the time, but she had been right. She figured she’d get straight to the point. Jess deserved that after worrying for so long.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. There was shocked silence from the other side. “About 15 weeks pregnant.”

“Holy shit,” said Jess.

“Ya,” said CJ, sounding more nonchalant than she felt, “Crazy right? I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago myself.”

“Wait, what have you been doing? Where are you? In California or Seattle?”

“I’m in Redding,” said CJ. She paused for a moment. “Things did not work out the way I thought they would.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” said Jess, “Whose baby is it?”

“I know you already know,” said CJ, not wanting to say his name out loud. Her emotions were mounting, and she was afraid if she said his name she’d dissolve into tears.

“So, are you keeping it?” asked Jess.

“Yes,” said CJ, “I thought about it. I even went to an appointment to have it aborted. I can’t do it. I want to keep it, even if it means struggling for a bit. I can’t describe it, but I’m already in love.”

“Hold up,” said Jess, “You’re going to have this baby, and you’re not demanding child support? That man is rich as fuck, take him for everything he has. You could be in a mansion tomorrow. That child support would be fucking loaded. You are in a great position here, even if it may not feel that way.”

“I don’t want him to know,” said CJ.

“Why?” asked Jess. “Fuck him, take him for everything. He has more money than he knows what to do with.”

“It’s complicated, there’s a lot to explain,” said CJ, as she pulled into the parking lot of Maxwell’s. “Can I call you back in a minute? I have to run into this restaurant and grab lunch. Mindy is waiting back at the office.”

“Honestly, I think this conversation would be better in person,” said Jess. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing,” said CJ.

“Great,” said Jess. “I’m coming down there tonight.” CJ felt her heart leap in surprise and excitement at the thought of her friend visiting.

“Are you sure? I can come there. I know it’s a six-hour drive,” said CJ.

“No, you stay put,” said Jess, “It’s not a big deal. I have Monday off so I can leave Monday morning. I get off early today, in about an hour. So, I’ll go home and pack and get on the road.”

“That would be amazing!” said CJ. “Just be quiet about it around my aunt, she doesn’t know…. yet.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jess, “I’ll keep quiet.”

When they ended their call, CJ sat for a moment, reflecting and feeling grateful to have such a loyal friend.

When she got back to the office, she found Mindy bent over her desk, reviewing some paperwork. She placed her to-go bag down in front of her.

“Thanks,” said Mindy, not looking up.

“Jess is coming to visit this weekend; she’ll be here tonight.” Mindy looked up in surprise.

“Oh?”

“Ya, I haven’t seen her in awhile, we’ve been texting back and forth a bit.”

“Good, you need to go out and have some fun,” said Mindy.

-

By the time Jess arrived it was 8:30 at night. CJ had dimmed the lights and sat down at the kitchen table after dinner, taking a moment to herself. She could hear the low drone of the television from the living room where Michelle and Mindy sat watching. It was a cold night, and the heat was blasting through the floor vents near where she sat. She shuffled her feet over the grate, enjoying the heat, having always been chronically cold in the winter. The glare of car headlights flashed through the window and washed down the wall, illuminating the room. She stood up, her heart pounding as she saw Jess’ Subaru Outback pull in.

CJ pulled open the front door, ignoring the cold on her skin and bare feet as she hurried out. Jess got up out of the driver’s seat and CJ met her with a tight hug. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice cracked as she spoke.

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too,” said Jess, muffled by CJ’s sweatshirt. They pulled away from each other and Jess looked down at CJ’s cast arm. “What happened with that?”

“It’s part of the whole story,” said CJ, walking over to the trunk of Jess’ car. “Let me get your stuff.” Jess shooed her away and opened the trunk herself.

“No, no lifting for you.” She pulled her duffle bag out and slammed the trunk shut.

When the two girls got inside, CJ got a better look at Jess. She looked the same; a stocky but athletic build, about 5’4”, black and wavy mid-length hair that was up in a messy bun, and bright blue eyes. The only difference was her once green striped hair was now streaked with purple. She was dressed in her usual comfy outfit, a pair of sweatpants, slippers, and a hoodie.

Mindy and Michelle appeared from the living room.

“Hey Jess,” said Mindy, “Good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you guys too,” said Jess, “It’s been a minute.”

“It has,” said Mindy, “How was the drive?”

“Not bad,” said Jess.

“Did you get anything to eat?” asked Michelle, moving towards the fridge.

“Ya, I got a burger on the drive,” said Jess.

“Well, if you need anything feel free to help yourself,” said Michelle. CJ could see Mindy gearing up to ask Jess a million questions. And CJ was eager to catch up with Jess too, but right now she wanted to get her alone. As Mindy started to talk, CJ interjected.

“I was thinking, how about tomorrow night we all go out somewhere to eat and catch up?”

“Oh,” said Mindy, “Ya, that sounds great! You guys think of a place, and we’ll do it.”

“I thought we’d head to bed early and do something in the morning,” said CJ, looking over at Jess, who looked back at her cluelessly. She quickly picked up CJ’s nonverbal hint.

“Oh ya, that sounds great,” said Jess. After saying their goodnights, CJ took Jess’ hand and gently pulled her into the hallway, down towards the bedroom. She quickly shut her bedroom door as Jess put her bag down. She pulled her sweatshirt off, her T-shirt briefly riding up to expose her stomach. She turned to face Jess whose gaze was focused on her midsection.

“You don’t even look pregnant, not even a little bit,” said Jess.

“Ya and I need it to stay that way,” said CJ, “At least until I can get some things figured out.” Jess sat down on CJ’s bed and patted the spot on the bed next to her. CJ sank down onto the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, taking a deep breath.

“So, what the fuck happened,” said Jess.

“I’m not completely sure myself,” said CJ. “He just left. The night after the last show, before we were supposed to go out and talk about me moving in. He just cut things off, didn’t say why, didn’t want to talk about it. It was like night and day.” Jess was looking down at her feet, not saying anything.

“You can say it,” said CJ, “You can say I told you so.”

“No,” said Jess softly, “You’re going through enough.”

“I should’ve listened to you.”

“Well hindsight,” said Jess, “And it’s hard to take a step back and view things objectively when you have strong feelings.”

“That’s why it was so hard the past few months,” said CJ, her voice cracking as she tried to hold it together. “I was so depressed about it I couldn’t get myself to do anything. I didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.” A few tears escaped her eyes, and it quickly turned into an uncontrollable waterfall of sobs. Jess gently snaked an arm around CJ’s shoulders and pulled her close into a hug. CJ tried to be quiet, not wanting Mindy or Michelle to hear her. After a few minutes, she managed to gain control and took a deep breath, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“I tried to go out and do things,” CJ continued. “I went snowboarding but broke my wrist. That’s actually how I found out about being pregnant, when I was in the emergency room. Who knows how long it would’ve taken me to figure it out if I hadn’t.”

“Did you not get your period?”

“I wasn’t really thinking about it,” said CJ, “It’s gone away from stress before, so I thought that was it.”

“And you’re definitely keeping it?” asked Jess.

“Yes,” said CJ. “I know it sounds weird, especially since there’s not really anything to see, on the outside at least, but I’m already in love.” She placed a hand on her still flat stomach. “Maybe it’s the hormones talking.”

“Just don’t let the hormones talk you out of getting child support,” said Jess.

“I don’t want his money,” said CJ, “He wouldn’t want this baby anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t owed support, CJ. He made the decision to lay down just the same as you, so fuck him. Your kid deserves the same support as his other kids,” said Jess.

“You know what he told me.” said CJ with a laugh of disgust. “He told me he got a vasectomy right after his last daughter was born. That’s why I wasn’t worried about it. I thought I was being careful, but now I think he lied.” CJ paused thoughtfully for a moment longer. “I don’t know, maybe I didn’t fit in with his lifestyle. He didn’t seem like the type to care about that kind of thing. But he was always surrounded by such glamorous places and people, glamorous women. And who am I compared to all that?”

“Well either way, he should be giving you a monthly payment,” said Jess, “Doesn’t matter who you are or where you are from.”

“I don’t need him,” said CJ, “I can do this on my own.”

“When are you going to tell your aunt?” asked Jess.

“I need to find a place to live first,” said CJ, “I want to have my own place and support myself.”

“You don’t think she’ll let you stay?” asked Jess.

“I know she would,” said CJ, “and I know she’ll love any children that I have, but it’s not fair of me to bring an infant here. She did her part when she raised me. She didn’t have to do that either, but she did.”

-

June 1989

Los Angeles General Medical Center / Los Angeles, CA

Mindy did not think she’d ever see the inside of the maternity wing at a hospital, never mind be present for a birth. But there she was, standing at her sister’s head, letting her grip her hand tightly as she pushed her niece into the world.

The last nine months had been a whirlwind. Heather had gone into rehab quietly and stayed put, which had surprised Mindy. Things went smoothly for the first few months and Heather told Mindy she was working on getting the adoption process rolling.

Then, one day, Mindy received a call from a pissed off Heather. She remembered the first words Heather had said to her before she could even say hello. Can you believe they don’t give you money for putting your kid up for adoption? Mindy could only laugh at her sister’s selfishness and told her that of course they don’t pay you, that would be trafficking. Her initial suspicions were correct about her sister’s motivations being monetary.

Heather had gone on to rant some more about the fact it was too late for her to terminate, and then declared that she’d be keeping the baby. Mindy went from being amused to horrified. She then spent the next 30 minutes trying to convince Heather to go through with the adoption process, but to no avail. She remembered asking Heather, why keep it if you don’t want it? Her response had been, Tax breaks, benefits. Mindy had pleaded, telling her that was no reason to have a baby. She didn’t even have a job to get tax breaks on. But Heather wouldn’t listen.

On a positive note, Heather had gotten clean, stuck to plan, and the pregnancy had progressed typically with no health issues. CPS had been alerted but since she was actively in rehab and had tested clean for the past several months, there were no plans in place to remove the baby. With that, Mindy had been scrambling to get her own shit together. The idea of living with her sister long term was highly irritating. But she couldn’t put her out with a new baby, and she honestly didn’t trust Heather to care for the baby properly alone, especially if her only attachment to it was based on money. She didn’t know if Heather could stay clean. It felt unrealistic to hope for, but if Mindy let her stay and pushed her to get a job and a place of her own, maybe this would be what completely and permanently turned Heather around. She wasn’t hopeful and in the back of her mind she was contemplating back-up plans. She had never planned on being a mother or having a baby. But if she had to, she’d take Heather’s child in. She couldn’t see her niece or nephew go to foster care, no matter how inconvenient or derailing it was for her life.

Mindy had set up a crib and bought all the basic things she would need, preparing for the birth and for Heather to leave rehab and bring the baby home to the apartment. It had cost her a chunk of her savings and she had to remind herself it was for the baby, not for Heather.

Laying in the bed, Heather gripped Mindy’s hand painfully tight and let out a loud yell as she gave one last push. A moment later a sharp cry pierced the air. Time seemed to move slowly as the nurse held the baby and Mindy got a clear look at it.

“It’s a girl,” said the nurse. The baby was chunky and healthy looking, with a thick head of dark brown hair, and a good set of lungs on her as she loudly cried. They moved to clean her off and examine her. Mindy looked at Heather who was sitting there, still trying to catch her breath and looking exhausted.

“You did so good!” said Mindy with excitement. Heather didn’t respond or react to Mindy and just put her head back against the pillow. A moment later, the nurse carried the baby over to them and gently placed her on Heather’s chest. “She’s so beautiful Heather, look at her!”

Heather looked down at the baby, her face expressionless. Instead of holding her closer, she picked her up and held her out to Mindy wordlessly.

“You’re not going to hold her?” asked Mindy confused.

“No,” said Heather. After handing the baby over, she turned away from them. Mindy felt a deep sadness as the baby began to cry louder. A nurse, having seen the entire interaction came over and quietly offered Mindy a bottle of formula.

“If you want to sit here,” she said, gesturing to a cushioned armchair, “and do skin to skin.” Mindy handed the baby back to the nurse while she removed her shirt. The nurse laid the baby on Mindy’s chest and then covered them with a light blanket. Finally, the baby had stopped crying, her dark eyes cracked open and looking up at Mindy. She lightly ran a hand over the baby’s thick head of hair.

“Hey sweet girl,” she said softly to the baby, “Everything is going to be ok. I promise.” Mindy looked back over at Heather, who was still turned away.

-

May 2017

Somewhere over Spain

The feeling of being unsettled had permeated Duff’s day. The morning had gone as usual, other than the groupie leaving his room at 5:30 A.M., prior to there being a risk of anyone else being awake to see her go. He had seen the same woman in the lobby of the hotel just before leaving to drive to the airport. With sexual release came the buildup of his internal emotional tension. The post-hook up crash had him in his head. Being the intuitive and empathetic person that she had revealed herself to be, CJ had picked up on it immediately and asked him if he was ok or needed anything. He had told her he was fine, just tired.

She sat next to him on the plane, focused on updating his social media accounts with pictures and videos from the show the night before. She had been quieter than he was used to her being and he thought maybe he should be the one asking her if everything was ok.

The flight attendant came around with snacks and he wordlessly slid her over a bag of chips. She glanced at it and said a quick thanks before continuing with what she was doing on the computer.

“Hey, you good kiddo?”

“Hm?” she said, looking up.

“You’re just kind of quiet,” he said.

“Oh ya, sorry,” she said absent-mindedly, turning back to her work.

“Hey,” he said, slightly amused at her reaction. “You don’t need to apologize; I was wondering if anything is wrong.” She met his gaze, looking like she had something to say.

“I just don’t like what happened last night,” she said. Duff felt a rush of panic. How did she know. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.” His panic immediately subsided when he realized she was talking about their conversation in the SUV, on the way back from the show.

“Oh,” he said, his relief making him slightly dismissive, “I forgot about that.” His statement made her frown deepen.

“Well, I haven’t,” she said, “I feel awful.”

“Relax,” he said, opening his bag of chips. “Like I said, you couldn’t have known. I’m not worried about it. You’re over worrying.” She didn’t say anything more to him but continued to look concerned as he stuffed a few chips in his mouth.

“Maybe you’re under-worrying,” she said, giving him sass. He laughed at her attitude and decided to change the subject.

“Sick of airplanes yet?” he asked. “Cause if you aren’t yet, you will be soon.”

“No, not yet,” said CJ.

“When we get to the North America leg in July, we use tour buses a lot more to get around, unless we’re going from one side of the country to the other. You might like that more. Sometimes we leave right after a show and drive overnight to the next city.”

“I’d be with you for that? Or on a different bus?” she asked.

“Ya, of course,” he said. As the words left his mouth, he realized he hadn’t put much thought into the subject. His previous assistant had traveled with him on the same bus. But it had been different, since his previous assistant had been a man. He had never dealt with having to travel with a female assistant. There were three beds on his bus, one in the master bedroom, which he slept in, one pullout couch, and one over cab loft bed. Despite it being a large luxury RV, he didn’t know if it would be appropriate to share such a close space with her. He didn’t know if he could share such a close space with her. The thought of it made his head spin. He couldn’t think about it now, he had over a month to think about it. He could make decisions later.  

-

Upon landing in Lisbon, CJ received a barrage of texts, her phone pinging several times rapidly. They were all texts from Jess.

Where are you!?!?

What band is that!?

How are you on stage!?

Smiling to herself, she typed back.

This is my summer job, and maybe for longer than that.

A moment later her phone began to ring. They were still taxiing on the tarmac and CJ rejected the call and texted.

Hold on, about to head to the hotel, I’ll call in 30.

Jess quickly responded.

Ugggghhh you’re such a tease.

-

Duff and Mark made plans to meet for lunch after they had settled everything in their hotel rooms. It would be good to catch up a bit during a time when they weren’t backstage and preparing for a show. They planned to walk over together, but Mark got caught up with some business-related matters, and told Duff to go on ahead and get a table. Duff sat on the second-floor balcony of a little café they had chosen on the water. It was a quiet afternoon with only a few other patrons. The weather was breezy and warm, solidifying the relaxed and laidback atmosphere of the place.

When Mark arrived 15 minutes later, he had a look of discomfort on his face. He oddly sat down without saying anything.

“What?” said Duff.

“Have you been online lately?” asked Mark.

“No? not really,” said Duff. “Not since this morning.” Mark pulled out his phone and unlocked it and slid it across the table face up. Duff looked at it and was briefly confused at what he was seeing. It was a Twitter post, posted only an hour ago by what looked like a GNR fan account. It was a picture of him and CJ. It appeared to be from last night’s show, right before GNR had taken the stage. It was taken from somewhere down in the pit. It was a blurry shot of the moment he had bent down from behind the stage riser to hear CJ’s comment about Mark’s performance. CJ was slightly leaning over the back of her chair, her head tilted back. It made her cleavage in the red top she had been wearing look nearly pornographic. His face was turned inward to her ear so he could speak closely enough for her to hear him over the music. But the way that the picture was angled made it look as if he had his face buried in her neck and she was enjoying it and leaning back into it. The caption was short and read: ‘Duff’s new gf?’

