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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

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The Island | KTH (Ten)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, public fingering, slow sex in the form of a flashback, making out, dirty talk, oral (male rec.)

Notes: Here’s chapter 10:) Next chapter is the chapter most of you are really anticipating hahah sorry it isn’t this one! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

Previous---Next

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Being really fucking nervous is actually the understatement of the century. You wish there was a better word to describe how you feel. Afraid, concerned, on edge, hesitant, jittery, jumpy, shy, tense, uneasy…you get the point. Meeting Taehyung’s parents is already a nerve wracking experience but in this situation it is even worse—you are the reason their son went into a major fucking depression for 6 months.

Taehyung has a big smile on his face though…he looks genuinely excited and not the least bit concerned. You on the other hand feel sick to your stomach, you feel like you have to gulp down literal puke every five minutes…or maybe every five seconds. Your hands are pooling with a gross amount of sweat and your stomach keeps twisting and turning.

“And my mom makes little sandwiches for us, like all the time.” Taehyung grins, he squeezes your hand in his as you two approach his parents’ house. “You ready?”

You feel the anxiety build, making you nauseas all over again.

“Sure.” You swallow down your nerves, looking up at Taehyung with worried eyes. His smile begins to fade as he observes you, he exhales a deep breath and lets go of your hand.

“Try to relax.” His hand goes to your hair, his fingers playing with it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it was going to go all wrong.” He says softly. “You have to trust me, remember?”

“Right…” you nod your head slowly. “You wouldn’t bring me to a place that people would hate me, right…” you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“y/n…” Taehyung reaches for your hand again, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “They don’t blame you.” He says under his breath. “I’m a grown ass man, I let myself go. Not you.”

“You can’t really be that naïve, Taehyung?” You breathe out, “At least one person blames me, that knows that I didn’t reach out to you—”

“I said to trust me, didn’t I?” Taehyung snaps, but he keeps his voice low. “I talked to my parents about bringing you over and they want to meet the girl from the photos. They rooted for us the entire time.” He tries to offer you a smile but you keep the frown that pulls down your lips.

“Why would they root for us…they don’t even know me.” You say quietly and Taehyung suddenly pulls you close, hugging you.

“Because they saw how happy we looked together. You saw the photos, right? You have to admit we make a cute couple.” He teases, holding you close.

“C-Couple…are we a couple?” you pull away from him slightly, you look into his dark eyes and give him a look that urges him to answer you.

“You’re asking if I’m like, your boyfriend?” he tilts his head, then he is pulling you back in, hugging you tightly. “I guess we really haven’t had that discussion yet.”

“Taehyung—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?” He speaks lowly, his baritone voice vibrating his chest as your head is pushed up against it. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” he sort of repeats and you feel your heart skip a beat—several in fact.

“You…you want me to be your girlfriend? But you won’t even kiss me?” you mumble into his chest.

Taehyung sighs out, he’s tired. Really tired of this same conversation. But he tries to be understanding of you and holds you even tighter.

“Remember we are taking it slow,” he reminds you. “But I’m yours. And you’re mine. So of course we are a couple. I’m your boyfriend…you’re my girlfriend.” He spells it out for you, “And that’s how we will introduce the other.”

You pull back from Taehyung and look into his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes. You take a moment to let your eyes linger on his. They’re brown. But so much prettier than any other brown you’ve seen, they’re deeper. Like they hold so much mystery. You see the season of Autumn in his eyes. Like summer just ended, like the warmth of the sun still lingers. They’re the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Like you are doing right now.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” You mumble shyly and Taehyung’s hands find your waist.

“You’re cute.” He states, “Too cute for me.” He squeezes your waist and you slowly close your eyes at how good it feels to have his hands on you.

“Don’t do that.” Taehyung warns. “I know that look.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say with your eyes still closed, his hands now lowering themselves to your hips.

“I know what you look like when you want to get fucked y/n.” he starts to massage your hips and you can’t help but let a small, small moan leave your lips.

“Fuck…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath as he watches you get worked up. “Will this relax you?” he asks, his voice low. “If I get you off?”

“W-What do you mean?” your eyes shoot open, “We’re outside your parents’ house.”

“And?” he raises a brow, his hand going to the button of your jeans, he unbuttons it with one hand. “There’s hardly anyone around here.” He slides down the zipper and you begin to frantically shake your head, trying to stop him. But you fail miserably. Apparently shaking your head wasn’t enough.

“Tae…there’s people walking.”

“Barely.” He looks around his surroundings. “You’re going to come all over my fingers, okay?”

Your eyes dart all around you but he’s right, the people are kind of far and not paying attention to you.

“Okay…” you agree breathlessly. Taehyung slips his long fingers into your pants, sliding beneath your panties and going straight for where your needy ass self wants him most. With his free hand, Taehyung pushes you against the gate of his parents’ house and covers you with his body. His fingers find your clit and he starts to rub slowly, trying to get you wetter. This goes on a for a minute or two before you are soaking his fingers in your juices then he is rubbing a bit faster, making your knees buckle.

“Ah, Taehyung…” you moan out quietly. “Stay on my clit, I can come like this.” You let him know softly, your words coming out broken as you try to breathe normally.

“Okay babe.” He circles his fingers around your clit, rubbing over and over until you’re whimpering. Your eyes shoot open though when you remember you’re in public, your eyes scan the area and when you see you are alone you slam them shut and let out a longer moan.

“Be a little quieter.” Taehyung chuckles, “Don’t want my parents to come out wondering what’s going on, now do we?” he teases you, his fingers working on your bundle of nerves faster now, with added pressure making your orgasm announce its arrival.

“I’m going to—I’m going to come.” Your head falls onto his chest, and with his other hand he reaches up for the back of your head and begins massaging your scalp.

“Come for me baby. Want you nice and relaxed.”

You’re so, so close when you notice a couple of women walking past, you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay until they leave but being in this situation somehow pushes you over the edge. You bite down on Taehyung’s shoulder as you try to stay quiet as you come all over his fingers.

“Good, good.” He rubs your back, “Relax, relax.”

You try to calm your unsteady breaths as you recover from your high, his sticky fingers leaving your heat as he pulls them out of your pants. He immediately pushes his fingers past your panting lips and orders you to lick him clean.

“Now.” He says, waiting to feel your tongue clean him up.

Then you are buttoning your jeans back up and smoothing down your clothes and your hair. You look up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Feeling better?” he asks, “By the way, the answer better be yes.” His fingers tilt your head up by the jaw, urging you to look at him more properly.

“Yes.” You say truthfully. “I just need a moment to catch my breath then we can go inside.”

“Of course.”

Taehyung’s parent’s house is really, really nice. Well, as far as you can tell from the outside…you two are standing outside the front door waiting to get let in. You feel your nerves come back to haunt you, making you feel nauseas all over again. Before you can get too into your head, the front door is swinging open and a beautiful woman is widening her eyes at you, then she is yelling behind her in Korean and man is rushing to the door. Taehyung’s parents.

“Ummmm…” You start gathering your courage to speak to them. “Hello. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you.” You say in your broken Korean. Taehyung whips his head in your direction and looks pleasantly shocked. A wide smile makes its way on his face as he watches you trying to communicate with his parents.

“She even speaks Korean!” Taehyung’s mother claps her hands excitedly, but you literally have no idea what she said. You only know a few things, like asking where the bathroom is, random animals and colors and saying hello and goodbye. You awkwardly nod your head though and Taehyung begins explaining to them that you in fact, do not know Korean.

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Mrs. Kim brings her hand to her mouth as she tries to hide her growing smile. “We speak a little English…but we understand more than we speak…” she admits shyly and you can’t help but nod with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand but she walks closer and pulls you in for a hug instead. “Thank you.” Mrs. Kim mumbles in your shoulder. “Just…thank you. Thank you for coming here…”

“Mom…” Taehyung drags out in a whine.

You feel a pang in your chest once you realize what his mother means…she’s not mad at you? But rather grateful that you finally came? This makes the guilt you previously felt worsen.

“Come in, come in!” Mr. Kim chimes, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“y/n can help me?” His mom pulls away from you, her hands still on your arms. “Right?” She asks with a sweet smile. You nod your head and follow her inside. Taehyung grins as he watches you two walk away towards the kitchen, his dad smiles knowingly towards him and pats him on the back.

“We’re making bulgogi.” She says happily, “Have you had before?” she takes the marinated meat and starts placing pieces of meat inside the pan.

“Yes, but probably not as good at yours.” You smile. Mrs. Kim nods her head like she agrees with you then hands you the tongs to place the meat in the pan yourself.

“I am really happy…” Mrs. Kim watches you cook the meat, “And very grateful. Taehyung missed you so much…it was hard seeing him so sad.”

You take a deep breath…you probably should have guessed this conversation was coming.

“But he had the courage to go find you!” She claps her hands, “We raised him nicely, didn’t we?”

“I’m sorry…” you gulp, “I—”

“No, no. Taehyung explained everything. You had the courage to come here in the end, didn’t you? Your parents must have raised you nicely as well.” She says, her hand gesturing you to flip the meat.

“I guess so…” you turn the meat over in the pan. “Taehyung is hard to say no to.”

“He is…how do you say? Charming?” She gathers the side dishes and starts placing them on the table.

“He is.” You feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “He really is.”

Suddenly, you feel her hand on your arm. You turn your head to face Mrs. Kim and she’s looking at you with pleading eyes.

“……….” She says slowly, but you have no idea what she said. You scrunch your brows and look at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ll learn Korean, won’t you? When you do, you will remember what I said.” She then smiles for you, letting go of your arm.

“I’ll try my best.” You say honestly. “Thank you for having me here by the way.”

“Of course, we watched the two of you through photos for 8 months…you feel like family.”

“She’s very pretty.” Mr. Kim tells Taehyung, “But I’m worried….no….it’s fine. This will all be fine.”

“She’s beautiful.” Taehyung smiles, “And don’t be worried…everything is going to turn out the way it’s meant to.”

“The way it’s meant to, huh?” His dad grins at him, pulling him in for a side hug. “I know you will make sure of that.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Taehyung admits between soft breaths, “She is the one for me, I know it.”

“I remember being that sure about your mom.” Mr. Kim begins to reminisce, “I still feel that way.”

“I know.” Taehyung finally hugs his father back, both of them letting go. “You will love her too, you will get to know her and realize I have every right to be in love.”

“Oh son…we already know you are in love. We saw it even through those photos.” Mr. Kim begins walking to the kitchen, “And she’s a woman in love if I’ve ever seen it.” He chuckles, “You two will be okay.”

“You think so?” Taehyung follows his dad towards the kitchen where you and his mom are.

They walk through and see the two of you setting up the table, you both look happy and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

“Smells good.” Taehyung sniffs the air around him dramatically, “Did she help mom?” Taehyung winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

“She cooked all the meat! Next time I will get her to make the marinate.”

“I would love to learn.”

“She would love to learn! You hear that?” Taehyung comes up to you and hugs you tightly. “I will learn with you.” He whispers in your ear and places a quick kiss to your cheek. You immediately feel yourself heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed that he would show affection in front of his parents. But they don’t seem to mind, they instead smile at one another before taking a seat at the table.

“So, we want to know all about your time on the island! Happy memories.” Mrs. Kim requests sweetly. “The photos weren’t enough for storytelling.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung stuffs his face with meat, “I was so mean to her at first.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, he didn’t even want to talk to me!” you whine.

“We said happy memories!” Mr. Kim chuckles, patting his mouth with a napkin. “What was your first kiss like?”

“Oh yes! It was probably sweet and pure. I can just see it!” Mrs. Kim chirps making you blush hella hard. Your first kiss was anything but pure.

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

“It was very sweet. Very pure.” Taehyung comments nonchalantly, sticking another piece of meat in his mouth.

“Yes, very.” You repeat with a giggle. “The island holds some very precious memories for me.” You begin, “Taehyung really became someone special, someone precious. He felt like the first real friend I had in a long, long time.”

“What are you friends like at home?” Mr. Kim asks and you feel yourself grow a little smaller, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, you can admit.

“I don’t really have many…most of my friends were from my old job but that place was…toxic. I’m glad it’s behind me.” You say honestly. “I work a new job now and everyone seems really nice, I look forward to making new friends.”

“We hear you have an older sister! That must be nice!” Mrs. Kim reaches for a side dish, piles some on her plate. “And your parents must be so happy to have you home.”

“Ah, Ellie. She’s great.” You take a sip of your water, “She really takes care of me. And my parents were a little sad I finally moved back out and back to the city. But they’re also happy I am moving forward with my life.”

“How do they feel about you coming to Korea?”

“My mom isn’t the most supportive…but dad and Ellie are.”

“Why isn’t your mom—”

“Anyway,” Taehyung cuts off his mother, “y/n is excited about her new job and making new friends.

“Well, she can always make new friends here.” Taehyung’s mother gives both of you a knowing look. “The boys will surely like her.”

“Well, yeah…” Taehyung gets out awkwardly. “But she’s only here for a few weeks.”

“But eventually she will—”

“Mom.” Taehyung warns. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine! Anyway I prepared your photos from the island, should we show you our favorites?” She says excitedly. “There is one in particular that really just…oh my, let me just show you!” She stands from her chair and walks towards one of the counters, picking up a pile of photos.

“This one. This one is my favorite.”

It’s of you and Taehyung on the couch, you’re both laughing, leaning into one another spaces. Taehyung has got his hand on your upper thigh and your head is leaning into his chest. It looks like you two are so happy. Like you two never want to leave the island. And at the point you’re sure you never did.

“I like it too.” You say quietly. “We look so happy.”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice. “Show us more.”

“Okay, it was nice to meet you both.” You bow your head towards his parents and they smile at one another before they look over at Taehyung.

“Taehyung…”

Then his parents are pulling him to the side and speaking to him in Korean, so you have no idea what’s being said. But Taehyung looks flushed, then he is waving them off.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a blush.

“Did you have a nice time?” Taehyung asks you, his hand in your hand as you two walk to the bus stop. “My parents like you.”

“Yes.” You smile shyly, “But also why wouldn’t they? I’m amazing.” You tease, trying to act more confident than you are. Maybe to trick yourself to be nicer to yourself.

“That’s right baby.” Taehyung grins down at you, “You are.”

Although things went really well…you still can’t help but feel anxious over everything. Like you are undeserving of kindness. They were so nice to you even though you’re the reason Taehyung went through a sad phase. But you are trying to accept their love even if it’s really hard.

The bus ride to the stop near his apartment only takes around 20 minutes, you feel yourself nodding off on the bus. You had a long day and the jet lag is definitely starting to take a toll on you.

“Sleepy babe?” Taehyung takes your head in his hand and guides it on his shoulder. “Sleep a little.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself grow more and more sleepy.

Eventually, Taehyung is gently shaking you awake letting you know you two made it to your stop near his apartment. You both walk to his place, the night time air making you feel nice. It’s easier to breathe out here, it’s easier to trick yourself into breathing freely and feeling like you aren’t being totally suffocated.

You walk into the apartment and Taehyung decides to put on a movie. You change into some fresh panties and one of his long t shirts before you’re settling on the couch. Taehyung makes some hot chocolate for the both of you before he is pressing play on the movie.

You aren’t sure what movie this is, what it’s about or anything because you are so god damn tired. You lay down in Taehyung’s lap and eventually fall asleep.

Taehyung looks down at you and feels himself falling more and more in love. Just watching you sleep, he feels himself growing with affection for you. But it’s on his mind. What his parents said to him before you two left.

“She isn’t ready Taehyung…” His mom states plainly, “She will need a lot of time.”

“She does seem like a very good girl.” His dad adds in, “But we can tell how overwhelmed she is.”

Taehyung feels his entire face flush as he tries to gather his words.

“We are going to take it slow.” Taehyung says, “Really slow.”

“Don’t push her too much. We know how badly you want to be with her but it seems like she has some things to figure out before she can commit to you. Just remember that.”

Taehyung huffs out as he recalls their words because they’re right and he knows they are right. You aren’t ready and that’s just the truth. But he can’t give up. But he also can’t pressure you. Where is the balance? What is the balance?

He knows you are probably feeling very pressured right now, even just being in Korea. Did he make a mistake? No, he can’t think that way. He knows everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.

Taehyung watches you sleep more than he watches the movie. He just wants you to be happy, to be comfortable. He lifts you off his body so he can lay down too, spooning you on the sofa. He decides to sleep with you tonight.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday. Taehyung takes you around Seoul, you visit popular sites, eat good food, even do some shopping. It’s the evening now and you two are at some nice restaurant, you even have your own little room.

“Is this not a date?” You playfully ask. “Because it sure feels like one.”

Taehyung takes a moment to think before he is pouting, his bottom lip jut out so far you want to kiss it.

“It is.” He finally says, “But it’s not the first official first date like how Friday will be.”

“Jeez,” You sigh out, a small laugh leaving your lips. “How many unofficial first dates will we have?”

“A million, if we have to.” He teases, reaching over the table for a side dish. “Do you kiss on the first date, y/n?” he suddenly asks, making you blush.

“With you? I just might.” You respond back. “Do you?”

“With you? I definitely will.” He says cooly, “Just an innocent kiss though.” He looks up at you and smirks.

“Oh? Sweet and pure? Like what your parents think—”

“It was sweet and pure!” Taehyung whines, “The sweetest, purest kiss of my life.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “What the hell other kind of kisses you been having?”

“Nothing like yours baby.” He winks at you.

You playfully scoff at him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like kissing me?” Your eyes find his again, “Tell me.”

“I love kissing you. One of my favorite activities.”

“What are your other favorite activities?” you lick your lips, his eyes fall down to them.

“They all include you but I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

“At least tell me one. Or maybe I can guess?” You scoot to his side of the table, your body getting closer and closer to his.

“You can guess.” He gulps as your hand lands on his thigh. “Guess.”

“I think you like when…” your hand slide up and down his upper thigh. “When I touch you.”

“You guess right.” Taehyung stares straight ahead as your hand travels up his thigh higher and higher.

“My hand is one thing, but I bet you like my lips the most?” You lean up and kiss the side of his neck.

“Y/n…” Taehyung says breathlessly. “Not here.”

“Why not?” you continue to kiss his neck, making Taehyung grow weaker with every kiss.

“I don’t deserve to be touched by you.” Taehyung whispers.

“Baby…” You kiss his neck again, “I forgive you.” You say in his ear. Taehyung slowly closes his eyes and starts to shake his head.

“You don’t. You can be upset with me however long it takes.” He says quietly but you aren’t having it. You lean back and grip his arm, urging him to look at you.

“Tae…I said I forgive you. You…I thought a lot about it and yeah, it doesn’t make me happy but also we weren’t in a place that I can actually be upset over it. I’m trying my hardest to be understanding. And I think in the end, it’s no one’s fault that you did what you did. And you said it means nothing to you—”

“Nothing! It really didn’t mean anything…” Taehyung cuts you off, his expression is troubled. He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “y/n…I really wish I could take it back. I regretted it so much.” His eyes begin to bubble over. “That night especially…I wasn’t myself, I was in a dark place, I missed you so much, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your hand reaches up to rub his shoulder. “I know, baby.” You continue to rub his shoulder as soothingly as possible, getting him to calm down.

“You really forgive me?” he asks, his voice small.

“Yes Tae.” You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I might still be a little bitter about it but I will try my best not to be. But overall, I forgive you. I know you regret it. I know the one you love is me…”

“Yes!” Taehyung basically shouts, “You’re the only one I love, I promise you.”

“I believe you.” You say, hugging him close. “This can be one thing we cross off our problems list.” You laugh. “I don’t want this to be a problem anymore.”

“Really baby?” He slips his arm over your shoulder, hugging you back.

“You deserve to be touched by me, Tae. Me and me only though.” You can’t help but chuckle.

“When we get home,” he breathes out, “I will let you touch me.”

“Okay.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans. His hands go to your hair, he pulls at it making you moan all around his dick.

“You are art.” He grits out. Your tongue swirls over his tip before you take his cock further and further in your mouth. You have drool escaping the corner of your lips, your eyes are fogged up with lust and your cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink. You truly do look like art.

“Take your time baby.” Taehyung moans, “We have all night.” You slowly lick up his length, getting it nice and wet. He moans for you, the low guttural sounds going straight to your pussy. You’ve missed this, missed him, missed his cock. Having him squirming beneath you feels so good as you make him feel amazing.

“I love your mouth…feels so good.” He watches as you bob your head up and down rather slowly. You suck his cock so well it makes him dizzy.

“You know how to make me feel good.” He finally closes his eyes as he just focuses on the feeling you give him. He focuses on your hands on his member, on his balls, he focuses on your tongue and how it licks him over and over. He focuses on your sounds, how you choke on his cock, how you moan for him.

Taehyung hates how close he is. But he hasn’t felt this amazing in months and months. He wishes he could have your lips wrapped around his cock for hours and hours, but he is losing control. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for more.

“Can I come down your throat? Will you swallow for me?” He pants.

You only moan around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He feels himself go tense as he shoots his cum down your throat. You continue to fondle his balls, and suck on his tip as he finishes.

Taehyung whines out, throwing his head back as he comes down from his high. You swallow all his cum like you agreed to, the flavor lingering in your mouth. Tastes like him, tastes so good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung moans, “How are you this good?”

“Let’s just say I was made for you.” You crawl up his body, Taehyung pulls you up by the arms and lays you down on his chest.

“You are, you definitely are.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “No one has ever made me feel like the way you do.”

“No one?”

“Just you my love.”

Explosions. Like, maybe something like fireworks go off in your chest. His new pet name for you makes you feel warm as fuck, and giddy too.

“I’m your love?” You try to pull your lips down, hiding this obvious smile.

“Of course, you are. Love of my life.” He states in a whisper. “I can’t see myself with anyone but you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You respond sweetly. “The feeling is mutual.”

~~~~~

It’s Wednesday. You and Taehyung are just relaxing in his apartment today…you two plan on ordering take out for dinner and watching shows, playing games and just enjoying one another’s company.

“This feels a lot like one of our days on the island.” You say, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it does.”

For the first time, things feel like they never changed. You feel at home with Taehyung, you feel like everything is right, everything is perfect.

“Even being here on this sofa reminds me…”

The slow drag of Taehyung’s cock is enough for your vision to become blurry, almost like you are drunk. The couch isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but you both were so fucking needy for the other…you don’t even care about being watched. Not even for a moment as intimate as this.

Taehyung brings his hands to either side of you and starts rolling his hips into you deeper and deeper, your eyes roll so far back into your head that all you can see is the whites. His cock reaches places you didn’t even know about, you never knew cock alone would make you feel this fucking good.

Dreamy. That’s you would describe this moment. His length brushes against you in ways that make “seeing stars” like a child’s phrase. You’re beyond seeing stars, you are seeing whole galaxies. The universe is in your eyes with the way he makes you feel.

Taehyung’s chest falls to your chest, his lips on your lips as he continues to grind his hips into yours in the most slow, sensual fucking of your life. Can this even be called fucking? This might be called making love.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your steamy thoughts. Your whole face is red as you push back that memory. Taehyung knows though. He sees right through you.

“You’re thinking about the slow fuck, aren’t you?” He winks down at you. “When I fuck you again, it’ll be like that. But even better.”

“When?”

“When I just can’t take it.” He admits, “I have very little control left though.”

“I know it will be amazing.” You sigh out, “I can’t wait to feel that close with you again.” You murmur shyly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“The more I look at you, the more I feel ready.” He says softly, making your heart skip a few beats.

~~~~

Thursday. You had a few days to gather courage but today you are feeling anxious all over again. You have already thrown up twice.

“Baby we can cancel.”

