#im at work and every five minutes i think of him and what they chose to do with his character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

highvern · 7 months ago

Text

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #🫡 highvern

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yawujin · 1 month ago

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mroski i saw u asking for 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 requests and im here to deliver bc kinktober been dry as hell like GHGGRHRG THE DROUGHT… stupid characters from hetalia (that i will be naming at the end) coming home with a random viagra-like pill they grabbed off the shadiest place they could and begging to try it, thinking its probably fake or just low quality. but then s/o reluctantly agrees and theyre(only the character in my scenario, but feel free to tweak it to your liking) hit with immense horny, like not even the good kind theyre borderline about to pass out from the fever lol. how does that go? please make it not only 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 but also funny because i need the positivity in my life… anyways my proposed characters are north italy, denmark, prussia and america. feel free to do whichever ones you like!

it's been drier than a desert fr fr...luckily, october is the time of year i get the most inspired and creative. i chose prussia bc i feel like this scenario would fit him the best. enjoy 🪄

request˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ a mysterious pill (hetalia x reader)

type | nsfw , aphrodisiacs , smut , prussia thinks he's a sigma male 🐺 , long , drug usage (i guess) , they/them pronouns used

"no gil, don't take that." they grumbled, grabbing the pill from his hand. gilbert had brought home a singular pill he found inside one of those orange containers one would get at the pharmacy. but they could tell, this was not something any doctor would prescribe. they examined the neon pink gel pill, watching the kitchen lighting above make the bright color reflect onto the palm of their hand. what even is this? they pondered to themself.

"now schatz...why shouldn't i?" he cocked his head to the side. "i bought this specifically for you and i to have a much better time together."

they could hear the smile in his voice. then, it clicked and they realized exactly what he was talking about.

"i didn't think you were serious about getting something...something like this!" they stuttered out. gilbert smirked. "try it out."

they looked at him in disbelief. he lowered his head and shrugged. "the worst that can happen is that it turns out to be a fake." they stood there listening to his words in silence. he got closer to them, putting a hand up on their shoulder. "maybe it's a placebo." he sounded like he hoped it would be.

gilbert had poured them a glass of water as soon as they agreed to take it. "come now, drink up." he grinned.

"i still can't believe you bought a knock-off viagra." they said disappointedly. then, they took the pill in their mouth, sipping some water and swallowing hard. it tasted awful going down, but if this were to work the effects of the drug were about to wipe that taste from their mind completely.

the pair waited five minutes, then those five turned into ten. it seemed a bit longer to them since gil was asking if they felt anything every three minutes. they walked over to the sink and put their glass down inside. "no gil, for the last time i—" they held onto the kitchen counter with might as a hot, electric shock rushed to their core. "AH!" they felt as though they were about to collapse. gilbert rushed to their side, his hands at their back and waist.

"gil...i'm going to fall." they were feeling dizzy, like they were losing control of their own legs. gravity felt heavy and all of their weight was being pulled down. "i've got you." he reassured them as he tried to get them to stand again. "lean onto the counter."

they tried to stand without wobbling. with every slight brush of gilbert's hands on their waist, they felt the same heat rise in their abdomen. that dizzy feeling wasn't letting up, either.

"no, no. i can't. just take me to bed." they pleaded. they didn't need to tell gil twice. he was quick to lift their arm over his shoulder and carefully walk them over to their bed.

he laid them down carefully, sat at the edge of the bed, and raised a hand to their forehead. "mein gott, you are on fire." he shook his head. "i think," he was looking to leave and find his cell phone. "i should call the hospital."

"no!" they exclaimed. he looked worried. "just stay with me, okay?" they asked sweetly. they gestured for him to come nearer, and placed their hands on his face gently. "can i get a kiss?"

hesitant at first, gilbert brought his face up to theirs and smoothed his lips over their own. boldly, they ran their fingers through his hair and tugged at a few strands, earning a low moan from him. he pulled away almost instantly.

"huh...is it working?" his eyes were wide.

"isn't it obvious? i need you right now!!" they were upset gil pulled away so abruptly. "please do something..."

gilbert looked at them and chuckled. "should i tear off all your clothes like an animal and howl while i fuck you?" he imitated a howl, immediately shutting up when they grabbed him by his shirt.

"what do you think you are? a werewolf?" they smashed their lips up against his and smiled when they heard him moan in a surprised delight. "hurry up, do ANYTHING." they pleaded. it was getting too much for them to bare.

gilbert took off and threw all of his clothes to the floor in a hurry. he noticed the bright red color that dusted his partner's cheeks. that flushed looked on their face got him bricked faster than he would like to admit. "are you so horny that you can't even move?" he mocks them, thoroughly enjoying the cute noises that follow right after. he helps them take everything off as well. "alright...turn around for me, please."

they feel him press himself against their ass. his hand is around them, sliding it up their stomach, and getting closer to their chest. their eyelids grow heavy and finally shut. the heat builds up in their head, the fever making them feel like they're about to pass out from all that pleasure. with every inch that gilbert slowly adds inside of them, the closer they feel to coming. they've barely begun, and yet it feels like they won't last much longer.

#hetalia #hetalia prussia #hws prussia #aph prussia #hetalia world stars #hetalia x oc #hetalia x reader #gilbert beilschmidt #hetalia fanfictions #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia imagines #hetalia fandom #i hope i did good i had fun writing this

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thelikesofus · 1 year ago

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7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 19 for the writers asks! 💗💗

Ahhhh Hi April xxx ✨💗

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

Okay so there are currently 10 WIPs in my google drive that ive actually started writing but I'm actively working on 3 (maybe 4) of them

theres also another like ten ideas that i haven't even touched yet

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

okay so the three maybe four that i'm actively working on are:

Orphan AU: this is my long fic where Buck and Eddie meet as kids at an orphanage but Buck gets adopted shortly after and then follows Eddie's life until theyre reunited as adults

Pirate AU: I am a sucker for Pirate AUs and I have struggled to find a Buddie one so i'm taking matters into my own hands. This is Captain!Eddie and Tutor!Buck kind of enemies to lovers too

Besties Babies Fic: This is a silly brain worm i got before the s6 finale. Buck and Kameron platonically raising their bio kid and Kameron trying play cupid for Buck and Eddie.

Love Languages Fic: This is an Eddie POV of Buck performing acts of service and Eddie slowly realising he's in love with his best friend

9. Do you write every day? If you wrote today, share a sentence of what you’ve written!

I would love to write every day unfortunately i am also in the final year of my bachelors degree and that takes up a lot of my time however just for you April i will write a sentence (or a few) and share it:

“Maddie,” He hisses as they scurry down the docks. “These men are pirates.”

“I know, Evan,” Maddie whispers back to him. “It’s fine, I promise.”

“It’s fine?!” Evan squawks. “What part of pirates do you not understand?”

Maddie turns back to look at him and her eyes are bright with excitement even behind the perfectly composed look of calm on her face. “They’re nice pirates.”

“NICE PIRATES?!”

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

There are two that come to mind actually the first is y(our) son which is only like 600 words and i wasn't all that happy with it when i posted it (i almost didnt post it tbh) but when it got a crazy positive response i was actually blown away.

The second is my tsunami era fic im so glad i get to hold you because its not the fic i had been working on at the time but the idea wouldnt go away so i wrote it in one sitting and then just posted it without much thought and again got such a positive response which was a nice surprise (particularly because the tsunami was so long ago i didnt think people would be that interested)

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

Not typically but i have made a playlist for the Orphan AU with all of the songs that i chose for the chapter titles which i will share when i post the fic <3

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

From Besties Babies Fic:

"Take her, please!" Before his sleepy brain even registers that it's Kameron on his doorstep he has an armful of squirming, squealing baby.

"Ah, hi Honey." He says to the baby and receives a gummy grin and a vice grip on his nose in return. "Kam, what are you doing here?"

"I just need five minutes to myself. Buckley, please just watch her while I use your shower."

Send me writer asks <3

#ask meegs #writer asks #orphan au #love languages fic #fic: the sea speaks #buddie pirate au #besties babies fic #meegs writes stuff #heartbeatdiaz #lovely April 💗#lovely mutuals #fic: cupid works hard #fic: speaking your love language

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star-mum · 1 year ago

Text

FIRST OF ALL

SECOND (Reader aka me @ Gar at any given moment)

OKAY 13,188 words on PART ONE ALONE !!!! I’m not even going to pretend I might be able to fit this all in the tags

“it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind” the eyes are the window to the soul

““Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked” KSKSKSK I’D LIKE TO POINT OUT I HAVE THE SCREAM SUPER ZOOMED IN, SO I DIDN'T ACTUALLY SEE THE NEXT LINE

“dreams seemed to depict the future in some way” hELLO

“But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would” understandable, have a great day

“He looked so utterly soft and cuddly” when I tell my heart hurts at that visual, i wANT HIM

*build me up buttercup has just started playing and I’m very a hard time here, SUCH A SOFT HEARTBREAK SONG*

“five-thirty in the morning” jesus christ

“Of course. He wanted a snack” 👀 i’ll refrain

“something strange happened” oh here we go 😈

“as you were shocked back to reality” i know from the outside it probably just looks like she drifted off a bit BUT in my mind palace is a whole That's So Raven moment SKSKSK

“he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless” AYOOOOO

“ when Dick paired you off with Jason” Reader-Jason interactions in Gar x Reader fics are so fun to me, it's like, one step removed from my usual self inserts

“And you had been strategically avoiding Gar” unfortunately for us, Im TERRIBLE at strategizing

“you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going” a canon event in every universe

“you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar” Expecting ? No. Hoping, however? Always.

“You had never thought you could be so… dreamy” “The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest”

“until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door” OF COURSE HE WOULD

“God, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock” I'm just gonna… keep this one close to my heart

“Dick coming to wake you up for training – ‘Morning jog in twenty minutes’” I would have half a mind not to injure him “you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes” that checks out

“He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head” and he probably does, BUT thats for part two 🥴 IM KIDDING KSKSK (unless 👀)

“Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times” YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHH !!!!!!

“Trivial Pursuit” when I tell you I’d get violently competitive, you wouldn't UNDERSTAND !!! I MUST WIN AT TRIVIA !! I MUST HAVE THE BIGGEST BRAIN OF THEM ALL

“one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together” yeah I know what kinda "friendly activity" yall got up

“‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed” quickest way to “trick” Jason into doing anything, ever

““How many bones are in the human body?” honest initial guess = 206 → if im wrong I’ll go hide in shame forever NO WAI TIT S 236 (im leaving my rushed typos in, sue me)

“You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation” im sorry, can we put a pin on this for a sec, i need to know if im right SKSKSK

“splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation” his dick is big, I know it is, god my heart hUrts

“He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall” and god bless his heart

“I thought it was 207? Oh wait, that’s the joke answer” I hate that this is the man that I chose to love, hOWEVER i hate even more that i was right and then second guessed myself

“Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it” YEAH

“When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table” well… can't blame him KSKSKSKS “Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite” UNCALLED FOR ! but also correct ilovehim

“It’s good for team morale” is fucking your teammates ALSO GOOD FOR TEAM MORALE? Cause I think that has a better chance of happening

“It’s probably none of my business” you're right ! it is none of your business : D

“you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever” Dick isnt my enemy here, I’ll be nicer to him… until he offends me on a personal level again

“He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it” lying on the floor in a puddle of my own tears

““If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain” THIS DOESN'T HELP

“He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe” *takes in a deep breath* “I’m not gonna leave. I won’t leave you. Ever” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA… okay, yeah.

“when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar” i see what ur doing, Grayson

“when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to” Suuunnieeee :3

“You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back” I have never in my life doubted you but gOD THIS IS JUST !!!!!!!!!!

“You let out a sharp moan of your own” THE GIFT KEEPS ON GIVING

“It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him” hot, sexy and hot (the same cadence as "gay, homesexual, gay")

“Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way” AAAAAAAAA NOOOOO THE MISCOMMUNICATION TROPE HURTS, IT BUUUURNNNSSS

*angel eyes by abba started playing… i need you to understand. I'm listening to my liked songs on spotify and there's uuhh… 1023 songs in there… HOW THE FUCK DID IT KNOW ????*

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger

Summary:

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.

Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 13,100

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic (including improved reposts of my older fics) then make sure you go over and follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything.

A/N: The first repost on this new blog! I am so excited about it. If you have any comments or questions about the fic, please let me know, and if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy this new version, and if you're reading it for the first time, I hope that it's a really excellent experience for you.

...

Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is.

It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts.

To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed.

To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation.

In reality, it was vastly different for you.

There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary.

From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind.

“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers.

Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people.

To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not.

Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly.

The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep.

The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind.

Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own.

Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally.

Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible.

Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.

But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in.

More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed.

Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan.

It had been a Saturday morning like any other.

Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle.

Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken.

But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened.

Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere.

So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan.

That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth.

That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know.

At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days.

Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping.

Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep.

You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way.

You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang.

Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question.

But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.

It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning.

Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day.

You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar.

He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.

When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early.

“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice.

Of course. He wanted a snack.

He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room.

Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that.

You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before.

You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination.

It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you.

He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into-

A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind.

You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen.

“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you.

It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight.

You needed time to think.

You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again.

…

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before.

You had thought about it a lot, actually.

But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner.

It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display.

You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.

Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on.

But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken.

If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine.

And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come.

Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there.

But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose.

You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them.

Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer.

…

You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring.

Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter.

You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time.

If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon.

You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not.

As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming.

Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief.

“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you.

It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time.

At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count.

In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him.

In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand.

He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson.

As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him.

“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.”

You giggled, smiling to yourself.

…

It had been a few days since then.

And you had been strategically avoiding Gar.

At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions.

You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs.

You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend.

So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you.

Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate.

You had been doing just fine until another accident happened.

Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account.

You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf.

On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower.

What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor.

“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was.

You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again.

Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive.

“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you.

Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon.

You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look.

When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his.

And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze.

You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining.

You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone.

It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation.

The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so.

You had never thought you could be so… dreamy.

You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though.

As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-

You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back.

The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen.

You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room.

“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly.

Right. Your shower.

You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior.

You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident.

You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault.

Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked.

The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest.

In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with.

The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you.

…

Gar’s hands were all over you.

It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.”

His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly.

You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training.

“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow.

There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed.

As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes.

…

Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there.

More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him.

You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this.

But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did.

Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you.

It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen.

Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken.

Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal.

…

“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.”

She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained.

You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment.

Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one.

You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed.

But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame.

The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room.

This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind.

But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead.

All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems.

Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone.

“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.”

You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place.

You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit.

“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar.

Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed.

“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.”

‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed.

Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you.

“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass.

Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react.

“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.”

‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him.

“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast.

Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you, and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel.

“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel.

‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more.

And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.

“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him.

‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified.

“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness.

‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.

Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.

“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you.

‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?”

‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained.

“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him.

“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk.

“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her.

“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet.

Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food.

Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged.

The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal.

Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it.

“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item.

…

You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would.

Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders.

Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game.

Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around.

“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?”

When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation.

It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy.

In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive.

He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock.

The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls.

You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on.

“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.”

“Y/N?”

This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream.

“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock.

Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace.

You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.”

Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia.

You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue.

‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question.

“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile.

“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.”

“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.”

“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.”

Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you.

‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled.

You nodded.

“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh.

It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you.

…

Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster.

Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of.

When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally.

You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over.

It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him.

You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back.

Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms.

“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him.

You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand.

You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people.

“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.”

You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally.

You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again.

“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.”

You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught.

It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle.

In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him.

“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.”

Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all.

“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.”

His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart.

Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down.

‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant.

He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed.

When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to.

You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach.

You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth.

And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you.

As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did.

Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out.

‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him.

Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin.

“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake.

“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.

You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape.

“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.”

Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again.

You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time.

“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain.

It was intensely difficult for you to listen to.

It sliced through you like a knife.

Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong.

Tears pricked your eyes.

You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb.

He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness.

‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’

“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?”

He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind.

But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining.

This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective.

It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though.

You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems.

