#it’s not even funny how much I’ve been angsting about it

[redrose10]

I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.

…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.

I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!

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Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi

Word count: 3,702

(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)

When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.

Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.

And then he met you…

When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.

He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.

Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.

When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.

Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.

Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.

Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.

The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.

And how much he talked about you outside of work.

“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.

“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”

“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”

“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.

“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.

Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.

Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.

When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,

“Who is this?”

“That’s Lebron James.”

“Is he any good?”

“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”

“Okay and what team does he play for?”

You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”

Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.

Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.

Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…

Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.

When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.

“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”

Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.

“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.

“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.

But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.

Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.

He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.

He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.

He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.

He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.

You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.

Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.

You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.

You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.

“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”

He shakes his head.

“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”

“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.

“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”

“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.

Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.

Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.

Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.

“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.

“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”

Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”

He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”

He felt his heart skip.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.

“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”

Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.

“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”

Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.

You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”

Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.

You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”

Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.

“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”

Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.

“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.

“How did you do it?”

He look at you confused.

“How did you heal yourself?”

Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.

“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”

Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.

This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.

Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.

“Hey Y/N…”

Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.

“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”

Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.

“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”

“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.

“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.

You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”

“Y/N”

“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”

“Y/N”

“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”

“Y/N”

“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”

Y/N!”

Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.

“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”

You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.

“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”

He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”

“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.

“I would be happy to”

[talonsandtails]

… holy crap, this one was beyond difficult. I estimate it to have taken about a full 12 hours. I fully sketched and erased it no less then three times, the pose was super difficult. The main issue was figuring out how to make sure Uzi’s torso wasn’t too long, without flashing her non-existent robot butt. Her design was another challenge entirely. Murder drones is a very darkly lit, fast paced show, and in practice it looks amazing. When trying to draw its characters tho… it’s a nightmare. Solver Uzi, as far as I know, doesn’t have an official ref sheet. Her tail was the worst part. As far as I know there aren’t any good frames showing the entire thing in good clear lighting, and the ones I could find that were coherent enough… all I have to ask is, Liam, who hurt you? I swear that tail is more complicated than the entire cast combined. I only vaguely tried to draw it accurately and I do not at all feel guilty for that.

Also, probably no one does but if you notice, yes, I used a different artstyle than I usually do here. I wasn’t happy with how my style translated into Murder Drones, so for my MD art specifically I’ve come up with an entirely new one.

And on an end note, no I am not at all okay about this show ending, thanks.

[suosgirl]

Helloooo! I was wondering if you are taking requests for Wind Breaker?

If yes, can I ask for a story or headcanons about Suo meeting and getting curious (and eventually falling for) a f.reader who is like a princess for Shishitoren?

In my head it would be funny to see Suo challenging and interacting with Choji and Togame (who are already threatening Suo to stay away from the reader). I mean, he can be kind of mean when he wants, and still wear a smile.😆

Thanks for hearing me out!

And let me say, I realllyyyy love the way you write!🩷

Shishitoren's Princess (& Her Guard Dog) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 7471

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Shishitoren (literally most of them), Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama, Mitsuki Kiryu, Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nire

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst, harassment, swearing, kissing, miscommunication – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: oh my goodness – I'm actually so sorry for how this took me (and how long this is ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა). I loved loved loved this idea so much, and thank you for the sweetest words! I really hope this is somewhere in the ballpark of what you were requesting! Thank you again for the amazing idea! I love you!

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

Pretty, perfect, caring adorable you. With a smile that could heal any scratch and a heart that seemed to never run empty. You were the pride and joy of Shishitoren – their mascot in every sense. 

You knew everyone by name. If someone asked, you could name at least 5 things about each person from the top of your head. You could name their allergies, their likes and dislikes, and even their interests – all because you listened to them.

You were attentive and warm – quick to lend an ear if someone was having a bad day or offer advice if they asked.

And it was scary how well you could tell if they were in the dumps – it becomes a running joke that you have some kind of emotional superpower when it comes to them. It takes just one look, one look before you’re bringing them to a secluded corner and asking them if they’ve got something weighing on their minds.

You knew their personalities, knew their stories, knew their hearts. 

The only time anyone avoided you was when they knew they did something wrong – because they knew you’d be pulling them by the ear and scolding them. And, as much as some of them wanted to get mad, they just couldn’t bring themselves to – because having someone care for them so fiercely was a feeling that not many of them had ever experienced, and from the bottom of your heart you truly cared.

After every fight, they knew you’d be the one to patch them up. Bofurin had the townspeople, sure, but Shishitoren had you. You, who would set up tables in the Ori with every inch of space taken up by ointments, antiseptic spray, gauze – the works. Whatever injury they had, as long as not severe, was taken care of by you. 

If it was serious and required hospital attention, you were the one bringing them there – eyes sharp and tongue at the ready to yell at anyone who dared to treat them differently or deny services.

And these boys … they had the utmost respect for you. You, who had nothing but love to give, never expected a single thing back. You cared for them, genuinely, and saw them as your own brothers to fuss over and worry about and love. 

You were family – and honestly, Togame and Tomiyama were just glad to have met you after their fight with Bofurin. 

You’d moved to this side of town just a little after the whole thing, and when you’d gotten lost in the dark alleys with your phone on 1% and tears in your eyes, it was Tomiyama who walked you home. He’d talked your ear off the whole way, of course, but he was surprised at how you were able to keep up with him. You were actively responding to him, asking questions, keeping the conversation going – and Tomiyama liked that. 

And when you’re delivered safely to your front door, you ask if you can exchange contact info. His eyes light up, and he’s quickly saying yes and that he’d love to hang out with you again.

He doesn’t expect you to reach out to him the next day though, asking if you can give him a thank-you present for going out of his way the day before. 

And when you show up to the Ori, with a bag of assorted goodies in your hands, you’re met with more men than you could count, all with eyes staring wide at you.

They expect you to run away, honestly, because they know what they look like. They know that you’re probably a sweet girl, sure, but they were a gang – plain and simple. A gang working on reform, sure, but a gang nonetheless. So, if you were to drop your little goodie bag in fear and run for your life, well, it would probably be the most appropriate response.

Instead, what you do is gasp, point an accusatory finger at Tomiyama, and exclaim, “WHY didn’t you tell me that there would be more people here?”

You quickly hand him the bag, muttering out an “I’ll be back”, and in less than 30 minutes you’ve got your hands full with 5 more bags, packed to the brim with even more snacks.

With Togame, it takes just a little bit longer for him to warm up to you. Not that he doesn’t already like you – it’s just that he’s, well, a bit more reserved and a bit more quiet and observing (a lot more quiet if we’re comparing him to Tomiyama). 

It’s when, during a fleeting conversation, he mentions that he plays Go with the elderly men at the public bath – and he watches you perk up at his words. Immediately, you’re asking if it would be alright to play with him sometime, and while he’s hesitant, he ultimately says yes at the sight of your bright eyes and wide smile.

He admits that he thinks you’re just bluffing, until you actually plan a day to play, and now you’ve got him thinking that maybe you’re good? Maybe, you’re a secret Go prodigy or something? Maybe you’ve got a secret or two up your sleeve and –

He wipes the floor with you. Absolutely demolishes you. But you’re happy about it, laughing at the result, and he’s confused because you didn’t win? Did you … did you know how board games work?

You’re quick to tell him that you enjoyed it because you got to spend time with him, got to know who he is as a person because of how he played. 

You leave him standing on the street, a bottle of Ramune long forgotten in his hand (his prize for winning) and his mouth open in surprise.

And when you notice he’s not next to you anymore, you turn around with a smile on your face as you ask, “Don’t you feel that you know me a little bit better too?”

Yeah, they were glad that you got to see them as they were now, with hopes and dreams and emotions. They don’t dwell on the idea of you meeting them before then – they don’t want to. Because if they thought about it too long, they’d have their answer.

You deserved to be happy and healthy and protected. You, who filled a hole in Shishitoren that they didn’t even know existed. 

And now you were an irreplaceable part of their lives, so precious and so important that they began to understand Bofurin. They had you – someone that they would do anything in their power to protect – to keep safe from harm.

You were Shishitoren’s Princess.

After that, Tomiyama and Togame were stuck to you like glue. Always thinking about you, always concerned, always wondering where you were. 

You’re running late and they haven’t got a text letting them know why? They’re out on the streets, danger flashing in their eyes and prepared for the worst. However, when they see that you’ve been distracted by a stray cat on the road, all they do is let out a laugh and join your side. 

They hear you sniffling and see that your eyes are shining with tears? They’re immediately on you, asking who did this to you, with a promise to make them pay for it tenfold. “You can’t really beat up allergies,” you laugh, before sneezing into a tissue. Immediately, the Shishitoren boys are rounded up, their eyes focused and determined – to get you allergy medicine.

You were everything good in the world, bottled up into someone who could make even the rainiest days seem a bit more brighter and the hardest challenges a bit more bearable – and they didn’t want anyone infringing on their happiness.

So when Hayato Suo, from Bofurin, comes across you one fateful day – they’re absolutely livid. 

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

And honestly, you loved them, you did, but the way that they treated you like a delicate little flower sometimes felt a bit too stuffy.

What? Did they think you just patched people up for fun? That you knew how to medically treat someone just short of a nurse because it was your hobby?

You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize where the directions on your phone are taking you until you’ve already passed the train crossing border that connects Bofurin’s and Shishitoren’s territory. You’re spit out onto a street that you’ve never seen before, but you shrug it off.

When you find the corner store, you make quick work of your shopping list, even grabbing some items for yourself, before you’re out the door.

It’s when you’ve barely taken a few steps down the street that you feel it – the staring on the back of your head.

While you were in the store, you’d felt their eyes on you, but you’d ignored it, hoping that it was just a fleeting moment of curiosity. Now, you see that it was the eyes of a predator stalking their prey.

You pause, before quickly taking out your phone and sending a quick text to Togame and Tomiyama – they just need one small clue and they can fill in the rest – so you send your location. 

And when you finally turn to face your stalker, you snap a photo of their face. For insurance, you assure yourself. Just in case. 

He’s taller than you, with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. You feel uneasy at his presence, and you look up and down the street to see that no one’s around.

Damnit damnit damnit. 

“You’re really pretty, totally my type. Could I get your contact information?” he’s asking, but the tone that he’s saying it in doesn’t leave any room for objection.

“No,” you reply, simple and straight to the point. Then, you stay standing there, and you wait. 

“Never turn your back on an enemy.”

Togame had said this briefly, once, while the both of you were watching everyone spar.

When the man takes a step forward, you take one back, maintaining the distance between you and him.

“Oh come on – it’s just your number. Don’t make this such a big deal.”

He’s holding himself back and you can see it. You can see the way his hands are twitching by his sides now and the way his breathing is starting to speed up.

“Always keep an eye on your opponent~! You wouldn’t wanna miss anything!”

Tomiyama’s words run through your mind next, and you will yourself to maintain your facade.

You’re starting to get just the slightest bit worried now, though. It really shouldn’t be too much longer, you think. Any minute now. 

But a minute passes by, Togame and Choji aren’t here, and the guy’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that it’s starting to throb.

“Please – leave me alone!” you yell out, but it’s going through one ear and out the other. He’s smiling down, dark and sinister, and it’s then that you remember something so crucial that you can’t believe you forgot it.

“Kick them, um, down there. It’ll hurt, a lot. But that’s a last resort type of move, alright princess?”

Those self-defense lessons are paying off, Togame. 

You make a mental note to thank him when he gets here.

You kick the man, hard, and when he releases your arm you step back as fast as you can, but – 

The plastic bag you had once held in your hand, now filled with the sloshing liquid and the broken glass of Togame’s Ramune bottle, causes you to slip.

Your hands shoot out and you close your eyes in anticipation of the fall that never comes because strong, warm arms are holding you up.

You let out a sigh of relief – finally. You’re brought to stand, but before those hands can leave your body, you’re swiftly grabbing them to wrap around your waist and leaning your head on their chest.

“Geez, took you guys long enough –”

The sight of a black jacket cuts you off. Black, with green embroidery.

You quickly push yourself off, eyes wide and cheeks red because you had just initiated a very intimate hug with someone who was a complete stranger.

“I-I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh – I thought you were someone else!” you blurt out, hands covering your mouth – and he looks as caught off guard as you are.

His eye is wide, mouth open just the tiniest bit, and – he’s cute.

“Wow, I don’t get thanked like that too often,” he smiles, and you’re mortified at his playful reaction.

“I –,” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder, quickly cutting you off.

You look up at him, and the smile’s still there, but it’s different now – it’s frightening.

“Would you mind stepping to the side for me? It seems some people just don’t know when to quit.”

You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re quickly brought back to the situation at hand. Nodding, you get out of his way, and it’s as soon as you step past him that you hear a sickening thud and a groan of pain.

When you turn, you’re relieved to see that the man who’d been harassing you is on the ground, and if you were to guess, probably out cold.

“Wow… You made quick work of him,” you don’t try to hide the awe in your voice and Suo finds it both endearing and concerning that you’re praising him.

Concerning mainly because, well, you don’t seem to be the type to leisurely enjoy street fights. 

And now you’re right in front of him, inspecting his face and body to make sure there aren’t any cuts that need to be treated or any injuries that need tending.

It’s second nature at this point — ingrained in your body and soul.

Cute, he thinks, very cute that she thinks he touched me.

“Do you see anything wrong, love?” he jests, enjoying the way you’re so diligently scanning him from head to toe.

“No, I don’t think—”

You are, once again, mortified by his teasing. No one at Shishitoren spoke to you like this, and sure they called you Princess, but to you, it held the same value as sister or friend.

“S-sorry, force of habit… ah, thank you for saving me! I sent my friends a message but —”

You’re cut off by the sounds of two distinct voices yelling "Princess", and Suo’s quick to prepare himself for another fight.

However, when he sees Togame and Tomiyama run around the corner with panic in their eyes and desperation in their voices, he’s just confused.

And when they spot the two of you, with an unconscious body on the ground, it gets even more confusing. Because why are they walking over here and why do they have scowls on their face and —

“Princess, what were you thinking?”

Tomiyama and Togame are all over you, Togame’s hand gently grasping your chin to move your face from side to side, and Tomiyama’s got his hand on your wrist, softly thumbing at the bruised skin.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Suo’s observing all of this, and he’s trying to rack his brain for any information about you. God, he really wished Nirei was here right now.

He’s never heard that name before or seen your face, so this must be a recent development. But with the way they’re fretting over you, you’d think that you’d all been childhood friends or something because the way that they’re worrying over you is definitely not normal.

You try to push their hands away from you, embarrassed that you have an audience, but they don’t let up so all you’re able to do is grumble and huff as they inspect you from head to toe.

“... He hurt you,” Tomiyama whispers, and you grab his wrist before he starts stalking toward the body on the floor.

“It’s okay um – oh, I don’t know your name, but he helped me out! Everything’s fine – really! Please, let’s calm down,” you plead, and all it takes is one look at your anxious face for the both of them to ease up.

Now, Suo really wants to understand.

“Suo … thanks for protecting her. This idiot didn’t tell us she was crossing over into your territory. It’s our fault, sorry,” Togame explains, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other draped over your shoulders.

Suo takes a moment to respond. Who would he be, after all, if not an instigator?

Because — who were you? You – who could turn the Shishitoren leader and his second in command into mere puppies with your sweet voice. You — who had them running like their lives depended on it. 

“Ah, I’d save a sweet girl like her any day,” Suo says, testing the waters, and he gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.

Togame and Tomiyama stiffen up beside you, as you gasp in surprise at his words. 

And suddenly, there’s a shift in the air – and it’s deadly.

You sense it, of course, because who wouldn’t be able to feel the heightened electricity and the low hum of buzzing coming from Togame’s and Tomiyama’s chests?

And you, ever the de-escalating expert, quickly blurt out, “Ah, wait! I need to go back to the store! Give me like 5 minutes!”

Before they can get a “no” out, you’re already out of their grasp and beelining it for the convenience store.

It’s silent for a moment, with just Suo, Tomiyama, and Togame looking at one another.

Finally, Togame breaks the silence.

“Look, Sakura’s a friend –”

“And Ume-chan too!” Tomiyama chimes in.

 “ – and I hope we’re not stepping on your toes here but don’t get any ideas.”

Suo knows he should stop. He should probably apologize, and let them know it’s not what they think. That they’ve got it all wrong. But … he really can’t help it – not with the way that they’re hissing at him like cats. It’s adorable – and you’re adorable.

He was never really good with holding back his tongue, anyway.

“I think she can make her own decisions, don’t you?”

Togame and Tomiyama do not take kindly to his words, and so it begins – a passive-aggressive verbal war.

“Ha, right. It’s been fun, eye-patch-kun, but we really oughta take her back home. You know, so that we can patch her up,” Togame says, and though there's a smile on his face, Suo understands the underlying message behind his words.

She got hurt in your territory, under your patrol.

Suo smiles back at him.

“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t quick enough to save her, but I’m glad I was able to sort this out before things got out of hand,” Suo replies.

All you guys do is blow things up out of proportion – with violence.

“If we’d been here, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”

“Hm. But you probably would’ve gone overboard.”

“Watch it –”

“Ah, sorry!”

It’s when Tomiyama finally opens his mouth that Suo realizes he’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and when they make eye contact, Suo’s smile deepens – because Tomiyama looked like he was ready to maul Suo into pieces, like a true Lion.

“Ume-chan and Furin are our friends,” he says, eyes darkening with every word, “but she’s our family – I think it’s best if you stand down.”

It’s at that moment that you come racing back towards them, your hands full of goodies and a grin on your face as you exclaim, “I got it! I got it!”

You hand Togame his Ramune, Tomiyama his snack, and … you hand Suo bottled tea.

“Sorry, um, I wasn’t too sure what you liked – but this is my favorite drink! Ah, um, if you don’t like it … Suo … I won’t be hurt. But you strike me as a tea lover so –”

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands wringing behind your back as you ramble and Suo can’t help the sweet smile and the small laugh that escapes his lips before thanking you.

And as soon as he’s done, you’re being whisked away back to your territory – back to your home.

As you walk through the passing, with Tomiyama’s arm intertwined with yours and Togame’s arm draped over your shoulders, you briefly turn around, just to catch one more glance of Suo.

He’s standing there, smiling as he raises his hand to wave at you. You smile back at him with a glossy look in your eyes before Togame softly flicks your forehead.

Your attention is on Togame now, pouty and dejected, before turning your head indignantly as you begin to lecture him about how you’re supposed to thank someone when they help you, and that it’s the nice thing to do.

In the heat of your lecture, you miss the way that Tomiyama and Togame also turn back to look at Suo.

In the darkness of the tunnel, Suo swears he can see their eyes glinting, and his smile only deepens. 

Their eyes, daring and territorial, only say one thing.

Ours. Ours. Ours. 

He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting this turn of events but he was intrigued now. 

And, it’s only after the three of you disappear that he realizes he never learned your name – your real name.

So, when he volunteers to take over the patrol where the Furin territory ends and the Shishitoren territory starts, who can blame him?

What Suo doesn’t know, though, is that after this little incident, you’re permanently banned from walking alone ever again.

(Of course, you’re not actually banned. But, you are given a scolding afterward – which, in your eyes, is rich coming from Togame and Tomiyama, but sure, whatever.)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The next time Suo sees you, it’s when he least expects it. 

You’re in Bofurin territory, with a small first-aid kit on your lap as you tend to the child in front of you. You’re smiling at the sniffling little boy as you wrap some gauze around his ankle, your fingers adept and swift, as if you’d done this countless times before.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re so strong!”

You ask him how it feels, and the little boy beams up at you, the tears in his eyes long gone and instead replaced with immense gratitude.

You smile down at him, playfully scolding him to be more careful as you pat his head softly.

And then Suo sees you hand him a lollipop — a lollipop — and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

So, really, can you blame him for sneaking up behind you and whispering into your ear?

“What brings you to Bofurin territory, princess?”

You yelp in surprise, before turning around so fast that Suo worries if you gave yourself whiplash.

Once your blush has gone down and the surprise of seeing him wears off, you explain that you’re here to get some bread for Tomiyama from the Cactus bakery.

He’d been saying that he wanted fresh bread, but there weren’t any in Shishitoren that you knew of. And as soon as he mentioned the Cactus’s Anpan over on Bofurin's side of the tunnel, well, who could blame you for taking that opportunity to not only do something for him but also for yourself?

Which, of course, was to hopefully run into Suo.

“He sent you all the way over here to pick up bread for him?”

“Hm? No, of course not. This is a surprise for him!”

“I see – I was wondering why you didn’t have your guard dogs around…”

“My guard dogs?”

“Oh!” you laugh and Suo thinks it’s the most pleasant sound he’s heard in his life.

“You mean Tomiyama and Togame? No, they don’t know I’m here. It wouldn’t really be a surprise if they knew, right?”

Suo’s starting to see it now – why they care for you so much. But he wants to know more, so he asks about the kid you were tending to.

“Ah — I saw him playing with some kids and he took a nasty fall. I didn’t think it was right to let him go home without care, so I patched him up. I hope that’s okay?”

Suo finds that he really likes talking to you. He likes how expressive you are, how kind you are, and how thoughtful you are. And he finally learns your name. He likes that about you too – it’s cute.

So, naturally, he offers to escort you to Cactus – purely just to keep an eye on you, he convinces himself.

And when he escorts you back to the border, all your goodies in one hand and his arm in the other, well – 

He doesn’t care enough to find justification for his actions. He just really liked you – plain and simple.

When you let go of his arm, he’s already grieving the feeling of your body pressed to his side. 

You were warm, soft, and he’s sure that if he ever got the chance to taste your lips, sweet.

“Let’s exchange contact information! That way, you can be my guard dog when I’m here,” you say as you pull out your phone, and Suo’s so so glad that he ran into you today.

When he adds your contact to his phone, he puts you down as Princess.

When you add his contact to yours, you put him down as Guard Dog. 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

After that, you and Suo try to meet up. But… well…

You don’t see the point in trying to hide it. You were, after all, your own person. You could think for yourself, make decisions for yourself, and speak up for yourself. You were so open to loving and the Shishitoren boys knew this – so why should you hide it?

And when you had something on your mind, you were determined to make it happen. So, you don’t see why it would be any different with Suo. You had met him twice now, and you wanted to keep seeing him. To keep talking to him. To maybe even date him.

But to Shishitoren, this was equivalent to losing you – and they could never let that happen.

So Shishitoren never lets you see him – and it’s not like they’re barricading you inside the Ori or blocking the entrance to the border (though, they’ll admit that the thoughts crossed their mind in one way or the other).

No. They do it in a way that they know will make you stay with them – by acting like big babies.

The first to fall was Arima – 

You’re about to leave to meet up with Suo when Arima runs into the Ori, cries of pain leaving his lips as he whines at how much it hurts. You drop your bag immediately, texting Suo a panicked text about how something came up and that you’re sorry but you’ve gotta cancel today. 

You have Arima sit down, all your supplies laid out next to you as you ask him what happened and – 

It’s a paper cut.

But he’s babbling about how deep it is and how much it stings and it takes forever to just disinfect it and wrap a bandage around it before you realize that half the day’s just flew by for a minor injury.

Second was Kanuma – when he got a bad haircut.

Third was Sako – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, began asking you for advice about how you would approach someone who you used to look up to but lost respect for, who you vowed to fight and win against, only to lose against them and have them apologize to you (you, obviously, struggled with what advice you could even give him).

Fourth was Tomiyama – when he lost his favorite pair of sneakers.

Fifth was Togame – when he lost an eating challenge for the first time.

“It’s for the good of Shishitoren,” they say as they prepare the next victim.

Eventually, you find yourself tending to almost all of Shishitoren’s wounds, whether physical or emotional, and you just can’t believe that they’re fighting against you and Suo so hard.

But, in between all of that, you and Suo still manage to sneak in hushed phone calls and sweet texts.

Always asking about how the other’s doing, always talking about how your day went. He looks forward to it, he realizes, laying in bed as he hears you start to slur the ends of your words, drifting off into sleep.

And you send him photos all the time – it could be of a cat you came across while on the way to the Ori, or a drink that you tried that you liked – and with each text, with each phone call, Suo finds himself becoming smitten with you. 

You, who would remind him to drink water and to at least eat something small to get through the day. You, who had perfect memory and would follow up with the things that he’d talked about days ago, just because you were interested and curious (he’d mentioned that there was a tea spot that he frequented in Makochi, and it only took a day or two later for you to bring it up again, this time with all sorts of questions and comments like “I looked at what they serve! Which one’s your favorite?” and “I’d love to go there with you sometime, Suo – if I ever get the chance”. He’d only said the name of this tea shop once, but you remembered). 

And sweet, kind, loving you – who seemed to know whenever he had a particularly tough day. You were so attentive to him, which was surprising because all your interactions were never in person, but it seemed that you could understand his mood just based on the extra second it took for him to answer the phone or the way he responded to your text. And the thing was that Suo was great at masking his emotions – an expert, even. But you, who could just sense these things about other people, were giving him the chance to open up if he so chose to. You never pressed, never battered him for an answer. Just a simple – “I feel like there’s something on your mind, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay! Just know that if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be there for you Suo.”

And, above all, you never stop trying. You never stop trying to escape the clutches of Shishitoren to see him – though you apologize every time your plans get thwarted as if you both weren’t expecting the same outcome.

But Suo doesn’t see you again, for months – not until a huge fight breaks out, and you’re honestly the last one he expects to see rushing onto the aftermath of the battlefield with a backpack filled to the brim with medical supplies and a determined look on your face.

They didn’t know Shishitoren was going to get involved and fight alongside them, didn’t know that the aftermath was going to be this bad. But if Suo had known that you’d be running to meet everyone afterwards, well – 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

He sees you a mile away, and he’s so relieved that you’re not hurt. That you’re up and moving. That you’re here. But he’s also surprised and caught off guard because – why were you here?

It’s then that he sees your bag, sees the way that you’ve got your hair up and out of your face, and the way that you’re scanning everyone up and down so fast that your eyes never stop moving. 

My little nurse, Suo thinks, rushing to the injured like the sweet princess she is.

Little did you know that as he was fighting, there were only 3 things revolving through his mind – Bofurin, Makochi, and you. He fought to protect those 3 things that were so very dear to his heart, and to be greeted with the sight of you after winning? Well, it couldn’t be anything less but a sign of his hard work. A reward, if you will.

He sees you run up to Umemiya, serious and purposeful, as you open your mouth and wait for a response. Umemiya, though very confused, gives you an answer that you seem satisfied with because you nod, then thank him, and now you’re running towards Suo, and you make eye contact, and he can’t wait for you to dote after him and take care of him and – 

You smile at him, scan his body, nod –  and walk right past him. You never stopped for him, actually. You just kept moving. Just kept walking.

And Suo just watches – he watches as you make your way over to where Shishitoren is laid out, watches as they all let out a sigh of relief when they see you safe and unharmed, watches as they start talking animatedly to you as you start setting up for aid.

And you’re standing there with a pained look in your eyes as you nod at their words halfheartedly, more focused on the injuries that they’re sporting on their bodies than the words coming out of their mouths. You’re going from person to person as fast as you can, and although Suo can’t hear you, he can read your lips as you tell every single person – “I’m here now. It’s okay. Thank you for fighting. I’ll take care of you.”

He watches as you get to Tomiyama and Togame, and sees the way your eyes start to water as they pat your head and tell you that they’re fine – even though you have eyes, you can see how hard they’ve fought. Instead, they’re fondly thanking you for coming all this way just to take care of them.

And suddenly, everything got a bit too real for Suo. A bit too scary.

Because he didn’t realize how hard he’d fallen for you, in between those two fateful meetings, the constant late-night phone calls, and the never-ending texts.

It hits Suo like a train. He wanted to be the one that you search for in the crowd. He wanted to be the one that you’re fussing over. He wanted you to patch him up. He wanted you.

He was in love with you.

And he shuts down – completely.

He goes silent, uncharacteristically so, to the point that Sakura and Nirei are starting to get worried.

“What’s wrong, Suo-san?”

“Suo, what’s the matter with you?”

It goes through one ear and out the other – no response, no indication that he’s even present at the moment.

It’s when you’re patching up the last member of Shishitoren that you feel the heat of an eye on you – and your body reacts before your mind can.

Suo’s name is the only thing running through your mind as you finish up as fast as you can – and you’re off.

You’re making your way to where all of Bofurin is sitting, just barely slipping out of the grasps of the Shishitoren boys.

It’s Togame, with his long limbs, who reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder and it’s Tomiyama, with his fast reflexes, who has your hand in his.

“Princess, no–”

“Let me find Suo.”

“But you don’t even –”

“Choji, Jo – let me go.”

They hesitate. You’d never spoken to them like this before. Never used their first names before. Never been so cold before.

But they weren’t fools. Even if you tried to hide it, they’d seen the way you sneaked off to talk to him or the way you thought you were hiding your phone when you were responding to him. Anytime they’d bring something up that had even an inkling to do with Suo, you were excitedly adding in your input – all while stumbling over your words as you tried to be mysterious. 

(They’d done a test, actually. All they did was bring up the word tea and you were fighting for your life as you kept accidentally saying Suo’s name when talking about your friend. 

“Ah, Su– AH, I mean, my friend really likes this type of tea.”

“Oh! That’s S– my friend's favorite place in Makochi!”

They didn’t have the heart to tell you because, well – you really sucked at lying.)

And they realize, with heavy hearts, that you were never theirs to lock up in the Ori. You were so kind, so lovable, so sweet, because that’s just who you are as a person. 

You were protected, sure, and healthy, sure, but you weren’t happy.

You, who were the embodiment of everything that Shishitoren was working to protect, had made a choice and they weren’t respecting it the way that you respected them – and they were being, well, selfish.

And when they finally let you go, you sigh in relief. Making your way over to where Suo’s sitting, you yell out over your shoulder, with so much spite, so much anger, and so much love – 

“You act like I’m never coming back – stop whining like puppies!”

Togame’s and Tomiyama’s eyes widen in shock before they both laugh lightly at your words in disbelief.

You really knew how to scold them.

“... she’s talking about you.”

“... nah, she’s definitely talking about you.”

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

When you made your way over to Suo, you were met with guarded and curious stares from all of Bofurin. Too focused and too determined, you brush it off. You knew about the fight that they had with Shishitoren, sure, but you thought that they had patched everything up? And Shishitoren had fought with them for this big battle, so why the curiosity?

If only you knew the real reason everyone was staring at you.

Instead, you find yourself running past all of them with Suo’s name falling from your lips, and when you see him, he doesn’t respond.

You pause, dejected, before repeating his name.

No response. 

Now you’re worried – and scared.

You recognize Sakura and Nirei, based on how Suo had described them briefly, and you immediately begin asking them what happened.

“Sakura, Nirei – is Suo okay? Did he get hurt? Does he need first aid?”

You’re met with silence – and shock.

“H-huh? Do we know you?”

“U-umm – sorry, have we met before?”

You pause at their response, looking at them confused.

You blink once, then twice, then three times – before glancing at Suo.

Unresponsive and unperturbed.

You introduce yourself slowly, giving Sakura and Nirei the chance to remember you – because they must’ve heard your name at least once, right?

They hadn’t.

And now you’re standing there with hundreds of eyes on you, as you come to terms with the fact that maybe … maybe you’d been wrong this whole time.

You clear your throat before timidly asking a question that you fear you already know the answer to.

“Did he um… did he not tell you about me? Uh… about us?”

And suddenly – everything goes to shit.

Shishitoren rises up in arms, walking over to where you are because why did you look so confused and why was Suo ignoring their beloved princess – 

All of Bofurin is staring at you with their mouths wide open, processing the words you’ve just said –

Sakura’s spluttering, desperately trying to form words as he continues to just point back and forth from you to Suo with shaky hands – 

Nirei’s got his notebook in his hand, flipping through it like a madman because how could he miss something like this, and had Suo ever talked about you? – 

Suo’s unresponsive, still – 

And then, to top it all off, Kiryu gasps because he’s finally solved it. He’d seen a text on Suo’s phone, so brief and so quick, but he was sure that the person Suo was texting was – 

“Oh! You’re the one he’s been texting! You’re Princess!”

At Kiryu’s words, you snap. 

And no one, not even Togame and Tomiyama, had ever seen you this angry, this upset, this livid.

You weren’t expecting him to go around screaming your name all over Makochi, but what you did expect was at the very least maybe his friends to know. Was that so absurd? You never tried to hide your feelings for Suo from Shishitoren (They tried so hard to stop it) so why wasn’t it reciprocated? Did he not feel the same way? Had you looked too deep into his actions and created a fantasy in your mind? Did you not really know him as well as you thought? 

Or worse – had he been toying with you? 

Oh, you were pissed – and poor Suo didn’t have a clue.

You go to stand in front of him, eerily calm and sickeningly sweet as you call his name one more time.

“Hayato Suo.”

Now that – that brings him back to his senses. You watch him blink in succession as he grounds himself, before his eye darts to you, to Furin, to Shishitoren – and he quickly puts the pieces together before letting out a stiff laugh.

“Ah – I was hoping to introduce you properly to everyon–”

“Am I a joke to you, Hayato?”

Suo freezes at your words. 

How could you, who had unknowingly wormed your way into his heavily guarded heart, be a joke?