Today you are meeting Taehyung’s friends. Tonight, technically. But it’s only an hour before your meeting time and you are so overly anxious that you are physically sick.

“No, no.” You wave him off, “I’m just being a baby.”

“They’re the ones who said I should bring you back to Korea. No one is going to be mean to you, no one is going to make you feel unwelcome…well…no, no it’ll be fine.” Taehyung rubs your back.

“I know, I know.”

You were once not like this. But after everything that happened with your ex, with your old job and so on, you have become a nervous person. You know this is something you have to work through…

“But if it’s too much, we can cancel.” Taehyung offers again, you just shake your head and smile. He’s so loving, so supportive. What did you do to deserve someone as amazing as him? “No, I need to finish getting ready though.” You rise from the couch, “Will you help me pick something to wear?”

“You packed that green, flowy dress right?” Taehyung grins, “I love that dress on you. Wear that.”

“I was going to wear that tomorrow…for our date…”

“What about that new dress you bought on Tuesday? The red one?”

“Oh that’ll be a better date dress. Hm, okay. Green one tonight then.”

You walk into Taehyung’s bedroom, and take out the green dress. You slip it on over your body and examine yourself in the mirror, you look nice, you will admit.

“Beautiful.” Taehyung comes up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “So beautiful.” He then kisses the side of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

His hands begin massaging your hips, you slowly close your eyes from how good it feels. You grind yourself into Taehyung’s crotch and he immediately groans out.

“We have to leave soon.” Taehyung warns. “Don’t make me get you off.”

“Why can’t we both get off?” You whine, “Just fuck me already.” You continue throwing your ass back into his crotch.

“I think soon but not right now.” He smiles. His hands continue to massage you, he rolls your hips with the guidance of his hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“Hm. Yes.” You open your eyes and make contact with him in the mirror, “I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“What can I do or say to make you feel comfortable?” Taehyung hugs you close.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll try anyway.” He laughs, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. “You are amazing, you are funny, you’re fun to be around, you’re adorable, you’re sexy, my friends are going to love you! They are all so excited, I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggle. “I’ll just have to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You both stare at one another in the mirror for a while, you feel like every moment that passes with his eyes on yours you are falling in love all over again. The time on the island counts but this is real life, this is reality. You have to learn to live with the fact that the island was just one part of your relationship. That this new phase is something worth working on.

“I love you Taehyung.”

Taehyung blinks at you in the reflection, he looks genuinely surprised by your words. He turns you around in his grasp, your face now facing him, just inches away.

“Tell me again.” He says softly. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, your mind starting to fog up with affection for Taehyung.

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough that I will do anything if it means we will be happy together.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung whispers, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head to the side as he leans into your space. His words hit your lips softly and you feel yourself melting, melting so much that Taehyung has to basically hold you up.

“How much do you love me?” You ask, a slight teasing tone. Your eyes half lidded as you stare up at him.

“Enough that I can’t wait until our first date.”

“Can’t wait for wh—”

Suddenly, Taehyung’s lips crash into your lips. He kisses you long and deep. His lips staying on yours for a life time, you feel your knees give out on you. Taehyung holds your body up as you finally start to kiss him back. Your lips move against his slowly, tenderly, with so much feeling, so much passion.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him, your chest coming flush against his. He starts to move his lips against yours a little harder now, a little more desperately, a little more with fire. Taehyung surprises you with the long, dragged out moan that leaves him as he kisses you. Like, this is the first time he has ever kissed you. Like, he has been waiting a life time to kiss you.

His lips part for you and you take the hint to slide your tongue between his lips, finding his tongue tangling with yours immediately. His hands explore your body frantically, they grip you in every place you could want him. Your lips, your tongue, everything tastes so sweet. He can die a happy man after finally kissing you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but Taehyung’s ringing phone indicates that maybe you two are late. Taehyung pulls away from you, his erratic breathing hard to calm. He reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Hello? Uh huh…okay….sorry, sorry. We will be there in a bit.’

You smooth down your hair in the mirror and fix your make up a little bit, then you turn around to face Taehyung again.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“It was Jimin, him and Namjoon are already there. We should get going.” He pulls you in and places a quick peck to your lips. “You ready?”