It was a specific night that you remembered well.

You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted.

You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit.

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on.

When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you.

‘You can leave.’ You signed to him.

At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt.

A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place.

“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”

At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer.

You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself.

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry.

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’

You ran from the room before he could confront you any further.

Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met?

Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead.

This crush was going to ruin you.

…

Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever.

The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress.

You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked.

You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up.

As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life.

Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name.

You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes.

He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover.

When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded.

Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game.

Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this.

But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you.

He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you.

This crush was going to ruin you.

Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?”

Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind.

‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’

You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant.

But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around.

You really tried harder.

You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent.

Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury.

But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back.

Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing.

His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake.

In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will.

Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective.

No - you were in this.

Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it.

In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.

But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you.

The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you.

All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness.

You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy.

When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level.

And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:

‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’

And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch.

Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-”

Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours).

‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him.

You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you.

Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again.

Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger.

The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him.

Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?”

You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach.

After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him.

“I hate this.”

He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain.

“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…”

He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it.

“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!”

As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology.

But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer.

“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated.

He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out.

You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall.

At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest.

Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.

...

COMING SOON: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don't accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you've read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

#star squared #im sorry this took so long KSKSKS #my boyfriend Gar <3

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karolinesvrsion · 2 years ago

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just this once, okay? | bruce yamada x fem!reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

@bettyssneaker @ellemfaoh @finneysbaseball @urfavkorean @retirement-home

okay so even though it's the baseball game i know nothing about baseball so there's none in this but enjoy the cuteness. also i don't hate the house on mango street, i just chose a book from the 80s 😭

a/n: for the sake of the story, everyone is the same age (16-17) and in junior year of high school, except gwen, who is a freshman. and the grabber doesn't exist because i said so.

when a crushing and helpless bruce yamada seeks aid from an unaware and breezy y/n, he suggests they fake date in order to make his crush jealous. what could go wrong? they were friendly, and y/n was beautiful. bruce’s plan is fool proof. at least that’s what he thinks.

❦

it was another boring wednesday morning with ms. rhodes, your calculus teacher. you didn't have this class at the same time as bruce, but he followed the 'always do your calculus homework' rule.

"hey, dipshit," vance whispered, throwing a gum wrapper at your head. "what's the answer to number five?"

"i don't know." you answered, throwing the crumpled wrapper back at him. "why would i know?"

"your grades have been getting better in this class, dumb fuck." he grumbled. "oh, i see." he added after seeing the dumbfounded look on your face. "it isn't you, it's your little fake boyfriend."

"shut up, vance!" you hissed, attracting the attention of the two students in front of you. you gave them an awkward smile, turning back to vance. "don't say it out loud, idiot."

"are you ashamed of your fake boyfriend?" he teased, an over dramatic gasp leaving his mouth. "wow, see, if i was fake dating bruce yamada, i'd go insane. especially if it was crazy obvious he's in love with me." he crossed his arms over his chest, a cocky grin on his face.

"do you like dudes?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow so it looked like you were genuinely asking.

"what? i- no, we've talked about this!" vance grumbled. "i'm talking about you!"

"what are you talking about?" you questioned. the look on your face must've been priceless, because vance started laughing. audibly laughing. and laughing was an understatement. he was cackling.

"mr. hopper, what is so funny?" your teacher asked. ms. rhodes was young, only about twenty-six, but working with high schoolers every day probably took off ten years from her lifespan.

"no, not funny, just stupid, i'm sorry!" vance breathed, his face bright red. the class was staring at the two of you, so your face was probably bright red too.

"okay, let's get back to the lesson." ms. rhodes sighed, shaking her head.

"you're an idiot, y/n/n." vance whispered after she turned her back. he snickered quietly to himself. your face truly was priceless.

bruce couldn't focus. not even on us history, and that was his best subject. when he tried focusing on something, his mind would go back to you. all morning, he looked forward to seventh period— physics, his worst class— because it was the only class he shared with you.

during lunch, bruce could barely touch his food. he picked at it with his fork for five minutes before setting it back down, and glancing around the lunch patio.

"dude, are you okay?" lucas' semi-raspy voice snapped bruce out of his thoughts. "you're staring into space."

"yeah, yeah, uh, no im not okay," bruce stuttered, running a hand over his face. "if i tell you something, you have to swear on everything that you won't tell anyone— and that includes violet."

"okay," lucas furrowed his eyebrows. bruce wasn't one to get this riled up over a dumb secret. "what's going on, you're acting weird."

"y/n and i aren't really dating," he admitted. "we made a fake-dating plan to make clara jealous."

lucas blinked. "that's not true."

"it is true, dipshit," bruce snapped. "we aren't actually dating, it's fake."

"no, you two are definitely dating— i— what? i saw the way you looked at her that day at the carnival, man." lucas tried.

"yeah, i know! that's the problem, luke." bruce replied rather snarkily. "i can't stop thinking about her, man! it's so weird, i mean, she's like— taking up my mind! i think i like her."

"bruce, don't be an idiot." lucas chided. "of course you like her. you've been hanging out with her like every single day, studying or whatever. you two hang out after practices and games, you're bound to fall in love."

"what, i'm not in love with her!" bruce exclaimed. "i just really like hanging out with her, and listening to her rant about her hatred for olives, and studying with her, and watching her make fun of her brother, and teaching her sister to play baseball—"

"wait— you're teaching her little sister how to play baseball?" lucas questioned.

"yeah, and it's so fun sharing custody of todd." bruce smiled, placing his chin in his hand.

"todd?" lucas raised an eyebrow.

"our teddy bear. the one we won at the carnival, and— oh, crap." bruce's eyes widened, making lucas' head turn quickly. you were walking towards them, gwen and donna by your side.

"okay, here's the plan." lucas turned to him. "everything you just said to me? you're gonna say that to y/n."

"what, no!" bruce defended, his eyes as wide as saucers. "i can't just say all of this to her, she'll get creeped out!"

lucas rolled his eyes. "just tell her!"

"no!" bruce finalized, earning a glare from lucas. "look, this was supposed to be a fake-dating thing to make clara jealous, but now, i don't like her, i like y/n. and if i tell y/n, she'll avoid me like the plague."

"but, bruce—"

"i'm not telling her. not yet."

you approached the two, a smile gracefully finding its way onto your face. "hey lucas, good to see you."

"y/n, hey. bruce was just talking about you!" lucas grinned, patting bruce on the shoulder. "have you seen violet, by any chance?"

"oh, no. i think she stayed behind to talk to mrs. jameson after the bell rang." you said.

"okay, cool. i am gonna let you two talk, then." he gave bruce a smirk and stood up. "i'll see you at practice."

gwen raised an eyebrow, nudging your shoulder. "what was that about?" she muttered.

"no idea." you shrugged, taking a seat next to bruce. donna and gwen sat on the opposite side, chatting quietly with one another.

you noticed bruce looked a little tense, so you placed your hand on his forearm. "you okay?"

he smiled at you, placing his hand on yours. "yeah, yeah, i'm good, just nervous."

"for practice?" you scrunched your nose in confusion. "but it's just practice, bruce, and you're the best on the team. what are you nervous about?"

"not for practice, for the actual game." he clarified. "we're playing against finney's team this saturday, and they're good."

"so, you're nervous to play against finney?" you asked. to you, it seemed odd, since bruce was always confident before a game. "if you lose, you lose. and if you win, then i get to shove it in finney's face!"

"yeah, i guess that's true." bruce chuckled. there was something about his stupidly perfect smile that made your stomach flip, but you would never admit that out loud. "i'll be fine, right? yeah, i'll be fine."

"are you telling me or asking me?" you said. bruce shoved you away lightly. "okay, okay! after your game we can go to that diner you like and i'll get you whatever you want."

"even if i lose?" he asked. "you'll still celebrate with me if i lose, right?"

"yeah, of course." you affirmed, giving him a comforting smile. the bell rang, indicating that the next class would start shortly. the two of you stood up, and bruce linked his hand in yours.

"you have english right now, right?" bruce asked. he already knew the answer, of course, but he didn't want to be weird.

"yep, we started a new book yesterday, y'know?" you started rambling about the novel your class was reading, and why you hated it more than anything. bruce listened to every word you said, nodding and occasionally saying a word or two as feedback.

as you approached the english class, you slipped your hand out of bruce's quietly. "okay, so i will see you later, at your practice thing, okay? you'll be fine, just take a deep breath or something."

"okay, i'll take a deep breath or something." bruce teased, leaning down slightly to place a kiss on your forehead. you smiled, waving goodbye while walking into class.

he watched you take a seat next to vance with a dazed smile on his face. lucas popped up out of nowhere and slapped bruce's shoulder, saying, "you are so in love with her."

"crap. i might be so in love with y/n." bruce muttered under his breath. "crap, oh crap."

bruce's baseball practice always started around six-thirty. you'd been to previous practice sessions, and they were all equally as boring. today, you had the silence of the lambs in your backpack to finish reading while waiting.

the team was already warming up by the time you sat down on the cold bleachers. you spotted bruce— who was already looking at you— and waved. he exchanged a few words with his teammates and jogged over to you. "hey, you made it!"

"of course i did," you said. "which means i get a point, just so you're aware." you added smugly.

"i'm aware, y/n/n," bruce chuckled. "hey, i thought the english classes were reading the house on mango street? what's with the silence of the lambs?"

"oh, i'm reading this for my own enjoyment." you explained. thinking it was a joke, bruce laughed. "what?"

"oh, you're serious?" he whispered, looking beyond surprised. "have you read it before?"

"what? no, i haven't read it before, that's why i'm reading it now." you began. "it's pretty cool, to be honest."

"that's so gross, y/n." bruce grimaced.

the team was calling bruce back to the field, very loudly in your opinion. "your team is waiting for you, bruce."

he winked at you and jogged back to the field, where lucas— and the majority of the team— had begun teasing him.

you watched them practice for about ten minutes, but it was rather boring, so you took out the silence of the lambs and began reading.

"thank you, dr. danielson, for your humorous remarks. they're very helpful to me— i'll show you how in a minute. you like the truth— try this. he kidnaps young women and rips their skins off. he puts on these skins and capers around them—"

the pages were darkened by someone's shadow behind you. bruce's shadow, of course. "jeez, y/n, that's what you read in your free time?"

"oh, crap, you guys finished already?" you gave him an apologetic look.

"yeah, it's like eight-thirty, y/n/n." bruce feigned annoyance. "come on, i'll walk you home."

"sorry i didn't watch you practice," you said, grabbing your water bottle. "it got boring after the first ten minutes."

bruce laughed at this. "so, instead you started reading a gross book?"

"it is a psychological horror book, bruce." you clarified.

"that's even worse." he blurted, swinging his arm around your shoulder.

that saturday, you and gwen walked to the baseball field together. "so who are you gonna be cheering on? bruce or finney?"

"i will be cheering for them both, gwen." you huffed. "i'll say 'congrats on the win' to one, and 'congrats on the loss' to the other one."

"you're so weird, y/n/n." she giggled. the two of you took a seat on the bleachers— which were warm due to the morning sun.

you two were later joined by donna, robin, vance, billy, griffin, and some other friends. billy and griffin loved going to the baseball games, donna didn't mind them, but vance and robin thought they were the most boring things ever.

"when can we leave?" robin whined, greatly resembling a pouting toddler. griffin shushed him multiple times before giving up and letting him whine all he wanted. "can we get snacks?"

"fine, go get snacks, but don't take too long!" donna called as robin and vance went running to the snack stands. "i feel like a mother."

robin and vance returned with an overload of snacks about five minutes later. they were much more bearable after having some food.

you felt like someone was staring at you, and at first, you thought it might've been robin. (he always stares at people for a long time to get them to give him money.) but, when you looked at robin, he was watching the game intently.

you looked behind you and saw as clara— who was seated two rows behind you— turned away quickly. 'weird.' you thought, turning back to the game.

the game went well. you and gwen both cheered for finney and bruce everytime they were on the field, so your throats were a little sore.

"hey, finn, congrats on the loss." you told finney as he joined the group.

"thanks, y/n/n," he smiled. "hey, we're going to hang out, you wanna come with us, or do you have plans with loverboy over there?" finney joked, motioning over to where bruce was waiting.

"you're funny," you gave him a sarcastic smile. "but yeah, i told him i'd get him something from the diner if he won, so, yeah i guess i have plans."

"alright, we'll see you later then!"

you walked over to bruce, and when you got closer, you could see that he was nervous. "hey, you okay? you're like, shaking."

"y/n/n, listen, um, my parents are here." he said, making your eyes go wide. "and they want to take us to the diner."

"your— your parents? you want me to go meet your parents?" you stuttered, feeling your stomach flip.

"yeah. look, i know it's weird, right? it's weird, but it'll be fine! i mean, you already know amy, and my parents will love you!" bruce reassured you, placing his hands on either side of your face. he held your hand as you two began walking.

"y'know bruce, this is starting to feel like a real relationship, if you ask me." you teased.

"what? wh— why would you say that?" bruce stumbled across his words, praying to the lord that lucas didn't say anything to you.

"i just mean, like, i'm meeting your parents, you already met my family, it feels like an actual relationship." you joked, hoping he would catch on.

"oh, you're joking! okay, you're joking." he sighed, looking relieved. this confused you, but you left it alone.

mr. and mrs. yamada were smiling as the two of you approached their car. amy was already in the backseat, waiting patiently for you all.

"hello, you must be y/n!" bruce's mom greeted kindly, shaking your hand.

"i am," you offered. "yes, im y/n, that's— that's me."

"she's nervous." bruce said, placing a hand on your shoulder. "i'm gonna go get my stuff, but um, you three should talk!"

mr. yamada introduced himself, also shaking your hand. "so, bruce tells us you like to read. is that true?"

"yes, it is!" your eyes brightened at this. "i'm actually reading the silence of the lambs right now."

"wow, an interesting choice. what made you want to read that book?" he continued. the two of you talked about the aforementioned book for a couple more minutes, and probably would have talked about it for longer if it wasn't for mrs. yamada cutting in.

"let's wait for bruce in the car." she stated. "it's getting a bit chillier."

the three of you were seated in the car waiting for bruce when amy blurted, "bruce really likes you, y'know?"

"amy!"

"what? it's true!" she defended. "you're all he talks about, all day every day. he's all 'y/n said this, and y/n said that.' it's almost annoying!"

"amy yamada!"

"i'm just saying!" amy grumbled. "and you should see the way he looks at you! he's super in love with you."

"amy!"

"okay, i'm done!" she giggled, obviously not caring that if he knew what she had just said, bruce would probably strangle her later.

"i'm so sorry about her, she can be a lot." mr. yamada apologized.

"i'm right here!" amy scoffed.

"it's okay," you laughed. "i know how younger siblings are."

"oh, that's right, you have a younger sister! allison, i believe her name is?" mrs. yamada asked politely.

"right, allison, but she prefers being called allie." you liked talking to bruce's parents. mr. yamada understood and shared the love you had for reading, and mrs. yamada loved the way you talked about your family, the people you held dearest to your heart.

finally, bruce opened the car door, and plopped himself in the seat to your right. "okay, i'm here, let's go!"

"bruce, you smell like shit." amy complained, pinching her nose.

"amy!"

"don't sit so close to y/n, you'll infect her with your disgusting smell." she emphasized, sticking her tongue out at him.

"amy!"

"i'm just joking, jeez."

bruce nudged your shoulder. "sorry about her, she's annoying."

"nope, she's pretty funny, actually." you laughed. "she's right though, you stink." bruce gave you a look of betrayal. "i'm just saying!"

that night, after you were dropped you off back home, bruce's parents went on and on about how "she's perfect, son!" and "she's so kind!" even amy talked about how much she adored you. "do you think she'd go shopping with gwen and i?" she said, earning a groan from bruce.

he couldn't stop thinking about you. good lord, he had fallen. how could this happen? the plan was fool proof, and yet he fell.

bruce didn't know what else to do, so, like an idiot, he decided to push aside his feelings. maybe clara would change her mind and take an interest in him.