But he realizes now – and he feels, for one of the few times in his life, stupid.

Because you love with your heart on your sleeve, and Suo loves with his heart tucked away.

And really, Suo should’ve known, because you’re you — you who gave Shishitoren something to protect and to hold close to their hearts, safe from danger and harm’s way.

You press on, fighting through the anger and the embarrassment and the fear you feel rising inside of you.

“Tell me Hayato, answer me. Was I? Hm? Did you have fun?”

“No, I –”

“Every call, every text – did that mean nothing to you? Was I just being delusional?”

“Wait I –”

You’re so close to him now, softly jabbing your finger into his chest as your words begin to get more and more shaky.

“Do you feel powerful, Hayato? Making a Shishitoren girl fall in love with you–”

You stop yourself, teary-eyed and vulnerable, and you feel so stupid. Because what hurts more than anything is giving someone all your love, all your time, all your energy – all for it to have been for nothing. You thought he felt the same, truly. But now? All you wanted was to walk away from all of this, walk away from Bofurin, and never ever look back.

He grabs your hand, desperately, as your words sink in. He wants to – no, needs to make sure that he’s not just hearing things. That he’s not just imagining it.

“You … love me?”

You pause, taking the chance to actually look at him. You see hope on his face, and you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“... is this another joke? Of course, I love you, you idiot. You would’ve been the first one I ran to but your leader said you guys were all patched up already so I –”

Everyone’s eyes turn to Umemiya, who shrivels under the attention and wordlessly mouths an “I didn’t know!”

But your eyes are only on Suo’s, and Suo’s is only on yours.

And Suo lets you see him, truly see him, for who he is. He doesn’t shy away from your stare, doesn't put on a mask, doesn’t push his feelings into the box that’s been his safe haven for so many years. 

Your eyes flicker with uncertainty and fear, but you convince yourself to try one more time. Just one last time. 

“Hayato Suo, I really do love you,” you whisper, so slowly, so hesitantly, so scared.

Then, with everyone’s eyes on the both of you, Suo slides one hand to the small of your back, and the other to cradle your face.

He wanted to learn how to love with his heart on his sleeve – just like you.

“… again.”

“… I lov—”

His lips cut you off, and honestly, you’re not even mad. Not when he’s pulling you flush to his body, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, and your fingers grasping at the collar of his jacket.

Black, with green embroidery.

“I love you, too – but I’m afraid there’s too many eyes here for me to show you how deeply I feel for you, Princess – I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Dazed, all you can manage is a soft nod and a flutter of your eyelashes before pulling his lips back to yours.

Suo smiles into the kiss. He was right, you were as sweet as he thought you’d be.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's hard to go a day without seeing you, but it's impossible to go a day without talking to you. Bradley is trying not to seem too needy for you while you're thinking about making things official with him. Spending some time alone together on his couch might be the perfect opportunity to sort things out.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, mentions of smut and masturbation, Bradley hoping he hasn't fucked up

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"I think I'm in love."

"Excuse me?" Nat asked, nearly dropping her phone as soon as she was seated across from Bradley. "With whom? And if you say Vanessa, I’m going to flip this table over and scream. So choose your words wisely.”

Bradley was trying his best not to laugh too loudly at the slightly unhinged look on his best friend’s face. “Come on, Nat. She emailed me about a cup. Of course it’s not Vanessa.”

He watched her face slowly transform from apprehensive to intrigued. “Are you talking about the teacher? From the elementary school? Bradley, you haven’t even met her yet! She could be catfishing you!”

Once again, he had to try his best to contain his laughter as the waiter came over to tell them about the specials, including the massive steak dinner for two. He was willing to share it with Nat if that’s what she wanted for their very belated birthdays celebration, but he was already thinking about how much he’d really enjoy sharing it with you. You’d pick out the side dishes that you wanted to try, and he’d be more than happy to finish everything you didn’t eat. He was kind of loving this routine that the two of you had after just two dates. He was kind of already obsessed with the way you randomly texted him and sent him photos throughout the day.

“Is that okay with you?” Nat asked, kicking him hard underneath the table as the waiter looked at him.

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Steak dinner for two. Medium rare. Two beers.”

“Sounds good,” he replied before she could do any further damage. When the waiter left them alone, he told her, “Yeah, I was talking about the teacher. What would you say if I told you we already went out on two dates?”

She raised one dark eyebrow at him. “How? It’s Sunday. You just got back on Friday morning.”

Bradley could tell his cheeks were probably growing pink as he said, “I went to her classroom as soon as I got home. We went out Friday night and again last night.”

“So nobody is catfishing you?” she asked, sounding almost disappointed. “I always wanted to know someone who got catfished.”

“Natasha,” he said with a laugh. “Nobody is doing anything untoward.”

“Does that mean you didn’t fuck her yet?”

“Why are you like this?” he groaned, leaning back in his seat as the beers got dropped off. “No, we haven't done that yet.”

“Damn,” she replied before downing half of her drink in one go. “Sounds like you’re in love or something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! She’s perfect for me. And somehow I think I’m perfect for her.” When he noticed her chewing on her lip, he asked, “What’s the problem?”

Nat shrugged. “You barely had any time to yourself after you dumped Vanessa. I don’t want to see you get your heart broken. And I don’t want you to rush into something too soon. And if she’s not an improvement over the last few you’ve been with, then I’m going to dump her for you.”

Bradley smiled across the table. “I appreciate your concern, but I think you’ll actually really like her.” He said your name softly as he thought about the last message you sent to him that said, I can’t wait for you to surprise me tomorrow morning. “She’s very funny. And she sends me messages to see how my day is going, not just to ask me where her overpriced cup is.”

“Wow. So you are capable of attracting someone who isn’t devastatingly awful. Color me surprised,” Nat told him as she grinned.

He was never exactly sure how she could always both irritate and amuse him at the same time. “Just eat your steak.”

—---------------------

You were up absurdly early on Monday morning. You fell asleep while talking to Bradley on the phone until nearly eleven o’clock. He mentioned that he and his best friend went out for a beer and steaks, and then he jumped right into asking you what you did all day. He also asked if you were wearing his sweatshirt. Knowing he was only a thirty minute drive away had you ready to suggest he just come back up to your place and find out for himself, but you bit your tongue.

“It’s the only thing I’m wearing,” is what you’d told him, and he treated you to the prettiest whine in his raspy voice. You were still thinking about how needy he sounded the next morning when you got out of bed to try to make yourself look as good as humanly possible for work. He hadn’t mentioned it again over the phone, but on Saturday night after dinner at Salvatore’s, he said he was going to bring you coffee before work. He made it a point to tell you about it in advance since you didn’t like being surprised.

After the amount of time you spent on your makeup, you were going to be devastated if he didn’t meet you in your school parking lot. Should you text him? Remind him of what he said two nights ago? You could barely keep your own schedule straight half the time, and he just got home from being deployed. You decided to just give him the benefit of the doubt, and you left your apartment without having made a single cup of coffee. If he didn’t follow through on his promise of a caffeine delivery, you’d call him and make sure he still wanted to see you on Wednesday night for burgers.

But you didn’t even need to worry about it, because when you pulled into your school parking lot, his blue Bronco was already there. And he was standing beside it with his arms crossed over his chest. And he was wearing his flight suit. You weren’t sure how it was possible, but that drab looking thing fit him like a glove, and you were starting to sweat as you parked while you thought about that cockpit photo he sent you months ago. The one with his big hand and his thick thighs. It was saved to your phone now, and it was in the regular rotation of photos you liked to look at.

Once you parked, he reached for your door handle, and a split second later, you had your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips on his while he laughed. “Well, this is a nice surprise,” you told him while he juggled the massive Starbucks cup in his hand and tried to pull you closer at the same time.

“This kind of warm welcome makes me feel like maybe you missed me yesterday,” he told you as his free hand wrapped around your waist and settled on your lower back. “Because I know I missed you, Gorgeous.”

The butterflies were on the loose now as you kissed him one more time and let your fingers brush slowly through his beautiful, wavy hair. His flight suit was rough and stiff, but it just added to how soft and sweet he always seemed to be for you. When you pulled your lips away from his, that crooked grin and those pretty brown eyes were aimed right for you. “Yeah, I missed you.” Your whispered admission had his gaze sliding down your face to your lips. “Two dates with you and I’m already always thinking about the next time I’ll get to see you again.”

Bradley looked contemplative, and you hoped you didn’t just sound too needy for your own good. He surprised you when he said, “My next deployment is going to be my hardest one yet.”

Your eyes went wide as you tightened your hold on him. “It’s not happening now, is it?” you asked, your voice sounding a little higher than usual as your heart began to thud. There was no way. He just got back. They couldn’t expect him to leave again so soon, could they?

“No. Baby, no,” he replied immediately. “It shouldn’t be happening for months. But my god, you’re going to make it miserable to leave again when the time comes.”

Three days ago, you had no idea what his touch felt like, but right now you were convinced you couldn’t live without it. “Good,” you whispered, and that crooked smile was back.

“I can’t stay long,” he murmured, pulling away from you so you could take your drink from his hand. “I just knew I’d never make it until later in the week without kissing you.”

Before you could respond, he was opening the passenger side door of his Bronco to reveal another massive bouquet of flowers, similar to the ones he gave you on Friday afternoon in front of your class. “You’re too much,” you said, but something told you he was just getting started. You briefly wondered if it was too soon to have a conversation about being exclusive with him, because he was absolutely running circles around every other guy you’d ever gone out with.

You accepted the flowers from him while you sipped your drink which tasted perfect. He probably had a traffic-filled drive back to North Island to contend with, and now you could see school buses pulling into the parking lot, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to him yet. When you offered your drink to him to try, he smiled and said, “I don’t know if I’m going to like it with all the flavored syrup in it and everything.”

You held it a little closer and said, “Well, I like sharing things with you, Bradley.”

He groaned softly as soon as you said his name, and then he took a sip from your cup. “That’s fucking delicious,” he muttered before taking a second one. “Damn.”

“I have excellent taste. Especially in coffee and men,” you managed to say with a laugh before his lips descended on yours again. And for several minutes, all you knew was your favorite coffee, the sweet floral scent of the bouquet, and Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth.

“I really need to go,” he eventually murmured, lips pressed to the side of your neck as he had you pinned against your car door. “Wednesday. Burgers. Text me when and where?”

“I will, Bradley,” you gasped, unable to stop yourself from rubbing gently against him. His immediate response was to press his hips a little harder against you.

He was making you ridiculous, and the deep rumble of his voice when he said, “Good,” had you on the verge of calling out of work for the day and suggesting he do the same. You wanted every inch of him all to yourself somewhere private. You were panting as his lips and mustache dipped down your neck to the top of your cleavage, and then he pulled away from you altogether, cheeks pink as his chest rose and fell.

“Tell me to go to work, Gorgeous.”

“But I really don’t want you to.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, tugging his fingers through his hair. “Text me when you can and call me tonight?”

You pressed your lips together. “Send me another cockpit photo?”

He barked out a laugh that left you smiling, and he leaned in to give you one last soft kiss. “Whatever you want, Baby.”

Without touching you again, he backed away and walked around his Bronco, and he waved to you as he pulled out of the parking lot. Well. Now you were horny and caffeinated, and you carried your flowers to your classroom with you, knowing you’d need to have the relationship conversation with him soon. You’d be an idiot not to.

When you heard your name, you looked up from where you were standing behind your desk in a Bradley induced trance. “You have more flowers?” Jayden asked. “Are they from Lieutenant Bradshaw?”

Violet gasped. “Did you and Lieutenant Bradshaw get married over the weekend?”

“Where’s your wedding ring?” Henry asked, and you could only laugh at the hopeful looks on your students’ faces.

“I promise Lieutenant Bradshaw and I did not get married over the weekend. But he did inform me that he’d love to come back and spend some more time with all of us soon,” you told them, giving your flowers one last look as you headed for the front of the room. “Who wants to skip English for now and work on some more aviation problems instead?”

They all agreed unanimously.

—------------------------

All Bradley could do to keep himself sane until Wednesday evening was fly his Super Hornet and talk to you. Emails, texts and phone calls. As often as possible. He considered driving back up to Costa Mesa on Tuesday, but he really didn’t want to come on too strong. You had your own life and your own schedule, and it wasn’t your fault that he sat on his couch on Tuesday night with a half hard cock while he thought about how good you smell. He was desperate to touch himself, but he was way more desperate for the real thing at this point. Perhaps if Friday evening went well, you and he could move from his couch to his bed. Maybe you’d want to sleep over. Maybe you would stay all weekend.

“God,” he groaned, running his palm along the front of his gym shorts. Had he ever thought about Vanessa this much when he wasn’t with her? He certainly never had a collection of flirtatious selfies of her saved on his phone. And he definitely never got this hard for her when she wasn’t touching him. 

Sleep. He just needed to go to sleep. He tossed and turned for a long time after he called you quickly to hear your voice and say good night. You thanked him again for the cockpit photo, and all he could hear over and over again in his head was the word cock in your pretty, playful voice. Wednesday felt like a chore after that. Nat asked him again to see a picture of you, and he had to find one that hadn't been sent from your bed. That was easier said than done, and it also meant he got to scroll through the folder where he’d begun to save all the images you sent to him.

Bradley scrolled past the photo of you on the beach at sunset and showed Nat one from your classroom instead. “She’s hot,” she mused. “Very pretty face. Are the wholesome vibes doing it for you or something?” He raised his eyebrow, too afraid to actually answer her question. “Actually, she looks kind of familiar,” Nat said, handing his phone back to him.

“Does she?”

He got called to his jet, and the conversation ended there. Just a handful of hours left until he could meet you at the In-N-Out location that was about halfway between your place and his. And then he could kiss you again. He could make it. Just the thought alone kept him going. But even in his excitement on the drive up there, his mind wasn’t ready for what he found when he arrived.

The weather was overcast and a little cool, and you were sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the restaurant wearing jeans and his sweatshirt that you never bothered to return to him. And that was fine, because he didn’t want it back if you were going to keep wearing it and teasing him with that smile.

Your gaze was on him as he parked his Bronco and hopped out in his well worn jeans and tropical print shirt. “Gorgeous.” You were up and heading his way with his name on your lips like he belonged to you, and then you were in his arms again. “I missed you.”

When his stomach promptly growled because of his proximity to dinner, you laughed and started to lead him inside. “Missed you, too,” you told him as you patted his muscular abs. “Do you need two burgers or three?”

He glared down at you playfully. “Just two and some fries and a shake. I’m not a complete disaster.” When he pulled out his wallet, you snatched it out of his hand before he knew what happened. Then you ordered for yourself and for him, glancing his way to make sure you ordered what he wanted before pulling your credit card from your pocket to pay.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he murmured, feeling a little bad that he cost you almost forty dollars because he ate so much.

“I told you at Salvatore’s that the burgers are on me,” you replied, casually slipping his wallet back into his pocket. Your fingers skimmed along his jeans zipper before you pulled your hand away, and the needy look in your eyes was absolutely intentional.

“So, Friday night,” he said, voice raspy as he reached for you, sliding his hand around your waist. His mind was flooded with absolute filth as you tucked your body against his while the food was being prepared. He needed to buy groceries. He also needed to buy condoms. He really needed to jerk off. “Maybe you should bring whatever you need for a sleepover?”

“I was planning on it,” you replied easily. “I’ll leave work, stop home to grab my overnight bag, and then I’ll drive to your place for the night.”

Bradley could already picture you wearing one of his undershirts while you lounged around his place on Saturday morning. He could cook you breakfast after keeping you in bed as long as possible. “How do you like your eggs? Scrambled? Sunny side up? Over-easy?”

You were too busy burying your laughter against his chest as the order number was called. Being around you was the simplest thing he’d ever done. There were no jitters beyond the constant excitement he felt. Sometimes he could hardly believe he met you while he was deployed thousands of miles away from you. “Just eat your burgers,” you told him, and once again, he didn’t feel self conscious when he finished the first one in about five bites. And he didn’t mind one bit when you ate some of his fries.

When it was time to tell you goodbye, you didn’t hesitate before wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed along his scars like they didn’t bother you at all. Eventually your fingers toyed with the button on his jeans. “Start thinking about which movie you want to watch… or not watch,” he whispered next to your ear, and he was rewarded with the soft sound you made before you said his name. 

“A completely spider-free movie,” you promised, and his hands drifted down your back and along your jeans until he had his hands completely full of your perfect looking rear end.

“You know just how to get me going, Gorgeous,” he murmured, and your smile grew until you were laughing softly. Once again, you and he were on the verge of being indecent in public, and he had to take a step away from you before his excitement was too obvious to everyone else in the parking lot.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, and you were looking up at him with wide eyes. “I know what you’re doing right now, but on Friday, I’m not going to want you to stop.”

Bradley’s blood thrummed with need, and a grunt escaped him as he leaned one hand on your car for support. Technically speaking, Friday would be date number four, even though he’d known your touch for less than a week. Taking it slower than this was simply not an option, especially not when you told him something like that. “I’m not pumping the brakes anymore,” he whispered, swallowing hard as you grinned at him. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, Baby?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, and you pressed your lips together. “You’re doing it to me, too.”

Bradley reached for your door handle and said, “Send me something cute when you get home.”

“I will,” you replied softly before kissing him hard and parting his lips with yours in one last, filthy kiss. “See you on Friday.”

He was still standing there, slowly counting to fifty, trying to get himself under control as you pulled your car out of the parking lot.

—-----------------------

Bradley had a full refrigerator, a brand new box of condoms, and a perfectly clean house, now he just needed you. Everyone had been riding his ass all week at work, but he barely noticed. On Wednesday night after In-N-Out, you sent him a picture of you in the bathtub, your arm strategically draped across your tits. He asked for something cute, and you practically sent him nudes. But then you followed it up with one of you snuggled up in bed with a book. Scrolling through all of your pictures whenever he had a break at work got him through the week with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step, and he was the first one out of the locker room on Friday afternoon. 

He was shameless. He’d been thinking about tonight since he first asked you how you’d feel if he wanted to cancel dinner plans with you and just hang out at his place instead. You always made him feel like you were more interested in him than a potential dinner reservation. He zipped home to wait for you like an excited puppy just dying for attention. Going a day without seeing you felt too long. His plan was to order takeout, but after he fixed his hair and made sure his tee shirt and jeans looked okay, he started to skim the delivery options at his favorite pizza place instead. He was sure that as soon as you got here, he wasn’t going to want either of you to leave again anytime soon.

Bradley played around on his phone while he waited. One look at his calendar told him that he really had nothing pressing except for work over the next few weeks, and he wondered if you’d let him ‘surprise’ you with coffee before work on occasion. When he heard a knock on his door, he was up from the couch with his hand on the doorknob faster than it should have been if he was trying to play it cool, but he was past that now with you. When he pulled open his front door, you were standing there in his sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings with a tote bag on one shoulder, and as soon as you looked at him, you were in his arms.

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he whispered as your smiling lips met his. He had to kick the door closed as you started trying your best to push him further into the room while kissing him. All he could think about was how nice it would feel to have a girlfriend who greeted him this way all the time. To have you at his house as much as possible. To have you excited to just spend time with him.

You kissed his mustache and pulled away only far enough to meet his eyes as you said, “I’ve been daydreaming about today for months. When Jayden asked me if I was going to do anything fun this weekend, Violet said she wouldn’t be surprised if I was going to get a kiss from Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

He kissed you and murmured, “Kid really knows her stuff.” You continued to push him toward the couch as he said, “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s been a small change of plans.”

“Oh?” you asked, only looking mildly concerned as he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter.

“Yeah. I’m absolutely unwilling to leave to go pick up takeout right now, so we’re getting something delivered.” He let you push his chest until he dropped down onto his couch, legs splayed with you standing above him, hands on your hips.

“More time alone with you? Sounds good to me,” you murmured as you nodded down at him. “And you were absolutely right. You’re too big for your couch. Looks like we’re going to have to get cozy together. ”

You dropped your tote bag to the floor as Bradley reached for you with a smile. "Why don't you come here and show me in an abundance of detail just how cozy we can get." His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs, and you bit your lip. He wasn't going to stop himself tonight. As long as you wanted to mess around, he was absolutely into it. If you wanted to sleep together, he was ready to welcome you into his bed with open arms. He knew what he wanted now. He wanted you in his life.

As you took a step closer, he kissed your thigh through your leggings and then looked up at your face. "I brought a copy of my favorite movie with me," you whispered. "I can't wait to not even watch it tonight."

Bradley groaned softly as you eased yourself down onto his lap so you were straddling him with a little smirk on your face. He let his hands settle on your hips as he rasped, "This is very nice and cozy." Then you took his chin in your hand, gently kissed his scars, and pressed your lips to his as you scooted up so you were snug against his body. "Say my name?" he asked, your body as close to his as you could possibly be.

He realized he was begging. He also realized you'd been in his house for about five minutes, and he didn't even show you around at all, but your soft, sweet moan took all logical thought out of his head. "Bradley."

His arms were around your waist, and he was fighting with himself to slow this down just a tiny bit. Draw it out. Make it last all night. But you were his Gorgeous girl. The one he'd been falling slowly but surely in love with for months. And you had your hands up inside his shirt while you told him how much you wanted him. How you'd been thinking about him longer than you knew what he looked like. How you wanted to spend all your free time with him.

"Gorgeous," he murmured against your lips while you dragged your fingers down to the top of his jeans. Goosebumps ran down his neck and along his arms, and he couldn't remember anyone else ever making him feel this good before. You were still smiling as he kissed down the front of your neck to the top of his sweatshirt which looked way better on you than on him. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do first. You had him so flustered, he said, "I just want to make you mine."

When he heard loud knocking on his front door, you released your hold on him with a surprised laugh. "Did you already order the food?" you asked placing your hands on his where they rested on your thighs.

"No," he whispered, barely able to comprehend anything except how much sense the two of you made together. But he hadn't ordered food yet, and he didn't know who would possibly be knocking on his door, but he decided he would send them packing immediately so he could be alone with you again.

You shifted your weight on his lap, and he chased your lips for another kiss as you said, "Whoever it is needs to get lost."

"I'll take care of it," he groaned, standing a little awkwardly with his erection pressing against the fly of his jeans. "Sit tight, Baby." He leaned down to kiss you once more before straightening and walking backwards toward his door where there was more knocking. You were all curled up against the couch cushions now, eyes glued on his every movement as he watched your teeth sink into your lip again. "Jesus, you're perfect," he murmured, causing you to bury your face in your hands as you laughed.

Suddenly his annoyance snapped into place as he heard a voice through his front door say, "I know you're home, Bradley. I want to talk to you."

He knew that voice. He'd gone many months without hearing it, but he did know it. The sinking feeling in his stomach left him reeling as he yanked open his front door about a foot to reveal the one person he thought he'd never have to see again. Especially not when he was finally about to spend the whole night at home with you all to himself before asking you to be his girlfriend.

"Fuck," he groaned, his face heating up with embarrassment as all of the desire started to recede from his body. "What do you want?"

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

Bradley, I need you to get back on that couch immediately. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Couch, now. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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[sparklingchim]

you're losing me 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingering, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks

summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.

a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3

you're losing me masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.

And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.

Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.

So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.

You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.

“You’re trending on Twitter.”

As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.

“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.

“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.

“Oh.”

Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”

You giggle, swatting his arm.

You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.

It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.

You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.

“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.

“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.

“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.

“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”

Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”

“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,

“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.

As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.

The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.

You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.

~

2 weeks ago

“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.

You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”

“Love, if you are potentially-”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”

You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”

“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.

“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.

“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”

You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.

The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.

“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.

In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.

But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.

“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”

You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.

“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.

Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.

You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.

Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.

“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.

“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.

Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.

But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.

“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.

Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.

“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.

“You know you can when you’re with me.”

You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”

“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.

“But there’s no point in denying it.”

“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.

“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”

“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.

“I think so.”

“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.

~

Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.

There had been nothing to worry.

You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.

Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.

Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.

“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.

As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.

Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.

And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.

Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.

“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.

“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.

You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.

He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”

You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.

“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”

You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”

A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.

“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.

“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.

Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”

Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”

~

When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.

You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.

Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”

“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.

Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.

“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.

“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”

A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.

His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.

“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”

His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.

“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.

“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”

Your lips pull together in a confused pout.

“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.

“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”

“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.

“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”

Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.

“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”

“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”

“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.

“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.

“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”

“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.

“___!” someone yells your name.

You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink

You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”

Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.

“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”

But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.

“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.

“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”

“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”

Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.

You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.

He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.

“Are there condoms left here?”

You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.

“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”

As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”

You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.

Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.

Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.

Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.

As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.

“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”

“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”

“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.

You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.

You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.

Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.

“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”

You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.

“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”

He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.

“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.

“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.

You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.

“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.

“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.

“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.

You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.

“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.

Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.

Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.

“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.

But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.

“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.

It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.

But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.

“Why would you do that? I was close!”

He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.

“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.

“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”

He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.

“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”

“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.

“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”

“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”

Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.

“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”

“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”

“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”

“I am good,” you try to convince him.

Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”

While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.

“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.

Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.

“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”

“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”

“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.

The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.

“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.

“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”

It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”

“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.

“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.

It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.

Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.

“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”

And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”

Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.

You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.

“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.

“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.

“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.

After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.

“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.

“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.

Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 SOMETIMES ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU (LATE NIGHTS IN THE MIDDLE OF JUNE)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: realizing you have no idea when dazai's birthday is, you and chuuya embark on a massive quest to figure it out. and you do—but you also find out something far more worrying in the process, making you question if you ever really knew dazai osamu. the issue? you have no way of bringing it up to him. but you'll have to worry about that later anyway. first things first: you have to plan a birthday that dazai will never forget. {sfw, 14.8k}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: AHHHHHHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOYYYYYYYY im so proud of how this fic came out genuinely its my favorite thing ive written to date. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (warnings: fem!reader, mostly fluff with some angst sprinkled in at the beginning and end)

“Hey, do you know when Dazai’s birthday is?” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, do you ever stop thinking about him?”

Your jaw drops as Chuuya lets out the loud complaint, head snapping to the side to focus on where he’s sitting in the chair at the tattoo parlor near headquarters, cheek pressed against the headrest, glaring at you as the artist continues to work on the right half of his upper back, finishing up the last section of the art spanning across his entire back. It’s his biggest one yet, you can hardly see an inch of unmarked skin—bright reds of camellia flowers and different types of animals and objects centered around the skull of a ram decorate his back. It’s beautiful, you have to acknowledge that, you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a stunning tattoo before and Chuuya is beyond pleased with how it’s turning out considering how he’s constantly pulling off his shirt to look at it in a mirror whenever he gets the chance.

To honor the Flags, he’d told you when he dragged you along for the first session. You didn’t know most of them—you’d worked with Lippmann a few times considering his job within the Mafia, and you’d met with Iceman to give him the rundown on targets that needed to be handled when Mori would send him to you in Kyoto, but that was about the extent of your interaction with them. Chuuya’d been closer to them—he didn’t like to talk about them at first, but he’s gradually been more and more open with it.

You think it’s because he’s afraid of forgetting them.

“You’re an asshole,” you snap after getting over the shock of his rude comment, turning your head away to look out the window.

Dazai evades the two of you whenever Chuuya has one of his sessions scheduled. You think it’s kind of funny, honestly; you know he does it because he hates pain and he knows that if he joins you guys, Chuuya will somehow goad him into getting a tattoo with a dare or a challenge that he won’t be able to back down from. So, instead, he makes excuses for missions that you both know damn well he doesn’t have.

“No, I don’t know,” he finally says irritably. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

You give him an appalled look. “He’s your friend, and your partner. What do you mean you don’t know?”

“That bastard is not my friend,” Chuuya instantly hisses, but you can’t help but notice that he suddenly looks troubled by the realization that he doesn’t know Dazai’s birthday.

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes, knowing damn well that it’s a blatant lie. “That’s a fucking lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Is not,” Chuuya spits.

“Is too.” 

Chuuya would have kept going with the back and forth, but he’s given a sharp look by the tattoo artist working on his shoulder and he settles down, but not before shooting you one last withering look.

“I bet he knows your birthday,” you add after a few moments of silence, just to trigger Chuuya again.

It works.

He lets out a noise more befitting of an animal, head snapping back to the side to look at you. “He definitely does n-” He cuts himself off before he can even finish the sentence, glaring at you. “That’s because that freak knows everything somehow.”

You only give him an easy shrug. “Just saying, it’s a bit…” You give him a twisted expression, nose wrinkled and lips pressed together rather than saying the word out loud, and Chuuya looks murderous. 

“It’s a bit what?” Chuuya demands. “You don’t know his birthday either.”

“I’m not his partner,” you counter to hide the fact that you are very bothered over not knowing his birthday.

“No, you’re just his girlfriend,” Chuuya says snidely.

Your face heats up. “I am not his girlfriend, Chuuya,” you scowl. “Shut up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chuuya replies sarcastically, giving the tattoo artist an apologetic look when he gives the ginger another sharp warning with his eyes. “If Dazai wanted us to know his birthday, he would have told us. Y’know how secretive he gets over his personal life—he’d be shouting it off every rooftop if it was something he wanted us to do something about.”

You’re not quite as convinced.

At first glance, Dazai doesn’t shut up—he finds any and every reason to hear himself speak, whether it be random facts about crabs or ranking methods of suicide from least to most painful. Because of his tendency to run his mouth, most people don’t realize just how secretive he is about his personal life. You’ve realized that he probably uses it as a tactic to evade questions, because when people do poke and prod about his personal life, he becomes avoidant, expertly redirecting the conversation to something less personal by subtly changing the subject or pissing off whoever (Chuuya) is talking to him. You always catch it—conversation manipulation is your thing, you’ve finely honed your skills in guiding discussion to your discretion, it’s a skill that comes in handy at the negotiation table and in politics. You know he knows that you catch it too, always watching you carefully to ensure that you don’t call any attention to what he’s doing.

You don’t, of course, you’re not going to put him on the spot like that, but you don’t understand it. Well, you can to an extent—if you had random people prodding at your personal life, you’d also evade the topic. But you and Chuuya aren’t random people. You’re his friends, and you can’t for the life of you understand why he won’t open up to the two of you a little.

Every time you bring up the subject of him to him, he starts acting strange and cagey, like he knows that his evasion tactics won’t work with you and he wants to say something, but simply can’t get the words out. Maybe it’s his mistaken belief that he doesn’t deserve all of the things other people take for granted: comfort, friends, happiness. But still, you can’t imagine that Dazai doesn’t crave the experience of a normal birthday—well, as normal as things can get for teenage mafiosos—because you know that Dazai at his core simply wants to be a normal teenager.

As to why Dazai would rather deny himself happiness than to let you and Chuuya closer than arm's length? The answer alludes you even you.

When Chuuya grimaces, letting out a heavy breath and averting his gaze, you think that he’s come to the same conclusion as you.

“I assume since you’re bringing it up, you have some sort of plan?” Chuuya sighs, tired.

You smile.

“Naturally.”

You think Chuuya might kill you after this.

You can’t help but snort to yourself as you kneel on the floor next to Mori’s desk, rifling through his drawers to find the key to his file cabinet. Chuuya is somewhere downstairs trying to keep the man distracted with a fake medical condition while you try to find Dazai’s file in his office. You can hear him in the ear piece you’re wearing, flustered and stuttering over his words. You can almost picture how red his face is. 

Chuuya isn’t a bad liar, usually—in fact, he can act his ass off on missions—but lying to the Boss is an entirely different story. You think that you probably should have been the one to keep Mori distracted, but you worried that if Mori got up here and Chuuya was still searching, he wouldn’t be able to play it off. So, this was the lesser of two evils. 

Mori is getting increasingly more irritated as Chuuya keeps miswording the symptoms and backtracking, then blaming it on how ‘his head just hurts so bad, he can’t think.’ You’re sure he’s starting to suspect something—or more likely, the man probably figured it out right away—but you also know he’s too hyper-paranoid about losing his strongest ability user to dismiss Chuuya’s blatant lies for what they are.

You let out a victorious puff of air when your hand encloses around the key you’d been searching for, immediately shuffling over to the file cabinet, unlocking it as quickly as you can to shuffle through them, trying to find Dazai’s.

Mori has too many files, you think to yourself frustrated, eyes scanning as fast as you can as you flip through them, trying to spot the one you need, becoming increasingly more frantic when you hear Mori and Chuuya enter the elevator, not sure if they’re coming up to his office or if Mori’s dragging Chuuya down to one of the lower floor infirmaries.

Fuck, you think, finally flipping through to the D’s and letting out a frustrated groan when his file isn’t even there. You go through it again, more carefully this time, and nearly tug out your hair when you realize that either Mori misplaced Dazai’s file or there isn’t one. But you can’t imagine either of those options being true.

Getting increasingly more anxious as the seconds pass, and knowing that Chuuya actually will kill you if he embarrassed himself like this for nothing, you start rifling through the other letters in a panic. From the A’s all the way to the Z’s, it’s only on your second scan through that you pause, spotting a thick, unnamed file in the T section.

You stare at it for a moment, brows furrowed, a gut feeling twisting inside you as you try to pull out the file. It’s a struggle—the file is thick and the drawer is stuffed, but when you finally get it out and flip it open, your eyes widen when Dazai’s face stares back at you in the top left corner of the first paper in the file. He’s younger in the picture—no older than thirteen or fourteen—both eyes uncovered, black and void of life.