-

By the time CJ got to her hotel room and was able to take her phone back out Jess had figured it out. A text from 20 minutes ago read,

It’s Guns N’ Roses, isn’t it.

The phone only rang once before Jess picked up.

“What the hell Thompson,” said Jess, “How are you backstage at a Guns N’ Roses concert and I’m not there!?”

“I can get you tickets,” said CJ, “Pick a date, any date, anywhere.”

“Did your aunt reconnect with Axl Rose?” Jess knew Mindy had been old friends with Axl. It had been brought up a few times during their time in college.

“Apparently they never disconnected,” said CJ, “He offered me a job as a personal assistant on their current tour.”

“You’re Axl Rose’s personal assistant!?” exclaimed Jess loudly.

“No,” said CJ, “I’m Duff McKagan’s personal assistant.”

“The bass player?” asked Jess.

“Ya, that’s the one,” said CJ, walking over the hotel window and looking out over the city.

“You have got to get me tickets!!” said Jess, “Where are you now?”

“Europe until mid-July,” said CJ, “Then we start in the U.S.”

“I’m pulling up the dates now,” said Jess. CJ glanced at the clock on the wall to see that it was 11:00 A.M. She counted the hours in her head.

“Wait a minute, what time is it there? Isn’t it like 3 in the morning?” asked CJ.

“It is,” said Jess, “I was headed to bed, but now I’m too excited to sleep.”

“Well go to bed,” said CJ, with a laugh. “I can get you tickets any time, pick a date and just let me know. I can probably get you backstage with me too.” There was a knock on her door, which distracted her away from Jess’ excitement.

“Hey, I gotta go,” said CJ, “I’ll text you; someone is at my door.”

“You’re killing me,” said Jess, “TEXT ME!”

“I will!” said CJ.

She ended the call and quickly made her way to the door, expecting it to be Duff. Instead, Tate was standing there.

“Hey,” he said, “You busy?” She was caught off guard by his presence.

“Oh, no, not at the moment.”

“There’s a gelato stand just outside the hotel. I was headed down to get some and then grab lunch with some of the others if you’re interested?” CJ had nothing else planned for the afternoon. Maybe the gym in the evening, right before dinner. But it wouldn’t hurt to get some fresh air for a bit. It also wouldn’t hurt to be social and maybe try to make some friends with the people she’d be alongside for the next several months and possibly more.

“Sure,” she said, stepping out and shutting the door behind her.

[tommymllrr]

coffee shop cowboy [ch. 2]

agent whiskey x barista!reader (coffee shop!au)

summary: if you were being honest, you’d had an absolute garbage day. up until the moment he strode through the front door of the cute little café that you worked at in those stupid cowboy boots.

rating: Explicit, 18+ (MINORS DNI)

word count: 6.1k

warnings: cunnilingus, oral sex, blowjob, vaginal fingering, soft!agent whiskey, lot of kisses

notes: here's chapter 2!! reader is afab, but no pronouns or gendered terms are used so it can be read as gender-neutral. also i'm not super active here so find me on twitter if you're interested in seeing me talk about my upcoming fanfics and talk about pedro pascal and oscar isaac. :-)

chapter 1 on tumblr // read fic on ao3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The months went on and Whiskey showed no sign that he had gotten sick of the coffee shop - or more specifically, you - yet. 

Sure, there had been a few times where he’d gone almost a full week without visiting, but he always turned up one day with a smile and a more-than-generous tip. The two of you made light conversation while you worked the register or, during days you were behind the bar making drinks, after he’d gotten his coffee, leaning an arm on the bar so he could talk to you. Your co-workers, especially the ones you were actually friends with, teased you incredibly hard for it, always leaving your cheeks burning in embarrassment. One of the newest hires at the café, a very sweet girl named Angie, had asked during a slow morning shift how you and your boyfriend met. When met with your confusion, she’d simply replied, “That cute cowboy guy I’ve seen you with. He’s your boyfriend, right?” Your entire body was on fire as you told her that no , you were just friends , and then had spent a good five minutes in the walk-in cooler pretending to stock items while you recovered.

You had thought about making a move by asking if he’d like to get coffee from your favorite place that’s just outside of the city (you refuse to be one of those people who comes into their job to order something on their day off), but the one time you’d tried to ask him, he’d looked at you with those big, gorgeous brown eyes of his and you’d chickened out, instead sputtering something about how the weather outside was nice today. You’d called your best friend on Discord that night feeling absolutely miserable and they’d teased you gently, but reassured you it was okay and that the universe had its way of sorting everything out.

You had no idea how right they would be.

It was unusually busy for a random Thursday morning, but you were managing just fine (even if you were dragging a bit because you’d stayed up way too late last night starting to play The Last of Us now that the TV adaptation of it was coming out soon). And, because your luck happens to be absolutely terrible sometimes, a steady line of customers at the register had started in the minutes before Whiskey strolled in. You gave him a small smile and a wave while the customer in front of you finished paying for their coffee and he tipped his hat to you in response. After getting through the few customers ahead of him, Whiskey was in front of your register, grinning down at you. He had already reached into the pocket of the leather jacket he was wearing to grab his wallet.

“You know what, sugar,” Whiskey said. “I’m feelin’ like a latte today. Can ya make me that one ya always get for me?”

“Yeah, I can do that!” You looked to the people in line behind him and the smile slid off your face. “Actually… I know I always make it, but it’s busier than usual today and I don’t wanna throw off Aubrey by stepping in just to make one drink,” you said apologetically.

“Darlin’, it’s fine. Just promise you’ll be the one to make it for me next time.” He gave you a wink as he handed you a twenty to pay for his latte. Warmth spread through your whole body and you were grinning so big you knew you probably looked like an idiot to the half-dozen people who were behind your favorite customer. Whiskey stuffed the handful of bills you’d given him as his change into the tip-jar and shuffled out of the way. The customer behind Whiskey rattled off a couple of pastries he wanted and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Whiskey talking to Aubrey at the bar. You don’t know why you suddenly felt anxious, but you did. Aubrey knew all about your crush with Whiskey – hell, she was the person teasing you the most about him – but you trusted her to keep your secret.

You put the two’s interaction out of your mind and went back to focusing on helping the people in front of you. While pouring a cup of coffee for a stern-looking businesswoman, you turned and saw Aubrey finally hand Whiskey his latte. Whiskey was about to walk away but you saw Aubrey lean in and say something, but you couldn’t make it out. He looked down at the cup and you watched as a slow smirk slid onto his face. Whiskey nodded his head toward your co-worker and he made his way out of the coffee shop.

The businesswoman you were pouring the coffee for snapped at you for taking too long and, immediately, you were brought back to what you were doing. You snapped the lid on her drink and apologized profusely while you cashed her out. 

A couple hours later, when it had finally died down enough that you weren’t swamped with people, you sauntered over to Aubrey, who was drinking her usual iced vanilla matcha latte and scrolling through Instagram.

“Hey, uh, what was that whole thing with Whiskey earlier?” you asked. Her eyes flicked up from her phone to yours before shooting back down to stare at her screen. You knew her. And right now, she was desperately trying not to look suspicious.

“Oh, nothing,” she said, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “May wanna check your phone though.”

You pulled your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans and clicked the button on the side to turn on your screen. A couple notifications from Twitter, a handful of new emails, an alert that your favorite podcast had posted a new episode… 

And a text message from an unknown number. 

You felt your heart stop as you hurriedly typed in your passcode to unlock your phone. There was no way. You were imagining this. Or today was all just one weird, very realistic dream and your alarm was going to go off any minute now. Opening the Messages app, you clicked on the message.

Today, 10:37AM Hey there sugar ;) Finally got your number.

Your pulse quickened. There was no mistaking whose number that was. There was no way. Unless this was some absolutely insane prank that Aubrey was currently pulling off with the help of your coworkers. But you didn’t think your coworkers were that cruel. So the only thing you were left with was that…

“Aubrey, you fucking did not give him my phone number ,” you hissed. She gave you a shit-eating grin and took a big sip from her matcha latte, slurping it way louder than necessary.

“Wrote your number on his cup. You can thank me later.”

Your eyes widened. “ Aubrey ."

“What?!” she said with mock offense. “Look, I know you’re too embarrassed about your little crush to actually do something yourself. If you get a date out of this, you owe me lunch for a week, bestie.” You groaned and covered your face with your hands. Honestly, with how chaotic Aubrey is, you shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that this happened. But that doesn’t mean you were prepared for this to happen.

You decided to wait until after work to text Whiskey back, but the rest of your shift had been a blur. Even an inkling of an idea of what to say eluded you, even as you were walking through the door to your apartment. Pulling out your phone, you opened the Messages app and stared down at the two lines Whiskey had sent. You eventually just said “fuck it” and typed out a quick text.

Today, 3:43PM god i am so sorry for aubrey if you dont wanna message its totally cool i mean we barely know each other  and my coworker thought it’d funny to give you my number just don't wanna make things weird between us

You flopped back onto your bed and covered your face with your hands for the second time that day, wishing you could sink down into the earth. God, why were you cursed with being so fucking awkward?

Right as you were wishing you could go back in time and say literally anything else to come off as more smooth, your phone pinged with the notification sound of a new text. With slightly shaky hands, you unlocked your phone and stared at the message Whiskey had just sent you.

Today, 3:46PM Darlin, I’ve been wantin’ to get to know you more for a while now. You’re real sweet and funny. Comin’ to get coffee is the highlight of my week.

You stared at your phone, your eyes wide open. Holy shit. Before you even knew what you were doing, you started screaming into your pillow so as to not scare or disturb your neighbors. Your entire body was burning with warmth as you typed out a reply to him. 

Today, 3:54PM oh! im really flattered honestly i’ve wanted to talk more too just been too anxious to say anything

You stared at the screen for what felt like forever until you saw the three little dots inside of the bubble that told you Whiskey was in the process of typing something back. Your heart raced with what he could possibly say. Then, your phone pinged with a new message notification. His response was here.

Today, 3:58PM Oh, really now? Well, if you’d be interested, sugar, I’d like to invite you over for dinner. Could show you a good time. ;)

“Oh my god,” you breathed. You hurriedly typed out a response, too excited to speak, your heartbeat and your mind racing.

Today, 4:04PM consider myself very interested! give me a time and date and i’ll be there, cowboy ;)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You may have taken one or two wrong turns and gotten stuck in traffic along the way, but you finally made it to the address Whiskey had given you. 

The date he’d given you to come over for dinner was a few days away from when he had asked you and you couldn’t have been less anxious about it if you tried. Shifts at work seemed to go by even slower than usual and Aubrey could sense something was up when you worked with her the morning after your text conversation. You didn’t dare breathe a word about it to her, though, you didn’t wanna give her a big head about the whole thing. No, she could wait to find out until after your dinner with Whiskey, even though you have her to thank for this whole situation anyway. (Also, you definitely didn’t need her on your ass about buying her lunch for a week yet.)

As you drove down the path that your GPS was telling you to follow, you realized his house must be at the very end of the street he lived on. A few more minutes passed before your phone said you had arrived at your destination. Despite the map saying you should technically be in his front yard, you could barely see Whiskey’s house from behind a massive wrought-iron gate. A little silver box on a pole was sticking out of the side of the road, so you pulled up and pressed the small black button on the device.

“Hey, darlin’, that you?” you suddenly heard Whiskey’s voice ask. The buzzer must have a speaker in it somewhere. His voice was a little crackly, but you still could tell it was definitely Whiskey.

“Yeah! I’m outside the gate,” you called back. A loud buzzing sound came from the box and, suddenly, the large iron gate in front of you opened so you could drive through. Following the long gravel driveway, you finally made it up to Whiskey’s house.

And your breath was instantly taken away the moment you saw it up close. 

It was an absolutely gorgeous ranch-style home, one that you definitely would have seen on one of those TV shows about people showing off their fancy houses and the thousands of dollars they had poured into making their house look as fancy as possible to impress other fancy people. Whiskey’s car, a gorgeous classic Bronco that was black with white trim, was parked just up the driveway, so you pulled in a few feet behind him. Right as you were getting out of your car, you heard the front door open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he called out. He was leaning up against the doorframe, a glass of amber liquid in his hand and a wide grin on his face. He was wearing his usual blue jeans and cowboy boots, but he had swapped his usual leather jacket for one that was made from dark blue denim and had a bit of a high collar. “Glad you found the place okay. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“I got a bit turned around a few times but I made it. Did have some reservations about you leading me out to the middle of nowhere, though,” you teased. Whiskey let out a chuckle as you approached him.

“Sugar, this is probably one of the safest places you could ever be,” he said with a smirk. “But I’m delighted that you’re here.” You felt yourself start blushing as Whiskey stepped aside to let you in. He closed the door behind you and, as you took in the living room around you, Whiskey fiddled with a security system panel on his wall.

The interior of the house was exactly what you had expected from Whiskey, if you were being honest. Brown leather couches and armchairs were circled around a massive stone fireplace in the living room. A large wooden coffee table, one that looked like it could have been handmade, was in the center of the room and on top of a Western-looking rug. The walls were also covered with paintings, one of a river in a forest with a mountain range in the background and one that you immediately recognized as the exterior of the Statesman Distillery. You could also catch a whiff of the delicious smell of roasting meat somewhere towards the back of the house. 

Whiskey muttered something about needing to check something and walked off, leaving you by yourself. You were a little hesitant at first, not wanting to look creepy or trying to pry, but you couldn’t help but look around.

As you looked around to take everything in, your eyes landed on a wall-mounted glass display case. 

Inside was what looked to be a whip with a loop at the end that had been tied to make a noose. When you stepped a bit closer to inspect it, you could have sworn you saw a flash of blue light somehow. You were staring at it when Whiskey cleared his throat behind you. You whipped around to face the older man and you instinctively took a couple steps backward as if you’d somehow been caught red-handed.

“That ol’ thing caught yer eye, sugar?” Whiskey said. His voice was quieter than usual, softer. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and came over to where you were standing. And all you could do was just look at his face. He had this look that you couldn’t quite decipher what it was supposed to mean as he stared at the whip. But if his stare was a laser, he would have cut through the glass and the wall behind it by now with how intently he was looking ahead of him.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why the hell do you have a whip in a display case? Not that you can’t do what you’d like with your design choice, but it’s… certainly interesting.” You tried to sound light-hearted, attempting to diffuse this situation you didn’t know you had entered into, but Whiskey sighed deeply. 

“Don’t even know why I put this up. Hate looking at it most days,” he muttered. Suddenly, his head snapped to look at you, as if realizing he’d just said that out loud. He spun on his heel and walked back toward the kitchen. “Well, dinner’s almost ready, so you can head on in here. Got everythin’ all set up for tonight.”

You watched him turn the corner and head down the hall, frozen in place until you realized you should follow him. You quickly followed after him and you were suddenly in the biggest kitchen you’d ever been inside of. There was a giant kitchen island in the middle of the room with a built-in sink and a dark marble countertop. You could see two steaks cooking in an iron skillet on the stove to your left and Whiskey was in the process of pulling what looked to be some roasted vegetables in a pan out of the oven.

“Everything smells amazing, Whiskey,” you complimented as you took a seat on one of the barstools that was at the kitchen island. “Didn’t realize you were hiding a knack for cooking from me.”

Whiskey let out a loud laugh. “Oh, darlin’, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I can’t cook worth a lick,” he replied. “Favorite steakhouse on the other side of the county helped me out. The owner’s real friendly and was willin’ to sell me a steak dinner for two that I could finish in my own kitchen. Will have to take you there sometime.” He tossed a wink your way while he fiddled with the stove and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

After a few more minutes, Whiskey announced the food was ready and he escorted you into the dining room where a table big enough for the two of you to sit at and intimately enjoy dinner was set up. The meal Whiskey had got for the two of you was absolutely delicious and your mouth was already watering at the prospect of being able to eat it again, but this time in the actual restaurant itself. The two of you talked about your day at work and Whiskey even told you a couple stories from his days as a bartender. He had you laughing so hard your sides hurt at the time he had a guy who tried to pay for his tab with his prized chicken.

Whiskey brought out a plate that contained a massive slice of triple chocolate cake for dessert and, despite you insisting you couldn’t eat another bite, you dug your fork into the giant confection and almost moaned at how rich and amazing it tasted. About halfway through the cake slice, you leaned back in your chair to look Whiskey in his eyes.

“Whiskey, this was incredible, thank you so much for having me over,” you said with a smile. The older man smiled back and gently reached out to hold your hand in his. He hesitated for a second, as if he was worried that you didn’t want the touch, but when you scooted your hand a little closer, he laced his fingers with yours. It was the first time he’d touched you all evening and it made the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“Real glad you decided to take a chance on an old guy like me,” he replied. “I… I’d been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Was worried how it’d look, what you’d think of me.” 

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling emboldened by his confession. “I, uh, actually thought about asking you to come to my favorite coffee shop with me. The place I go to when I want coffee on my days off,” you said bashfully. “But I… I chickened out at the last minute.”