'lord help me.' bruce thought to himself, laying in his bed wide awake, thinking of you. your smile, your laugh, your non-stop book talk.

he thought of calling you, but it was twelve in the morning and you'd probably be asleep. 'it'll be fine.' he kept telling himself. but would it? would it be fine?

#bruce yamada #bruce yamada x reader #finney blake #gwen blake #pinball vance #robin arellano #the black phone #tristan pravong #vance hopper #billy showalter #donna the black phone #griffin stagg #just this once okay?#clara reid

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years ago

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europe - request

pairing: sebastian stan x singer!reader (seb!pov)

summary: singer!reader writes another song, this one is about seb

warnings: suggestive content (*wink wonk*), language, the works ya know

a/n: this took so long bc im not lyrically inclined and there isn’t even that many lyrics in here. i can’t even guys this was a nice break though. i liked the concept, i hope i lived up to your dreams. :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are both open loves!

check out my other writing on my full m.list

Sebastian was doing a press interview for his new movie. It was his first on television interview. First time being back in the studio for The Late Late Show with James Corden. First time since you and him had gotten together. He was eager to see what James had in store for him.

He was wearing a bright yellow shirt paired with a red leather jacket. His legs were clad with a different pair that he wanted to wear originally because you couldn’t get quite enough of his thighs. Had he worn the other pair, there would’ve been a prominent wet spot on one leg where you rode him to your own satisfaction. The memory made him bite his lip and adjust his pants to try to quell his oncoming boner.

“Good luck out there tonight, lovey. You’re gonna crush it.” Your voicemail warmed Sebastian’s heart. He missed you a lot, but you were currently on your own press junket. Your new album finally came out and your manager had been running you ragged. Sebastian was so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Hi, Mr. Stan. You’re needed on deck in five minutes.” He nodded at the assistant producer who stuck her head in his dressing room. Sebastian ran his hands through his hair one more time before deciding enough was enough.

“Well, this is as good as it's gonna get.” He murmured to himself as he walked out of the dressing room. He rolled his shoulders, snuggling into the leather jacket encasing his back. Sebastian took a swig of a water bottle from the table backstage. He still got nervous when doing interviews, always worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing.

“And now I would like to introduce our next guest. You’ve seen him as Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe for the last ten years. He’s played the borderline psychotic Jeff Gillooly in I, Tonya, and the corrupt Sheriff Bodecker from The Devil All The Time. It is my pleasure to introduce the one, the only, Sebastian Stan!”

James stood, clapping as Sebastian made his way to the main set area. He raised his right hand, his left remaining on his stomach. As he approached James, Sebastian switched hands, his left coming up as an offer for James to shake. Afterwards, James held his hand out to the chair beside his desk, waiting for Sebastian to sit down.

“Hi, Sebastian! It’s so good to have you back.” James’ accent broke Sebastian’s name up into three distinct syllables, bringing a smile to Seb’s face.

“It’s good to be back, man.” He grinned big, waiting for James to ask the first question. Once they got into it, the interview went smoothly. Sebastian was able to avoid giving out spoilers for his new project, leaving just enough to the imagination. James was in a fit of laughter after Sebastian had told a crazy story from being on set. James wiped tears away from his lower lashline, calming down just enough to catch his breath.

“Okay, so I want to move onto something else.” Sebastian sobered up quickly, unsure of where James was taking the conversation. “We want all the juicy details about your relationship with Y/N.” Sebastian’s brow raised as he pulled a face at James’ question. He laughed to himself for a minute before answering.

“Ya know, we really have you to thank for that.” Sebastian pointed at James, before bringing that same finger to rub his eye.

“Really?” The man’s voice pitched up, brows hitting his hairline.

“Oh yeah. We were only introduced because of your show.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, remembering that night with you. The two of you had gone out for drinks, talking for hours at the bar and then even longer in his hotel room. He remembered waking up with you wrapped up in his arms. You didn’t have sex that night, but you definitely did the second night.

And oh god, if that second night wasn’t just as amazing as the first. The face you made whenever you climaxed danced it’s way to the forefront of Sebastian’s mind. Not good, definitely not good. He had to readjust himself in his pants again, crossing his legs to cover up his rather large problem.

“Yeah, we started dating that same week. Kept it quiet though.” Sebastian held his palm out in the air, bouncing it up and down.

“Right, right. And do you want to tell everyone how you did end up revealing that you and Y/N were an item?” Sebastian looked down at his lap, smirking to himself. “Or should we just play the clip?”

A clip played for the studio audience. It was Y/N doing her makeup for the Vogue Beauty Secrets Youtube video. Sebastian waltzed in the background of the shot. It then cuts to Sebastian kissing Y/N on the cheek, brandishing the hickey’s that she had sucked onto his cheek the night before. Mhm, I remember that night too.

Sebastian had surprised Y/N by coming to see her. He wasn’t doing anything and he missed you, so why waste a perfectly good opportunity. He spent the night there completely ravishing you until you begged him to stop. That night he proudly wore your thighs as earmuffs, burying his face in you. He really needed to stop reminiscing during an interview.

“How adorable. Was that planned at all? Or did you just do that because you could?” Sebastian shook his head, his right hand scratching at the stubble decorating his jaw.

“Oh, no. It definitely wasn’t planned. I honestly don’t remember if I knew Y/N was filming that morning, so I’m just glad I put on pants before I left the bedroom.” James laughed at Sebastian’s comment.

“Okay, so I’ve gotta ask your opinion on something though.” Sebastian made a hum of acknowledgement, signalling for James to continue. James leaned back, pulling out a cardstock of your new album. “So, this is Y/N’s new album, it just came out about three or four weeks ago?” The crowd clapped for you, and Sebastian cheered along with them.

“What do ya want my opinion on? If it’s the album, then I gotta tell ya, I loved it. Every single song on there is absolutely amazing.” James nodded, a smirk forming on his lips making Sebastian think he made a mistake.

“So you’re aware of the song Europe?” Sebastian smirked, nodding his head because he knew where this was going. “Would you like to tell us what that’s about?” James laughed as Sebastian stammered, looking for the right words. “I mean, let’s just read some of the lyrics.” James looked at the cards in his hands as Sebastian drifted into his thoughts again.

You had brought him into the studio before finalizing Europe. He remembers watching you twist your hands at your waist and continuously cracking your knuckles. Sebastian was curious because you hadn’t ever been like that when showing him a song before. Every question he had about your anxiety revolving around the song was thrown away when he heard it.

Europe was an ode to Sebastian, all of Sebastian. He couldn’t help pulling you down onto his lap by your waist as he listened. You were the only two in the studio, so the two of you were free to do whatever you wanted. The funny thing about that night was that there was a new track recording.

“Oh shit, Seb.” The dam broke afterwards, peels of laughter leaving your lips without explanation. Your right hand raised to your mouth, attempting (and failing) to quiet your giggles.

“Babe, why the ‘oh shit’?” You held up a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet and listen. He strained his ears, waiting for his own ‘oh shit’ moment. Then, his own voice filtered into his ears, making him crease his brow in confusion. “What is that?”

“That’s the audio from when I first played you Europe.” Small giggles passed your lips again. “I was going to ask you if I could use, like, a sound byte from it for either the beginning or the end of the song.” Sebastian nodded, slightly amazed that you were so creative with your work. “But, I forgot to turn off the recording.” Sebastian’s eyes locked on your expression, waiting for him to connect the dots. He pulled a face and then,

“Oh shit.” His eyes widened, a huff of laughter escaping. “Wait, so it caught all of it?” Your lips rolled inwards, holding back laughs as you nodded your head. Sebastian raised a brow, his eyes flicking over your face. “Use it.” He had a few new hickeys after that night too, but not after decorating your body with a few of his own.

“Sebastian, I would like you to read a few lines from the song, please.” James handed Sebastian a card, a snort leaving Sebastian’s body involuntarily. He glanced at the cards, know the lyrics by heart already. He took a big breath, reading the lines that James chose. He threw him a look with his eyes, head tilting slightly toward the British man.

“Uh, okay, here we go.” Sebastian laughed to himself, blowing out a breath through clenched lips. He lifted the card again, “You know,” dropping his hand back to his lap while raising his other hand. “You know, she’s gonna make fun of me for this right?” James laughed, looking into the camera as if he was on The Office, then to the audience with a duh look on his face.

“Sebastian. We’re going to make fun of you.” The crowd didn’t hesitate to join in James’ amusement. Sebastian dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly. “Do you need a little encouragement?” The audience began cheering and clapping for Sebastian.

“Fine, alright, alright.” He shook his head before starting. “Long nights with hickeys earned like a badge of honor. Teasing kisses, twisted sheets, all signs of true seduction.” Sebastian looked up from his hands, expecting James to say something. All James offered, though, was a wave of his hand for Sebastian to continue. “I never have to worry because all my sins are forgiven when I’m with you.” James held his hand up, stopping Sebastian from continuing.

“Okay, let’s dissect that, Mr. Stan.” James propped his elbow on his interview desk, placing his head at an angle in his palm. “What is this song about?” Sebastian’s lips curled inward, stopping himself from laughter.

“James,” Sebastian leaned forward against the arm of the couch. “I thought this was a family show.” The British man quirked a brow, sweeping both hands in front of his body gesturing to the studio.

“This is the Late Late Show, Sebastian.” He turned back to the audience, addressing them and the cameras. “And that is all the time we have tonight! Thank you to Sebastian for coming on the show with me tonight! And thank all of you for tuning in tonight. We’ll see you next time.” The producer beside the camera signaled that the show ended and Sebastian turned back to James.

“It’s a good song.” Sebastian smiled wide afterwards, saying his goodbyes to the crew. He was back in the safety of his dressing room when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” He knew that it was you from the personally assigned ringtone you picked out when he wasn’t looking.

“The Internet is going to eat you alive.” Sebastian grinned as your peels of laughter trickled in through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh yeah, could you imagine if I told them that it wasn’t just random sounds at the end?” He could just imagine your smirk at his mention of your little addition to Europe.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” Sebastian paused, waiting for you to explain. “Although I think next time we should do a visual along with the audio. You pickin’ up what I’m putting down Stan?” Sebastian smirked to himself, thinking about being able to watch himself bring you to the brink over and over again, even when you’re not together. His pants got tighter at the idea.

“I think we might have to look into that, Y/L/N.”

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

Text

tingle (m)

summary; your super hot, super sexy tattoo artist manages to catch you off guard mid-session. at least his touch keeps the pain off your mind. pairing; tattoo artist!jungkook x tattooed!reader (f) genre/warnings; sexual tension, im tellin u being naked in front of your tattoo artist is something, pining, roleplay, soft dom!jk, descriptions of tattooing needles and the pain associated with it, rough language, man bun koo, really tender n slow lovin, mc has nice soft squishy boobies, heeavvyyy use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 1.3k a/n; we’ve unleashed tattoo artist!koo. it’s time. based on this hellpost that won’t leave my mind. first drabble for cami’s 7k share tyty

if you like this please feel free to give it a like n’share. enjoy✨✨

When he touches your bare breast, he’s injecting more than just ink in your skin.

By any means, this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve gotten tattoos before, in fact you remember how it took months for you to just let your mind kindly shut the fuck up so you could finally pick something out. You realized back then that there would never be a perfect placement or meaningful design that you had to cling to in order to get it done. Sometimes you have to do things simply because it feels right.

Yet lying down on the leather bed, petal-covered tits out and free to grab (and he does, for leverage) you feel like a tattoo newbie as he angles the needle into your skin.

Jungkook’s fast and quick, they say. It’s why you chose him for this particular piece, a blooming lily in three parts, from a bud to a bloom that starts from the bottom of your sternum to the tops of your breasts. You’ve heard stories about how the sternum is the most painful area to ink, but you’ve had this idea in mind for literal years and you still haven’t been able to shake it off. You remember how badly you wanted to kiss him after seeing how beautiful the design looked on his iPad, but for the sake of professionalism you simply nodded your head and said you loved it. You’re sure it’s highly inappropriate to lay one on your tattoo artist for just doing their job.

You wish you could see the ink as he’s working, but at the same time you’re excited to see the final project once it’s completely done. The only thing you can stare at is his face, dark brows furrowed in concentration as he scrutinizes every centimeter of his available space, making sure the shading is perfect as he goes in with his magnum. His eyes are bright and clear despite being in the shadows as he bends over your form, and the tips of his long hair wink against your vision as they pull out of his messy bun.

“This part’s gonna hurt the most,” Jungkook mumbles more to himself than you, seemingly in a trance as he lifts his needle from the finished bud. The half-bloom sits right at the middle, and when he presses his finger in the spot you try not to visibly wince. The bone’s right there and you’ve already shed a couple tears from the first half hour.

“I’ll try not to squirm,” you steel yourself, curling your toes as you prepare for the next round of needling.

“Oh don’t worry, if you squirm I’ll just pin you down.”

You could swear Jungkook’s squishes your breast a little firmer as he says that, but you chalk it up to him going back in and needing to move it around to touch up the inked bud. It’s not like he’ll fuck you on this table, the pain must be making you some kind of delusional if you’re fantasizing about your tattoo artist.

Five minutes later he nicks you in a particularly sensitive spot, and you wince. You can’t help but shift away, kicking your legs. He's by his words, and Jungkook’s hand unflinchingly clamps down on your breast, pushing you into the leather. From the corner of your eye, you see the way your skin bubbles between Jungkook’s inked fingers, the fat from your breast practically spilling over his knuckles.

Neither of you say anything as he switches needles, opting for a thinner one in order to start the illustration.

Once the sharp metal pricks your skin, you exhale. Your eyes open slightly to see a thin smile veiled onto Jungkook’s petal pink lips.

“Good girl,” it rolls off his tongue like honey and butter, and you have to clench your thighs and press every centimeter of your body to the table in order to not flip your shit.

It hurts, obviously. The needle goes straight to your heart, akin to the heat that pools between your thighs as you repeat his praise over and over in your head. You feel your bones vibrate in your chest as he goes in, but you want to do well for him so you force yourself to stay put.

You’re sure he means nothing by the nickname–or pet name in your dirty mind. Jungkook and all the other artists in Jamais Vu are known to be flirty when they want to. You’re sure he’s said that to dozens of other customers, considering his books are always full and his Instagram is filled with attractive men and women inked in the most intimate of areas.

“You say that to all your customers?” you finally pull the question from your throat, Jungkook taking a wet paper towel to rub away the excess ink. You fight your contented sighs as the cold fabric soothes your burn.

He hums, drifting away from your body to zoom in his perched iPad. “Only the cute ones,” he teases lightly, and you hold your breath for the rest of the appointment.

Jungkook’s slow and steady.

“Whoever did that tatt must be a freakin’ genius,” Jungkook says between pumps, tugging your right breast to the side to marvel at the finished work. The adhesive bandage gleams in the low light of your shared bedroom, due to the television displaying a muted version of My Hero Academia with all it’s vast explosions and super-powered rocket thrusters.

The only thrusting you’re concentrating on however, is the tender, thick drag of Jungkook’s cock slipping in and out of your wet folds.

“Y-yeah I guess,” you whimper when he swipes his thumb over the nipple, and his dips down to give your new flowers tiny, petal soft kisses, “the artist was trying to hit on me, though. I could’ve sworn he was trying to cop a feel during our session.”

“What a loser,” he chuckles at the running joke, his large hand dipping to the edge of your tummy. He links pinkies with yours along the way, and the both of you moan at the vision of where you couple between each other’s thighs. Thrust for thrust, his dick bulges and bloats your tummy in a way that has him gleaming with want. “Did you tell him you have a loving, far more talented boyfriend?”

“Ah, n-no,” it’s clearly the wrong answer, as Jungkook slips away from you and sits on his calves, thick golden thighs expanding tauntingly as he strokes his heady member right between your eyes.

“I thought you were a good girl,” he sighs, as if disappointed with your choices.

“I am a good girl,” you whine, “your good girl.”

“Then tell me what you’re really thinking.”

Your teasing, sexy boyfriend makes no moves to touch you, pretending to be wrapped up in his own pleasure. His mouth parts, jaw slackening as his eyes flutter shut when the motion starts to increase in pace.