“Yes. How do I look?”

~~~~

“Gorgeous! You look so gorgeous!” Jimin gushes, he holds you at arm’s length and you look at Taehyung with confused eyes.

“Umm, thank you. You look…gorgeous too.” You admit shyly…well, he does. You didn’t think Jimin would be this beautiful!

“Oh my god, me? Thank you!” Jimin goes in to hug you again, “I thought you were so pretty but pictures do not do you justice girl.”

“Oh my god…thank you…” You laugh, “I knew I looked bad in some of those pics.” You joke.

“Wait that’s not what I meant!” Jimin can’t help but pout…”I meant—”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon steps between you two, “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I’m not sure Jimin here was ever going to give me the opportunity to introduce myself.” He chuckles. You shake his hand and he grins at you.

“It’s so nice to meet y—”

“y/n!” You hear your name being called but you don’t recognize the voice, you glance over your shoulder to see two new bodies walking towards you.

“Hi—” But before you can continue talking you are being engulfed in a hug by one of the men.

“I’m Hobi!” he laughs into your shoulder, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oooh.” You nod your head in understanding, you glance at the other man who just give you a small wave of the hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” He says with a smile. “We are uh, your new friends.” He looks down at the floor, his gummy smile not going unnoticed by you.

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You feel yourself smiling, you feel your heart glowing. Everyone is being so nice, it’s refreshing.

“Okay, stop hugging her Hobi…” Taehyung deadpans. “Where’s Jin and Jungkook?”

“They were right behind us…” Yoongi comments, “They probably got caught up talking to someone on the way in.”

“Well, you know Jungkook. Probably a girl.” Jimin teases, “So should we grab a table?”

You all search for two tables and put them together, so you all have a place to sit. It’s around 9pm. So the bar is starting to get crowded, but it feels fun.

“What are you drinking baby?” Taehyung leans into you, “Want a mixed drink?”

“Yeah, surprise me.” You nod, “Something strong though.” You wink up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Okay.” He leans in and finds your lips. You kiss him back quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin practically drools, “This is the first time we are seeing Taehyungie happy again.”

Guilt. But you’re trying, you are desperately trying to move past that feeling.

“It’s the first time since the island that I am this happy too.” You admit to Jimin. He leans into your space and smiles at you.

“You’re going to make Taehyung so happy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my best.” You giggle.

Taehyung comes back with two drinks, he hands one to you and you immediately gulp it back.

“Well, hello there friends.” A new voice. You look up to see who you assume is Jin and Jungkook.

“I am Jin, your new best friend.” He shakes your hand and you laugh. “This is Jungkook…” he gestures towards the other boy. Jin looks very happy to see you while….Jungkook does not, to put it simply.

“Hi Jungkook.” You wave at him and he only narrows his eyes at you, scoffs and looks away.

“Oh?” You raise a brow…finally, someone who is treating you the way you feel you deserve. Somehow this amuses you.

“Jungkook doesn’t want to be my new best friend?” You tease. You glance at Taehyung who looks tense but he immediately relaxes when he notices you taking this …rather well.

“Why?” Jungkook spits out, “So you can ghost me for 6 months?”

Ouch. But a well-deserved sting.

“Okay,” Taehyung stands to his feet and takes Jungkook by the arm and drags him off to the side so they can talk.

You watch, still amused. You don’t feel hurt by this…Jungkook is just being a good friend. Not that the others aren’t good friends but to be honest you expected this from at least one of them.

“If he doesn’t behave, just report to me and I’ll scold him.” Jin says playfully, “And if Taehyung does anything weird, you let me know and I will set him straight too.”

“I don’t like scolding Taehyungie…” Yoongi begins, “But I’ll do it.”

“Don’t count on me, everything Taehyung does is perfect in my eyes.” Jimin laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking—”

“We aren’t so sure you are.” Namjoon cuts in. “But really y/n…this is the most we have seen Taehyung smile. It’s thanks to you.”

“It’s also my fault he….” Your eyes go to Taehyung who is still scolding Jungkook. “He—”

“It’s no ones fault!” Jimin claps his hands together. “Everything happened the way it did and now we can all move forward. Especially you y/n.” Jimin gives you a sweet smile, “Guilt is an ugly feeling. I would hate for you to be eaten alive by it when you don’t have to be.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears…you didn’t realize you needed an almost stranger tell you something like that…he’s a new friend right? You can call him a friend?

“Jimin…” You sniffle and he starts laughing loudly.

“Oh! Don’t get sad!” He leans in to hug you. “Let’s only make happy memories, okay?”

“The happiest.” Jin chimes in, “We’re all your friends now…and Jungkook will give in eventually.”

“Don’t worry too much about Jungkook…” Yoongi smiles, “He’s sort of the brat around here. You’ll get used to it.”

At this you laugh, you have heard stories. He is the youngest, after all.

“I’m not too concerned.” You admit under a few soft breaths, “It kind of feels good…getting what I deserve.”

“What are you? A Masochist?” Jimin frowns, “You deserve to be happy.”

“And I am…or, I will be. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, we are back!” Taehyung announces his and Jungkook’s presence. “And we are happy to be here, aren’t we Jungkook?” He says with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Totally.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Super happy to be here. Hi y/n.” he mutters underneath his breath. It’s cute actually.

“Hi Jungkook.” You giggle. “Want to take a shot with me?” you offer, standing up. Jungkook pinches his brows together then points to himself.

“With me?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Yes, you.” You nod your head in the direction of the bar, “Coming?”

Taehyung looks over at you, also confused. But you just give him a smile that lets him know it’s okay.

“Sure…” Jungkook shrugs Taehyung off him, “If you’re buying.”

“What a brat.” Jimin laughs. “You should be buying her the drink, not the other way around.”

“No, no. I offered, I’ll buy.” You wink. You start walking towards the bar and Jungkook follows behind you.

You both walk up to the bar and you ask him to order for you, which he does. You both get handed two shots of some liquor and you raise your glass to clink it with his.

He eyes you curiously, wondering what your aim is here.

“Were you ever going to talk to him?” Jungkook finally says something.

“Taehyung believes I was going to…so yes. If he believes it then so do I.” you take your shot and Jungkook follows.

“I don’t like you.” Jungkook states plainly, “You made Taehyung really sad…”

“I know. I don’t think I like myself much either right now. But Jimin made me feel a little better…”

“Jimin will do that.” Jungkook sighs out. “But I still don’t like you.”

“You’re very cute Jungkook.” You reach up and ruffle his hair, you laugh out loud when you notice how red he has become. “You’re a good friend.”

“I-I-I…” He stutters out, feeling his blush hit him hard. “Whatever.” He looks off to the side. “Are you ready to go back or what?” he grumbles shyly.

You nod your head and you both walk back to your tables, Taehyung gives you a look of concern before you are smiling at him. A real life smile. And he relaxes.

“Hey baby.” He says, pulling out your chair for you to sit. “You didn’t grab another drink while you are up?” he asks, “I’ll go.” He stands, placing a kiss on your cheek and you nod gratefully.

“So what are we talking about?” You glance around the boys, “Anything interesting?”

“y/n! This is perfect, we can get a girls perspective.” Hobi smiles at you, “Yoongi has this girl he likes, right?” At this Yoongi groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “But he won’t ask her out!”

“And how can I help?” You laugh.

“Well,” Jimin joins in, “We don’t know how this girl feels. So listen, listen.” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder as he speaks, “She kissed him one time but hasn’t initiated anything since!”

“Oh…” you give Yoongi a look of pity and he starts laughing.

“I knew it.” Yoongi slaps his knee, “She isn’t into me guys.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Jin asks and Namjoon swats his arm. “What? It’s true. She is kissing on random guys all the time, I think you just happened to be one of them.”

“No!” Hobi cuts in, “Listen to this though! She asked for him last weekend, wondering where he was at…like, she missed his attention or whatever.”

“His attention or him?” you ask with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” Namjoon says, “We have to be sure if its him she wants and not his lips.” He starts making kissy faces and you all start laughing.

“Well, if she out tonight?” you ask, “Maybe I need to watch your interactions with her to be sure.”

“Wow, you can be a wing woman.” Hobi says with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god yes a wing woman.” Jimin says with stars in his eyes as well.

“I’m not saying I will be much help!” You giggle, but the boys wave you off, still excited about having a wing woman.

“You’ll really help y/n?” Yoongi asks quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course I’ll help…well, to the best of my abilities.”

“What did I miss?” Taehyung comes to the table, setting your drinks down. He takes a seat next to you.

“y/n is apparently all of our wing woman now.” Jungkook says nonchalantly.

“Psshh, like you need a wing woman.” Jimin teases, “You get girls just by being in the same room as them.”

“Stop trying to make my girlfriend do work when she just got here.” Taehyung pouts, “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“No, it’s nice.” You admit with a blush. “Feels like I have friends.” You say as quietly as possible to where only Taehyung can catch what you are saying. “We are your friends.” You hear Jimin whisper to you as he leans into your space. “Don’t ever doubt that.” Oh. You guess with Jimin next to you he was bound to hear.

“Thanks Jimin…”

Hours and hours pass, drinks are going down like crazy. Everyone is having so much fun it is ridiculous. You haven’t laughed this much probably ever in your life!

You feel yourself growing closer and closer with the boys, especially now that you are all drunk.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you!” Jimin laughs with his whole body, he practically falls out of his chair. “You told him his painting of you looked like a frog!” he snorts.

“Someone had to be honest about his human portraits, I suppose.” Namjoon laughs as well. “But a frog? You’re savage.”

“I thought his painting of the 7 of us was really….special.” Yoongi adds, “But I wouldn’t say we looked like frogs.”

“Oh, he made me look like a god damn frog.” You giggle. “I told him to burn it.”

“And did he?” Hobi asks.

“No, we kept it for the memories…” Then your face lights up. “By the way Tae…”

“Hm?” Taehyung smiles for you, “What is it?”

“Do you have the painting? They left us with a box of stuff right? Things from the island but I didn’t have the painting,”

“Yeah, I have it.” He nibbles on his bottom lip, “Maybe one day when we live together we can put it up…and then one you did of me as well.” He slurs.

“One day.” You grin.

“Oh my god, y/n.” Jimin whines, “You have to move here!”

The rest of the boys start clapping and agreeing, nodding their heads along.

“Wouldn’t that be a culture shock?” Jungkook speaks up, “She doesn’t even speak Korean.”

“Yeah, it would be.” You admit shyly. “But there’s time to think about all of that.”

Taehyung reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jimin slumps his shoulders but smiles for you both anyway. Hobi stands up and offers his hand to you, you look at him quizzically.

“Want to dance?” He asks, “All of us of course, but you’re the lady. So I asked formerly. I don’t know I’m drunk.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, let’s all dance!”

You all head to the dance floor, the music is loud and drowning out any and all worries you had about tonight.

“Having fun?” Taehyung brings you in, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“Time of my life.” You slur out honestly. “I can’t thank you enough for…”

“For what baby?”

“For showing me your world.”

“It can be our world…” He places a kiss on your neck. “One day.”

“I want any world as long as you are in it.” You say breathlessly. “I like your friends a lot.” You tell him and he grins into your neck.

“They’re the best and they will treat you right.” He breathes you in, “I trust them with my life, they’re like brothers.”

“I can tell. They’re a good group of dudes.”

“I can tell they like you too.” He sighs into your hair, “But I like you the most.”

You grind your ass into his crotch in beat with the music, his hands travel all over the front of your body. You two dance like this for a while when a feminine voice cuts through the sound of the music. You and Taehyung both snap your heads in the direction of the voice when you see a girl standing here, her hands on her hips and a look of disappointment on her face.

“Taehyung?” She says, his name sounds wrong on her tongue. This can only be who you think it is.

“Oh hey.” Taehyung awkwardly smiles, “What’s up?”

“Who’s this?” she asks, looking in your direction but she doesn’t look at you directly.

You don’t want to feel intimidated but it’s her. It’s Hana. She is even prettier in person. She’s got two friends with her, but they are talking to the boys.

“This is—”

“I’m y/n.” you say as confidently as possible.

“My girlfriend.” Taehyung says, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “y/n this is Hana.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” You smile, and she scoffs. Fucking scoffs.

“………..” she says in Taehyung’s direction but you have no idea what she said since it was in Korean.

You stand here awkwardly, swaying from side to side as Taehyung talks to her…you wish you knew what they were saying. But you’re almost too drunk to care.

“Excuse us!” you smile, with Taehyung’s hand in yours you drag him to the bar leaving Hana behind.

“y/n.” Taehyung sighs out, “She was just—”

“Huh? It’s fine, Tae. I just wanted a drink and to be spending less time with her and more time with you.”

Taehyung can’t help the smirk that his lips curve into. He grabs you by the hips, pulls you in for a hug then leans away to look at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says before leaning in to kiss you. His tongue prodding its way into your mouth, you moan out loud and swirl your tongue with his. Your kisses are rushed, sloppy and messy. And drunken as fuck.

“You guys are so hot.” Jimin whines as he walk up to you two, ordering his own drink.

You pull away from Taehyung and start laughing.

“Get two more of what you just got.” Taehyung smiles, “On me.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Jimin cheers. Then he is ordering two more drinks as Taehyung slides his card over the bar top.

“I saw you guys talking to Hana…” Jimin whispers to you, “How was that?”

“Don’t care.” You shrug, “She didn’t look very happy to see me though.”

“She was hopeful…” Jimin admits, “That she could get Taehyung to fall in love with her. She had been trying for a long time…then he disappears for 8 months and is in love with someone else. She tried to be understanding but it was still hard on her.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung butts in with the drinks, “Because I told her you’re my girlfriend and the one I love so…”

“I know, Tae.” You smile, “I may not understand Korean but I got that much.” You laugh.

Jimin joins you in your giggles as he chugs the entire drink in one go.

“y/n!!” Yoongi stumbles over, “She’s here! She’s here! I need you my wing woman!”

Your eyes crinkle from how hard you are cheesing. You lean up to kiss Taehyung on the lips before walking towards Yoongi and following him to wherever he’s hanging out.

It’s a perfect night so far.

“Hold my hand.” Taehyung slurs with a pout on his lips. “Want to feel you, want to touch you, want to fu—”

“Want to what now?” You laugh into your palm, as you reach for Taehyung’s hand. He holds you close to him as you two walk back to his apartment, his body swaying into yours and yours into his.

“Fuck…I want to fuck you.” He whispers in your ear before he bursts out laughing for no drunken reason.

“I’d let you baby. But sober you would be mad at drunk you.” You slur out yourself, “I know how important waiting is for you.”

“You don’t get it…I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“I am drunk but babe, I’m serious.” He tries to give you a straight face. “I feel overwhelmed with love for you.”

You feel your heart doing flips in your chest, you feel butterflies in your stomach and you feel your head going dizzy with affection.

“Really?”

“It went really well tonight.” Taehyung says, “So well that I have decided you are definitely my perfect match and that company did me the biggest favor because how else would I have met you?”

Usually the mention of the company would make you sad or anxious but somehow you feel grateful too.

“Tae…” you squeeze his hand, “My soulmate.” You bump your shoulder into his side.

“We are fucking soulmates.” He says, then he yells it out for the whole street to hear then he’s laughing deeply.

“Fucking soulmates.” He repeats just loud enough for only you to hear.

You two finally get to his apartment, you stumble in and plop yourselves down on the couch. Taehyung pulls you into his lap and starts kissing your neck, your collarbone, you shoulder. His lips devouring every free piece of skin he can find.

“Taehyung…” you moan, “Let’s wait until we are sober.” You breathe out roughly.

Taehyung continues kissing your skin and hums an ‘okay’. He lifts himself off you and gazes into your eyes.

“I will stay awake until I sober up. Until you sober up. Then I am going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you with so much fucking love you will be coming all around my cock time after time. You ready for that baby? You ready to have my cock coming inside you?”

You can’t help but gulp as you blink at him, then you are slowly nodding your head.

“Then let’s drink some water and make out until this room is no longer spinning. We aren’t sleeping tonight.” Taehyung warns in a deep, deep voice.

“We’re really staying awake until we sober up?” you laugh. “Aren’t you afraid we will fall asleep?”

“Baby, knowing that I get to fuck you in a few hours is all the motivation I need to stay awake. I believe you are the same. I know you are desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”

And you are, you fucking are.

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #Taehyung smut #Taehyung angst #Taehyung fluff #the island chapter 10

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mrskurono · 4 years ago

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a/n: Alright so I have baby feels (bc I’m ovulating, fucking hormones) and like all the kids I ever see are people giving the characters girls. Which, yeah its cute, but you know I want some hq headcanons with boys! So here we are me feeding myself content like a heathen :) tags: timeskip spoilers, fluff, parent!HQ characters, nothing that invovled its just kids headcanons, fem!reader involved character(s): Kageyama Tobio (hq), Hanamaki Takahiro (hq), Kindaichi Yuutarou (hq), Suna Rintarou (hq)

Kageyama Tobio + Two Boys

;| You know what’s funny, these boys were both 100% planned but Kageyama is that idiot that forgets each time you end up pregnant

;| “It’s positive???” “Love, you literally circled the ovulation day on the calendar so you could tell Fukuro you’d be late.” “Oh....That’s right.”

;| They both look like Mini Tobios™

;| He’s exceptionally proud of that in fact, dresses them up in volleyball gear constantly and makes sure each kid has a volleyball

;| Closer in age than he and his sister were. The oldest is about three when the other is born

;| They’re exceptionally close simply by the fact you both do everything with them if Kageyama is working

;| But conversely when he’s not training or working this man has his kids with him everywhere

;| Schweiden group actually loves these two (and you) Romeo adores kids as does Fukuro. Toshiro and Tatsuto are like the best weird uncles they could have. Kourai is just a larger child. And Ushijima keeps crayons in his work locker for the kids (and draws with them)

;| Work takes up a lot of time but in honor of his grandfather Kageyama stresses the importance of family a lot

;| Be default his kids really get along and love each other as well as kinda being momma boys

;| But Kageyama is whipped for you anyways so it would make sense both his sons listen to mom without hesitation

;| Often mistaken for twins even though ones older

;| Avid volleyball players as they grow up but Kageyama never pressures them to be as competitive as he was, constantly reminded of how bitter it was during middle school and high school to be alone, so Kageyama prioritizes fun before anything else

;| The oldest might follow in their father’s footsteps but both of them always keep interests in other faucets of life that Kageyama appreciates because he wants to see his kids happy how they want to be happy and not just because he’s a volleyball player

Hanamaki Takahiro + Three Boys

;| “Lets have another one.” “Well, what’s one more.”

;| Basically that’s how you end up with three kids

;| Makki adores kids and honestly he’s never had an issue with them and they listen to him really well (maybe it’s the deadpan stare)

;| One boy leads to another, then two lead to three, no you were never “trying” for a girl and honestly Makki is over the moon with three boys. Having had just sisters, he thinks it’s terrific

;| They’re close in age, like, 2, almost 4 and maybe 6, you guys wasted no time and really it paid off

;| All three of them are tight knit and at some point you had to worry if they were ever gonna make friends outside themselves (don’t worry they did)

;| While you might not have ended up with three mini Makki’s, they all three have “the stare” that sometimes you get all four of them sitting together and looking at you it feels like a judgement

;| Really they’re just looking at you but it’s hard when they look so unenthused and judgey

;| Makki is super involved (whether he’s working or a stay at home parent is up to you) Regardless he puts other dad’s to shame

;| This man adores each of them in their own way and never pushes the volleyball narrative on them

;| One or two of them might but none of them really make something of it. All of them though are incredibly smart and end up being Seijoh kids

;| Uncle Mattsun is their favorite because he has gross stories to tell but Uncle Iwa is a close second because apparently it’s genetic all three boys wanna beat him in something

;| Makki’s pissed because Iwa lets all three of them out do him in whatever sport it is they like

;| Makki is still trying to arm wrestle Iwa

;| All four of you men are incredibly soft and down to earth, Makki still makes time for you even with three kids and somehow makes you feel like the sexiest person alive

;| But no, a fourth kid is 200% off the table

Kindaichi Yuutarou + Two Boys

;| After Kindaichi gets through with his apprenticeship and is working, suddenly he’s found himself as a nervous first time parent

;| Not that it wasn’t planned, you both just stopped trying to prevent it

;| The first one was hard, neither of you will lie but Kindaichi’s dedication to mastering this baby stuff really sold you on another one when he asked if you son should have a sibling

;| A little bit more of an age gap, think four when the second is born, but honestly your first is as touchy and sensitive as their father so being a big brother comes naturally

;| Out of all three of them, Kindaichi’s kids end up the perfect blend of you both. Except the hair, both boys have widows peak and dark hair there was no avoiding it I’m sorry

;| Somehow having the second one was easier. Kindaichi kept them strapped to his chest or packed them around while big brother helped and suddenly you were way more free than the first time around

;| Both boys are incredibly smart and very personable

;| You joke that at least they didn’t inherit their father’s anxiety

;| Kindaichi finds this less funny

;| Both boys though are avid learners, great at making friends and enjoy volleyball

;| Yeah they end up Seijoh kids again and they’re like class 6 and up, they’re smart its scary

;| Thankfully as adults Kindaichi’s been able to reconnect with or stay connected with everyone so the boys have a huge support net

;| Uncle Kunimi swears up and down he doesn’t like kids, but somehow knows these boys so well that their birthday and Christmas presents are amazingly thoughtful.

;| The oldest actually ends up playing more professional volleyball while the other one either dips into another sport or works in the healthcare field

;| They’re both huge momma’s boy’s though and do not be surprised that they still ask for your advice and approval no matter how old they get

Suna Rintarou + One Boy

;| This little shit looks exactly like their father

;| Middle part, black hair, unenthused look, what the hell was the point of carrying him for ten months for him to look exactly like Suna

;| Who obviously thinks its the best thing on earth and gloats about his Mini Me more than he will admit

;| Suna excels in the weirdest parenting aspects

;| Physical touch and comfort? Amazing, can get his son to stop crying instantly. Remembering to do things like point at colors and say the names? Kinda forgets that

;| Another one who packs his kid around but opts for a carrier so his hands are free

;| Does workout with his kid attached to him, Suna ends up being an avid walker/hiker afterwards because it was low impact for you after childbirth and your kid loves the outside

;| Will never allow the twins within twenty feet of his offspring

;| Komori and Washio though? Oh yeah no shows his kid off constantly to those too

;| Gets asked when you’re gonna have another one by the way Suna is so over the moon with the first one

;| Inherits the knack for volleyball like their father has and Suna won’t lie he kinda enjoys it

;| Sets up a net outside and the both of them play a lot

;| Though he won’t admit it, Suna really appreciates Kita’s and Aran’s interest in his kid and feels a little proud when his old senpais tell him what an amazing kid he has

;| Suna always deflects it and says it’s only because it’s your kid

;| Deep down though he’s screaming because seeing his kid toss a ball to another Japanese Olyimic player melts his heart to no end

;| Maybe one more....maybe

197 notes · View notes

soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago

Note

Ok ok! Good uhm.

Ok since body dysmorphia has been kicking my butt lately i wanted to request something with Schlatt where basically the reader Starts getting really insecure because of their body. Pushing and pulling on their stomach etc. They also start binding unsafely with like really tight bras because they can't afford a binder and they end up fucking up their ribs really bad. They end up in the hospital and a very worried Schlatt visit's them and lectures them about how they shouldn't have done that and about how worried he was. So when they get back home there is a gift on the bed, turns out Schlatt bought them a binder.

The reader would be Non-binary and afab.

Also a little message for pretty much anyone who is insecure about their body/has body dysmorphia because of their chest, don't bind unsafely. That can really fuck up your chest and make you actually being happy with your body even harder.

Hell yes. I love this idea thank you icarus! Writing has been rude to me lately and I needed inspiration. This has hit it exactly.

Pronouns:nonbinary (dont think any were actually used in this so yeah.)

Tw: AFAB reader, swearing, insecurity, mention of surgry, mention of blood, mention of hating self, pain. Again angst to fluff. It is reflecting on how I have felt about my body before because I needed to make it seem kinda real.

PSA: please dont bind safely. It's dangerous and can lead to serious health consequences. I know hating your body sucks but I dont want anyone to get hurt because they dont listen to their lungs, they dont take off their binder, or if their bras are way too fucking tight. It can and will hurt you. So please bind safely!!

Happy birth-what the fuck?!

Lately your brain was giving you more dysphoria then ever. Telling you your body was too big, your boobs were too noticable, and you hips are too feminine.

What brought this on? Someone simply said your dead name. It made your dysphoria hit you like a truck.

After that day everything went down hill. Your stopped streaming, telling your followers that you were going on a mental break, you didn't really talk to friends, your brain could put words together. And you most importantly barely texted your loving supporting boyfriend schaltt, not wanting to break down in front of him.

You never had the time or thoughts of getting a chest binder. It was your biggest mistake honestly.

Deciding against chest binders and wearing alot of tight bras to flatten you. But it didnt work. So you got tighter bras. And they did work. But you didnt read up on how to bind safely.

This lead to the predicament now. In front of your mirror you were pinching and pulling at your skin. There was too much. All you wanted to do was cut it off with scissors. But decided against it due to the fact of all the blood that you would loose.

Your chest, smaller then it was yas, was still visible after your 3rd bra. You decided to add a 4th and tighter one hoping it would completely hide your boobs.

Your body made you want to puke. It made you feel disgusting. But you never told schaltt that. Afraid that he would say that you looked as gross as you thought you did.

Only 5 minutes after the 4th bra you felt excoriating pain in your ribs. And worse of all a harsh pop. That immediately brought red flags. It hurt to breath. Your head fuzzy and light headed.

Your only reaction, to call for an ambulance. Dialing the three numbers as you whimpered in pain you held onto your lungs. "911 what's your emergency?" "I cant breathe. It hurts so bad. Please help." "Are you by yourself?" "Yes. I need help please." "Ambulance, firemen, and police are on their way. Ambulance is 2 minutes out."

You didnt know if you had 2 minutes. "They can break the door down if I dont answer." That's all you said after collapsing.

Next thing you knew your door was busted off its hinges and you saw two paramedics. They were quick to transfer you to the ambulance, cutting through the four bras that held your chest.

It help get air to your lungs but it barely helped.

"We have a collapsed lung. ETA 2 minutes." The paramedic back there with you spoke to the walkie talkie.

Collapsed lung? Was that the harsh pop? God, was the bras that bad of an idea? All that was going through your mind was how you possibly could get worse. The instant you got into the trauma bay was way worse. With no time to numb you and your O2 stats dropping they had to cut between your ribs and shove a tube right next to your left lung. Draining air and excess blood blocking your lung from inflating. And before you knew it you were off to emergency surgery for getting a shard of bone out of your chest cavity.

The last thing you remember was counting down and falling asleep.