You let out a shaky breath, heart racing as your eyes scan dismissively over any information that’s not his birthday, because you know damn well Dazai will not take kindly to yours and Chuuya’s snooping and you want to mitigate the damage, only to halt when your gaze catches on blacked out information right above the date.

His name?

You pause, eyes focusing momentarily as you try to understand what you’re reading.

NAME:  ████████████████ 

ALIAS: Dazai Osamu

What?

You don’t know how long you stare at the file, lips parted and a torrent of emotions clawing at your chest. Mainly confusion, but also something else—tighter, more unwelcome. You don’t even have time to try to figure out what you’re looking at because at once, the remote in your pocket is buzzing, the last signal from Chuuya that Mori is on the floor of his office.

You let out a string of curses, putting the file back where you found it, locking the cabinet and putting the key back before darting to the other side of the desk. You mask the confusion and nerves rattling your mind and body with an irritated expression just as the door opens.

“… ggest that you take some time to rest, Chuuya-kun. Physically, there is nothing wrong with you.”

You look over your shoulder, eyes meeting Mori’s as you frown deeply. “You’re late,” you say. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes.”

“Ah, apologies, I’m afraid young Chuuya-kun has spent the past twenty minutes following me around with nonexistent health issues,” Mori replies with a thin smile, purple eyes carding over you before he looks around his office curiously, as if he knows you’d been up to something but doesn’t know what. Chuuya cringes next to him and gives you a withering look, he opens his mouth to protest but Mori is speaking again before he can get anything out. “What did you want to discuss?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the situation in Vladivostok,” you say, eyes following Mori, waiting for him to sit down so you can. You watch as he glances around his desk, as if trying to figure out what you’d been doing before he showed up. You almost smile when his eyes narrow after coming empty handed. “I think it would be in our best interest…” 

As you sit down across from Mori, you slip your hands behind your back, giving Chuuya a thumbs up, letting him know that his humiliation was not in vain.

Step one, complete. June 19th.

“I will never fucking forgive you for that,” Chuuya hisses when the two of you finally leave Mori’s office. “Never. That was humiliating.”

You snort. “It was pretty bad.”

“Fuck you,” Chuuya snaps. His face is still on fire, has been for the past twenty minutes as you explained your plan for the new organization rising to power in eastern Russia. “Well? When is his birthday?”

You cringe and Chuuya is instantly glowering at you. “Don’t even tell me you didn’t find it. You gave me the thumbs up. I’ll-”

“No, I got it,” you say dismissively. 

That’s not what you’re cringing over—you’re cringing for two reasons: 1) his birthday is less than five days away and you have no idea how the two of you are going to figure something out before then, and 2) the reminder of Dazai’s file, its misplaced location and the blacked out information where his name should have been, the alias labeling what you thought was his real name.

Your lips part to bring it up to Chuuya, but you hesitate because you don’t know if you should. The last thing you want to do is upset Dazai because you let something out that he didn't want anyone to know.

“Well?” Chuuya demands. “What is it?”

“June 19th,” you say, watching as Chuuya blanches. “Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do in four days?” Chuuya hisses, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you to look at him. “I don’t even know what that bastard would want.”

You’re just as lost, grimacing as you rub the back of your neck. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Dazai never really… wants for anything.”

You stare ahead listlessly, leaning against the elevator wall as the two of you head down to the first floor. Dazai likes playing video games, but he gets bored of them quickly. His room is stacked with games he’s played once and then tossed to the side. He likes crab, but you’re not going to get him canned crab for his birthday. He likes suicide, and you’re pretty sure a new edition of that wretched book of his came out, but you also don’t want to get him that for, well, obvious reasons.

“Maybe we can get him a pet crab?” Chuuya frowns.

“He’ll kill it,” you dismiss, “and then he’ll spend months whining over it. And blaming us.”

“Fair enough.”

The elevator door slides open as the two of you reach the bottom floor, and you watch as the subordinates meandering about incline their heads toward the two of you as you pass by. You only absently wave them off, mind racing as you try to figure out what to do for Dazai’s birthday. Crab, suicide, video games—what else could Dazai possibly like?

You think the only other thing is-

Oh. Oh. You have an idea.

A smile spreads across your face. “Chuuya,” you say, relieved, “I have the best idea-”

“There you guys are,” Dazai’s familiar voice rings from the right, and immediately, Chuuya gives you a sharp, panicked look and you shut your mouth, stiffening. “I was…”

Dazai trails off, and you briefly shut your eyes, because wow, that was entirely unsubtle. Dazai’s smile is more strained now and the shine in his dark eye fades, the palpable excitement withers away in a matter of seconds.

Fuck.

“I see,” Dazai says, voice cool and withdrawn. “You guys are busy. It wasn’t important anyway.”

“Dazai,” you call after him, taking a few steps, but the boy has already whirled around, stalking off the way he came. He ignores your call of his name. “Shit.”

“He totally took that the wrong way,” Chuuya says, as if that wasn’t obvious.

“How astute, Chuuya,” you say dryly, chest tight as Dazai disappears around the corner.

“You know, for someone who brags about not needing anyone, he’s pretty fucking sensitive,” Chuuya notes.

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, Chuuya,” you snap at him, but the redhead only shrugs carelessly in response.

“It’s the truth. Anyway, what was your idea?” 

Even with the weight of Dazai clearly being upset heavy on your chest, the reminder of your idea for his birthday still causes a sly smile to spread across your lips.

“You’re gonna love this.”

Not only was Dazai upset, but he was upset enough that he hasn’t come back to your apartment in three and a half days. You figure he must be back at his shipping container, or maybe staying with those other friends of his, but you feel lonely without him. It’s weird not coming back to your apartment to find him lounging on your couch eating your favorite snacks; it’s different when he has missions and can’t be here, right now? He’s choosing to not be here, and that makes you feel gross and uncomfortable.

You feel bad, and no matter how many times Chuuya tells you to look on the bright side—that you guys can plan his birthday without him constantly hovering, figuring out what the two of you are doing—it just makes you feel worse. 

You’re sitting in your apartment waiting for Chuuya when the elevator bings, signaling someone coming up to your apartment—and considering there’s only two people who the front desk let up without your explicit permission, and one of them is still dealing with issues at one of the ports, which flooded from all of the rain the past few days, there’s only one person who it can be.

Your eyes widen as your head snaps up, looking to the elevator as the doors slide open, revealing Dazai fumbling with something in his jacket as he steps out. He doesn’t even notice you until you rise to your feet, and when he does, he’s instantly guarded. 

“You’re supposed to be on a mission,” he accuses, voice low.

You’re a bit hurt that Dazai only showed up to your apartment because he thought you wouldn’t be here but you mask it with a tilt of your head and a curious expression.

“I am on a mission,” you say, and it’s not a lie—the mission is finalizing the plans for Dazai’s birthday, step two starts in four hours and you need to confirm things with Chuuya before it begins. What awful timing, you realize mournfully, because you do want to smooth things out with Dazai but right now you can’t afford to. “It’s one I can do at home.”

Dazai makes a dismissive noise in the back of his throat, gaze focusing on the folders laid out in front of you. Closed, luckily, you’d been skimming through one but you got bored while waiting for Chuuya and decided to scroll on your phone.

“I only came to pick up my other jacket,” Dazai finally says, voice still cold and distant—you hate it.

Your eyes track down to Dazai’s coat, noticing the blood that’s dripping from it onto your wood floor.

You cringe, but then extend an olive branch by asking, “Want me to throw it in the wash?”

Dazai hesitates, a reluctant expression crossing his face but he nods, slipping it off his shoulders and padding over to you slowly, handing it to you carefully so as to not get the blood on your couch. Your fingers brush his as he does and your throat spasms a bit.

Dazai draws back quickly, but then he looks down at the files in front of you, and then back to you and asks, “… Want help with that?”

Shit.

This is Dazai’s olive branch, and you have to reject it. Because then he’ll realize this is no mission, and all of the plans for his birthday will go to waste.

“Nah,” you say easily. “It’s fine. It’s quick, where were you heading out to?”

Dazai looks a little put out by your rejection, but he doesn’t look too bothered, so he probably took your lie as truth.

“Bar Lupin.”

You roll your eyes.

Dazai gives you a dirty look.

“I don’t know why you get so jealous about them,” Dazai says pettily, obviously trying to get a retaliatory dig in for whatever wound he thinks he received the other day. Your eye twitches at the accusation. “I knew Odasaku before you.”

You pause at that.

Does Oda know Dazai’s real name? You’re hit with a wave of vicious jealousy, and faced once again with the back and forth you’ve been dealing with the past three days—do you really know Dazai? He’s always hid a lot from you, you knew that, but to realize that you only know him by an alias… You don’t understand it—is it by choice? Does he just no longer want to associate with that name? If that’s the case, then you don’t even want to ask and make him uncomfortable. 

But what if it’s not? What if Dazai Osamu is just a fake persona he’s built to hide his real self? You doubt he’s a spy, Mori would obviously know but… if it was Mori that forced him to take on a new name and identity? If he wants to let people in but can’t? You remember all of the times when you ask him things and he stares at you as if he wants to answer but doesn’t know how.

“You shouldn’t think too much, your small brain will implode.”

“Fuck you.”

Drawn from your thoughts, you glare at Dazai, who only gives you a simpering smile in return, eye regaining that little bit of shine it’d lost when he ran into you and Chuuya that day. Then he hesitates again and you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll call things off with Odasaku and Ango? … You picked out that movie last week, we never watched it. We can watch it after you finish up?” His voice is quiet, uncertain and you feel like a cunt, because you have no way of saying no without being a cunt. 

You’d already told him that the mission wouldn’t take long, so you can’t use that as an excuse. You think maybe you should just call off tonight with Chuuya, meet at his apartment later on to try to get things for dawn, when everything is to take place. It would be risky, you don’t know if you can pull off such an elaborate scheme with such little preparation and Dazai, of all people, as the target, but you think you’d rather risk that then say no to him right now. 

Your lips part to agree, mind already racing trying to figure out how to get all the folders out of here before his nosy ass can peak at one of them, but you’re interrupted by your elevator binging. Again.

Oh, fuck.

Dazai stills as his gaze cuts backward, eye sharp as the elevator doors slide open and reveal an irritated Chuuya, soaked up to the waist and covered in mud.

“Fucking hell,” Chuuya seethes. “I’m never helping out at the ports again. They’re fucking incompetent, I-”

Chuuya pauses when he sees Dazai. Dazai doesn’t budge. For a split second, not a single one of you dares to move. You can see the quick cogs within Dazai’s mind turning as he pieces together an answer—why you didn’t accept his help, why you took so long to respond. Dread piles in your stomach as you try to figure out what to say only to come up empty-handed. For someone known for a quick tongue and sharp brain, you always somehow find them failing you when faced with conflict with Dazai. 

Finally, Dazai breaks the silence with a cool smile and a mirthful look in his eye, glancing back at you.

“That’s why you wanted me out of here. Okay.” He leaves no room for questions, doesn’t even bother to go into his bedroom to grab his other jacket before stalking forward and entering the elevator Chuuya just came out of, not even acknowledging his partner before smacking the button to the first floor.

“Dazai!” you call after him, taking a few steps toward the elevator but he only turns his chin as the doors slide shut. You shout after him angrily, “And you say I’m the jealous one!” but you doubt he even heard it.

“That bastard has the worst fucking timing ever,” Chuuya says as soon as he’s gone, unperturbed.

You give Chuuya a withering look, wanting to curl up on your couch and die. So you do that. The weight on your chest that had only just finally started to relieve itself from you returns with a vengeance, and you suddenly feel like you want to cry, unsure of how everything has gone so wrong the past few days when you just want to do something nice for him. You tuck your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, placing your chin on top of them.

“Relax,” Chuuya says, tossing himself onto the couch next to you; you don’t even have it in you to be annoyed by the water and mud, shoulders slumping as he tosses an arm around you and lets you lean into him. “It’ll be fine. Blockhead won’t even know what hit him tomorrow. C’mon, let’s get this finished so we’re ready to go.”

“… You want us to… kidnap the Demon Prodigy?”

Your subordinates stare, expressions pale and aghast as they share looks with one another. You stand resolute, head held high, and Chuuya raises his eyebrows next to you. Your eye twitches at the moniker that follows Dazai everywhere.

“That’s what we said, yes,” you say, frowning. “Was I unclear?”

“No, hime-” You roll your eyes at yet another one of Mori’s ghastly titles.

He must find it quite amusing, pleased with himself every time he watches you turn green with disgust when he insists on using the term. Even worse, it seems he’s somehow managed to coax your subordinates into using the shitty moniker too. The old man must really enjoy pissing you off, he’s certainly very skilled at it. 

Your lip curls up in irritation when your subordinate continues.

“It’s just-what if-”

“You will not be punished for targeting an executive,” you say dismissively. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“We fear that the Demon Prodigy will… draw his gun when threatened,” the man continues, grimacing as if trying to choose his words carefully. You don’t recognize him—you think you should probably get to know your subordinates better, you’ve left most dealings with them to your partner, Itou… who you also have to get in contact with for this plan to work. You wince, realizing you still have much more to do within the next few hours. “How should we proceed if he does?” 

“Dazai probably will.” You stress his name, giving the man a withering look. To his credit, he winces and looks away. “But he will also be drunk, and slower, taken off guard, so you will… Well, I suppose you wouldn’t have the advantage over even a drunk and surprised Dazai, but there are more of you, so there’s that.”

“Way to inspire confidence,” Chuuya mutters dryly.

You shrug, “I’m not going to delude them before sending them out. They should be prepared to take a bullet or two. Hopefully nonlethal—you have bullet proof vests.”

“You’re fucked up,” Chuuya snorts, before turning his attention to the dozen or so gathered subordinates. “There will be minimal risk, and remember, nobody is to know about this. Nobody. Not even the other executives, or the Boss.”

“Especially not the Boss,” you add. “For the next day and a half, you’re relieved of duties. Go back to your families, or get shit-faced drunk, but don’t come back to headquarters. Under any circumstances. Clear?” 

The men exchange looks with one another, uncertain. “And if he draws his gun?” the man prods again. 

You share a look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye. “He’s not to be injured,” you finally say, voice firm, not leaving any room for doubt. “Under any circumstances. Inject him with this, you’ll be fine.”

You pull from your pocket a sedative that you’d pocketed from Mori’s office before, dangling it in front of them, waiting for one of them to reach out and take it. When they do, you lean back on your heels and look at them.

“This has to be successful,” you tell them, finally starting to feel the pinpricks of anxiety run through your chest the closer it gets to go-time. Dazai is so mad at you right now, and if this fails, it’ll make things ten times worse. Failure isn’t an option—it never is, but especially not now. “I won’t accept anything less.”

“Yes ma’am,” one of your subordinates murmurs and the rest echo, half of them look as if they’re marching off to their death and you absently make yourself a note to give them a big bonus this month. “Can we at least know why we’re kidnapping the De-Executive Dazai?” 

You smile. 

“It’s his birthday gift.”

Dazai is in a bad mood.

Oda watches curiously as the boy downs his seventh (eighth?) drink, wondering if he should tell him to slow down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Ango cringing, lips parted as if to speak but then reconsidering as he shakes his head and takes a sip of his own alcohol, looking thoroughly concerned. Dazai hasn’t said a word since he showed up two hours ago in a foul mood, and every time Oda opens his mouth to ask, Ango gives him the sharpest look and Oda instantly shuts his mouth.

“I think the slug is dating-” Dazai finally speaks, voice rough, right hand clenched around his glass of whiskey. It’s as if he can’t even bring himself to say the words and Oda’s eyes narrow as he studies him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. “I think the slug is dating… her.”

Her. He must mean you. You’re pretty much the only ‘her’ that Dazai ever refers to—goes on about you nonstop whenever he gets a few drinks in him.

“That’s nice,” Oda says without thinking, until he sees the horrified look cast his way by Ango. “That’s awful.”

“It is awful,” Dazai agrees with a hiss. “It’s awful. I hate it. It’s disgusting.”

Oh, Oda realizes, a bit more amused, grateful that Dazai is too busy glaring into his drink to see the smile that curls to the corner of his lips. Oda had suspected that Dazai has a crush on you just from the way he talks about you—going from long winded rants of how agonizing you are to live with (as if he doesn’t actively choose to live with you) to wistful recounts admiring your missions (although those quickly shift into rants, as if Dazai catches himself yearning and has to make up for it by acting like it never happened). 

Oda and Ango realized that Dazai was obsessed with you months ago—back before the Dragon’s Head Conflict even ended, not long after you showed up, actually, when he first started talking about you. Oda assumed that it was a kiddie crush that he’d grow out of, but here he is a year later, just as infatuated—if not more so.

Cute.

“What-” Ango begins only for his voice to waver, glaring at Oda when he sees the smile on the man’s lips. He sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose before retrying. “What makes you think they’re dating?” 

“The other day I went looking for them and I found them together, and I was gonna ask them to go to the arcade with me, but as soon as they saw me, they got all stiff and uncomfortable like they didn’t want me there.” 

Dazai almost sounds hurt by it—words strung out a bit long, lips curved down. It’s not often that Oda gets to see him act like the sixteen (seventeen now? Oda realizes he doesn’t even know the boy’s age and makes a note to ask) year old that he is, and while it’s unfortunate that this one is stemmed by him feeling rejected by his friends, he also can’t help but smile at it. Which Ango catches from the appalled look that the other man gives him.

Oda smothers the smile again instantly.

“That doesn’t mean that they’re dating,” Ango begins, trying to be reasonable, but is cut off when Dazai tosses him a sharp glare.

“And then,” Dazai continues, “I went home before because I thought she was going to be on a mission, but she was there working on it, and I offered to help her with it so she could finish faster, but she said no. And I didn’t think anything of it, but then I said I was going to reschedule with you guys for another day so we could watch a movie, and she didn’t respond at first, and I thought that was weird, and then guess what? The slug showed up. She was blowing me off to hang out with him.”

Wow, Oda thinks to himself. That’s a lot to break down. 

Home. Oda is careful this time to not let his lips quirk up into a smile but it’s impossible to hide the fond look in his eyes as he looks down at a sulking Dazai, who has slumped over the bar top, absently playing with the spherical ice in his drink. Oda has never heard Dazai refer to anything as home before. His shipping container had always just been the shipping container, and up until, well, today, your apartment had always just been your apartment. Ango catches the wording too from the way his eyes widen a bit.

And then on top of that, Dazai? Offering to help someone with work? Oda thinks there’s a better chance of fire raining from the sky. Oda is realizing that this really is more than a kiddie crush—not that Dazai would probably ever acknowledge that. Oda wonders if he should help him get there. 

“That doesn’t mean they’re dating,” Oda finally says, taking a sip of his drink and ignoring the way Ango gives him a side eye, focusing instead on how Dazai turns his head to the side to look at Oda. If Oda didn’t know any better, he’d say the boy is pouting. “They might be planning something for you, don’t want you around for it. You had that mission recently, didn’t you? The one everyone said would fail?”

Oda realizes, a bit too late, that if that is the case, he just ruined the surprise and silently apologies for it. But Dazai doesn’t seem to take him seriously anyway, rolling his eye as he returns to bouncing the ice in the glass.

“Yeah, right,” he says dryly. “No one does anything like that for me.”

Oda purses his lips, not responding, and Ango sighs as he looks away. Oda tries to figure out what to say, testing some words on his tongue but they all feel wrong.

Finally, he chooses to just be blunt. “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

The noise Ango lets out is all but a whimper, he buries his face in his hands as if to disappear. Dazai’s gaze cuts to the side, head turning slowly as he focuses on Oda.

“What?”

Oda thinks maybe he should stop talking, but he doesn’t, naturally. “Y’know—you could just tell her how you feel,” Oda repeats, seeing the way Ango is shaking his head frantically but he continues anyway. “Telling her would save you from doing this once a week.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Dazai says icily, taking a tone that he rarely uses with Oda as he pushes himself off of the barstool and turns to leave. “I’ve had too much to drink. I’m heading out for the night.”

Dazai doesn’t wait for either one of them to say goodbye as he all but storms out of the bar. Oda sighs, taking a sip of his own drink.

“That could have gone better.”

Ango slaps the back of his head hard.

“I can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Alright, it’s time.”

You watch the live CCTV cameras from the sleek black car you and Chuuya are huddled in. Your partner, Itou, sits in the front seat, rubbing his temples as he spares you guys a short look. You raise your eyebrows at him but he only shakes his head.

“I don’t know what goes through your head sometimes,” he tells you, tired. “I want no part in this beyond this right here.”

“You’re no fun,” you say, squinting at him, “and we still need you to get the footage from the headquarters.”

Itou sighs so heavily that you think he might be trying to expel his lungs from his body. He glares at you from the corner of his eye. “Nothing beyond that. You’re insane for this. You’re going to get us all thrown in the torture chambers.”

“Relax, don’t be so serious. It makes you ugly. You’ll be fine,” you complain, focusing back down on Chuuya’s laptop, straightening as Dazai finally comes into view on the screen. 

You and Chuuya exchange an excited look with one another, a smile twitching onto your lips as you wait for the scene to unfold. You pointedly ignore the noise Itou makes when he notices how thrilled the two of you are at the prospect of kidnapping Dazai—but Itou doesn’t get it, he doesn’t know Dazai. Dazai will love this, and he’ll love it even more when you get your hands on the footage of Mori’s and Kouyou’s reactions to the kidnapping.

You’ve got your subordinates disguised impeccably as members of a low-rung gang that’s been trying to make moves into the northern wards of Yokohama. You had a meeting with them a few days ago to determine whether they’d be worth absorbing or if Mori should just send Dazai and Chuuya to deal with them. You decided on the latter, and the two of them are supposed to go in and exterminate them next weekend.

You figured they would be the perfect cover to pose as Dazai’s “kidnappers.” They’ve been aggressive and violent in Port Mafia territory, making increasingly larger steps into the Naka Ward. You were honestly curious to see how far they’ll try to go, but you doubt Mori will let it get any farther than he has already anyway, so you thought you might as well get some use out of them to stage a realistic-looking kidnapping.

You think Mori will probably assume this was intentional at first when he gets the report. He’ll call you and Chuuya, the two of you will act bitter and angry as if you’re not on speaking terms with Dazai currently—which, you suppose it’s for the best that he stormed away from the two of you that day in headquarters, because it’ll make it seem legit—you’ll hang up and tell him that you’re busy for the night, tell him not to bother you again. 

When Mori realizes that neither you or Chuuya know what’s going on, he’ll start to get suspicious. He’ll seek out the tapes and see Dazai drunk and lost in thought wandering home, see the way he genuinely struggles against his “captors” before being knocked out—none of the casual arrogance he usually has when getting himself captured by the enemy—and then? Then, you don’t know how Mori will react. You assume that he’ll call you and Chuuya again, get the two of you on it, but by that point, your phones will be off.

You’re giddy as you, again, focus back on the screen, watching as Dazai meanders down the street. His movements are slow and unsteady, and your giddiness fades when you see the downcast expression on his face. It’s hard to tell from the footage, but he’s clearly bothered about something. You wonder if he’s that pissed about what happened earlier, or if something else happened with his other friends—he’s usually at Bar Lupin for at least another two hours.

“Okay,” Chuuya says into his earpiece. “Begin stage one of the operation.”

“He looks kind of upset, doesn’t he?” you murmur when Chuuya takes his fingers off the button on the earpiece.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

You ignore the curious, knowing look that Itou gives you through the rearview mirror and instead tunnel your vision onto the laptop screen… although you find you don’t really want to look at that either. You grimace as your subordinates finally make their move—and it’s testament to how lost in his own thoughts he is because Dazai hardly notices what’s happening until they’re on him.

He goes for his gun instantly, but your subordinate—Kirishima, you learned his name was—is quick to disarm him, knocking the gun out of his hands and reaching for his arm. Dazai is still swift on his feet, nimble even with a dubious amount of alcohol in him. He’s able to worm out of Kirishima’s grip, darting backward. The expression on his face is lethal, gaze cold as he tries to assess his situation, and you watch as the realization that he might be in trouble finally hits.

Just as Kirishima is about to motion for two of the others to go for him again. Dazai slips his phone out of his pocket and dials a number.

“Fuck!” Chuuya spits. “If he calls the Boss-”

But Dazai evidently did not call the Boss, which would have been the smartest decision on his part considering Mori would have gotten one of Verlaine’s special ops units to him within a max of three minutes, because after a second, your phone starts ringing.

Oh.

You stare at it, heart lodged in your throat, unsure of what to do.

“Shit,” Chuuya says, just as caught off guard. “I didn’t think he’d call you. You can’t pick up.”

You shoot Chuuya an accusatory look. “I have to pick up,” you hiss. “He called me when he actually thought he was in trouble. I can’t just ignore him, that’s fucked up.”

“We staged the kidnapping, it’s already fucked up,” Chuuya snaps right back, “and he can read your ass like a book. If you pick up, that bastard will figure out it’s us.”

“Chuuya,” you bristle, ready to ignore him and reach for your phone but he’s quicker than you, arm darting forward to grab your phone before throwing it out the window. You stare at him horrified, “Chuuya!”

You think you might throw up when you watch Dazai take one last glance at his phone before an unreadable expression crosses his face. He elbows one of them hard in the gut to get away, but Kirishima is on him with the sedative before he can make a run for it. Dazai grimaces when he feels the pinprick in his neck, and you finally look away when he slumps over onto the ground.

“Don’t start feeling bad now,” Chuuya says, glaring at you. “What did you think would happen?” 

“I don’t feel bad,” you lie, and when Chuuya gives you a doubtful look, you sigh and say, “He just looked so…”

Human. 

He looked surprised, uncertain—it’s rare for Dazai Osamu to be caught off guard by anything. You think in the year or so that you’ve known him, you’ve only ever seen him genuinely thrown off like this once, and it was when the Colonel’s operation against the Bishop’s Staff went haywire during the Dragon’s Head Conflict and you got caught in the crossfire, captured by the enemy.

You’ve always been of the belief that Dazai is one of the most human people you’ve ever met. You’ve fought people over it, you’ve fought him over it. The issue is that he’s also ridiculously intelligent, likes to portray himself as inhuman, be it to intimidate his subordinates or enemies or to fulfill whatever fucked up image he has of himself, you don’t know, but he’s good at it. It’s only when he’s put into situations like this, where he’s got no shot of keeping up his mask, surprised and trying to push away the rising panic when he realizes that there’s no way to think, talk or fight his way out of a situation, that you really see his humanity. It’s stark compared to his usual demeanor, almost palpable.

You sit there simmering in your own thoughts until Kirishima knocks hard on the window to the car. Dazai looks small in his arms—he’s tall, but thin and lanky because he doesn’t eat properly no matter how much Chuuya belittles him for it and you try to get him to eat. His frame is small, and it’s especially apparent without his coat to create the illusion of a larger stature, when his face is lax, visible eye slid shut as he lays limp and unconscious in his arms.

You push open the door and Kirishima bends down to shuffle Dazai into the car with you. His body slumps against you, head falling onto your shoulder and you push your lip out a bit as you reach up to brush his hair out of his face.

“The sedatives?” Chuuya asks, leaning around you to focus on Kirishima.

Kirishima lifts the empty syringe, glancing at Chuuya before focusing on you. “Are we free to go, hime?”

You scowl at the nickname but you nod, more focused on shifting Dazai into a comfortable position. “Go get drunk or go to your families, I don’t care. Don’t come back to headquarters ‘til Monday, but be there early, we’ve got a mission.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kirishima replies, inclining his head to you before shutting the car door and leaving.

As soon as the door shuts, you sigh and let Dazai’s body fall over, head resting in your lap. He looks so completely at peace that you almost forget that it’s because he’s been drugged. He never sleeps well, even now that he’s staying at your place—you hear him wandering around at night, restless, and the few nights he does sleep, he seems to be plagued with nightmares. You rest your hand on his hair and absently brush your fingers through his damp locks before turning to look at Chuuya, who’s watching you with an expression nothing short of judgmental.

“What?” you demand.

“Nothing.” Chuuya rolls his eyes. “How long do you think the sedative will last?” 

“It’s a pretty high dosage,” you say with a frown, looking down at Dazai. “But Dazai’s got some mutant metabolism. Remember when he walked off a whole ass horse tranquilizer during Dragon’s Head. I give it like four hours max.”

“We need to get moving then,” Chuuya sighs, and you nod.

You lean over the center console and give Itou a sweet smile, careful to not jostle Dazai around too much.

“I’ll drive you there, but then I’m gone,” Itou sighs, giving you one last warning look before he puts the car in drive. “Don’t involve me in this any further.”

“Thank you, Itou,” you coo, sharing one last look with Chuuya before letting out a sigh and turning your attention back down to Dazai, gaze lingering and a soft smile on your face.

Chuuya makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat.

You ignore it.

The beach house the two of you have usurped for the weekend is nicer than you could’ve imagined. You don’t know how Itou found it for the two of you, maybe a friend of his—you’ve found that he has friends everywhere, it’s been quite handy for when you have to deal with politics—or maybe he killed someone for it, you really can’t be sure with him. It’s a neat little place south of Higashikoiso, a little over an hour out of Yokohama—the house is near a cliff overlooking the sea, with an easy path down toward the beach.

There are only three bedrooms though, which is unfortunate considering you and Chuuya plan to coerce Dazai’s other friends into showing up. You might not be the fondest of them for petty reasons, but you think Dazai would like that, so you’ll bite your tongue and suffer through it. Either way, three or four people are going to have to share rooms depending on the set up and you’re fully intent on not being one of them; you already have your argument that you’re the only girl in the house and you think it will be solid enough, unless Dazai decides to be stubborn. 

“This is kind of fucked up,” you note while setting the scene.

Dazai is still unconscious, it’s only been an hour and a half so you should have some time before he wakes up, but you want to get this done as quickly as possible, because you don’t want him to wake up while you and Chuuya are halfway finished to setting up the room to make it look like a ransom scene.

“This is definitely fucked up,” you correct, but you’re smiling as you finish up typing the ropes around Dazai’s wrists, sitting him up in a rickety wooden chair.

You and Chuuya had dragged him down to the basement—Itou had luckily had some interrogation tools in the trunk of his car, and was not inclined to ask any questions when you asked for them, passing them over to you with the most concerned expression you’d ever seen on the nineteen-year-old’s face.

The basement looks like any average torture chamber—stone walls, damp and dingy, so it’s easy for you and Chuuya to transform it into an acceptable backdrop for your picture. You adjust Dazai in the seat again, fingers ghosting over his neck from where his head is falling forward, hoping he’s not too uncomfortable.

“This is your idea,” Chuuya shoots back, tilting his head to the side with a frown as he examines the scene. “He’s not roughed up enough. We’ve gotta do something, did you bring makeup with you?”

“No,” you admit, rubbing the back of your neck before an idea pops in your head.

You slink over to Chuuya and grab the knife that he carries at his side, ignoring the perturbed look on his face as he instantly takes a step away. Making your way back over to Dazai, you grimace as you cut the palm of your hand, smearing some blood on Dazai’s face and shirt to make it seem as if he’s been roughed up. You readjust the ropes, tighten them a little more and make sure some of your blood drips down onto the floor above where Dazai’s face is hanging before you take a step back to admire your handiwork before turning to your accomplice.

“... Do you have the burner phone?” you ask Chuuya, wrapping your hand with cloth, figuring you’ll just bandage it up later. 

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

“Take the picture,” you tell him, stepping out of the way to hover over his shoulder, watching as Chuuya squints his eyes and tries to angle it properly so Dazai looks as in bad shape as possible. 

When he’s finally satisfied, he looks to you. Your lips curve up, “I’ll read off the number of that friend of his, you type it in. This’ll get them here for sure.”

As you do that, Chuuya starts snickering, clearly as entertained by this whole situation as you are. “You’re fucking psychotic for this, y’know?” he says, typing out the message to be attached with the image before pressing send and tossing the phone away.

“You helped me,” you accuse, but you're grinning, giddy again as you grab a towel to wipe the blood off of Dazai, pulling off the ropes and forcing Chuuya to help him back to the couch where he can be comfortable.

“Yeah, but it was your idea, you crazy bitch,” Chuuya tells you again with another snort. “What do we do now?”

“Wait.”

Everything happens at once.

Sakaguchi Ango and Oda Sakunosuke get to the beach house much sooner than you thought they would, and Dazai starts stirring an hour earlier than you expected—mutant metabolism, you think again. Luckily, it all happens at around the same time, so you get to see all of their reactions at once.

Neither Sakaguchi nor Oda have made a move into the house, probably trying to figure out the best course of action. Dazai still hasn’t woken up, curled up on the couch while you and Chuuya play cards at the table in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. You’re winning, of course, and Chuuya is becoming increasingly more frustrated from the way he keeps slamming his cards down onto the coffee table.

“They’re about to come in,” Chuuya says, giving you a withering look as tosses his cards across the table—another losing hand. You give him a smug smile and Chuuya bares his teeth at you. “Come here.”

You sigh as you shuffle over around the table so that he can put his hand on your shoulder, ready to activate the Tainted Sorrow in case Sakaguchi and Oda come in guns blazing. On the couch, Dazai starts to shift, a low groan escaping his lips, and your eyes draw back to him, focusing on his face and the way his brows are furrowed and his lips are turned down.