“Mm, would’ve—would’ve let him fuck me on the tattoo bed if he asked,” you mentally beg for him to open your eyes and watch you, but you can’t wait. Your fingers travel across your stomach and down to sensitive bud, rubbing the slick pearl, “y-yes, really wanted him—no, I really wanted you to bend me over in front of everyone, Jungkook. P-please, I’m so good, l-let me cum–”

Your ministrations stop as soon as Jungkook’s hand covers your own. He never got particularly rough, but his grip is firm as he replaces your hand with his own. His eyes are blown wide, his hand sticky with your combined arousals.

“Stop moving,” he whispers in your ear, and you tamp the urge to cry when he pinches your clit, “or else I’m gonna have to pin you down again.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #btswritingcafe #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #cami's 7k share

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

Text

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person- usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke.

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there.

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy.

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold.

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off, “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now.

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after.

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852

@iguessimastannnow

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna imagines

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fallenrepublick · 3 years ago

Note

Hehe two requests in a row! Im thinking some soft thoughts tonight. S/o has to leave for an extended period of time, how do the nightbrothers deal with it? Cuddling shirts? Frequent holovids? Who gets snappish or insecure the longer s/o is away? Who tries to get them to come home sooner? How long do they cling to s/o once they come home? -Lurker Anon

Oh nooooo they're lonelyyyyy 😭

How does Maul deal with it? He... doesn't. He holds and clings to you up until the very second you have to leave his arms. And yes, you left your favourite shirt with him while you're gone, which he holds at night and wishes was at least still warm from your body heat. He calls every. single. day.

"You're... certain you can't be back any quicker?" he asks each time, and all but pouts once you say no yet again. He's also the one that becomes incredibly impatient, and slightly angrier, with each passing day. Even the very day you leave there's a noticeable difference. See, your presence soothes him during all hours of the day, and the knowledge that you aren't within walking distance gives him not only annoyance, but also anxiety. You aren't nearby, something could happen to you and he would have no way of preventing it. He's so transfixed on this possibility that anyone daring to bother him with things he couldn't care less about earns a harsh growl, no matter what the response is.

And when you come back? You will be held to for the next few days. You are not to leave his sight, simply because he's spent so long without you already. Work? What work? You've worked enough. You. His arms. Now.

Savage calls as much as he can. Maybe it isn't as often as Maul, but his calls last hours, allowing you to rant, lament, talk about what you miss. He just wants to hear your voice, honestly, and sometimes imagines you standing right in front of him as you speak. He's tried holding your clothes or hugging your pillow, but it just isn't the same. It doesn't feel like you, so it never makes him feel any better. If anything, it makes him feel worse.

He's the one that sits around with Maul while his brother is trying to work, talking about how much he misses you, how there's so long to go before you come back. And even though Maul says, "Did ?? I ask ??" about five minutes in, Savage couldn't care less and just keeps going.

You will be carried around everywhere when you return. There is no escaping it.

Oh, poor, poor Feral, so dejected when you leave him, trying to hide it behind his smile and wave when you depart. He can't help but feel alone when you're not around. There are usually constant moments where you're kissing him, or touching him, or talking to him from the opposite room. The house feels so empty without you. If he isn't calling, he's messaging, laying out each vaguely interesting thing he's done to pass the time. He never expects you to reply, he just... wants to feel like you're there, listening to him.

Yes, he holds your clothes, but he has trouble sleeping. He had slept alone for much of his life, and when you came along, treating him gently both day and night, he became reliant on your presence to lull him to a state comfortable enough to rest. He's the one that gets a little insecure, wondering if you like being away, if this trip reminds you of a certain type of freedom you could have lost when you chose to be with him. He worries if the way he responds to these trips is suffocating, if he should let you go away more without being so clingy. But he also doesn't want to make you feel as if he doesn't care about you or wants you gone.

So when you return, he runs and clings to you, relieved at your return. But he remembers what he had thought of before, and backs off a touch, apologizing for being clingy like that, promising that it's good if you enjoy taking these journeys, and should do so more often if you need them.

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p1nkwitch · 4 years ago

Text

Just wanted to drop this cause im tired.

Enjoy some lonelyeyes reincarnation au in a coffee shop.

Peter works.

Its not something that particularly bothers him much. His sister laughs and jokes around with him, while moving around serving her orders.

Their cafe is small and cozy but also sort of lonely, they have the oddest shifts imaginable, mostly working the graveyard shift.

Peter cooks the pastries while Judith and Aaron take the orders and serve the food. Clara has her music show on fridays and Lydia works at the art gallery but spends most of her time helping around as well.

The five of them are happy.

Simon was happy to help them pay for the Tundra Cafe. He hums under his breath while Judy sings along, there weren't that many people so they could do it without shame.

He is content.

…

At least he thinks he is. And honestly why shouldn't he? He has a good job, he has a good relationship with all his siblings, his adoptive dad loved them unconditionally.

By all means he should be nothing but happy.

And yet.

He feels… as if something was missing.

It was like an itch that he could not get over with.

It probably started back when he got a crush in one of his college professors that he realized-

That he really was missing something important.

Mister Wright was older than him sure, but he was handsome and Peter wasn't one to care much about age. However, the few times they spoke it was-

It was like there was something not right, it soured him somehow, but perhaps it was for the best, the man was married and he just had a stupid silly crush. It still did not take away the fact that he felt as if there was something off with him too.

He thinks his eyes should be a clearer grey than they were.

The next time he realized something was off was when he met Elias Bouchard.

Again it was embarrassing how quickly he seemed to get a crush on him, he just saw him a few times and his mind got stuck on his face. He was handsome and this time he was around his age. They had a few classes together so despite his anxiety he actually spoke with him.

And it was….

Dull.

He was dull as a wall. It did not lead up to anything else, beyond a few greetings later on, but it stayed on his mind.

Any other attempt at dating or going out turned out badly for him and its not as if he didn't try! It just was never… right.

Clara said that if he kept looking for the perfect person he would die alone and miserable. Lydia hits her and tells him that its ok, sometimes people don't click, he just needs to find someone who gets him.

He tries, but between his social anxiety, personality and perhaps his lack of interest in sex during the best of times, people are more or less put off with him. His sisters and brother are all offended on his behalf but Peter has resigned himself to not think too much about it.

Maybe he is like Lydia and he is better off alone.

That makes all of them look at him with tight faces and he blinks confusedly at them.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, just, you have us and dad Peter you're not alone” Judy holds his hand and Aaron nods.

“I- i know, i just meant like relationship wise, maybe i just have to be alone. I know I have all of you. We live in the same building block. I don't think we could be alone if we wanted” That makes them all sort of laugh and the tension breaks.

His siblings talk and joke and he ponders.

He wonders why sometimes they all act weird with him when he speaks about being alone. Why his adoptive dad always made sure to let them know he loved them. Simon was fun and took care of them, but it always felt as if he wasn't saying something.

However he sees his family be happy around him and he ignores that feeling of wrong that always permeates around him. He won't dampen their happiness with his own pessimistic thoughts and paranoia.

So yes, Peter bakes, makes models of ships on his free time, takes pictures a lot-

He found out he enjoyed keeping pictures of things he liked, plus taking odd ones of his siblings. It was just… harmless fun, more often than not he went to the port to take pictures of the ships. He wondered how it would feel to have his own.

Still that's a dream for someone else.

Peter Fairchild is happy with the quaint little life he has.

It stands to reason that his life would be upturned on a Tuesday, Peter has a personal hate towards that day of the week and it makes sense that this happened then.

Aaron was running late, he had to help a friend move out and it took longer than expected, the cafe opened earlier than usual and there were a lot of people. Judith could not take all the orders on her own, and their sisters would not be able to help at least for another hour. So with a sigh and discomfort he goes to take orders.

They work faster like that at least.

Its when he asks about the order of some guy working on his laptop that he gets hit with something familiar.

“One black coffee and a chocolate croissant” The order rings alarm bells on his head so he looks to the face of the owner.

A man with curly auburn hair, red glasses and freckles gives him a practiced strained smile that he sees in more clients, but what actually makes him almost drop the paper he was writing on was the eyes, they were such a cool shade of grey.

He flounders and the man raises an eyebrow impatiently, so he writes quickly and goes back to get order. She gives him a puzzled look since she is usually the one taking them to the customers, but Peter shakes his head and works.

His hands move on autopilot to make the coffee, and even if he says black he puts just the right amount of milk and sugar that his mind provides.

Picking up one of the freshly made croissants and after hesitating a chocolate chip cookie he goes and gives it to the man quietly and without a word. That done and his sweaty palms and his heart going faster he goes to hide in the kitchen, expecting to get yelled at for messing up the order-

But nothing happens.

Judith comes to check on him, but Peter was at that point just cleaning up a little bit and waves her away. Nodding she hesitates and hugs him a little bit before going out. He lets out a breath and sighs.

Lydia and Clara come 10 minutes later and he can stay cooped out in the kitchen in peace. Still he can't help but to be nervous about the customer he gave the coffee and cookie.

Why did he change his order? It was insignificant but it just sounded right. Fretting a little he finishes cleaning the plates. Nothing else comes about and by the time they close the man is gone.

The feeling of loss becomes stronger.

He doesn't see him again for at least another 3 weeks, in fact the only reason he realizes is because Clara says there is a sour red head giving her and Judith the stink eye every time they try to get his order. His lips twitch upwards and he suggests sending Aaron, she rolls her eyes but asks the younger boy to go.

Its not five minutes later that he comes back just as perplexed.

“Is he trying to just get the wifi for free? I'm going to kick him off” Peter dries his hands and quietly prepares the order. Once he is done he sneaks out and delivers it to him, the man gives him a critical look that sends shivers down his spine. Both in disgust and familiarity.

“I didn't order yet”

“... Well you didn't let anyone take your order anyways” His lips purse in thought and he picks up the drink taking a sip. He puts the rest of his things down and goes to turn around to leave, when he asks how did he know how he takes his coffee.

Peter doesn't have a clue.

“You just looked like you needed something less bitter” He sees his mouth fall open slightly and Peter goes while feeling his ears burn, oh god why did he say that?

Once back in the safety of the kitchen, Judy gives him a look but pats his shoulder and goes out.

Ok, ok, he is fine.

The man keeps coming and refuses to let any of his siblings pick out his orders. So Peter is the one in charge to talk with him. Albeit that is an understatement. They merely snark a little, he gives him his order and goes. Whoever is working that day is supposed to charge him, Peter is only obligated to present the food. However the interesting thing is, that just as their cafe opens at weird hours of the day, the man appears there just as well, its kind of eerie how well he seems to know when it's open considering they have the oddest schedules.

Its in fact in one of those times they work at night that he sees him again. Usually he is very put together, but this time he looked… well messy. His hair looked as he had run his hands through it several times, his eyes were red and puffy and he honestly looked miserable.

Peter was completely baffled, the worst part is he wasn't sure what to do, or if he should say something.

The place was almost empty, his sister was keeping watch, so he just stands there and asks what he wanted that night.

He looks up to him and Peter has that feeling that this man should not be looking like this, he should be smug or sure of himself not… whatever this was. He also wanted to pull him towards him and that thought made his cheeks heat up.

“Just- heh, just surprise me i guess. Its been… its been one of those days” He is not sure what he means, but he nods and goes to make him something. Most of the names of the drinks and desserts were Lydia's ideas, the rest of his siblings alongside him were terrible at picking names. He is surprised they even let him pick the one of the cafe, but considering the other options, it was the least weird one.

Still they do have some that they chose for the orders.

Case in point.

The chocolate tower cake lovingly named the panopticon and his special coffee the watcher. It was named like that when it was proven that it had so much caffeine that it made you unable to sleep. He is sure he saw a guy stop blinking for like five minutes after insisting on drinking it, despite the warnings.

So once he grabs it, he takes it to the table and warns him.

“We are not responsible for the repercussions of drinking the watcher” The man looks at him and for the first time since he started to come he sees him smile, soon it turns into laughter. Peter watches while clutching the tray and feeling butterflies in his stomach.

He has a lovely laugh.

“What- what is so funny?”

“You- i- it doesn't matter. I get the name now I suppose. The cake?” The small chocolate tower had several fillings and it was very spongy and full of chocolate.

“Mm the panopticon is the best cake we have, surprised you didn't try it before little man” The slip up comes and he freezes expecting the man to say something or get annoyed, but all he does is sigh and smile more sadly at him.

“Thank you” Its weird and he is unsure what happened but he smiles back awkwardly.

He doesn't come back for 2 weeks.

Its raining when he sees him again.

It was Lydia and him and the place only had two clients sitting around drinking and talking amicably. He doesn't pay attention to the little whistle that lets them know someone entered, Simon thought it would be more fun than a bell.

Still his older sisters comes inside looking-

Frazzled?

Lydia is the most calm out of all of them so he immediately goes to see if she is fine, instead she shakes her head and points inside the cafe.

When he looks he sees the man, but he also realizes he has an awful bruise on his eye and chin as if someone had punched him. His heart sort of seizes and his sister goes out with him.

“Are you-”

“I want another watcher and panopticon” He doesn't let him finish, he is sitting close to the register. The man looks even more tired and wiped out.

“... I will get it?” Lydia elbows him. “Do you- do you want some ice for your face?” He can feel his sister disappointment and need to hit her forehead, but he honestly doesn't know what to say. The man, and he really needs to get a name, nods, so Peter prepares the order and gets some ice wrapped up for him.

“Thank you”

“You are welcome um..-?” He drifts and the man looks at him with one eye squinting due to the swelling.

“Jonah. In Jonah Magnus” He seems to be expecting something, yet Peter just nods.

“Peter Fairchild pleasure to meet you?” Lydia is giving him looks. Jonah seems to deflate, but smiles a little, albeit is tainted by the grimace of pain.

“Now that we have names can i eat?” He scowls but nods and lets him be. Still he checks on him from time to time and everytime he peeks from the kitchen window he sees him staring back at him. Peter blushes and works.

He leaves and he is left with questions.

Lydia acts very oddly and concerned about him and the man, but he waves her off.

Jonah comes back, still with the bruises but he looks more calm.

“I wanted to apologize for the scare, I had an altercation with… a friend. That went poorly as you can see” Peter nods and gives him his cookies.

“So- um.. I was wondering if perhaps as a… you know, treat for being so nice, you would like to go out to eat? Or well i was going to suggest getting some coffee but i think you might already be tired of it by now” It takes him a few seconds to realize he is asking him out. When he does he chokes on air and after thinking it a little he nods.

He sees Jonah smile become more real and realizes he was concerned he would say no. He also sees his cheeks start to slowly become more pink the more he stares. So he looks elsewhere and says they can pick a date later. Jonah nods, grabs the writing pad from his hands brushing their fingers and puts up a number.

“So we can arrange it more easily” Peter nods and laughs nervously while walking away. He feels them tingle pleasantly.

“YOU HAVE A DATE!!”

“With the weirdo Ju, i'm sure Peter can do better than him-”

“Cla don't be mean, plus he said yes so he is interested-!”

“That he is interested doesnt mean its good for him Aaron!”

“Don't be so sour-”

Lydia sits with him and they just watch TV calmly while the others talk in the kitchen making dinner. It was Saturday so they were having it in her apartment.

“Do you think it will make you happy?” The question is too particular, but his sister is always like that so he nods.

“It feels… right, more real than anything i suppose, i know its weird but i just…” He just sometimes feels as if he is sort of existing in some sort of empty space and that everything is his imagination.

Life is good. He has siblings that love him, a dad that cares for all of them instead of their original family that was terrible.

Peter has a job-

Life is perfect.

And yet-

This man is more real than anything else.

Like a splash of color in his grayscale world, he is infuriating with his answers when they have small talks at the cafe, but the banter is familiar, it gives him an ache that doesn't understand.

The same ache he thinks he got when he met James and Elias, only this time its because its right. Jonah is right. He is put out of his musings by a hand on his arm.

“I get it Peter… i really do. As long as you are happy its fine. Just… just know that we love you ok? Don't forget it” He tilts his head and sighs before giving her sister a side hug, the top of her head is a little below his collarbone, so he kisses it and says that he could never.

They meet up to actually have lunch.