“Darlin’, I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Whiskey stated. “Say the word and I’m there.” If you weren’t currently holding hands with him, you felt like you might collapse right then and there. He would have taken you out with his words alone.

“O-Oh.” That was all you managed to get out. You were sure he could see how hard you were blushing. Whiskey let go of your hand and made his way into the kitchen with your plates from dinner. You stood and followed after him.

You watched as Whiskey set the plates in the sink before he turned back to you and walked over to where you were standing in the middle of his kitchen. His large hands settled on your hips, making your heart beat faster. Whiskey’s lips connected with yours in a passionate kiss.

The scratch of the stubble of his chin felt rough against your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. After months, you were finally kissing the man you’d been pining after for so long. Whiskey let out a soft noise as your hands came to rest on his chest, bunching the fabric of his jean jacket in your hands.

“God, baby, you’re incredible, so gorgeous,” Whiskey groaned after pulling back from your kiss. When his mouth returned to yours, his tongue licked into your mouth and it felt so good, it was threatening to make your head spin. In between kisses that had you desperately needing more as soon as possible, he started to guide you towards the back of his house. Whiskey opened a door and you both entered the main bedroom of the property. It was a massive room with an extra-large bed and a door off to the side that was open just wide enough for you to see that it was the primary bathroom. 

The older man pulled back from your intense make-out session to look at you. His large hands were settled on your waist, rubbing the material of your shirt softly. “Please, sugar, tell me you want this as much as I do,” Whiskey said through slightly-grit teeth. “You’ve been runnin’ ‘round my head for weeks an’... I’ve been a patient man, but you bein’ here in my house is doin’ somethin’ wicked to me.”

“I do, I really do, Whiskey,” you replied with a grin. “I want you.” You leaned in to kiss him again, but his eyes drifted downward as he opened his mouth and it made you stop your advance.

“It’s… It’s Jack,” he muttered, turning his face away, suddenly interested in the carpet floor of his bedroom. It took you a couple seconds for your brain to process what he said. You gently cupped his face in your palms, the stubble on his jaw tickling your skin, but the touch made him look back at you. You met his eyes and you could see a little anxiousness hidden behind them.

“Jack…” you repeated. A wide grin broke out on your face as you breathed out his name again. “Jack.” His name fell from your lips and the man in front of you immediately softened. You watched the nervous expression, the tension of letting you know his name, not the moniker he was given during his time with Statesman, bleed out of his body. 

You pressed a kiss to his lips before you pulled back to look up at him. “Jack. Want you to fuck me. Been dreaming about it for so long now… Please .”

As if you’d flipped a switch inside of him, Whiskey – no, Jack – picked you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist. You let out a little squeak before you were gently laid down onto the bed and now, Jack was on top of you, kissing you like his life depended on it. He licked into your mouth again and you moaned against him. Jack’s hips grinded down against your clothed core. God, you could feel he was rock-hard under his jeans and you were dying to rip them off of him. You’d thought about this situation before, sure, but nothing from your wet dreams and fantasies could compare to how hot it was to actually be in the moment.

Suddenly, Jack was pulling away from you and stripping off his clothes, you following suit and pulling off your outfit only to toss it all across the room. You were a little self-conscious about his response to seeing you naked, but watching his eyes grow wider and his cock twitch the smallest bit made you feel invincible.

“Absolutely breath-taking, darlin’,” he murmured. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your chest. “Scoot up the bed more fer me, baby, wanna eat you like you’re the last meal I’ll ever have.” You burned at his words and you could only nod dumbly and pull yourself back toward the headboard. After getting settled, Jack pressed soft kisses up your thighs until he had reached where you both wanted him to be the most. He started off with teasing licks that made you feel like you were going to explode right then and there. His tongue gently flicked over your clit and you responded by fisting your hands tightly in the bedsheets, eyes squeezed shut as soft noises fell from your lips that you couldn’t back any longer

“Please, Jack,” you whined. “More. I need more.” You weren’t a stranger to sex, but the very limited encounters with your past partners were currently being blown out of the water. No one had ever made you feel like this before, so close to cumming in practically a minute flat.

“As you wish, sugar,” you heard him say with a chuckle. A kiss was pressed to the skin of your thigh before, true to his word, Jack ate you like a man starved. He licked long stripes up your pussy before digging into your clit with his mouth and his tongue that had you seeing stars. You looked down at Jack and you swore you got closer to orgasm just by seeing how his eyes were closed and his big hands were pushing your legs further apart so you couldn’t clamp down on his head.

“F-Fuck, gonna cum, fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, head tilting up to the ceiling. You felt one of his hands disappear from its spot on your leg and then you felt a thick finger slip inside of you. The whine you let out was long and high-pitched and the instant a second finger was inserted to curl and prod at your g-spot, you came, cursing loudly and crying his name.

Before your brain could even think of something to say or a way to articulate how amazing that was, Whiskey was kissing you again. The taste of yourself on your lips was so incredibly hot.

“Never tasted anything so good in my life, sweet thing,” Jack said. He leaned down to lap at one of your nipples as he tweaked the other gently in between his fingers, making the stiff bud harden even more than it already was, and all you could do was lay there and whine Jack's name at the attention. You really thought he was trying to kill you with how much worship he was giving your body. He pulled off of you to press a kiss to where your heart would be before he looked back into your eyes.

“Now, gorgeous, we can go as far as you feel comfortable,” he said. “If you don’ wanna do anything else tonight, that’s okay with me. Ya can get me off or I can go take care of myself if you’d like, I just wanted to make you feel good.” You felt the butterflies in your stomach kick into overdrive again. Honestly, you really wanted Jack to fuck you, but you were still somewhat reeling from how hard he’d just made you cum with only his mouth and his fingers (that and you were more than a bit anxious about going all the way with him yet). But there was one thing you’d fantasized about several times…

“I… Ireallywannasuckyourdick,” you spat out. After saying it, you covered your face with your hands. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that. You heard Jack chuckle before you felt him gently take your hands and move them away from your face.

“Baby, I’d love nothin’ more,” he assured you. He leaned back and bared himself to you. For a moment, you could only stare at his cock and try not to drool at how hot he looked like this. His cock was hard and curled up toward his stomach with pre-come was spilling out of it slowly, dripping onto his torso. You settled yourself between his legs and licked an exploratory stripe up the vein running down his cock. Jack let out a loud groan and it only egged you on further. You took the tip into his mouth and lapped at the beads of pre-come that had spilled out. The salty taste of him was heavenly and, despite your earlier assumption that you might not be able to cum again soon, you felt ready to go all over again.

When you finally bobbed your head down, you thought Jack couldn’t moan any louder. You managed to fit all of him inside of your warm, wet mouth, the curly brown hairs at the base of his cock tickling you a little. You stayed down for a couple more seconds before it got to be too much and you had to pull off to cough slightly.

“Fuck, sugar, look so good with your mouth so full of my cock like that,” he groaned. Jack threaded his fingers in your hair and gently nudged you back toward his cock. “Gonna burn that image into my brain.” His words had you needing to reach down to gently touch yourself and you did so as you started to move your mouth up and down his cock again.

“S-Shit,” Jack hissed. You set a steady pace, fast enough to keep up with your need to finger yourself while you sucked Jack off, and it felt like all too soon, Whiskey was tugging on your hair just enough to make your body tingle in pleasure. “G-Gonna cum, sweet thing, make sure you take it all, so wonderful, that’s it, my good darlin’ .”

And that was all it took. His praise was what sent you over the edge.

You found yourself clenching around nothing as your finger frantically rubbed circles on your clit, humming around Jack’s cock as you came. Jack pushed your mouth down the smallest bit to fully sheath himself in your mouth and then you felt the hot burst of cum splash onto your tongue and down your throat. His fingers released their grip on your hair and you pulled off, swallowing as you did so. Jack gave you a wicked smirk at seeing you swallow his cum, but in an instant, he was cupping your face in his hands and making you look at him.

“I am so sorry I forced your head down like that, sugar,” he apologized. “Did I hurt you? I-I didn’t mean to, I swear, it’s just…” You cut him off before he could say anything else.

“It’s alright, Jack, I enjoyed it,” you replied. Your voice was the slightest bit hoarse, but you couldn’t care less. That was the single hottest thing you’d ever experienced in your life.

Whiskey gave you a kiss to your forehead before he got up off the bed, stretching a little as he did so, and walked into the bathroom. You let out a deep, contented sigh as you flopped down and buried your face into the soft pillow behind you. You felt like if you tried to get out of bed at the moment, you couldn’t. Your entire body felt exhausted, well-fucked, still drunk off of Whiskey’s cock that had been in your mouth mere minutes ago.

“Sweetheart, c’mon, move a li’l bit fer me,” he muttered. His Southern accent seemed even more pronounced than usual, which you thought was cute. “Gotta clean you up. Make sure my sugar’s taken care of.” You shifted from your current position to make it easier for Whiskey to wipe you down. The warm washcloth felt nice on your skin, getting the stickiness of your sweat off of you. Whiskey also pressed the cloth between your legs for a brief second and you felt your body get a small burst of warmth. Honestly, you were so worn out, you didn’t think you could be ready for another round if you tried, but that didn’t stop your body from trying.

Whiskey sat the washcloth down on the nightstand next to the bed and laid down, tugging you into his arms gently. You snuggled into him and you felt like you could fall asleep just like this. However, you did have one question for him.

“So… your name is Jack?” you asked after a few minutes of silence into the skin of his broad chest. Whiskey pulled his head back from where it had nestled on the top of your head to look at you with a smirk on his face.

“Would ya believe me if I told you my name was Jack Daniels?” he shot back. A loud laugh bubbled out of your lips. 

“Absolutely not ,” you laughed. Whiskey shared a laugh with you before he leaned in and gave you a long kiss to your lips. Your hand drifted up the soft skin of his back – the soft skin you had probably just scratched up even with your blunt fingernails – and threaded in the hair on the nape of his neck. Kissing Whiskey in this moment was tender and affectionate and you would give anything to stay like this forever. Curled up in his arms, you felt like you could take on anything.

“Well, it’s not the name I was given when I was born,” he started after he pulled back. His voice was low now, like he was sharing a secret. “Changed my name to it when I was a younger man. So, legally speaking, I’m Jack Daniels.” You blinked at him a couple of times.

“You changed your name?” you questioned. “How come?” Your fingers were still running through the hair on the back of his neck and at the question, you felt him tense up a little. Worried, you’d pried too much – despite currently being naked in his bed – you started to do damage control. Your fingers stilled and tightened, probably almost tugging at his hair. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Before you could babble anything else, Jack pressed another kiss to your lips but it was short and chaste. It had you melting all over again. “Darlin’, it’s alright,” he soothed. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Gonna tell you everything one day. All ‘bout my past. You’re real special to me an’ you deserve to hear it from me before someone from back then finds out about you an’ tries to tell you.” His hot breath ghosted across your skin as he spoke to you, making your body shiver. 

You weren’t exactly sure what he meant, however. But you realized very quickly into your friendship that Whiskey never really spoke about his life, preferring to change topics over actually giving you an answer to something. You had a couple snippets of comments he’d let slip while in conversation at the café, but it wasn’t much. He’d mentioned that he used to work for Statesman Distillery (then again, his belt buckle had practically given that away the day you met), still had connections to them now that he was “retired”, and occasionally did work for them. He’d also mentioned once that, at one point, he was married a long time ago but he was divorced (you’ll never forget the way he looked incredibly uncomfortable when you’d asked about it before you changed the subject, something Whiskey had been thankful for). Sure, you knew about his hobbies and his favorite movie and other things of that nature, but other than that, Whiskey was a closed book.

Suddenly, you realized you’d been off in your own head thinking instead of saying anything back. Your eyes finally focused back on Jack and you could see that he looked ready to bolt at any second. Instead of prodding for more, you kissed the tip of his nose. “Hey, it’s okay,” you reassured him. “You can tell me more about you when you’re ready. It makes me worry about you, sure, but I still trust you.”

Whiskey gave you a soft smile and his grip around you got tighter. You looked up at him just in time to see his eyes slide shut and his breathing turn steady. You weren’t sure where this left your relationship with Whiskey, but you figured you two would talk about that in the morning. For now, you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the scent and the touch of your cowboy.

[kiraeas]

╭ ・✿ ┊giving you a love letter 💌

╰ ₊︶︶⊹˚₊︶︶ includes shoto todoroki katsuki bakugou notice: g!n reader ♡ first time writing, please be nice!

₊˚﹕shoto todoroki the bell rang, indicating that class has ended. students of class 1-a rapidly starting putting their belongings away and started pushing each other out of the door to get to the next class period in time. mr aizawa, your homeroom teacher, got his laptop bag and sleepily walked through the door after the impatient students. some of your classmates stayed a little longer in the classroom to talk to friends, and you noticed that shoto todoroki was among the people who stayed. you stopped mid sentence in your writing to glance at him and you saw that he was absolutely glaring daggers at you. you wondered if he was purposely looking at you or if he had zoned out. you and todoroki were friends, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive. the majority of the stragglers left the classroom, leaving only you and todoroki. you didn't notice this, so you kept writing your essay, determined to finish it in class because you absolutely hate homework. as you were immersed in your writing, you felt the touch of a hand tapping your shoulder. you looked up to see who the hand belonged to and you saw the peppermint haired boy standing above you. "hi, todoroki! do you need something?" you smiled and turned to face him. todoroki put his hand on his neck, he seemed embarrassed. or nervous. or angry? you couldn't tell. todoroki always had trouble expressing his emotions, but he recently started going to therapy to help him. "w-well, no i don't need anything. i have something for you." he stuttered. that wasn't like him, you thought. "oh? what is it?" you stood up, surprised. todoroki looked nervous and he glowed an adorable cotton candy pink color as he handed you a white envelope with your name in cursive on the front. "w-what is this?" you questioned, taken aback. there was no way the school's pretty boy just gave you a love letter. literally no way. "my therapist told me i should start being direct about my feelings and i should try writing them down, i made this letter for you to express how i really feel. i want to be honest with you. i really like you 'y/n'. would you go out with me?" he looked into your eyes and you looked into his. his beautiful, heterochromatic, eyes. one eye looked like the ocean waves on a hot summer's day, while the other looked like a storm cloud that circled over that ocean, threatening to disturb it. you broke the gaze and slung your arms around his neck, breathing in his scent and feeling at home with him. "i like you too, shoto todoroki. of course ill go out with you." ₊˚﹕katsuki bakugou

class 1-a started a tradition of once a month on a friday after school, you guys would all have a big dinner and all watch movies. this was secretly an excuse to get bakugou to cook. everyone couldn't believe it when he accepted the offer to cook for the whole class. tonight you all were watching scream 6, so he decided to make a spicy curry with chicken. everyone got their pajamas on and gathered in the common room that was filled in pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, and various other sleep over items. you smelled the delicious scent of bakugou's famous curry before you could even ask what he was cooking. you headed over to the island of the kitchen where you took a seat on the stool. "do you need any help with that?" you asked, kind of hoping he would say yes so you two could spend time together. he denied the offer by shaking his head, seeming too focused in his work to be interrupted. he looked puzzled, or like something else was on his mind. you shook it off as him just being immersed in his cuisine. as time passed, bakugou finally called to the class that dinner was ready to be served. everyone rushed to the kitchen, forming a line at the counter. you were patiently waiting for bakugou to hand you your plate. when he did, you too locked eyes for a few seconds, before you looked away, embarrassed. you felt a piece of paper under your plate, but you assumed it was a napkin. you went over to the couches to find a seat, scrolling on your phone to pass the time until the movie started. bakugou came over lastly with his plate, coming to sit by you. you dropped your phone as the movie began, and you started to eat your food. you reached for the supposedly napkin under your plate, until you saw that it was in fact an envelope, not a napkin. you excused yourself to the restroom, where you could get a closer look at the envelope without letting everyone know. you open the envelope while sitting on the counter of the bathroom and you read it. it contained a confession from bakugou, asking you to go out with him. you slightly started to tear up at his thoughtfulness and shyness. you always found him cute despite his usual grizzly bear self, and you promised yourself that you would accept his confession. you wipe your eyes and open the bathroom door, to be met with mr loverboy himself. "so.. i guess you read the letter?" he avoided eye contact. you found his shyness adorable, usually he seemed like a big angry grizzly bear who would cuss out anyone, and you loved the fact that he had a soft spot for you. "yes, i did. and i like you too, you big softie."

[yellowocaballero]

Prequel to ‘The Crow’s Funeral’: How Agnes + Gerry met, then proceeded to set Jon on fire.

Exactly what it says on the tin. This exists because I was rereading TCF and went “hey did I ever figure out how Agnes and Gerry met”. I didn’t, so this is it. Rest under the cut. No specific warnings except for the fact that, shockingly enough, Jon had gone through a lot of character development prior to the start of TCF and was actually a complete asshole for a year or two. 

“Daisy? What are you looking for?”