When you woke up your boyfriend was next to your bed, hands engulfing one of yours.

It looked like he had been crying before falling asleep on one of your legs. Taking your free hand through his hair you smiled lightly. "I'm sorry for all of this ram boy." He grunted lightly and moved his head back into your hand. His messy hair was thick and nearly matted. It made you wonder how long he's been sitting there. You loved him and felt so selfish for doing this to him.

"I cant believe I did all this and for what? To cause you and everyone pain? All because i couldnt afford a chest binder and deciding that I might as well try another way. I should have been safer huh?" You didnt expect an answer back. Just his quite snores.

"Yeah. Not really fuckin selfish more like kinda dumb. Your body doesnt show who the fuck you are (y/n). Your heart does. And your heart isnt say boy or girl. Its saying you are you. A person who uses pronouns they them. A person that love everyone and cares for their friends. A person who love me and jambo so deeply."

He took a breath.

"You normally are quite smart. Saving up for one would of been a better idea instead of doing such a stupid thing. Asking for my help. Because if I knew I would of helped. I would of found one just right for you. I would help you remember to take it off after 8 hours. Even would of found a way to make you feel more like you."

You could hear his heart break.

"But now you're here, four broken ribs, a healing lung, and stuck in the hospital for another week at least."

You felt so guilty. He was right. You should of told him. He would never have seen you like you saw yourself. He never cared about how you looked. He only cared for your heart.

Tears falling down your face you continued to massage his scalp. "I could of lost you. You are my rock. When I cant keep up my normal antics and feel like I'm at an all time low. You are there to pick me up." You had to stop the sob from coming up. "I'm just so happy youre alive." He looked up.

His red eyes were making your heart ache. "I wont do it again I promise. But I cant just ignore the feeling of dread whe. I look down and realize I present so much like a girl. I dont wa t to be one." Schaltt nodded and kissed the hand he was holding. "Then let me help you. I wont let this happen again. Just please. Come to me. Talk to me. I'm here like you are for me."

You gave a small nod.

This man knew his way to your heart. He was so sincere about this. "I will. But promise me you wont look down on me if I end up feeling like that." You just needed to make sure you knew he would never but you needed his words. "Mever sugarbabe. Never in my life have I looked down on you and never will."

God the week was long, him and the doctor explaining safe binding that you cant fully bind for at least 6-8 weeks. Schlatt telling you his reaction to finding your apartment swarmed with police and firemen and you no where to be seen.

He was practicing on saying happy birthday to you. But was cut off. "Happy birth-what the fuck?!" He was so concerned and even more so when you were in hospital.

When you did go home he helped you through the door, and watched you as you saw the small package on your couch.

Opening it you saw a chest binder. Specifically the one you were looking at. Looking over to schaltt with tears in your eyes you walked up and hugged him lightly minding the pain in your left side. This was the best gift.

The only gift you had been wanting for the past week or two. "Now you can be safe. But no binding till your doctor says so or I swear to god I will personally smite you down." You had to try so hard no to laugh or the pain would of been hell. Kissing his cheek you smiled.

"Of course schaltt. I will make sure to not wear it till I'm healed dont want to get blood on it ya know. Also it would hurt like a fucking bitch."

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Alright now go sit down. I'll get you some soup ya dork."

This was going to be a great time. That was until the pain fully came back. And then this is going to be a mediocre time.

Please pardon spelling errors. I havent proof read. And I am on mobile for almost all stories. But thank you so much for requesting this became something that I could write and it helped me alot. Now I might take a while for other things too and i apologize that's cause i am starting school soon. Also family issues. So yeah might take a bit. Dont know how long though. I'll try to keep them coming but if not you know I'm studying or helping my mom and grandma.

Eli out.

#jschlatt x reader #mcyt fluff #schlatt x reader #mcyt #mcyt schlatt #dsmp schlatt #schlatt fluff #schlatt #please bind safely #non binary #tw: body harm #tw: body dysphoria #tw: body dysmorphia

128 notes · View notes

inskz · 4 years ago

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

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danielleslegacy · 4 years ago

Text

For the Soul || Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

Request: yes / no

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Reid Request because you gained a follower with your recent story!!: Can you do one where Reid and the (non-BAU) reader have a flirtationship and he’s trying to hide being a genius/being FBI because she’s more “on track” with their age range and he doesn’t want to freak her out (idk how specific you take your requests lmao)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: it is just fluff that is all, its tooth-rotting, you’ve been warned.

Pairing: fem!Reader insert x Spencer Reid

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

“Amazing Coffee for the huge loser in the corner,” I shout out, a grin stretched across my face. The man stood, a magnetic smile on his face, and walked over to the counter.

“Is that any way to talk to a loyal customer, Y/n,” He says, taking the black coffee (with like 6 sugars) and bringing it to his lips. I lean down onto the counter in front of me, resting my chin on my hands.

I roll my eyes in response, “What are you gonna do? Report me to the manager?”

He smirks up at me, knowing good and well that I own the little coffee shop that we’re currently standing inside of. “That and all of the other patrons might take offence,” He gestures to the empty cafe.

A laugh erupts from my chest, “We’re only empty because it’s after hours, you’re the only one that drinks coffee at this time of day, Spence.”

“We get it, you’re successful,” Spencer says, a smile still playing on his lips, “And I’m not the only one that drinks coffee at night thank you.”

“Oh yeah?” I say teasingly, raising an eyebrow in question, “Tell me, who else is drinking coffee right now?”

“Well, statistically speaking,” He begins and it's almost as if he catches himself, and he stumbles for a moment, “With there being seven billion people alive right now, there is bound to be at least one other person drinking coffee.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he says breathily, stifling his laugh, he leans down onto the counter too so that our faces are level.

I rake my bottom lip between my teeth, his eyes watch the action intently, “I’ll have to take your word for it, pretty boy,” I say, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“I like to think you’re the pretty one,” He says smoothly, “Must be why I keep coming back to this god awful coffee.”

My mouth drops open with a gasp, “How… DARE.. you, Spencer!” I shout, taking the cup of coffee out of his hands, “You’re not allowed to have my amazing coffee anymore, I will ban you.”

He lets out a hearty chuckle that makes my heart squeeze with affection and takes the coffee out of my hands again, “I was joking, it’s my favourite coffee.”

“That’s much better,” I say a grin spreading across my face, “How was work?”

“Long,” He says, taking another sip, “I’m just glad to be home. I missed my bed.”

“And me,” I finish for him, giving him a wink.

He nods his head bashfully, “Yes and you.”

“Where did you go?” I ask rounding the bench and begin packing away the rest of the furniture for the night.

“Florida,” he says, grimacing.

“Oh gross,” I say with a laugh, “What was happening there?”

“Nothing really,” He says quickly, “How’s the shop been? Uneventful without me dropping in at,” He checks his watch, “Seven-thirty?”

“Same old, same old,” I say waving my hand, “Can you throw me the spray and wipe?” And he does, “We had one guy come in on Tuesday morning completely hammered, he could barely stand, I had to ask him to leave.”

“You okay?” Spencer asks, walking over to hand me the tools and I begin to wipe down the tables.

“Yeah, but he was freaking out my employees, kept talking about the FBI and stuff,” I huff, “He must have been drinking at the Bar across from Quantico and walked down the street to try and have breakfast here. But I didn’t like the vibe I was getting from him and neither did the girls that were working so I asked him to leave.”

“What was he saying?” He asks, voice completely serious.

I wave my hand, “Just saying things like the FBI, only consisted of robots and people who wanted the world to burn. You know normal conspiracy theorist stuff.” I laugh. Spencer doesn’t. In fact, I can practically feel his discomfort radiating off him. I finish the table I'm on and turn around to face him, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, he left pretty quickly, I wasn’t too worried. I think a couple of my regulars are agents so I wasn’t too worried that he would get violent,” I say, letting him know that it’s not something that was bothering me.

He nods his head and leans against the counter once more letting me finish my cleaning.

After finishing it all up, I throw the spray and wipe into the back room, and walk back out to Spencer. “What’s your plans for the night?”

“I’m about to head home,” Spencer says, finishing his coffee and handing the cup back over to me, “Why?”

“I was planning on a quiet night,” I say honestly, placing the cup into the sink for the morning crew to deal with, “But if you didn't have any plans, did you want to stay here a little longer? My apartment is upstairs.”

When I was looking at a place to start my business, I remember meeting the landlord, who loved me and offered to rent me the place above it for a decreased rate if I accompanied both places, and I was quick to jump on the offer. I knew how convenient it was to be so close to my workplace and it was in a prime part of town. And quite honestly I loved the place before I even stepped into the space. It was a fairly small apartment, pretty much entirely open plan except for the bathroom, and a small space that I had turned into my study. My bedroom, living area and kitchen were all connected, with no walls separating them. And I loved it that way.

“Yeah sure,” He says, following me around and up to my apartment.

“This is where the magic happens,” I say opening the door and gesturing for him to enter, “And by magic I mean the cooking and sleeping kind.”

Spencer lets out a hearty chuckle. He throws his eyes around my apartment, and they land on my coffee table, which is littered with books. “I didn’t know you were a reader.”

I nod my head, “I love it, it lets me relax before I sleep. What about you?”

“You could say that I enjoy it,” He says taking a seat on my sofa and pick’s up the book that was on the top of the stack, C.S Lewis’ “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. “I’ve read this one before, it is speculated that Lewis was actually experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs when he wrote the book. So it’s not really the innocent story that it seems like originally.”

“Okay, wow, how did you know that?” I ask, impressed with his knowledge of the book.

Spencer adverts his gaze, “I think I read it in a journal once.”

I take off my coat and come to sit down next to him, sitting on it sideways, so that I can face him. “So you’re a smartie,” I say giggling.

He places the book back down and turns to me, “My coworkers like to call me the resident genius,” He says, almost as if he wasn’t sure what he was saying.

“Wow, impressive,” I say smiling up at the man, “What other things do you know?”

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” He says facing me, “I know a lot about a lot of things. That’s kind of my job.”

“What?” I ask, slightly shocked, “What do you do?”

“I’m with the FBI,” Spencer says, voice laced with self-consciousness, “I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“Spencer!” I say enthusiastically, “That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want to freak you out, it’s a pretty intimidating job, and I didn’t want to lose you,” He says honestly, placing a hand onto the one I have rested on the top of the sofa.

I take his hand in mine, “I am continually surprised and impressed by you mister Spencer Reid.”

“It’s actually doctor,” He smirks, his confidence building.

“Sorry, Doctor Spencer Reid,” I giggle, “so tell me, mister FBI, what’s it like?”

Spencer rolls his eyes, “It’s not as fun as you would think.”

I nod my head, listening to him tell me about his job. It’s almost like a different version of Spencer appears as he talks animatedly about each of his coworkers and what it is that he does. “And my eidetic memory helps me remember all of the things I need for cases.”

“Okay, when you said that they call you a genius you weren’t joking.”

The blush rises in his cheeks and Spencer bites his lip softly. “This isn’t freaking you out?”

“No, Spence,” I say shifting so that I’m closer to him, “Not at all, it’s incredibly attractive.”

His eyes flick down to my lips, and before either of us could make a move, his phone lets out a loud ring. To which Spencer groans and throws his head back, fishing it out of his pocket. “Sorry, it’s work,” he confesses.

“It’s fine, answer,” I say, smiling at him.

“Hello Garcia,” He begins, and I get up and walk away, to give him a little privacy.

“I’m actually with a friend,” He says, his gaze drifting to me, “Is he sure? Okay, I’ll get back to you. Bye.” He hangs up and stands, crossing the room so that he’s in front of me, “What we’re your plans for the night again?”

I look at him sceptically, “I was spending time with you, why?”

“Would you like to come to dinner with my coworkers, well they’re more like my family, because I spend so much time with them,” He starts rambling obviously nervous.

“Yeah, I would love to come, Spence,” I cut him off, “You want to drive or me?”

Tension releases from his shoulders and he beam at me, “I’ll drive.”

Once in the car, Spencer tells me that his whole team is having a group dinner, a kind of team bonding session. He briefed me on each of the members, trying to help as much as he can.

“You know I can take you back home if you’ve changed your mind, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” He says as we pull up in front of the impressive mansion, and turns the car off.

“Spencer Reid,” This draws his attention towards me, his eyes lock with mine, “I’m excited to meet them, no need to be worried.”

He nods his head and we exit the car and walk up to the door. Spencer rings the doorbell and is quickly back at my side. Nerves begin to bubble in my chest, until hours ago I didn’t even know who these people were, and they most definitely didn't know me. What if they don’t like me? Or that I’m not welcome or don't fit in? I don’t think Spencer would stop being friends with me over that, but my growing feelings for the man would complicate the situation. It’s almost as if Spencer can feel my doubts, as his hand reaches down to join with mine, he squeezes it softly.

“Thank you, pretty boy,” I say, throwing him a wink. The door opens to reveal a man, with a cloth tossed over his shoulder.

“Ey, Reid,” The man says, pulling a laughing Spencer in for a hug, and a kiss to each of his cheeks.

“Rossi,” Spencer says, stepping back, “This is Y/n.” He gestures to me.

“Hi,” I say softly, extending my hand out to shake his. But instead, the man wraps me in a hug and I let out a surprised laugh and hug him back.

“Sorry I’m a hugger, I’m David Rossi, but please call me Dave,” He says once he releases me. “Come in, Come in. We were just about to pour the wine.”

We make our way into the large kitchen and I notice the group of people stood around the island. Their laughter and conversations subside as they notice our presence. My eyes flick over the group. Each of them wears a matching expression, surprise, eventually my eyes make it to a familiar face.

“Wait, JJ?” I say, my face breaking out into a grin. The woman makes her way over to us and wraps me in a hug, which I return quickly. Once we release, she hits Spencer’s arm softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew, Y/n?” JJ says accusatory.

“Wait, how do you know each other?”

I let out a giggle, “JJ was my first customer when I opened my shop, and now shes my second most regular customer, I can always guarantee that she will come in and order her black coffee as soon as I open the shop.”

“Hey, I can’t help that the coffee is so good,” JJ says, shrugging.

“So you know JJ and Spencer, but not the rest of the team. So let me introduce,” Rossi says, placing a hand on my arm to guide me over to the rest of the team, JJ and Spence following soon behind. Dave introduces me to each of the members, all of them give me a warm smile and tell me that they’re glad I’m here.

“So how long have you two been dating?” The dark-haired woman, Emily, asks. “Uh,” Spencer stutters, “We’re not dating.”

“No?” Morgan questions, clearly puzzled.

“Nope,” I say, “We’re just friends.”

“Pretty boy come on,” Morgan groans.

“That’s what I call him,” I laugh, to which Morgan hums, asking what I meant without words, “Pretty boy.”

Morgan lets out a laugh, muttering that he likes me already under his breath.

“Wine?” Dave calls out to me.

I shake my head, “No thank you, I’ve got the morning shift.”

“Wait you didn’t tell me that, when do you need to be home?” Spencer quickly interjects, clearly unsure if I should be out, as he knows that I have to be up to open the shop at 4:30 if I’m on the morning shift. I wave my hand letting him know that it’s okay. Looks are thrown between members of the team, all silently swooning of Spencer and I’s obvious feelings for each other.

“Where was your shop again Y/n?” Penelope asks, a smile on her face.

I smile back at the woman, “It’s actually just down the street from where you guys work, next to Taylor’s bookshop.”

“Wait, what was the shop's name again?” Hotch questions.

“Pour l'âme, It’s french,” I laugh, “It means for the soul, but doesn’t the french version sound so much better.”

“Spencer has definitely brought group coffee to the BAU from there at like 9 o’clock at night,” Morgan says, “And there is no way that you’re open that late.”

My eyes flick to Spencer, whose face is red, “You would be right.”

“So that means that you’re making at least seven coffee’s for dear boy wonder here in your after hours,” finishes Penelope.

I nod my head in response.

“Far out Reid, if you don’t make a move I will,” Emily jokes and the group lets out a collective laugh.

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch, the team continues to make jokes at Spencer’s expense, and I'm sure that it's a normal thing for them to do anyway.

The clock ticks over to ten thirty, and Spencer and I say our goodbyes to the team. Each of them gives me a hug, aside from Hotch who had already left.

“Thank you for dinner, Dave, and thank you for having me everyone, it was great to meet you all,” I say, placing my coat over my shoulders, hoping they understand how truly grateful I am to be included.

“You’re more than welcome at my dinner table any night of the week,” Dave says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

The rest of the team makes comments that suggest they agree. And my heart squeezes, they have successfully made me feel so welcomed and like a part of the family already. We throw goodbyes over our shoulders, and Spencer's hand falls into mine and we walk down to his car. He opens the door for me, but before I get in I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Thank you for taking me, Spence,” I say, burying my head into his chest. Spencer’s arms wrap around me and we just stand together for a moment. My heart races at the intimate moment.

“I’m so glad that you could come,” He mutter’s into the top of my hair, “I don’t think I’m going to be allowed to come without you anymore.”

I let out a laugh and pull away from him and get into the car, and we travel back to my apartment. Spencer parks his car and gets out following me to the back entrance to my apartment. We stand outside of my front door.

“I don’t want to leave you yet,” I confess, a surge of confidence racing through me, “I like being around you. In fact, I think I’m going to surgically attach us together so that I’m always around.”

The two of us laugh. Our eyes lock in the light of the moon, cliche I know, and I can tell that Spencer’s eyes are concentrated on me. His eyes flick down to my lips and I rake my tongue over them.

“I like being around you too,” He whispers, inching closer to me. I can feel his breath on my face at this point, the cinnamon scent that he's always wearing envelops my nose and I feel at home, I feel safe. He leans down slowly and hovers his lips over mine, leaving me time to pull away if it’s not something I want. And oh god do I want it. I step up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his, bringing my hands up to hod his face. His own go around my waist and pull me closer to him. Our lips move together in perfect harmony and it's almost as if the rest of the world slips away. I swipe my tongue over his lips and he opens his mouth to me. We fight for dominance and eventually he wins, pushing me backwards a little bit and we hit my door with a thud, causing us both to laugh and break apart. I grab the back of my head.

“Ow.”

“I’m so sorry,” He says laughing. He places a hand to the back of my head, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say smiling, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth slightly. “So, when are you finally going to ask me out?” I tease.

He lets out another laugh and steps back from me, oozing confidence, “Hey you're the one that told the team that we’re just friends.”

“We are just friends,” I quip back.

He shakes his head, “Do you want to be just friends?”

I shake my head no.

“Good, me either.”

Taglist

@saucybeeches

#spencer reid #spence #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds AU #coffee shop au #penelope garcia #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotch hotchner

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tentendeservedbetter · 3 years ago

Text

home is where my team is - Chapter 6

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Read also here: AO3 | FFNET

The moment he entered the street his home laid in, in an area that is considered to be Konoha’s “Inuzuka neighbourhood”, the smell of spices and fresh meat took over the other scents around him, almost making him salivate slightly as he pulled open the front gate. It was early evening - almost time for dinner, he assumed, and man, was he starving.

Kiba nearly tripped over his own feet as he rushed through the front door and sat on the ledge of the entryway of his home, unzipping the back of his sandals and kicking off his shoes. He was about to leave his sandals in their spot, one having flipped over and laying on its side, however, the memories his mom scolding him harshly from the last time he left his shoes in the entryway, and today was the day he did not want hear any type of scolding from Tsume.

Before Kiba could give a command, Akamaru bounced up from the ledge leading into the house, barking and bouncing through the hallway into the living room.

“Chicken! Chicken!” Akamaru barks echoed through the hallways.

"Hey, Akamaru! Sit! Sit!!" A voice came from within, making Kiba jump up from the ledge and briskly walk towards the doorway.

He found Hana standing in the kitchen, near the counter with chicken legs lined up on a glass platter, hands covered in plastic gloves in the air away from her, extending the leg that Akamaru had decided to attach himself onto away from the counter. Akamaru almost immediately backed off of Hana when Kiba stepped into the space, sitting down, but he never left Hana’s side.

“I wasn’t expecting you guys to be back home this early,” Hana commented, looking up to Kiba. She tilted her head to the side, the side of her mouth lifting into a grin, an eyebrow raised. “So? Pass or fail?”

“You knew?” Kiba asked, his eyebrows pulling in automatically at her question, a realization dawning on him. “Why didn’t you tell me that I would have to take another test to become a Genin!”

“You sign a NDA along with your contract to ensure that you don’t tell Academy students about the test,” Hana answered with a slight shrug, taking off the plastic gloves, quickly turning on the sink and running her hands with soap.

Kiba desperately wanted to ask, “What the hell is a NDA?”, but Hana chuckled a bit, continuing, “I’m kidding, it’s not that serious. But they do tell us not to mention it to upcoming Academy graduates, just in case. Even the ones who failed can’t mention it either. So? Did you fail?”

Kiba quickly shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket, pulling out the headband he took off on the way back home, the mixture of sweat and dirt from all those hours running around, fighting Kurenai, and rolling across the ground making the fabric stick to his forehead in a way that even he found to be uncomfortable and mildly gross. The smell of it...well...he didn’t want to begin to describe it. He showed her the handband in the palm of his hand, and he could see Hana’s face brighten up, a big smile.

“Hey, I knew you could do it!” Hana said, walking up towards him, a hand reaching out to rub his head roughly, the strength of it making Kiba’s move around a bit too much, he swore his skull was going to snap off his neck.

“Hey! Ow! Stop it!” Kiba exclaimed, his voice cracking throughout the inflections, and Hana pulled her hand away (but not without giving him a few more ruffles). “You’re ruining my hair!”

“It’s already ruined,” Hana replied, putting a hand on her hip. “Go wash up and come back downstairs. And actually, wash up properly.”

“I’m not a kid! I know how to clean myself,” Kiba continued as Hana silently ushered him out of the kitchen, out into the hallway to the staircases leading up to the top floor.

“Do you? Do you really?” Hana asked, and Kiba squinted his eyes, throwing her his best annoyed look to get her to stop bugging him. He walked up the stairs with Akamaru a step below him, slower than he would, all the movement he did that day catching up to him and making his legs ache in a way that he never felt from anything he had to endure throughout the years at the Academy. Actual battles are different from those training spars they had to do, for sure. When they emphasized endurance and resistance training, Kiba didn't think much of it- but now, he has to come up with some new regimen to follow.

Suddenly, he heard Hana call out from the bottom of the staircase, “Wear your cleanest clothes! We’re going to have guests!”

“What!?” Kiba called back immediately, whipping his head back to look down at her, but all he saw was Hana walking away into the hallways, likely to go back to the kitchen. He yelled, louder now, “Hana! What?! What d’you mean we’re having guests?!”

“You heard me!” He heard Hana’s voice, muffled through the walls, call back, and he could hear the sound of water running again quickly before he could yell back again. He didn’t want to go back downstairs, already at the top of the staircase to begin with, and he knew Hana was going to tell him to leave her alone so she could do what she was doing in peace.

What the hell! Kiba thought as he went through the top drawer that was underneath the bathroom sink, taking out his green visor-like shower cap, after grabbing his towel from his room and throwing all his clothes in the laundry basket in the corner of his room. He nearly stomped into the bathtub, putting the visor around his forehead, around above his ears, before turning the knob maybe a bit too aggressively. He quickly set up the water temperature with the knobs, the cold water from the showerhead turning warm as the water hit his hair, traveling down over his body.

I was going to meet up with Akane after the test! Kiba furiously grabbed the nearest shampoo bottle in the tub - the only one there, a lavender scented one, just lovely, he really needs to buy his own shampoo from now on unless he wanted to smell like a flower shop - and he lathered and massaged it into his brown strands. He was careful not to let the shampoo get anywhere near his ears, he knew that it would annoy him if water got into his ears. I wanted to...oh fuck, my eyes!

He had somehow got soap in his eyes, and Kiba quickly cupped his hands to catch the water and wash his face. After that, he quickly cleaned the rest of his body, not wanting to stand in there longer than he had to.

Kiba had met up with his friends the evening before at the park near the Academy, after he met Kurenai for the first time and he had stayed behind at the tea house with Hinata and Shino. The moment they finished the tea and mochi that Kurenai had (thankfully) paid for, he ran off, not wanting to be held back with them anymore. They were more than excited about their sensei - he was so cool, Akane had swooned, with a bandana and a toothpick in his mouth without a care in the world- and they were definitely much more optimistic about their team than Kiba could have ever dreamed of being.

Hinata and Shino… he won’t lie and say that he thought of them differently before this test they had to take together. Other than what he thought of them before - one being shy and passive and the other being cold, rude, and, well, creepy- he also had thought they would be much more...stuck up.

Well, Shino was kind of stuck up, in a way, however...he did recognize Kiba’s abilities as a shinobi, entrusting him with a pretty big role in their strategy to get Kurenai’s headband. But...the way he speaks to him, with all those big words and explaining every little detail, asking him questions all uppity, like he was looking down on him when he asked a question…

Kiba knew they were from noble clans - the Hyuuga and the Aburame, two of the four other clans to help found the Village, along with the Uchiha and the Akimichi clan. And the only reason Kiba even cared to remember this is because his year had a student from these clans. Sasuke Uchiha and Choji Akimichi, specifically. The latter one, he was acquainted to as well, but he had a hard time believing that Choji came from such an esteemed clan - he always hung out with Shikamaru and asked him for his allowance to buy snacks from the convenient store near the Academy, always snacking during class, and he was not a better student than...any of them, really.

Choji was very different from the other three students. He was definitely friendlier and more outgoing. And he was actually approachable.

Hinata was definitely different from how he thought she would act. Well, yes, she was shy, and was very much a peacekeeper between himself and Shino, and was passive about what to do when they first started the test together. He expected her to be snobbish as well; between all of them, the Hyuuga, from what he remembers from seeing in passing when Hinata was accompanied by a member of the clan to school and on parent-teacher conference night, had a sense of...importance that they carried. They also smelled like, what Kiba would describe as, freaking loaded.

And he expected Hinata to react differently when he teased her - he thought she would have told him off, in a more ladylike way with less cursing obviously (imagine Hinata cursing...that would be funny), like how most of the girls in the class do whenever a guy tries to get on their nerve and make a dumb joke.