Its… its nice.

Jonah is a little bastard and they spend time judging and betting on the people around. He also learns more about him.

He is working mostly in management, which he thinks suits him way too well, he seems bossy enough.

“Rude!” He grins at him and feels…

At ease.

The man likewise seems far more calmer and happy, it makes him oddly happy to see him like that.

They keep going out, sometimes for lunch, sometimes they get coffee somewhere else. But they do and the more he gets to hear him talk, the more he feels as if he had always know him, but just could not remember it. Sometimes Jonah seems that he knows him too and its sort of perplexing. Clara would say he stalked him, but its- there are such small things that its not possible for him to know, even if he had.

Its at their 6 date that he asks him to eat at his place. He looks surprised but nods.

When he opens the door and sees him, he almost stammers a holy fuck, he barely manages to get a hold of himself. Jonah looked-

Handsome, so so handsome. It sort of fried his brain a little bit.

So he lets him and tries to finish cooking to distract himself from saying something stupid or embarassing like-

Marry me.

No, no he is not that stupid.

Still Jonah offers to help and they work in tandem and it is such a familiar feeling he is left breathless.

They move as if they both already were used to having the other in their space, its… nerve wracking. Peter wants to know why.

The dinner is delicious and they end up curling on the couch watching tv, Jonah is using him as a giant pillow and Peter can't complain, the weight on top of him actually makes him feel comforted and also sleepy…

He sees the man yawn and before thinking it better asks if he wants to crash here since its late and they are both tired. Jonah blinks at him and he sees him hesitate, so he assures him he won't take it bad if he says no, it was merely a suggestions and-

He laughs and nods before hiding his face on the crook of his neck. He lets out a breath almost as if punched and feels his cheeks warm up while grinning like an idiot.

Once they change and he offers the man a shirt that hangs a little bit too loosely around his frame they get in bed and Peter sort of… stares, Jonah does the same.

“Hey” His lips twitch.

“Hey yourself” It's not clear which one of them moves first, but the next thing he knows they were kissing. It wasn't rushed or anything merely a press of their lips that sets him aflame inside. God he loves him doesn't he?

He loves-

He-

…

Oh.

Son of a bitch.

He bites his lip lightly making the man complain and then he pulls back.

“You sneaky bastard” He sees him frown and then light up with realization.

“Oh”

“Hello Elias” He frowns.

“Jonah if you don't mind” Peter mulls it over, thinking of James and Elias. It wasn't the body that he wanted.

It was the smug bastard that was piloting it that he loved.

“Jonah” The man shivers “I died” He sees him lock his jaw and close his eyes. How peculiar, he would not have hidden away before or shown… shame for what he can see on his face, he wonders what changed in this life.

Peter sees him swallow.

“You did” Nodding he thinks. He died, there were fear gods, he was a Lukas once upon a time, but now he was a Fairchild even if by adoption.

He grew alone, he grew with his siblings.

He was lonely, he was loved.

Peter sees a small tear escape Jonah along with his body being tightly coiled, as if waiting to sprint out.

The punches make sense now, if someone else remembered...

Letting out a breath and pulling at his hair in thought, Peter closes his eyes too and lets it all go over him. That was a life ago, and now? Now he is here and he was… content, but not happy.

Not until he found him again. Or more like Jonah found him.

Its easy honestly, the answer to what he wants to do with him and this chance.

Peter in his first life had only cared about two things, his god and Elias. One is gone, the other.. changed, but was still the same. The same man he had fallen in love with so many times, and in different ways through the years of their marriages and divorces.

The only one that had some form of hold over his heart.

“Come here my little siren” Jonah’s eyes flash open and he blinks a few more tears away before scrambling to his open arms. Its raining outside and the sound its what they hear beyond their breathing and the beating of their hearst. The lights of the room are dimmed and Peter finally feels right, he pulls the covers up and tangles their bodies together, fitting perfectly together.

Without forsaken he can admit it freely, that he loves this, loves the feeling of Jonah pressed against him, a different body, but also always the same.

He just needs to get used to it again, slowly playing with his hair he speaks.

“You are quite a bastard, but so am i and… as nice as this life is… i think its much better with you in it” Jonah shivers.

“What i'm trying to say is i missed you, even if i didn't remember you before. It was always like there was something amiss. A hole in my perfect little life”

“I-” He smiles tiredly.

“You didn't, i know, but its ok. I know you” Jonah shakes his head.

“I did- i just didn't know it either, i thought it was Barnabas at first, then the others, but… it was you. I missed you Peter, I really did…. Even- even in the apocalypse I still did, I would look into the lonely often. Useless sure, but i did” His plan had worked, but at the same time that was no longer their issue.

“Well I guess we are at an impasse. What do you want to do?”

“... I want- i want to stay, please” He thinks of his apartment, big enough for two.

“You will have to deal with my siblings and Simon, this time we stayed close” He snorts.

“If they don't kick me out, i was… an ass with them” Kissing his forehead Peter laughs.

“You were, but… they are happy for me”

“... then yes i would like to stay”

“Good, Jonah?” He looks up to him again, and Peter sees the eyes are the same, that this time they are right, leaning down he kisses him. They fumble in bed for a long while and when they are both sated and more used to each other's bodies, Peter lets the smaller man hug him from the back to cuddle and finally fall asleep.

“You know one would think you would enjoy the opposite of this-”

“I do, but i missed you, so hush and just sleep” He stays quiet for a little bit.

“Night Peter”

“Night, I love you”

“.... i love you too” He smiles.

In the morning they will make breakfast, Jonah goes to his place and he prepares to work. Once he sees him come in later on during the day he presents to him his order and gets a smile.

They will try to make this life count.

He wonders how long till he moves in with him.

On his way to buy groceries he sees a box with a familiar kitten left to the side of a building and he sighs. Better take his cat to the vet now, food can wait.

His sisters will be ecstatic.

Aaron not so much since he is allergic, but well.

It is his cat.

Life truly is good now.

He got his husband, his cat, family and job.

Humming along with the kitten pawing at his arms softly he feels the most happy as he has ever been.

#lonelyeyes #peter lukas #jonah magnus #captain the cat #mywritingf

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dylanxmin · 4 years ago

Text

Arranged Beauty ∣ m.yg

this fic is part of the event that hosted by @ / House of Ddaeng network.

y/n thought she is way good with being alone and rejects her parents insist on getting marrying with someone they offered, but soon after, she realizes she is not way good with being alone. contrary, she needs that arrange marriage.

pairing; min yoongi x reader

genre; fluff, angst, arranged marriage!ua, first date!au,

warnings; swearings, mention of sexual association, y/n gets bratty for a second but she’s gonna regret that, soft soft yoongi but also brat, jealous yoongi, they both just stupid,,

rating; pg-15

word count; 8.2 k

a/n; i have no idea what i did. it started as a waaay shorter story, but end like this, asfhas,, hope you’ll love this fic as much as like to write it. im curious about what you’ll think about this, so yes, feedbacks are highly appreaciated!! thank you for reading, lots of love ♡

Twenty-six.

That was the age when your parents started to pressure you to have a decent life. According to them, one can call their life as a decent one, if they are married, but they were also okay with a short time engagement. And when you hit the age of twenty-six, they start to bother you, bombard you with their wills to be grandma and grandpa.

Your mother's daring character even leads herself to offer you some pictures of the men she knows somehow. Lawyers, doctors, and of course the future CEOs of the very important companies.

At the age of twenty-six, you thought they were going crazy or trying to make you go crazy. Of course, you vetoed every man she offered you, even though your mom can be very, very persistent, you handled the situation well. Avoiding them until they get sick of your stubborn attitudes, and they stop keeping their hopes high. Well, your little sister's marriage had helped you with the issue, but either because of this and that, they stopped forcing you.

Even though your parents find it highly pathetic, you finally enjoyed winning the constant fight that was going on for years with them. In your single-roomed apartment, all by yourself, and no one there to heat your cold feet in the coldest days of winter.

And at the age of thirty-two, you start to think a lot. Overworking, and overthinking yourself with the black space in your chest.

The freedom you loved so much led you to stay single, one night stands, and the dates you go to a couple of times aside. Most days, it didn't bother you that much. Being alone and being all alone forever. Seriously, it didn't bother that much. Until you find yourself in the loop where you watch only romantic comedies, paying a great deal of money for the napkins, as you find yourself crying until your throat goes sore.

That's how you found yourself dialing your sister's number, mumbling some bullshit over the phone. Throat sore, eyes puffy and red from all the crying, words falling from your lips, and Eunji finds it too hard to understand what you were talking about. She puts you on speaker, calls for her lovely husband he loves so much, and hoping Hoseok could understand what was going on with you.

''... not wantin' that. Don' want to die alone,'' freshly married couple only manage to pull these words from your mouth, and couldn't clarify the thing you babbled.

Does it sound completely pathetic? Well, if you have the authority, you can always blame the cherry martini. And if you have to be honest, despite you don't want to, it was more like lots of gin side with cherries.

According to what you say to them-- you, of course, couldn't remember what you said. And how much they told your parents, you at the age of thirty-two found yourself in a first meeting. With the man you'll be married.

Arranged marriages weren't your thing, but seeing your friends getting married one by one, having children, and happily married in front of you, basically forced you for doing this. Thirty-two years old so-called modern advertiser gets sick of the loneliness she had and agrees to an arranged marriage. And this is no other person than you.

When Eunji and Hoseok come to visit you and giving you the big news with a wide grin, you didn't think that they would find someone so quickly, but as the rumor says--rumor was no other than your sister--, the very charming neurosurgeon who is only thirty-five couldn't find himself a decent woman to marry. Not to your surprise, your parents get so hyped up with the news, and to your luck, the man--soon after you learn that his name was Yoongi. Min Yoongi-- happened to be the very best friends of Hoseok.

Without wasting any more time, your parents meet with each other on the phone, both women burning with the desire for a grandchild, even though they already have. And the fathers, talking formally with each other, and saying how being single after the thirties is dangerous for one's career. Deciding the time and place for both of you two meet, and even your parents decide what you should wear.

It all feels like you are the head actress in a movie, where your parents forced you to marry the rich man for your family's debt. In all reality, there was no debt or force. Maybe there is a little force, but in the end, you wanted them to find someone for you. When you keep thinking about it, guilt starts to creep towards your chest. Questions with unknown answers fill your mind.

What if the man turns out as a psychopath? What if he has some weird kinks that you can't handle? The more you think everything scares the shit out of you. You cover your face with your palms, you groan while your head falls on the table. How could you be this stupid to agree on what your parents always wanted? Arranged marriage? What time is this? The late seventies?

In the internet age, you really did agree on meeting with the man you probably were going to marry in a small coffee shop that your parents chose, wearing a blue dress that also your parents picked.

Is it too late to go back? What if you leave before he gets here? Probably he doesn't know how you look--as you had no idea about his face or body image. A huge knot sits on your throat, making it hard to swallow your regrets. Not that you were giving lots of crap about someone's look, but what if he is not your type? Is it okay to leave after ten minutes of talk? What if--

''Ih-hım,'' before another ball of questions jerk into your mind, a fruity voice cuts you, ''L/N Y/N?'' while you taking your hands from your face and lifting your head from the table, the comforting fresh odor fills your nostrils even before you see the man. ''Y--yes,''

Between in your slight nods, twinkling your eyelashes while staring at the man in front of you. Thick blonde haired-man eyeing you above, a light smile hangs on his face, square glasses stand under the button nose. Contrary to your dismay, he is looking good. His smile gets wide, hangs his hand in the air, ''I'm Min Yoongi. It's nice to meet you,''

It takes a couple of minutes before you realize that you should greet him the way he did. Even though you try hard not to act like an idiot, you are flummoxed by his sudden appearance. The voice of the chair tumbling to the floor echoes in the shop, causing all the heads to turn towards you when you clumsily get up. ''Oh, I'm so.. sorry,'' you jabbered after your head bumps to the man's when both of you try to fix the chair.

''I'm really sorry,'' you utter in agony and guilt. Probably you look like an idiot, rather than only feeling like it. He smiles and waves his hand like it's nothing after adjusting your chair. ''I'm not going to suffer from it, don't worry,'' he chuckles, eyes staring deeply. Even though he isn't much taller than you, his soft but scanning glares made you feel smaller. He put his hand in his pocket, flexing his shoulders while standing inches away from you. Before your mind works properly and offers him to sit, you keep watching his sight. Eyes wander, settles on the others without landing on you, glancing up to the ceiling.

''Oh my--Please take a seat,'' you plead, gesturing the chair across from the table. His brows raise with your high pitched voice, but the soft smile takes its place without wasting time. He nods, taking his seat in front of you. The reason why you act like this is both caused by how attractive he is, and how nervous you are. Either way, you feel dump while sitting across from him.

After you take your place, long silence arises between you two. So, you take the advance from this silence by scanning him. From head to toe.

He is wearing a dark blue sweater, a black coat on top of it, with black pants. The only colorful thing was his blonde hair, and it surprises how he looks so good with it. One glance and anyone could understand how important he is and the job he does. He is intimidating, contrary to his small smile on the corner of his lips. When your stare meets with him, you understand that he is scanning you the same way you do. Were you looking good? Does the dress look stupid in this weather? Despite his coat and sweater, you were wearing a blue thin dress with black spots. You wonder if the cut on the dress is too low or not. Not that you can do anything about it.

''So, you are a doctor?'' his eyebrows rise with your statement. It was stupid of you, but the bizarre silence only causes you to grow more anxious. Yoongi places his hands on the table, holding his laugh on the back of his throat. He feels how anxious you are, and he enjoys how your expression changes when you think you said something stupid. He finds it cute. He nods and smiles while your face goes pink. ''Neurosurgeon, yes.''

''Cool,'' blinking your lashes, you start to nod in small. You didn't know if he is interested in you or the opposite, so you didn't want to make, or say something weird and scare him away. So, when the waiter came and took your orders, you thanked him mentally. Because you were at the edge of asking how much money he makes, and looking like a total gold digger. Aish... why can't you act like a normal woman for a minute?

''And you?'' the husky voice of the semi-stranger made your heart flinch and gathered all of your attention to himself. You tilt your head and he sees your glazed face. ''What you do for a living?'' he asks one more time. Rather than finding you oddly idiot, he likes the way your cheeks go pink. ''Ah. Work. You mean... my job,'' he nods, the smile bigger now. ''I-I'm working for an advertisement company... yes,'' normally you would find your job highly amusing and cool, but with him, you feel small. Like the job you have was nothing, as he touches brains every day. Oh... you feel like an idiot. A real idiot.

''Oh. That's cool,'' he smiles, nodding his head the same way you did. And he enjoys the way your cheeks blushes after his little tease.

And you couldn't understand why he was acting so... kind. Contrary to all the things you did, which they were very stupid, he didn't mind them. Rather, he looked like he enjoyed them, and this literally made you feel uneasy. It was strange. Yes... strange.

''Really?'' you tilt your brow, ''You think that's cool? Or, are you trying to insult me?'' his eyes went round, blinking them a couple of times.

''Did I sound like that?'' he lifts his hands up, fixing his posture to emphasize and look sincere to you. ''I didn't mean to sound like that. I'm sorry and of course, I am not trying to insult you nor the job you do.'' you nod, expecting his apology. It was your time to enjoy the way he looks dumbfounded.

''Iced americano,'' when the waiter comes with your orders, you hear him release a long breath under his breath. The way he takes a sip from his cup, and not knowing where to look kinda warms your heart, and you feel bad for mocking him, but still, you were having fun with this.

After a couple of minutes of silence, you decide it wasn't fun to mock with him. Instead, it killed the mood and now Yoongi wasn't talking, probably too scared to talk with a psycho like you as you just accused him something he didn't do like some hebete. And the way you found it funny, left its place to regret while you were playing with your mug, chewing inside of your mouth in guilt.

''H-how did you met with... Hoseok?'' yes, you know it is a lame question to ask but the stupid awkwardness was eating you alive, and you want it come to an end.