Agnes’s expression stretched into terror. She mouthed ‘fuck!’, and slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t breathe, and her chest never rose and fell, but she abruptly started trembling.

For the first time, Gerry reached out to reassure her. But her body heat had abruptly tripled, and Gerry was forced to pull back. In the small, unventilated space, it quickly became overwhelmingly hot.

“Shut it off!” Gerry hissed, as quietly as he physically could. “They’ll feel it -”

“That is the most dangerous monster in the world,” Agnes whispered, and Gerry fell silent. “Don’t move.”

For the first time in a very long time, in an apocalyptic world built on terror and fear, Gerry felt afraid.

Agnes was back. 

Gerry didn’t know how she had found him. His hiding place was pretty well hidden, thank-you-very-much. Adults were always trying to barricade themselves in houses - stupid, when the nightshades could drift through shit - and kids were always trying to hide in closets or attics. But Gerry was the perfect mix of adult and child - or, as they’re known, teenagers - and he had way too much experience stripping houses down for the possessions of the recently deceased. 

So Gerry knew about crawl spaces. Like in the Magician’s Nephew, some older row houses had little secret tunnels between each house. You couldn’t quite get into each house normally, but there were always gaps and weak points and hatches. Even better, at the very top there was a hidden attic where the generator and power box lived. It was small, and there were definitely some gross animal corpses that Gerry could have sworn moved, but it was mostly safe. So much as anything was safe. 

But, somehow, Agnes had found him. Gerry didn’t know what she was doing exploring row houses for fun, but judging from the scent of smoke that’s been in the air lately he didn’t want to know. 

The sharp rapping echoed through the small attic, directly under the hatch with a huge heavy space heater dumped on it. Gerry had other means of entry, and Agnes thought that was the only door. Please! As if Gerry would live somewhere with only one escape exit. That was just asking to get stuck in a nightmare for a month. 

But, then again, maybe Agnes had never had to worry about that. 

“I brought food!” The high, clear voice called out - slightly muffled from the ceiling/floor, but unmistakable. “It’s Twinkies! Come down to eat it!”

“No way!” Gerry called down back. “I bet you put offal in it!”

“What does offal mean!”

“It’s, like, organs! Go away, lady!”

“I told you!” Agnes called back, weirdly delighted. “My name’s Agnes! I’m a Princess!”

“Princess of what, being lame!”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you, Princess Agnes!”

“Fuck me yourself!”

Ugh! She was so annoying! This was her fourth fucking time coming by here, and ever since she had realized that he was just a teenage boy she had been leaving food in front of the attic door. It was always weird food, too. Didn’t she know what humans ate?

Stupidly on cue, Gerry’s stomach rumbled. Ugh. 

“Go away,” Gerry called back, eager for her to just leave already so he could eat the shitty food she had undoubtedly left. “I don’t feel like getting turned into a candle today!”

For some reason, she didn’t reply to that. Gerry wondered if she was trying to fool him into thinking she was leaving, but joke’s on her - Gerry could hear footsteps all the way through the house. He waited with bated breath for a minute, two minutes, slowly growing confused why she wasn’t either yelling at him or leaving. 

He’d never tell her, but he kind of enjoyed fighting with her. 

Finally, she called out, with an emotion in her voice that he had never heard from her before, “Is that why you won’t come out? You think I’d turn you into a candle?”

Gerry was flabbergasted. “Yes?” he called back. “You turn everyone into candles.”

“...it’s not just because you don’t like me?”

Aw, man. Gerry abruptly felt a little bad for the flame monster cult leader lady. She couldn’t be any older than him. “You’re really nice,” Gerry called back, feeling like an idiot. “I just didn’t make it this far by not being careful! Thanks for the food, though!”

A longer silence this time. For some reason, Gerry felt a weird kind of anxious. Not the normal level of ‘aaah im gonna get eaten’ anxious. But something different. He couldn’t describe it. 

Finally, Agnes called back, “Do you want me to stop bothering you? I’m sorry if I’ve been harassing you. I’m not good at - at all of this.”

Gerry sat in his own silence, sitting cross-legged in front of the space heater on top of the hatch. His baggy jeans clung to his legs, slightly sweaty and definitely unwashed, and his raggedy thin black jacket was also a little sweaty. His hair was plastered to his head, limp and dirty. Wherever Agnes went, heat followed. 

People who made dumb decisions didn’t live very long. Gerry had lived for quite a while - well, he was fifteen, but he had made it all year without getting eaten, which was really quite impressive. 

And he had made it alone. When he woke up in this green and terrifying world, Mum hadn’t been there. He had looked for her for months. He had almost been ripped to shreds in Pinhole Books. She wasn’t in any of their usual London hideaways, either. Maybe she was outside of London, somewhere far away…

In all of Gerry’s books, he’d pack up his backpack and set out to look for Mum. He wouldn’t stop until he found her. Then he’d find out that she’d been embroiled in some plot to stop all of this, and he’d help her, and she’d hug him…

But it wasn’t a book. No matter how strange this new world was, fiction couldn’t begin to match. And Gerry didn’t really miss his Mum. Not really. He missed the fact that he was alone. He missed the fact that she was powerful and smart and talented, and definitely would have been able to protect the both of them. Gerry had to protect himself now, and he missed that safety more than he ever missed Mum. 

Gerry wondered if Agnes was lonely. How could she, with a whole cult?

It was a stupid decision. But Gerry had always trusted too easy, anyway. 

He stood up and pushed the space heater with a thick, screeching grinding sound that scraped uncomfortably along the wood. With a final heave, he pushed it off the hatch, and reluctantly bent down to lift the hatch and unfold the ladder. 

“If you turn me into a candle I’m giving you an allergy attack,” Gerry called down, and the girl known as Agnes Montague smiled up at him brilliantly. 

***

That wasn’t how Agnes and Gerry started. But it had been, maybe, how they got going. 

Agnes, Gerry found out very quickly, was a hot-tempered girl. Save the jokes. She was always dressed like a sixties hippie, and her long red hair was always somehow glistening and clean. She let Gerry touch it, very carefully, and - yep, even the hair was wax. What a weird person. 

After a bit of frantic introductions and suspicious squinting from both sides, Gerry and Agnes had eventually sat down cross-legged from each other as Gerry stuffed Twinkies in his mouth and she eyed them warily. She had eyed them with a bit of trepidation, but Gerry’s obvious joy at eating them must have made her curious. That was one thing Agnes was: curious. Almost to death. 

“You really live up here? And you’ve never gotten trapped by a nightmare?”

Gerry shrugged uncomfortably, sucking at his fingers. “Yep. I run around town a lot too, cuz I get bored otherwise. It’s easy to evade all of that shit if you know how.”

“Wow.” It was probably her being a fire person or whatever, but Agnes’ eyes seemed to sparkle a little bit. “My cult members barely even let me outside by myself, and I can set shit on fire. You’re really weird for a human.”

Gerry couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little, even if he would have preferred her to use any other word than ‘weird’. “That’s what happens when your Mum trains you since birth to be a demon hunter.” He faltered a little. “I’m not sure if she knew this would happen, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Your mum knew?” Agnes gasped. “I thought nobody knew about the Entities before the apocalypse!”

“Your cult members must have known, right?” Gerry pointed out, and Agnes nodded in concession of the point. “Yeah, there were always a few of us. Not a lot, though. Tight-knit community, everyone knew each other. Hobbyists, you know. It sucked. Most of the people who got involved in the supernatural were jerks.” Actually, now that Gerry thought about it… “That crazy apocalypse prepper Salasea must be coming out like a bandit right now.”

Agnes nodded sagely, as if she knew who Salasea was. Maybe she did? Gerry had always gotten the impression that if all of the demon hunters knew each other, then maybe all of the demons did too. Eventually word about Mum had really started to get around. 

“You’re the first interesting human I’ve met,” Agnes said thoughtfully. “Most of them just - like, scream, you know? Or pretend I’m not there. Like if they don’t acknowledge me then I can’t hurt them. And, like, that’s the way it works for a lot of these things! But I’m a person too, you know?”

“You really aren’t.”

“I have feelings,” Agnes said firmly. “But maybe the reason why you’re still safe isn’t because you’re a super cool human hunter, Gerry.”

“It has to be a part of it,” Gerry said aggressively, eager to assert his masculinity and how cool he was.

“Of course,” Agnes allowed, making Gerry huff. “But I think it’s because you aren’t scared. You were wondering how I found you, right?” Gerry nodded slowly. He had been wondering how Agnes had caught on that he was living here. “It was because I felt a person - I can always feel body heat - but I didn’t taste any fear. I was setting some row houses on fire just to feel something, and you weren’t feeling anything either!” She set her expression firmly, almost bravely. “I think we’re the same.”

“A goth human teenager living in an attic and a flame princess of the fire cult?” Gerry asked skeptically. They couldn’t be less similar. Gerry lived each day in - well, as Agnes pointed out, not fear, but he was constantly just trying to survive. It was all he had ever known, but he knew that others didn’t live like that. He had known when he was a kid - that other kids were normal, were happy - and he knew it now. That a small handful of people in this world were having a blast, and that everyone else suffered. “We’re nothing alike.”

But Agnes faltered, just a bit, and Gerry just a little bit of that loneliness in her expression again. “You’re the only other kid who’s had a conversation with me.” She paused a beat. “Besides, like, Callum, but he’s a baby.”

Maybe, in a schoolyard or a town or a world, Gerry and Agnes weren’t so similar. Maybe they’d have nothing in common. But maybe, in this world that was both so isolated and so unified, they could be a little similar after all. 

“I’ll allow it,” Gerry said graciously. He wanted to shake her hand, but he deeply knew that it was a bad idea. Instead, he broke his Twinkie in half, and held out the other one to her. “Friends?”

Agnes eyed the Twinkie warily. “Do you become friends by asking to be friends with someone?”

“I dunno, I don’t have any friends.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

But she took the Twinkie. It was a start. 

****

Of course, Gerry and Agnes were far more alike than they had first thought. Mostly in the fact that their evil mothers had killed their fathers (which Gerry had the sneaking suspicion wasn’t a universal experience) and that the both of them were actually kind of literally protagonists of a YA book.

Well, Gerry had always been the protagonist of his own life. But he would write a story about Agnes too: about the spoiled princess who rejected her destiny. Who had a really cool previous life where she was all dramatic and sad and stuff, who died tragically only to be reborn as a magical teenage girl. Seriously, it was right out of a Sarah J Maas novel. 

  Maybe they latched onto each other too quickly, but it was the kind of latching on when you made friends with another kid at the orientation to summer camp and then religiously stuck to the kid once the actual camp started until you got another friend. Maybe. Gerry's never been to summer camp, how was he supposed to know. 

But Agnes was sharply quick, surprisingly kind, and fiercely protective. Gerry had never met somebody who cared as much as her. It was really weird. He supposed that people like her, the powerful and destructive, had the privilege to care. 

Agnes snuck over more and more often, and sometimes Gerry went to go visit her. Eventually they started roaming the streets together, loitering in businesses and committing general acts of tomfoolery. Gerry was an old hat at tomfoolery - he had only been vaguely supervised most of his life - but Agnes encroached every second of minor rule breaking with cautious glee. 

Not that there really were rules anymore. Even if you were the kind of juvenile delinquent that got adults yelling at you and caused minor or major property damage, it wasn’t as if the cops were going to come and take you away. Either you got away with it, or you were eaten for a while. This was very natural to Gerry, and after a little bit of convincing it came easily to Agnes too. Maybe they really were well-suited for each other after all. 

If Gerry’s Mum could see him now, she would call him ‘dreadful’ and ‘ill-mannered’ and ‘badly behaved’. But...she wasn’t there, so she could hardly complain. Served her right.

Months - maybe - later, Gerry and Agnes were hanging out in Gerry’s crawlspace again after a long day terrorizing demons and old men alike. They were splitting a blood orange - literally - and letting the sticky juice (juice?) run down their hands, laughing as Agnes imitated the look of shock on the old man’s face. Sitting down on the floor, flavor bursting sweet on his tongue, as Agnes teased him for dropping peels everywhere...Gerry was almost happy. 

Rookie mistake. 

Agnes sensed it first, stiffening slightly as her body pulsed slightly warmer. Gerry scooted a little further away from her carefully as she turned to look at the thin plaster wall, brow furrowing. 

“Is it a nightmare?” Gerry whispered. “Or a person?”

“Neither,” Agnes whispered back. “It’s…”

Then Gerry heard it too: the clack of nails on hardwood, and a sound so terrifying it made his gut tie itself into knots. It was a growl, bestial and wet. Something was snarling outside.

Gerry stopped breathing, sitting absolutely still. The sounds of sniffing and snarling were loud and distinct, and he couldn’t help but stare at the sticky, juicy, smelly orange in his hands. Agnes was also still, far more completely than Gerry ever could be, carefully listening. 

He wanted to whisper to Agnes, make a game plan, but the monster would hear them. Part of Gerry wanted to tremble in fear, but that wasn’t useful. He forced himself to calm down as best as he could while keeping his breaths minimal. Remember Dune. Fear was the mind killer. Fear is the little death. 

But then Agnes smiled at him faintly, making a gentle gesture with her hand. Agnes was a literal fire messiah. She could take almost any monster. Gerry had never seen her afraid of anything, just contemptuous or annoyed. Having her there with him was more reassuring than any book quote, and Gerry exhaled softly as he smiled back at her. Agnes was going to torch that monster, and it would be super cool, and they’d high five, and -

“Daisy? What are you looking for?”

Agnes’s expression stretched into terror. She mouthed ‘fuck!’, and slapped a hand over her mouth. She didn’t breathe, and her chest never rose and fell, but she abruptly started trembling.

For the first time, Gerry reached out to reassure her. But her body heat had abruptly tripled, and Gerry was forced to pull back. In the small, unventilated space, it quickly became overwhelmingly hot. 

“Shut it off!” Gerry hissed, as quietly as he physically could. “They’ll feel it -”

“That is the most dangerous monster in the world,” Agnes whispered, and Gerry fell silent. “Don’t move.”

For the first time in a very long time, in an apocalyptic world built on terror and fear, Gerry felt afraid. 

A faint yipping echoed through the space, almost like a dog. It could never be mistaken for a dog. 

“Well, yes, there’s people everywhere. Other places have more people, even. Why can’t we just go there?” Another bark, a low bass cut. “Oh, if it’s a Hunt, then it’s alright.”

The heat was growing oppressive, and Gerry frantically motioned for Agnes to cut it out. He was withholding his own ragged breathing, and abruptly Gerry felt as if he couldn’t breathe. It was just making him more scared, the sweat trickling down his neck -

There was another yip, so close it might as well be made in his ear. It clearly came from directly in front of him. 

Gerry couldn’t help it - he screamed, overwhelmed with fire and heat and fear and the wolf at their door. 

The wall exploded.

Dust and insulation burst outwards in a fine white cloud, and Gerry and Agnes were abruptly coughing intensely and the wall cracked, folded, and collapsed inwards. Gerry was showered with fragments of wood and plaster, stifling another scream, and screwed his eyes shut against the sudden influx of light. 

He cracked them open as quickly as he could, unwilling to meet whatever was in front of him with his eyes closed. Instantly, overwhelmingly, Gerry was brought face to snout with a giant wolf.

Gerry firmly believed that people weren’t meant to see apex predators up close. Nobody should be able to touch a bear, was Gerry’s opinion. What was an anaconda? Gerry was on the opposite side of the room. He wasn’t afraid, but he hadn’t made it to the ripe old age of fifteen without being highly cautious. 

It wasn’t right, staring this wolf in the face. Every inch of it stood out to him: the slobber, the snarl, the canines almost as long as his hand. It was silvery white, with a thick ruff and coat, and Gerry watched in awe as the wolf snarled and - 

And stopped snarling. It started looking at him curiously instead, bushy tail sweeping gently side to side. 

The immediate problem almost solved, Gerry was able to take in the figure behind the wolf. 

He was a guy. Unfairly tall, Black with curly hair drawn tight into a ponytail. Sharp features, undercut by unnaturally green eyes. He was in a suit that looked like he had put it on three months ago and had never changed. He was...wearing a trenchcoat? He was just a guy!

“A human!” The man - monster? Guy? Nightmare? Avatar? - cried. “Oh, good job, Daisy! You’re a fantastic investigator.” The wolf - Daisy was a stupid name for a wolf - barked lowly. “Yes, it is like an oven in here, isn’t it?”

Gerry opened his mouth, then closed it. He was still cowering on his ass, covered in dust and plaster. This guy was Agnes’ monster? Maybe she had mistaken him for someone else. “Who -”

“He’s even talking!” The man exclaimed, as if he was a dancing monkey. “They never talk to me voluntarily, you know.” Daisy barked again. “I think it’s cute! Kids are so repetitive, but this one smells great. Good job, Daisy.” 

Before Gerry could protest the man stepped forward and looked down at him, and a sick realization trickled through him. 