“Here they are,” Chuuya hums, lips quirking up into a sharp smile. “Ready?”

“Yup,” you agree, popping the ‘p’ as you lean back on your hands and stare at the door. “How long do you think it’ll take them to actually open the door?”

“I give it five more seconds,” Chuuya snorts, and you shiver when you feel the familiar sensation of the Tainted Sorrow spreading across your body, an impenetrable barrier to protect you from whatever may come your way.

Just as Chuuya predicts, five seconds later, the front door is kicked open. You frown, hoping that they didn’t break it off of the hinges, because you don't want to hear Itou bitching about it later on. Oda Sakunosuke comes in first, gun steady and finger on the trigger, but the man is cautious and tilts his head to the side when his eyes fall upon you and Chuuya.

“What is it?” Sakaguchi asks from behind the other man, taking a step into the beach house to follow Oda’s gaze to you and Chuuya. “I-what?”

“Sakaguchi,” you say, lifting your hand to wag your fingers; maybe you’re a bit petty when you don’t acknowledge Oda. “Long time no see. I was grateful for your help when dealing with Nishiki and his cronies.”

“I, ah, hime-” You sigh at the moniker, eyes fluttering shut. “What is… going on? We got a picture and a…”

Sakaguchi trails off when he sees Dazai stirring on the couch, and you turn your attention toward him. You watch as he finally lifts his arm to rub his eyes, sluggish and slow. After a split second passes, you notice him stiffen, as if remembering what happened, and his eyes shoot open, cold and sharp.

You smile. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you coo. “Took you long enough.”

The icy mask slips away into genuine confusion, his brows furrow and his lips part. Next to you, Chuuya snorts, “Now, that’s a fucking sight. I almost want to take a picture.”

“What…” Dazai begins, then notices Oda and Sakaguchi still standing near the front door, blinking a few times. “What is going on?”

You’re sure that must’ve been the most painful question for Dazai Osamu to ask—admitting he has no idea what’s happening. Chuuya snickers and Dazai shoots him a contemptuous look, diluted by the fact that he still looks half out of it from the sedative.

“Yes,” Sakaguchi asks dryly, “what is going on?”

You smile proudly and then say, “We kidnapped you. Seemed pretty realistic, didn’t it? Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

Dazai blinks, you can see him trying to force his brain to start moving faster so he can put together the puzzle pieces you’ve handed him. His gaze calculating and lips tight. “You… set up the kidnapping?”

Oda then says: “See. I told you they were planning something.”

“Planning a kidnapping,” Sakaguchi sighs, tired. “Did you guess that too, Oda?”

“Well, no.”

Hardly listening to Oda and Sakaguchi’s bickering in the background, you keep your attention on Dazai, who’s watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. You waver for a second, wondering if he’s mad at the two of you—you’d figured it could be an issue, that he might be put off by being kept in the dark about this. He really does hate not knowing things. 

“Why?” Dazai asks quietly, and you note how Oda and Sakaguchi share a look with one another before quieting down, waiting for your response.

“I’m glad you asked!” you say brightly. “It’s your birthday present!” 

You relish in the way the room goes quiet. Dazai’s dark eye widens, taken off guard for the second time in a matter of a few minutes. You’re even more gleeful when you see how Oda’s expression shifts into one of surprise, how Sakaguchi draws back, stunned. At least your fears of Oda and Sakaguchi knowing more about Dazai than you go unfounded.

“Yeah, shitty Dazai, say thank you,” Chuuya goads, a smug smile on his lips.

Dazai doesn’t respond, staring at the two of you with yet another indecipherable look, an odd shine to his dark eye. You feel a bit exposed under his stare, wondering what he could be thinking.

“How did you know?” Dazai finally asks, and oh, you realize that’s not the question he’s asking. Dazai knows that there’s only one way the two of you figured out his birthday—his file in Mori’s office. What he wants to know is which of you got hands on it.

“It was a grand plot,” you say, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you look up at him. “Chuuya kept Mori distracted while I ransacked his office looking for your file… part of your gift is going to be the recording of Chuuya trying to distract him. It was quite funny.”

“Hah?!” Chuuya demands, whirling on you. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

You ignore Chuuya, keeping your gaze trained on Dazai instead, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Is he angry at you? Upset? It’s impossible to tell from the heavy gaze he has laid on you, thousands of conflicting emotions swirling behind the black of his eye. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek as you wait—god, only one person evokes this type of nervousness in you and you swear he enjoys it.

After what feels like an eternity, Dazai finally lights up, flinging his arms out to his side, a wide, borderline facetious smile painting his face as he says, “So, I get an entire day to order you guys around to do my bidding.”

“Hey!” Chuuya shouts, equally incensed by Dazai’s words as he is by yours, head snapping to look at him. “That’s not the fucking gift, bastard.”

“What’s the plan then?” Oda asks curiously, and then adds, “... I’m glad you brought us here… as unconventional as the method may have been.”

You notice Dazai gives Oda and then you a curious look, but before he can ask, Chuuya is leaping to his feet, talking quickly as he waves his hands around, making subtle digs to get a rise out of Dazai, but Dazai is more focused on you.

You push yourself to your own feet, trying to ignore Dazai’s lidded stare and focus on what Chuuya is saying but it’s hard, especially when you see Dazai standing from the corner of your eye. He’s still a bit unsteady, movement slow and sluggish, and you’re sure that’s the excuse he has for when he meanders a few steps over to you, dropping his chin on your shoulder. You don’t dare to turn your face to the side to look at him, his lips brush your ear as he murmurs:

“Talk later?”

“... ‘course.”

Luckily, later doesn’t come for a long while. Chuuya was insistent on going out to the beach—you think he was more eager to see Dazai wear the ugly Hawaiian shirt that the two of you had brought along for him more than anything else, but he quickly found interest in the large waves coming in from the sea, running back to the beach house to seek out the boards that you’d found in the basement.

Dazai doesn’t go in the water, but you think he’s having a good time considering there’s a shine in his eyes that’s rarely there. Right now, he’s sitting in the sand in front of Oda and Sakaguchi; the former listening to Dazai ramble on about whatever he’s talking about, the latter tapping away on his computer and occasionally nodding along.

You spend most of your time watching Chuuya cheat at surfing, using his ability to keep him on top of the surfboard as he seeks out the biggest waves. You’re standing in the water yourself, no further than knee-deep because you don’t want to get your clothes and hair wet. You’re kind of annoyed that Dazai’s been spending all of his time with Oda and Sakaguchi when you and Chuuya were the ones who did all of the work, and again, you can’t help but wonder if he might be mad at you. He didn’t seem to be on the walk down to the beach but you can honestly never know with him.

You drag your gaze from where Chuuya is hooting and hollering as he catches another big wave, rolling your eyes when you see the red emanating around his feet and the surfboard, so you can look back at Dazai. He’s stopped talking, listening to whatever Oda is saying instead as he stares at you with a contemplative expression. You feel distinctly seen beneath his stare, lost as to what he might be thinking. He doesn’t even notice that you caught him looking, or if he does, he doesn’t care.

You shake your head when you hear Chuuya coming toward you again, turning your attention back onto him.

“Did you see that one?” Chuuya demands, exhilarated, board tucked under his arm as he brushes his hair out of his face. “Did you?”

“I did,” you say dryly. “It would’ve been much more impressive if you hadn’t been cheating with the Tainted Sorrow.”

Chuuya looks scorned. “I don’t see you getting out there to try,” he scowls, lifting his chin. “You’re more preoccupied with staring longingly at shitty Dazai.”

Your face heats up, you kick the water at him and make sure it gets in his face. “I am not,” you hiss. “Don’t be annoying, Chuuya.”

“I give it another ten seconds before you look back at him again,” Chuuya croons, a wide smile on his face that you have half a mind to slap right off.

To make it worse, you do feel an itch to look back at him now. Your eye twitches as you force yourself to keep looking forward at Chuuya just to make a point, but an odd feeling starts to stir in your gut when you see the way Chuuya’s gaze keeps darting behind you, looking increasingly more pleased with himself.

Finally, you give him an accusatory look before turning your head over your shoulder sharply to where Dazai had been with Oda and Sakaguchi only to find-

That he’s not there?

You hardly have enough time to register what you’re looking at before you see a rush of movement from the corner of your eye.

No-

All you hear is Chuuya’s wild laughter and the sound of the ocean waves reverberating through your skull as Dazai tackles you back into the water hard. The water cushions your fall as your back finally hits the sand. You lift your hand to press your palm against Dazai’s face, pushing him away from you, lungs burning and decidedly soaked as you push yourself out of the water, gasping for air.

“Dazai!” you shout, throwing yourself at him with every intent to throttle him. 

Dazai tries to dodge, but is too busy wheezing over laughter to actually do so. He lets out a dramatic cry when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and successfully knock him into the water face down. He flails dramatically, arms and legs kicking as you hold him down beneath the water.

When you finally drag him back up above the surface, he inhales a lungful of air before giving you an indignant look. “You can’t do that,” Dazai shouts, pointing at you. “It’s my birthday.”

“I’ll do it again,” you shout right back, hair sticking in your eyes and clothes clinging to your skin from the seawater. “I wanted to go into town after this.”

Dazai looks just as messy—the cheap Hawaiian shirt you and Chuuya had got him is drenched, and the colors are bleeding into his bandages, making the previously pristine whites become a colorful swirl of oranges, blues and pinks. He looks like a shitty attempt at a watercolor painting. The bandages around his eye look especially uncomfortable from the way his visible eye keeps twitching and immediately your anger fizzles away into amusement.

You share a look with Chuuya that Dazai instantly catches, looking suspicious and alarmed.

“Chuuya, go get the camera.”

Dazai doesn’t even wait for another word. He instantly turns on his heel to bolt back to the beach house, but you’re chasing after him in an instant.

“Chuuya, go!” you yell again as you lunge forward, fingers curling around Dazai’s ankles to make him faceplant back into the water.

You scramble forward to straddle his waist to keep him in place but he worms out of your hold, trying to make another break for it but fails because you’re still clinging to his leg, dragging him back down with you. Distantly, you think you should’ve gone for the camera while Chuuya kept Dazai in place.

“Chuuya’s right,” you spit out. The two of you are out of the water now, you can feel the sand in your shirt and grating against your skin as you roll around with him trying to keep him still. “You really are like a slimy, slippery fish.”

“You can’t do this,” Dazai screeches. “It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday!”

“I got it!” Chuuya shouts from over by the chairs, racing back over to the two of you. 

“Took you long enough,” you yell right back at him, realizing that you’re going to have to sacrifice your own dignity to get Dazai in this picture, otherwise he’s going to try to run away again. 

Chuuya can hardly hold the camera straight through his snorting, and you’re sure you probably look equally as embarrassing as Dazai. There’s sand on your face, in your mouth, in your hair, in places where sand definitely shouldn’t be, but at least you don’t look like a kaleidoscope. Dazai lets out a pitiful noise when he realizes there’s no escape, trapped between your arms. He tries to hide his face in your neck, probably for plausible deniability that it’s an imposter trying to make him look bad, rather than it actually being him himself.

“Say cheese, mackerel,” Chuuya mocks.

“Fuck you,” Dazai complains.

But you can feel the smile twitching on his lips against your skin.

Oda and Sakaguchi set up a fire later that night. 

Well, by Oda and Sakaguchi, you mean Oda while Sakaguchi sat there and played dictator, telling him how to make a campfire that Oda clearly already knew how to make from the way he seemed to be hardly listening to the man.

Dazai and Chuuya are off trying to figure out how to use sparklers, which you think is a bad idea. You think the two are more likely to set each other on fire than actually use them properly, which is why you’re staying far away, tapping away on your phone near the campfire, relaxing under the sea breeze.

Itou: everything going ok?

You almost roll your eyes before responding with.

You: Yes. Why?

Itou: just curious :p

You: Could’ve stayed if you were curious. We offered.

Itou: yeah, maybe if u wanted to find me dead in a ditch. ur boy hates my guts.

You’re grateful that no one is around to see how you let out an embarrassed puff of air at how Itou refers to Dazai, instantly clicking out of his messages to see what other messages you have. Before you can, you feel a presence hovering above you and look up, raising your eyebrows.

Oda Sakunosuke stands next to you, studying you curiously, and you look to the side and then back toward him, unsure of what he wants.

“Yes?” you ask slowly. Sakaguchi is still sitting closer to the house, scowling as he bats away bugs.

“This is nice. What you did for Dazai,” Oda says simply. “I haven’t seen him this happy in… well, ever.”

A bit embarrassed, you shrug. “It’s whatever,” you say awkwardly. “Just happy it all worked out.”

“I don’t think Dazai’s ever had someone do something like this for him before,” Oda admits. He’s not looking at you anymore, fond gaze trained behind you to where you can hear Dazai and Chuuya arguing about how to use the sparklers. “He never told Ango or I his birthday… or anything personal about himself, really. I’m grateful that you brought us along.”

You wish you could sink into the ground and die, knowing that if it was up to you, you never would have invited either of them but forced yourself to for Dazai’s sake. Again, you shrug, and say, “Was for Dazai. Thought he would like it.”

“Well, I’m grateful anyway,” Oda says dismissively, looking back down at you. “You should stop by the curry place where I take Dazai every once and a while. The kids I brought in stay there, Sakura is the only girl, I’m sure she’d like having another girl around to talk to.”

You blanch. “I don’t-uh-I don’t know if that would be the best idea, I’m not exactly… a good influence for kids.”

Oda shrugs. “Maybe not conventionally, but you’re tough. Work ten times as hard as any of the others in the upper ranks of the Mafia to keep your position. It’s impressive. If Sakura was even half as strong as you are when she grows up, I’d be proud of her.”

Your lips part to speak but no words leave them. You think, maybe, that this is the first time anyone has ever acknowledged this. Your position has never been as secure as anyone else’s—you think maybe that it’s part of the reason why Mori is so insistent on people using that stupid fucking title, as much as you hate it.

Your own subordinates respect you, the rest of the upper echelon who know of your contributions do, but everyone else? Hierarchy is absolute and the Boss’s orders are paramount, but when subordinates see a chance to push themselves higher up the ladder, it’s like sharks with blood in the water. Without a powerful ability like Chuuya’s, or a mind and presence like Dazai’s, as a girl, you’re on the lowest rung, the first one they’re circling to try to get ahead.

You prevent gang wars, keep the government off the Mafia’s ass, but that’s all behind the scenes—none of the lower ranked mafiosos see any of that. They see Dazai and Chuuya bringing down entire organizations overnight. Ace bringing in billions of yen. Kouyou’s perfect record of assassinations. Hirotsu leading the Black Lizards. Akutagawa and his ability. All they ever seen in you is-

All they see in you is a seventeen-year-old girl who happens to be favored by the Boss.

Although you don’t necessarily care for Oda’s presence, even if only for petty reasons, you do appreciate his words. Your shoulders slump and you want to reply, say thank you at the very least, but nothing comes out. You think he notices, and being the infuriatingly kind person he is, he gives you an out. Oda Sakunosuke pats your head like you’re a dog. You give him a side-eye and cringe away from his hand, but he’s unperturbed. 

“I’m glad he has you,” Oda tells you, before wandering back over to Ango, leaving you there flustered and caught off guard.

Your gaze draws back to where Dazai has finally got his sparkler working, and for a second, you’re entranced. You can hardly drag your eyes from the bright gleam and soft smile on Dazai’s lips as he eyes follow the bright pink and gold sparks flying around as he waves the sparkler around in front of him. It’s childish, almost, innocent in a way that Dazai Osamu never gets to act.

You have to force yourself to look away from him, turning your attention back to your phone to go back to what you were doing before Oda interrupted you.

Several texts from Kouyou and Mori demanding you to pick up your phone, one concerned one from Hirotsu—you’ll have to apologize to him later—and several from an unknown number that you don’t recognize. Akutagawa? Dazai’s subordinate? You’re going to have to have a serious talk with your subordinates later about giving out your number. You click back to your message thread with Itou, pointedly ignoring the last message as you type.

You: How the hell did Akutagawa Ryuunosuke get my number?

Itou: pretty sure he threatened a couple of our subordinates, wounded one of them. i have to deal with it tomorrow. have dazai train his dog before letting him wander around unleashed.

You roll your eyes and then tilt your head back to shout over your shoulder, “Dazai, train your fucking subordinates properly.”

The bickering from where Dazai and Chuuya were arguing behind you halts, and you hear the two of them approach you.

“What happened?” Chuuya asks curiously, peeking over your shoulder at your phone. You promptly close it before he can catch sight of the other message that Itou had sent about Dazai.

Dazai comes to hover next to you, waiting for you to explain, and you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “Akutagawa injured one of my men and threatened others trying to get my number when he heard you were missing. Get him under control.”

Dazai’s visible eye twitches. “Untrained mutt,” he spits out. “I’ll deal with him.”

You share a short look with Chuuya from the corner of your eye, wondering if you’d just condemned Akutagawa to Dazai’s violent wrath, but you’re distracted when your phone buzzes again.

Itou: check ur email.

You straighten in your seat, immediately flicking out of your messages app to your email to find one from Itou with a video file attached.

“No way,” you breathe out, excited, not having expected Itou to get his hands on it so quickly. You turn to look at Dazai, a wide smile on your face; you miss the way the irritation on his instantly fades, visible eye widening and lips parting at the sight of your smile. You also miss, in your excitement, Chuuya’s grunt of disgust. “Dazai, you wanna see your real present?”

Curious, Dazai peers over your shoulder to see the email you got. “What is that?” 

“Watch and see,” you croon, clicking on the video to show the surveillance tape from headquarters.

Instantly, Dazai seems to realize what it is, eye lighting up. “No way,” he says, half sitting on top of you in your beach chair, ignoring your irritated hiss.

“Get your bony ass off of me, Dazai,” you snap at him, but Dazai ignores you, settling down as he snatches your phone to watch the video. 

Chuuya joins him, crowding in on your other side to lean over his shoulder to watch the video. Rolling your eyes, and unable to see the video on your phone, you instead lean back into the chair and watch their reactions to it instead.

Chuuya looks amused, a sharp grin on his face as his eyes remain pinned on the video, and Dazai looks delighted, he cackles and shifts to lean forward, making you grimace when he ends up digging more into your thigh to push himself up.

“Look at his face,” Dazai screeches. “He really thinks it was real. Ane-san looks like she’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Chuuya looks back at you, smiling but there’s a hesitant look in his eyes. “We’re going to be in so much trouble when we get back,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Yeah, you agree silently, more focused on the bright shine in Dazai’s eyes and the wide, genuine smile on his lips. He’s so giddy that he’s almost vibrating in your lap, and when he finally looks back at you, he looks at you as if you’ve given him the world. Worth it, though.

Despite ardently arguing why you should be the one who doesn’t have to share a room and succeeding—forcing Oda and Sakaguchi (who didn’t seem to mind) and Chuuya and Dazai (much to their distress) to share a room instead—you find that you can’t sleep at night anyway. 

It’s almost midnight when you finally decide to wander out of the house, making your way to the path leading up to the clifftop—everyone called an early night, the excitement of the day, and the lack of sleep, leaving everyone exhausted before the clock hit nine-thirty.

The seabreeze is cool against your skin, the moonlight’s illumination the only guide you have as you make your way up to the cliff’s edge. Your hands are stuffed in the pockets of your sweats as you drag your feet against the dirt path.

You don’t notice someone sitting up there at the edge until they turn their head to the side to look at you, startled by your arrival.

“Dazai,” you say quietly, standing there awkwardly for a moment. You haven’t spoken to him alone yet, you’d meant to earlier but then Chuuya got his hands on wine before bed and that plan went out the window.

Dazai sighs whimsically when he catches sight of you. “So, hime forces me to share a room with the slug only to not even use her own room. She’s so greedy,” he whines, lashes fluttering as he looks up at you.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you tell him, making your way over to sit with him, legs dangling off the edge, swinging absently. Your thigh is pressed against the side of his, feet occasionally bumping into one another, when you rest your hands against the ground to lean back on them, your thumb brushes his. “You wanted to talk.”

Dazai lets out an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat, and you watch as his gaze turns down to his lap, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s pretty beneath the glow of the moonlight, peaceful in a way you hardly ever see him. His expression is free of the numerous masks he wears to protect himself, eyes dark but warm and full of various emotions as he chooses his words carefully.

“Hime read my file,” Dazai finally says, voice soft, almost hesitant. You catch the way his jaw tightens and untightens, the corner of his lips tightening and quivering; a subtle tell to his nerves, one that most people wouldn’t catch, but you do.

“I did,” you agree. Your own heart races in your chest as you wait for his reaction; you don’t think that he’s angry, you think you’d be able to tell if he were angry by now, but you can’t help the anxiety plaguing you.

“So, you saw,” Dazai hums, but there’s a bit of a wobble to his tone. He pointedly doesn’t look at you now, staring ahead out toward the sky and distant sea. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“No. I figure you’ll tell me if you want. If not, it’s okay.”

It’s decidedly not okay, but you don’t want to pressure Dazai into telling you. You want Dazai to open up to you, but you don’t want to force him to, so you force yourself to be content with the fact that he’s at least acknowledging this, instead of pretending it didn’t happen.

“I can’t,” Dazai says. 

His throat bobs beneath his bandages, dark eye uncertain as he stares down to the turbulent sea. You think a storm must be coming, the waves have become rocky, whitecaps staining the horizon, crashing into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Dazai shifts, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

“By choice?” you ask after a few moments. “Or is someone—” Mori “—forcing you to?”

“... Both,” Dazai responds after a few moments. “I…”

Dazai doesn’t finish whatever he was going to say, voice wavering. After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, he continues.

“I don’t have good memories associated with that name,” Dazai finally says, and you don’t dare to speak, hardly even dare to breathe because you don’t want to ruin whatever spurred this decision of his to crack himself open to you, afraid that if you make the wrong move, he’ll withdraw again. “... Sometimes, I miss it though.”

“That’s normal, I think,” you tell him after a moment, looking to the side to focus on him, watching the way his eyes lower at your words. “You have… better ones as… Osamu?” 

It’s your first time referring to Dazai by his first name, and from the way he inhales sharply, he recognizes it as well. There’s something distinctly vulnerable in his expression as he turns his face to you.

“I have you,” Dazai says quietly, and it’s so instant that it catches you off guard, lips parting. As if catching his own lapse in control, he blinks and then rushes to add, “And Odasaku. Ango. The slug.”

You smile a bit to yourself. “Yeah,” you agree. “You do.”

Dazai looks as if he wants to say something, his lips are parted and his gaze is uncertain. You give him a questioning look, wondering what could possibly be running through his head right now, but then he speaks.

“Shuji,” he says so softly that you barely hear him. “My name was Shuji.”

Your eyes shoot open at the admission, Dazai’s goes just as wide, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it out loud. You open your mouth to say something but Dazai doesn’t even give you the chance to.

“You can’t use it ever, okay?” he says, voice tinged with a type of panic you’ve never heard in the boy before, dark eye filled with desperation. “Never. Not when we’re with people. Not when we’re alone. Not ever. You can’t.”

You don’t think Dazai has ever begged anyone for anything in his life, but he’s begging you now… a part of you can’t help but wonder if it’s for his sake, or yours.

“Can I say it once? Right now?” you ask quietly, swallowing thickly.

Dazai looks unsure and hesitant, but he finally nods. “Then you have to forget it, okay? You can’t ever let anybody know it. Nobody can ever know it. And nobody can know that you know, okay? No one, especially Mori.”

You don’t really like the sound of that, your gut tugging uncomfortably at the stress on Mori’s name, but you don’t want to press anymore than you have, so you agree.

With the winds howling around the cliffs to drown out your voice, and only Dazai and the stars to bear witness, you shift to face him. You reach up to cup Dazai’s cheek, fingers brushing against the bandages on the right side of his face, watching as he inhales sharply at your sudden touch. Before you can lose your nerve, you lean in to ghost your lips against his cheek. 

“Happy birthday, Shuji,” you whisper softly, pulling back to sit next to him. Your face is on fire, and Dazai doesn’t react beyond a shaky breath and his fists tightening in his lap.

Finally, instead of responding, he reaches out to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Your smile is soft, and you can feel Dazai’s fingers trembling, body uncharacteristically lax as he rests next to you.

Your free hand brushes a stray rock at your side and you turn to look at it curiously, noting the jagged edge and then getting an idea. Dazai frowns when you pull your hand from his and shift away, giving you a questioning look, but then you shift to your knees, grabbing the rock and etching your first initial into the flat rock that the two of you are sitting on. Dazai watches you carefully and when you hold it out to him, he hesitates before taking it from you.

He doesn’t do anything for a second, staring down at your initial with the jagged edge of the rock resting against the ground next to it. Finally, he takes in a steady breath before carving a ‘+ S’ right next to yours. You chew on the inside of your cheek and your eyes are a bit misty as your hand falls to trace the letters.

After a few moments, you let out another breath and settle down next to him again, a bit closer than you were before, thigh pressed firmly against his and shoulders brushing. You reach for his hand again, intertwining your fingers with his, looking up to the vast sky above.

Your lips part to speak, but the words catch in your throat, fingers tightening around his for the sparest second. He gives you a curious look and you don’t dare to look at him as you finally force the words from your lips.

“The moon… it’s pretty beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” you say quietly, throat tight as you stare up at the sky, the glittering stars and the full moon glowing above. 

You can feel Dazai’s gaze on you as he responds. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I think if I died tonight… I would die happy.”

Three years later on the early morning of June 19th, Dazai Osamu sits on the cliff’s edge in the same spot he did with you all of those years before, watching the sun break over the horizon. His fingers trace over the two engraved letters next to him, and not for the first time in the past two years he’s spent underground, he yearns. 

He yearns for you so bad that it makes his chest hurt, his stomach turns in on itself; he yearns so desperately that it’s hard for him to breathe without you, the thought of you weighing so heavily on his mind that he thinks the pressure of it might kill him. As he’s gotten closer to finally being able to leave the underground and join the Armed Detective Agency, he finds that he thinks more and more of you.

He wonders what you’re doing—if you’re thinking of him, if you hate him, if you’ve forgotten all about him. He can almost imagine you sitting here with him, shoulders brushing, thigh pressed to his, fingers intertwined.  He doesn’t know how long he’s spent sitting in that spot, fantasizing that you were there with him, longing for days with you and Chuuya and Odasaku and Ango that are long gone.

Before his thoughts can spiral any further, his phone rings—only one person would be calling him right about now, so he lets it get to the final ring before picking up.

“Fukuzawa-san is ready for you,” Ango says as soon as Dazai picks up the phone, waiting no time for pleasantries.. “Make your way over to the Armed Detective Agency when you can… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, hanging up the phone and letting out a soft breath. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and his eyes linger on the engraved initials, worn with time but still clearly visible, for only a few seconds longer. He pushes himself up to his feet and walks back down toward the beach house with the thoughts of you still clouding his head.

Yeah, Dazai thinks a bit dryly, chest heavy and aching as he looks back at where the two of you once sat three years ago. Happy birthday.

fun facts!

the inspiration for this fic came from the summer vacation bungo mayoi cards with dazai, oda and ango LOLLLL

the inspiration for the "dazai osamu not being dazai's real name" comes from the fact that irl!dazai was a pen name—his real name was tsushima shuji.

i'm gonna drop some pm!reader universe lore here too. in the pm!reader universe, i decided to go with the popular theory that dazai was the previous boss's son/grandson, which is why his word held so much weight when he vouched for mori. when everything calmed down after the death of the previous boss and after most of the old regime of loyalists had been disposed of, mori had shuji change his name to dazai osamu, to shred any connection he might have had to the previously reigning mafia family, just in case more loyalists popped up. in the present pm!reader universe (from 16-22), only kouyou and hirotsu know who dazai really is.

[yongvillage]

bruises | k.mg

street fighter bf!mingyu x afab!reader

established relationship, porn with some plot, minghao cameo cuz i love him, mentions of injury and blood, fighting, make up sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, one joke of mingyu being a masochist, one mention of death, creampie, oral (m receiving), skull fucking, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, recording, cum swallowing, cum eating, praise, muscle and size kink if you squint but that’s guaranteed in a mingyu fic 😭😭

summary: you and mingyu get into a fight over his bad habits, angst and smut ensues

wc: 2.7k

you’ve always hated the fights mingyu got himself into. he’d come home almost every week, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. this time wasn’t any different, it was past midnight by this point, and you were curled up on the couch watching a random movie in an attempt to distract yourself from your growing worries. mingyu is usually home by this point.

a few more minutes go by and mingyu stumbles through the door with more injuries than usual. he sets his key down as you frantically walk towards him, noticing the way be avoids your eyes, “gyu.. your face, your bleeding everywhere.” he gives you a cold stare, his face battered and bloodied, and he brushes past you, going towards the bathroom where your med-kit usually was.

“yeah that’s the whole point y/n, it’s called street fighting for a reason.” you knew he wasn’t actually mad at you, just pent up anger from years of fighting, and especially tonight. scanning his whole body, the bright bathroom lighting allowing for you to see all his cuts and wounds more closely.

he slipped off his shirt, a huge bruise starting to form on the left side of his torso. “..you sure you didn’t break something?” your hand coming up to lightly stroke his ribs, mingyu’s anger blinding him from leaning into your warm touch.

“no, and why do you care so much anyway? it’s not like this is the first time.”

you tipped your head to the side, a ‘what’s that smell’ expression laid on your face, “what kind of question is that? i care because you’re my boyfriend, of course i’m gonna be worried.” your voice was nothing short of angry, your eyebrows almost meeting in the middle due to your frustration.

“you shouldn’t be.”

“uhh? yes i should, i’m tired of seeing you walk in here everyday with new cuts to clean. and your ribs.. mingyu you need to go see a doctor.”

“look y/n, i’ve been doing this for years—“

“well i think you should stop.”

it was deathly quiet, and mingyu’s hand holding a cotton pad paused in the air as he stared at you through the mirror. only the whirring sound of your ac being heard to combat the july heat. mingyu looked at you for a bit, chuckling to himself as his tongue poked through the side of his cheek, grabbing the gauze out of the med-kit and wrapping it around his knuckles.

“what’s so fucking funny?”

“oh nothing just that fact that you think you can tell me what to do.”

“yeah i’ll you what to do if it means not having you die in some alleyway.”

“please y/n, it never goes that far.”

“look at yourself! you basically limped in here, and i tried to help you but now you act like i’m a bitch for being worried about you?” you yelled.

mingyu finished up the gauze as he dropped everything and grabbed his shirt, walking towards the door. he left with a slam, not even caring to bid you goodbye, or kiss you and say ‘i love you’ like he always does.

the post-anger tears started streaming down your face. you knew he was probably gonna go crash at minghao’s, yet even with how frustrated you were, you still couldn’t help but worry and think about mingyu going to sleep untreated.

-

9:02 PM

(5) missed calls

gyu?

mingyu im sorry

are you okay? did minghao get you painkillers?

please dont fight again, at least take some time to let ur body rest :((

a full day had gone by. guilt stirred in mingyu’s stomach as he stared at his phone screen. he was the one who should be apologizing, not you.

he sighed, shutting off his phone and getting up. he knew he had to face you at some point.

“you leaving?”

mingyu hummed, shuffling into his shoes and heading out the door as minghao yelled out a goodbye. mingyu hopped in his car, letting the silence engulf him.

when mingyu walked into the apartment he noticed how dim it was, assuming you were asleep. he took his shoes off as quietly as possible, making his way to your guys’ shared bedroom. he heard a muffled voice, noting that the door was only half closed, peeking into the crack.

he saw you, adorned in one of his hoodies that was much too big for you, sleeves bunched up at your wrists and the hem coming down to your mid-thigh, naked legs on full display.

you paced around the room and it looked like you were on the phone with someone, the voice being hard to identify.

“did he say anything to you when he left?”

“nah, he just walked out.”

oh. it was minghao.

“shit, um, he didn’t even mention where he was going?”

mingyu heard the panic in your voice and the way your forefinger and thumb came to rub at your temples. he walked in as your eyes shot up to look at him, not hesitating to hang up on minghao, throwing your phone on the bed and running to jump into mingyu’s arms.

“oh my god mingyu!” you looked up at him and immediately started hitting him, “stupid! stupid! stupid! i hate you!” each hit enunciating your words, feeling like nothing but weak taps to mingyu. tears spilled out of your eyes, as mingyu only hugged you closer, hand coming up to pet your hair as the other cradled your head into his chest. he heard your muffled sniffing, his heart breaking at the stress he caused you.

“shhh i know, i know i’m stupid. i’m sorry baby.”

“you’re so mean! why didn’t you at least text me back? do you know how scared i was?” your voice broke, looking up at him with swollen eyes.

“i ..” mingyu paused, his hands coming down to hold your face, “i know i fucked up, i was too embarrassed to face you, afraid that you’d end things with me, which i would’ve probably deserved. i’m so, so sorry angel, i know no amount of apologizing will take away your worries, and i know i should’ve stayed and talked things out with you”

his thumb came to wipe away your falling tear, your hands hooking around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. he instantly reciprocated, hands traveling down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close so that your bodies were flush against each other.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry for raising my voice at you.” you mumbled into his mouth, mingyu backing away to confusedly look at you.