''College,'' he pressed his lips together, eyes carefully sizes you up as he doesn't want to say something to offend you. And you were sure that was going to be the last thing he said, and probably leave after drinking his coffee in rush. But he surprises you with the sudden giggle. ''In the first year of college, we decided to go to a Carnival and I still don't know why we decided to do it. But in the roller coaster, suddenly someone held my hand and never left it until it stopped--''

''Oh my... don't tell me it was Hoseok!'' you jerk your hand to your lips, very amused by the new information he gives.

''Jackpot.'' he doesn't even try to hold his smile back, nodding his head cutely. ''I had to take care of him for the rest of the night. Because he was so frightened and needed someone.'' both of you start to laugh with the memory of him. Even though you would never think Hoseok would do that, somehow you could imagine him doing that. Somehow that suits him well.

''Yoongi, you gave me the best card ever against him.'' you chuckled, wiping the tears from your eyelids. ''He will feel remorse over setting this meeting,'' your stomach starts to ache a little from the laugh you share with him. And you were glad that he didn't let go of this date and made you laugh like this.

Yoongi waved his hand while leaning to take a sip from his cup, ''He will probably kill me for telling you this.'' the corners of his mouth turned up before he talked again. ''You should protect me from him as I share this with you.'' you exchange looks with him. The playfulness of him surprised you and how he changed the mood so smoothly.

You nod with a smile on the corner of your lips, staring at his eyes. ''Of course. I will.''

After exchanging the memory of your mutual friend, the bleak mood left its place to a warmer one. There were a couple of good jokes, more questions to get to know each other better, and you almost forgot that this was the arranged date and you had so much fun rather than you assume. With the timid glances, leaning each other to hear better, and the way you two get closer in time felt like a real date. Not a date your parents arranged.

Now you know about his love for music, and one could never doubt his passion for it. The way he talks about it causes your heart to hum, seeing how his eyes go all shiny while showing you his carefully made it playlist warmed your chest, you can't lie. Seeing someone getting this enthusiastic about the thing he loves brought the memories of how you liked to paint at one time. Getting all dirty while trying to achieve your goals, nose went numb because of the smell. You loved it.

Somehow, the blonde man finds his way to your heart, and you had no objections to this.

''Okay, tell me yes,'' you tear yourself off from the memories, and adjust your focus on him. Hands up in the air, eyes gleaming in anticipation.

''I will,'' you said in a curious tone, seeing the corners of his mouth turning up, ''If, I know the reason,''

You giggle the way his eyes going round, he looks like you betrayed him. A thing about him always finds its way to make you feel relaxed around him, and it was like you knew him for more than three hours. ''After all the things we share, all the laughter and all these minutes. I thought you would say 'yes', but I guess I'm a fool,''

''Uh, if you are going to be this dramatic, then yes. For what is in your mind,'' you can't ignore the gasp that escaped his mouth, hand wraps his heart, shushing to fix the broken pieces of it. ''We were thinking about treating her with the best chicken wings in the country, but she decides to act rude. Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?'' he pouts, faking an attitude.

''Oh. Pardon me and my bad mouth.'' you decide to continue the game he started. ''From now on, I won't have a second doubt about saying 'yes'. Promise.'' his mouth curved into a smile after you lifted your pinky finger in the air, and without wasting time, he wraps his around yours.

''And tell me more about those chickens,'' you say, stealing a laugh from his chest.

''Oh my--god.'' your hiccup interrupts you while laying yourself on the back of the booth. You lick the sweet chilly from your finger, having a food baby in your stomach never felt this good. It was the best chicken you ever eat, and you almost started to cry after tasting it the first time. The sweet chili sauce and the crispy cover on the chicken wings just blew your mind and took your mouth with it. If you could, you would eat a dozen of them.

''Right!'' Yoongi voices with pleasure, takes another bite to fill his mouth, ''This brings heaven to your mouth. No less.'' your laugh cuts in the middle as a cramp finds its way to your stomach. You really ate too much.

''You were right, but I guess I'm going to faint.'' opening the little packet, you start to clean your fingers with the wet wipe, the sharp smell immediately fills your nostrils. You did enjoy every bite, it wasn't a lie. But you could feel the heaviness on your stomach from all the eating and the drinking. You were over thirty and there was no point worrying about eating too much or drinking beer on the first date.

To be honest, you would worry about this if the date was not with him. But with him, with Yoongi you don't feel the need for acting differently. You like the way you can do whatever you want to do.

''What about another round?'' his eyes gleamed with a mischievous hint. It was triggering the ache in your stomach, and as every sensible human being, you should say no. But the sweet taste lingers on your teeth, numbs your tongue with its savor.

''You are inviting me to sin.'' you wipe the corner of your mouth while trying to lean towards him, but the body feels like a ton. Despite the ache and the handicap on your way to breath, you reveal a big grin. How could you say no while he looks at you with those bright browns? You couldn't. ''And I'm happy to participate in this. Course you need to pay for my hospital expenses,''

He lets out a choked, husky laugh. Holding his stomach while serving you the best gummy smile, and looks deep into your eyes after adjusting his posture. ''Believe me,'' the way he licks his bottom lips just does something to you. Levitates your stomach, sticks your breath on your throat. If someone would ask you, you would gladly accept to watch him sit in front of you. That's something you are sure about. ''You won't regret eating too much of this. No one can.''

He holds his hand up after tearing his eyes from you, calling the waitress for the second round. A grin stuck on his lips, you stupidly believe him. You would believe if he said he is the president of the world, and that was stupid. But you didn't mind, as your heart never filled with this much joy for so long.

With a wiggle in your stomach, you feel heavy on the heart. Overwhelmed by his actions, the way he affects you. The way he has the cutest, heartwarming smile made you angry as he had no right to look like this. With the blonde hair, smart-looking glasses, and the round button nose that you just wanted to boop your finger.

It was enough to catch you on his spell but too much for your poor heart.

You know that you owe a big thanks to Hoseok for arranging this date-- you didn't know what this was, to be honest. Was it a date that he agreed just for fun and not calling you in the morning, or is he thinking this is more serious than a silly date? You didn't even know what or how to think about this. Yes, you agreed to an 'arranged marriage' thing with your parents, but were you going to marry the first man you date? Were you going to decide after one date?

Whether deciding it after the first date, or the first man, you only know one thing. And that is the amount of joy and happiness you feel heavy on your chest. Only watching him while he is eating chicken wings in extreme delight was enough to change the speed of your heartbeats, so you had only one thought. Letting him decide.

Your judgment wouldn't be clear or sensible, you know that as the heat on your chest won't stop growing minute by minute you spend with him.

Letting him decide if this is just a one-time thing he just agreed for his friend's sake, or he would consider marrying you. You didn't know if handing the ball in his hands was being selfish or the contrary, but you just want to enjoy the moment and not overthink it. Or about him.

No lie, you liked him. Maybe even too much for the first date, but screwing this up the last thing you want as you always do. Selfish or not, you choose not to make a decision.

''Can I open my eyes, now?''

Everybody would like a little excitement in their life, as well as you. But you never imagine that excitement would be like this, taking somewhere on your first date with a blindfold. It was much more likely a napkin from the place you ate the chicken wings than a blindfold, but it didn't change the result.

Yoongi decided to take you somewhere you could burn the calories you have been whining about. Probably you wouldn't come up with an idea about the place, but as you were almost walking for almost ten minutes, it should be close. Thinking and trying to guest the destination was useless, as you never came here before.

One second you were worrying about marriage, but now, all that worry turns into losing your lungs. If you could stop being dramatic, you trust Yoongi enough that he wouldn't do such a thing, but would you ever stop? That is trickier than taking away by a blindfold.

You hear Yoongi's sigh, very likely getting sick of your questions, as you never shut up asking questions. But how could you stop exactly? How could you expect him to hold you by the wrist, covering the napkin on your eyes after handling the check and saying he knows how to burn those calories. He is not resembling a creep, but who would do and say such a thing? It is suspicious.

''Okay. You would probably slap me after finding out where we are, and the unnecessary act of cutting your sight,'' he pauses to let a giggle, hands of him leave your waist and wrist, ''Either way, prepare to defeat Y/N,''

Before his fingertips find the hem of the napkin and free your eyes, you collect the latest clues about the place and the thing he said. A couple of boy's voices reach your ears, shooting and directing each other. The very last hints you could get before the lights dazzle your eyes.

''Ow,'' you whispered, covering your eyes to protect them from lights in a reflex.

Yoongi stands there, waiting beside you while you blink your lashes in the cutest way possible, watching your eyes go between him and the basketball court. The corner of his mouth quirked up, enjoying way too much with how you look at him with wide eyes in awe. ''So?'' he holds his arms in the air, makes a circle with his body, and stops after turning his face to yours once again with a proud smile on his lips.

''So?'' you repeat, tilting your brows. Seeing the three boys playing basketball on one of the hoops, the other one is empty, waiting for you two to play on there. There was another couple of people who were sitting on their portable chairs, drinking from their cups, and laughing. It was them and the boys who were too caught up with their game but even thinking to play in front of them made you nervous. It was duskily illuminated, but still, you had worries to play.

''What, too scared to play with me?'' pale blond lifts an eyebrow, seeing the timid look on your eyes, he leans over, brushing his shoulder to yours, ''You know you can't beat me, don't you?'' a sheepish smile stands on his face to tease you. Yoongi didn't know about you too much, yet he could understand pushing your legs would pay.

''Tch, please.'' just the way he thought, your ego beats your anxiety. ''I could crush you with my amazing triple shoots,'' you stick your tongue out, can't help but act like three years old while challenging him. The way you act, causes him to burst into a laugh. When he thinks you can't look cuter than before, you stand in front of him, sticking your tongue out. He must have done something so good to have you in return.

''Well well, then you should show me those 'amazing' shoots,'' while you tilt your brows for the second time today, he leaves you in surprise, turning his back at you and starts to walk away.

''We don't have a ball to play!'' you try to remind him, yelling at his back but he turns around, grin on his face. If he tries to look cool, you know he won't look his butt on the ground because walking backward isn't cool, or a sensible thing to do. ''You think?'' he shouts back, the mischievous glow could be seen from where you stand.

What does 'you think' mean? You don't have a ball to play if he didn't plan this before and take one with himself but to your knowledge, you are not blind. Because one can see the orange ball-- You could go on the debate in your mind if he wasn't talking with the boys you notice before, taking their ball after having a small talk with them.

Yoongi walks over you, bounces the ball, swirling it around his body. Basically showing off, trying to surprise you with the moves he made. You watch as the wind messes with his hair, how he grips the ball, and bounce it like a professional. He is good at what he does, and you could understand that with a glimpse of look, but also you can catch the way his eyes follow the ball, lips curled up with the delight he feels.

You cheer for him when he passes the ball between his legs, without paying it much effort. You didn't know he was this good, as he never mentioned his interest in it, but seeing it with your bare eyes rather than just mentioning is way better. Well, little did he know you haven't shared the same interest with him.

''Okay Jordan, pass me the ball,'' you wave your hand, directing him where to stand after he throws it. He giggles the name you call him, blessing your ears while waiting for you to make a shoot.

It's only been a day, yet you feel like knowing him more than one day, way too comfy around him while talking, eating, or acting. You don't know if this is one of your dreams, where it affects your subconscious because all of the romantic movies you had watched too much in depression. Or simply, this man who makes you do stupid things like eating dozens of chicken wings is just a wizard. And you are affected by one of his spells, can't make proper decisions, and probably he isn't this good looking. It is all because of the spell he did.

His eyes are not this bright, his cheeks are not that cute and tempting you to squeeze them. Or his lips are not that mesmerizing and you only want to taste them every time he smirks just because of the damn spell. You are old enough not to charm by a hair, yet all you want to do is bury your fingers in that velvety fuzz.

''Are you gonna show me those shoots or too scared to move?'' his mouth twisted, pale skin peeking under his sweater and the coat he is wearing, glowing shamelessly. You nod, plastering a smile on your lips, can't get enough of his teasing. Even though you want to see his face after the shoot you are going to, retarding is more enjoyable.

So when you throw the ball with a false effort, causing it to fall inches away from the hoop, you hear the squeaked laugh you never heard before. Apparently, it was too funny for him as he almost kneeled in front of you from laughing, holding his stomach while his shoulders shake. ''Well, we can say that wasn't the amazing one so far, huh?'' he teases while wiping his eyelids. You could offend by his actions if this isn't all an act, and in reality, he is the one who should laugh at.

''Trying again? Okay, I can teach you the right way after that,'' you want to throw the ball to his head, his cockiness amazed you as you bite your lip to hold your laugh behind. The popular neurosurgeon was nowhere to be found when you eyed him. And you like the way he leaves the maturity aside, having fun with you and the time you two spend. You could easily say after spending enough time that he wasn't acting, the laugh that leaves his throat is real, as well as the shine in his eyes. Part of you doesn't want to wreck his mood or turn off the cocky light in his eyes but on the other hand, you desperately want to see his face after you stop acting and shoot a real basket.

You bet the blonde prig won't be expecting you to take an oh so good shoot, and the cunning side of you wants to wipe that smile on his face. You want it so bad and can't help the way your body moves to the right corner, dividing your strength equally to your legs and arms before taking a shoot. With a light jump, you send the ball right into the basket, it takes two turns on the hoop before passing through it. It wasn't the best triple shoot, but you only played it in your free time with your family, yet you know that your body reveals that you played basketball very well. Much to his dismay, it was a perfect basket. You turn your head as you want to see his face, putting your hands on your waist and serving him a big grin. ''How about this one?'' the hint of your laughter can clearly be heard by him, not that you want to hide.

He stares.

And he stares for a long one minute, not talking nor giving you an idea with his expressions. After fixing your posture, your lips quirk in a pout, brows furrowed as you can't understand why he hasn't said anything or did. A knot sits on your stomach, you want to say something but your mouth goes dry with the uncertainty. While the deep silence takes over around you two, finally he shows a feeling on his face.

A line appeared between his brows, a beam flash past in his eyes, and he started to walk over to you.

Was he angry? Because you can throw a ball? Yes, you wanted some reaction, but anger wasn't the quite close expression you expect. With every step he takes, the hair on your body stands on end as you didn't know what to say. So you try to ease the nervousness you felt, ''Not so cocky after seeing this girl can play, huh?'' you mock, pointing yourself with your forefinger, wiggling your brows before he stands in front of you.

Way... way too close.

He stands so close that you could even see the little mole on the left side of his face, right beside his nose placed cutely on his cheek. The tiny whiteness on the same side of his lips, breaking the proportion but adding him another sweet flaw. You even pay attention to his facial line on the side of his nose, only to abstain from his eyes. Abstaining from capture by his lovely, velvety browns. And when he starts to speak, you can smell the chili sauces mixed with the beer he drank.

''Can you wear my coat?'' with a mouth that slowly opens, you stare at him without blinking. He tilts his brows slightly, it was tiny and almost non-visible, but you catch the twitch on his jaw.

''I'm sorry but, what?'' you baffled, obviously not expecting him asking that, and can not put it on logic. Under his bashful stare, you hear the sound when he takes a deep breath between his teeth. Cocking your head aside, you try to evaluate if you are cold or not, but you know that you haven't done anything for him to take as a hint that you are cold. Darting your eyes at him, your stomach flips over after realizing how good he looks under the slight street light that illuminated the court, the shadow of his eyelashes falling on his cheeks, mesmerizing with every blink. ''Y... you want me to wear your coat. And that's why? I'm not cold if this is what you think--''

''It's not. Not because you are cold,'' you watch him slipping his fingers on his hair, ruining the straight strands with a pout. Yoongi opens his mouth, but the weight of his words feels too much, he closes it again. He is thirty-five years old and should be mature enough to press this puberty feeling, and not want to cover you with his coat so no one can see the way your dress moves, expose the skin you covered with the same dress that betrayed you. And also, he knows he is not in the place to tell you what to do, or get jealous the way the others who size you up. But the first time after he gets mature enough, Yoongi can't find control over his emotions. ''I thought... thought that you could feel uncomfortable with the... dress,''

''Oh,'' you bite your bottom lip after getting caught off guard. Not that you are irritated or think it's possible, but is he just jealous, or is this just your mind playing games and causing you to think the impossible one?