The man had nothing behind his eyes. Bright green, sick and churning, radioactive and poisonous. His expression was absent and vaguely curious, like a child watching an ant crawl through its anthill. Slowly, intensely, the man’s placid expression broke into a sharp and demented smile. 

It wasn’t the smile of a human staring at a tasty sandwich. It wasn’t even the smile of a monster drawing a human into a nightmare. It was the smile of a child holding the magnifying glass to the ant: triumphant, because now the child got to see what happens when an ant blackened to a crisp. Elated, because they were the child, and not the ant. Victorious, because they could only remember the distinction in the act of causing harm. 

“Statement of -”

“Leave him alone!”

The monster exploded into flames. 

Agnes leapt from her position in the crawlspace, slightly tucked away out of sight, and shoved at the wolf hard. The wolf yowled, her handprints blackening its fur, and it retreated snarling. 

It was not the first time Gerry had seen someone set on fire. It happened a lot, when you hung out with Agnes. But the man burned, in bright and beautiful red-hot flames, crackling and searing the skin and air and sky. His mouth was open in a silent scream. 

Something green shone from within the flames. 

Then the flames were gone. It was as if he had never been set on fire at all. At most he smelled vaguely of burning flesh, and his hair had broken free of its ponytail to settle in fuzzy waves. 

The monster looked mildly peeved. 

Agnes grabbed Gerry, leaving red-hot scorch marks on his hoodie, and yanked him behind her. Gerry was not embarrassed to say that he absolutely hid behind Agnes as she put herself between him and the monster and his wolf. The wolf who was now snarling deeply at them, and the slightly irritated monster who shook ash off his unharmed trench coat. 

“I don’t care if you called dibs on him,” the monster bitched. “You don’t get to stop me in the middle of a - oh, Agnes!” The monster’s expression brightened as he snapped his fingers. “Agnes Montague, right? Your cult introduced me to you at - what was it -”

“Annabelle’s annual party five months ago,” Agnes said flatly. Her wax hair was still burning at the ends, and although Gerry couldn’t see her expression he knew it had to be fierce. “Nice to see you again, Jon. Now stay away from him.” 

“If you called dibs then you shouldn’t have let me try to eat him,” Jon - which was the dumbest name for an evil monster - complained. He smelled his arm, grimacing. “Setting me on fire’s downright rude, Agnes. Didn’t Jude teach you any manners?”

“Go away!” Agnes yelled. Gerry realized quietly that she was still shaking. “He’s not yours! He’s the one thing you aren’t allowed to hurt!”

Jon frowned at her. Gerry could practically see it: Did_not_compute.exe. It simply didn’t make sense: that there was something in the world that he wasn’t allowed to hurt. That there was something in the world that was not his. 

Before Jon could speak again, his wolf barked harshly at him. She kept barking, completely indecipherably, as Jon’s expression screwed up in uncomprehension. “What does it matter if they’re children.” The wolf barked. “I mean, I don’t actually care if we piss off the Desolation or not.” Bark, bark. “Why are you always guilt tripping me!” Bark, bark, bark, bark. Eventually Jon’s expression turned somewhat abashed, and then downright embarrassed. 

“Right, right.” He turned back to Agnes and Gerry, a little sulky. “Sorry for trying to eat your human, Agnes. In my defense, he was quite -” The dog yipped. “ - innocent, and I’m sure he’s very fun. Great. Well, this was a waste of time. Call me if you get tired of him, Agnes.” 

Jon turned to go, and Gerry could not see his back soon enough. The heat had died as Agnes calmed down, her arms crossed over her chest and scowling fiercely. 

“Apologize to him!”

Jon froze, halfway across the room. Gerry quietly wanted to die. 

The monster slowly turned on his heel, looking at Agnes with a faintly flabbergasted expression. “You can’t be serious -” The wolf barked again. Gerry had the impression that the wolf was in charge of him. “Stop ganging up on me -” Bark. “I don’t know how to talk to humans, don’t make me!” A very firm bark. 

“Do it,” Agnes said firmly. “Or I’ll set you on fire again.”

Unbelievably, the monster groaned. He turned to Gerry, fluorescent eye twitching. “Alright, alright! Listen, uh - kiddo? Kiddo. I am very sorry that you tasted - I am very sorry that I tried to scar you for life and consume your trauma. I cannot stress enough how it’s nothing personal. There.” Weirdly enough, he looked a little proud of himself. “Hah. Totally rocked that talking to a human thing.”

“Uh,” Gerry said, too dizzy with the events of the last ten minutes to care very much about what he said, “is the wolf in charge of you?”

Even more unbelievably, the man brightened. “I’m her assistant! Not very many people pick that up. You’re very bright, little human. Do you want to pet her?” Jon glanced at Daisy, who looked unimpressed. Very loudly, he hissed at her, “Do children like petting dogs?”

The wolf, somehow, seemed to inform him that yes, they did. 

They were in too deep now. Gerry walked up and petted the wolf. It was fucking awesome. Agnes groaned and pulled him back again very quickly. She seemed a little jealous. The wolf yipped at her and Agnes reluctantly petted the wolf too. 

Jon clapped his hands. “Well! That was very unpleasant. I won’t ask what you’re doing hiding in a wall, Agnes. As a personal favor to you.”

“Thanks,” Agnes said flatly. 

“Tell Diego and Jude that I’m not doing it. Or eating your human. As a personal favor to you.”

“Definitely will.”

“Fantastic.” Jon’s eyes glinted, in the soft light of Agnes’ flames. “I’m very happy you’ve reincarnated into that fun child’s body, Agnes. Children are so tempestuous and impulsive. I wouldn’t have tolerated an adult setting me on fire. You understand that, don’t you?” 

Agnes nodded, almost shakily.

“You understand that for an adult, that would have had very different consequences.”

Agnes nodded again.

“Fantastic!” Then Jon was beaming again, all carelessness and laziness. “Have fun, you little delinquents. Come on, Daisy. I’m famished.”

He swanned off, wolf following closely on his tail. But the wolf looked back as it crossed the threshold, large yellow eyes piercing in a way that Gerry just couldn’t name, before they both disappeared. As slowly and terrifyingly as they had come.

Ten seconds passed, then fifteen. 

Agnes crumpled to her knees and bent over the floor, shaking, and her hands pressed hot scorch marks into the wood. She was still shuddering, and Gerry bent down next to her. He couldn’t physically comfort her, but he could put his hand close to hers on the wood. As close as possible, yet never touching. 

“We are so lucky to be alive,” Agnes breathed, before abruptly groaning. “I set him on fire! I set The Archivist on fire!”

The title tickled something in Gerry’s brain, bringing up an insane amount of questions, but he brushed them all aside. Gertrude was dead - or at the very least, very far away, where she was no good to him. She had to be, otherwise he would have noticed her cutting a swathe through Britain by now. 

“Who is he?” Gerry asked. He didn’t really want to know, but...well, he was himself. He wanted to know everything. It was kind of his whole thing.

Agnes sat down on her knees, rubbing her forehead, and Gerry cautiously sat down next to her. “He’s the monster who sold the world. The most dangerous man ever made.”

“The most dangerous man in the world gets bossed around by his dog?” Gerry asked, before the words sunk in. “Wait, I thought that was Jonah Magnus!”

“Jonah Magnus doesn’t kill people because they annoy him!” Agnes snapped, before she groaned into her hands again. “And I set him on fire…Diego is going to kill me!”

“For what it’s worth,” Gerry said awkwardly, “I’m glad you set him on fire. He was kind of a dick.” He paused again, uncertain of how to say it. “And...thanks for caring, I guess. You really don’t have to.” He shrugged, unwilling to state what had always been unsaid between them. “I’m a human. These things happen to us. You just have to deal with it.”

That was the way of the world. It had always been that way, even before the apocalypse. The strong and powerful and important like Jon kicked around smaller people, and the smaller people just hoped they survived it. 

Gerry was a survivor. Nobody had ever saved him before. Maybe because nobody had ever saved him before. 

Agnes tackled Gerry in a tight, pressing hug. She wasn’t hot at all, just mildly warm - an incredible act of effort and concentration on her part. Her arms were solid and unyielding, never mistaken for flesh, but she clutched at him with a unique desperation. Gerry cautiously hugged her back, letting her bury her head into his shoulder. 

“Not to you,” Agnes whispered. “Nothing bad’s going to happen to you. Not even The Archivist.”

“You can’t promise that,” Gerry whispered. 

“We’re family.” Agnes separated from him, stubbornly fighting boiling tears. “And I’m sick of just dealing with it.”

Gerry opened his mouth, then closed it. “Family?” He said weakly.

Agnes blushed hotly. “If you want!” She tightened her fists on her skirt, winding the fabric between her fingers anxiously. “It’s just that - I know you don’t have anyone...and I have my cultists, but they don’t really care about me, not like you do...and I know it used to be different, that family used to mean something different, but I don’t care about what old people thought family meant. I care about you, and we’re sticking together, so that’s what we are.” She faltered a little. “If you want.”

“Siblings, then,” Gerry said faintly. “If you want.”

And he did want it. More than anything, Gerry wanted this. 

When Agnes smiled at him, and she hugged him tightly again, Gerry was halfway certain that yet another disaster was about to befall them. He knew that meteors were going to strike, that the ground was going to open up and engulf them, that the world would end in fire and ice, because Gerry was so happy it clenched his heart. He was so happy he couldn’t breathe. 

“It’ll be okay,” Agnes said into his shoulder, “we’ll never have to deal with Jonathan Sims again. I promise.”

****

It was not a promise Agnes kept. 

They ran into him again. And again. And again. Eventually, after meeting a monstrous golem of fear and suffering that induced paralyzing fear so frequently, said simulacrum of human experience became slightly tiresome. And you realized that he was, actually, really not that bright. Or at the very least not very mature. And that his wolf sister kind of wore the pants in that relationship. That he and his wolf sister were like Agnes and Gerry, in every possible way. And that he was, weirdly, deeply kind. And that he loved, so bright and pure and fearsome that it had brought down the world. That he was capable of loving Gerry. Maybe even, given enough time, anyone. 

Many months later, as Gerry, Agnes, Jon, and Daisy sat in an ice cream shop splitting blood orange ice cream (with real blood!) and bickering endlessly about if Friends was the Flesh or the Stranger, that Gerry thought he might feel something familiar in his chest. 

Something that clenched his heart, something that made him so happy he couldn’t breathe. Something that felt like fire and ice and meteors and disaster.

Jon must have felt it. He looked at Gerry, surprised, with ice cream slowly dripping from his spoon and congealing on the table. “What’s wrong with you? Are you ill? Agnes, is he ill?”

“No,” Gerry said, wiping at his eyes. “I guess I’m happy again.”

Everybody stared at him, slightly dumbfounded. 

Daisy barked. 

“You’re quite right, Daisy,” Jon said. 

He didn’t tell them what she was right about, and Gerry never asked. He already knew. 

[make-me-imagine]

Heartfelt Gesture

Scenario Request: Arthur cooks you dinner to cheer you up. Requested by: Jay (a year ago, sorry! lol But Happy Birthday!)

Pairing: Arthur Pendragon x GN!Reader

Warnings: A small kiss at the end, but that's it.

Words: ~800

-

He started to notice it slowly, when your smile wasn't quite as big as normal. And when your eyes didn't shine as brightly as they had before. But he really started to question it when he did not see you as often. And when he did, you seemed to barely have the time or energy to speak to him.

Finding Gwen one day, he asked her what was going on. You always excused it as being busy, and not getting a lot of sleep. But he wasn't sure. He knew you were not telling him everything. This was confirmed when Gwen told him the full story.

You were busy, and you weren't getting any sleep. Recently, almost all of the the tutors and teachers in Camelot had fallen ill or moved away, and you were one of the few left behind. So more and more you were called on to help the families of Camelot, even dragged in to watch over the children when they were alone. You had barely had a moment to yourself recently.

Arthur felt guilty when he heard about this, but even more so that he hadn't noticed earlier how overwhelmed you were. But he decided that he wanted to help you, or to at least cheer you up.

So here he was, standing at your door, waiting for the moment you would return. He looked around restlessly, tapping his fingers rhythmically. Looking down at his chest, he spotted a clump of potato on his shirt. Quickly brushing it away, he looked up, feeling a jolt when he saw you round the corner.

You looked down at your feet as you made your way to your home, glad you had only been asked by a few people to cover for their normal tutors. You wanted some time to relax, and you were hungry.

Looking up, you halted in your step for a moment as you saw Arthur standing by your door. He smiled at you, waving lightly. The way he seemed restless made you nervous.

Walking the rest of the way to your door you smiled softly at him. "Hello Arthur. Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No, I just wanted to see you." He smiled as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You felt your face warm a bit at the action. "I haven't really had the chance recently."

You felt a little guilty as you nodded your head. "Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I've just been-"

"Busy?" He smiled down at you, almost a sad smile. "Gwen told me. Why didn't you let me know? I could have helped."

You let out a soft chuckle. "How? You want to tutor unruly children?"

"Oh, definitely not. But, now that I know, I was able to convince my father to send out an announcement to nearby villages and cities letting them know that we are in need of tutors and teachers."

Your eyes widened a bit. "Oh." You shook your head, feeling a sudden wave of foolishness. "I wasn't aware you could do that so easily."

Arthur chuckled softly, placing his hands on your shoulders and a kiss on your forehead. "It's alright, it's done now. Soon you will be able to go back to your normal schedule, and I will actually be able to see you again."

You smiled as you looked back up at him. "Thank you Arthur."

"You're welcome, and, I am sorry."

You furrowed your brow. "Sorry for what?"

He glanced at your door before clearing his throat and pushing it open. Slowly, you walked into your home, immedietely noticing the dishes on the counter, and the food on the table. Potatoes, a slightly burnt chicken, rolls that may or may not be as hard as rocks, some vegetables and two goblets of wine.

"You made me dinner?" You asked with a surprised smile.

"Uh, well, I attempted too yes. Gwen told me what to do, but...I'm not great at remembering this sort of thing."

You giggled, walking over to the table, before looking back at him with a bright smile. "Well, however it turned out, I appreciate the gesture. I've never seen you attempt to cook."

Walking up to you, he stared down at you. "And you probably never will."

You laughed and pressed your head to his chest. Arthur felt his heart swell, so glad to hear your laugh again, and see that same bright shining smile on your face.

Looking back up at him you shook your head softly. "I love you Arthur Pendragon."

He smiled down at you, gently bushing your cheek with his thumb. "And I love you. But, you might want to hold that thought until we find out if I accidentally poisoned you."

Letting out a giddy laugh, you pressed your hands onto his chest, leaning up, you pressed a quick kiss on his lips. "Well even if you did, I will die happy."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo Merlin/Arthur Taglist: @multifandomfix, @flourishandblotts-inc

[wnderkoo]

uywm ━ chapter three

summary: in which one drunken night turns into weeks of silent pining and petty jealousy until you and jungkook finally realise what’s been in front of you both this entire time pairing: jungkook x reader genre: angst, smut, fluff | best friends to lovers, fwb word count: 3k warnings: explicit smut; fingering, pretty tame, unedited bc im a lazy bitch

chapter three | series masterlist

They say your college years are supposed to be one of the highlights of your life, and while that may be true most of the time, the past few weeks have been nothing but immeasurably boring.

Another day of lectures dragging on has you wandering down to the cafe after your last seminar, deciding that nothing could lift your spirits better than a good cup of coffee. The coolness of the air is what hits you first as you pass through the door. It wasn't a particularly hot day but it was significantly warmer outside than it was in. When you approach the counter, Namjoon is drying a glass and placing it back on the shelf behind him. He smiles at you when he sees you, waving a hand.

"Hey, Yn!"

Namjoon's cheery personality was definitely a refresher after the day you'd had. Just seeing him behind the counter in his little barista outfit was enough to put a smile on your face.

"Hey, Joon,"

"How were your classes?" he asks, already typing in your coffee order. An iced americano with two pumps of caramel that cost usual customers an extra $1.50 but only cost you a smile and a conversation. Namjoon loved to lecture the other employees on giving friends discounts, but it seemed the rules didn't apply to him.

"Still boring," you sigh, leaning against the counter. You had always been friends with Namjoon. It felt like he'd been there for you since forever, and whenever you needed a trivia partner, Namjoon was always your go to.

He had graduated a few years ago so you barely saw him around campus, but when he told you he was opening up a cafe here you were ecstatic. It quickly became everyone's favourite hang out spot, with a homey atmosphere and plants hanging on every wall, it was the place people came between classes or after them. There were bookshelves in the back corner filled with Namjoon's favourite books and even a few recommendations from friends. It was a sanctuary. Namjoon's coffee making skills only made people love it more.

"Busy today?" you ask, leaning against the counter.

"It was earlier, not so much now," he replies.

Glancing around the cafe, there weren't that many people inside.. even if it was late in the afternoon, there were usually at least ten or so people still hanging around but today was quieter than most days.

There wasn't much food in your apartment so you indulge in a chicken schnitzel and salad along with your usual coffee. Taking your usual spot by the windows, you scroll through your phone and answer messages as you wait for Namjoon to bring out your food. There were a few messages from your group chat and some from Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in a few days, not since you first hooked up under your new arrangement.