Hinata genuinely thought he was serious, and she...just looked very naive. Sheltered, if he had to go there. And she didn’t try to demean him in any way. And...she just accepted his apology, because really, he thought she wouldn’t react that taken aback, and she was just...generally very easy going.

Not saying that he felt some deep and profound connection with them after this test, no. But maybe having to smell them, getting all in their personal space, might have done something? Kiba felt his face start to heat up as he thought about how close he was to them, close to their clothes, their hair, their skin. He never had to do that before; it was his first time. Usually, he would be adjusted to people’s scent through time, and while it did take a very long time that way, it is the least intimate way to get to know someone.

Stop thinking about it, Kiba commanded himself, feeling his heart beating fast, and he turned off the water faucet, taking a deep breath. Now’s not the time...we got other shit to deal with.

“Akamaru!” Kiba opened the bathroom curtains slightly open, grabbing the towel he hung nearby and wrapped it around his chest - no, he meant his waist. He found Akamaru laying down on the mat on the floor, eyes closed as the steam from the hot water created a foggy blanket in the room.

Akamaru immediately pulled himself up on his feet to the sound of Kiba's voice, looking straight at him, barking, “Yes Master!”

“Come here,” Kiba gestured. Akamaru didn’t budge, his tail momentarily stopped moving, and he stared at Kiba, frozen in place. Kiba stared at him for a moment, waiting. But when he noticed Akamaru starting to back away towards the bathroom door, Kiba immediately stepped out of the tub, taking a few steps. Akamaru quickly turned around and started to scrape at the door, whining.

“No! Please don’t!” Akamaru whined, and Kiba swiftly picked him up, holding him with both hands.

“Would you rather Hana wash you?” Kiba replied as he quickly plugged the beige bathtub stopper in the drain, turning on the faucet and letting the water run until it was shallow enough for Akamaru to stand, but deep enough to easily throw water on him.

“Yes-!” Akamaru replied, and without any hesitation, Kiba sat on his knees and let go of Akamaru into the bathtub, where the pup let out a yelp as he landed on his feet.

“It’ll be fast, I promise!” Kiba grumbled as he held Akamaru with a hand around Akamaru’s narrow waist. “And don’t bite, or else!”

“Help! Hana, help me!” Akamaru called out.

“Stay still!”

After what felt like too long for a quick bath for a pup that size, Akamaru was sitting on his bed wrapped in a towel, while Kiba put on, as his sister said, his “cleanest clothes”. Other than what he would wear for training, he didn’t have many options - but a plain black t-shirt and brown cargo pants should be enough to please Hana. The smell of cooked chicken, along with other foods wafted through his slightly opened bedroom door.

What guests are they even going to have?

“You want me to get the hairdryer?” Kiba asked Akamaru while aggressively rubbing a towel in his hair, trying to dry it to the best of his abilities. Akamaru shook his head, and Kiba sat down beside him, patting his fur gently after Akamaru shaked his body quickly.

“Kiba!” He heard Hana’s voice call from the first floor through. “Are you done? Come down!”

“Yeah!” Kiba hollered back.

“Huh? I can’t hear you!” Hana called back.

“I SAID ‘YEAH’!” He got up on his feet, quickly making his way down the stairs, through the hallways, and…

“Well, if isn’t the man of the hour! Congrats, Kiba!”

“What the-” Kiba muttered when he saw the living space was filled with...well...members of the Inuzuka clan.

There were members of his clan sitting on the three couches surrounding the coffee table, spaced out between themselves. He saw the space in between occupied with a few dogs, all of varying fur length and colour but they were all larger, older than the other dogs in the clan, laying on their stomachs, taking a nap. The screen door was slightly open, and he could hear even more dogs, playfully barking while the sound of children yelling in glee.

Young and old...Immediate family or extended members that he does not share blood with...it didn’t matter how they were all related to each other or whether they were related at all. What mattered was that they carried the Inuzuka name, they were loyal to one another in the clan and...they were here.

To celebrate him becoming a Genin.

It was only a fraction of the clan, though - regardless, Kiba felt warm seeing them there. The one who congratulated him first, before everyone else also started to throw whoops and cheers of congratulations, was a man in the Konoha green flak jacket, around middle aged, slightly sturdier in size sitting on the corner seat of one of the couches, with tan skin and brown hair, paler with a few grey strands from age, that fell just below just above his shoulder. He wasn’t one of the most senior members of the clan, but he was getting there, though the man tends to say that he was still agile despite being in his 50s.

“Man of the hour, huh?” Kiba asked, grinning at his words as he approached the couches, and the man stood up, much taller than Kiba and wider than Kiba’s small statue. The man reached over to grab his shoulder, nearly toppling Kiba forward from the strength of his affectionate shake. “So, can I call you Gaku instead of old man?”

“Hey, hey, don’t get too comfortable,” Gaku cautioned, though he laughed while saying it, while the others around him chuckled and laughed at Kiba’s cheeky request. “You’re still a little brat!”

“He’s not so little anymore; you've gotten taller since the last time I saw you,” another man chimed in, and Kiba glanced beyond Gaku, where another middle aged man sat at the end of the couch. His hair was much shorter than Gaku’s, much more grey and split from the side, but just as choppy, not wearing his flak jacket, rather wearing a casual shirt and pants. He had similar red markings on his cheeks. “At this rate, you’ll be taller than Tosa!”

“Well, aren’t you a comedian, Isamu,” Tosa, sitting on the couch opposite from them, scoffed, his voice deeper and lower than the other two men’s. Kiba had to hold back his laugh while the others around them let out laughter at the man’s deeping frown, making the lines on his face deepen, his red marks moving down. “You should consider joining a circus.”

“I’ll do it when I retire,” Isamu replied lightheartedly. “Maybe after Hitomi finishes school, I’ll run away.”

“Please do,” a woman, probably about a few years younger than them but still with evident aging on her tan skin, who sat on the opposite end of the couch Tosa sat on, replied. She grinned, her red marks perking upwards, as she spoke, “Then maybe I will know peace, for once.”

“Well, I did tell you not to settle with him,” He heard another voice from the dining table, and he glanced over at another middle aged woman, her black hair, speckled with grey strands, tied back into a bun, her hands busy skinning an apple. Unlike the others, she didn’t have the red fangs on her cheek. A large plate sat in front of her, already with some apple slices and tangerines.

“Well someone has to be with him, Fuuko,” the woman beside Tosa replied, gesturing towards him as Isamu smiled along. “Look at him. Nobody else in the Village wanted him.”

“Haya, what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment,” Isamua pleaded to his wife, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Aunt Fuuko, you can let Kiba handle the rest,” they heard Hana calling from the kitchen, and Kiba glanced back towards the entryway, finding her holding a tray with fried rice. The smell immediately filled the air, and from the scent Kiba could tell it was fresh from the pan. Hana looked at Kiba, and held the tray out towards him, not moving to him. “Kiba, put this on the table, please.”

“C’mon Hana, it’s the boy’s special day!” Gaku replied before Kiba could even scowl back at her, his body instinctively ready to walk towards her. “Let him rest for a bit.”

“The more hands I have in the kitchen, the faster the food comes out,” Hana replied, glancing down at Kiba, looking at him expectedly. He knew supporting Gaku would not deter her - besides, even if Kiba didn’t want to do it, it wasn’t like he was doing much of the work. Hana must have been preparing all of this food for a while...and Tsume left this morning to go on a mission, and was nowhere in sight, so he could only assume she hadn’t come home yet. Besides...If Tsume comes home to find him not caring for their guest... that’s another fear he does not need.

“Alright, alright,” Kiba replied, walking out of Gaku’s grasp towards Hana. “I’m coming.”

“Good,” Hana said with a wide smile, placing the tray on his arms. “Put this on the table, and then cut the fruits that are there.”

“Sure,” Kiba drawled. “Would you like me to do anything else, my dear sister?”

“Yes,” Hana said brightly, playing along with his tone. “You can make everyone here tea.”

“Hey, Hana! Bring out the sake!” Gaku called out from his seat from the couch. “We can’t celebrate without alcohol!”

“You guys want to drink now?” Hana replied, raising an eyebrow, looking straight at him above Kiba. “You don’t want to wait for everyone else to come?”

“Everyone else?” Kiba repeated, and as if on cue, the ding dong of the doorbell rang through the air. Hana immediately stepped past Kiba, and he quickly went to the dining table, placing the tray in the middle.

“Hey, Aunt Hachi! Thank you for coming! And Mimi, I love your dress, you look so pretty,” Hana kindly greeted their clansmen under the sounds of his aunts and uncles talking in the living room as he entered the kitchen. He begrudgingly filled the kettle on the counter with water from the sink, glancing around the kitchen space. He saw the oven was on, a timer ticking away near it, a mixture of cooked meats and spices emitting from it. Kiba inhaled sharply. There was chicken...more chicken...and meatballs, maybe? The more he sniffed, the more he smelled - tones of teriyaki, miso, the lemon and paprika… he could feel his mouth salivating again, his stomach letting out a low rumble.

He needed to distract himself.

“Who wants tea?” Kiba asked, and he heard a few ‘yeah’, ‘sure’ and ‘here’.

“Let me check if Hige wants one,” Haya said from her seat, gesturing to the sliding door leading outside. “He is sitting outside with Ken and Kegawa. Hige!”

She bellowed his name as she stood up, walking to the sliding door, "Oji-san! You want some tea?”

"Depends- who's making it?" He heard a voice distantly speaking from outside, elderly in quality, low and croaky, slow and steady in the tone.

"Kiba."

"He's here?!” The voice perked up, and Kiba could hear it clearer as it approached the sliding door. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

A face peered through the sliding door, aged through years of fighting through many wars before Kiba, or even Tsume, existed on this Earth. What was left of his hair was pure white, his hairline receding to reveal the top of his scalp, shiny under the light. His tan skin was etched with lines - wrinkles and scars, Kiba knew - and his sharp eyes looked around the room, just as they were since he was an active shinobi (or so they say). The Inuzuka genes were strong, even into their old age.

Even the balding.

Kiba considered himself lucky that he probably didn’t have that gene.

“Kiba!” Hige spoke in a booming voice, nearly making Akamaru jump beside him at the sound, much louder than Gaku. “You didn’t come to say hello?”

“I didn’t know you were here, Oji-san,” Kiba replied, giving a slight bow of his head. “You know you would have been the first one I said hello to.”

To this, Hige let out a loud laugh that Kiba swore made the room rumble a bit, grabbing the attention of even the elderly dogs in the room, as he said just as loudly, “You’re just like Tsume!”

“Hey, Oji-san!” Gaku called out. “Quiet down a bit, you’re yelling again! And don’t laugh so loud, you’re gonna raise your blood pressure!”

“What?” Hige replied, glancing around the room for moment. He lifted up a hand behind his ear, and yelled, “Did someone say something?”

“I SAID QUIET DOWN, YOU’RE YELLING AGAIN!” Gaku hollered back, making Isamu cringe beside him, covering his ears with both hands.

“Take your own advice!” Isamu pointed out, before another layer of loud discussion occurred.

"Kiba-niisan's here?!"

A different voice hollered from outside, a lighter voice.

Ken’s here?! Kiba thought, nearly straining his neck from whipping his head towards the door. A small head peered behind Hige, short tufts of brown hair poking in every direction, a boy that was a few years younger than Kiba. The moment the boy’s piercing brown eyes met Kiba’s, his face broke into a big, wide smile, puffing up his markless cheeks and he started to run towards the kitchen, every step light and fast.

“Ken!” Hige exclaimed as the boy ran past him, an order for him to stop running, but he didn’t listen to a word the old man said.

“Kiba-niisan! Kiba-niisan!!” The boy exclaimed as he ran into the kitchen. “Mom said you’re a real ninja now!”

“Yes I am,” Kiba replied, keeping his voice as even as he could. He could never try to make his voice all soft towards kids younger than him- his voice did not allow for that.

“Where’s your headband? Can I see it?” Ken continued to probe, stepping around to look up at Kiba, hovering.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Kiba said, going into his pocket and fishing out his headband. The light of the kitchen caught the metal, giving it a gleam as Ken got on his tiptoes to peer at it with wide eyes.

“Whoaaaa,” Ken gasped as he blinked a few times. “Can I wear it?”

“No, you have to graduate from the Academy before you even think about wearing it,” Kiba said, quickly stuffing back in his pocket before Ken’s little hands could even go near it.

“Why is it blue?” Ken asked quickly, walking around Kiba to look up to him.

“I don’t know. You should ask your old man - he was around when they started making these things,” Kiba replied swiftly.

“I’ve seen headbands that are black, and, and, red, and-” Ken started to rattle off about headbands he’s seen, continuing to hover around Kiba. Kiba could feel his tolerance slowly grating away as he reached up to get a bunch of mugs, laying them out as he poured the boiling hot water into a teapot, the tea bag steeping the water a deep amber.

Hana told him that it was out of admiration, that he should be flattered that Ken looked up to Kiba since Kiba was the only male cousin he had, everyone else in the family being around Hana's age and older. Which, when Kiba thinks about it, yeah he did find it flattering, stroking his ego a bit as well. But that didn't stop Ken's constantly following him around like a tail annoying.

He had Akamaru for that.

“Ken!” another child’s voice, smaller and quieter than Ken’s voice, came from further away. Kiba glanced up to see another child, even younger than Ken, with a similar spiky brown hair that is apparently a common trait amongst the Inuzukas. “Where are you?”

“Kega! I’m in the kitchen,” Ken called out to the child, peering around through the open kitchen doorway. “With Kiba-niisan!”

Please, no more, Kiba looked up, the child’s feet pit-pat across the floor, the legs of his blue overalls snagging along behind.

“Kiba!” the small child exclaimed with a big smile, and he waddled over to where he stood, besides Ken, a good few inches smaller than the boy.

“Hello, Kegawa,” Kiba forced out, making his voice a bit less gruff for the kids, but dammit, his voice wasn’t built to be soft! Now, it’s not that he hates kids, and between the two brothers, Kiba really liked Kegawa because, well...he doesn’t talk as much as Ken, and was much more reserved, a stark contrast.

“Kiba-niisan! Come play with us,” Kegawa asked in a soft tone.

“Yeah!” Ken said in a much louder voice, suddenly tugging on Kiba’s shirt, pulling him as much as his seven year old strength could muster. “Come play with us! Come! COME!”

“Ken, my shirt!” Kiba protested, bordering on whining. Now his shirt’s gonna be stretched out! Kiba let a slight sigh as Ken let go, but the kid did not back off. “I can’t, I make food and everything. Don’t you want to eat chicken nuggets?”

“CHICKEN NUGGETS?!” Ken exclaimed, now enticed by the thought of food. Kids are so easy to distract...

“Yeah, I have to make it though,” Kiba said lightly, bending slightly with his hands on his knees. “I can make it with cheese inside and everything.”

“CHEESE?”

“Yeah, so if you and Kega play for a bit, I’ll make it and give it to you right away,” Kiba continued.

“Thank you…” Kiba could hear a tiny voice coming from the doorway into the living room. A little girl with two brown pigtails in a dress - Mimi, another cousin of theirs- came through the door, Hana right behind her.

“See, Mimi’s here too,” Kiba pointed out, and the brothers whipped their heads around at the same time towards the door. “Why don’t you ask her to play too!”

"Hey, Mimi!” Ken hollered immediately, running up towards the young girl, who stood idly as he grabbed her hand, tugging. “Finally! You’re here! C’mon, let’s go play outside!”

“Oh...okay,” Mimi said, following him closely, as Kega tailed behind her.

“Noka!” Ken called, looking at the portion of the living room where a few dogs laid around, and a black dog glanced up, looking at Ken. “Come play with us!”

“I’ll come out in a bit,” the dog, Noka, barked back lightly, returning to licking the fur on her paw. The dog wasn’t Ken’s dog, no, she was his mother’s ninken; ninkens tend not to leave their master’s side, however, when it comes to their master’s kids, on their master’s orders, they often are found to be a sort of caretaker for their child. Kiba doesn’t know how this specific dog can do it though; Noka was much older, equivalent to a human nearing their middle-age. And yet, she still manages to have the energy to keep up with both Ken and Kegawa.

Kiba let out a little sigh of relief as the three children ran across the room, slipping outside of the sliding door, leaving it slightly open as they were laughing in a childish glee. Finally, he can breathe a little more now.

A woman with red markings and a brown bob entered the living room behind Hana, interestingly wearing the flak jacket - she must've come here right after her shift. She immediately noticed Kiba through the open panel of the kitchen, and walked up to him.

Ah shit, here we go, Kiba thought as the woman affectionately pinched his cheek.

"Kiba-chan! Good job on passing!" The woman, Hachi, another aunt that was related to him somehow, or she wasn't actually related to him by blood, he doesn't remember, sang. He knew that she was Mimi’s mother, so likely she was blood-related. "I knew you could do it!"

"Thank you," Kiba managed to say, and she let go of him.

"Here's a lil’ something something," Hachi continued, and she produced a small envelope from her pocket,

"I can't accept this-" he started, actually wanting the money, but he knew he couldn't readily accept it.

Hachi immediately interrupted, pushing the envelope back to him, tatting, "Nuh uh. Keep it- buy yourself some new clothes for work or whatever you want to get."

Hachi was one of the younger aunts he had in the Inuzuka clan, though he wasn't sure how exactly they were related, she was one of the closer ones to him, he knew. She lived up to the young aunt role to anyone who called her Aunt Hachi - she was much more up to date with what was happening around the village, unlike the other aunts.

And she was the only one who gave out money as a gift when it wasn't New Year. It had helped Kiba out when he wanted to get something, but he didn't have the allowance for it or he knew Tsume would've said no.

“How many people are coming today?” Kiba asked when Hana entered the kitchen after Hachi left, who looked into the oven immediately.

"Everyone who can make it," Hana replied simply, as she took a pair of oven mitts that sat over the oven handle, putting them on as she opened the door. Immediately his senses were taken by the smell of food filling the space. He can't escape it- he could feel his mouth salivating. "That's why...you gotta give me a hand."

"What happened to Ma?" Kiba continued, waiting for the kettle to whistle while he watched Hana carefully place the large trays from within onto laid out towels on the counter.

"She should be here soon," Hana said, without much concern, her focus on the task at hand. "Tosa was out on a mission with her. He said she had to file a report with Uncle Tadao. Those things take a long while sometimes- you're gonna find out soon enough."

The doorbell rang, and Hana took off the oven mitts, heading out once again.

"Put the other trays inside the oven and set the timer to 20!" Hana said as she pointed out trays of meat on a different side of the kitchen counter.

"Please," Kiba emphasized to no one, taking the mitts and putting the trays into the oven.

It continued as such - more clans people entered the house as Hana greeted them, and Kiba was in and out of the kitchen to the dinner table, serving tea as more guests arrived and helping Hana with preparing the food. Eventually, the main courses were finished, and now Kiba simply stood by, waiting for Hana to signal that they could eat.

“Hey Ashi!” He heard his sister’s voice grow much chipper. “You decided to come! And who’s this little baby?”

"A baby?!" Akamaru barked beside Kiba, and started to bound excitedly away from Kiba towards the front.

“Hey, Akamaru!” Kiba replied, quickly following him, trying to catch him.

“Aw, what a cutie! Is this Kiba’s ninken? Sit!” A voice exclaimed delightfully, while Akamaru gave a cute ‘arf’ in response. Kiba peered around the corner, a young woman kneeling to the ground, as she petted Akamaru’s head, who had a tongue sticking out, panting. She continued, "Sorry, Ashimaru wasn’t feeling well!"

Kiba saw the young woman with long, dark brown hair and light brown skin, shorter than Hana in height, taking off her shoes. An equally young man stood beside her holding an infant in his arms, a bit paler than she was, and definitely taller than her, with ashy grey hair did the same. The woman had the red Inuzuka marks on her cheeks; the man, on the other hand, did not.

“Kiba!” the young woman exclaimed upon noticing Kiba, looking past Hana at him, and immediately entered the house. “Congratulations on becoming a Genin!”

“Thank you, thank you,” Kiba replied with a grin as he approached her, expecting her to give him a pat on the head, but rather, she reached over to pinch his cheek like a child. Because of course she would- every single one of them does this with him. “H-Hey! Ashi, leggo!”

“You might be considered a man now, but you’re still my little brother!” Ashi replied happily, letting go. “Aw, Hana, how’re they gonna let him go out on the field when he looks like this, huh?”

“Please, I’m not a kid anymore!” Kiba mumbled, rubbing the cheek she pulled, stinging. At this rate, he was getting worried about the state of his cheek at the end of the night.

Ashi was his cousin, not an immediate cousin, but she was one of Tsume’s nieces...from the many that she called a niece.

Growing up, Hana and her were close friends, always hanging out together. She treated Kiba nearly identical to how Hana would treat him, teasing him and treating him like an annoying little kid, but was much more obnoxious with it, unlike Hana who Kiba thought was at least, less loud and brash. It wasn’t until she started dating her now husband, that he hadn't seen her around the house. They got married two years ago, and immediately had, well...what her husband was holding in arms.

The baby looked blankly at Kiba, big round eyes staring as they watched him carefully, tiny fingers holding on to her father’s shirt, tufts of deep brown hair in pigtails with a bow on one side. Most of their limbs and body, rounded and curved, was covered in a long sleeved black dress, and some white bottoms and little socks with cute dog patterns around it. The baby, a girl named Akita, looked very much like an Inuzuka, despite her father having a starkly contrasting look from Ashi.

“You’ll always be that little kid,” Ashi mused, before turning around and heading back to the entryway. “Oh! And we got you something too!”

She rummaged through the basket that was under the red stroller, pulling out a purple gift bag, and held it up to him. “Here you go!”

“Ashi, you didn’t have to get him anything,” Hana replied. “He just became a Genin.”

“A Genin is still part of the force,” Ashi replied. “And Sanae thought you might need these! Your team is going to be a tracking team, right? You might want to start using these from now on.”

“How did you know?” Kiba asked as he accepted the gift, carefully peering through. Inside was a bag, sealed, with a few round purple balls inside, the size of a tennis ball. He knew immediately what it was, something that he has seen Hana and his mom packed when they were going to head out to a mission - smoke bombs. He hasn’t been able to practice with it, even at the Academy, the budget didn’t allow them to use every weapon, rather just look at it so they knew what it was.

“Everyone’s heard of the new Genin teams that passed by now,” the man, Sanae, behind them spoke up, his voice much softer than Ashi’s, and he took a step up the ledge. Everyone, Kiba assumed, was the shinobi forces. "Only three teams passed this year."

"Really?" Hana asked. "Last year, they only passed one."

“That one was an anomaly,” Ashi said. “Depending on how many teams they make, they put a limit; it’s always been typically 2-4 teams for about 8 years now? But, we are having a shortage of students becoming shinobis too, so that might be affecting our numbers.”

“They’re just not pumping out shinobis like they used to,” Hana replied with a shrug. “There were, like what, 60 students in my year? And we had about 6 teams that made it.”

“Yeah, it was something along those lines for me,” Ashi nodded, before glancing over to her husband. “What about your class?”

“Around that number as well,” Sanae agreed. “It was after the war, after all, so they really needed new shinobi. We had a lot more groups actually...about 10 teams?"

“Ah, that’s right,” Ashi sighed. “I forgot that you’re really old.”

Ashi quickly followed it with a loud laugh, while Sanae just smiled, not saying anything at Ashi’s joke at his expense.

Ashi continued, as they stepped inside, “I don’t know if it’s a good or bad thing that they have a limit with the number of students though. They should be lenient with it.”

“Nah, they’re like that so they can weed out the students that aren’t taking it seriously,” Hana added with a shrug. “Anyways, come inside, please. Kiba, please go make tea for both of them.”

“Alright,” Kiba said, refraining from groaning because, well, at least Hana said please this time. He was about to turn around, but not without bowing his head slightly. “I appreciate the gift. I’ll do my best.”

“Of course you will,” Ashi said, following behind Hana as they led them back down the hall, towards the living room. “You are Tsume’s kid after all.”

Right. He has and will always be known as Tsume’s kid...Hana’s brother… Kiba knew he had a lot more to live up to than most of his classmates had. He’s just going to have to work really hard to prove himself useful for his village.

They walked through the hallway, into the living room. The moment Sanae walked through with their child in hand, however, was when all attention from the rest of the clansmen turned towards them.

“Ashi brought the baby?” Isamu said, sitting up immediately to look over at Akita in Sanae’s arms.

“Hey, hey, where’s my hi, Uncle Isamu?” Ashi asked as she went around to the couches, leaning to give a side hug, to the people on the couches, receiving a nose kiss here and there, an unusual practice for those outside of the Inuzuka clan, but the constant norm they grew up with in the families.

“Yeah, hi,” Isamu said, distracted as Sanae brought the baby towards the center of the couches as he greeted his in-laws, letting Akita look around a bit, now looking a bit more happier at the multiple faces before her. “Sit here, Sanae.”

A demand, not a request, and Sanae looked at Isamu’s gesture towards the empty seat between himself and Gaku. Kiba could tell Sanae was thinking of something as he stared at the seat, and it took him a moment to finally respond with a hesitant smile, “A-ah, alright.”

Kiba watched from the kitchen as Sanae shuffled between the coffee table and the couch, his lean figure wedging itself between the two older men, their wide and muscular bodies taking up most of the space. He gave Akita to Isamu, who immediately swept the baby from his arms, lifting her up in the air before Sanae could protest. Akita, on the other hand, was making some happy sounds, and Isamu continued to gently lift her up and down, while cooing at her. Once Kiba finished making their tea, he placed it on the coffee table.

“Where’s your old man?” Haya asked as Ashi finally set herself down beside her after her greetings.

“He's still on a mission - he won’t be back until tomorrow,” Ashi said with a sigh.

“Already?” Haya asked, a quirk of an eyebrow. “I thought the doctor told him to take it easy with his injury.”

“Yeah, well, what can you do,” Ashi shrugged. “He sees it as a pride thing.”

“Nothing prideful about working with a busted kneecap,” Haya shook her head. Meanwhile, on the other couch, Isamu continued to play with Akita, now playing peek-a-boo while balancing her on his legs.

"Akita,” Gaku cooed from beside Sanae, quietly drinking his tea. “Come to Uncle Gaku."

"Uncle? You could be her grandpa," Tosa commented. Gaku immediately threw him a scowl.

"Don't mess it up for me- Tsume already made these kids call me old man, even when I told her not to," Gaku said while Isamu gently gave him the baby, holding the infant up in the air, before bringing her down to his face. “Who’s a cute little baby? Who’s a cute little baby? You are! You are!”

"Should've had your own, then," Haya commented, to which Isamu laughed.

"Gaku swore to never settle down," Isamu added as he leaned over towards the table, picking up the coffee mug that sat there.

"He made the right choice, then," Hachi replied from one part of the room, with a slight chuckle. "I can't imagine whoever he finds would stay for long."

"What is this slander?" Gaku scolded as he smiled towards Akita, who touched his beard curiously. Akita then reached out and tugged quickly on the tips of his beard and Gaku yelped. “OUCH!”

“H-hey, old man, you scared her!” Hana said when she saw Akita hesitate at Gaku’s yell, her face pausing momentarily as she began to frown. She quickly swooped Akita out of his hands when she let out a little cry. “Okay, okay, sh, sh, okay…”

“M-my bad,” Gaku hesitated, patting Akita on her back while she cried into Hana’s shoulder for a moment. Ashi simply let out a sigh.

“See, that's why Uncle Gaku can’t have his own, he doesn’t know how to reel in his own voice,” Ashi said, while she watched as Hana managed to calm her daughter down, taking a sip from her own tea. “He’ll just scare his own kid.”

“Sheesh…” Gaku mumbled as he took another sip from his cup, disappointed at Akita being quickly taken away from him. “I’m not even that loud- she’s just not used to loud noises, what, with Sanae-boy over here. And you managed to dial it back too, runt.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!" Ashi said deadpanned, but Gaku ignored her to reach a hand on Sanae’s shoulder.

Sanae nearly flinched at the sudden touch, his back much straighter now, and Kiba could tell that there was a rigidity to his form. Gaku then said, a bit of a smirk on his face, “How many more are you planning on having?”

“Oh we-!” Ashi started, but Gaku quickly interjected.