''But you don't have to. I mean if you are okay with your dress. You just don't... don't have to wear this.'' bubbles of laughter fills your throat as he stands stunned with wide eyes, 'o' shaped mouth is enough to melt your heart and spread heat to your chest. You bite harder your lip to hold your laugh, bend your head staring your shoes. ''Is it too distracting for you to beat me, Yoongi?'' darting over your eyes at him, you open them wide, rolling his name on your tongue only to tease him more. Getting even closer to his face, you talk in a pout. ''Do you think it's can affect others just the way it does to you?''

An almost unhearable whimper leaves his lips, shaky breath hits your cheek. A shade of embarrassment crept towards his cheekbones, increasing his cuteness. He stares speechless, you could only catch the loud gulp from his throat and you know it is enough of teasing him.

''Okay, I'm admitting.'' taking a step back, you pat his shoulder. ''I'm a little cold, and it looks cozy.'' you lie while pinching his coat. His dull expression slowly fades, the corner of his lips tilt in the shape of a smile. Eye bags puffing up, face lines appear only to puss his soft cheeks on his cheekbones.

You are not going to admit this to him, but the way your heart flinches under your chest, the way his soft smile cuts your breath, and the way your fingers physically pains to touch his cheeks just unbearable to hold on. At first, you only thought that his lips were in a good shape, can be even called cute but right now, they were just tempting. It was almost aching how your feet itch to take a step closer, and closer until your breaths can mix with each other, and the so imagined taste meets with your lips.

''Here,'' he acts, taking his coat off of him swiftly to wrap it around you, and he does gently. Helping you to pass your arms in its sleeve, patting your shoulders after he links each button, as he looks way too pleased with the gummy smile that pinned to his face. ''Better now?'' he asks sincerely, wanting to make sure of your comfort, so you nod in appreciation.

The heat immediately rushes over to your body, you thought you were joking before but after feeling the relaxation on your muscles, you surprise how cold you were. Wearing a dress in this weather without any coat was a big mistake, you noted.

''So, if there is nothing you can object to, can we go on and play? Or, are you too scared?'' he scoffs at your playfulness, tilting a brow. Yoongi does not know how to react the way you wiggle your brows, the way you dare him with the buffoon smile. Luckily, he has another plan on his mind. ''So eager to taste the defeat, huh? All right then, I will give you a lesson.''

''Hah. Bring it on--''

''-But, before you get all moody, I want to do something.'' in return of his sparkling browns, your lips curl into a pout. Not expecting him to cut you off like this, even though he didn't do it without having any kindness. It only takes two seconds for you to realize what he was up to when his palms cover your cheek, timid touches of his fingertips on your skin. Is he going to kiss you in public? In your first time? Should you object? Between trying to ease the chaos on your mind, and understanding if you want this or not, hot breath already stands way too close to your lips. It was not a lie that you were thinking about kissing him a minute ago, but when this happened as a reality, you stand there like a deer in the headlights.

Before you can choke yourself with overthinking, his whisper cuts it. ''Can I?'' he raises his brows, asking for your permission one more time before going for it, making sure of your emotions and thoughts about himself. Eyes of him scan yours pleadingly, as he was trying to emphasize his intentions. You were so nonplussed by what he was up to that you couldn't even move a muscle, only blink hard enough to capture the moment, face turning scarlet with the heat just crept towards. Feeling your heartbeats on your cheeks, under his fingertips. Every loud hammer brought your heart over your mouth, mouth dried completely. But you manage to voice, almost inaudible.

''Please,''

When you met with his lips, it wasn't soft as you expected due to his dried lips, but soon after it changed. After you part your lips to capture his bottom lip between yours, a ball of warmness just explodes. Reaches till your fingertips from your chest, tiny mewl slides by you with the strong rhapsody you have inside.

It was palm pulling, lips trying to deepen the kiss kind of keenness you both felt for learning, acknowledging each other. Soon after one of his hands left your cheek to pull you closer as your fingers weren't enough to do so. The others were long forgotten, it was just you and him. Everywhere was clouded, protecting your intimacy from others.

You were only tasting, knowing, and capturing each other.

When the kiss broke out as both of you needed fresh air in your burning lungs, you were shocked by the way you carried away by your desire. You, probably Yoongi too, was feeling the same way, find this very immature, unwisely but the thing you feel, and wish that he was feeling the same way you do was beyond your imagination. The attraction was between you from the first time you started to bond today, but you could never think that would be this euphoric.

Between heavy breathing, and adjusting the moment you just shared cuts off by his hoarse voice. ''Was this highly good or is it just me?'' you snort at his silliness, slap him by the head before he can react.

''You'll get your answer if you can beat me,'' tearing yourself apart, you take the ball despite his whines. But as he sees you won't step back, he sends hair-raising glares at you.

Soon after, the contest loses its solemnity and turns into something where Yoongi chases you with the ball to throw at you. And you found yourself giggling, running away while screaming in tiny. With a glance at you two, and no one would believe you two for being over thirty but it felt so good to act without caring for anyone. You almost forget the feeling of happiness, cooing from joy, and having someone not minding your bullshits even on day one.

Of course, you accept how the kiss felt 'highly good', holding your palms up in surrender, before laying on the grass. Not that you lost the game, more likely from winning the better prize. The blond neurosurgeon, at age thirty-five was your prize. To be honest, he is the best thing that happened to you in ages without any exaggeration. For all you know is that maybe arranged marriages were not that bad.

Frankly, you wouldn't dare to lie and say you still object it while watching the man beside you. He gave you more than you expected. The comfort, happiness, and tickling bubbles on your chest. And you hope that would last long enough to the day you knew each other like an open book. As you wanted to know and more about him, every little detail, and every tiny mimic he makes.

And you will see that day if you are lucky enough.

''We are out of rice!'' you flinch with the loud voice, take a big sigh at the view you see in the mirror. Lipstick extends along to your right cheek from your lips, as the outcome of hearing the thick voice without any warnings. ''And the last toilet paper just finished!'' tsking audibly, you take the wet tissue to clean the mess you made. While wiping the ruins of the lipstick, you hear the whining voice once more, closer this time.

''We don't have any toothpaste, either. God, why don't we have anything? Aren't you supposed to take care of the grocery this time? It was your turn,'' the man is nothing but in black sweatpants and a white shirt appears, constant grumble on his mouth trying your patience. ''You have lipstick on your cheek,'' he points his face to address where the stain is as you lock your gaze on him by the mirror.

''You don't say,'' lifting the brows you watch him narrowing his eyes, scoffing at your answer. ''And I was thinking why I have wet tissue on my hand. Thank you, babe.'' he rolls his eyes, sighs while ruining his hair. Black hair flies in the air, every pinch falling another direction and it warms your heart. Your husband dyed his hair black from blonde after having a white hair crisis and deciding to dye it for good. Not that you didn't like the blonde hair on him, but black was something different. It gave destructive charisma to him that you adore so much.

It is the greatest thing since sliced bread.

''When you say they'll bring Hoseong and Aera again?'' after finishing the cleaning, you turn to your husband who asks nonchalantly but the light in his eyes says he is happy. ''They'll be here any time soon. Why?''

He shrugs a shoulder, acting as he is not interested. ''Just curios. I'll adjust my appointments so,'' you nod, giggling as you decide to reach him. Leaving your bean bag chair, you take a two-step to wrap your arms around his neck.

Brushing your nose to his, ''You love to hang out with them, don't you?'' you ask, mentioning your nephews. Even before he admits, you already knew that he adores them. Hoseong at nine and Aera at seven years old buck of happiness for Yoongi, and you can see it in his eyes. The way he plays with them, caring for them always puts a light serene in your heart, but you two never mentioned having a child. Soon after you are scared to open it as you are afraid that he doesn't want to have kids, but the love he had for your nephews always confused your mind and heart.

''Well, they are fun to hang out,'' he tears his eyes from you but you catch the attempt to hide the smile he had. Lips forcefully stay flat but gaze full of bubbles. But when you tilt your brows, staring at him with a pout, you break him. ''Okay, okay... I love those chubby kiddos. You know how smart they are, don't you? Aera asked my opinion about Pluto, whether it's a planet or not. Can you believe it?''

''You are so whipped,'' you let out a laugh that wrinkles your eyelids. His enthusiasm over your nephews made your day, a bolt of laughter spilled by your lips over and over again until you managed to ease it. ''such a cute man,'' wiping your tears away from your face cut by his hands when he grabbed yours.

''Y/N, did you... did you ever think about having a child? I know we never talked about this all these years, but I guess... No, I know I want one. Yes, I want us to have a child to raise together.'' his eyes burned with determination. It was enough for you to know he really serious about it. There was nothing for you to obligate it if you look. Both of you get paid well, had a nice home and big enough even for two kids, moreover, both of you love each other so much and you know that you two will love the exact same way if you have a child in this home. ''What do you think?''

Taking a deep breath to ease your thoughts you eyed the man you adored so much. His keenness sparkled in his eyes, waiting for your answer to be the happiest man alive. Even if you wouldn't want a kid in your life, you couldn't break his heart by saying no, but fortunately, you want this as much as him.

''I would love to have a baby who has the same gummy smile you got on there,'' Yoongi, your husband coos after what you said, holding you by the waist and twirls your body with himself. He acts like you just said you are pregnant, but you laugh and kiss him back when his soft one finds your lips. He thanks, swears that he will be the greatest dad and husband for this family.

The ring on the door cuts his words, tearing himself apart from you, he leaves to open the door wiggling his body in great joy. But you believe him. You would believe him even if he hadn't sworn and put his heart on it. He already was the best husband ever, and you had nothing to worry, frighten for. He will be the best dad in this world, as you know because he said so. Just like the time, he said you two will make a good couple after he took you home on your first date. As he said, you took his heart and his last name after four years.

Never regretting for one second on agreeing to go on an arranged date. And you knew that you won't have any other regret in the future, either. Not with the sweetest neurosurgeon you love so much.

#hodevent #houseofddaeng #heartsforbts #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #btsgoldnet #suganetwork #mygsnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #bts scenarios #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #dylanxmin

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ahwait-no-yes · 4 years ago

Text

“Beautiful”

TW// ED?? Ish?? Just my experience and im not gonna self diagnose

(Read at your own risk!! I’d hate to trigger anyone hh)

i am looking away as i project instead of talk to people about it

(Also Kaito and Kokichi are brothers but Ouma was adopted and uses his last name because he feels it’s still a part of him and yes they’re fine with it and yes he loves his parents and they love him) also me getting worse? more likely than you think —

There’s a bit of progress.

Shuichi pushed his hand against his stomach, trying to flatten it as much as possible. He remembered reading somewhere that your lower stomach would never be perfectly flat, seeing as you had your intestines that were taller than you in there.

You probably can if you try hard enough.

Shuichi grimaced once he looked at his face, running his hand through his hair. When was the last time he showered? He probably should. He cupped his face, gently squishing his cheeks. His face looked slimmer than before.

This is good. This is progress. We won’t go too far, we just wanna loose a few pounds. There’s nothing wrong with that.

He softly smiled at his reflection, ignoring the slight shaking in his hands. He didn’t want to go too far. He heard that not eating can cause hair loss. He didn’t want that to happen, so he wouldn’t go to far.

You’re doing good. This is good.

Shuichi laid back down, gently rubbing his forehead. Were his hands always this shakey?

Probably. It’s nothing to worry about, you can still write and draw fine if you need to.

He frowned at the familiar feeling of discomfort, yet his stomach didn’t growl. Maybe his body was just adjusting. He remembered reading somewhere that not eating just makes you gain more weight.

Which, probably wasn’t true. You look skinnier when you don’t eat.

He pulled out his phone, typing a question into google.

How many calories should 18 year old boy eat?

2,400

He thought about it. He definitely didn’t eat that many. A hot pocket and instant ramen. How much was that?

Hot pocket is 600 calories.

He looked it up.

371 calories.

Yeah, he’ll be fine. He feels fine. Shuichi looked at himself in the mirror, feeling panic wash over him. He didn’t look skinnier. Had he gained weight? He hadn’t weighed himself in a while. It was possible. He only ate two things. That wasn’t a lot.

Except that slice of cake was a lot.

Shuichi laid back down, curling up in a ball. He wrapped his fingers around his wrist. They could still touch. He sat back up, ignoring how he felt dizzy and how his vision darkened for a second. He pulled down his shirt collar, running his hand over his collar bone. It was more apparent now. Not all of his work had gone to waste. He wasn’t going to make himself throw up. He didn’t want to throw up and have to deal with the burning pain in his throat that would last for hours, or feel the lack of energy after it. When was the last time he drank water? He glanced at the half filled water bottle, grimacing. Water doesn’t have calories, but it would make his stomach more obvious.

He wasn’t that thirsty anyway.

—

Shuichi sat down with his friends, who were currently talking about getting together to study. He wasn’t really paying attention, his mind seemed a bit hazy. Not too much, luckily. When an ad of someone eating came up, he frowned. It never made sense how people could just eat without worrying about what would happen.

Maybe he was just a little scared of food. No big deal. The thought of eating just made him feel sick and scared.

“Hey, are you listening Shuichi?” Kaito suddenly asked, one of his eyebrows raised. Saihara sheepishly smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I spaced out. What were you saying?” “We all said that were gonna meet up this Saturday at 2 pm. Is that good?” Kaito asked, his usual confident smile on his face. “Yeah, I don’t have any plans,” Shuichi replied, tugging on a loose string. “Great! We’ll see you there!” —

This whole thing was a bad idea.

The five of them, consisting of Kaito, Kaede, Harukawa, and Ouma (including himself) were cramped into a small booth. Ouma kept throwing small bits of food at Kaito when he wasn’t looking, Kaede kept trying to stop Ouma, (though, he kept crying whenever she said anything about it) and Harukawa kept glaring at him from across the table. Shuichi didn’t have time to look over the food, (calories, really) so he just chose something that sounded good. It ended up being soup, which he was mostly fine with.

Mostly fine with.

Shuichi didn’t want to eat. He wasn’t hungry. He ate enough yesterday. “Hey, Saihara chan! You okay? You look like you swallowed a whole rock!” Kokichi chirped, an excited smile on his face. Shuichi just nodded, pulling at the loose hoodie he was wearing.

He’d be fine. It was just a bowl of soup. It’s not a big deal.

He just stirred the soup, trying to think of ways to quickly finish it. The loud noise felt so overwhelming. He just wanted to leave. To go back home. “I’m gonna be right back,” Saihara abruptly stood up and left to the restroom. He just needed some time to think, to calm down. He quickly locked himself in a stall, leaning against the door.

He felt so, so sick.

Saihara took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. He was overreacting. If he didn’t eat, his friends would suspect something. He didn’t want to answer any questions about eating, so he’d have to eat. He shouldn’t be having to deal with this. He missed being able to eat and not think anything of it. He didn’t know when this started. It felt as if,

this,

had been going on for as long as he could remember. Shuichi rubbed away the tears that had managed to slip out. He shakily took a deep breath, (was it always this hard to do anything?) and opened the door. He didn’t say anything when he saw Ouma waiting at the entrance. “Heya Saihara chan!” Ouma walked up to the other, a soft smile on his face. “Uh, hey,” Saihara muttered, splashing his face with water. “Soo! You okay? You looked a tinyyy bit upset earlier!” “I’m fine, I just had a headache,” He murmured, the lie easily slipping off his tongue. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth either. A half truth at the best. Kokichi hummed in acknowledgement. “So, are you gonna leave because of that nasty headache?” He asked innocently, tilting his head. Trying to find holes in his story. “Maybe, I don’t want it to get worse,” He replied. More lies, more half truths. Ouma just nodded, still staring at him. Shuichi finished washing his hands and quickly dried them off, shoving them into his pockets.

Was he always so cold?

“Well, uh, I’m gonna go home. Can you tell them why? I don’t wanna interrupt them,” He looked away, fidgeting. Kokichi just nodded and placed his hands behind his head. “Sure thing Saihara chan!” — Shuichi was laying down, tears running down his face. Things were getting worse and worse, and he felt so helpless. He kept trying his best, sleepless nights studying and memorizing things he’d probably never have to use.