When you got home that day, you'd expected to recoil and start regretting everything, but you felt relieved for some reason. You had been so stressed that your friendship would change or your dynamic would shift, that it was a relief when Jungkook brought up the proposition. You liked how good he made you feel, and you liked being able to feel that way and not be drowned in your guilt. He was the one who put the idea out there in the first place, so you thought that you were both on the same page.

One iced americano with two pumps caramel and a plate of chicken and salad appears on the table before a head of pink hair slides into the seat in front of you. You would have told Namjoon to run his cafe, but the only people in the cafe were either reading or working on their school work, so you assumed he wouldn't need to tend to them as much.

As you take your time devouring your food, Namjoon fills you in on everything going on in his life, showing you pictures on his phone of the new bonsai tree that he'd gotten over the weekend. You animatedly tell him about the book you're currently reading, and like always, he asks to borrow it when you're finished.

You're too busy laughing at something Namjoon says to notice the door open, but when you feel a pair of arms resting on your head, you know exactly who just walked in.

"Lunch date without me?" you can almost hear the fake pout in Jungkook's voice, even from above you. Craning your neck, you look up at him, eyes widening slightly a the hint of a hickey beneath the collar of his shirt. You catch the grin he flashes down at you before he takes the empty seat beside you and sits down. You swat his hand when he steals a bite of your chicken, rolling your eyes when Jungkook pulls away with a laugh.

"Hey, Joon, " he nods at the pink haired man. Namjoon gives him a fist bump and just like that they're off talking about some Twitch streamer you don't know.

You fade into the background, quietly finishing your food as you listen to them throwing gaming terms back and forth that have you scrunching your face in confusion. Eventually the conversation shifts to something you're familiar with and you're able to chime in when Namjoon invites you to hang out this weekend.

"But I'm shit at ice skating!" Jungkook exclaims, throwing his head back dramatically. He had gone once in high school, and a handful of nasty falls ensured that he never came back.

"They have those little penguins you can push." you snort, smirking down at your plate at the way Jungkook glares holes into the side of your head.

"Ha ha.." he rolls his eyes, punching your shoulder jokingly.

"I can't ice skate either," you say, stuffing a mouthful of salad past your lips and chewing.

"We can stick together."

Namjoon gives you a look that you kick him under the table for and thankfully Jungkook doesn't notice. He thinks his decision over for a second before answering.

"Fine."

Namjoon excuses himself to serve a customer that had just walked in, waving to the pretty brunette and switching into barista mode once he's back behind the counter. He didn't have to change much, his laid-back attitude and kindness were already a feat in his usual personality.

"What are you doing here anyway?" you ask, turning back to Jungkook. You catch him mid-bite, a fork of chicken hanging right in front of his open mouth. You don't bother to nag him.

"I was walking to my car when I saw you guys in the window, and I wanted to come say hi," he shrugs, eating the bite of chicken when he realises you aren't going to stop him.

"Do you want me to give you a ride home?" Jungkook asks.

You were supposed to message Yeri to pick you up, but you had seen her with Taehyung earlier and you didn't want to take her away.

"Yeah, please."

Jungkook helps you finish off your food before you slide out of your seats and head to the counter to say goodbye to Namjoon.

"See you guys later!" he smiles, in the middle of pouring milk into his coffee.

You hadn't noticed the sun was setting until you walk outside and see everything painted in warm oranges and yellows. The sun behind you made the tips of Jungkook's hair glow like the embers of a fire, and the warm light kissed his features, painting him like a piece of renaissance art.

You walk with Jungkook towards his car, complaining and asking why he had to park so far. He only rolls his eyes, throwing an arm onto your shoulder and pulling you towards him.

There was nothing special about walking through a car park, but with Jungkook, even the most boring things on Earth could become memorable.

Your laughs filter through the car park as you walk to his car, up into the night until they're dancing with the stars in endless skies of black and blue.

"I still think Tangled is one of the best Disney movies.."

Jungkook rolls his eyes from beside you on the couch, adding to the mental tally in his head of all the times you've brought this topic up. "Mhm," he hums nonchalantly, throwing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. It was Thursday evening, and you were perched on the couch watching movies with Jungkook after he'd begged you to let him come over. As soon as he'd seen the word Fine on his screen he was throwing on a pair of sweatpants and racing to your house.

His initial enthusiasm had withered away on the spot when he'd seen the preview for Tangled on the screen, but Jungkook wasn't about to tell you to your face that he didn't want to watch it. Curled up together on the couch, Jungkook kept you warm and fed you popcorn while you watched your favourite Disney movie for the millionth time.

"But the way he looks at her~" you sigh dreamily. Jungkook can see the reflection of the lanterns in the movie dance in your eyes as he looks down at you and he feels an ever familiar warmth in his chest. It was true after all- the way Flynn looks at Rapunzel with such fondness.

It reminded him of something.

After the usual routine of you crying into his shoulder, mumbling nonsense about what a great movie you just watched, Jungkook leaves you on the couch to get a snack. In the kitchen, he throws open the fridge and scans the shelves before pulling out a container of strawberries.

The open space of your apartment allowed him to look over at you, sprawled out on the couch with the remote in your hand as you browsed the Netflix movie page. Jungkook grabs two grape sodas before returning to the couch. Lifting your legs onto his lap, Jungkook hands you a soda and sets the strawberries on your stomach. You'd loaded up Rush Hour 2, the opening credits already playing when Jungkook had returned.

"You can't laugh!" he exclaims, noticing the strawberries on your stomach moving around like an earthquake. They fall and spill onto your rug and your eyes meet his for a beat before you both burst out laughing.

"You're so stupid," Jungkook says, shaking his head.

Watching movies is something you could never get tired of, even if you've already seen them a dozen times before each re-watch feels like the first. Whether you're watching them by yourself or with friends, movies are the one thing that never fail to make you happy.

So it meant something when even Jungkook could tell you weren't feeling it.

You'd had a particularly hard day, starting the morning off with a spilled coffee and then getting to class late which only set you up for more grief. Your professor had decided to pick on you today, scrutinising any little thing he could until you practically ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class finished.

You had messaged Jungkook hoping he could come over and watch a movie or two, and you'd be cheered up. But your energy had been drained since the start of the day, and not even Rush Hour 2 could boost your mood.

Tangled was a no-brainer, it would make you happy no matter what. But as soon as the credits had started rolling, signifying the end to your most acclaimed movie, your dejection had crept back.

"What's wrong?" Jungkook asks softly, noticing your pouty bottom lip. When you mumble 'nothing', Jungkook isn't convinced, taking your hands and pulling you up to him.

"What's wrong?" he repeats, smoothing over your hair. Your hands stay locked in his and you're forced to look at him, his eyes stern as he patiently waits for your answer.

"I just had a bad day," you sigh, and his eyes immediately soften. In one easy motion, Jungkook lifts you onto his lap, caging you with an arm around your waist against his chest.

"Relax," he murmurs against your ear, and a shiver unconsciously tingles down your spine. You can't help but melt against him, leaning your head back against his shoulder as Jungkook holds you close. It was hard to stay upset when he hugged you like this, his warmth seeping into you and his arms around you keeping you safe.

Throughout the movie, a hand moves down to your thigh, massaging the soft skin that's exposed by your shorts. It was supposed to help you relax and ease some stress, but your breathy sighs and the way you shift in his lap has Jungkook's dick stirring in his sweatpants.

Your breath hitches when his fingers hike up, smoothing over your inner thigh and inching dangerously close to your quickly dampening centre.

"Kook-"

He silences you with a gentle kiss on your shoulder before you feel his mouth against your ear as he tells you to relax for him. You can only keep still as his hand dips below the waistband of your shorts, sliding lower and lower until he's cupping your sex.

"Fuck," he breathes into your hair, feeling your arousal through the fabric of your panties. He toys with your clit through the fabric, eliciting a sweet sigh from your lips. It's almost embarrassing how wet you are already, his teasing touches over your clothed pussy drawing moans straight from your throat.

"Let me make you feel good, hm?"

His sultry tone in your ear is only making you wetter, and you grasp his free arm tightly as you practically beg him.

"Please-"

The word dies short when Jungkook finally moves your panties to the side, running a finger from your hole to your slit and cursing to himself at how wet you are.

"You're drenched, sweetness.." he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he continues toying at your folds. You barely realise when he slips a finger in, your slickness letting him slide right in with ease. He quickly adds a second finger, and you finally start to feel a sweet and subtle stretch. Your moans come out in breathy sighs of Jungkook's name as he lazily pumps his fingers inside of you, switching between scissoring you absentmindedly as he leaves kisses on your neck and thrusting quickly in and out and making you squirm in his arms. He whispers little praises and teases against your ear, each little pet name sending a new wave of arousal down to your core and making the slide of his fingers easier.

You're pliant in his arms, succumbing to every kiss and drag of his fingers as you writhe around, overcome with the pleasure.

"Fuck- I'm close.." you mewl, and Jungkook can't help but smile to himself. Stealing a glance at your face, he watches with pride and fondness, the way your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and your pretty lips part to let his favourite sounds out. Moans and whimpers never sounded as good as they did coming from you, and Jungkook could listen to them all day and never get tired.

The gentle bite on your ear has you seeing stars and your hips buck erratically against Jungkook's hand as you find release. He holds you to him throughout it, still moving his fingers and helping you ride out your high until you eventually collapse back against his chest, panting as you catch your breath.

"Feel better?" Jungkook asks, massaging the flesh of your thigh in his palm. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, he had gone back to being your caring best friend. You hum in reply, still spent from the orgasm delivered by Jungkook and his skilled fingers.

With an arm around your waist, Jungkook leans forward to grab the remote, changing the movie to a comedy and settling back against the couch.

It was almost funny seeing Jungkook go straight back to watching a movie, looking so innocent as if he hadn't just given you an amazing orgasm with his fingers alone.

You feel the shake of his chest against your back as he laughs at something that happened on the TV, and if you were paying any attention at all you would know why it was funny and maybe even laugh along too.

But you were tired, and with the way Jungkook held you and cocooned you in his warmth, it didn't take long for you to fall asleep with your head buried in the crook of his neck, a gentle hand caressing your side.

"I hate you. I really really hate you."

You're seconds away from face planting on the ice, still doubled over in a fit of laughter as Jungkook glares daggers at you. He's holding onto the barricade for dear life when you straighten up and look over at him, a shit-eating grin on your face.

When Jungkook woke up this morning, he wasn't scared to go ice skating. He wasn't worried about falling and making a fool of himself, because he thought you'd be right there with him, but betrayal had slapped him in the face when you stepped on the ice and easily landed a Triple Lutz. He'd gawked at you while his friends laughed, putting their skates on and stepping onto the ice one at a time. Jungkook was last to come on, gripping the barricade tightly as he tried his best not to fall.

While your friends were doing laps of the rink, you decided to stick by your helpless best friend, trying to encourage him to take your hand.

"How do I know you won't betray me? Again."

You roll your eyes with a smile, backing away on your skates slowly and crossing your arms over your chest.

"Fine, I'll just go join everyone else."

You turn to push off but a scream and a pair of of arms around you has you fighting to stay upright as Jungkook clings onto you like a child. You dig your toe pick into the ice so you don't go barrelling towards the floor, but Jungkook around you was making it hard.

"Please don't leave me!" he begs, hugging your body tight.

You can't help but laugh, gently peeling his arms off of you and helping him stand up straight. His hands are a vice around yours, holding them desperately so he doesn't fall. Once he's stable, you try and ease him forward, showing him how to move forward. With the help of your hand holding his, Jungkook manages to skate a few metres before he clings back to the barricade muttering to himself about how stupid ice skating is.

"Come on, Kook. You can do it."

It was funny seeing someone like Jungkook, who was usually so confident and cocky, doing something out of his comfort zone. But you were patient with him, and eventually he was skating beside you, still clasping your hand tightly but you managed to do a few laps of the rink without falling.

You almost lost it when a little kid skated past you both with a teasing grin on his face.

"Jungkook stop!" You had exclaimed when he made a move to catch up with a kid. You grasp his arm, pulling him back towards you with a laugh.

"He's like five, let it go."

Still pissed off, Jungkook let you wrap your arm in his while you skated around. He hadn't expected you to stay with him the whole time, but you did.

"You never told me you skated," Jungkook says from beside you. The both of you had gone back to the stands for a little break, sipping on the juice boxes you'd bought earlier from the cafe inside the arena. Jungkook had progressed to skating on his own, and you watched with a smile as he did a lap by himself, crashing back into you when he came back, a massive grin on his face.

"I did figure skating for a few years when I was younger," you explain and Jungkook turns to you fully, both surprised and intrigued.

"I did a few skating competitions and I was pretty damn good, but I never tried to go bigger. I was still young and I didn't want to make my family move if I wasn't sure that was what I wanted to do with my life."

You don't regret not choosing to go pro, you were happy with your life and despite the opportunities you might have missed, you wouldn't go back and change it even if you could. You'd met people and made memories that were inimitable, and nothing would make you trade them.

"Wanna go back out?"

Beside you, Jungkook was waving his hands at your friends as they skated past. Only an hour ago he'd been complaining and now he was eager to go back out. You look over at Jungkook with a fond smile on your face. Inimitable.

Jumping up onto your skates, you stretch a hand out towards him. Jungkook takes it willingly, rising to his feet and wobbling a little which makes you laugh. With your hands intertwined, you make your way back to the ice.

hiiii hope you’re still here.. tbh i have no idea how to be a tumblr author like my posting is not consistent at all and i just have no clue what im doing half the time.. updates will be pretty slow for now im sorry :( but i love you for being patient, and hopefully i don’t disappoint you all..

this update was kind of just a filler, plus some background on our reader:) it was heavily inspired by the winter olympic figure skating 

next chapters are when the plot thickens <33

❀ taglist; 

@mwitsmejk @jxoni @rageyoudamnednerd  @hopeworldjimin @bbtsficrecs @riqi @libra04 @sugarkinky @bruisedscrewedandtattooed @nadzzzblog @twilight-loveer @hisunshiine @apollukee @betysotelo18 @chokoomilk @taeboludo @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @sojurmaine @shydestinyyouth @outropjmm @taepiper @jalexad @iaintnohollybackgirl @sugarkinky @sseorii @elliespurpleheart @jeonninja @doublebunnykoo @sseorii​ 

if i missed you pls yell at me!!!

[drabbles-mc]

Double or Nothing

Horacio Carrillo x F!Reader

Request by Anon: would you pls consider jealous Horacio??

Warnings: language, alcohol, Carrillo being a jealous lil dude

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: I think I have been staring at this for far too long and I’ve made myself start to dislike it.😅 However that being said, the thought of Carrillo being jealous pre-relationship because he likes you but is too much of a chicken to tell you but also hates the idea of anyone else having you?? That track slaps every time. Plus, you know I love to pepper in a little Javi for chaos purposes. 

Narcos Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @garbinge @bruxasolta @winchestershiresauce @sizzlingcloudmentality @alm0501 @panagiasikelia​ @616wilsons​ @hauntedforsst​ @mirabee​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

He could feel the tic in his jaw, the way his fingers involuntarily clenched into a fist at his side. His shoulders tensed and the more he tried to ignore the burning feeling growing in the back of his mind, the worse it became. And it only got worse when he thought about the fact that he had no right to feel how he was feeling, no right for him to have such a visceral reaction to the scene playing out in front of him.

You weren’t even doing anything wrong.

Before leaving work earlier that night, you’d mentioned to Carrillo in passing that a group of you from the embassy were all going out for drinks at a new bar that was only a few blocks away, a place that was supposed to have good drinks and a decent amount of space for a dancefloor. It was evident that he wasn’t super sold on the idea of spending extra time with a bunch of people from the embassy, but you told him that Javier was going to be there, along with Steve and Connie, and of course yourself.

You gave him a shrug, “Might be good for you to come out and have a little fun, hm?” you flashed him a smile before walking towards the door, “Think about it.”

The only reason he thought about it was because the smile you gave him nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs. The two of you had never really had a chance to talk to each other outside of work, the closest you’d gotten was when both of you stayed late and walked out to your cars at the same time. Even then, the conversations were short and he never pried about much, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He didn’t know what it was about you that made him so nervous, because he wasn’t one to second-guess himself. It wasn’t like you set out to make him nervous, either—you’d never been anything but kind, and professional. He didn’t know what it was.

Or, at least, that’s what he’d been able to tell himself until he walked into the bar and saw you talking and laughing with someone else. He didn’t have any room to lie to himself anymore, to plead ignorance about his own feelings.

He was about to turn around and walk right back out again. No one would’ve known that he even showed up in the first place, and he could just say that he hadn’t felt like going. And it’d have the added benefit of not putting him in the position of having to watch some other asshole from the embassy flirt with you.

He didn’t turn around quick enough, though, because Javier locked eyes with him before he could try to disappear back out the door. He waved his arm above his head, a smile on his face at the fact that Carrillo had actually showed up to something besides a raid or a mandatory meeting.