“Hold up, I’m asking Sanae over here,” Gaku said. “I haven’t heard the man talk in ages!”

Isamu decided to join in on badgering the young man, “That’s right! You’re not getting any younger you know! So how many are you two trying for?”

“Hm…” Sanae said, glancing over to Ashi, who watched him carefully. He then glanced around to the two men that surrounded him, expectantly waiting for him to respond. Kiba watched to see what he would say, knowing that this was their way of teasing Sanae, exclusively, and he could see his Adam's apple on his throat rise and fall as he swallowed.

It's not because he wasn't born into the Inuzuka clan, no, not at all. His Aunt Fuuko married into the clan.

It’s just because Sanae was an easier target than the other’s, with his quiet nature and his tendency to get nervous easily. Like he was at that moment.

“Maybe 3 more?” Sanae replied softly, earning a loud laugh from Gaku and Isamu. Ashi’s eyes opened slightly at his response.

“Atta boy,” Gaku laughed, smacking his back affectionately, and Kiba could see the embarrassment on Sanae’s face, the nature of the Inuzuka still making him flush, something that he was likely not comfortable with, only having married into the family 2 years ago.

“Get to it, then,” Isamu added, and they both let out a howl of laughter, while Sanae just stared into his cup, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Who the fuck-Oh shit, my bad,” Ashi started in a louder voice, before catching herself, glancing over at Kiba, alarmed.

"I already know those words," Kiba chimed in. "I'm not a kid anymore, please."

"Your mom better not catch you swearing," Ashi said quickly. She cleared her throat, continued evenly. “And besides, who's going to have more kids? Not me.”

“It’s not worth it, trust me. " Another voice, rougher and higher spoke from the entrance, drawing Kiba's attention. There stood his mother, with her green chunin vest open revealing the black shirt she wore underneath, the red swirl patch on the side. She had a square, white gauze along the side of her jaw, the lipstick she left with this morning wiped off and leaving a wine coloured stain on her lips. “Stick to a max of two kids, if you can.”

“Took you long enough, Tsume!” Gaku exclaimed as Tsume approached him, gripping her arm affectionately. “We can finally crack open the sake!”

“What, you guys didn’t give it to them, yet?” Tsume glanced over to Hana, noticing Akita in her arms and giving her a quick pat on the head. “What, do we not have any?”

“It’s not even that, we were waiting for more people to arrive,” Hana said, glancing over to Kiba. “Kiba! Can you go to the basement and pull out the cases?”

“Hana, let the boy rest, he’s been running around, serving everyone tea,” Fuuko said.

“Is that right,” Tsume said curiously, glancing over at Kiba, seeming a bit proud. “Well, you can do this last thing, and then you’re off the hook.”

“Seriously?” Kiba asked, and Tsume nodded, crossing her arms.

“Well, yeah, maybe this once,” Tsume said with a smirk. “You passed your test, and you helped Hana out. It’s fine- I’ll go get the alcohol. What do you all want?”

Tsume’s voice yelled into the room, and the clansmen yelled out their requests; sake, beers, umeshu, you name it. They likely had it in their basement, tucked away behind a closet, waiting to be opened whenever they had family over or whenever Tsume was in a good mood. The door was always locked, the key always staying in a specific place in the cupboard, and while the key was accessible, Kiba never dared to touch it.

Kiba had tried to sneak into this closet once, when Tsume was sleeping on the couch, drunk and sound asleep from what Kiba could see, and Hana was nowhere to be seen in the house. He saw the key, gleaming on the coffee table, beckoning to come and pick it up, and he put his skills to the test - he was able to get the key soundlessly, and made his way down the stairs, the closet glowing at the end of the basement. He was so close, so close to opening the door, but the click from the lock unlocking made him hear footsteps on the floor above, and in a panic, Kiba escaped through the basement window, making his way back into the living room through the backyard. He quickly put the key back in place, Tsume disappearing from the couch and, he assumed, making her way to the basement, sniffing him out, and left it back where she had left it.

Finally! Kiba held back his sigh of relief as he went towards the table. I can eat!!!

“By the way, look what I brought with me,” Tsume pointed a thumb back behind her, and there was a man, younger than Tsume with less white hair running through his black hair, the red Inuzuka marks on his cheeks, and visible eyebags on his tanned face, leaning against the door frame. “Where’s Ken and Kega? Tell ‘em daddy’s home.”

“Please, wherever they are, leave them alone,” the man sighed, his voice low and tired, as he stood back up, walking towards an empty chair that sat nearby the couches, having been moved from the dining table. Tsume laughed as she made her way to the basement to retrieve the alcohol, Kuromaru following her quickly behind. The man groaned as he took a seat, leaning back into the cushion.

“Tadao, here,” Tosa said, gesturing towards himself as he stood up from his seat beside Ashi. “Sit here.”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Tadao said, but even Kiba could tell from the way he shuffled side to side, he was trying to get comfortable on the chair.

“Now,” Tosa pressed, his voice, always grave, more demanding. “After all you did to track the payload, you need more support than me.”

After a moment, Tadao used an arm - his left arm - to push off the chair, the sleeve from his other arm swinging and swaying with each step, empty. Tosa took himself towards the side where Haya sat, leaning on the arm rest.

“Where’s the wife?” Hachi asked Tadao as he sat down, and he shook his head.

“Ah, you know. The Third is always working the Intelligence Unit to the ground nowadays,” Tadao said, flicking his left hand slightly, as he stretched his neck side to side, grunting slightly. “Kimi said she’ll come by as soon as she can, don’t you worry.”

“You should really see a massage therapist,” Ashi said, shuffling to give him more room. “You know it’s covered, right?”

“I don’t need that,” Tadao said. “Just get one of my kids to stand on my back for a bit and I’ll be fine.”

“Nice exploitation of their tiny feet,” Ashi said, shaking her head.

Tsume returned with a few long, white bottles in her hand, Kuromaru carrying a case of beers by it’s handle with his mouth. “Kiba, one more thing you gotta do- fetch the cups.”

“No problem,” Kiba replied, quickly going into the kitchen, getting all the sake cups, small white cups the size of a palm, and the longer beer glasses he could carry in his hands.

This was it. As always, when it comes to drinking Tsume is the first one to start the drinks and the last one finishing all of them. With his luck, since this was a bigger than usual celebration for their clan, hopefully his mom will get piss drunk within the next hour.

Kiba caught a glimpse of the sky through the sliding door, the blue of the daylight swapped with a deep pink and purple blend. The moon and stars should start showing any moment now- and he wanted to do what he wanted to do before it got too deep into the night.

That’d be more romantic, maybe, Kiba thought mindlessly as he placed the cups on the coffee table, the Inuzukas who wanted to drink - most of them, except for Tadao - gathered around, as Tsume poured the first bottle of sake, the clear liquid filling up the cup cleanly.

“Hey, Kiba!” Gaku said, gesturing for him to come closer. Kiba obeyed, and Gaku raised his cup towards him. “Here! Drink!”

“Uh-” Kiba hesitated immediately, and from the corner of his eyes, he watched closely as Tsume and Hana turned their attention to him.

“Uncle Gaku!” Hana exclaimed. “He’s underage!”

“Ah, c’mon Hana! I’m not offering him the whole drink,” Gaku said. “The boy’s a man now! A full fledged ninja, serving the good ol’ Leaf! You had a bit too, when you graduated!”

“Yeah, champagne, not sake!” Hana replied, and Gaku glanced over to Tsume.

“Well, Tsume? You gonna stop the boy?” Tsume looked at Kiba, who quickly glanced away, not wanting to move unless he got his mother’s okay. Gods knows what her mood was like today, but Kiba wanted to play it safe without getting an earful.

“Let the pup try,” Tsume said, curiously. “He’s not gonna take more than a sip anyways.”

“Alright!” Gaku put the cup in Kiba’s hands, Kiba stumbling to keep the cup steady in his hand, the liquid sloshing out slightly. “A toast to Kiba - the newest Inuzuka to join the Leaf forces and serve the Village! From here on out, you’re no longer a boy, but a full-fledged man! Kanpai!”

“Kanpai!”

“Kanpai,” Kiba mumbled, lifting his cup up towards them as they cheered and whooped, watching as Kiba put the cup to his lip. He hesitated slightly, the smell much stronger in his nostrils, and he could make out every element in this liquid, every fermented grain of rice that went into it. He quickly pursed his lips and sipped… before quickly coughing, the liquid burning as it went down his throat into his stomach. His chest immediately felt warm, a weird warmth he hasn’t felt before, but the taste was both sweet and bitter, if that was even possible.

“Well, now we know he hasn’t been drinking,” Tsume laughed as Kiba quickly gave the drink back to Gaku, who gave his back some hard taps.

“Of course, he knows you’ll give him a run for his life,” Haya cackled after downing her drink.

“You bet I would,” Tsume stated proudly, as she picked up the same bottle again. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s drink some more!”

“Uh, Mom, you should slow down,” Hana said cautiously, and Tsume gave a wave of her hand.

“It’s time to celebrate, Hana! Come here, grab something to drink,” Tsume said, as she filled up the cups once again, while chatter took over, as it always does in an Inuzuka household.

Hana just sighed in response, and came towards the side of the living room, where at this point, Kuromaru had brought more drinks by himself. She squatted down beside him, and asked, “You got anything light?”

“No ma’am, you would have to go out and buy it yourself,” Kuromaru spoke, his lips forming the words in their human language.

“Figures,” Hana said, as she stood up. “And we don’t have any chasers...Kiba. You want to go to get me some soda.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Kiba said as he watched Hana go to the front, pulling open the closet and rummaging through the coats that hung.

“Both,” Hana said plainly. “Just get me one of those 1 litre sodas. Here.”

Hana lifted her hand, producing a paper rectangle, a 500 ryo. Kiba grimaced.

“Don’t you have a 200? It doesn’t cost that much for sodas,” Kiba replied, and Hana just smiled.

“Use the rest of the money for whatever you want,” Hana replied. She then placed both hands on her hips, giving a quirk of her eyebrow. “Don’t stay out too late, alright? And no funny business either.”

“Wha- What’s that supposed to mean?!” Kiba exclaimed, feeling sweat starting to form on the nape of his neck, the tips of his ears heating up, watching carefully as Hana passed him.

“I said what I said,” Hana said with a shrug, and gave him a slight wave of a ‘see ya’, before returning back to the living room, the noise from the chattering and yelling never diminishing despite the wall that separated the room and the hallway.

“Alright, Akamaru,” Kiba whispered, despite knowing that there was no way his mother or anyone could even hear him from the amount of noise they were making. “Let’s hurry up.”

“Master! Where are we going?” Akamaru barked as Kiba slipped into his sandals, zipping up and strapping them in. Kiba didn’t reply, grabbing a beige hoodie from inside the closet, instead opening the door, running outside, Akamaru hot on his heels.

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

Kiba walked briskly through the main streets of Konoha, the winter night darkening the sky immediately, the streetlights along the sides illuminating the roads in a yellow hue. The streets were still bustling with folks making their way home from a long day’s work, shinobi and civilians alike on walking along the path with coworkers, friends, and families, some on their way home from work, other on their way to work, some on their way to their shifts,

The night was cool. Or, as cool as it could be for a January in Konoha. The wind provided most of the chills, and Kiba was happy he had the forethought to grab a hoodie on the way on. There was the scent of warm foods, mostly soup based items, he noted; ramen, oden, sukiyaki, nabe… All foods that you would enjoy on a cold winter night such as this. He inhaled sharply, the coolness of the air, filling his lungs, cooling his warm body, easing his heart that was beating loudly.

He glanced down to Akamaru, trotting alongside him, admiring the stores that lined up along the street. The lights from the stores casted shadows on the road, shaped in the window panel that were there.

The stores didn’t close for a few more hours, he knew, and this gave him the opportunity to take a quick trip towards the northern part of the village, tucked away near the land where the forestry laid outside of the training ground boundaries.

His hands were stuffed into the pocket in the front of his hoodie, fiddling with the headband and wallet inside.

Should he wear the headband? Well, there were no regulations about wearing it off-duty, clearly, since his mother would come home in the middle of the night still wearing it around her arm while drunk with her colleagues. But would he seem like a douche if he did? But he worked hard to pass that test, so maybe he does deserve to wear it...but no, he didn’t want to seem like a show-off just yet.

Hmm...Should he buy something before seeing her?

Nah, that'd be too much. But, then again, if he was going to tell her...how he felt...wouldn't it be better to woo her beforehand?

Should he buy a flower or something? Chocolates? Girls like that type of stuff, right? Akane might try to say she’s different from the other girls in their class, but Kiba knew that she enjoyed those types of things. What do guys his age typically do when they confess to a girl?

Maybe he should’ve asked Hana about this? He didn’t tell anyone about him meeting up with Akane to confess...he didn’t tell Itsuki, nor Natsuo...he didn’t even tell Akamaru, and right now the pup probably thought they were just going on a little stroll around town. Hana might have provided some information about what girls like and whatever...but no, he can’t tell Hana, because he knew for a fact that when it came to matters like this, Hana would tell Tsume.

And Tsume was adamant about Kiba staying focused on being a shinobi, telling him not to waste time on stupid things that would just waste his time in the long run.

But what does Tsume know about love anyways?

He’s not the one who chased his dad away.

Nah, I don’t think she cares that much, Kiba thought as he continued to make his way up the street, the road now sloping upwards in a hill. Konoha was unique in its layout- built near a tall mount, the streets are sloped and slanted in different ways, leftovers of the land before the Village had even installed the roads and buildings they had today. It made for one hell of a trip, though, and oftentimes the villagers would have to determine a route around the village that would enable more flat roads, especially for merchants that travel into the village on a delivery.

There were no shortcuts where Kiba was heading, though. He headed to the forest that was not used for training, a forest reserved for those who work in woodwork, to the Moritaka residence, a civilian family that had a history of producing the top master carpenters for the village.

The Moritaka handled a portion of wood production for Konoha to use and export, chopping down wood, processing them into lumber, and creating structures with it. The Konoha cemetery recently had to rebuild the torii of the entrance, rainfall from previous years having rotted through into the wood, and the Moritaka were responsible, from what Akane had told him with pride.

Akane kind of had her future already made for her, kind of like how Kiba already had one as a shinobi. She didn’t have to become a shinobi, and it’s not like being a shinobi was any less hard, especially physically. At least, as a carpenter, you don’t need to use chakra either, something else that made being a shinobi incredibly exhausting. And it wasn’t like Akane would have to pick up carpentry herself- she could just handle the business aspect of their company, and Kiba knew that she preferred sitting at a desk working on numbers more than using her hands.

Doesn’t matter, though, Kiba thought as he ventured deeper down a street, away from the main streets and into a path, the streetlights much further apart from one another, leaving spots that were darker. The path started to merge into a heavily forested area, lines of trees on both sides, segmented from the path with stone. The night sky could be seen better without the yellow of the lights, and he can see the moon starting to rise, a crescent. I’m a Genin and she’s…

Kiba hoped that Akane’s team passed for more reasons than just seeing Akane at work. Itsuki, Natsuo...they were his friends too, and while he was closer to the first than the latter, he had to have something familiar around him, people that he actually liked and grew up with in the same field, to keep him grounded and...well…

Comfortable.

Kiba soon noticed the path diverging, and he took the path that led deeper, where most of the trees stood haphazardly, thicker and taller in size compared to the trees he had just passed by. The scent differed as well - there were more evergreens here, a new variety of forestry that was always further away from the village. Further down, he could see a wooden house that stood, wide and tall, a singular floor, classical and traditional in nature, minka-esque but modern. The roof, rather than being tiled, was thatched. The lights were on, lighting up the surrounding area, and the front light was on as well, the front door opened wide. As he got closer, he saw a figure coming out, their long hair swaying as they held a tiny brush with an inkpot cradled in their palm, and a scroll on the other hand along with a lantern.

Kiba stopped in his tracks, and his once steady heart started to beat frantically. He was further away from any light source, enveloped in the darkness in between, and he knew that the person couldn’t see him from where he stood. The person started to make their way to the side of the house, towards the back, deeper into the forest.

Maybe he should wait before confessing. No! He told himself that when he graduated from the Academy, he would ask her out! He can’t be a wuss and back off right now! What kind of man does that?

“Akane!”

He called out to her without putting much thought, his voice cracking in between, and now he could feel a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Gods, when will his voice stop cracking?!

Akane stopped in her tracks, turning around to look directly at Kiba. Kiba gulped, clenching his hands into fists, taking a sharp breath to calm his nerves. He walked up to Akane, and Kiba was taken aback by what he saw - Akane had square gauze taped on the side of her cheek, scratches and redness evidence along her nose and her jaws. She still wore the outfit that she had worn the other day, but Kiba could see how the edges frayed, and she was no longer wearing her sandals with the heels, but her home loafers. She didn’t look bad, but she definitely looked like she'd been in a fight; clearly, from the test they had to take in order to become Genins.

“Kiba,” Akane said, her voice a bit lower than normal, a bit more isolated and distant. She must have noticed how Kiba was staring at the gauze on her cheek, and she quickly raised a hand towards it, attempting to cover it with her hand. Akamaru gave a light bark in greeting, drawing her attention towards the small dog. “And Akamaru...What...are you guys doing here?”

“Uh,” Kiba started, returning his glance back at her eyes, clearing his throat. “Uh, well..you said you wanted to meet up, remember? After our first day…”

“Oh,” Akane said slowly, hesitantly, twirling a strand of her purple hair, before she nodded. “Yeah, I forgot about that. My bad. I got home a few hours ago and...My mom wanted me to check the warehouse for a last inventory check.”

“It’s okay,” Kiba said evenly. “You weren’t expecting it either, right? You know...the test.”

He could see Akane’s eyebrows twitching inwards when he said ‘test’, the edge of her lips pulling downwards, into a slight grimace. She stopped herself before she could frown further, instead shaking her head. “Yeah. Took us all by surprise. Did you...see the guys before coming here?”

“Nah, I couldn’t, I was stuck at home with my family,” Kiba sighed. “I wanted to come see you as soon as I can.”

To this, Akane glanced away, but her grimace never left her face. “I see…”

“Do you want me to walk you to the warehouse,” Kiba suddenly said, gesturing towards the lantern in her hand. “I can take that. You’re carrying a lot already.”

Akane stared at him for a moment, looking like she was thinking. She then let out a slight breath, and held up the lantern towards him, before continuing in a much softer tone, “Sure. Don’t hog it. I know how scared you are of the dark.”

“Pft, me? Scared? I ain’t scared of anything,” Kiba chuckled as he took the lantern. Their hands brushed against each other. “Akamaru can protect us, isn’t that right, boy?”

“Yessir! Just leave it to me,” Akamaru barked, as he bounced his way in front of them, ready to walk once they started. Kiba glanced over at Akane, who now had a small smile on her face as she watched Akamaru.

They walked the rest of the way to the warehouse in silence, neither of them starting the conversation. Kiba was too preoccupied about what to say next...when should he confess? Now or later? Should he ask her about her day? Or maybe he should ask about the test...no, no, that’d be too straightforward. But he had another concern too that threw a wrench in what he thought was supposed to be happening...Akane was being unusually quiet and low, and very distant. He didn’t even need to hear her say it - she had an atmosphere around her that was unwelcoming, almost shut off. What should he say? What can he say-

“Let’s sit for a bit,” Akane suddenly spoke, gesturing towards the log that laid in front of the warehouse entrance, the top part cut through to create a flat surface. Kiba immediately sat down, thankful she said something first. Akane sat beside him, a little distance between them. Akamaru hopped on the bench, beside Akane, and Akane picked him up, putting him on her lap, as she patted his soft fur gently.

“How was the test for your team?” Akane asked, never looking at Kiba, keeping her eyes on Akamaru, who now laid on her lap, his eyes closed as her fingers ran through his fur.

“Terrible,” Kiba groaned, using his hands to lean back a bit on the surface. “Our sensei had the brilliant idea of capturing the flag thing with her headband, but the only thing is, she knows how to use genjutsu!”

“Yeah…”

“And we spent hours and hours just trying to find her by ourselves! She put me in a genjutsu and everything, it was so bad,” Kiba laughed. “The Academy didn’t teach us shit, but luckily I remembered what Iruka-sensei taught us with Kai, and I was able to get out...but we ended up with an hour left! So we had to team up and we managed together.”

To this, Akane looked up towards Kiba.

“We?”

“Well, yeah...Hinata and Shino,” Kiba continued, his voice a bit lower, reflecting on what had happened. “Shino made this whole plan for all of us to get the headband and we all had to...basically work together to get it.”

“For real?” Akane asked, quirking her head to the side, her bangs falling to frame her face. The moonlight looked nice against her face. She continued with a bit of a laugh, “Even with that creepy bug fanatic?”

“You know, I didn’t think I would ever get along with them,” Kiba shook his head. “But we did and...well...we got the headband in the end…”

Without each other, I don’t think we would have got it.

“So that means…” Akane mumbled, and Kiba knew this was the perfect time to tell her. He brought out his headband from his hoodie pocket, the Konoha leaf gleaming underneath the white moonlight, and he held it between them.

“Yeah,” Kiba said. “I’m officially a shinobi now.”

Kiba expected Akane to smile. He expected her to be her cheerful self immediately, grabbing him by the arm like she usually did, and congratulate him on becoming a shinobi. But instead, between the whiteness of the moon and orange of the lantern, he could see Akane’s eyes widening, her smirk dropping quickly as she stared at the headband. Her hand froze on Akamaru, no longer moving.

There was a silence that fell between them. Kiba didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what else to say. He was expecting her to have a better reaction- he did just pass a very gruelling test, the hardest one they ever had to take in their many years of training.

And yet...there wasn’t a sign of anything from Akane.

“So what about you,” Kiba broke the silence, his voice slightly hoarse.

“...” Akane looked away, staring straight at the ground, not saying anything.

“...Akane?”

“...We…” She paused quickly, hesitantly, her voice cracking. She gave Kiba a side glance, not being able to face him. “We...we failed…”

The air froze around them, the silence filled with the wind whipping past them, howling. Kiba stared at her, waiting for her to say “joking!” or “sike!”, but Akane just went back to staring at the ground, saying nothing more.

“Wha-” Kiba started, processing what he just heard. They...failed? How was that possible?

“Our sensei thought that...since we didn’t work together during our test...he failed all of us…” Akane explained. “He said that if we wanted to even think about becoming shinobi that we should...take it more seriously and go back to the Academy or just quit while we’re at it. Can you believe it?”

Harsh, Kiba thought, not knowing what to say. Console her? Say everything is going to be alright? She might get mad at him for saying that, she doesn’t like it whenever he is like that with her...

"Well...I guess there's always next year," Kiba replied, though he wasn’t even sure. Akane didn't look his way. "Right? You're gonna take the test again next year?"

Another uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Kiba could feel his throat running dry. The blood in his veins had been pumping non-stop, and it was making his heart beat louder, audible to his own ears, and the silence did not help the situation at all.

“Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” Akane asked, her voice sharper than before.

“W-what?” Kiba asked, and Akane scoffed.

"Forget about it. I'm gonna take the year off," Akane finally said. "Just gonna work for the family business as I figure some stuff out."

Kiba couldn’t stop himself from frowning.

"What? You can't give up now,” Kiba said, his voice a bit steadier, a bit more passionate in his tone. “We studied and trained super hard all these years just to get here! If you miss out on a year, you’ll have to catch up for another year! And you guys know better now...you can retake the test and pass-"

"Yeah, well, easy for you to say all that," Akane scoffed. "You're the one with the headband."

He was immediately taken aback. What was her problem? He was only trying to help; she was the one who wanted to be a ninja too...right?

And what’s going to happen to them if Kiba and Akane’s paths diverge here? Kiba would be a shinobi, while Akane stayed behind...what would happen between them...

"Well-"

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Akane asked suddenly as she got up. Akamaru quickly hopped off her lap, onto the ground, looking at her confused. "I have to finish logging in the inventory."

"Oh," Kiba said slowly, standing up immediately. "Uh...yeah… I guess I'll see you later, Akane?"

"Yeah...see you around."

Akane walked into the warehouse without another word, lantern in hand, never looking back as she closed the door behind her, leaving it slightly open. Kiba stood there, staring at the door, not knowing what to do, a vortex of emotions swirling deep in his chest. He was finding it hard to breathe.

He never got to confess but...he felt like he was basically being rejected, but not romantically.

He was now a shinobi. And she is, well... a civilian. And would likely continue to be so.

He was now shut out from her life.

And he felt his chest squeeze slightly, his breath increasing as he slowly walked away from the door Akane had closed. Is this what rejection feels like? Or is this what it feels like when a bond you held dear to you is severed…

I guess… I’ll never know, Kiba thought, continuing down the path he had walked on, without a second glance back.

#kiba inuzuka #shino aburame #hinata hyuuga #hinata #kiba #shino #naruhina #homeiswheremyteamis

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dreamljve · 4 years ago

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A Family Visit (Neville Longbottom)

A/N: hey yall! ive never wrote fanfic before so please go easy on me. suggestions/criticisms are encouraged as i literally wrote this for a class & want a decent grade. no warnings, just a sad neville but its a nice ending. also, i should note that im reading the series for the first time rn and i just started book 5 and this was inspired by the scene where dumbledore tells harry about neville’s parents in gof. im like 99% sure that you cant get to the hospital via floo powder but it was just easier to write it that way and i was already way over page limit. so... yeah. floo powder. just accept it.

Summary: Neville visits his parents the day of the Yule Ball.

word count: 2745 :)

With the end of the term nearing and the snow covering the ground, Neville once again was met with the bittersweet feeling of Christmas break. In the back of his Potion’s class with Professor Snape, Neville was counting the minutes down. Snape’s lesson was boring as usual, he was saying something about a Pepperup Potion but Neville couldn’t care less. This was his last class of the term. He planned to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas break for the Yule Ball, albeit his date was a third year, Ginny Weasley. Almost as if he could read his mind, Snape interrupted his daydreaming.

“Mr. Longbottom, can you repeat what I just told the class?” Snape squinted at him.

“Er-” Neville pursed his lips together and scratched the back of his head.

“I figured,” Snape rolled his eyes and his lips curled into a smirk. “I said that 12 inches of parchment will be due when you return from break. But that’ll be 18 inches for you, Longbottom. And 10 points from Gryffindor.”

The Slytherins in the front of the class snickered. Neville merely nodded. There was no use in arguing Snape, it’ll only end in more homework.

“Don’t worry, you could use the extra practice.” Malfoy spit at him. Snape glanced at the blonde boy with a disapproving look but said nothing.

“Why don’t you bug off, Malfoy?” Harry shot at him, standing up.

“Are you going to stop me, Potter?” Crabbe and Goyle laughed with Draco. Harry felt his face heating up. He was sick of Snape playing favorites. He allows the Slytherins to do whatever they please since he’s head of the Slytherin house.

“Sit down, Mr. Potter. Unless you want extra work.”

As if on cue, the bell rang. Harry grabbed his bag and walked over to Neville.

“Hey, you alright? Don’t mind them. The lousy gits don’t have anything better to do.”