“why are you apologizing? don’t say sorry baby, you should’ve slapped me as soon as i walked through that door.”

you giggled, looking down as you felt something press into your stomach, “you’re hard? really? got hard at the thought of me slapping you?” you teased.

“loooook..” mingyu looked away bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

“ew, you’re such a weirdo.” you said, slipping off mingyu’s hoodie to reveal a white tank top, your hard nipples poking through the thin fabric. you dropped down to your knees, fingers going straight to work untying your boyfriend’s sweatpants and pulling them down, along with his boxers, to his knees.

“oh, shit, hold on— you don’t have to do that baby.” mingyu hooked his hands underneath your armpits, attempting to pull you up being cut off by you stroking him.

“please, i want to.”

mingyu hesitated but was soon slapping his tip against your cheek, cooing at the way your head followed to try and get it in your mouth. finally he put it where you wanted, circling your tongue around the sensitive head. mingyu’s head lulled back, letting out a groan.

you took all of him into your mouth at once, his tip consistently hitting your uvula as you bobbed your head, twisting your hand on the base of his cock.

“fuck juuust like that baby, shit, h-have you been practicing on other guys or something?”

you laughed, only causing you to choke on his length, hitting his thigh as punishment for making you laugh while doing something that literally constricts your airflow.

“okay, okay, no more jokes, got it.” mingyu snickered, his gauzed hand grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you came off of him with a pop, wiping off the drool dripping down your chin with the back of your hand, “gyu, u-use my mouth.”

mingyu smiled smugly, wordlessly grabbing ahold of your head with his other hand before shallowly thrusting into your wet mouth.

it wasn’t long before his length was ramming into your throat, breathless fuck’s and just like that’s leaving his cut lips. he was scared to even look down, afraid that if he saw your fucked out face he’d cum too quick.

you’re eyes looked up at him, tendrils of hair slipping past mingyu’s hold due to the sheer speed at which his hips slammed into your mouth.

“christ y/n, you look s’pretty like this, gon’ let daddy take a picture?”

you moaned at the label he placed on himself, nodding around his cock, eyes never leaving his sweat and scab covered face. mingyu pulled out his phone, angling the camera at your face. a red box with white numbers ascending appearing at the top of his screen.

“it’s a video baby, you don’t mind do you?” mingyu laughed when you attempted to hum a nuh-uh, only a string of muffled gags being heard. you were so wet, clit aching to be touched. you inched your hand down to touch yourself, drawing quick, fast circles.

“of course you don’t, so perfect, take my dick so well”

mingyu realized what it was you were doing to your lower half, “y’touching yourself? don’t worry daddy will fill y’up nice and good after this, j-jus’ let me cum in your mouth pretty.”

with a few final thrusts, and the erratic spasming of mingyu’s hips, you felt his hot cum travel down your throat, hollowing your cheeks as you slurped every last drop.

your knees ached as mingyu pulled you up, ending the video and hastily putting it in his hidden folder. he pulled you into a kiss, “did so good f’me baby, you always know how to spoil me.” he spoke into your mouth, tasting his own release.

“w-wanna ride you,” you huffed out, breathless. mingyu grinned, the right side of his face being the only indication of it, while the left was so mangled you couldn’t tell what expression he was even making. whoever he fought got him good.

“you sure? don’t tire yourself doll.”

“i’m sure!” you said grabbing mingyu’s hand, dragging him to the bed.

“whatever you say cutie,” mingyu let out a strangled breath while lowering himself down onto the bed, his torso still extremely sore, and his head perched up against the headboard. you quickly pulled down your shorts and panties as you swung your leg over his thighs, leaning down to kiss him.

you hand raked over his chest and chiseled abs, fingers dipping into each and every crevice as mingyu’s tongue explored your mouth. you pulled back and grabbed a hold of his flushed cock, rubbing it along your folds as your slick dripped down his length, a whimper leaving your lips.

“shit.” he hissed, staring intently as you paused your ministrations to line yourself up, slowly sinking down. you stared down at where you were taking him in, brushing the hair out of your face to get a better look. mingyu’s mouth fell agape, “you’re so fucking tight,” watching as a bulge slowly formed just below your belly button. even after the countless times you and mingyu had had sex, he was always just so big, your tiny pussy barely taking him in each time.

you finally looked up, mingyu’s eyes meeting your own. “jus’ gimme a sec gyu, you’re s-so big,” you said breathlessly.

mingyu smirked cockily, “take your time gorgeous.” his hands soothingly rubbing you’re plush thighs.

you bounced slowly, feeling each vein of his cock drag against your walls, tiny gasps leaving your lips. mingyu let you control the pace for a bit, allowing for you to adjust to his size. but he was getting impatient, his hands coming down to grip the sides of your hips, his four digits digging themselves into your ass before lifting you up and slamming you back down, the movement knocking the wind of you, making your jaw go slack.

“fuck!” your head hung low, hands coming up to grip his broad, muscly shoulders for support, watching out for any bruises.

“that’s it baby, just hold onto daddy and let him make y’feel good.”

mingyu’s pace was animalistic, his hold on you hard enough to leave an imprint. you were shocked as to how he had this much energy considering what his body had endured a night ago.

tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. the curve of his cock aligning just right with your g-spot. “oh my fff-fucking god! mingyu please, ha-harder!”

you didn’t even know if it was possible to go harder, but mingyu managed to slam you down with even more force then before. a bead of sweat ran down his tan neck, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he stared up at you with hooded eye. his hips thrust upwards to meet you halfway, causing you to let out mangled gasps and moans. you were sure he was puncturing your lungs by this point. no inch of your pussy was left unexplored, squishy pink walls molded perfectly to hug his cock.

“jus’ like that gorgeous, your pussy was made f’me.”

“s-soo deep daddy, feel you in my tummy..” you whined out as you saw mingyu grin, canines on display, his hand coming up to grab yours, placing your hand on the bulge on your stomach, almost cumming right there when you felt the bump.

“fuck, you jus’ got so tight, y-you like when daddy pokes your tummy like that?”

you nodded frantically, tears flowing down your hot, pink cheeks, “i-i’m gon—na cum, g-gonna cum!” you struggled to get the words out, mingyu understanding you nonetheless.

“cum with me baby, gon’ let daddy cum in you?”

“fuck, yes d-daddy, want you to fill me up so bad, p-put a .. a baby in me,” mingyu loved how dirty your mouth got every time you were close to coming. his right hand pressed onto the small of your back, causing you to arch into him. his mouth was at perfect level with your nipples, taking your tit into his mouth and circling the hard nub with his tongue.

the pleasure was all too much, and with a few more hard thrusts your hole was spasming around his thick base, clenching and unclenching, mingyu’s mouth detaching from your breast as he looked up at you, his eyes shutting tightly as hot cum shot into your pussy.

“shiiiit, you’re milking me baby.” mingyu said, still grinding your hips onto him as he rode out both of your orgasms.

you reluctantly lifted yourself off of him, feeling some of mingyu’s cum drip down your thigh, scooping it with your index and middle finger and licking it off as you cuddled into his side, his arm laid across your shoulder.

mingyu watched as you cleaned him off your fingers, smoothing your disheveled hair. “such a good girl, not letting any of daddy’s cum go to waste.” he said as he booped your nose.

you giggled, “you okay though, gyu? d-does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, still breathless from your fresh orgasm.

“don’t worry about me doll, are you feeling okay? did i go too hard?”

“mm-hm, just a lil’ sore,” you snuggled closer.

“a shower should help ease y’up,” mingyu swung his feet over the bed, getting up as he reached his hand out, “think you can walk?”

“nooo i need my big, strong boyfriend to help carry me,” you joked, climbing into mingyu’s arms as he threw you over his shoulder, landing a playful slap on your ass.

“asshole! i’m not helping you replace your bandages.” mingyu could hear the pout in your voice, laughing as he made his way to the bathroom.

@yongvillage | thank you for reading!

[inkdrinkerworld]

High Hopes 3

part one part two

cw: reader comes from a very tense and abusive home, verbal abuse, allusion to physical abuse, bad sibling relationships, fluff, angst, Remus is a sweetheart and the best almost bf ever

wc: 7.5k

Remus: On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I said I found out your birthday passed and got you a gift?

You read the text as you’re exiting your class building and frown. Your birthday passed just after the new year, and you hadn’t told Remus because you hadn’t even been in the country. 

In lieu of an answer, you call him. Remus picks up on the second ring. 

“What did you get me?” He laughs down the line and you feel your stomach twist into knots. 

“Hello to you too, princess.” Since the Summer weekend sleepover thing (you’d still not decided what to call it), Remus had decided that was your new nickname and as much as you pretended to hate it, you loved it more than the others. 

“Hi Remus,” you breathe, eyes on the street as you cross and begin the walk back to your apartment. “What did you get me?” 

You can just tell he’s shaking his head. “It’s a present, why would I spoil that surprise?” 

“Because I’m impatient?” You rebut quickly. The walk back to your apartment is short, but the lingering winter makes it feel never ending. 

It also doesn’t help that you’d chosen style over cosiness- you’re in a long sleeved baby blue dress and a pair of boots that barely lick past your ankles. 

“I’m at your apartment, dove. I’ll give it to you when you get here.” 

Your eyes widen at the same time your heart constricts. “Remus, I’ve got like ten minutes left on my walk back!” 

As easily as he suggests anything to you, “Do you want me to come get you? It’s minus four right now.” 

“No, that wouldn’t make any sense,” you hear his car start. “Remus Lupin, I’m serious, I’m like one street away.” 

“So I’ll cut your walk short,” The engine roars across the line. “It’s cold, baby.” The fondness in his voice and his sparsely given ‘baby’ is what makes you stop. 

“Fine,” you try to sound much grumpier than you are and fail. “I’m at the coffee shop on the left.” 

Ten seconds later, Remus is there; his grey car collecting droplets of fine snow. 

“Hi,” you say as you slide in the passenger seat, your hands rubbing together making Remus frown. 

“And you wanted to finish the walk.” He flicks on the heating as he turns and goes back where he came. 

“How did you find out about my birthday?” You ask, fiddling with your bag to get out your water bottle. 

“Marlene mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to spend it with her this year and I asked when it was.” 

You hum, “It’s a little inconvenient having your birthday just after the new year,” Remus looks at you funny. “I like winter, don’t get me wrong, but a spring birthday would’ve been ideal. Like maybe in March.” 

He rolls his eyes, pulling into your parking lot. 

“How do you know when mine is?” He asks, helping you out of the car and then grabbing a bag out of the backseat. 

“Sirius and James talk a lot. Your gift is currently in transit.” 

Remus’ eyes shoot up, “When have you been hanging out with those two?” The ‘without me’ is implied and you look at him with a sly smile. 

“Jealous, Remus?” 

He tuts, figuring you out immediately. “You’re not winding me up, princess.” He holds the door open for you as you walk in and Remus sighs as he gets a whiff of your newest perfume. 

The couple of times he’s been to see you since the start of the semester, you’ve been wearing this intoxicatingly creamy vanilla perfume that has just a touch of something spicy to it that has been driving him mad. 

“Why would I be winding you up?” You toe off your boots and then look at him. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower known to man, but there’s food in the fridge and cookies in a Tupperware somewhere on the counter.” 

Remus shakes his head, setting his shoes beside yours. “I’ll wait for you, take your time.” 

You’re out of the bathroom in twenty minutes, in a matching jewel blue set of loungewear and a pair of socks. 

Your hair is tied back exposing a tiny tattoo behind your ear that Remus wants desperately to kiss. He’s on his laptop when you get out, typing away at what you assume is his book.

Remus doesn’t go here, he’s got a fancy writing degree already and he’s got an editing gig that he tries playing off as no big deal- but it is. 

He’s on ‘vacation’ though- meaning, he’s been on sick leave for the last four days so he can spend your first week back at school with you. Not that you know he’s been using his sick days for you. 

“Is roti okay? My mama dropped off some this morning.” Remus has yet to meet the old woman, but the fondness that overtakes your tone lets him know she’s at least half as lovely as you. 

“It’s perfect, dove. What do you want to look at?” He sets about finding your newest psychological thriller- Hannibal- and then makes his way into the kitchen to help you. 

“How was your day? I forgot to ask.” You mumble as you crack the ice into glasses before Remus pours some soda into them. 

“It was alright, got a couple more pages done of the book and then got high with Sirius.” 

You smile, a quiet smile that Remus thinks is going to stop his heart. “How was your classes?” 

You groan, “Long, boring and even longer.” He chuckles, leaving you to bring the glasses while he brings both plates to the living room. 

Remus sits in the corner of the sofa, he isn’t as slick as he thinks he is for sitting with a clearer view of the front door than you have. 

You appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. 

“Can I open the gift first?” Remus watches you with a rapt curiosity. He thinks you’re akin to a kid on Christmas- eyes bright, and hands shaking as you practically bounce in your seat. 

“Yeah baby,” he can’t help the sticky affection that slowly coats his words- an affection that only grows and spreads like warm honey. 

Remus watches you carefully tear the wrapping paper off the gift, his lips quirked just so as he watches your jaw drop. 

“You didn’t,” you murmur, shock and disbelief in your voice as you pull the wooden box out of the wrapping paper. 

“Open it,” the box in your lap is walnut colored, carved with spirals, flowers and dots and divots. The carvings are coloured in bright reds, oranges, yellows and some pinks. 

The lock resembles an ancient rusted clasp lock and as you unlatch it and reveal rows and stairs of chains. 

“Remus,” your voice is all clogged up and your bottom lip trembles and Remus wonders if he’s overdone it. 

“Yeah?” Your fingers trail along the crystal chips on the chains and you find your heart has cracked open. 

“This is the loveliest gift I’ve ever gotten,” the words are whispered into the air, your dinners cold as you take in every single chain in the box. “They’re for my glasses, yeah?”

“They are, pretty girl.” 

Silently, you close the box and put it to the side. “Thank you,” you blink and your tears tumble down your cheeks. His hands reach to wipe your cheeks gently. 

“You’re welcome.” You climb into his lap, Remus’ hands hold your hips. 

“You know you’re the first person since Marlene to get me something thoughtful?” 

Remus knows it’s meant to be a flippant comment, but his heart breaks for you. 

“Dove,” your heart clenches. “You’re breaking my heart.” His hands move up to cup your cheeks.

“I don’t mean to,” you say softly, shrugging one shoulder but Remus sees past the nonchalance you’re trying to exude. He doesn’t understand how someone as lovely as you has been treated so weirdly. 

He gives you an out though because he doesn’t want to push and push and push, “C’mon princess. Eat your dinner.” You take it and your plate as you press play. 

Remus notices you don’t move out of his lap but only smiles when you turn and start eating. 

“You’re staying the night?” You ask after you’ve both finished your dinner. 

Remus inhales, “What time is your first class tomorrow?” 

You pull away from him a little, “Eleven,” you have a hopeful look on your face that makes his answer easy. 

“Yeah I’ll stay the night.” 

You smile so big Remus thinks his heart stops. 

Then you get serious, “Wait, how do you feel about sharing the bed?” You ask the question softly, and Remus frowns. 

“I’ve shared the bed with you before, dove.” 

You shake your head, “I have a um,” you stumble for the words. Remus smiles. 

“A stuffy?” He asks quietly and you nod, nibbling away on your bottom lip. 

“Yeah a little yellow duckie,” Remus’ smile only widens. 

“That’s sweet, dove.” 

“You don’t think it’s silly?” He shakes his head. 

“How come I didn’t see it when we were at the other house?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your thighs. 

“I put him back in my suitcase, and I felt really bad about it too. I left it unzipped a little,” Remus kisses your temple as he chuckles. 

“You’re the sweetest fucking thing in the world.” 

Changing the conversation, “Do you want chai?” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up, “You have chai or do you need to make it?” 

You shake your head, a tired smile that’s a little teasing, “Jamie dropped it off for me when he came to see Lils.” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up even farther, “Jamie?” 

You giggle, “Yeah, s’what you guys call him.” 

Remus is a little indignant, “Jamie?” He repeats and you laugh even more. 

“Are you jealous, Remus?” 

Your hand reaches to the nape of his neck, twisting the sandy brown hair there as he deliberates. 

“Of James getting a nickname?” He asks and you nod, letting your fingers scratch his scalp a little. “No dove,” Remus fights the shiver that threatens to climb his back. “I’m not even a little jealous,” 

He leans into you, your noses bumping. “Why not?” Your breaths mingle as you lean even closer to Remus. 

“Because,” his hand cups your neck, his thumbs punching your chin upwards. Your chest heaves, “You’re already breathless and I haven’t even kissed you yet, princess.” 

“Please.” 

Remus smirks, wicked and impish. “No,” you whine and Remus almost rethinks his answer. “Go heat up your chai, pretty girl.” 

“You’re no fun,” you hop off his lap and head to the kitchen all the while Remus chuckles, his head against the back of the cushions as he watches you flit about the kitchen. 

-

The next time Remus sees you it’s after possibly one of the worst days of your life in a long time. Everything had gone wrong and there’d been a pit in your stomach all the way to your apartment. 

Just as you were about to walk in, your phone rang and without looking, you answered it. 

“Why does that boy keep going to your apartment?” 

You pull the phone from your ear and curse softly when you see, ‘Devil’s Right Hand,’ displayed on the screen. 

“What?” You really don’t have the energy today. 

Your father doesn’t seem to care though, “The boy. The one with the grey car.” 

As if you’re ten and not a grown ass woman, “Because we’re friends.” 

Simple, succinct and it would’ve been sufficient for any other regular parent. 

Your dad is anything but. 

“And he doesn’t leave till the morning? Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

The ‘yes’ in your brain wants so badly to slide off your tongue. You manage to bite it back. 

“I don’t understand the problem. I’m an adult, I can do as I please. You don’t even pay for the apartment, Mama does.” 

You hear the low simmering anger in your father’s tone. “Your grandmother gives you too much leeway.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’m not in the mood for a fight, was that all you wanted to know?” 

“Girl, watch your tone, it’s not a long drive to your place.” 

You shiver at the threat. “Can I go please? I have coursework to do and I’ve got exams to prep for later this week.” 

“Oh sure, coursework. Come home this weekend, your grandparents are at the house on Sunday.” 

Your body sags as you hang up the phone, the backs of your eyes burn with exhaustion. 

With a sigh, you unlock the door and get into your apartment. 

You don’t even bother to change or sit still, instead you just jump straight into your work; hours pass before your phone rings again. 

This time, it’s Remus.

“Hey,” he doesn’t like your tone, or the way you sigh the word. 

“Hi dove, I’m outside.” 

You’re relieved when you see him. He looks warm and cosy. His hair looks pillow soft and his sweater is a faded yellow one against the brown of his corduroy jeans. 

“I brought snacks,” he says, jingling a plastic bag in his hand.

You don’t smile quite as big as you normally would’ve and Remus frowns. “Long day?” He asks as he steps in, kissing your forehead when you nod. 

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up my coursework and we can have dinner.” 

Remus waits for you, busying himself with plating up dinner- leftover Chinese food from yesterday. 

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as he sets both plates on the coffee table and starts the tv. “Have some food and then get back to it if you like, but I need you to eat.” 

You look to argue, but he’s not commanding you. He’s not demanding anything from you, he’s nudging you to look after yourself. 

For a moment, you get stuck in just looking at him and your mind whirs. Remus is unlike anyone else in your life- he doesn’t take, he doesn’t shout and make threats, he doesn’t force you into a box or anything of the sort. 

Instead, he gives you room and watches you, watches you be yourself and encourages you to be yourself. It makes you emotional for a minute, the back of your throat burning as you come to the realisation. 

 “Coming,” you whisper, Remus’ eyes track your movements, and he smiles a little when you sit right up beside him, your forearms brushing. 

Dinner is quiet, little conversation here and there because Remus can tell you’re exhausted. 

In that sense, he washes up the dishes while you shower and he tidies up the living room before double checking your door is locked. 

He’s pouring hot water over the tea bags when you come out of your room, dressed in the softest look pyjamas he’s ever seen. 

“Oh you look cosy, princess.” You go bashful under the lovestruck tone to his words, walking into the arms he has open. 

One hand goes to the base of your neck, holding firm as his other hand squeezes around your back. 

“Tired?” He whispers into your hair and you hum. 

“I can have a cuppa though, not that tired.” 

You barely make it halfway through your cup before your eyes are closing and your head is lolling onto Remus’ shoulder. 

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, setting his cup down and sliding his hands under your thighs and around your back. “S’okay dove,” he coos as you stir, your nose brushed up to his neck as he walks to your bedroom. 

“Stay,” you mumble as he sets you down and Remus smiles. 

“M’right here dovey, not going a place.”

Remus wakes up to you moving around in bed, your legs kicking and your body thrashing. 

“Hey,” he croaks, voice cracking from sleep. “Dovey,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing your arm. “Baby wake up.” 

His nose brushes your cheek, hands shaking your shoulder a bit as your tossing worsens. 

“Wake up dove,” he whispers, stroking your neck. 

“Remus?” Your voice shakes, eyes open wide as you try to get your bearings.

“It’s me baby, I’m right here.” Your heart is racing as you sit up, Remus following suit. 

“Sorry,” you whimper, brushing your cheeks as you feel tears fall. Remus flicks on your lamp and his eyebrows thread together.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” He tucks you into his side. “Wanna talk to me about it?” 

His hand creeps under your shirt, his knuckles dragging up and down your spine. 

“Was just a dream,” you whisper, not quite sounding yourself. “A bad dream.” 

Remus nods, “Yeah, it was just a dream, pretty girl. Your pulse is pounding though, babe.” He can feel the harsh beat of it against the knuckles on your back. 

You shut your eyes, reliving the scenes in the dream vividly. 

“It’s a recurring thing,” you start, letting yourself be comforted by Remus’ hand on your back and the faint scent of his citrus soap. “I’m little again and my dad is blue mad, breaking glass and screaming in my face.” 

You take a shuddering breath and Remus tries his best not to react with his body. 

“I was about ten or eleven I think, by that time our relationship wasn’t salvageable. I can’t even remember what he was so upset about but I always seemed like the perfect target. ‘Specially when I started telling him off for being mean to my mum.” 

“Baby this was real?” You nod, Remus lets himself for a moment, imagine little you stopping grown adults from arguing and he feels his chest tighten at the thought. 

“He tried coming at me and mum with a piece of the glass. It was just a mess. The fight only stopped because our neighbours came to get me.” 

He feels your tears wet his shirt, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’ve started shaking again. 

“You’re alright baby,” his words sound like a promise whispered into your hairline. “You don’t have to go back to that, I swear you don’t.” 

“I think the reason I had a nightmare was because he called earlier. Said to come home on Sunday and that he knew you were staying over.” 

Remus can’t stop himself from stiffening then. He hates the frustration and defeat in your voice. 

“Do you want me to come with you on Sunday?” The offer is as easy as the breath he inhales. 

You look up at him, eyelashes wet and stuck together, lips and cheeks swollen from crying. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Remus smiles- a sad smile. 

“You didn’t ask,” he kisses your nose. “Think about it okay? I won’t be offended if you say no, pretty girl.” 

You nod and tuck yourself back into him. 

“Do you think you can go back to sleep or do you wanna watch something?” 

You think for a long time, “Will you hold me till I fall asleep?” 

God his heart really is breaking. Who could hurt you? 

“Till you wake up, dove.” 

Remus wakes up before you do, his arms still wrapped around you, and you’re more on his chest than on the bed. 

His mind wakes faster than his body, racing with thoughts of little you and the things you’ve lived. He finds that you hide it well. The hurt, the pain, the everything. One look at you wouldn’t reveal that, all anyone would see is a rich girl living with her parents and doing whatever she pleases; but under the surface? 

You’re so like everyone else, but so singular that it stops his breath a little. 

You don’t have class today, so he decides quite quickly that he’s letting you sleep in. The only thing you have to do is finish the last bit of your coursework and then Remus thinks a day doing your favourite things- shopping for books and having tea- is in order. 

He also wants to start breakfast, you’d mentioned a couple nights ago that you’d been craving blueberries and he’d had a hankering for pancakes. 

Remus tries moving out from under you but your fist closes around his shirt and he stays put. 

Breakfast can wait a bit. 

“Remmy?” You wake shortly after, the sunlight peeking through the curtains tickling your eyes. 

“Yes, dove?” His hand is stroking your arm, his blunt fingernails dragging slowly makes it hard for you to open your eyes. 

“Time is it?” You stretch as he reaches for his phone. 

“Just gone past ten,” you settle right back into his chest with a sigh. 

“Can you wake me up again at eleven?” You ask at the same time Remus asks, 

“Do you wanna go out for breakfast?” 

You hum, “What’re we having?” 

A yawn tears apart his answer, “Blueberry pancakes? Or bagels? Either or, I don’t mind.” 

“Are you making pancakes?” He can already tell where the question is headed. 

“Yes, do you have everything for them?” You nod then you shake your head. 

“Except the blueberries.” 

Remus pulls you and the covers a little closer. “Want me to go in to the grocery and get them?” You shake your head. 

“I’ll settle for whatever fruit I’ve got in the house.” Remus tuts. 

“Would you prefer blueberries?” He asks, his fingers dancing across the nape of your neck. 

“Yeah,” that’s all he needed to hear. 

“I’ll make you some tea and head out,” Remus isn’t allowed to slide out from under you, your thigh on his hip pins him down.

“You don’t have to,” you say bashfully, an intense guilt that’s completely unnecessary creeps into your voice and Remus has to slide his hands to your neck and push your chin up under your jaw. 

“You’re not inconveniencing me, pretty girl. I’m getting them, coming back here and making pancakes and then we’re going either to the beach or the bookstore.” 

You shake your head as best as you can with Remus holding your jaw. “You don’t have to do all of this just because I had a bad dream.” 

He tuts, “I want to take care of you. I’ll just be fifteen minutes.” 

You nod, accepting your defeat in the argument. 

In the time Remus is gone, you find yourself going through photo albums and reminiscing on the days when things were a lot easier. 

You stop on a picture of you and your grandmother and you sigh. Grabbing your phone, you dial her number. 

“Hello, Mama?” Your voice wavers as you speak. 

“Yes, Bebo?” You smile at the sound of her voice. Instantly, you feel like you’re being swaddled in her arms and like your troubles are eased. Your home name falling from her mouth with such familiarity also makes your chest ache. 

“I’m having trouble,” you say honestly. “I don’t know how to forgive anymore.” 

She sighs, you can hear shuffling in the back and things knocking about and then you hear your grandmother’s voice. “Bebo, you don’t have to forgive everybody.” She says, and you sniffle. “Not everyone needs that, or deserves that.” When you don’t answer she worries. You and your grandmother have an insanely close relationship, summers were spent in her back garden and on the beach near her house. She knows you as well as you can know any person. 

“Do you want me to come over? I can bring you lunch.” You take a minute to consider and know in your heart of hearts that she would be on her way if you said yes. 

“No,” you take the conversation to a different direction quickly. “Are you coming over on Sunday? Dad said.” 

You can hear the smile in her voice, “Yeah, I miss my grandkids, Bebo.” 

You’d seen her just three days ago but it feels like a month ago. “I miss you too, Mama. Would it be weird if I brought someone for dinner?” 

She gasps, always one for a good bit of gossip. “Like a boyfriend? Bebo, I’ve been waiting for this!” She sounds so excited that the image of her smiling wide behind her glasses warms your heart. 

“You don’t think dad will make it a thing?” 

She puffs out air, “Your dad would make the sun coming out a thing if he wanted to. I need you to not live your life according to him, Bebo. He’s my son, but he’s a little shit and he doesn’t rule you or anyone else.” 

You sigh, chest shaking under the weight of your withheld thoughts. 

“Is that why you don’t want me coming over? Your boyfriend is over?” You giggle, feeling weirdly like she’s right beside you as you tuck your phone between your cheek and shoulder. 

“He went to get blueberries because I wanted pancakes, and he’s not my boyfriend, Mama.” She scoffs, you smile. 

“But you like him and he’s nice?” 

“Super nice, like tooth rotting nice. And he’s really gentle and calm too.” 

You can see your grandmother’s smile, and find yourself doing the same. Even more so when you hear the knock on your door. 

“You deserve nice, gentle and calm, Bebo. I’m sorry I couldn’t have kept you kids for longer.” 

“Mama,” you gasp the words as you look through the peephole and find Remus standing there with the groceries. “You did and are doing enough. You’re not in charge of his actions, he is.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow as he sees your glassy eyes as he steps into the apartment. 

“I know Bebo, I know.” 

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you to let you know if I’m coming okay? If I am, would you bring,” she cuts you off. 

“Of course I’ll bring you coconut fudge Bebo, I’ll make it on Saturday so it doesn’t get stale.” 

Remus starts about the kitchen, but you can tell he’s intrigued about the conversation- or at the least, who you’re on the phone with. 

“Thanks Mama, I love you.” You see a little smile break out of his face even as he faces away from you to measure the flour. 

“I love you too Bebo, go enjoy your boyfriend.” You laugh scandalously and hear her chuckle before you hang up. 

“How’s your grandma?” Remus asks as you come into the kitchen and sit on the counter near him. 

“She’s good. I called her to talk about the nightmare but I kept getting too sad so we just talked about other stuff.” You swing your feet as you watch Remus mix the wet and dry ingredients. 

“Is she also going to dinner on Sunday?” He poses it conversationally, because it is but he also wants a feel for who’s there at these dinners. 

You nod, stealing a blueberry from the carton. “She’s always there. I think she comes because she knows if she’s there my dad will be in check for the whole night;” you smile when you eat the blueberry and find it’s sweet. “She’s pretty scary when she needs to be.” 

“I don’t doubt that, dove. You’re the same way, can tell there’s a little fire behind all that niceness.” 

You roll your eyes, “Whatever you say Lupin,” Remus sets your griddle on and oils it as it heats up. “Would you really want to come on Sunday?” 

He pours three pancakes on, “Unless I have to do something strange, then yes I want to come.” 

“If I told you that there was an initiation process that everyone’s super anal about, that would be a deal breaker?” Remus looks at you wide eyed and then notices your poorly hidden smile. 

“You’re a menace.” He says as he flips the pancakes, another raucous laugh bubbling out of you. 

“On occasion.” Remus stacks three for you and reaches for the syrup in the cupboard above your head. “But Mama, my granny, will probably badger you about your ‘intentions’ and whatever else.” 

You thank Remus for the pancakes with a kiss on his cheek. “Eat,” he says, cutting your pancakes for you, making you smile. “I can handle badgering. But I should warn you, I don’t hide anger well.” 

You wave off his concern. “Oh he won’t be out of line, Mama keeps him in check. And I just ignore him anyways.” Remus doesn’t like the way you shrug like your dad being a prick is no big deal, but he decides you’ve shared enough for the day. 

You don’t start eating till he makes his own stack and switches off the stove and that makes him smile a little. 

“Do you have a preference for the beach or the bookstore?” He asks in between bites of breakfast. 

You think for a moment, “Can we go to the bookstore? There’s a couple books I want to check on.” 

Remus nods, not really caring where you go, just that you do something you like. 

-

You decide against Remus joining you, not sure if you’re ready for him to see the circus that is your family. 

Your Mama is on the front porch, sipping what you know is coffee as you get out your car. 

You send Remus a text, Made it. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

His response is immediate, My offer to come get you is always on the table, princess

“Where’s your boyfriend?”She asks, standing to hug you.

“Told him that it might be too much, didn’t want to scare him off.” You try to sound as chipper as possible, but your grandmother knows you. 

“He’s not in control of you anymore, Bebo. You can’t give it to him.” 

You nod, diverting the conversation. “How’d the fudge turn out?” 

You have a couple bricks with her and your older brother in the garden out back before they’re ready to serve dinner. 

There’s a quiet stillness that covers the remaining winter, the coffee and coconut milk fudge just enough to make it seem like the tranquillity could last forever. 

“Mama said you have a boyfriend?” your older brother asks, protectiveness and amusement in his tone as you look up at him wide eyed and shocked. 

“I told her he’s not my boyfriend. Not yet.” 

“She really wants him to be. He made her pancakes and he spent the night.” You tut at your grandmother’s gossiping. 

Your brother smiles, “I’d like to meet him sometime, you look happy again.” You just nod, scared that you might say something that gives away how much you really really like Remus. 

“Dinner’s ready,” your mum comes out on the porch, giving all three of you a soft smile before going back in. 

Dinner is great until the round-the-table questions get to you. You’d avoided it for a couple courses, but it appears your luck is out. 

“How was your coursework?” Your dad says it like it was an actual lie, you don’t miss the vile amusement in his tone, like he’s waiting to catch you in a lie.

“Lots of reading, but I think I got above 85 which is great considering this professor is known for failing students for less than 75.” 

Your dad isn’t satisfied. “What was it about?” 

You stiffen in your chair, you don’t like the implication that you’re lying. “Capital punishment, recidivism and how the two coincide.” 

Your mum can tell your dad is still not pleased, so can your grandmother and she sets him right with a look. 

“Do you need her professors to start running their coursework topics through you? Are you going to call the school next because you disbelieve everything?” 

The table is tense as your grandmother and your dad have a stare off- not that she’s at all concerned about him. 

Your younger siblings feed off your dad’s energy, their own question hot and ready and aimed at anyone with answers.