Swallowing his pride, Carrillo took a deep breath and made his way over to the end of the bar where everyone from the embassy was gathered. He managed to stay out of your line of sight, making a direct line over to Murphy and Peña. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you, but he hadn’t prepared himself for the onslaught of feelings he experienced when he saw you laughing and playfully bumping your shoulder against that of the man next to you.

Javier gave him a friendly pat on the back, “Guess I owe your girl there a round,” he shook his head with a laugh, “I bet her that there was no way you were gonna show up.”

Carrillo chuckled, trying not to stare at you, “You should be used to buying drinks for women at this point, Javier,” he paused, attempting to keep his expression and tone neutral as he asked, “New kid?” he nodded towards the man standing next to you.

Javier nodded before taking a sip of his whiskey, “Yea. He’s on the legal team with her—started a week or so ago I think. His name is…fuck. Steve, what’s his name?”

Steve shook his head, laughing at the fact that Javier seemed to have a conveniently selective memory when it came to whose names he remembered, “David.”

Carrillo clenched his jaw. Fuck David.

Javier nodded, “That’s right. Yea. They’re two peas in a goddamn pod now,” he chuckled.

Steve saw the look on Javier’s face and rolled his eyes, “Still bettin’ that she’s gonna say no when he asks her out.”

Now it was Javier’s turn to shake his head, “He’s never gonna actually do it. He’s not gonna risk getting rejected and having to sit at a goddamn desk next to her.”

Connie listened to the two of them bantering back and forth, listening as she silently shook her head. Steve saw the smirk curling at the edge of her lips, though, and immediately asked what her take was on the situation. Taking a long sip of her drink, she thought carefully about her answer, “It just seems like she’s having a pretty good time with him over there, that’s all. I wouldn’t count him out just yet.”

They were all laughing amongst themselves, but the entire exchange had Carrillo’s mind reeling. When he watched the way you laughed, the way you bit lightly on your bottom lip as you shook your head at whatever David was saying to you, he knew that Connie was right. You looked so happy. And as much as he wanted to go and break it all up, to go and say something, anything to you, he felt like he couldn’t will his feet to move.

You were torn away from your conversation by the sound of Javier calling your name. Raising your eyebrows, you replied, “Yea, Jav?”

He gestured to Carrillo, “You win, next round on me!”

You laughed but you couldn’t hide the excitement you felt when you saw Carrillo standing with them. Hopping down off your stool, you walked over to greet him. You couldn’t believe that you’d missed him coming in in the first place. You hoped that he hadn’t been there too long, since you had been the one who invited him. You almost hugged him, but stopped yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. The Colonel had never given you an overly affectionate vibe, despite how nice he was during your interactions at work.

“I’m so glad you made it!”

The knot in his stomach loosened slightly when he took in the way you were smiling at him. Your face was flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the heat trapped inside the club, maybe both. Either way, you looked beautiful. A different kind of beautiful than how you looked when you were working.

“Heard you had a round of drinks riding on it,” his smile was small, but genuine.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “That’s not why I’m glad. Oh, hang on, wait here,” you flitted back over to David, bringing him over to officially introduce the two of them, “David, this is who I was telling you about. This is Colonel Carrillo, hands-down the toughest man in Colombia,” your smile was impossible not to love.

David chuckled at your enthusiastic introduction of the man you’d mentioned to him a few times in passing, always with respect and admiration, “Nice to meet you,” he reached out to shake his hand.

Carrillo couldn’t hide the fact that he was sizing up the younger man standing in front of him. His grasp on David’s hand was firm, “Nice to meet you.”

If David felt anxious under the weight of the Colonel’s gaze, he didn’t show it in the slightest. You broke the staring contest that you hadn’t realized was happening by giving David a light squeeze on the arm, “Come on, you said you’d dance with me!”

It was evident that Carrillo wasn’t the only one who had showed up that night with the inability to say no to you. David let you pull him out towards the dancefloor, smiles on both of your faces, leaving Carrillo there absolutely dumbfounded. You made it look so easy.

“Be safe out there, kids!” Javi called after the two of you with a laugh. Turning back to Carrillo, Javi gave him a nod, “So, what was the magic pitch she gave you to get you out here?”

Steve laughed, “Maybe she’s just easier to say yes to, Javi, ever think of that?”

They all laughed before Steve and Connie made their way to the dancefloor as well, and Carrillo internally thanked Steve for saving him from having to come up with an answer to Javier’s question that wouldn’t expose the fact that the only reason he needed to say yes was just the thought of you even wanting him to be there. He tried to keep himself busy, ordering himself a drink in attempt not to stare at you. It was nearly impossible for him to not look at the two of you out on the dancefloor, and his blood boiled when he saw how close David had pulled you to him, how much you seemed to enjoy it.

His discontent was showing on his face clearer than he realized. Peña clapped him on the shoulder, “We’re off the clock, Carrillo. Lighten up a bit.” The Colonel nodded, but he wasn’t able to force the tension out of his body, and Javier picked up on that immediately. Arching one eyebrow, he asked, “What’s the problem?”

Carrillo shook his head, letting his gaze linger on you for just a moment too long, “Nothing.”

Javier followed where Carrillo had just been looking, and when the realization hit him, he couldn’t stop the surprise from showing in every feature of his face. He’d never seen the colonel express much interest in anyone in a romantic context, not even hearing him make a comment about a woman being attractive in passing. It was hard to picture the man being jealous, and yet, there he was. Javi nodded slowly, trying to figure out what to say.

“Drop it, Peña,” Carrillo spoke up before the other man could.

“She’s got no idea, you know.”

“Good,” he replied, his grip on the glass in his hand tightening.

He shook his head, “You won’t know unless you—”

“I said to drop it,” he took a sip of his drink, trying to distract himself and failing miserably.

It would’ve been different, maybe, if you didn’t look like you were having such a good time with someone else. Your smile brightened up the entire place as you swayed to the music, leaning into the man whose hands were situated so comfortably on your hips. Even though it twisted Carrillo up from the inside out, he wasn’t going to be the one to take that kind of enjoyment away from you.

“Ask her next time she comes back for a drink,” now that Javier knew, he was going to be like a dog with a bone.

“What?”

“When she comes back for a drink,” Javier nodded in your direction, “ask her to dance,” he saw Carrillo open his mouth to argue, “Or I can do it for you. And you don’t want that.”

Carrillo didn’t give any response other than another shake of his head. A smirk lingered on Javier’s face, and he should’ve known that that meant nothing but trouble for him. The two of them made conversation with a few of the others who had shown up for the night, and Carrillo forgot all about Javi’s persistence as he tried not to focus more attention on you than he already had.

A few songs later, you made your way back over to the bar to get another drink. David wasn’t far behind you, and Carrillo was shaking his head before he could even stop himself. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the feeling of Javi nudging him. He didn’t say anything, just looking back and forth expectantly between you and the colonel, making it clear that this was Carrillo’s last chance to do something on his own before Javi intervened.

Carrillo gave a dismissive shake of his head. Whether it was meant to call Javier on his bluff or not, it didn’t matter. Before Carrillo could get a word out to try and stop him, Javi was slipping through the clusters of people to land himself next to you at the bar. Carrillo watched intently, unable to move himself from his seat. It was like a trainwreck happening in front of him and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

You felt the arm drape around your shoulder, and when you turned and looked, you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you saw it was Javier. You laughed, leaning into him slightly as you asked, “Something I can help you with, Agent Peña?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Please don’t call me that when we’re off the clock,” when your laughter quieted, he continued, “Up for a double-or-nothing bet?”

You smiled, “Owing me one round of drinks wasn’t good enough for you? You wanna owe me two?”

“I think I’ve got you on this one, sweetheart.”

You laughed, “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Alright. Double or nothing, you can’t get Carrillo out onto the dancefloor tonight.”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly but not hating the prospect of the bet, “Do you always have so many bets involving Carrillo?”

His mouth twisted into a smug little smirk that you’d come to recognize so well, “Only with people who I think get just as much enjoyment out of it as I do.”

Your cheeks warmed at the comment, knowing that it was a joke but also a little bit of a call-out. Throwing back the rest of your drink, you gave him a nod, “Your tab is gonna be hurting at the end of the night tonight, Peña.”

You slipped out from underneath his arm and started to collapse the distance between you and Carrillo. Since your back was to him, you didn’t see the satisfied grin and nod that Javier sent the other man’s way, basking in the glory of the moment he had just constructed.

“Hey,” you leaned against the table next to Carrillo, whose expression you couldn’t quite figure out, “I have a question for you.”

He had an idea of where this was all going, but he couldn’t let you know what, “What’s that?”

“How would you feel about helping me win another bet against Peña?”

He let out a chuckle, one that could be disguised as amusement from your question, but it was actually him being slightly impressed by how Javier had decided to go about the entire thing. Trying to prevent himself from shooting Javi a look, he focused his eyes on you, not that it was too difficult for him to do, “What’s the bet?”

“He said that I wouldn’t be able to get you out onto the dancefloor before the night is over,” you chuckled as you leaned against his arm a little, “And I know you’re not the kind of man who backs down from a challenge.”

There was something about the way you were looking at him as you said that, that sent a jolt throughout his whole body. He tried to contain it, offering you a small smile, “I’m not, no,” he cast a glance over to the bar where he saw David standing, watching the two of you with interest clearly written all over his face, “He won’t be upset?” he nodded towards the man in question.

You looked where he was looking, laughter spilling out of you when you saw who he was talking about, “David? God, no,” you shook your head, “Trust me, he’s not going to have any problem finding another girl to occupy his time.”

Carrillo hated how much comfort he found in your immediate dismissal, like the idea of you and David together was outlandish. He had no right to feel a sense of victory in it, but he did.

You saw the gears turning in his mind, and you held out your hand for him to take, “C’mon, you’re already here, right?”

Not that he planned on saying no to you in the first place, but he was powerless to turn you down once you held your hand out. He chuckled as he set his glass down and slid his hand into yours, trying to memorize the way you sounded as you laughed and tugged him towards the dancefloor. If you wanted to think that it was all for a bet, he wasn’t going to try and convince you otherwise.

You’d never thought much about whether or not Carrillo was a good dancer. You never had a reason to until you were pulling him across the club. He hadn’t hesitated, though, which led you to believe that maybe he was good with more than just a gun.

The hesitancy and nerves that had plagued him for so long, lingering in every interaction that he had with you, all seemed to disappear. He really couldn’t afford to be afraid now. The second your hands came to rest on his shoulders, fingers lacing just barely on the back of his neck, the chance to be this close to you became much more important than any of the worries he’d ever had before. His arms looped around your waist, careful not to stray too low—after all, he was still a gentleman.

You’d been out dancing plenty of times, and had your fair share of dance partners in the process. However, there was something about the ease with which Carrillo maneuvered the two of you that wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced before. It was like he didn’t even have to think about it. For a man who had always seemed so rigid at work, even a little uptight at times if you were being honest, he certainly didn’t carry it with him into the club that night. Apparently, in the time before you knew him, he’d had plenty of experience actually going out and having a good time.

He saw the smile on your face, the sparkle in your eyes, “What?”

You shook your head, cheeks warming as you tried to think of how you wanted to answer that question, “I just, I didn’t know,” it was hard to think about anything other than the feeling of his hands on your hips, “You never mentioned that you could dance.”

It was the first real laugh of his that you’d ever heard, a sound that was going to be burned into your memory banks going forward, “You never asked.”

You were about to come back with a witty response when he gave you a quick twirl, causing you to laugh, soaking up the moment as his hands sild right back down to your hips again once you were back close to him. Shaking your head, you asked, “Any other skills I should know about?”

You could see it in his eyes for a moment that he thought about saying something to answer your question, but instead he wrapped his arm a little tighter around you, pulling you so that your chest was flush against his. It wasn’t that you minded the gesture, but he’d never been that close with you before, and it caught you off-guard. You refocused on him, expecting to see him looking back at you, but instead his gaze fell behind you. Turning to look over your shoulder, you saw David, the look on his face clearly conveying that he was intrigued by the turn of events.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out,” he tried to focus on you, but he couldn’t help but to let his gaze flicker to Carrillo, who was all but boring holes into him with his eyes.

“Oh, okay!” you stepped out of Carrillo’s arms, and you were sure that you were imagining it, but it almost felt like he didn’t want to let you go. Wrapping David in a quick hug, you said goodbye, “Get home safe, alright? I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday,” the smile faded just slightly when he looked to Carrillo, “Nice meeting you.”

Carrillo’s arm was already snaking around your waist again as he spoke, “You too.”

This time you really got to watch the two of them interact. The man who had been dancing with you was not the same man who was all but giving David a wordless ultimatum. You saw the tension in his jaw, the way he nodded slightly in dismissal of the young man in front of him. Carrillo’s eyes stayed on him until he reached the door of the club, and you truly couldn’t believe that you’d just watched all of that play out.

“Hey,” your voice, although not loud, still came in clear to him over the rest of the noise of the club, “you alright?”

His gaze snapped back to you, body easing slightly, “Of course.”

Arching one eyebrow, you placed one palm flat against his chest, “You sure?” you let out a quiet chuckle, “You’re watching him like he’s a suspect.” Being called out so directly by you made him loosen his hold on your waist a little, eyes dropping down to the floor for all of a moment, “Did I miss something?”

All the confidence he’d had swaying you to the music disappeared in a snap. “No,” he finally forced out an answer to your question.

“Hey,” you waited for him to look you in the eye, “You’re not a good liar, Horacio.”

It hit him that you’d never called him by his first name before. He wracked his mind trying to come up with a response, “It’s nothing.”

You laughed, stepping back from him a little bit to get a better look at him, “Nothing? Are you sure? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at someone like that. What’d you think he was going to do, break up our dance?” you said it with a laugh but there was a beat of hesitation on his end and a smile instantly took over your features, “Did you?”

“It’s not…like that.”

You chuckled, not convinced, “Then what’s it like?”

He should’ve known better than to think this was going to go smoothly. He never should’ve come out for the night. His mind was already working overtime trying to plan an escape route. “I should,” his eyes darted towards the door, “I should go.”

The smile dropped from your face, and you reached forward and grabbed his hand before he could get too far from you, “Horacio, wait,” you pulled, more propelling yourself towards him than pulling him back towards you, “You…you can’t just leave. Come on, I, I was kidding.”

He saw the pleading look on your face, “I know you were.” He didn’t have the guts to say but I wasn’t, hoping that you would just know.

“Then don’t leave. Please. I…I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

“Me either,” he didn’t know why that was so hard for him to admit to you.

Reassurance flooded through you at that, “Then stay. At least for one more song.”

You saw it in his eyes the moment he decided not to leave. Relaxing his shoulders, he let you draw him back towards the center of the dancefloor. He held you a little closer than he had before, and you didn’t comment on it, not minding it in the slightest.

One song easily turned into more than that, and before you knew it, the two of you found yourselves back at the bar ordering drinks again. You looked over at him, a smile on your face, “You know,” you chuckled, feeling a little braver than maybe you should’ve, “jealous is a different look on you.”

His eyes widened as he looked over at you, “What?”

You smiled, shaking your head, “It’s fine. I just, you know, I didn’t expect that. I didn’t see it coming.”

He wanted to argue, but the last of his resolve slipped away as he watched you sip so casually on your drink, “That obvious?”

“You looked like you were about to strangle the other half of my legal team,” you laughed, seeing the embarrassment creeping into his features, “All that from a guy who didn’t even want to come out tonight.”

He let out an embarrassed chuckle, “Sorry.”

“You’d only have to apologize if you actually strangled him,” you flashed him a smile before moving closer to him, your arm pressing against his, “I like you, you know,” never in a million years did you think you would ever be saying that to him, but nothing about the night felt real so what was the worst that could come of this?

He tilted his head, clearly surprised, “You do?”

You laughed, nodding, “Yea. That’s…that’s why I invited you out in the first place. Just, you know, wanted a reason to see you outside of work.”

“Oh,” he pondered over the statement.

“Yea,” your face felt hot all over again.

He stared down into the glass in his hands like it was going to give him the right thing to say next, “Could I take you to dinner?”

Your eyes widened, “Wh-uh, yea. Yes. That’d…yes. I’d like that.”

“Tomorrow?”

You laughed, nodding, “Tomorrow works.”

A smile was tugging at the edges of his mouth, and his voice had a softer tone than it had all night, or any other time you’d spoken to him, “Okay. Tomorrow.”

You could hardly bear the amount of butterflies in your stomach, “Tomorrow.

Carrillo looked over at you, a shy smile on his face despite everything that had just happened. His fingers drummed on the outside of his glass as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say or do next. You, on the other hand, figured that there was no time like the present to just go for broke. Turning so that you were facing him directly, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. You could feel the shocked response he gave you, but it only took him a second to catch up and lean into you. His lips tasted like whiskey and while you’d never been a fan, you were certain that there was nothing you loved more than that in that moment. Your hand gripped onto his bicep as his lips continued to move against yours, and for a moment you forgot you were at the bar in the middle of a crowded club.