“Hey, yeah, I’m okay. At least we’re free for the next two weeks.” Neville says half-heartedly as he stands up and walks out of the classroom with Harry. The two boys walked through the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room.

“Hey, I’ve got to talk to Dumbledore quickly. I’ll see you later though, yeah?” Harry says with a small smile.

“Right then, see you later.” Neville replies.

Neville watched as Harry jogged away. He wondered what he was going to talk to Dumbledore about. Neville turned and was met with the fat lady painting.

“Password?” She asks with her arms crossed.

“Oh, er-” Neville always struggled with passwords.

“Fortuna Major.” Ron says from behind him.

Neville mutters a small “thanks” and steps in through the portrait. He had planned to hang out in the common room, but soon realizes that his roommates were all in there. Neville hasn’t had a moment to himself since Summer so he decided to go upstairs to his room. He says a quick hello to Seamus and Dean as he walks past them. He went up the stairs and found the door to his dormitory. He enters and shuts it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief. He walks over to his bed and falls backwards, staring up at the ceiling. He started thinking about the holidays and how much he hated Professor Snape and his greasy hair. What kind of teacher just bullies students? Frustrated, Neville turns to lay on his side. He started thinking about how he was meeting his Gran the next day to go visit his parents. Neville doesn’t think about his parents often. How could he? He doesn’t remember them, thinking about them wouldn’t help anything.

But he still allows himself to think about them, from time to time. Neville’s Gran is a stern lady. Growing up, she worried that Neville was a squib, as he didn’t show early signs of magic very often. She often berated him, telling him he didn’t live up to his father’s honor. Neville couldn’t help but believe her.

Neville was proud of his parents, though. They were Aurors, their job was to fight against the Dark Arts He smiled at the thought of them being praised for their noble work. They were well respected amongst their peers, Neville wondered what it felt like. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his wand. It was his father’s. Neville runs his fingers along the wood and the not-so-intricate designs of it. Even though it doesn’t look like much, he knows it's powerful. Neville’s father had fought in the first Wizarding War and was an Auror with that very wand. He holds the wand a little tighter and brings it to his chest. Neville fought back the urge to cry. It was unfair. He never got to know his parents, they were good people who only wanted the best for everyone, wizards and muggles alike. Neville bit his lip to stop it from quivering and he sat up. He set his wand next to him on the quilt his grandmother gave him a few Christmases ago. He smooths the banket and stands up. It was getting late and none of his roommates were showing up, so Neville changed into his pajamas and turned on some music. He wanted to practice his dancing skills for the Yule Ball, so he started to pretend to hold a girl and danced to the music. He furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to get the footwork correct. After a few minutes, he heard a knock at the door. Startled, he quickly gathers himself and says “come in,” and Harry walks through the door.

Harry was quiet, he merely smiled and nodded at Nevile before grabbing his nightwear. His eyes had an apologetic look, as if he had just found out something sad about Neville. Harry is the only one who gets it, really. Both of their parents were taken down by the same cause, the only difference being that Harry’s are actually dead. Neville felt a shameful relief wash over him with that thought, he bowed his head and scratched his neck. He was getting tired, and decided to lie in bed. He turned off the lamp next to his bed and closed his eyes. He finally started drifting away as he heard Seamus and Dean enter their room.

The next morning, Neville is woken up by the sun and sound of birds outside their dorm. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, sat up, and stretched. Seamus, Ron, Dean, and Harry were all sleeping yet. Neville gets dressed and goes to the Great Hall, where he is met with Christmas and winter decorations. There are silver and blue streamers hanging about the Hall, as well as snowflakes covering the walls and hanging from the ceiling. The Christmas tree by the teacher’s table was decorated with white lights, fake snow, and a shiny snowflake on the top. There were presents under the tree wrapped in white and blue wrapping paper. “Bet they’re empty,” Neville thinks to himself, slightly chuckling. He finds his seat at the Gryffindor table and begins to eat his breakfast alone. There was a group of second years at the end of the table, laughing amongst themselves. Neville is already finished with his food when his roommates find their way to the Hall. It was 8:00 and he had to meet his grandmother in an hour. He was meeting his Gran in Hogsmeade to go to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in London. Neville and his grandmother had to have a special meeting with Dumbledore his first year about his parents. Of course, Dumbledore knew his parents and their tragic fate. He made a special exception for him this year, allowing him to leave to visit his parents for the day and come back for the Yule Ball this evening.

Neville ventured back to his dorm, muttering a quick “Fortuna Major” to the portrait of the fat lady guarding the Gryffindor common room. He stepped through and was met with Fred and George Weasley in the common room, sitting by the fireplace talking about something secretly. As soon as he enters his room, he grabs a coat and wand and lays them on his bed. Every time Neville visits his parents, he secretly hopes they’ll remember him, even though it isn’t possible. Neville felt his hand involuntarily tighten into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. He patiently sat for what felt like hours but was realistically 20 minutes or so when he finally decided to head down to meet Dumbledore. He grabs his things and puts his wand in his pocket with his right fist still clenched. He felt his nails break the skin of palm as he got more anxious with every step. When he finally meets Dumbledore at the stairs by the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Neville wondered why he was standing so close to the one-eyed witch statue.

“Good morning, Neville.” Dumbledore greets him with a soft smile.

“Good morning, Professor.” He returns the smile, but quickly lets it fade.

“I hope you keep this between you and me,” Dumbledore says cooly, “Dissendium.” Dumbledore says seemingly at the witch as he taps the hump of the statue with his wand. The hump opens just wide enough for a small person to get through.

“This will take you to the cellar of Honeydukes. Be back by 6:30 so you have enough time to get ready for the Ball. Have a good time, Neville.” Dumbledore smiles at him. Neville thanks him and wonders how many other people knew about this secret. He quickly snaps out of it and enters the passage, giving a final smile and nod towards his headmaster. The passage was cold and rather gross, so he just walked forward until he got to the entrance of the cellar. He opens the latch and enters Honeydukes, trying to be quiet as he enters the door of the store. He quickly exits Honeydukes. He walks to meet his grandmother at The Leaky Cauldron. He gives his father’s mother a faint smile and a quick hello.

“Glad to see you made it here safely, Neville,” she brushes off some dirt on his shoulder, “Are you ready to go?” His grandmother asks him.

Neville merely nods, he was never ready to go. He wonders how she is ready. Neville never knew his parents, so there weren’t many memories to miss, but his grandmother raised his father. Every year she takes Neville to visit but never says anything about how she is feeling about it. Neville furrows his eyebrows and looks at his only parental figure. For a second, he feels remorse for her. Losing your parents is difficult, but losing your child has to be the worst. Neville says a silent prayer to Merlin that he’ll never have to go through that pain himself.

Neville’s grandmother finds a floo system and pulls out floo powder. She hands him a handful of it.

“Do you want to go first?” She asks him.

“No, that’s alright. Have at it.” He just wanted a second without her to compose himself.

She nods and says “St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries”, throwing the powder down at her feet and vanishing.

Neville takes a deep breath and repeats her actions. He feels his stomach twist and turn as he travels. He tries to not focus on it by remembering it’ll end within seconds. And with that, Neville feels his feet fall flat on the floor and he opens his eyes. Letting his eyes adjust to the lighting, Neville subtle forwards a bit.

“Can you manage to stay on your feet, please?” His grandmother remarks.

“Er- yeah. Sorry.” He says lightly.

His grandmother shakes her head as they find the reception desk.

“Who are you here to see?” The receptionist asks. She had long blonde hair and enticing eyes. Neville stares at her for a second and thinks about how she reminds him of Fleur Delacour, the champion from Beauxbatons.

“Frank and Alice Longbottom.” Neville’s grandmother says with a slight smile.

“Right, just down that hall to the left.” His grandmother’s smile is returned as she points to a corridor to the right of the desk.

Neville thanks the woman and thinks about how she probably has her parents. She properly grew up with parents who knew who she was, with a grandmother who doesn't resent her. Brushing that thought aside, Neville and his Gran walk down the hallway that seems to be getting longer with every step. Eventually they find the door labeled “Visitation Room”. Neville exchanges looks with his grandmother as she reluctantly grabs the door knob, turning it. She pushes the door open and gestures for Neville to enter first, closing the door behind them. Neville felt his heart beat faster as his eyes found his parents. They’re sitting at a round table whispering to one another. Neville and his grandmother find their seats, sitting across from them. The boy’s parents stare at them with empty eyes.

“Hi Frank,” His grandmother smiles lightly, “Hi Alice.”

“Hi mom and dad.” Neville looks at them with gentle eyes with a small smile.

“Hello.” Frank replies with wide eyes.

“Hello.” Alice says, turning her attention to Frank.

“How are you guys?” Neville’s grandmother asks.

“We’re good. Although it is cold in here.” Alice says, hugging herself.

Neville’s parents usually complained about the cold when he visited during Christmas. The hospital does get significantly colder as the weather starts to turn. Do they think crazy people don’t need heat?

“Do you want to wear my jacket?” Neville starts to take his arms out of his sleeves, maintaining eyes on his mother.

She nods and smiles at him, and Neville returns the smile. He stands up and walks to his mom, wrapping his jacket around her and kissing the top of her head. She looks up at him and smiles wider, and intertwines her fingers together. Neville’s dad thanks him and places an arm around her. Neville finds his seat again, earning a pat on the back from his Gran. Moments like this are few and far in between, making it all the more special. Neville doesn’t have many happy memories with his family, so making both of his parents and Gran happy was an accomplishment in his eyes.

After almost two hours of mindless small talk, Neville looks at his Gran and realizes it’s time to go. His parents can only handle so much per visit, so when they start getting antsy and irritable they know it’s time to leave them be. Neville stands up and brushes himself off, holding an arm out to help his Gran stand up. Frank and Alice stand up as well, mirroring his moves. Neville smiles as he makes his way over to his mother, removing the coat from her back and embracing her. She reluctantly hugged him back. He didn’t blame her, he was a stranger hugging her. Neville squeezed her a little tighter, resting his head on top of hers. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were full of tears. He looks over at his dad releasing his hug from his own mother, who is also teary-eyed. Neville switches places with his Gran, looking at his dad for a second before he hugs him. Frank lightly wraps his arms around his son giving him a friendly pat on the back. Neville holds onto him until his Gran interrupts,

“It’s time to leave, Nev.” He is taken aback for a moment at the nickname, but then smiles. He releases his father and looks up at him again.

“I love you, dad,” Neville turns to his mother, “and I love you, mom.” He gently grabs their hands for a second before letting go. His Gran puts a hand on his back, rubbing it slightly. Neville feels his lower lip quiver as they walk to exit the door. His Gran opens it and gestures for him to leave first. He turns around to look at his parents, they look at each other and then at Neville, smiling and waving at him. Neville leaves the room and is greeted with the hallway of the hospital. He looks at his Gran as she closes the door with a final click. Her hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before turning to Neville with a tear spilling on her cheek and the slightest smile,

“How about we stop at Honeydukes for some candy?”

#harry potter #neville longbottom #neville longbottom fic #harry potter fic #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #neville longbottom fanfiction #longbottom family #fluff #hp fluff #frank longbottom #alice longbottom #draco malfoy #hp fic #neville longbottom imagine #harry potter imagine

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kenmasgameboy · 4 years ago

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【ｒｅａｃｈｉｎｇ】

an oikawa x seijoh president!reader

oikawa toru has so many girls falling at his feet, but it wasn’t always like this. when y/n met him there was no one yet to inflate his ego, when he was pure to himself, the person he is when it isn’t performative. she fell in love. after forcing a rejection from him, where he says he never saw her as a girl, she’s determined to become the absolute perfect girl for every one except him.

profiles: [ student council ] [ on the block ]

masterlist

listen to the mixtape while you read

↬ entry #1: age 6 ➺ chapter 1: age 18 ➺ next

age 18:

𝕚. different now

MAKE SURE TO READ THE WRITTEN PORTION BELOW THE CUT

Your hands felt like they were surely going to fall off at any moment. You never really did get used to being in front of big crowds like this. Even last year when you had to give your first speech as a presidential candidate to the school you wanted to burst into flames. Your hands always did this thing when you were nervous, ever since you were little they’d become so gross and clammy. You hated that about yourself. What a weak give away.

The principal was just beginning the ceremony, and you waited outside in the hallway until it was closer to your turn to speak, pacing back and forth you stared out the window. The mid day yellow light peaking through the large trees in front of Seijoh’s campus. You really loved these trees, they would always shake and rustle in new ways everyday, reminding you of ways that you could stand your ground but continue to change in your own way. Some seasons shedding yourself completely bare and growing a new color, or a new branch, breaking them off as you went.

Today, even the trees that normally would be there to offer you a quiet calmness didn’t help you today. Your body still succumbing to its stage fright. This was your first appearance as Aoba Johsai School President to your student body that you represented, you needed a perfect impression. You needed to be perfect. The more you thought about it the jitters in your hands only increased, you tried to loosen the tightness, shaking them from your wrist downwards in hopes they would just fall off. You always did this before volleyball games and it never failed you. You only stopped your nasty habit when you heard rapid footsteps coming in your direction.

“Hey, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Sora’s voice carried down the hallway. Your vice president had been looking for you. His chest heaved in breaths to try to regulate his body after running around.

“Sorry. I’ll be inside in a second, I just��” You said, pulling your hands behind your back to hide them. But it was too late.

“Are you nervous? Why? Everyone already loves you it’s not like they’ll change their minds now.” Sora said it lightheartedly, but there was a pressure that sat on your shoulders when he said it. An extra weight of expectation.

“Don’t say that.” You shrugged off the compliment, thinking about one face in particular. You groaned at the way he still had an effect on you. You thought of Toru’s eyes, “Not everyone.”

“Maybe not. You’re right, I can’t speak for everyone.” Sora smiled softly, “But as your Vice, I can speak for you. And I know you’ll be perfectly fine up there. I have full confidence. If you start stuttering, just take a second and keep going. We practiced this morning, right?”

“Right.” You nodded, your throat suddenly becoming overwhelmingly dry. “I know, I just have a lot on my plate today, there’s too much I’m not looking forward to.”

“Then let’s check one thing off, right? Let’s go out there.” Sora said, he grabbed your hand in his tugging you along. You weren’t ready, he wasn’t listening to you yet. But maybe he was right, you did need to be out there sooner than later. Still, you needed a few moments to collect yourself, to dampen your hands, something.

You couldn’t say anything, You became paralyzed in place as you looked at the back of Sora’s head. Your legs felt numb as they carried you in stride behind him down the hallway. His hand holding yours, it reminded you of someone again. Seeing him again this morning in class must’ve resurged these memories you pushed away as nothing. This was different, this wasn’t him. The back of Sora’s head was shiny and straight. His blond hair didn’t bounce, and he didn’t look back to smile at you. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach, it didn’t feel like nerves or anything like that. It felt like a settlement.

Your eyes ended up drifting off to the right, only slightly enough to catch the eyes that were more familiar than you remembered. His hair looking darker than when you were young, but it shined all the same. He still shined, even when he wasn’t smiling at you. Your eyes followed each other. The moment slowing down to make your first dose of eye contact in 2 years a dangerous and addictive cocktail.

Your hands were still sweaty, still nervous and shaking. It broke away from the confines of Sora’s palm. You need to grip them tighter when she’s nervous. The boy who stood innocently by the restroom found himself offering silent advice in his head. Toru couldn’t take his eyes away from the light that poured between the gap of You and Sora’s palms. It’s like he saw an opening, illuminating his opportunity and his body.

For the first time in ages, he felt the nostalgic need to grab those familiar sweaty palms. For a second he thought you’d stay with him, stay back and ask what he was doing in the hallway by the boys bathroom and not by your side? Why did he waste so much time? Did he think you were more beautiful today than every day he’s seen you before? He needed you to ask him those questions.

His daydream was over in a second, once your face contorted from the hopeful surprise of someone who used to calm you into a disappointed grimace of remembering the hurt he had caused you that erased everything from before. You kept jogging behind Sora, no words were exchanged. You didn’t need to say anything to Toru, he heard you loud and clear.

“I hope you regret it. I hope you regret everything. I’ll never trust you like that again, not really.”

To him, this was a challenge worthy of taking. The time to change it all was now.

***

【ｆｕｎ　ｆａｃｔｓ】

➺ Michi was late to the student arrival because she was slipping a love letter in Oikawa’s shoe locker. He didn’t even see it that day.

➺ Ito has really never spoken to y/n except she held the door open for him one day, he took that as she’s in love with him and too scared to tell him.

➺ Ito approached Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, and Oikawa when all four were together. It was actually Oikawa who told Ito he had no chance in hell with y/n. the exact words he used was “she’s not just going to fall in love with someone who’s never cared enough to get to know her first before saying something like that. theres no way in hell you’d have a chance with a girl like her.”

➺ the other three just kind of stood there agreeing but also like “.__, tough talk coming from you, Oikawa”

➺ y/n has been starting libero since her first year, despite debating dropping volleyball in high school she decided this would look great to universities that she was involved with more than just student council. she still was invited to girls Japan youth camp for her achievements as an athlete. regardless, she still knew her real reasons were that it was the last piece of something he gave her.

➺ unlike oikawa, y/n hasn’t even thought about dating anyone in high school. she’s been single her whole life despite getting a fair amount of confessions in her time.

➺ y/n also follows oikawa on a fake account.

taglist: @chibishae34 @bby-bokuto @shittykawaa @1-800-schmacked @artsamber @berriesii @bbyazu @roseestuosity @gaytoasterstrudels @mirdy47707 @trippy-kitty @iwanttogotopluto @hvneymun @a-listaire @princessmidas @glyxiebear @akaashiwife @anejuuuuoy @kiyoojima @deimmortales99 @unstableye @sugawarabby @haikyuufairy @ashaite @bettys-other-shoe @defchamseoul @honeymoneyy @animatedrapture @alexthe80swhore @nellieleverlin @forhyunryu @thosenerdy3amthings @mariachiii @dishonestkilla

reply with a comment or send an ask to be aded to the taglist!! if your name is crossed off it’s because i couldn’t tag you, let me know if you’ve changed your username!

a/n: wOW what a doOZY of a long first chapter, they all won’t be this long but i felt like i had a lot to set up. Let me know what you guys thought!!! i hope this guys got you a bit more hyped for this story! more to come!

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popculty · 4 years ago

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52 Films by Women: 2020 Edition

Another annual challenge complete!

Last year, I focused on diversifying my list. This year I kept that intention but focused on watching more non-American films and films from the 20th century. Specifically, I sought out Agnès Varda’s entire filmography, after her death in 2019. (I was not disappointed - What a filmmaking legend we lost.)

I also kept a film log for the first time and have included some of my thoughts on several films from that log. I made a point of including reviews both positive and negative, because I think it’s important to acknowledge the variability and breadth of the canon, so as not to put every film directed by a woman on a pedestal. (Although movies directed by women must clear a much higher bar to be greenlit, meaning generally higher quality...But that’s an essay for another day :)

* = directed by a woman of color

bold = fave

1. The Rhythm Section (2020) dir. Reed Morano - Not as good as it could have been, given Morano’s proven skill behind the camera, but also not nearly as bad as the critics made it out to be. And unbelievably refreshing to see a female revenge story not driven by sexual assault or the loss of a husband/child.

2. Cléo de 5 à 7 (1962) dir. Agnès Varda - If you ever wanted to take a real-time tour of Paris circa 1960, this is the film for you.

3. Little Women (2019) dir. Greta Gerwig - Still my favorite Little Women adaptation. I will re-watch it every year and cry.

4. Varda by Agnès (2019) dir. Agnès Varda & Didier Rouget

5. Booksmart (2019) dir. Olivia Wilde - An instant classic high school comedy romp that subverts all the gross tropes of its 1980s predecessors.

6. Girls of the Sun (2018) dir. Eva Husson

7. Blue My Mind (2017) dir. Lisa Brühlmann

8. Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019) dir. Céline Sciamma - Believe the hype. This film is a master thesis on the female gaze, and also just really effing gorgeous.

9. Belle Epine (2010) dir. Rebecca Zlotowski

10. Vamps (2012) dir. Amy Heckerling - With Krysten Ritter and Alicia Silverstone as modern-day vampires, I was so ready for this movie. But it feels like a bad stage play or a sit-com that’s missing a laugh-track. Bummer.

11. *Birds of Prey (2020) dir. Cathy Yan - Where has this movie been all our lives?? Skip the next onslaught of Snyder-verse grim-darkery and give me two more of these STAT!

12. She’s Missing (2019) dir. Alexandra McGuinness

13. The Mustang (2019) dir. Laure de Clermont-Tonnere - Trigger warning for the “protagonist” repeatedly punching a horse in the chest. I noped right out of there.

14. Monster (2003) dir. Patty Jenkins – I first watched this movie when I was probably too young and haven’t revisited it since. The rape scene traumatized me as a kid, but as an adult I appreciate how that trauma is not the center of the movie, or even of Aileen’s life. Everyone still talks about how Charlize “went ugly” for this role, but the biggest transformation here isn’t aesthetic, it’s physical – the way Theron replicates Wuernos’ mannerisms, way of speaking, and physicality. That’s why she won the Oscar. I also love that Jenkins calls the film “Monster” (which everyone labels Aileen), but then actually uses it to tell the story of how she fell in love with a woman when she was at her lowest, and that saved her. That’s kind of beautiful, and I’m glad I re-watched it so that I could see the story in that light, instead of the general memory I had of it being a good, feel-bad movie. It’s so much more than that.

15. Water Lilies (2007) dir. Céline Sciamma – Sciamma’s screenwriting and directorial debut, the first in her trilogy on youth, is as painfully beautiful as its sequels (Tomboy and Girlhood). It’s also one of the rare films that explores the overlap of queerness and girl friendships.

16. The Trouble with Angels (1966) dir. Ida Lupino – Movies about shenanigan-based female friendships are such rare delights. Rosalind Russel is divine as Mother Superior, and Hayley Mills as “scathingly brilliant” as the pranks she plays on her. Ida Lupino’s skill as an editor only enhances her directing, providing some truly iconic visual gags to complement dialogue snappy enough for Gilmore Girls.

17. Vagabond (1985) dir. Agnès Varda – Shot with a haunting realism, this film has no qualms about its heroine’s inevitable, unceremonious death, which it opens with, matter-of-factly, before retracing her final (literal) steps to the road-side ditch she ends up in. (I’m partly convinced said heroine was the inspiration for Sarah Manning in Orphan Black.)

18. One Sings, The Other Doesn’t (1977) dir. Agnès Varda – Probably my favorite classic Varda, this film feels incredibly personal. It’s essentially a love story about two best friends with very different lives. For an indie made in the ‘70s, the diversity, scope, and themes of the film are impressive. Even if the second half a drags a bit, the first half is absolute perfection, engaging the viewer immediately, and clipping along, sprinkling in some great original songs that were way progressive for their time (about abortion, female bodily autonomy, etc) and could still be considered “bangers” today.

19. Emma (2020) dir. Autumn de Wilde

20. Black Panthers (1969) dir. Agnès Varda

21. Into the Forest (2016) dir. Patricia Rozema - When the world was ending (i.e. the pandemic hit) this was the first movie I turned to - a quiet, meditative story of two sisters (Elliot Page and Evan Rachel Wood) surviving off the land after a sudden global blackout. Four years later, it’s still one of my favorite book-to-screen adaptations. I fondly remember speaking with director Patricia Rozema at the 2016 Chicago Critics Film Festival after a screening, her love for the source material and desire to “get it right” so apparent. I assured her then, and reaffirm now, that she really did.

22. City of Trees (2019) dir. Alexandra Swarens

23. Never Rarely Sometimes Always (2020) dir. Eliza Hittmann - To call this a harrowing and deeply personal journey of a sixteen-year-old who must cross state lines to get an abortion would be accurate, but incomplete. It is a story so much bigger than that, about the myriad ways women’s bodies and boundaries are constantly violated.

24. Paradise Hills (2019) dir. Alice Waddington

25. *Eve’s Bayou (1996) dir. Kasi Lemmons – I’ve been meaning to watch Kasi Lemmons’ directorial debut for many years now, and I’m so glad I finally have, because it fully deserves its icon status, beyond being one of the first major films directed by a black woman. Baby Jurnee Smollett's talent was immediately recognizable, and she has reminded us of it in Birds of Prey and Lovecraft Country this year. If merit was genuinely a factor for Oscar contenders, she would have taken home gold at eleven years old. Beasts of the Southern Wild has been one of my all-time favorites, but now I realize that most of my appreciation for that movie actually goes to Lemmons for blazing the trail with her story of a young black girl from the bayou first. It’s also a surprisingly dark story about memory and abuse and familial relationships that cross lines - really gutsy and surprising themes, especially for the ‘90s.

26. Blow the Man Down (2019) dir. Bridget Savage Cole & Danielle Krudy - Come and get your sea shanty fix!

27. Touchy Feely (2013) dir. Lynn Shelton - R.I.P. :(

28. Hannah Gadsby: Douglas (2020) dir. Madeleine Parry - If you thought Gadsby couldn’t follow up 2018′s sensational Nanette with a comedy special just as sharp and hilarious, you would have been sorely mistaken.

29. Girlhood (2013) dir. Céline Sciamma

30. Breathe (2014) dir. Mélanie Laurent

31. *A Dry White Season (1989) dir. Euzhan Palcy

32. Laggies (2014) dir. Lynn Shelton

33. *The Old Guard (2020) dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood – Everything I’ve ever wanted in an action movie: Immortal gays, Charlize Theron wielding a labrys (battle axe), kinetic fight choreography I haven’t seen since the last Bond movie…Watched it twice, then devoured the comics it was adapted from, and I gotta say: in the hands of black women, it eclipses the source material. Cannot wait for the just-announced sequel.

34. Morvern Callar (2002) dir. Lynn Ramsay

35. Shirley (2020) dir. Josephine Decker

36. *Radioactive (2019) dir. Marjane Satrapi – The story is obviously well worth telling and the narrative structure – weaving in the future consequences of Curie’s discoveries – is clever, but a bit awkwardly executed and overly manipulative. There are glimpses of real brilliance throughout, but it feels as if the director’s vision was not fully realized, to my great disappointment. Nonetheless, I appreciated seeing Marie Curie's story being told by a female director and embodied by the always wonderful Rosamund Pike.

37. *The Half of It (2020) dir. Alice Wu - I feel like a real scrooge for saying this, but this movie did nothing for me. Nothing about it felt fresh, authentic or relatable. A real disappointment from the filmmaker behind the wlw classic Saving Face.

38. Mouthpiece (2018) dir. Patricia Rozema - I am absolutely floored. One of those films that makes you fall in love with the art form all over again. Patricia Rozema continues to prove herself one of the most creatively ambitious and insightful directors of our time, with this melancholic meditation on maternal grief and a woman’s duality.