It didn’t matter anyway, it was never enough. He wasn’t enough.

Everything hurt. He hadn’t eaten for a while. He had two bites of egg, but it made him feel so nauseous and guilty he just threw the rest away when no body was looking. He was tired. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t do much other then watch the clock tick away, waiting for the day to be over.

A knock at the door.

Shuichi, of course, ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, and didn’t want to deal with his heart feeling it was going to beat out of his chest and his vision blacking out for a a few seconds.

Though, he had gotten used to it.

The knocking continued. Shuichi groaned and stood up, grabbing onto his dresser so he wouldn’t fall. His vision took longer to clear up, and he still felt dizzy.

It’s just an inconvenience. Don’t worry about it.

He stumbled over to the door, taking a second to rub his head in hopes it would clear up the dizziness.

Spoiler alert, it didn’t work

. He opened the door, staring at Ouma grinning up at him. “Hey Saihara chan! Fancy seeing you here!” He exclaimed, eyes shining in excitement. “I live here,” Shuichi deadpanned, quietly sighing. “I know!” Kokichi chirped, gently pushing past Shuichi and walking in the house. “Uh, Ouma kun, why exactly are you here?” He asked, closing the door and following him. “Oh, you know,” He very helpfully replied, a nonchalant expression on his face. “But hey! Since I’m here, why don’t we do something fun!” He abruptly said, spinning around to face the other boy. “I don’t know, I’m kinda busy,” He replied, avoiding eye contact. “Busy with what?” Kokichi asked, getting closer to his face. Saihara backed away, looking uneasy. “With stuff,” he vaguely replied. Ouma sighed, grabbing his hand, only to let go a second later. “God Shumai, why’re you so cold?” He asked, pouting. Shuichi just muttered something, messing with the loose sleeves of his hoodie. It was quiet for a few seconds. Kokichi kept staring at Shuichi, trying to figure *something* out. Saihara kept shifting in place, feeling more and more panicked as the seconds passed. “We can watch a movie then!” Ouma suddenly exclaimed, a soft smile on his face again. Shuichi just nodded, nervously smiling back. “Do you have popcorn?” He asked. Shuichi just mumbled, “Yeah, probably.” After a few minutes, they put on a random movie and had a bowl of popcorn sitting in between them. Kokichi offered some every now and then, only for Shuichi to say no everytime.

He could just grab some.

“I’m gonna be right back, you don’t have to pause it,” Shuichi muttered, standing up. He still felt a bit dizzy, and standing definitely didn’t help. Kokichi just nodded, eyes glued to the screen. Shuichi locked himself in the bathroom and took a deep breath. It used to be he was hungry but didn’t eat. But now, the smell and thought of food made him feel nauseous.

You could eat and make yourself throw up.

He grimaced. It wouldn’t be difficult, really. He could just stick two fingers into his mouth until he threw up. He could. It’d be easy. It’d be no big deal. He shakily sighed, covering his face. He didn’t like throwing up. It hurt, and it made it even harder to breathe. It was also just gross.

But it might make things a but easier. You don’t have to force yourself to throw up, but you can try. Like drinking a lot of water.

Yeah, he could do that.

After a few laboured deep breaths, he left the bathroom and sat back down on the couch. Kokichi continued the movie (though, he didn’t have to pause it,) and smiled at him. Shuichi smiled back, wrapping the blanket around them.

Why did he feel so scared? So sad? It didn’t make sense, he was fine right now.

“You ok Saihara chan?” Kokichi quietly asked, still staring at the screen.

He’s really not. He’s not. He’s not ok. He needs to talk to someone. Something’s wrong.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” He murmured, taking a deep breath. Ouma just nodded and gently grabbed his hand, just loose enough so he could pull away if he wanted. Saihara squeezed his hand, trying to ground himself. He was

fine.

Ouma squeezed back, a small smile on his face.

Is it really a white lie if you don’t think it’s a big deal?

—————

Hm - DA ☄️✨

✧༺♥༻∞

yyeah ouch I wish I could him a hug,, the line “He couldn’t do much other then watch the clock tick away, waiting for the day to be over.“ hit me very hard so that’s what I based this end doodle on (-JJ)

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btssavedmylifeblr · 4 years ago

Note

I forgot to send on my voting story. Ok so my brother and I both got mail in ballots, and let me tell you how we both forgot to mail it in so we just thought to bring them to our voting location. The lady there kinda yelled at us? She was confused and didn't know how to go about it. And honestly I just took it because we were the idiots who didn't mail in our ballots. We had to rip them up and they just us new ones to fill out in person and submit. Not exciting, but a story for void snippet. 👀

Anonymous said: Hi!! I'm so excited for void! I voted today around 30 minutes before the polls closed in my neighborhood because I had to wait for my dad and brother to get home from work since they wanted to go all together hehe. It was a pretty fast process! We just pressed buttons on screens (compared to last election where we had to bubble in everything by hand) plus, I got to keep the stylus that they gave us and it works on phones too! 🥰🥰 Thank you! I love your writing so much 💜💜💜

Anonymous said: I did mine through mail me and my husband did and we went to the post office a little while back and then he took us on a nice little date afterward and we got ice cream! Also I love void💖 keep up the good work

Anonymous said: VOTES FOR VOID??? I love democracy and I love VOID! So since May I've (temporarily) moved back home from New York to Indiana RE: covid; I've voted absentee for the both the primaries and presidential election (I'm still in IN rn...blah). I voted early and mailed in my ballot for the presidential election (about 3 weeks ago). Made sure my family was voting (brother mailed it in, mom dropped off a ballot, and dad did early voting) and encourage them to put up a Biden sign in our yard <3

Anonymous said: HI BEE! I ALSO VOTED TODAY! IM 21 SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME VOTING FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION (my 18th bday didnt make the cutoff since im a december bday) im so happy to have done my part! I made sure to study up on the judges and policies and everything! Luckily the polling place didn't have a line so i was able to get in, get my ballot, and fill it in right away! I even dragged my mom and cousin to come with me. I made a joke on snapchat to encourage my friends to vote too. It was a pic of my "i voted" sticker with a caption saying "omg youre so sexy when you vote aHaha" -🦙

Anonymous said: this is my first time doing this so, so i hope i’m sending this correctly! i voted early in late september by mail! i live in a swing state, so it’s really important for me to vote and not waste time!! bc of my age, this is my first time voting so i’m really nervous 😅

Anonymous said: I voted by email! I'm overseas so I wasn't sure if my ballot would actually make it through in time, so I decided to go electronically. Had to sign a waiver saying I understand that my vote won't be anonymous but I haven't been given a reason to suspect voter suppression/fraud in my state, so I'm happy I think...!

Anonymous said: hi, i voted early on oct 24th. my absentee ballot didn't come in, so i had to travel back home to vote (~3 hour drive). when we got there, there was a ton of people outside the polling place, but no lines, so i was in and out pretty quick. it was my first time voting, so i had all the candidates i was voting for written down on a tiny receipt so i wouldn't forget 😅. my mom was with me, so she voted too. took a pic with my sticker (mask on for extra covid-ness) and went home. drove back the next afternoon!

whippedforkook said: Hi Bee. 💕 I voted in early October - nearly a month ago! 😱 It’s been really weird with all the lead up to the election because it felt like it should have been done once I cast my ballot! A lot of my friends have volunteered to get out the vote: writing postcards to voters, texting, phone banking, working the polls, curing ballots. I didn’t volunteer at all this year, but I hope that all of my friends’ hard work and everyone else’s is enough. I’m also hoping and praying that I will be in a better place mentally for 2022 so that I too can volunteer. Our work starts with 2020 not ends. 💕 Wishing you well. 💕

begineuphoria said: I went and voted last Friday as it was our last early voting day. No way was I going to wait until today with the crowds of people in my area that still act as if masks are somehow infringing on their rights. 🙄 It was a rather normal experience for the most part. Other than having to use a coffee stir stick to press the buttons on the machine to vote. In and out within five minutes.

Anonymous said: I voted down the street at this pretty park this morning. I got up at 5:30 and it was freezing. Luckily I wore like 30 layers and stood outside for 2 hours. Some nasty orange man supporters were rude but everyone else was pretty nice. A really cute older couple was playing soccer with pine cones and kicked it towards me to play too. Not the worst time tbh.

Anonymous said: Did mail-in voting in California! Extremely exhausting and took forever to research all the propositions - they are notoriously tricky in hiding their flaws and one side tends to outrageously outspend the other. But in the end I felt really good about my research and decisions! No need for you to post a snippet for this story - would like to save that to read sometime in the future ;) Thank you so much for doing this!

joonsgotthejuice said: Votes for void??? I am here! I went last Thursday and it was chaotic bc I kept going past the poll place but the line was soooo long so my mom called me and woke me up like "its pouring rain and the line is super short get up I'm gonna pick you up" so thats the story of how I got dressed in 5 minutes and dragged my ass to vote in the rain <3

Anonymous said: i voted early on thursday it was cold and rainy but i went in the late afternoon and thankfully the only waiting i did was a few minutes for an elevator i got very lucky and while waiting for the results is awful the relief that came from voting in general was just great

Anonymous said: Wheeew the polls just closed and I finally got to cast my ballot yayyy ( I was the one working the polls from earlier) it’s been a really really long day and we actually had surprisingly good turnout. I saw a woman try to vote for someone else who claimed to be “helping” and I saw a woman who I’m pretty sure was on some typa something 👀 Overall though I really I’m really thankful for people like you who encouraged people to get out and vote. I hope the odds are in our favor❤️🤞🏼

chelsea-chee said: Hello Bee! Today surprisingly my elderly father wanted to vote so I brought him out with me. He only cared about voting for Biden, which meant I got to help decide who he should vote for with the rest of the candidates and amendments! Say hello to baby bee for me as well! 💖

Anonymous said: Okay I gonna got a chance to vote today and the process wasn’t that bad actually. I went in just now and it wasn’t that busy( thankfully) so no lines. I’m from Texas and it’s gonna be almost impossible to turn this state blue, but every vote counts! I love that you are getting people to vote and also sharing your experiences as well!

owl-orgy said: Dropped off my mail in ballot at a polling location! I originally wanted to vote early in person because I was worried my signature wouldn’t match closely enough but ended up just turning it in and double checked today to make it said “ballot accepted and counted”!

Anonymous said: I voted in person this afternoon, better late than never I guess. I was gonna go last week but then I got cramps from hell. There was no one in line in front of me, I think my county early voted because it was packed everyday the last few weeks

Anonymous said: I voted early a couple weeks ago. Exciting thing though that did happen was I got both my parents to vote for their first time ever.

Anonymous said: I had a mail in vote. So, I filled it out and dropped it in at the ballot box at my library. (I also checked out books for the first time in years, so I had fun!)

bubblyjiminnie said: I literally just finished voting. Lucky for me, the line and wait wasn’t very long, and it was a nice enough day that the short amount of time I had to spend in line outside of the building wasn’t too bad. My social anxiety when it comes to stuff like this tends to be high but that’s what I get for waiting until Election Day instead of going the mail in route. This was only my second time voting, but I’m glad that I did 😊

Anonymous said: I turned my ballot in last week :) I’m not a big fan of crowds and I hate make spur of the moment choices but despite that the first time I was able to vote back in 08 my Mom pressured me into voting in person because “you’d have to experience it at least once in our life”. And ever since then I comfortably vote by mail. I take my time, do all of my research, listen to music, and best of all don’t have to deal with people.

Anonymous said: here in Washington state it’s super easy to vote. I dropped my ballot off in mid-October and it’s already been accounted for! Mail in voting and drop box voting is fantastic and provides equal opportunity and access. Sad to see some people in red states misinforming Americans about it! We also have a referendum for implementing mandatory sex ed, including teaching respect, empathy and consent as part of the curriculum so I was happy to vote yes on that too!

unionrox006 said: I voted about 2 weeks ago by doing a mail in ballot. The other eligible to vote members of my household did the same. We chose to vote by absentee ballot because both my mom and I have an autoimmune disorder, so we have to be careful going out in the pandemic. Tbh, the ballot layout was a bit confusing at first as was all the paperwork and required IDs and documents. But my dad explained it to me and we got them filled out and mailed off. Kinda mad I didn't get a sticker for it though

bluetostone said: Love this and so excited for the next chp of void! I early voted a few weeks ago and because I live in a pretty rural county I was in and out of my polling place in a few minutes. No sticker though 😢. I live in a swing state so it could go either way in terms of delegates. Just praying everyone is safe tonight as the results roll in...though, won't we not know for sure for a couple of days or weeks?

Anonymous said: My mom, sister, and I received our early voting ballots a while ago and I took the longest to fill mine out because it was making me anxious :,( but I did return it before it was due. I checked our ballot statuses and mine and my moms were accepted but my sister’s said they hadn’t received hers back. Then she got another ballot so she filled that one out too and I took it yesterday 👍👍 I think she got two because she changed her address late so they sent two?

vixsynsblog said: Non-interesting voter story: I'm paranoid and live in a highly divided area, so I filed mail-in ASAP, mailed it a few days after cause neighbors are nosy and don't understand boundaries. Was able to track my ballot through my credit company, which was nice. Only thing I was missing was my sticker. Never got one✊😔. So I had to improvise and write it in pen on my disposable mask. I'm working all this week so if riots break out from either side, I'll be at work. Prayers for the safety of others🙏

______

Waaah!!! Thank you all for voting!! You are all my heroes. I am so grateful and proud of you. I’m sorry I ran out of time to respond to you individually. I’m going to drop two big scenes from Chapter 7 in gratitude (one of which will be familiar to my patrons and one won’t). I’m hopeful I will have the whole next chapter out very soon. Love you all!

Void spoilers below the cut.

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think they were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps just by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There is a calendar reminder waiting for you: Today is chili pepper pollinating day. At least this gives you an excuse to talk to Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee up against his chest. Hoseok doesn’t look well. He’s got dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…“You don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed. “Um, was I? Yeah.. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t. “I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit to rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disgaree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if they didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Your chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The intital set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant in the line.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than just enjoying the chili peppers, you must admit that this was one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands peridically. Always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Um, yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off my Hoseok’s derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, just go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone of us ever treating you that way. And now you just want all of us to… to… use you like that?” He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan! I’m in charge!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.”

______

Taehyung finds you in the gym. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey, so I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.” He fishes awkwardly into his pockets and pulls out his tablet. Maybe Jimin was right. Is Taehyung going to be the first to take you up on your offer?

You pause your jog on the elliptical machine. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man with those strong eyebrows and that perfect skin.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has really nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigating the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It just adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing that Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he just going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know its a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

That surprises Taehyung. He puts down the tablet. “What? Why would he want that?”

This is awkward. “He, um, thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is just as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us…”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

If Taehyung isn’t jealous of Jimin...

“Taehyung…” He looks up, biting his lip. “What did you mean? Who are you jealous of?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he reaches for his microphone and mutes it. Out of respect, you mute yours as well. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter. But he’s already stripping out of his shirt. The musculature of his back ripples. He hangs the shirt off of the camera to block the rest of the room from view.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” His chest is just as attractive as his back and you flush at the sight of it. Mercifully, he zips back into his jumpsuit as he returns to his position in front of the exercise machine.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?”

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole save the mission with bonobo sex plan.”

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

“You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve just ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.” There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us really knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…”

Your mind flashes back to that moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

“But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really do love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels like that about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.” You wonder if maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”

Taehyung bites his lip. He can’t really argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “He wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You know you could have that with any man on this ship right?”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

The two of you both slump backwards in your seats, mulling over your shared woes. Taehyung bends down and picks up the tablet again. “So what should I do with this?”

“Obivously, you don’t have to sign it. I should have realized that not everyone would be interested.”

“Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?”

“Yeah…”

“Is it okay if we let him think that for now? At least until I figure out how to tell him the truth?”

“Okay.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. Your phone lights up with a message. “Thank you,” he murmurs before he leaves.

#I'm not going to answer asks about the spoilers right now #because I want people to be able to avoid them until the chapter drops #but that should be sometime in the next week or so #votes for void

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