 “How is it fair that she moved out?” And “Why does Mama pay for her apartment and not just tell her to move back home? It’s silly how much she’ll do for attention.” Or “Maybe if she just came home dad wouldn’t be so upset?” You can’t even get a word in, stunned silent as you realise this is how they see you.

It’s when your younger brother and sister say, “You always make it about you, you’re Mama’s favourite and that pisses us off. Dad doesn’t like you because you think you’re better than us, and it would all be better if you just made a clear decision- do you want to be in the family or not?”, that your breath quickens at their words, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. 

The part that hurts is that they’re too young to know all the things that have happened, they don’t get why it’s so hard for you to sit here even on bi-weekly Sunday dinners and play nice with your dad.

Your food suddenly loses taste when your dad sends an evil smile your way, your stomach rolling.

They don’t understand that you’ve taken their beatings, that you’ve suffered horrid treatment just so they wouldn’t have to.

“Either way, we don’t care. I think we’d be better off without you if I’m honest. All you do is mope and complain, you wouldn’t even have half the shit you do if it wasn’t for dad. He’s not the monster you make him out to be.” 

Your older brother cut them glares, “Enough! You don’t speak for this entire table, find somewhere else to be.” They scamper off, your brother doesn’t even give your dad the time of day, he looks at you immediately. 

“Go take a walk, Bebo.” He’s the only one of them that likes you, the only out of three siblings that actually knows you, that knows what this is doing to you and you’re grateful for it. 

Mama sparks into heavy, brash Urdu, all of it aimed at your father who more than deserves it- these are his spawn. 

You try to think through your feelings, try to sort them into neat and tidy boxes but it just winds you. 

You can't take deep breaths, they’re all shallow and sharp. Your chest aches, a concave feeling to it as you worry about the sharpness of your breath. It only worsens your ability, your breathing even shallower and you can’t seem to stop the cycle. 

You reach for your phone, pulling up a breathing video and trying your best to follow it, your breathing evening the longer you follow along. 

When you can inhale fully, you call Remus. You need him. 

He picks up on the second ring, “Hi, dovey. Everything okay?” 

“I think I should’ve let you come.” Your voice sounds ragged, like you need to cry and Remus’ skin prickles. He wishes he was there too. 

“Need me to come up there?” You debate it, you really do, and maybe if you didn’t feel like such a shitty person right now you would’ve said ‘no,’ but you need Remus and his sound mind and advice. 

“It’s a thirty minute drive.” you say, hearing things rustling in the back and Remus moves the phone from his mouth as he calls to someone. 

“I’m heading out, text me if you need anything.” Then the phone is closer. “Just had to tell Siri and Jamie. I’m on my way, princess.” 

“Drive safely, Remmy.” you sound so sad, Remus wishes he could just apparate to you now. 

“I’ll see you soon, baby. Stay somewhere safe, yeah.”

Tears gather in your eyes at how easily Remus could tell that you were frightened, that you’re in need of some place soft to land. God, you can’t wait for him to be here. 

The front door opens, your older brother coming out on the porch with a heavy sigh. 

“You have to tell them Bebo,” he says softly and you shake your head. 

“Why? So they can think I’m just lying to make him look bad. I’m okay with this arrangement.” 

Your brother takes a seat on the porch swing and pats a spot next to him. 

“Are you actually?” You inhale, thinking it over for a brief moment. 

“It hurts, of course it does. But I used to be mean too, this is them being mean back.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes, “It’s not like they’re ten. They’re sixteen and they’re horrid.” You take your spot next quickly- like if you chance a slow moment the tears will come. 

“But just to me. You get to be the best sibling they have, while I’m the problem black sheep sibling who can’t help but be macabre.” 

“You’re not macabre. You know you’re not. You just lived some dark shit to spare them and it’s time to stop. They can handle it.” You wish you could do it, it might make things easier, but you’re scared. 

“Maybe next time, it’s too charged in there now.” You sigh, head touching the back of the swing. “Do you think I’ll ever have their love?” The tears stream down your cheeks anyway as you think about the idea, as you hear their words rattle around your head. 

Your brother sighs hard, not sure if your siblings would ever wake up from your dad’s spell. Instead of saying anything, he guides your head to his shoulder. “Take a nap, Bebo.” 

“Remus is coming soon. Would you wake me when he gets here?”

“‘Course, Bebo.”

Your grandmother comes out right after you fall asleep, touching your sticky cheek with a weathered hand. 

“They’ll break her, you know. They’ll break her spirit and she won’t hold back anymore.” She sounds sad, like she can see it happening already.

“Mama, she won’t break.”  your brother says, reaching for her but she bats him away. 

“She’s not like you. You brush it off, she can’t. It weighs her heart. Every time she leaves here she looks so sad, so heavy and cracked. I can’t see her crack again, do you remember it?” 

Tears fall down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to wipe them, she just stares at your sleeping form. 

Your brother sighs, leaning on her shoulder as she sits on his other side. “I remember,” he says quietly, the memories of you being withdrawn dancing behind his eyes. “Her boyfriend is coming here.”

“Really?” She asks and your brother nods. 

“She told me to wake her up when he gets here.” 

Mama smiles, “I’m glad she called him.” 

Remus arrives about forty minutes later, your brother sitting beside you about to shake your shoulder when Remus steps out of the car and shakes his head. 

“Let her sleep a little,” your brother’s confused by his request. 

“She asked me to wake you when you get here.” 

Remus smiles despite his anger. He’d stewed all the way to your dad’s house, wondering if you’d be hurt, if you’d not find a quiet place and the argument would keep going. 

He didn’t know what he was walking into, and finding you asleep is much more welcome than the sadder visions of his brain. 

“Would you tell me what it’s all about? Or what sparked it all today?” 

Remus sits on the floor near the foot of the swing, his hand holding onto your ankle as he looks to your brother. 

It’s clear to him, your brother, that Remus cares about you. His eyes haven’t strayed from you for more than thirty seconds, always coming back to rove over your face like he’s making sure you’re still there and still okay. 

Your brother hesitates- he’s never spoken about this with someone outside of the family. “They have warped perceptions of her; our younger brother and sister. They think she’s ungrateful and just doesn’t come home to get dad riled up- she doesn’t come home because they don’t know what she’s done so they didn’t have to get the dad we got.” 

Remus frowns harder, his thumb rubbing a circle on your ankle. 

“And she doesn’t want to tell them?” There’s no judgement in his tone, just curiosity. 

Your brother shakes his head. “She doesn’t think they’d believe her at this point. I’m always trying to talk her into it, but I think it runs a bit too deep to dredge up just like that.” 

Remus nods, eyes fixated on you as you sleep. “Will she want to tell them goodbye?” 

Your brother smiles, “If you leave without meeting our grandma, I think she’ll never forgive you for leaving without her ice cream.” 

Remus laughs, nodding as he stands. 

“You should wake her up first, I’ll go tell Mama you’re here.” Remus waits till your brother walks off into the house to sit beside you. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but sometime later you feel Remus’ hand on your cheek, thumb a little calloused as it rubs at the apple. 

Only he wakes you up this gently. 

“Princess, wake up. Miss your face.” 

“Hey,” your eyes peel open slowly, a little smile spreading on your face. 

Remus’ smile is small, but not forced. He could never do that with you looking up at him- especially with your sleepy eyes. 

“Was the drive okay?” 

He chuckles, it’s belated that you notice you’re alone with him on your front porch. Your brother’s car is still parked outside and so is your grandmother’s. 

“Yeah it was, pretty girl.” 

Remus kisses your forehead, his hand holding your face even though it’s a little sticky with your dried tears. 

“Your brother went to get Mama.” He says softly, letting you twist your body so you were leaning into him. Your entire front body was pressing against his ribs. 

“I’m so tired, Remmy.” Your voice cracks as you speak, Remus can’t bear it. He hates it that you’re this sad. 

“I know baby,” his words are whispered into your hairline, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he feels the quiet tears soak his shirt. “We don’t have to stay here any longer than you want to.” 

You sniffle and nod, letting Remus pull you further into his lap so he can hold you. 

“This is Mama,” you hear your brother’s voice and the light steps of your grandmother and then feel Remus lean forward. You assume he wanted you off his lap, but his hand anchors your hip to his as he shakes the older woman’s hand. 

“Remus.” He introduces himself and she smiles. 

“You’re handsome,” you laugh when you catch Remus’ cheeks flushing. “I have your ice cream here, Bebo. He won’t come out, locked himself away in his office.” 

You shrug, “Doesn’t matter. I’m ready to go.” Remus nods, taking the tub of ice cream for you, letting you climb off his lap before standing. 

“Give me two minutes, baby.” You kiss his jaw as you go, the car keys in your hand.

“She’ll be okay right?” 

Your brother smiles at Remus, Mama frowns. 

“She’s a fighter.” He says but Mama shakes her head. 

“She might not have any more fight left in her.” 

Remus knows what she means to say. He remembers how Sirius had been, the brave faces and attitude to hide how sad he was. He looks at the car and spots you with your head against the glass. 

“Just be patient with her.” Mama says and Remus nods.  “She’ll tell you everything soon enough. She looks at you like you individually hung the stars.” 

Remus blushes again, not really knowing what to say. 

Your older brother pats his shoulder and goes inside, “I think I’ll head out too.” He goes to his car, but not before stopping at Remus’ and giving you a kiss to your forehead. 

Remus frowns, “Does everyone disperse after they fight like this?” He asks your grandmother, not wanting to push but trying to understand. 

“Bebo can’t take more of this, you’ll see. I set him straight, he leaves her alone for months and then starts over. It’s like a cat and a mouse- always prodding and slapping and poking until the mouse has had enough.” 

“And the mouse does what when they’ve had enough?” 

Mama smiles, like she’s holding out just a sliver of hope that it will happen. “Revolt.” 

Remus gives her a hug and makes his way to the car. 

As soon as he opens the door, you smile. Tired lines all over your face as your eyes barely open. 

“Wanna stay over?” You ask, cheek smushed to your shoulder as you look at Remus. 

“How abouts you come over to mine? I’ve got fluffy blankets,” Remus kisses that spot where your forearm and upper arm meet. “Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies,” a kiss to your shoulder, right on the beauty mark. “And I’ve got all your favourites on dvd.” 

The last kiss is right on the corner of your mouth, chaste and sweet and it makes you smile even more. 

“Sirius and James won’t mind?” 

Remus rolls his eyes, “They’ve gone on their own lover’s retreats today.” Wrong, Remus kicked them out the second he’d hung the phone with you. 

“Okay, but can we stop by my place to get my stuffy?” 

Remus chuckles, “Course we can, dovey. That way we’ll both have clothes at each other’s place.” 

You tut, clipping on your seatbelt as Remus turns over the engine. “You’re not getting your sweater back, Remus.” 

He only rolls his eyes as he pulls out of your dad’s yard, tipping his chin to the ice cream tub. “Will that be okay on the drive?” 

You nod, “Yeah, we can have some with the cookies tonight.” 

[distantdarlings]

SUPPORT SYSTEM // Slytherin Boys

RATING: PG-13 / 2.2K WORDS

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When a few Gryffindors start spreading rumors that the Slytherin boys only hang around you because they’re sharing you, you’re hesitant to share this information with them. (Slight Angst, Comedy?)

+ WARNINGS - Language, some sexual discussion (very small amount), bullying, secrets, implied fight, not proof-read (lmk if I’ve missed anything)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Sarah - Alex G

- - -

As soon as your eyes opened that morning, you found yourself regretting even waking up. The memories of yesterday were flooding back and hitting you like a giant tidal wave, so visceral you could almost taste the salted water.

You ran a hand over your eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, and dreading the day. Despite the superior support system you had holding you up, you found yourself in a dilemma. The wonderful people you called your closest friends were what was plaguing you.

With each inhale, a flash of one of their faces would zip in front of you, deepening the nausea building in your stomach. You sigh. You couldn’t miss anymore classes, but you felt as though leaving your bed would surely breed a recipe for disaster.

Between the relentless teasing, the names you’d been called, and everything else that had been going on this week, you felt close to giving up. The only thing that had kept you powered in even the slightest way were your friends.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. A few teasing laughs broke through the thick wooden door as you swallowed the misery rising up your throat. It wouldn’t surprise you if your harrassers had decided to come knocking at your door, bringing their sneers and cruel words with them. You perked up your voice to tell the usurpers to go away when you heard a familiar shout.

The voice was lowered and joking, letting your name fall from his mouth like it was an everyday thing—which it was. You jumped up and tossed the comforter away from your body. You across the cold dorm floor and flung the heavy wooden door open.

On the other side stood three dark boys, all with varying smiles and warm eyes. Hot relief flooded your body as you let yourself fall into them.

Theo Nott stood dead center and caught your flailed body like a Quaffle. You wrapped your arms tightly around his lean body, missing the way he felt and the way he smelled. You could’ve melted into his body and lived there for the rest of your days if necessary.

To his right was Enzo Berkshire, the devilishly handsome and wickedly funny boy you called one of your best friends. He laughed aloud and tossed an arm around you as well, squeezing you between their bodies. You groaned slightly and the pressure. You turned your head.

“Come on, Matty, don’t you want to join us?” you mumbled, your cheeks squished between the two boys on either side of you.

The last boy stood back a bit, watching you amusedly. Mattheo Riddle chuckled a bit before placing a large hand over your head and mussing your hair a bit.

“I’m good, kid, but I’m grateful you’re feeling better,” he said, his voice genuine. You’d always hated when he called you ‘kid,’ as he was only a few months older than you. But, right now, you were more than happy to hear him say it.

With laughing exclamations, they all asked what you were doing and how you’ve been and if you felt any better. Amongst the constant picking you were getting from some of your classmates, you’d taken a couple days away from class and the boys because you were ‘sick.’ With white lies peppered in here and there, you explained that you were feeling much better now that they were here and that you were pretty sure you’d had some kind of stomach bug. It wasn’t totally a lie as you’d felt nauseated all weekend thinking about going back to class.

“Ready to go back to class?” Enzo asked, finally pulling away from you and allowing you a breath. Your stomach twisted at his words.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. “I guess I am.” Theo and Enzo smiled in response, but Mattheo gave you an odd look, raising one of his eyebrows suspiciously. You shook your head at him.

For the last month, a couple of your classmates had been mentioning things in passing to people around the school. A few of your other acquaintances, outside of the boys, had informed you of the rumors being spread. Awful things, mostly about the boys. Things you’d never even considered to be a possibility.

Luna, a friend of yours from Herbology, mentioned that some Gryffindor had spoken to a couple of her friends about you in Potions. The Gryffindor had said that you were only friends with the boys because you were interested in their money and status, and that the boys only kept you around because you were easy. That last part had made your stomach broil.

You had never, ever even wanted anything more than what you currently had with the boys. They were your best friends—almost like brothers—and there was nothing more you craved from them. Being away from them for multiple days at a time felt like you were separated from family members, not lovers. And you had never so much as mentioned their money—in fact, you refused to let them pay for dinner the majority of times. You hated when people paid for your things.

Needless to say, the words had hurt you deeply, and you’d begun to wonder how many other people thought these things about you.

You wondered that until you overhead someone talking about you in a class last week. Little whispers had been passing around behind you the entirety of the class anyway, but when you’d heard your name, you’d whipped around to see who had said it. And lo and behold, there sat the Gryffindor girl with her group of friends. Only, this time there were others leaning in and listening. Fellow Slytherins, no less.

“Are you talking about me?” you’d asked, your eyebrows furrowing in hurt and anger. Nervous eyes had glanced back and forth and all around until the Gryffindor girl—Nancy McLaggen, you’d learned was her name—spoke up with a cruel smirk on her lips.

“We were just wondering if a couple rumors were true,” she’d said, faux innocence painted on her face.

“Rumors about me? What rumors?”

“Well, we all had heard from someone in Ravenclaw that you’re being passed around the Slytherin boys.”

You had nearly choked on your spit. Nancy refused to wipe the smirk off her face, and the people around you had begun to listen in as well. Expressions of shock and amusement were scattered throughout the classroom, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You’d swiped your books together and excused yourself from the class, ignoring your teacher’s shouts to explain yourself.

And those were the events that had led you to where you currently were—miserable and pretending to be sick to avoid your peers. It was pathetic, but you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been able to defend yourself in class last week and you were worried you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself if it happened again.

And there was no way in hell you were telling the boys about this. There would be no hesitation from any of them to defend you, but that was exactly what you were worried about. If they tried to help you, it would only worsen your current condition. Everyone in school would see the action as them protecting their little sex toy.

Merlin, you were so embarrassed and hurt, you couldn’t stand it. You felt nauseated again.

“Actually, boys,” you started, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I’m still feeling a little sick. I might wait until next week.”

“Next week?” Theo exclaimed. “How sick are you? Are you sure you don’t need to go to the infirmary?”

“No, I’m fine,” you sigh. “You go ahead—”

“No, we’re not going anywhere!” Enzo suddenly interrupted, stepping in front of Theo. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden spike in volume.

“En, I’m fine—”

“No, there’s something very wrong, and you’re not sick.”

“Guys, please just—”

“I agree with Enzo,” Theo interrupted. You glanced desperately at Mattheo, hoping someone would stand on your side.

“Something’s up,” he shrugged. “You don’t even look sick, kid.” You rolled your eyes. That annoyance was back.

“I said I was fine, why can’t you guys believe me?” you asked, sighing at their resilience. You wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“Because we’ve known you since you were eleven, just like you’ve known us,” Theo said. “Would you just let us be if one of us was acting the way you are?”

His words gave you pause. He made a very fair point. If any of the boys standing before you was behaving as you were, you’d be concerned. You felt a bit of guilt in becoming so angry with their protectiveness. They just wanted to help—just as they always did.

“Please tell us what’s wrong,” said Enzo. You tear your eyes from theirs, finding the lines of tile in the floor.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore their pressing stares, you couldn’t. You knew you needed to talk to someone—especially one of them. If they found out through someone else, who knew what they’d do. You pressed a frustrated hand to your forehead. The pure shame you felt from having to tell them what you’d been hearing the last week felt almost synonymous with running through the halls of the castle naked.

“Okay,” you sighed in defeat. “Last week, Someone started passing some rumors around the school—rumors about me.”

The boys seemed to glance between each other a few times before resuming immediate interest in your words.

“I know that there were a few girls from Gryffindor involved; Luna was the one to tell me about them…” you paused for a moment, gathering what little pride you had left. “They’ve been telling everyone that you guys have been…passing me around.”

With the last few words, you heaved a sigh of both relief and defeat and lowered your head farther into yourself. You felt nauseated and wished you could disappear.

In a breath of time, Mattheo’s knuckles clenched painfully loud as he turned on his heel and slammed the dorm door open.

“Mattheo, no—” you started to shout, tossing yourself toward the door. Theo and Enzo caught you against them, blocking your path.

“Guys, stop! Let me go!”

“You couldn’t have expected us to hear that and be totally fine, could you?” Theo smirked, pressing a small kiss to your cheek. You groaned and shoved away from them, backing farther into your room.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “I didn’t tell any of you who I was talking about.”

“You said it was some Gryffindors, right?” Enzo asked.

“Yes, but do you have any idea how many Gryffindors are in this castle?”

“Enough.” Theo grinned wildly, his lips spreading evilly. The two boys crossed their arms and stood resolutely in front of the door.

“He’ll never figure out who it was,” you taunted, crossing your arms. Then just below the three of you, you heard a sharp shout of rough consonants.

“WHO THE FUCK WAS TALKING ABOUT HER?”

At the sound of Mattheo’s tone, the two boys exchanged an excited glance and quickly pushed themselves through the door. As they unblocked your path, you sped toward the door.

Just as you reached the gaping threshold, they slammed the door shut right in your face. You pressed your body against the door, beating your hands on the solid wood.

“THEODORE NOTT, LORENZO BERKSHIRE, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR!” you shrieked over their mocking laughter on the other side.

Something heavy clunked against the door and acted as their replacement as their chuckling voices disappeared down the hall.

No matter how hard you banged on the door’s solid wood, you realized you were never getting out of this unless—

You gasped and backed away from the door. Your wand. You could blast the door to pieces and repair it later.

With a successful smirk on your lips, you ran over to your bedside table and reached for the thin piece of material.

And just as your fingers curled around the wand, you heard a distant shout of “Accio!” Then your wand was flying out of your hand and zipping towards, then under the door.

You shrieked in anger before collapsing against your bed. You couldn’t believe that was going to go any other way, considering how well you knew the boys. It was well out of your hands now.

“You’ll thank us later, darling,” Enzo’s laughing voice was heard distantly through the stone walls. It took only a second for it to be drowned out by your frustrated groans and Theo’s taunting against some unknown assailant. You just hoped they wouldn’t hurt any of those students too badly…sort of.

Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @Yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch

[nickfowlerrr]

everybody talks

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: almost 7.7k

notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!

i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤

The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 

When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.

You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 

The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.

Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.

Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.

That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 

You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 

You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.

You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.

Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 

Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.

He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.

“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.

He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.

You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 

You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 

And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.

Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 

They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.

Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.

You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 

As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.

The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.

You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 

He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.

“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”

“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 

His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 

You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.

You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 

You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”

He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.

Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 

The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.

You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.

The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.

It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.

“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.

He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”

Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.

You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.

You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”

You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.

He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.

You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.

For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 

He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.

“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.

He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”

“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.

“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.

“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”

“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.

His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.

Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.

“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.

Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.

“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”

The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.

You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.

—

Grumpy. 

That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.

This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.

Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 

At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 

You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.

You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.

It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.

As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 

“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.

As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”

You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”

“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”

“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”

“No.” she responded flatly.

“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”

“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.

“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”

She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 

“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.

—

It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 

Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 

The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 

Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.

The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 

He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.

He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 

And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.

Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.

He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 

So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.

As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 

But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.

Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.

Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.

But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.

Was someone actually coming up the porch?

He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.

—

“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”

“No.”

“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”

“Everyday,” she replied.

“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.

“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.

You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.

“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”

“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.

“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”

Her reluctant nod was your answer.

“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.

Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.

You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.

Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 

Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.

Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 

He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.

“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.

Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.

“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.

“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.

“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 

“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”

“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.

“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.

“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.

You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”

Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.

You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 

You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.

Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 

Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.

“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.

“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.

“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.

“It,”

“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.

“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 

“I’m not just going to invite myself-”

“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”

You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.

You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 

You nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”

“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 

“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.

“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.

What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.

She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”

“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”

“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”

—

It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.

“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.

“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”

You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 

“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”

“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.

“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”

“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”

There’s a pause before he continues,

“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”

You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.

“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 

“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”

“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”

“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 

You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 

The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.

Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 

Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.

You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.

As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 

You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.

“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.

“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”

“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.

“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.

You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 

It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 

“You get scared easily?” he asked.

“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.

You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.

The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.

Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.

He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,

“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.

Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”

His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 

You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.

His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.

His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.

You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.

When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 

“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.

“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.

You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.

He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 

You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.

“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”

That did nothing to ease your worry…

“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”

“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”

“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”

You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 

“Same page, then.”

“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 

His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 

His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 

You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 

While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.

He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.

His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.

You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 

When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.

You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.

As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 

You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.

He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 

His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 

He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.

“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 

“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.

“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.

“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”

The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried.

“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”

One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.

“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 

Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 

With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 

You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.

He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.

His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 

He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.

“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.

Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 

“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”

Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.

You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[uzurakis]

Hi! I like your writing about jjk men reaction to y/n reader breaking up, but would they react the same if the reason for break up is y/n falling out of love? 🥹

YOU? FALLING OUT OF LOVE?

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. nanami kento. choso kamo.

n. yall rlly like to hurt yourselves 😭 godd the amount of angst i have in my inbox. hope this one pains you enough then </3

“we need to talk..”

GOJO SATORU. he looked up from his phone, that stupid smile dancing on his lips. “uh-oh, that sounds serious. what did i do this time? forget to take out the trash?”

trying to maintain your composure, you shook your head. you usually would lecture him about that, but not this time. it’s far more different than forgetting to take out the trash or not washing the dishes. “no, it’s not that. it’s… it’s about us.”

gojo’s smile faltered slightly, but he remained playful. “us? oh, let me guess. you’re secretly in love with my best friend, right? this is just one of those elaborate pranks. you should delete tiktok, i think it’s—“

“satoru, i’m falling out of love with you.” you took another deep breath, held in it for some amount of time to see his reaction, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“great, just what i needed to hear today. so funny, babe.” for a moment, he just stared at you, as if waiting for the punchline. then, when it didn’t come, he laughed nervously. “you’re kidding, right? this is a joke. you can’t be serious.”

“i’ve been feeling this way for a while now..”

his laughter faded, replaced by a look of confusion and hurt. “no, no, no. that can’t be true, baby. you’re just having a bad day or something, right? we can work through this.”

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly. “it’s not just a bad day, satoru. i don’t feel the same way i used to.”

he stood up, pacing the room, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “this doesn’t make any sense. we were fine. we are fine. you can’t just… fall out of love like that, right?”

“tell me i’m wrong, please..”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. for a moment, megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise, mouth slightly opened; like he intended to say something but immediately got eaten by the weight of the situation. then, his expression hardened, and he looked down, his hands clenching into fists. “i… i don’t understand,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.

the silence that followed was suffocating. you could see the pain in his eyes, even though he was trying to hide it. “megumi, i’m so sorry. i didn’t know how this happened, i.. never wanted this to happen..”

“no..” he shook his head, still looking at the ground, “what changed? did.. did i do something wrong?”

you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “i tried to make it work. i really did. but i can’t force my feelings, it’s eating me alive too, gumi..”

megumi nodded slowly, his gaze distant. “it’s my fault i didn’t realize you felt that way. just, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

guilt and regret struck a chord deep within you. the pain in his eyes, the genuine hurt in his voice, the way his shoulders slumped slightly, and it tore at you. it was clear that he blamed himself, and that realization only made your own emotions more compound.

you reached out to touch his hand, but he pulled away, the gesture making your heart ache even more. “i don’t, i didn’t know how to say it to you.. how could i? i care about you so much, megumi. but i can’t lie to you or to myself.”

“if that’s how you really feel, i guess there’s nothing i can do to change your mind.” he stood up abruptly, not sparing a glance at you, not even once. “so, we.. we just… go our separate ways now?”

“…sorry, i.. i need some time alone.”

NANAMI KETO. nanami just stared at you for a brief while, his expression unreadable. he nodded slowly after that, his eyes becoming thoughtful. “i see,” he said in a quiet manner. “i guess we’ve both changed.”

you felt a lump form in your throat. “i never wanted this to happen, kento.. never once i even thought about this.”

he reached across the table and took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “it’s not your fault,” he said softly despite the circumstances you’re throwing him in, “people change, feelings change. it’s a part of life.”

“but i feel like i’m letting you down. like i’m betraying everything we had. i don’t want that, kento.”

“you shouldn’t burden yourself with guilt, sweetheart. this isn’t something you can control, and it’s not fair to blame yourself for it.”

looking down at your intertwined hands, you felt some kind of sorrow and relief. “you’ve always been so understanding, kento.. i don’t deserve this.”

he squeezed your hand gently. “we shared something special, and i’ll always cherish that. but if your heart is no longer in it, then it’s better to be honest.”

“we can certainly try. it will take time, but i’d rather have you in my life in some capacity than not at all.”

CHOSO KAMO. choso’s face fell, a look of shock and pain replacing his usual demeanor. “no, please,” he said, voice desperate, reaching out for you. “let’s talk about this, please. there has to be a way to fix things, love?”

it crushed your heart to see the agony in his eyes. “choso, it’s not something you can just fix. it’s how i feel.”

“is it something i did? how can i make things right?” he pleaded, every word cracking with emotion.

“it’s not about you. it’s just… i don’t feel the same way anymore.”

choso took a step closer. “i still love you,” he murmured, hanging his whole existence on it. “i don’t want to lose you.”

your heart ached at his words, knowing how much you were hurting him. “i know, choso. and i’m so sorry,” you said, your voice also breaking. “but i can’t change how i feel.”

“please,” he whispered, reaching out to take your hand and pulled you into a tight embrace. “don’t give up on us.”

“i just want you to be happy,” he murmured into your hair. “even if it’s not with me.”

@uzurakis

[norris55s]

the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc

a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2

pt. 1

warnings: none other than angst?

a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!

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Day 4

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As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.

“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.

I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.

As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.

“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.

“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”

I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?

“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”

The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.

“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.

The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.

I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.

“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”

When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.

He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.

Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.

As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.

“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.

“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?

“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.

Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.

The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.

He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.

In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.

“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.

“Arthur…”

“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”

“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”

Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.

He stormed out of the room.

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charles_leclerc added to his stories

y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories

arthur_leclerc added to his stories

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[targaryenluvs]

LITTLE OLD ME? / SAM WINCHESTER

PAIRINGS: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: With the prospect of leaving you to find his father, Sam finds himself running out of time to tell you just how much you mean to him. But do you feel the same? And who’ll confess first?

WORDCOUNT: 2.6K Words

WARNINGS: Pining, jealousy, clueless Sam, teasing, confessions, angst, fluff, kisses, dual pov, arguments, THESE KIDS ARE CLUELESS!!! Lazy writing from me so I used the script

A/N: Set in season one! He’s too cute, he’s so cute I might just faint 😫 I’ll have some dark Sam soon don’t worry I always balance the scales 😋 Me… writing fluff?? unheard of! No Jess slander here too she’s your friend :P italics = flashbacks/thoughts/exaggerations HAHAH I ACCIDENTALLY ADDED MY NAME IN IM GOING TO KMS I’ve changed it now 🤣

AO3 Link

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Sam had first met you at a party.

A friend of his had dragged him along, claiming that the College experience was not just about studying. Sam didn’t want to be there, but he also didn’t want to disappoint him.

He ended up letting his friend disperse, interacting with the people he knew. Sam knew no one at this party, it consisted of another schools students and a few familiar faces. He nodded at a few but found himself standing in a corner and trying to choose which assignment he was going to finish off when he got to his place.

Which is when he saw you, with one of the biggest smiles on your faces. And Sam couldn’t help but smile along with you. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know what on Earth was so funny, he wanted to smile because you were. It seemed like everyone circled you.

Your friend had noticed him staring your way about a minute ago, but didn’t want to be wrong. So she kept moving you around and dragging you to new people. Lo and behold, his eyes followed. Based on her check, he seemed sweet. He didn’t stare at your ass or your chest, just your face. He laughed and smiled when you did.

He seemed to admiring, and she liked it. Sam’s friend, Mason, returned to the room with a girl on his arm. She watched as Sam side hugged him once he returned.

Mutual friend? Check!

“If you drag me anywhere else my arm is going to fall off Jess!” The party seemingly faded away as you made eye contact with him, god was he cute. His gorgeous brown eyes and hair were more than enough to render you tongue-tied. Sam looked like a deer in headlights as he stared at you, why were you in front of him?

Had he been staring too long?

“Mace! There you are.” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, “Oh, this is my friend Y/n. Mason, Y/n.” Mason reached his hand out to you as you smiled at him. Sam found himself holding his breath, your smile is even bigger now.

He wanted you to smile his way, “This here is Sam! Sam, Y/n.” Jess and Mason shared the same idea as the three others watched as you smiled, “It’s nice to meet you Sam, you can just call me Y/n/n.” He snapped out of his daze and shook your hand, hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

“Sam, I’m Sam. You know that, Mason told you. But uh, you can call me Sammy.” Masons eyebrows furrowed at the notion, he never called him Sammy. The girl on his arm tugged, “Let’s let these two get, acquainted.”

And that you did.

For the rest of the night, you may not have had as much to drink as the others, but you had one of the best nights of your life. You started off in the corner of the room, slowly getting to know eachother. The night led you outside, thumping music and shouts drowned out by the others presence.

Then somehow you ended up heading out for Ice Cream and then at the park. Sitting on swings and laughing at his awful jokes, you’d never felt more care-free. The night was full, and you were thankful.

He shone, if that made sense. Sam was a shot of espresso, and you were an addict. As cheesy as it sounds, you found him to bring color into your life. Your life wasn’t dreary and depressing, but it was boring. You found yourself going from class to your bed, the library, or working.

You had friends, yes, but not too many you could actually rely on if need be. That you trusted. And within one night, you found yourself pushing Sam to the top of that list.

Sam liked you from the get go, how could he not? With your infectious laughter and smile, kind eyes and understanding self. And you listened, with your whole body. You digested everything you heard and were full of empathy. He needed someone like you.

You’d been best friends since then, your first year of college. Best friends and undeniably in love with eachother. Not that the two of you ever noticed. It infuriated Jess and Mason to no end. The two of them saw it, every time you all hung out. The way Sam clung onto everything you said, as if it was Gospel.

The way your eyes practically glistened when he spoke or smiled. You looked up to eachother with so much emotion it hurt the soul. And the second the other was approached? All bets were off.

No man or woman in their mind continued to pursue you once they caught a glimpse of the huge, 6’5 giant behind you. Sometimes they’d keep going, but then he’d come up behind you with some stupid excuse to get you to go back to the table. And that person was left face to face with Sam and his unsettling smile, “You waiting for something?” A quick shake of the head and they were gone.

But it didn’t matter, whether or not you got together or not. You had eachothers backs at the end of the day, no matter what was going on. Even if you were fighting.

The night Sam’s life changed, you were drunk.