39. Summerland (2020) dir. Jessica Swale - The rare period wlw love story that is not a) all-white or b) tragedy porn. Just lovely.

40. *The Last Thing He Wanted (2020) dir. Dee Rees – As rumored, a mess. Even by the end, I still couldn’t tell you who any of the characters are. Dee, we know you’re so much better than this! (see: Mudbound, Pariah)

41. *Cuties (2020) dir. Maïmouna Doucouré – I watched this film to 1) support a black woman director who has been getting death threats for her work and 2) see what all the fuss is about. While I do think there were possibly some directorial choices that could have saved quite a bit of the pearl-clutching, overall, I didn’t find it overly-exploitative or gross, as many (who obviously haven’t actually watched the film) have labeled it. It certainly does give me pause, though, and makes me wonder whether children can ever be put in front of a camera without it exploiting or causing harm to them in some way. It also makes one consider the blurry line between being a critique versus being an example. File this one under complicated, for sure.

42. A Call to Spy (2019) Lydia Dean Pilcher – An incredible true story of female spies during WWII that perfectly satisfied my itch for British period drama/spy thriller and taught me so much herstory I didn’t know.

43. Kajillionaire (2020) dir. Miranda July - I was lucky enough to attend the (virtual) premiere of this film, followed by an insightful cast/director Q&A, which only made me appreciate it more. July's offbeat dark comedy about a family of con artists is queerer and more heartfelt than it has any right to be, and a needed reprieve in a year of almost entirely white wlw stories. The family's shenanigans are the hook, but it's the budding relationship between Old Dolio (an almost unrecognizable Evan Rachel Wood) and aspiring grifter Melanie (the luminous Gina Rodriguez) that is the heart of the story.

44. Misbehaviour (2020) dir. Philippa Lowthorpe – Again, teaching me herstory I didn’t know, about how the Women’s Liberation Movement stormed the 1970 Miss World Pageant. Keira Knightley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw’s characters have a conversation in a bathroom at the end of the film that perfectly eviscerates well-meaning yet ignorant white feminism, without ever pitting women against each other - a feat I didn’t think was possible. I also didn’t think it was possible to critique the male gaze without showing it (*ahem Cuties, Bombshell, etc*), but this again, invents a way to do it. Bless women directors.

45. *All In: The Fight for Democracy (2020) dir. Liz Garbus and Lisa Cortes – 2020’s 13th. Thank god for Stacey Abrams, that is all.

46. *The 40-Year-Old Version (2020) dir. Radha Blank – This scene right here? I felt that in my soul. This whole film is so good and funny and heartfelt and relatable to any artist trying to walk that tightrope of “making it” while not selling their soul to make it. My only initial semi-note was that it’s a little long, but after hearing Radha Blank talk about how she fought for the two-hour run-time as a way of reclaiming space for older black women, I take it back. She’s right: Let black women take up space. Let her movie be as long as she wants it to be. GOOD FOR HER.

47. Happiest Season (2020) dir. Clea Duvall - Hoooo boy. What was marketed as the first lesbian Christmas rom-com is actually a horror movie for anyone who’s ever had to come out. Throw in casual racism and a toxic relationship treated as otp, and it’s YIKES on so many levels. Aubrey Plaza, Dan Levy, and an autistic-coded Jane are the only (underused) highlights.

48. *Monkey Beach (2020) dir. Loretta Todd

49. *Little Chief (2020) dir. Erica Tremblay – A short film part of the 2020 Red Nation Film Festival, it’s a perfect eleven minutes that I wish had gone on longer, if only to bask in Lily Gladstone in a leading role.

50. First Cow (2019) dir. Kelly Reichardt – I know Kelly Reichardt’s style, so I’ll admit-- even as I was preparing for an excellent film, I was also reaching for my phone, planning on only half paying attention during all the inevitable 30-second shots of grass blowing in the wind. (And yes, there are plenty of those.) But twenty minutes in, my phone was set aside and forgotten, as I am getting sucked into this beautiful story about two frontiersman trying to live their best domestic life.There is only one word to describe this film and that is: PURE. I’ve never seen such a tender platonic relationship between men on screen before, and it’s not lost on me that it took a woman to show us that tenderness. Reichardt gives us two men brought together by fate, and kept together by a shared dream and the simple pleasure of not being alone in such a hard world; two men who spend their days cooking, trapping, baking, and dreaming of a better life; two men who don’t say much, but feel everything for each other. The world would be a much better place if men showed us this kind of vulnerability and friendship toward each other. Oh, and it’s also a brutal take-down of capitalism and the myth of the American Dream!

51. Wonder Woman 1984 (2020) dir. Patty Jenkins - My most-anticipated film for the past two years was...well, a mixed bag, to say the least. Too many thoughts on it for a blog post, so stay tuned for the upcoming podcast ep where we go all in ;)

52. *Selah and the Spades (2019) dir. Tayarisha Poe

I hope this gives you some ideas to kick off your new year with a resolution to support more female directors!

What were your favorite women-directed movies of last year? Let me know in the tags, comments, or asks!

#finally finished this #52 films by women #2020 #writing #movies #movie reviews #orig

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drawlfoy · 4 years ago

Text

The Wonders of Ohio P.5

masterlist (check here for parts 1-4!) request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: from 14 year old me babey

warnings: cringe, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, language, and just bad writing

summary: y/n is in her senior year of high school when she is asked to take on an exchange student from britain that’s a little...different. this is NOT a nonmagic AU. draco is still a wizard and this will become and integral part of the story shortly.

a/n: heyyyy everyone. i graduated from high school this week and i’m posting this as my happy-one-year-to-me. as some of you may know, i posted my very first fic on this day a year ago. i’m really happy to see how i’ve grown since and i’m so lucky to have shared this with all of you. anyways, nittygritty--

this part is really the last slow exposition chapter. chapters 6 on will be a whole whirlwind beginning with homecoming and i hope that you guys are willing to stick around. i promise itll be worth the wait. y/n is going to get the story arc of a lifetime and also please do not hate heather she is just going through it ok

anywayssssssss

tags tags tags @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural

word count: 4.6k (;))

song recs:

strawberry blonde -- mitski

in your neighbors garden -- mimi bay

wishes -- beach house

ode to artifice -- samia

pink in the night -- mitski

enjoy <3

The seatbelt buckle scorched the side of Y/N’s exposed neck as she turned to face the disheveled blonde in the passenger seat.

“Do I need to teach you to set an alarm?”

Draco let out a huff. “Stop. Do you have a….a comb, or a brush, or something here?” His hands looked abnormally fidgety. Their actions were shaky, varying from patting his pockets to running through his hair. He seemed more and more frustrated each time his hands left his pockets empty.

How curious Y/N thought as she racked her brain for any remembrance of putting a brush in her car. It was always a mess, and she honestly couldn’t blame Draco for assuming that anything could be in there.

“I don’t think there’s one here,” said Y/N, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic despite the fact that his tardiness had them 10 minutes late. “You can look around if you want, king.”

“What’d you call me?” His voice was suddenly sharp and awake.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they’d get stuck in the back of her head. “You don’t--ok. It’s a joke. You can call guys here that.”

“And it means that I’m…?”

“It means I’m acknowledging that you exist, I guess. It’s not like it has a strict negative or positive connotation. Like, I can say ‘Ok king’ to any man telling me something and it can either be sarcastic, or it can be because I don’t know what else to say and just want to let him know I heard him.”

Draco’s eyes looked a tad glazed over when Y/N dared a glance in his direction.

“I know it’s confusing. I’m sorry. I’ll try and ease you into the world of American slang.”

He granted her a little “uh-huh” before opening up the glovebox with great difficulty and rummaging through the mess. Y/N would’ve felt more embarrassed about the tampon that fell on the ground in the process if he seemed like he actually knew what it was.

Her attention turned back to the road as Draco continued to sift through things. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything embarrassing hidden away in the corners of her car--after all, it hadn’t been organized since the beginning of summer--and decided that it was better to pretend it wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t the eerie silence that eventually prompted her to turn to look his direction--no, it was the weird energy in the car, like the feeling right before a thunderstorm. All the hair raised on her arms, and she shivered...but it was stifling hot in the car.

“Oh, did you find a brush?” she asked. His hair laid as perfectly as always, but his hands were lying shaking in his lap, palms to the sky. No hairbrush was in sight.

“Er... “ He was paler than usual, which was quite the feat for someone who looked like a ream of paper. “No. Just remembered a trick my father taught me.”

She tensed at the mention of his father--the very first time Draco had done so. “Oh. Okay. Glad you got it figured out, king.”

Her voice lightened on the last word, hoping she could coax a little smile out of him.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Ok.”

oOo

There were many things Y/N thought she understood, but Draco Malfoy being in her Physics C class was not one of them. She took pity and sat next to him as he fumbled his way through the first lecture. His notes, while neat, were littered with crossed out portions and question marks.

You do know there’s an eraser on your pencil, right? she jotted on a note that she sent his way. His brow furrowed and he seemed to tap at the end of the eraser for just a few moments before deciding otherwise and xing out another practice problem he’d done incorrectly. Symbols that she’d never seen before were scattered all throughout his notes.

Maybe the UK kids just learn stuff differently.

By the time that Physics came to an end, Y/N was eager to get away from the storm cloud that was brewing over Draco’s perfectly smoothed and infuriatingly pretty moonbeam colored hair. The amount of attention he was getting from all the other girls made Y/N want to jump off a cliff--suddenly everyone was her “best friend” “just wanting to check up on what happened over summer”. She was grateful to see the face of Lizzy, grinning and looking mischievous during their break period.

“You must be Draco,” said the redhead, a glint in her eyes. He looked a little scared.

“Er...yeah.”

“Mind giving us some privacy? Y/N and I have some urgent matters to discuss,” she continued, looking him up and down. Y/N attempted to ignore the twist in her gut as she watched him swallow and nod, turning away to go brood elsewhere. Once he was out of sight, Lizzy grabbed her arm and yanked her into the girl’s bathroom.

“It’s so funny how he’s following you around like a lost puppy,” Lizzy said. “Also, he’s gorgeous. If you don’t at least try to get some of that, then I’m never trusting your judgement again.”

“But, Li-”

“The boy’s a fucking walking Wattpad story cover. Dark, tragic past, unbelievably sharp jawline, rich parents, exotic accent....honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what else you could want.”

“Mom literally called him my host brother,” said Y/N. The bathroom was starting to smell suspiciously like cotton candy. “That’s wrong. On so many levels.”

“But you’re not related!”

“But it’s gross! And predatory! The kid doesn’t even know how to do basic algebra! I’m all he has!”

Lizzy’s eyebrow found its new home in the middle of her forehead. “You’ve gone absolutely batty if you think that every girl cursed with attraction to men in Cincinnati wouldn’t jump his skin at the chance. Use your head, queenie. He’s not alone. Shoot your shot.”

Y/N opened her mouth to serve back a retort--that was definitely there, thank you very much--but decided against it once she realized that the bathroom had become dead silent. “Um...maybe we can go over this later.” She flickered her eyes over to the line behind them that was now intently hanging on their every word. “I forgot I had to talk to the counselor.”

Lizzy was smirking as they exited the bathroom and began the search for Draco. It didn’t take long--the circle comprised of Heather and her friends was more than enough of a giveaway that he was about.

“Draco, sorry to make you wait,” Y/N called out. It took all her effort to abstain from cringing as her voice rang out across the group. Heather turned to send her a big smile.

“Hey Y/N! You didn’t tell me that Draco was from London!”

“He’s not,” she responded. “He’s from Wiltshire.”

“Wiltshire. Of course. That’s what I meant.”

Draco’s smile was tense as he looked down at Heather--who stood roughly 4 inches below him--but he was smiling, and that wasn’t something that Y/N was on the receiving end of frequently. She didn’t know whether to be offended or relieved.

“I’m sure. Break’s almost over, Draco. I can show you where the English department is before the time is up.”

He paused, looking down at the blonde grinning up at him. “Er, actually, Heather already offered to show me around for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll see you in French.”

Y/N was shocked at the sheer amount of jealousy that rose up in her throat as she turned away and made her way to Art History---the only class Y/N and Draco didn’t share. The walk was strange. Being in solitude after having a gloomy British boy attached to her hip was understandably eerie. Because that’s all it was. Adjustment. Nothing else.

She settled in at a table full of her friends, namely Sylvia. The tall girl was always a bit whimsical, but Y/N found that she was a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. It made sense that Sylvia would take Art History--her dark academic inspired aura and the perpetually hot mug of black coffee just screamed history nut.

“How’s your new brother?” she asked after the teacher had taken attendance. “I say that because I haven’t heard his name yet.”

“Ick, it’s gross to think of him as my brother,” Y/N responded. “And I know! We need to catch up. I’m sorry about not talking to you for a bit. The time difference was a bit weird during your trip.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was away on family business, anyways. I didn’t expect you to spend your days staying up until the wee hours of the night to tell me all about your exchange student. Anyways. His name?”

“You’re gonna scream when you hear it, Vie,” she said. “Draco Malfoy. It’s so posh. You have no idea. It definitely suits him, though. He’s very...You good?”

Sylvia’s olive toned face looked a bit paler than usual. “Yeah. Yeah, I just remembered that I forgot to take the trash out this morning. I’ll have to text my mom about it.” She adjusted the wool cardigan that hung around her shoulders and came up looking composed. “Draco, huh? His parents must hate him.”

“At the very least! He’s so rude. And uptight. I can’t tell if it’s just a Brit thing or if it’s because he’s an asshole.”

Sylvia laughed. “I mean, when I was there over the summer, it was a different culture for sure. We’re by far louder. But I didn’t meet many mean ones. You must’ve just got a bad apple, then.”

“I guess so. He is pret--”

“Ladies, is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?”

“No, Mrs. Jensen,” Sylvia and Y/N said in unison.

oOo

“Thoughts, king?”

“I told you not to call me that.” Draco glared at her as he tried to open the passenger side door to find that it was locked tight. “Unlock? Please?”

“And I told you not to get cozy with ASB kids, yet here we are,” said Y/N as she slotted the key into the lock and turned.

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothing. I’m just looking out for you.” She slammed the door shut and threw her bag in the bag. The line of traffic to get out of the school was long and stuffy, and she was eager to just get it over with.

The wait was so hot that Draco peeled off his stupid formalish jacket that was on thin ice of being called a blazer and probably worth more than her car. Y/N tried to look away as his hair became slightly ruffled, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away. It was endearing, almost, how someone who could look so posh and serious could have ruffly hair--and hair that naturally light, too. She had asked him one night if it was dyed, and he scowled at her and told her the grammatically correct term was dead, and that his hair was alive, just like the rest of him, thank you very much. She dropped it.

Y/N finally rolled down her window after the AC simply refused to satisfy her, and the wind was a nice reminder to keep in her own lane. Draco was beautiful. There was no other way to put it. He had a feel of power to him, like he was capable of anything but just held it back. But he was just as inaccessible as he was pretty, and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Y/N?” He asked after a few moments of sitting in silence. “What’s Homecoming?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Heather. She asked if I had a date. Is that like a ball here?”

“She asked you if you had a date on the first day?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. ASB kids never do sleep, huh.”

“What?”

“Homecoming isn’t a ball. It’s like a...an…” Y/N paused as she saw Draco raise his eyebrows. “It’s, like, uh….Well I guess it is like a ball. An American one, though. Way less extravagant. It’s an excuse to get dressed up and run around the city. There technically is a dance, and all the ASB kids have to go, but literally no one else does but the underclassmen. Normally I go out with my friends and a date to somewhere fun and take pictures. And then get trashed afterwards.”

“Classy,” said Draco. “I think you can go now.”

A honk behind her emphasized his point as the space in between her and the car in front widened substantially.

“Thanks. Anyways, it’s not really a big deal. I’d suggest not going with Heather so you can skip out on the dance portion. Or if you want to go with her, get her to come with us into Cincinnati because I am not going to spend my last homecoming watching a grind circle.”

“A...what circle? And I don’t want to go with her.”

The relief Y/N felt was embarrassing. “Um...better if you don’t worry about it. You have a long time to figure it out anyways.”

He seemed satisfied with that answer, propping his elbow up on the center console. The pristine button up he was wearing had ridden up, exposing the pale skin and the bottom of the tattoo she had seen a hint of earlier. “Do you have a date?”

“Um. No, not yet. I don’t think anyone except for couples do yet. We have until the end of this month to figure it out, so I’m not too worried about it.”

He nodded as Y/N’s car finally left the school parking lot and began picking up speed.

“I’m assuming you had balls? At your posh boarding school?”

“Er…” Draco ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it further. “We only had one. It was when I was 14. We called it the Yule Ball.”

“Why only one?”

“It was for a special occasion. We had two other schools join us as well. It was quite a good time.”

“So every student only has one ball in their lifetime?”

“Of course not. Some of us--the ones from old families--have events like that regularly.”

“I’m sorry if this is overstepping my bounds,” began Y/N, noticing how he tensed up, “So you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, I’m just wondering, what is your family like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like are they nice?”

“Oh.” The line in his forehead relaxed. “No. They wouldn’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “Do you like them?”

She heard the breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t know anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s hard to think about it when you feel like they’ve just shipped you off without anyone,” she added. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I know I’ve been a bit mean to you. I know that I’ll never be able to understand what you’re going through right now.”

The slight smile that spread across his face would’ve knocked her to her knees if she wasn’t already sitting down. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

The silence that awaited them for the rest of the journey was comfortable.

oOo

School began to pick up the pace after the first few days. Y/N got into the swing of homework and her extracurricular workload. Draco was having a bit more difficulty, she presumed, but he’d never admit to it. She took pity one evening and gave him her laptop opened to a Khan Academy tab for Physics and was pleased to see that he showed up to class the next day with completed homework. He asked to borrow her laptop on a much more frequent basis after that.

The routine they settled into had her heart leaping into her chest almost constantly--they’d eat breakfast together at the table, Y/N would try to ignore how pretty he looked across the table as they shared a pot of black tea (earl grey, which Y/N was thrilled to learn was his favorite as well), they’d get in the car, she’d write him notes in physics to help him (even though he never asked, he always smile and give a little shake of his head before unfolding them and intently staring at her writing), they’d drive home together and bitch about their French teacher, he’d retire to his room and do whatever pretty blonde Brits do in the afternoon, they’d meet unexpectedly at the same time in the late evening to have a final cup of tea, and then they’d go to bed and do it all over again.

It was difficult for her to admit, but Y/N was falling very quickly for Draco. It was gross, and wrong, and manipulative, and completely against the code of conduct for exchange families, but she couldn’t help but spend her days fantasizing about how his gold-spun hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it or how gently she’d trace her fingers around the tattoo on the soft flesh of his forearm…

But Y/N knew those thoughts weren’t right. And they would go away. Eventually.

“How’s it going?” Sylvia asked, effectively snapping her out of her thoughts. The Art History sub told them to go into independent study, whatever that meant. Y/N was not very good at either of those words.

“Pretty good. I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks already,” she said. “It’s gonna be Halloween before we know it.”

“I can’t fucking waitttt,” said Sylvia. “I’m gonna be Wednesday Addams.”

“Again?”

“What else would I be? I get a new high collared black dress every year. It’d be a shame if it were going to go to waste. What are you gonna be?”

“One of the thousands of students finishing their UChicago ED app hours before the deadline.”

“You’re kidding. Can’t you just finish it the day before?”

“Where’s the fun in that? And, plus, I don’t have an idea as cool as Wednesday.”

Sylvia smirked as she opened up her planner and began to jot down something. “How’s Draco doing? I haven’t seen much of him lately. It seems like he never hangs out with us at break anymore.”

“Yeah, I ended up getting him connected with the Physics teacher. He’s getting tutored now. He thinks it’s all bullshit, but I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get into a good school.”

“Is that all you care about?” She smiled at Y/N. “Lizzy was telling me that you’re interested in him.”

“First of all, keep your voice down. Second of all, I’m not supposed to be, so I’m not.” Y/N hoped that the edge in her voice was convincing enough.

Her friend raised her eyebrows so dramatically that her glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Y/N, who’s gonna hear about it. You guys are both going away at the end of the year anyways, and I’m sure he’s not going to be writing to his dear mum about his love life. If it’s consensual, there’s nothing wrong with it. I think it’d be good for both of you.”

“I see that, but let’s put me in his shoes right now.” Y/N shuffled in her seat and clasped her hands. “I’m rich. I’m British. I’m very hot. My parents throw extravagant balls for me and I kiss pretty girls that say water like ‘wota’. I’ve spent my life in silk and I only drink the finest teas. My family is so important that I had to be shipped off halfway across the world just to be safe. And now my incredibly expensive life has reached a peak because I’m sleeping with a random girl in Ohio that has run approximately 4 stop signs since I’ve met her.”

“You’re sleeping with Draco?”

Y/N turned to see Lauren, a wide-eyed, obnoxious, but well meaning girl staring at her. She heard Sylvia stifle a laugh behind her. “No. I was kidding.” The smile that she followed with was awkward and showed way too many teeth.

“Oh, okay,” said Lauren. “Do you know if he likes anyone?”

Sylvia’s smirk widened.

“No, actually, he’s a pretty private guy.” Y/N sent her another tense smile, and Lauren finally turned away.

“Jealous, huh?”

“Shut up, Vie. You know I wouldn’t go for him. Even if I had the chance.”

She just raised an eyebrow and smiled.

The afternoon brought its own set of struggles. Their French teacher had blown up at another student who had been caught cheating on their last test, and it was all Y/N could do but hold back her snickers until they were out in the parking lot.

“I can’t believe they still managed to conjugate their cheat sheet wrong.” Y/N was gasping for breath as she unlocked the car door and threw her stuff inside. Draco was watching from the passenger seat, his lips in a soft upturn. “Can you imagine? Oh my god.”

He just shook his head and turned to look out the window, but she could see the smile slowly stretching across his face. “Ridiculous. You could totally tell Monsieur enjoyed it, too. I bet he gets off on making kids like Joey cry.”

“I had a teacher like that,” he started. “He was a Poti-a chemistry teacher.”

“Oh? Did he ever attack you?”

“No. He liked me. Family friends and all.”

“Ah. I almost forgot that your family was rich and influential. Thanks for the reminder.” She reached across and lightly punched his shoulder. His smile, though still remaining, seemed to shrink. “Hey, what’s that in your bag?”

Y/N motioned to the cardstock peeking out of his nondescript black backpack that always seemed to fit more than it was meant to. She could make out a few words written in what looked like a bright red sharpie--something that did not exactly scream Draco Malfoy aesthetic.

He froze up. “Er. It’s from Heather. I think she called it a Homecoming ask?”

Y/N’s throat dried up to the point that no words would willingly make the climb from her diaphragm to her tongue; instead, she settled for giving him a little nod and what she hoped was a convincing smile.

“I told her I’d think about it,” he continued. “I remember you saying that the school dances sucked. So I let her know that I wasn’t sure yet.”

She nodded again. “Super cool. You can do whatever you want, though. You can come with my group if you’d like, but you’re welcome to go with Heather’s.”

“What? So you aren’t coming with me if I go with Heather?”

“Fuck no, dude. I don’t hate her, but I would way prefer to spend a night with my friends than some girl from my French class that only talks to me because she thinks you’re hot.”

The expression Draco made reminded Y/N that he would never get comfortable with American girls calling him hot. “Ok. Have you found a date yet?”

“Chad from Econ asked me yesterday.”

“Is that why my seat was covered in glitter?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going with him?” Draco’s hand was clenched tight in a fist in his lap.

“I think so,” said Y/N, steeling herself and deciding to just go for it. “But, of course, if you asked me I would say no to Chad. Just out of principle. I am supposed to be your tour guide, after all.”

The only parts of him moving were the few stray wisps of his hair being pushed around by the AC going.

“But that’d be weird. I’d only expect you to take that up if you really didn’t want to go to the dance itself.” She swallowed and pulled out onto the main street, putting distance between them and the school. He was silent for a few moments. The quiet, normally comfortable between them, was stifling and strange. She pretended to ignore the way he was fiddling with his cuffs.

“Yeah, it could be,” was all he said before slumping against the window and closing his eyes.

Mrs. Y/L/N was sitting at the head of the coffee table when the two arrived home, carding between a stack of letters in front of her. The mug of something--probably that new decaf blend she hadn’t stopped raving about--was sitting lopsided on a coaster, just barely about to topple off the edge. She looked like she hadn’t moved for hours, the novel she had been previously reading sat face down to preserve the spot next to her no doubt lukewarm drink.

“Hey Mom,” Y/N said as she set her keys down. “Anything good?”

She looked up, her expression morphing from startled to happy. “Other than the college brochures? Nothing, except...hm, what’s this?”

Her well manicured hand pulled at a crimson envelope, with sloping writing that seemed to shimmer in the light.

To the Y/L/N Family, it read. The loopiness of the writing looked like it wiggled at the ends, but that had to be a trick of the light. It was dim in the kitchen during afternoons, after all.

“It looks cool, open it u--”

“No!”

Draco’s voice had never sounded so loud as it did then as he lunged across the kitchen, snatching it out of her mother’s hand and clutching it to his chest. “Er, it’s for me. I recognize the handwriting.”

“Cool, see you later,” said Y/N. She was up the stairs and slamming her door before either of her housemates could say another word. After the horrible embarrassment that was technically Draco’s rejection, she needed to be alone.

Even burying her face into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut didn’t keep the scenes from their car ride at bay. She had been so stupid, so stupid. Why did she even think he wanted that? He was her brother, after all. Oh god, does he think we’re all from Alabama or something?

She wallowed for a few more mournful minutes before deciding that she had to pick herself up and handle it like an adult. After all, she was going to be 18 in just a few months. There was no excuse for her to act like a child anymore. And, plus, it wasn’t like she couldn’t just play this off as a pity invite. Yes,that’s what she’d frame this as if he ever asked her about it again. She felt bad for him was all it was.

Once satisfied with her internal dialogue, she rolled out of bed and made for the foyer where her bag was still on the table. She’d first walk on Legos barefoot before she had to let a stupid boy--especially one that didn’t know how to turn on their shower and had to ask for her help every time--come between her and her 4.0. Never.

Her thoughts were cut short, however, when she heard a new sound from his side of the hallway. She froze, listening closely.

Draco was crying.

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