Pulling away, you let out a breathless, slightly embarrassed laugh, “Sorry,” you shook your head, “I just, I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

Carrillo had a bit of a dazed look on his face as he chuckled, “Don’t apologize.”

[justyouraverageficwriter]

Melting ~

Mina x Male Reader

Part 2 of 3

Read Part 1 here.

She is still there, standing and waiting for a reply for her question. Although concern was written on her face in reaction to your sudden flinching. You pinched yourself too hard of course. Obviously, you don't want her to know that since it will be really weird. You told her you just felt something bit you and assured her you are okay. However, deep inside you are in a state of limbo, you still could not think straight. Do you want to grab the chance to accompany her? Or will you chicken your way out for not having the courage once again? Your mind was calculating possible effects of the actions you're going to take. Will you come with her and risk exposing your feelings for her? Surely this is just some casual invitation. No more no less.

"I guess you have other plans, huh?" Mina said to break the silence.

The voice grounded you.

"I- ah uh", you stammered like you do not know how to talk.

She gave you all her attention.

"I would love to go with you", there you said it.

A wave of relief hits you as you feel the night breeze on your skin. You realized how much this girl in front of you affects your emotions.

"Really? Let's go then!", she smiled as she grabbed your arms and dragged you.

It's gonna be an interesting night.

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The night progressed more smoothly than you expected. You thought people will jeer at you with the sight of Mina and you together. However, people seem happy to mind their own businesses. Occasionally, some guy will dart his eyes on you but that's the most of it. Mina seems to enjoy visiting other booths and trying some of the things they offer. You found yourself drinking the juice she bought because she is curious. She did not like it. You won her a cute teddy bear as a prize of a shooting game you participated. You are happy just seeing her happy. You relaxed your usual defensive approach towards her. You are just gonna go with the flow tonight because it may not happen again. You continue on your way.

Time flew and just like that it was close to 10 PM. She noticed the time as well and suggested you start heading back to your Department's booths. You were gone a long time and both of you laughed at the fact the the sunbaes will be mad. On your way back, you noticed she is feeling cold. She is wearing shorts on a cold night. You took off the university jacket you are wearing and stopped her from walking.

"Why are you wearing shorts? It's cold", as you wrapped the jacket around her waist.

"I know right! Silly me!", she answered shyly.

"I hope it fights the cold a bit", you added.

"It does! Thank you (yn)!", she answered with a huge grin.

"Let's get going then", you tried your best not to sound elated.

You got back to your booths and noticed they are talking among themselves. It seems like they are closing the stands. You are late to realize that all eyes were on you two arriving together. You tried to play cool. You are internally panicking. What if they tease you? Will it create a weird feeling between you an Mina?

"We were texting you both since earlier and none of you replied. We are starting to get worried", Jihyo said annoyed and worried at the same time.

Right! You realized you did not ever bother checking your phone all the time you were with Mina. You looked at her as she rummaged her bag for her phone. She did not check it as well.

"Joesonghamnida sunbaenim! We were busy visiting other booths that we forgot to check our phones", you said as you bowed your head.

Mina noticed you and bowed her head as well.

"It's okay. You're both her now. Are the other booths fun?", Jihyo asked.

Mina told Jihyo on what booths you visited while you retreated at the back. Thinking your time together ended, you could not help but feel sad. It was short but surely you will treasure it. You are proud for doing something. You are proud you did not blow it up.

Not long after, the seniors decided it's time to clean up for the night. The festival is two days so you'll gonna be back tomorrow. Cleaning was completed quickly as each of you want to go home and rest. You helped with the disposal of the trash. There were two bags, you picked up one and as you pick up try to pick up the other, Mina grabbed it.

"Let me help", she said.

Half of you wants to protest while the other half wants her to help you because you will be together to throw the trash.

"Are you sure?", the courageous side won.

She picked it up and off you went to the trash can.

"Thanks for accompanying me tonight by the way", she said.

It was one of the best sentences you ever heard in your life.

"Sure, I had fun myself too. Thanks!", a sense of pride is evident.

She smiled as both of you accomplished your task and head back. You are on the moon. You were the happiest man at that moment. That simple thanks from her is enough to make you feel like it's the best treat a man can ever have. The word happy is a huge understatement. But just as you went flying to the moon, you were dragged back down to Earth. You saw Seehon.

"Annyeonghaseyo", he greeted.

"Hi Mina! Can I talk to you?", he continued.

The vibe was different. Of course it's Sehoon you thought. Some girls of your department with their sparkling eyes urged Mina to go and talk. You turn your attention to something else not wanting to follow what was happening. You are faced with the reality once again. You are nothing compared to Sehoon. All you knew next was Mina went with Sehoon to who knows where. You're night was done. You hold on up until the last goodbyes were exchanges between you and the other Architecture students. Right after, you just let a huge sigh. With your head down and a heavy heart, you went home that night defeated.

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

The next day.

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Much was realized after last night. That's what happens if you let your guard down. You were too busy being happy that you forgot that reality most of the time goes against you. So today you decided to just take a step back and continue to watch her from afar again. That is the best thing to do. You mind wonders to these kinds of thought as you make your way to your booth. Absentmindedly, you bumped into Nayeon. Fortunately, the impact was not that hard.

"Yah! Watch where you're going", said Nayeon.

"I'm sorry sunbae!", you apologized immediately.

Nayeon realizing it was you smiled. You know immediately it's not good.

"Sorry is not gonna cut it you know!", she said playfully.

"I apologize again sunbae", trying your way out.

"I said sorry is not gonna cut it. If you really want to apologize, you have to come with me visit the other booths", she knew she won.

"But -", you tried to reason out.

"No buts", she placed a finger on you lips.

Alright you know many of the guys in campus will kill to take the position that you are in. Im Nayeon is a certified hottie in campus. However, you view her as a senior nothing more, nothing less. But reasoning is a lost cause against her. That's what you get from being absent minded.

The day rolled with you accompanying Nayeon to everywhere she want to go. Halfheartedly you follow her. You watched the idol groups that perform on the festival. You ate, and played. Sometimes, you reminded her that you were supposed to be at the burger stand but she constantly shut you down. She excused you from Jihyo. Fortunately, she got bored after a while and suggested you head back.

"We're back", said Nayeon.

Jihyo looked a bit annoyed so you immediately replaced her on cooking the burgers. Mina is still taking the orders. You did not exchange greetings which is odd but it maybe because she is busy taking orders. The day continues as you cook burgers until evening. Jihyo's boyfriend came again to help and replace you. Mina as well took a rest. You were itching to go and talk to her but you remember what you decided this morning. She is sitting on the table where you take your rests. You took your place at the end of the table keeping your distance. She did not seemed to mind you at first.

Silence follows. Both of you were just on your phones. You could feel your heart on your throat. Is there anything wrong? Your mind was once again racing with thoughts. Your curiosity got the better of you.

"Is there anything wrong? You seem to be quiet.", you asked cautiously.

"No, I am just tired", she replied.

You could sense coldness in her voice. Annoyed maybe?

"I'm sorry for asking. Great job out there!", you tried avert the topic.

She nodded in response. Sensing it's not a good time to be there you thought of leaving the table. However, before you can stand up she stood up and walked towards the entrance. Before putting one feet out she turned.

"You know I just don't understand you!", she said trying to hold back her tears.

What? Those words doesn't make any sense to you. You can't even start to comprehend her words. What have you done to her for her to say those words? Before you can formulate something in response she walked out and was gone. You tried to find her but could not. Tried to call her but she does not answer. You are worried and most of all confused.

"Relax and think, (yn)!", you muttered alone.

You do not want this night to end without answers. Then idea struck. You started running like you never ran before in your life.

~To be continued~

A/N: It seems it going to be a three part story. Thanks for making your way to end of the episode.

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

[casuallyimagining]

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae​, and @hoebii​​ for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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Taglist: @min-yus, @melindagrace31, @shrimpmsg, @ghostkat23, @demcreeps, @ggsmashgg, @findingourtreasure, @20emma0, @springbean​, @black-rose-29, @cuteipat, @agustneeds, @deeepvibes, @yzkyzkuniverse, @softbbyg0rl​

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

idk if you’re taking mad thomas requests but if you are can i request i’ve where he likes reader because she’s the only one who doesn’t treat him like a outcast and isn’t repulsed by him like the other townsfolk

This ask was so sweet here you go :)

Kind Gestures (Mad Thomas x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, developing relationship, confessions, mentions of drinking, partying and taking the berries, outcast!Thomas,

Word Count: 1.6k

"Good day, Thomas. Rough night?" You asked, looking down at where he laid on the hay covered ground.

Thomas, or Mad Thomas as the townspeople called him, was a man who was drunk more often than not. And, when he wasn't, it was usually because he had just woken up.

You were in your father's chicken coup, ready to finish your morning chores, but a familiar man was sleeping in it. He blinked up at you, and reached to rub his eyes. Silently, you were relieved. When you'd walked in and a chicken had been pecking at him, you'd almost thought him dead. From the way he shielded his eyes, you guessed the streams of sunlight were probably too much for the headache he had, and you watched as he smacked his lips. You asked,

"Thirsty?" And he squinted his eyes up at you and said a simple,

"Aye." You gave him a smile, and reached for your pouch. He sat up, groaning as he did, before he took it from you. You watched as he took a swig, and silently you wondered when the last time he drank any water was. You didn't say a word as he finished the pouch, and you took it back as you said,

"I don't mind you sleeping here, but I'm sure my father would." You started, walking away to begin checking each of the baskets to see if they had anything for you this morning. "There's some breakfast left if you're hungry." You offered, hoping that would stir him enough to get up.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the rustle of clothes, and you glanced over to watch him as he stood. Finally, he said,

"I don't need your charity." And your smile only grew. After all the years of you offering things to him, it was almost a tradition now. A routine. You placed the eggs in your basket, and looked over at him as you said,

"Think of it as a kind gesture." And you watched the corner of his lips turn up.

***

Your head turned when you heard someone clear their throat, and your eyes glanced down first to the wildflower someone was holding out for you. Quickly, your eyes flicked up, and, to your surprise, it was Thomas that was offering it to you.

"Yes, Thomas?" You asked him, a flicker of confusion went through your face, before you placed your bucket on the well. You took the flower, and watched as his shoulders relaxed. It was a strange sight, a sight that made you wonder.

"Just- For you." He said, waving at the thing. You smiled, quickly guessing that it was a repayment for this morning. You gave him a nod in thanks, and he turned away. You watched him stumble, and, immediately, you wrote it off. It made you smile to yourself a bit at the gesture, and you placed it in the strap of your apron as you went back to drawing water from the well.

You weren't alone for long. Couldn't be, in a town as small as Union. Lizzie was quick to come up to you, to grab your arm and whisper,

"What was that?" And you gave her a look. She was the towns gossip, and one of your friends. You knew she'd seen Thomas give you the flower, but, as you reached down to touch it, you couldn't find a thing wrong with the gesture.

"He was just giving me a gift, Lizzie. Nothing more." You told her, but you watched the way disgust clouded her face. You frowned, watching as she glanced over at the man. You loved her, dearly, but you wished the people of Union weren't so plagued with distaste for him.

"Looks as if he was trying to court you." She commented, and the idea- Well, it struck you. You glanced down at the flower, then at Thomas. He had been strange, hadn't he? You thought to yourself, but quickly discarded the idea. He wouldn't. The idea was preposterous. "Next, you'll be inviting him to the full moon." She said, and you lifted a brow at her, at the idea. It wasn't a bad one. And, maybe it was what everyone needed to finally understand him. You looked over at her, giving her a small smile. You watched how her face fell, watched the small shake she gave you. "No." But you continued to stare. "No!" She shout-whispered, but all you did was tilt your head and look away. "Tell me you won't!" She demanded, her voice hushed. You could feel her stare, even as you made the plans to invite him before nightfall. You didn't say a word as you untied your bucket.

***

All of the children were celebrating on the full moon. Or, well, the ones caught between youth and adulthood. And, well, only the ones that were invited.

You all went to a clearing in the woods, where you could drink, eat, and have fun without the watchful eyes of your parents, or those that would tell your parents.

You liked to think that that was the only reason Thomas had never been invited.

"Don't you know they won't want me there, girl?" Thomas asked as he followed you through the forest. It'd been easy to find him, but surprisingly hard to convince him. He trailed behind you as if he had other things he'd rather attend. You couldn't imagine he'd get much conversation from your chickens. The pair of you were already late just from having him trail behind, and you walked through the dark forest with only your lantern to guide you.

"That's not true, Thomas." You said, glancing behind you. You watched as he walked, as slow as a snake through the grass. He climbed past one of the trees, his hand on it as he stepped closer. He gave you a look, and you could already guess the words that were going to come out of his mouth.

"Liar." He said, pointing at you. His tone made you smile. You paused, giving him a look back as you waited for him to catch up. You stared at him as he did, watching him as he said, "Lying's a sin, you know." He said, and you scoffed a laugh. You hadn't realized how close he'd come until you felt his hand on your chin, and you were quick to look back to him. He was close, barely a step away, and, even in the dark, you could see his clear blue eyes staring straight at you. Practically as if they could look straight into your soul. "What is the truth then, girl?" He asked, and you stared up at him. You gulped, pushing away the flutter of nervousness the touch brought. The flutter in your stomach with him being so close. You looked away from him again, and took a step towards the trail. You didn't look at him as you said,

"I'd like you to be there." You said, and the words felt too honest on your tongue. Especially when you could see the gathering in this distance. Quickly, you added, "You can protect me from Caleb." To soften your admittance. You smiled when you heard him laugh, and you glanced behind you to see it on his face.

"If you wish to be protected, then why go? Why not stay home?" He said, and you felt his hand, large and warm, reach to hold your wrist. It was a bold gesture, and the pair of you paused. You could hear the sounds of music, see the firelight in the distance. You were only a little bit away from the party, and yet you felt as though there was a whole world between you when you looked back to him. His eyes were on you again, and you practically shrunk under their weight. Finally, you asked,

"Why follow me if you don't you want to go, Thomas?" It was a fair question, one you hadn't asked yet that night. Thomas didn't say anything for a moment, and you sucked in a small breath when he reached to brush your hair from your face. His hand was slow and gentle, his fingers brushing against your cheek as they did.

"You asked me." He said, and, for a moment, you didn't get his meaning. Then, you did. You thought maybe it was the drink, but you'd seen him drunk. You knew he was barely tipsy, sober enough to get through the forest. You opened your mouth to say something, but words escaped you. The only thing you could think of were Lizzie's words from earlier. Looks as if he was trying to court you. Finally, you asked,

"Why did you give me that flower?" It was the top of a list of things you'd never truly thought about. Why did he always find his sleep on your property? In places you'd find him? Why did he have breakfast with you more mornings than not? Why, whenever you looked for him, was he always there? And, with an amount of honesty you could never possess, he said,

"I like you." And your mouth fell for just a moment, just the tiniest bit. He continued, "You're kind to me. No one else is." And you were silenced by his confession. You stared at him, feelings roaring in your chest but your voice was missing. Thomas didn't seem to mind. He laughed a bit at your stunned face, before he glanced at the fire-light. Thomas let your wrist slip from his hand. "Come." He said, nodding towards the light. "They've already seen the lantern." He gestured for you to follow him towards the full moon celebration. And, for the first time, you truly didn't understand him.

[baecvlt]

Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader

this was requested via my twitter:

“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”

a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)

warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)

• • •

It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.

Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.

A moving van?

Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.

He was “going for a walk”.

Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—

“Hi!”

She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.

“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”

“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”

“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”

He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.

“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”

One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.

“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”

“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”

“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”

She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.

She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.

“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”

“Academic scholarships”

“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”

The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’m already so full”

“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”

“What’s that?”

“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”

Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.

“Goodnight, you”

Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡

“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”

He nodded.

She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”

“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”

“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”

“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”

“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”

“G-Goodnight”

He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.

He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.

“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”

Just more to add to his notebook.

He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”

Oh, thank god.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”

“Great. See you then!”

He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.

“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”

“Okay, mom”

She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”

“Bastard”

“Nessa”

“I guess I walked right into that one”

Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.

“Hey, its okay not to understand things”

Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.

Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.

“I’m tired, but class was okay”

“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”

“Thanks”

Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.

“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”

“Oh, you’re just saying things...”

“No, really! Thank you”

He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.

The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.

“Were you following me yesterday?”

Shit.

“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.

“—What do you want?”

None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.

“I’m sorry”

“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”

Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.

“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”

“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.

He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.

“This is your first time, isn’t it?”

He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.

“Do you know what to do with them?”

He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.

He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.

That was a mistake.

“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.

“You’re so sensitive there”

She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.

“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”

She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.

“Y-Yes..”

“Where do you wanna cum?”

“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”

She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.

“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”

“C-Can I?”

“Yes, dummy”

She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.

“I’d love that actually”

“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”

“I feel so lucky”

He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.