The two of you had an argument earlier on.

You ran your fingers through your hair as Sam followed you through the hallway of the apartment building, “Stop walking away from me!” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, “Stop telling me what to do!”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to keep you safe Y/n/n.” His voice was softer now, and it pissed you off. How on Earth were you supposed to be angry with him when he looked like that. And then the eyes? Ugh!

“It seems like you’re always babying me Sam! I can go out with who I want to.” He sighed, taking a step closer he held onto your hands, “I’m not babying you, again, I just want to keep you safe.” You pursed your lips before crossing your arms, “What’s wrong with Ben?”

He’s a vampire.

“Y/n, please.” He was pleading, but you didn’t care.

“No! I never get a clear answer from you. Why don’t you want me to go out with him?” Your voice quivered as you waited for his response. You noticed his jaw clench, you could tell he was keeping his answer under wraps.

Is it because you like me?

“I- I-,” The words wouldn’t form in his mouth and he couldn’t find a decent answer.

“Good one Sam. I’m leaving.”

He watched as you entered the elevator, guilty eyes unwilling to meet his. He sighed as his head hung low, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Sam had been invited to go out that night, he turned it down. Jess had let him know which club the two of you had gone to, and kept him updated on whereabouts. If you needed a ride and he was out, it would take him about thirty minutes to get to you from his party.

A lot can happen in thirty minutes.

His phone ringing drew him out of the light sleep that he’d fallen under, “Hello?” The sleep in his voice was evident to Jess, “Hey Sam. It’s Y/n time.” He scoffed at the term whilst chucking on a jacket and grabbing his keys, “I’ll be there in 10.”

You hadn’t wanted to see Sam, which was what you’d told Jess, repeatedly. Even if it was most definitely not true. Sam and Jess had successfully stuffed your unconscious self into your car, you’d had Jess pick you up after the argument.

He’d been carrying you to his bed when you’d stirred, “I’m sorry. F-for fighting with you. Ben’s a bitch.” Sam laughed at your crude language as he laid you down on the your side of the bed. You’d claimed it the second he’d invited you over to his new place. “Glad to hear it Y/n/‘.” Sam settled on his knees, removing your heels.

“Sweetheart?” Hair fell in front of your face as you turned to face him, “Mhm?” He moved it behind your ear, “You okay if I change you?” A half-assed thumbs up and a lopsided smile was all you could muster. He knew you wouldn’t mind anyways. You’d told him on multiple occasions that you’d murder him if he let you sleep in your makeup too.

“Could you ever be friends with me if I always had run down make up slobbered over me all the time?” You both sat in front of the TV, chowing down on pizza. “I thought that was your usual look?” The pillow you threw his way had begun a pillow war.

He removed your dress before picking out a shirt of yours and boxers. Since it was your favourite combo. Sam smiled at the notion of you practically swamped by his clothes. Using the makeup wipes you had stashed in the bathroom, he gently cleaned your face before settling in for the night. You quickly turned over to bury into the side of your personal furnace.

Sam’s eyes shot open at the sound, it was darker than before, later in the night. You being settled into his side checked off the possibility of you rattling around in the kitchen for a midnight snack. Quickly checking it out he was met with his brother Dean after a tussle.

“Whoa, easy, tiger.” Sam glared at Dean whilst trying to catch his breath, “Dean?” He laughed at Sam, “You scared the crap outta me!” Dean grinned, “That's 'cause you're out of practice.”

Whether he was offended or annoyed, Sam took the opportunity. He grabbed Dean’s hand and managed to turn him and they ended up on the floor.

Dean groaned, “Or not.” Dean tapped him twice where Sam was holding him. “Get off of me.” A small smile came across the youngest Winchester’s face as he rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Brushing himself off he straightened up, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”

Dean placed his hands on Sam’s shoulders, shaking once, and letting go. Sam was understandably confused, “What the hell are you doing here?” The elder of the two relented, “Okay. All right. We gotta talk.”

“Uh, the phone?” Sam crossed his arms as Dean rolled his eyes, “If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?”

Fair point.

The murmurs and bumps were more than enough to wake you up. You made your way to the source before turning the light on. Cursing whatever Sam chose for you to wear, it was cold.

“Sammy?” Your voice was like honey to the two of them, Dean couldn’t help but look at you appreciatively whilst clocking onto the fact that you called him Sammy. The boxers, the bare legs and the cute tired look on your face.

Sam and Dean turned their heads in unison to the sweet voice, “Y/n/n. Hey. Dean, this is my gir— friend. Uh, best friend. Y/n.” Sam cringed internally at his words.

Your face was painted in confusion as your brain finally processed his words, “Wait, your brother Dean?”

You smiled as Sam nodded, you’d always wanted to meet him. Dean grinned at you and moved closer.

“Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.” You stuttered at the prospect of being Sam’s girlfriend. But you weren’t in the mood to deny it unless he did.

“I—, we aren’t— ,” By a glimpse you could see Sam’s eyes staring straight into Dean’s head, “Alright, why don’t you back up a little Dean?” Sam spoke as Dean laughed, “Just let me put something on.” As you turned to go a voice stops you.

“No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.” You smiled at him, “Nice to meet you too Dean.”

“No.” Sam goes over to Y/n and put his arm around her, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her. She’s my best friend.” That’s how you two were, touch was never weird for you two. It’s why you were always mistaken for a couple.

Dean sighs, “Okay.” He turns to look at them both straight on, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.” Sam nodded along, “So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Dean ducked his head and looked back up at the couple in front of him.

“Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam expression didn’t change as he nods along. Y/n glanced up at him with a frown, “You never told me your Dad still hunts.” Sam’s lips pressed into a tight smile, “Y/n/n, excuse us. We have to go outside.” You nodded at him, “Can I borrow you, really quickly?”

Dean nodded as Sam smiled, “Of course.” Sitting down on the bed as Sam sat next to you, “If your dad’s missing then are you going to go look for him?” He didn’t know yet, he didn’t even know the whole story yet. “It depends I guess. Where he last was and what Dean tells me.”

“But what about Monday?” Sam couldn’t help but smile, of course you were worried about things that weren’t yours. “I’ll be back in time, I swear Y/n/n.”

He glanced over at you, your hands were in your lap as you smiled, “I know you haven’t told me what your dad hunts. But, I’ve seen your old diary.” His eyes immediately widened, “Y/n—,”

“I believe it, don’t worry. How can I not? I’ve watched my fair share of horror films and Buffy. Plus, my mum always used to tell me to keep an open mind to everything.” Sam had to take a second to grasp everything that had tumbled out from between your lips, “Wait— you knew?”

Your giggles were prominent, until it blew out into a laugh attack, “You should see your face! Of course I knew!” His eyebrows twisted as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t— what?” You grabbed his hands and clutched onto to them, “Baby, come on. All the random facts you always have, that one time you kept talking about the inaccuracies about Vampires. And then today,”

Sam’s face looked as if it had been drained or color, “If this is about—,”

“You sent an article that morning about Vampires and how they should actually be beheaded. And then a random story about them getting close to people abnormally quick. Which is exactly what happened with Ben. I got mad at you because I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

Sam sighed, “Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. And most people don’t handle the whole, ‘Ghosts are real’ bit that easily.”

“Well I’m not most people Sammy.”

“No, no you’re not. You’re better, you always have been Y/n.” The air in the room had apparently been drained, since you couldn’t breathe. Not with those gorgeous eyes staring down at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“If you’re not about to kiss me I give this interaction a minus 0 out of 10.” Sam scoffed, “So you’re rating me now?” You jokingly nodded as his hand was placed on your cheek before kissing you.

And God was it worth the wait.

As you pulled away you couldn’t believe you finally had him.

“100/10.”

“What an honour.”

You couldn’t help yourself as you kissed the tip of his nose, “Anything for something as cute as you.”

“Who, little old me?”

[dancingbirdie]

Behold my labor of love: Astarion SMUT.

This idea came to me after writing my last fic Something Imagined / Something Real. I wanted to backtrack and reimagine Astarion and Tav's first night together after the tiefling party.

If smut is not your thing, no worries! You can scroll down to the first set of asterisks (***) to avoid reading those parts. You don't miss much at all plot-wise.

This is my first time ever writing smut. Please be kind. And I hope you enjoy!

EDIT: This is a flashback fic! Part 2 is Something Imagined / Something Real. And subsequent vignettes to come!

I Want It To Be You

Rating: Mature/NSFW

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Detailed description of consensual sex, Tav's first time having sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, description of panic attack/anxiety, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

“Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?” 

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for. 

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously. 

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO WEEKS AGO

THE NIGHT OF THE TIEFLING PARTY

Let’s wait until things quiet down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other. 

Astarion’s parting words replayed over and over again in her head as she padded quietly through the woods, away from the campsite. From the comfort and familiarity of the party. They hadn’t agreed on a meeting place, but Tav assumed his heightened senses would locate her soon enough. She was grateful for the extra moments to herself. Her stomach was knotted from nerves and anticipation for what the night might bring. 

She hadn’t told him that she was a virgin. He probably deserved to know, she realized that, but she hadn’t wanted him to change his mind just because he’d be taking something no one else had before. It was her choice, her body to give, she reasoned to herself. Whether for the first time or the hundredth time, it shouldn’t matter. Right?

Her past experiences certainly influenced her reticence. Divulging that particular information about herself had resulted in people immediately halting romantic pursuits with her, or leering at her like she was some sort of top-shelf prize they were about to take home. She didn’t want to know if, or where, Astarion might land on that spectrum. Didn’t think her heart could take either reaction from him. Besides, she’d read enough of those dirty romance tomes and scrolls throughout her life (for educational purposes, of course, she justified to herself) to have a general understanding of what happens during sex. Surely she could bluff her way through this. Right?

She wanted to please him. Wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. It was no secret that Astarion had quickly become her favorite companion in this unlikely band of heroes she was traveling with. He was absolutely gorgeous, of course, but the longer she lingered around him, the less that seemed to matter. He was funny, in a devilish sort of way. Intelligent and cunning. Perceptive. And, while it was obvious that it unsettled the rest of the group, she genuinely appreciated how he prioritized his own self before bending over backwards to help someone else. Secretly, she wished she could emulate that a bit more in her own life, but years and years of people pleasing to win what scraps of affection she could was a hard habit to break. 

Clearly she was no closer to doing so, as there she stood. In the middle of a forest. Preparing for a midnight tryst with a person she had just met but grown to genuinely care for. And she wasn’t even sure that he would, or wanted to, return her sentiments. 

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

Astarion’s voice broke the mundane quiet of the forest that had lulled her into such ruminations. She turned toward the direction she had heard him speak and marveled at the sight of him slipping gracefully between the trees, moving ever slowly toward her. 

He had removed his shirt and was clad only in his leather breeches and boots. His alabaster skin practically glowed in the silvery light of the moon. He was the most beautiful person Tav thought she had ever laid eyes on, and it wasn’t only because she could now see the taut, sinewy muscles of his abdomen. He was perfectly fit in an elegant sort of way. Not like Halsin, with large bulging biceps, thick torso and sturdy legs. No, Astarion was like a leopard. Lithe, agile, regal even. And his face. Gods, the poets and painters could opine for centuries on his beautiful face without ever growing weary. 

“Is that so?” Tav called out in reply, walking to close the distance between them. By her estimate, she sounded much braver than she felt. Good. 

Astarion nodded, raising one hand to cup her cheek. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he finished, the pad of his thumb grazing sensually across her lower lip. 

“You don’t have me yet,” she whispered teasingly, although both of them were clearly aware of how she had shivered when he touched her. How her head bowed into his touch, like a lovesick little thing. 

“Don’t I?” he smirked. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk.” He stepped closer, completely absolving them both of any personal space. His free hand came to rest along the curve of her waist. 

“I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” He purred, lowering his head so that his lips ghosted the shell of her ear while he spoke.

Tav was thankful for the steadiness of his hands on her. His insinuations alone were quickly rendering her a quaking mess. But she didn’t want to be a selfish lover, and so she collected herself enough to pose a question in return.

“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, bringing a hand to rest softly against his chest, over his heart.

She noted the way his brows drew down briefly, seeming almost confused by her question. But as quick as it came, the expression vanished, replaced by something much more confident. More assertive.

“What do any of us want?” he breathed. “Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

Gently, so very gently, he began to trail hot, open-mouth kisses down the column of her neck. Tav’s breath caught audibly in her throat, and Astarion hummed in approval at her response.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “To lose yourself in me?”

It was fast becoming difficult for her to string two thoughts together. Astarion touching her like this sent shockwaves throughout her body. That curious heat she’d only known from touching herself began to kindle low in her belly. She clenched her thighs together subconsciously, trying to sate that feeling the fire was stirring up inside her. Astarion noticed her squirming, to his immense satisfaction.

“Well?” he coaxed in between kisses across her collarbone. His prompting reminded Tav that she had yet to answer his question, so lost was she in the feeling of his cool lips against her rapidly warming skin.

“I want to be with you. Share this night with you,” she answered honestly, unable to spare enough brain capacity to consider whether or not it was a good idea to be so forthcoming. 

“Such a charitable little thing,” he chuckled. “How could I deny you?”

And then his mouth captured hers. It was a searing, passionate kiss. A kiss that promised so much more pleasure to come. One that Tav had never known before, despite having partaken in her fair share of kisses over the years. But this kiss? This was the kiss of time-fated lovers. And Tav was desperate to match Astarion’s pace, desperate to feel more, more, more.

She moaned as he ran his tongue lightly against the seam of her lips, granting him entry to fully sweep in and plunder her mouth proper. Her fingers carded through his silvery blonde curls, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her mouth. 

She finally was forced to break their kiss after a few moments, hungrily gulping in air to alleviate her starving lungs. Astarion moved to ravage her neck once more, licking and sucking the soft delicate skin there. He gripped her ass possessively as he did so, walking her backwards until he was pressing her into the nearest tree.  

He lifted a knee to knock her legs apart before raising it higher to press into the juncture of her thighs. He delighted at how Tav immediately parted her legs for him, how she moaned from the pressure, how she subconsciously began grinding against him. 

“Look at you, you naughty thing” he crooned in her ear. “Riding my leg for some relief?”

Primal behavior called out, a scarlet blush immediately bloomed on Tav’s neck and cheeks. It only goaded Astarion further. 

“Go on then, darling. Rut against me. But I’m getting these lovely tits free first,” he whispered.  

He began undoing the laces on the front of her corset. Tav watched his progress, entranced by the gracefulness of his long, slender fingers. She was nearly trembling with anticipation. Once finished, she helped him extract her from the offending garment and allowed him to lift her chemise up, over her head, so that she was fully bare from the waist up. The cool night air turned her skin to gooseflesh, her nipples hardening.  

The sensation roused her lust-addled brain enough to realize just how vulnerable she was, standing there half-naked before him. She’d never been so exposed to another person before. Her fingers fluttered as she fought the sudden bout of nerves that insisted she cover her breasts from view. 

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled, plainly reading the self-conscious expression on her face. “I’ve been dying to see these for days now,” he continued, cupping one full breast and flicking her nipple lightly with his thumb. 

It sent a pulse thrumming directly to her core, and Tav moaned openly at the sensation. She could feel her simple linen breeches were completely drenched, was certain she was also dampening Astarion’s leg as she continued to grind against him.

Astarion chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction. 

“So responsive,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to latch onto her breast. He sucked lightly, while his hand continued its assault on the other. She fisted his hair in one hand, kissing the top of his head lovingly while he worked her into a frenzy.

Tav felt like she was quickly losing any ability to maintain balance. Her body was aching, whining, for more. She wanted to be laid out on the ground, wanted him to press her into the soft earth, taking everything. 

“Astarion, please,” she panted, pulling at his curls. He groaned in response, releasing her nipple from his mouth. 

“Please what, pet?” he teased, kissing and licking up her sternum. 

“I need… more,” she whined, bucking against his leg. 

He huffed a laugh before sweeping her up in one smooth motion and lowering her to the soft grass beneath their feet. 

He began to loosen the fastenings of her breeches with a practiced ease. Tav watched, breathless, as he slid the fabric down her thighs, his mouth following with indolent, open-mouthed kisses. Each touch of his lips on her heated skin left her skin tingling, her hips canting slightly into the open air.

Finally bare before him, she watched as Astarion surveyed her from where she lay beneath him. In nearly all respects, he looked primed and ready to ravage her. His nostrils flared, detecting the heady scent of her arousal. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths. For the first time, she took note of the considerable erection straining against the leathers he still wore. 

After a moment, he came down to lie beside her, pulling her onto her side so that her chest was pressed flush against his. He trailed a hand down her side, over the rise and fall of her curves, until he reached her thigh. He hiked her leg onto his hip.

But something was off. Amid her clouded thoughts, Tav thought she could sense it, even if she couldn’t precisely put a finger on it. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes? Or the perfect nature of his behavior? He seemed almost too practiced, too formulaic. Like an actor who’s rehearsed their lines to the point that the words have lost their meaning. He was there with her, but somehow he wasn’t, at the same time. 

“Are you all right?” Tav asked in a hushed voice, lifting a hand to cup his neck. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumb across his jawline.

“I’m more than all right, darling,” he replied with a smirk, squeezing her ass lightly.

 “You seem like… you’re not wholly present,” she explained.

“It’s difficult to decide what I’d like to do to you first,” he reasoned, sidestepping her unspoken question. “I’m torn between tasting you with my tongue, or fucking you with my fingers,” he smirked. 

Before she could respond, his fingers took an experimental swipe between her folds. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking against him. She watched, speechless, as he lifted that hand to suck the wetness from his fingers. Her wetness. In his mouth. 

He groaned in approval. “Mmm. You’re pure sweetness, darling.” 

All thoughts eddied from her mind. A singular, primal focus took over, and she suddenly clutched at Astarion’s neck with newfound ferocity. 

He seemed to know exactly how his behavior had affected her, if his impish grin was anything to go by. He lowered his hand to swipe against her once again, his fingers stopping to circle that sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs. Tav jerked in response, but Astarion had been prepared for it. He used his other arm to brace against her back, locking her in place against him. 

As she writhed against his hand, he repositioned himself to insert a finger inside her. She was deliciously warm and soaking wet. Soft, like velvet. His thumb continued to circle her clit, eliciting a long, low moan from Tav. Embarrassed, she attempted to muffle her voice by ducking her face into his chest. 

He chuckled again. “That’s it, sweet one. Let me hear you,” he goaded her. Her moans pitched higher in response. 

After a few moments of pistoning in and out of her, he inserted a second finger. But despite how drenched she was, he met considerable resistance, to his surprise. He stilled his fingers in response, uncertain. 

It took a moment for Tav to register that Astarion had stopped moving inside her. Caught somewhere between discomfort and satisfaction, the increased sense of fullness his two fingers brought was strange but not altogether unwelcome. She exhaled, but it came out as more of a hiss than a sigh. After a moment of stillness, she raised her head to look at him.

“What is it?” she questioned..

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Astarion murmured. 

Tav flushed. He’d realized, despite her best efforts to cover up that truth. Absently, she wondered what had given her away. 

She said nothing at first, just studied him. He didn’t seem angry. But then again, she had quickly learned that Astarion was very skilled at masking his true feelings. 

“No. I haven’t,” she admitted.  

At her reply, he gently removed his fingers from inside her. He moved his hand to clutch her hip instead. 

She sighed, rolling onto her back, gazing up at the stars. “Is that going to be a problem for you?” 

Silence. It felt deafening in her ears. But then –  

“I’m a bad choice, darling,” he replied, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over her hip bone. She failed to see the sad smile that graced his mouth. “A terrible choice, really. For your first time.”

“It’s my decision,” she retorted, lolling her head to the side so she could look him straight in the eyes. “I want it to be you, Astarion. But if this is going to be a… problem for you, or become some ordeal where you feel guilty or weirdly triumphant, then we can just–” 

“It’s not a problem for me. It’s your decision,” he affirmed softly, interrupting the beginning of her tirade. Some unknown emotion flitted across his features. He schooled his expression before she could really identify it.

“But I have to ask,” he continued, studying her seriously. “Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?” 

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for. 

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously. 

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

His eyes softened, obviously touched by her response. It was the first time tonight, she realized, that he had appeared vulnerable to her. He was staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. Like he couldn’t believe that the woman between his arms was real. 

Without another word, he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue swept in her mouth at the same time he inserted his fingers again, tasting her gasp of pleasure. His thumb began circling her clit once more, and Tav was powerless to silence her moans.

“Good. So good, sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear after a few moments. “You’re so close.”

She let loose a whine, squeezing her eyes shut as she chased that ever-nearing precipice inside her. Astarion’s voice in her ear only pushed her that much closer.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he urged, and she felt her orgasm rip through her at his words. Stars collided behind her eyes as she tumbled from that cliff of pleasure, Astarion holding her and whispering soft praises as she floated back down to earth. 

Eventually her eyes fluttered open to see Astarion smiling openly at her. She felt her lips stretch up to return his grin.  

“That was… incredible,” she breathed. 

He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m not nearly finished with you. Unless you’d like to sto–”

“No,” Tav blurted, a little too loudly, interrupting him. “No. I want more. Please. Show me.”

“Of course, darling” Astarion promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He gently released her and stood, beginning to remove his own clothing. Tav watched him brazenly, drinking in the sight of him. 

She moaned softly as he removed his breeches, his impressive length springing free. He remained still, allowing her to take in the sight of him fully naked before her. Curious, she sat up and lifted a hand to wrap around him. She marveled at the way he felt. Like velvet-wrapped steel. She gave a tentative stroke, thrilling as he groaned in response. She stroked him again, harder, intent on learning how to give him as much pleasure as he’d already given her. 

But he stayed her wrist with a gentle touch of his hand. She paused, looking up at him, confused. 

“As exquisite as teaching you how to stroke me would be,” he explained in a sultry voice, “I’m much more interested in teaching you something else tonight.”

Tav nodded mutely, lying back once more. She opened her legs for him to return to her. Astarion smiled, lowering himself on top of her. He braced his forearms on either side of her head, one hand absently combing through her hair. His hips fit perfectly in the cradle of her thighs, and she moaned as she felt him gently nudge against her entrance. 

“This is going to hurt at first,” he explained in a hushed whisper. She nodded, her breathing a bit uneven in anticipation of what would come next. 

“But then it will stop. You’ll stretch around me. And then it will feel good,” he continued. 

She nodded again, trying to remain focused on his words. But the primal part of her mind was warring against her. And it was winning. She subconsciously bucked her hips into him, marveling as she felt him slip between her folds just slightly. He hissed at the sensation, clenching his jaw.  

“Greedy little thing,” he chastised teasingly. “All right, enough talking. But you will tell me if you need to stop, yes?” 

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred.

And then slowly, gently, he sheathed himself fully inside her with a groan. 

Tav gasped in response. It was unlike any feeling she had ever felt before. Astarion had been right; it was painful at first. A pinching sensation. A mind-bending feeling of fullness. But then, but then, the feeling was phenomenal. She felt her walls stretch to accommodate him, felt herself clench around him, accepting him in his entirety. 

Astarion’s head dropped to the crook of her neck. His whole body trembled, as if it was taking all his restraint to remain still so she could grow accustomed to him. 

She canted her hips into him a bit, testing the waters. He groaned again in response, and she released a breathy chuckle. 

He raised his head at the sound, peering down at her. “You little minx,” he breathed. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

She thrilled at his words, crying out in ecstasy as he began to thrust in and out of her. The pace he set was addicting; the rhythm had her pushing her hips up to meet him, her legs locked around his back to pull him closer.

“You’re taking me so, so well, darling,” Astarion grunted, ratcheting up his pace. “You’re so tight. So. Perfectly. Fucking. Tight.” 

His words were a fuel to her flame. She cried out his name again and again as he continued to rut into her, reveling in the feeling of him claiming her completely and totally. She was lost to the sensations, adrift in the fullness of Astarion inside her. 

Finally, or perhaps all too soon, she felt his pace begin to grow more erratic. His hips lost their rhythmic pumping. His groans grew louder. Sensing his release was close, Tav clutched him tighter, digging her heels in his back to pull him closer, clenching around his length inside her. 

“Yes, yes, FUCK,” he barked all at once, and her eyes rolled back into her head as he slammed himself to the hilt inside of her one final time. She could feel his release spilling inside her. 

Lost for words, she simply held Astarion as he half-collapsed on top of her, one arm still braced on the ground beside her head. Listless, euphoric, and utterly at peace, Tav raised one arm to gently caress his back, listening to his erratic breaths slow. Distantly, she noted the raised, rough sensation of scars on his upper back, but she was too consumed by their mutual pleasure to give it a further thought. 

Eventually, Astarion slipped out of her. He lowered himself to lie down beside her, curling one arm around her waist. 

Tav closed her eyes and curled into his side, suddenly overcome with drowsiness. “Thank you, Astarion” she whispered faintly. 

“For what, my darling?” he crooned, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. 

“For making my first time so wonderful,” she replied. 

She was asleep before he could think of a sufficient response. 

***

The panic was a monstrous thing. Clawing at his chest, its vice-like grip squeezing his lungs until inhaling felt like breathing through a reed. He could barely think. Barely move. Barely registered the lovely woman still sleeping peacefully beside him. 

The part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in fear chastised himself for behaving this way. He had taken plenty of virgins before. In fact, he had sought them out specifically. They were a much easier prey. They became attached to him so quickly, attributed so much more meaning to their first bout of lovemaking than perhaps more… seasoned individuals. 

He should have been elated. She was obviously besotted with him. His plan to ensure her loyalty was moving forward without a hitch. So then why was he feeling so horrible?

He turned to observe Tav. So close to him and yet so far away. Swept into that blissful sleep that continued to elude him. He watched her chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. Watched her eyelids twitch as her mind made its way through some dream. She was so very vulnerable in this position. And so very trusting. Of him, of all people. 

Astarion didn’t like many people. But he had developed a fondness for Tav, despite the short period of time they had known one another. She treated him like a person, not a monster. Not like the others in their party. She seemed to accept him for who he was, cynicism and vanity and all. He couldn’t remember ever knowing someone as kind to him as she was. She was… incredible.

And then it struck him. He was developing… something… for her. Feelings? Affection? The sentiments were so foreign to him, he didn’t even know what to call it. 

But the realization caused panic to clutch him even tighter. No. He couldn’t feel this way. He wouldn’t. 

This thing with Tav was purely transactional. It had to be. There was no other viable option. She had needed to feel something with someone. He had needed to secure an ally. That was all.

That is all this is, he thought, quashing the weak sentimental part of his mind. 

And come morning, he resolved he would make certain that that was all this was for her as well.  

***

Tav woke to the sound of birds chirping, high in the trees above her. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the forest, dappling her skin and warming her in the places that it touched. Opening her eyes, she spied Astarion, already dressed and standing a few paces in front of her. 

His back was facing her, his face lifted toward the sun. She noted how he held his arms outstretched by his sides, palms facing up as though he were trying to collect all the sunlight pouring into their little grove. Despite his preternatural sense of hearing, he didn’t seem to be aware that she’d awoken, so lost was he in his enjoyment of the sun’s rays. 

Tav’s heart nearly swelled to bursting as she watched him. Before all of this, he hadn’t felt the sunlight on his skin in over 200 years. Now, he was reveling in it. His joy was such an innocent, pure thing. 

How many times had Tav taken the sun warming her skin for granted? Probably all of her life, she supposed. To see someone so appreciative of something so utterly mundane to her… well, it was a sobering reminder to acknowledge those little pleasures in life, especially the ones that seemed so constant to her. 

She also took the time to study the strange pattern of scars on his back. She had felt some of the rough ridges last night, as she clutched him closer while he spilled himself inside her. But she hadn’t realized just how intricate and intentional the markings were. The sight of them sparked a rage inside her. Whoever the monster was who’d done this to him, they deserved to pay a price worse than death. 

Someday soon, she swore she would ask him about those markings. But not today. Not right now. Not in the aftermath of spending such a wonderful night together. No, the only thing she wanted for them both today was to revel in post-coital bliss. 

Not wishing to startle him, Tav intentionally laid back to stretch out her blissfully sore muscles, rustling the grass and fallen leaves around her. She threw in a halfhearted yawn for good measure. Secretly, she hoped he would return to her, take her again in this quiet forest, beneath the warmth of the sun.

“You sleep light,” Astarion chuckled, half-turning to speak to her but not meeting her gaze. “I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.” 

Tav hesitated at his tone. It wasn’t cold per se, but he sounded much more guarded than he had been last night. Perhaps she was just being extra sensitive in light of what they had shared, she reasoned.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked hesitantly. She watched his back, waiting for a reply. “It felt like… you weren’t truly there…” she added, after a beat of silence. 

“I was… holding back a little, it’s true,” he finally responded. “I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were… I didn’t want to go too far.”

“Oh, I see,” Tav replied, a bit dismayed. “I’m sorry you felt that way.”

Astarion turned and gave her a trademark smirk. “Think nothing of it, darling. Now,” he intoned, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get on? We’ve wasted enough time already.”

The words were like a lance to her heart. 

“I… I didn’t consider it a waste,” she murmured, trying with some difficulty to hide her hurt. 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Astarion huffed. “I just meant I’d like to break camp and get out of here before those tieflings drag us into another one of their messes.”

“Sure, of course,” Tav nodded, smiling up at him, though it came across as more of a grimace. Then she broke eye contact, bending over under the guise of collecting her discarded clothing. Really, she didn’t think she could look at him a moment longer without crying. 

“I still need to dress,” she said, attempting a casual sort of air. “You go ahead without me.”

She sensed rather than saw Astarion hesitate at her suggestion. 

“Are you sure? We’re a fair walk from camp. I can spare a few moments and wait.”

“Positive,” she replied with false cheer. “Go on ahead. The last thing either of us need is the party jeering at us if we’d return together.” 

“Fair point,” Astarion conceded. “All right. Then… I’ll see you, back at camp.” Then he was walking away, back toward the direction of their fellow party members.

Tav waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before she let loose a quiet sob. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying. Maybe it was just the stress of everything that had finally overwhelmed her. Maybe it was how abysmally this morning had gone. She didn’t know how she’d expected the morning after a sexual tryst to go, but she certainly hadn’t imagined what had just taken place. She hadn’t expected Astarion to slip that aloof mask he wore so well immediately back on, not when it was still just the two of them here. 

Then again, she reasoned, perhaps there was a perfectly justifiable reason for his actions. They barely knew one another, after all. He didn’t owe her anything beyond general respect. They hadn’t made any promises or ties to one another. They had simply agreed on a night of pleasure. That night had passed on. She should move on as well. Right?

But she had hoped. Oh, she had hoped. That maybe last night could have been the start of something new for her. For both of them. She knew she was a dreamer at heart. But still, part of her couldn’t help but hope that some silver lining would come out of all of this mess. 

In any case, she knew she needed to pull herself together before reentering the camp. She would not let anyone see her cry, especially Astarion. So she remained standing in the grove for a few moments longer, collecting herself. 

She forced her mind to focus on anything, anything else. She counted the birds she saw flitting amongst the tree limbs. She watched leaves swirling in their light, airy dance toward the ground. And she said a silent prayer to whatever gods were out there and possibly listening. She prayed that everything would work out the way it was meant to be.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Twelve

I managed to get through another chapter of this fic hehe. This is just a cute lil chapter because we all need the fluff in our lives, especially myself. <3

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n has her realization about what's happening now, and has a talk with Jongho about his actions. wc: 2.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: playflighting, yelling, referencing last chapter's events without much detail, jokes about being hurt, mentions of discrimation and hate against omegas, self-doubt, crying, I think that's it? masterlist

Wooyoung’s laugh broke the silence that followed y/n’s realization. He couldn’t believe that it took y/n this long to realize what they had said back in the conference room. His laughter provoked the others into joining, to which they got yelled at by the subject of their laughter.

“HEY! Don’t laugh at me, there’s been a lot going on, okay? You try being in my shoes today and having this all happen to you and see how you react, huh?” She argued, only to make them laugh even further.

You- You really didn’t realize until now?” Wooyoung questioned her, his words being interrupted by his laughter.

“Obviously not, idiot.” She fired back at the idol, who jokingly reached over to try and grab her.

Seonghwa gripped the back of Wooyoung’s top, stopping the younger idol from reaching her. “No fighting. We just left a fight, we’re not starting another one.”

The restrained idol pouted and whined at Seonghwa. “It’s not like it’s a real fight, I was just gonna play around a bit.”

“And I think we’ve had enough excitement for the day, Youngie.” Seonghwa reasoned, and the other man continued to pout, and instead turned to tackle the pack omega, starting a little omega fight while they others watched.

Eventually the other younger members joined in, while Yunho and Hongjoong had moved a bit farther away to discuss something, leaving Jongho and y/n the only two left to their own devices. Y/n decided that this was a great time to get to know the fellow ‘00 liner better. They really hadn’t talked much since she arrived here, as she had been pulled this way and that by the other members. She scooted a bit closer to the maknae, leaving a bit of distance still, so that he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

Jongho turned to look at her, “Hi,” he greeted her, “I hope this day hasn’t been too much on you.”

“It could have been worse, y’know. I could have gotten hurt, but I didn’t,” y/n tried to joke, but it fell flat when Jongho didn’t find her words funny.

“You found out that the one person you trusted in that group, was out to hurt you. I think that counts as getting hurt.” Jongho stated, looking decidedly unamused at her attempts to joke. “You know it’s okay to feel hurt about it, and to mourn the loss of a friendship, right?”

“I know. I’m still processing it now, and I’ll come to terms with it.” The omega explained, looking down at her lap.

“Good. Otherwise, it was a bit of a waste to tackle him.” Jongho commented.

That made her think for a minute. Why exactly did Jongho decide to tackle Aaron? All he would have had to do was get the attention of the others, not tackle the man. She fell silent for a moment, and the silence worried the singer next to her.

“Why did you tackle him?” She asked him, breaking the silence.

“What?” Jongho said, not expecting the question.

“Why did you tackle Aaron? How did you even hear what he said over the yelling? We’ve barely interacted, why would you potentially get yourself hurt, over someone like him?” She queried, curious as to how he would answer.

Jongho didn’t think, answering right away. “He was being an absolute asshole, and I had to protect you from that, from him. I’ve seen how other subgenders’ treat omegas, and I’ve seen firsthand the effects of it. Seonghwa and Wooyoung-hyung have dealt with more than their fair share of discrimination and hate, simply for being omegas. I may not know you that well yet, but it seems that the rest of my pack is set on you, and so I think it’s time we get to know each other better. It may be an interesting way to start off a friendship, but I wouldn’t change my actions. His words and actions were despicable. And they’re not acceptable in today’s society, let alone in Ateez.”

Y/n’s eyes started to water as she listened to the maknae’s words, not expecting this answer. She didn’t realize that while getting lost in the idol’s words that her scent was getting stronger, the scent of fresh flowers fading into something much more subtle. One that could almost be described as wilting flowers, if they had a scent.

“What do you all see in me? I’m just me. I’m someone that none of you wanted in your group, and I’ve barely interacted with most of you besides Wooyoung and maybe Seonghwa and Hongjoong.” She asked him, unknowingly garnering the attention of the others, having heard their names.

“I see someone who doesn’t give up when they struggle. Someone who enjoys dancing and performing, just like we do.” Yunho chimed in, making y/n realize she had caught the attention of the others.

“Yunho’s right. You’re talented y/n. I may not have heard you sing yet, but on performance alone, you strive to get better and perform to the best of your ability. Sure, you need to work on stamina and a few other things, but Yunho and I have seen how determined you are. Y’know, Yunho commented that he sees me in you, in how you look after finishing a run through.” San further cemented his fellow dancer’s words.

She looked up at the two of them, who both smiled kindly back down at her, which made her tear up further. To hear those words from idols she’s admired and watched for so long, it made her efforts feel worth it. She felt like she could die happy in that moment, and she was so grateful to be here and have these experiences with the men surrounding her.

“You have such a kind heart, y/n. Your personality is what I see in you. Sure, talent and the ability to be an idol is important, but it’s also important to be sure of who you are, and to be kind. Fans can sense when we’re not being truthful, and I know that you have been nothing but honest around us and the others. So I think you’d fit in well as a member of Ateez.” Seonghwa stated, smiling softly down at her, before he moved to sit in front of her.

“Everyone is right, you know,” Hongjoong said, moving to sit behind Seonghwa, as he looked at her, “You’re an amazing person, and you’re a great singer. I trust our dancers to know where you’re at dancing skill wise, and based on what I just heard, that’s basically glowing praise from those two. You have been nothing but graceful and kind, and I find myself drawn to you, and I know Seonghwa and Wooyoung would be very unhappy if I let you go. So, will you trust our judgement and become the ninth member of Ateez?”

Y/n looked up at him, so many emotions clearly showing on her face. A tear trailed down her face as she processed all of their answers, and she could see her vision blur as tears welled up in her eyes. San came to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around the omega’s shoulders but loose enough if she wanted to pull away if it was too much for her. The comfort was welcomed as the younger omega leaned into the beta’s side, looking around at the seven members who had moved to sit in front and to the side of her, gentle smiles from each of them directed at her.

“You all really want me to be a member of Ateez?” She asked, her voice soft with an undertone of disbelief.

“Of course.” Seonghwa reassured her.

Y/n looked at Hongjoong, and nodded, “Then yes, I’ll trust your judgement and become your ninth member.” She said simply.

The room burst into a cacophony of noise at her words, and San pulls her closer in a side hug before Wooyoung swoops in on her other side, pushing Jongho away so he could sit right next to her. “Baby omega~,” Wooyoung crooned, “You’re really gonna be one of us!” He shouted, almost directly into her ear as she cringed away from him and into San, who scolded his fellow ‘99 liner for how loud he was being.

Someone reached out and grabbed her hands, and when she looked to see who it was, she found two people instead. Mingi and Yunho had both grabbed one of her hands, and she found herself smiling at them, and lightly squeezing their hands in silent thanks for everything they had done. Yunho had been a great help while perfecting their choreography, and while in the moment she had protested it, she was very thankful for Mingi’s help the previous day.

“Thank you both, so much.” She said, her voice so soft that the two had to strain their ears to hear her.

“You never need to thank us. We’ll always be by your side, and if you get better, then Ateez gets better, hmm?” Mingi told her, chuckling at the end, as Yunho nodded in agreement to his best friend and packmate’s words.

Y/n pulled out of Woosan’s hold to launch herself at the taller men, who caught her and hugged her as she struggled to hug them both at the same time. As the three hugged, she realized that holy fuck she would be spending however long Ateez existed with these men, and how that didn’t feel real, but she knew it had to be because she could feel the two bodies surrounding her. She felt so happy and the others smiled as her scent changed to reflect her feelings as Yeosang moved in to ruffle her hair as she let out a whine at the alpha messing up her hair. 

“Don’t do that!” She whined as she pulled a hand away from hugging the duo in front of her to rearrange her hair back to how it was before.

She heard her name called and she looked to find that it was Jongho who had called out to her. When he saw that she was looking at him, he nodded his head and smiled, before pointing to something to the other side of her. She smiled back at him before looking to find Seonghwa and Hongjoong watching all of them with big smiles on their faces and looks of fondness for the six men surrounding her. She moved out of Yunho and Mingi’s hold and got up, heading over to the two eldest and leaders of the Ateez pack.

“Why are you two over here by yourselves?” She asked them.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Seonghwa asked her in return.

“Of course there does.” She fired back.

“Can’t we just observe our members having fun and enjoying themselves?” Hongjoong interrupted.

“No, because you two need to join in too.” She said, getting a bit fired up at the two not joining in on the happy moment.

“Someone is a bit insistent, aren’t you?” Seonghwa said, chuckling.

Y/n gave up on trying to convince them to join the other six, grabbing the pair’s hands and tugging the two behind her as they let themselves be pulled along, not minding in the least. She made the two sit down before she would sit down, eventually being pulled down herself to sit in between the two. 

“So now we can have trios!” Wooyoung broke the silence, making the others laugh.

“Yes Wooyoung-ah, we can have trios. Not that we wouldn’t have had them already, in the upcoming album.” Hongjoong pointed out to the younger man, who pouted at being reminded of that fact.

“Trios?” The newest member questioned, looking at the captain.

“Wooyoung, San and Yeosang are doing a trio for their unit song in the upcoming album, which we need to get you on, but that’s a discussion for tomorrow. Today we’ll just celebrate you becoming our newest member.” Hongjoong explained.

“Yes! We’re celebrating you today! Our newest member and my baby omega!” Wooyoung shouted, getting slapped on both shoulders by San and Jongho, who had gotten the lion’s share of his shouting. This made the omega pout, and then was promptly tackled by San. The others laughed at their shenanigans, and it made y/n feel right at home here with them as she laughed along with them.

“Are you ready to deal with this craziness every day?” She heard, looking to find that Hongjoong was the source of the question. Before she could answer, Seonghwa moved away from the duo to police the roughhousing that had started.

“Probably not, but I don’t think I have a choice now, do I?” She replied, to which he shook his head.

“No, you don’t,” He said, pausing for a moment before speaking again, “Thank you for giving me a second chance after what I did that first day.”

“Of course, Hongjoong-oppa. You meant your apology, so I had no reason not to give you another chance. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now. And I should be thanking you for giving me a chance, for taking me in as part of your group.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Your actions last night helped cement that you fit in with us, in a way that makes me think that you were meant for Ateez.” Hongjoong said, looking down at her with more emotions in his eyes than y/n could discern. She could see that adoration that he usually reserved for his members, and it was hard for her to reconcile the idea that he’d look at her this way too, because she was one of his members now. But she knew she’d come to terms with all of this, though it might take a while.

Hongjoong saw the wonder in her eyes and disbelief, which he understood, and he wouldn’t fault her for feeling that way, when he’s felt the same way before. He reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders, like San had done not long before, as he felt her do the same, albeit her arm was around his waist instead. Checking to see that no one was looking, he leaned his head on hers, and out of instinct with his two omegas, kissed the top of her head without thinking about it, leaving y/n to be surprised and feel her cheeks heating up at his actions.

“You two are getting cozy together again,” Seonghwa commented, his voice soft, as he sat back down next to the two.

Hongjoong pulled away from her, glaring halfheartedly at his pack omega. The omega only chuckled in response, not deeming there to be a need to respond verbally. The arm that was around her shoulders reached over to lightly shove the omega sitting next to her, making her giggle.

“So, sweetheart, what do you want to do today? It’s your decision.” Seonghwa asked, turning himself to look at her.

She hummed, not exactly sure what she wanted to do, plus the fact that she hadn’t exactly gotten a chance to go out and explore Seoul, so she didn’t know what there was to do, besides the obvious things.

“I don’t know?” She replied to the older man, “I haven’t gotten a chance to explore Seoul, as I think you might be aware of? So I don’t really know what there is to do around here?” She answered, her voice uncertain.

“We can always pick a few of our favorite things to show you? Would that be something you’d be interested in doing?” Yunho butted into the conversation, making the three look over to find that he had abandoned the other’s play fighting.

“That would be good. It makes it a little easier on me, than trying to figure out what there is to do, and I can get to know each of you a bit better that way too.” She said, nodding and smiling at the third-eldest.

“Then we’ll do that.” Hongjoong decided as he pulled away from y/n, who let out an almost inaudible whine in response to the alpha leaving her side, before being embarrassed at her reaction.

While Hongjoong went to corral the others, Seonghwa and Yunho discussed their favorite places and activities with y/n, providing her some options on what to do today. It was a little overwhelming, but she knew that they wouldn’t push her into doing too many things.

Once everyone was corralled over to where y/n and the others were sitting, they immediately launched into a discussion. Some were more enthusiastic than others, but in the end, they had created a list that featured almost one place or activity from every member. They had decided to start with whatever was farthest from KQ and work their way back to the company. This was also all done without the permission of their managers or the company, but they could care less about that.

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[lewdmommie]

Just friends

Summary: can y/n manage being just friends?

Word count: 7.k

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, oral sex, language, fluff, angst, violence, gore, sexual content,panic attack etc

(Like, comment, reblog for part four💗)

This is part 3 of one night stand

Part 1

Part 2

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You state firmly. Your tone was completely different from your usual lighthearted and funny personality. König and Ghost have quite literally seen you crack a joke in the middle of open gunfire. This was uncharted territory for them, whatever you were about to say had to be important. You take a deep breath, thinking of your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone again…especially König.

“Spit it out rookie.” Ghost says annoyed.

“Oh god how do I even say this…I feel something…something I can’t explain when I’m with you.” You look at König, he shifts nervously under your gaze.

“And with you.” Your head turns to face Ghost, staring into those glimmering obsidian eyes. He breaks eye contact looking far off into the distance without a word.

“I don’t know what it means but I know it’s something I can’t ignore.” Your brow scrunches as you choke the words out.

“I want to get to know you both and I’m here to ask for that opportunity. I’m here to ask you to be my friends. No titles. No rankings. No romance. Just…friends.” Your teeth nibble at your lower lip waiting for someone else to talk. It was nerve racking not being able to read their facial expressions. Their body language didn’t give much away either, you shift on your heels.

“That’s what you barged in here to ask for… friendship?” He slowly rises from his desk glaring in your direction.

“Well…yeah” Your voice is low.

“Do you really think friendship can fix everything?” Königs voice is dark, he speaks the word friendship as if it was something rancid on his tongue.

“I’m not saying it can I just…” you explain.

“I don’t need to be a part of whatever you two have going on. Leave. both of you.” Ghost barks.

“You seemed to be a part of it yesterday when you had your hands all over her.” König rasps, turning his killer gaze onto him. Ghost strides from behind the desk, his heavy footsteps fill the air as he takes slow deliberate steps forward. The tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. A chill runs down your spine as you’re standing flush in between these skyscrapers. He stands tall looking König straight in the eyes, not even acknowledging your presence between them.

“I don’t like your tone colonel. I think you’d better change that.” His head tilts mockingly, sizing him up.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you sergeant.” He beams into him like white hot lasers.

“Hah, you’ve always been balsy König, could always count on you to get the job done. But I want you to remember something…you can beat them out there on that battlefield but here this is my territory and you won’t win.” He steps closer making sure he heard every word.

“Why don't we find out serg.” He says through clenched teeth. At this point you’re sure they have completely forgotten your existence . You plant your palms on ghosts chest pushing him back, he seemed to snap back to reality realizing you were still there.

“This isn’t the time or the place…no war within our army. Those are your words sergeant! As a leader you have to practice and enforce that as law. König I know you’re angry and have every right to be but last night was training and that’s all. I won’t keep repeating myself anymore, I get that it’s hard to trust but you’re going to have to try.” You scold.

“ Why do you care so much? How can you stand here and act like you know what I want. You don’t know anything. I’ve never given you the impression that-“ Simon rambles.

“I know it sounds stupid, crazy even, but I know you want to get closer to me Ghost.” You say gently, König tenses at the soft tone of your voice…had you ever spoken to him that way? He couldn’t recall a time you had, and that made him envious.

“You need someone. You’ve spent so much of your time in isolation, it’s time to let people in.” Never had he heard you sound so sure of yourself.

How could you break down his walls so easily, there is something about you that made him feel at ease. When he’s with you it feels like he’s allowed to smile,Things feel easier…happier. But he knew from experience things like this didn’t come so easy. People always get hurt when love is involved.

“And König…I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of being angry and resentful towards each other. These past few weeks have brought us closer together and I don’t want to ruin that with one misunderstanding.” His face burns tomato red under his mask, but he wouldn’t show it. His shoulder stiffen as if he’d been sliced across the chest. How could such beautiful words hurt this bad , you’d summed up his feelings for you perfectly but he couldn’t shake the thought of you being so involved with Ghost. Being your friend sounds like absolute torture but it was a ray of hope. Hope that one day maybe you would undoubtedly love him back. He felt like a lost puppy waiting to be owned by you…it was foolish but he couldn’t stop himself. Your naivety muddled the fact that this would be war and you were the prize.

“It has always been you. I’ve got so much blood on my hands it could run a river red and yet you were granted the title of sergeant. You’ve somehow made sure I was one step below you but that’s gonna change. You said I couldn’t win…watch me.” He says sharply.

“So this is your playing field…her?” Ghost looks you up and down with judgmental eyes. You grimace wondering why he looked so unimpressed.

“Hah, fine I’ll bite. What are the rules of the game?” Ghost chuckles, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“We get individual days to spend with y/n and the other person cannot interfere.”

“And what about the days that aren’t accounted for?” His head tilts curiously.

“First come first serve. It’s up to y/n who she would want to spend that free time with even though I know it’ll be me. No one likes being around you.” König taunts, it isn’t clear if it’s the jealousy talking or the militant hunger for victory. Either way you didn’t appreciate them auctioning off your time and affection like some silly little game.

“You’re on. It’s about time I remind you of your place, colonel.” He reaches out an open palm, König grasps it firmly, shaking on the terms.

It’s like everything you said completely went over their heads but you knew it would take patience and time to build a stronger relationship with them. If thinking of it as a competition got them on board, then you’d just have to play along.

~

Your arms tremble as you push the weighted bar up with all your strength. Your shoulders burn with each rep begging for a break, to your body’s dismay, you were just warming up. You look up into caramel colored eyes, Maya smiles down at you as she helps support the weight of the bar. With a final push you line it up with the metal stand, it lands with a loud crack. You sit up, sweat pouring down your face. Maya removes the white towel from around her neck, she dabs away the stray droplets as they fall. She was always right there at your side helping you with even the tiniest of things.

“Remember to hydrate. The body can lose up to 10 liters of water a day when active.” She hands you her purple water bottle.

“Your knowledge never ceases to amaze me, you're gonna make a great doctor one day.” You tip the bottle up, taking several gulps before coming back up for air. Maya’s eyes softened, she needed to hear that; with all the death and injuries on base that passion could be lost. She is a practicing apprentice Doctor on base as she studies remotely to get her doctorate in medical science. Balancing education with active military duty was no easy feat, personal attachment can get in the way. People she laughed with, pulled pranks on, sat and had meals with…had died in her arms. Brutal excruciating deaths that she could do nothing about. No matter how hard she tried to save everyone…their blood still stained her hands. She thought often about what she would do if you got hurt…could she save you? Maya shakes the negative thoughts away reminding herself that you were one of the special forces best. You may be a handful but you were damn good at your job.

“Thank you y/n, you don’t know how much that means to me.” She stamps a kiss on your forehead.

“I walked in on Sergeant Ghost and Colonel König talking about some new intel on the target. There might be a raid soon, I know how anxious you are with new missions.” A look of discomfort flashes on her face leaving just as quickly. She puts on a fake smile not wanting to put any more stress on you. You were the one who would be out there on the front lines risking your life and she didn’t want to worry you.

“I’m okay,really, you get used to it.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince you or herself.

“If you ever need to talk…I am here Maya. I’m always here.” You bore into her with sincere eyes.

“and that’s why you’re my best friend. Now come on, we gotta keep that heart rate up.” She takes your hand, helping you to your feet. The two of you walked over to the pull up bar, arm day was not fun…at all. Your muscles were already achy and tired but you had to push in order to build endurance.

“Can’t I just work on legs today, that’s so much easier.” You whine, Maya laughs patting your lower back.

“As much as I agree with that statement, no. You handle high caliber weaponry. if you’re not strong, All that push back could damage your muscles.” She raises her arms holding the stretches in ten second intervals. Because of her insane height there is no need to use a stepping ladder, she simply reaches up and gets to work. Her fingers graze the bar before pulling back suddenly.

“I forgot my chalk, it helps prevent blisters, I’ll be back. Go ahead and start your sets without me. I gotta run back to our room.” She jogs off leaving you standing alone in the gym. You always felt slightly self conscious being in the weight room without a partner. Like everyone was watching you. Judging you. In reality no one even glanced your way but that didn’t stop the anxiety from striking. A small tremor shakes your hands as you reach up for the bar. It’s way too tall to grab on your own, Maya was usually there to give you a lift. You scan the area for a spare stepping stool or chair but everything is occupied. Eyes. Eyes everywhere. There looked to be two of everything as your vision doubled.The room begins to spin and your knees feel weak, where was Maya? When would she be back? Maya? Maya? Maya?!

“Y/n look at me. Are you okay? Should I take you to the infirmary?” Your vision begins to focus turning the two ghosts in front of you, into one. Your breathing is shaky, you nod unable to speak. His head tilts forward with concern, his bare hand cups

your elbow as he pulls you closer.

“Your eye movements are unsteady,breathing accelerated, pupils dilated…you’re having a panic attack. Talk to me y/n what is distressing you?” His voice is gentle, calming even.

“People. Just so many people. M-Maya left… I’m alone. I-I don’t like being alone.”you choke. His heart breaks at your words, loneliness was no stranger to him. Thinking back, Ghost couldn’t recall a time when you weren’t surrounded by people. He figured it’s because of how likable and fun you were but now the dots began to connect. You made sure to never be alone because it scared you…just like it scared him.

“I’ll stay with you.” His voice was earnest, he surprised himself with his sudden reaction. Normally Ghost worked out alone as he did with most things. But he wanted to help you, seeing you so shaken up tugged at something deep inside him.

“That’s it…slow deep breaths. One…two… exhale three. Very good.” He coaches. He looked to be very familiar with this sort of thing, you wondered if he’d dealt with this before. Ghost didn’t seem like the type to deal with anxiousness, he was always so cool headed.

“I’m good now.” You huff.

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere more private.” Your face heats up at his word choice, you remember the wet dream from just nights ago.

“N-no I’m fine, I still have a few sets to do.” You slide your elbow from his grasp.

“Then let’s do it… I assume your next set is pull ups and judging by your size, you usually have Maya help you up?” He hypothesized walking behind you to examine the bar.

“Yeah Maya always lifts me up-“ your words are cut off by his strong hands sinking into your waist. His fingers press into the soft plush of your hips, the crotch of his cargos rubs against your ass. His eyes fall low as he stares down at you, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles. You don’t speak up, getting lost in the comfort of his touch. The rush of his heart vibrates through your back, the rise and fall of his chest quickens. You can hear the heaviness in his breath, the heat in his mask makes sweat bead at his brow. This isn’t the first time your bodies have met this closely but somehow this felt…Different. You snap to the reality that there is a room full of people here witnessing this moment. That idea made you focus on the initial goal…pull ups.

“I’m ready.” You assure, jumping as he hoists your body up with ease. Your fingers begin to slip, ghost bounces you up, allowing you to readjust the grip.

Even with the extra help, your arms burn as you pull the entirety of your weight up and over the bar. Your chin taps the cool metal marking one successful rep, ghost pats your thigh.

“Good job, make sure you’re breathing with each pull.” He instructs, his arms squish the fluff of your upper thighs. You nod, extending the length of your arms preparing for the next pull. Ghost is painfully aware of how your ass is pressed against his upper chest. His face is inches from the smooth damp skin of your back, his eyes track the small trickle of sweat that runs down your spine. He says a silent prayer, begging not to get hard in front of his subordinates. Even the slightest touch of your body drove him fucking mad, he’d been attracted to women before but never like this. Those thoughts were always intrusive and fleeting, he didn't let his mind wander too deeply but you…he imagined ripping those mauve pink leggings open and ramming every solid inch of his cock inside you. He hated how much control you had over him without even trying.

“I-I can’t take anymore” you groan, feeling the intense burning sensation growing in your arms.

Oh come on, he thinks. You couldn’t have chosen a better word choice, a shock shoots up his leg activating his dormant member. He nearly drops you as the mirror shows him a glimpse of his hard dick poking through his gray sweatpants. He couldn’t let you see him like this, before you could blink your feet were on the ground and ghost was B lining it to the men’s locker room.

“Hey wait where are you going?!” You call as he scurries away. He doesn’t turn around or even answer as he disappears into the white locker room door. Well that was rude, you think. You were used to him treating you like some kind of germ but this seemed off and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

~

There still hadn’t been any sign of Maya since earlier in the weight room, a sinking feeling pulls at your stomach. It wasn’t like her to just up and disappear without saying a word . The military base wasn’t the biggest in the world so there weren't many places she could have gone. Your eyes scan the mess hall landing on the table you two usually shared. Empty. No sign of her at all, you begin to worry what would keep her from eating lunch. Lunch is Maya’s favorite time of day apart from breakfast and dinner, this was strange. You look at the lunch line and physically cringe when you see that ominous brown paper bag with your name on it. It wouldn’t bother you one bit if you never saw another peanut butter and jelly ever again. You snake through the crowd and head toward the exit deciding to go search for her, it’s what she would have done for you. Just as you burst out of the sea of soldiers there is a deep voice bellowing down the long tan hallway.

“Y/n” a voice rumbles in the distance. Loud heavy footsteps shake the ground as König jogs in your direction.

“I didn’t see you in the mess hall, have you eaten already?” His words are rushed and nervous.

“No I haven’t, I was actually going to-“ he chimes in disregarding the rest of your sentence.

“That’s perfect! I wanted to invite you to have lunch with me.” His voice sounds energetic.

“Well I was just about to go look for Maya…” you trail looking around trying to spot her.

“Oh I saw her a few minutes ago when I was walking past the infirmary.” He says. The infirmary should have been the first place you looked, Maya did tons of overtime with Dr.Bradshaw. Extra hours counted as field work for her university grade, but overworking wasn’t always a good sign for her. You take a mental note to ask her later not wanting to disturb her study time with the Doctor. There was a nagging urge to ask König exactly what she was up to when he saw her but you decided not to snoop. If there was an issue she would come to you about it, you were always there for her and she knew that…or at least you hoped she did.

“Oh okay then I’ll just talk to her later thanks.” You spin on your heels ready to jog back to the cafeteria. A leather gloved hand entraps your wrist, holding you still. Your head whips around staring up into his forest green eyes, they dart back and forth searching your face.

“I’m sorry, I-I uh did you have plans for lunch today? If so I completely understand…I know you might still be worried about Maya.” His voice is shaky.

“No I don’t have plans for lunch, ugh I’m the one who should be sorry I almost blew you off just now. What kind of friend am I?” You joke. His chest tightens at the word friend, he drops your hand back to your side. It catches your attention but you breeze by it not wanting to cause any damage.

“I’d love to have lunch with you König.” You say enthusiastically trying to salvage the situation.

“Perfect. Let’s go, try to act normal.” He nods in the directions of the exit motioning you to follow his lead. You had a feeling this was going to be another mission impossible, König mixed with the words “act normal” never turned out good. Since the recent feud with ghost he was more rebellious than ever. You cautiously walk behind him trailing him out of the double doors, the sun beats down on your skin. Your eyes squint from the sudden lighting change, your hand lifts to shade your forehead blocking out the brightness. Las Almas Mexico was a beautiful mountainous place with endless desert views. There were small cities with an economy based on agriculture and farming. Like every major metropolitan region there are city areas for entertainment and tourism. The base was quite a distance from those areas, the deserts granted seclusion. Most of the drug activity and gang violence originated in the city areas. Although there were plenty of small gangs they all worked under the one major crime organization in the city…The Las Almas Cartel. The whole reason for your special forces deployment was to monitor and take down this organization. They participated in egregious crimes against the residents of Las Almas and helped push the drug epidemic throughout multiple countries. You walk forward,your shoulder brushes his arm ever so slightly. His eyes shift away with embarrassment, he hadn’t touched you since that night. People chirp hello’s as you slip through the ocean of workers, there were so many familiar happy faces in the crowd. You are grateful König is by your side or all the attention could have become overwhelming very quickly. It warmed your heart to be loved by so many but it became exhausting, always chasing approval from others.

König senses a shift in your mood, boldly, he rests his big hand on your lower back; ushering you along. He leads you to the vehicle repair and storage shed. There are lanes wall to wall filled with earth toned military vehicles ranging from Humvee’s to M113’s.

“Oh hey y/n! What are you doing all the way out here darlin’?” His southern twang is thick. The dimples in his cheeks deepen as he smiles toothy and big. His giant veiny hands stain the white cloth as he wipes away black sludge.

“Hey Jack, I hope we didn’t interrupt your work.”

“You could never bother me y/n seeing you is always a treat. Speaking of treats, where’s ol doll face Maya I haven’t gotten my daily fix of her.” He laughs. Jack was a flirt that was no secret but everyone knew about his unrequited love for Maya. Most people found her attractive but Jack’s feelings were public, making sure to scare off anyone who thought about making a move. They were just like an old married couple, arguing about any and everything.

“She’s working in the infirmary.” You explain.

“I’m gonna have to go and pay her a visit, she can’t run forever.” Wrinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles ear to ear.

You can’t help but cheese at his friendly face. König didn’t appreciate Jack's lingering gaze. His eyes slit with annoyance, why were you smiling at him like that? He thinks burning with jealousy.

“I’m taking a Jeep on patrol.” He stated plainly.

“Sure thing, I’ll just need to see that authorization letter from the sergeant.” He says wiping the oil from his cheek.

“I am your Colonel. I grant myself authorization.” His arms fold over his chest as he stands tall and confident.

“But the sergeant said-“ Jack starts.

“Unless you want to be scrubbing toilets for a week I suggest you give me the keys. If not, I’ll just have to report you for interference with a mandatory patrol. Are we clear?” His voice is stern. You find yourself gawking at him. his power had you melting in his gloved palm. König didn’t like abusing his power but there was no way he’d go beg ghost to allow him to take you out. If he wanted you to himself he would make that happen at any cost. It didn’t matter who he had to step over as long as he got to be with you. Jack stares him down for a moment weighing out his options, he could either disobey Ghost and get punished or disobey König and get punished. Great choices he think’s sarcastically.

“Look, if you’re gonna take her out you gotta be back before sunset or else ghost is gonna be on my ass…deal?” He extends a hand to König.

“Deal.” He takes his hand firmly.

“Here I just did an oil change on her so she’s the best I’ve got right now. I’m still repair’n the others.” He tosses him a set of Keys with a dog tag attached. König nods, throwing his black duffel bag in the back seat. You never understood the idea of jeeps being doorless but as you hop in it makes a little more sense. If you’re being shot at you could literally jump right in. You chuckle at the ridiculous thought of you diving into a moving jeep.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, clicking his seat belt and cranking the ignition.

“Nothing, it's dumb.” You laugh tugging the seat belt over your chest. He chuckles backing out of the garage. His arm lays across the back of your headrest as he looks behind him making sure no one was there. Your thighs clench at his focused body language, how did he manage to turn you on with such mundane tasks. The car whips around, he straightens the wheel and puts the gear in drive.

An armed soldier from the gate walks up to the driver's side scoping out the inside of the car.

“Colonel. Where are you headed?” He salutes.

“Me and y/n will be holding a patrol unit on the mountain. There’s been reports of suspicious activity by the locals.” He lies smoothly. The mask came in handy since without it every emotion he felt would be on display. König is, unbenounced to everyone else,a terrible liar. His face gives him away every time. Despite what people think he could be read like a book if it wasn’t for the mask.

“Yes sir. Open the gate!” He calls.

König’s shoulders relax as the metal gates swing open. Mission accomplished. He finally had you to himself for a day. After spotting your workout with the sergeant; he had to find a way to steal your attention back. Your head leans out the door watching in awe as the ground gets further away. The mountain road is bumpy and narrow, your hand grips the seatbelt tightly.

“Scared of heights?” He asks, looking over at you with concern.

“Of course not, keep your eyes on the road.” You scold.

“You know it doesn’t help to look down.” He reaches over, tugging your chin away from the ground. His fingers linger for a second before returning to the wheel. You’d seen this view from the chopper when you first arrived on base but this is a new perspective and it is gorgeous. The cacti bloomed with tiny magenta flowers, the dry soil cracked into interesting shapes. Small animals poke their heads from the grooves in the ground,and Even the sky is clear and vast. If maps didn’t exist you’d have sworn the land stretched on forever. The heat is also comforting, the sun wraps you in a tight embrace kissing your skin. You wished you could see his face, you wondered if he was enamored with the scenery just as you are.

“It’s amazing isn’t it…like a whole new world.” He breathes looking around curiously. One hand gripped the wheel and the other pointed to a viper green snake in the distance.

“Did you see that?!” He exclaims excitedly.

“I did.” You say softly.

He coughs awkwardly, he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you but animals are his weakness. He felt an obligation to protect creatures smaller than him, what better way to use his gigantic size. After what felt like an eternity he pulls into an open area at the top of the mountain overlooking the base. He puts the car in park and takes the key from the ignition. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning your body to hop down; König jogs around the vehicle blocking your path.

“Allow me.” He pretends to open an invisible door.

You jump down and punch his arm playfully. You both laugh filling the open air with joy. He admires you bent over laughing from your gut, a real laugh, that’s when you were most beautiful. He loved seeing happiness radiate from you, you wore it well. He wanted to make everyday a good day filled with bliss, he dreamed of one day being the one to make that a reality for you. He swings his duffel bag out with a huff walking over to a clear patch of land. With razor focus he unzips the bag unloading its contents onto the sandy ground. He lays a green blanket down before laying zip lock bags of mystery foods on to the cloth. To finish off the set up he sets up two colas on either side of the picnic blanket. It was one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, he plops down in the blanket waving you over. You can’t help but smile at the exquisite dining arrangement designed by the renowned König.

“Beautiful set up chef.” You joke.

“On today’s menu we have the chefs’ choice…Ham and cheese sandwich. My secret ingredient is melted cheese courtesy of today’s weather. Strawberries, hand picked by me from the local farmers market. And two delicious warm cokes.” Your nose scrunches in disgust, earning a hearty laugh from the colonel. His laugh was like liquid gold, it rumbled deep, shaking your core. It’s a shame others didn’t get to witness this playful side of him.

“Sounds… yummy.” You say snagging a ham sandwich. You unzip the bag and have an experimental bite. To your surprise it’s not too bad, somehow the sun melted cheese worked. Not something you’d have regularly for a snack but the fact that König cooked it, made it taste better. You can’t imagine him moving around the kitchen, did he keep the mask on or take it off? You giggle at the image of him with an apron and mask on.

“You’re always giggling and I’m never a part of the joke.” He pouts.

“I was just imagining you cooking in a cute little apron. Would you keep the mask on or take it off.” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He slips his sandwich under the hem of his mask, taking a bite. At this angle the sunlight glows behind you like a halo. König admires how angelic you are, he didn’t understand how someone could look so perfect. There wasn’t a word in any language that could describe your beauty, inside and out you were radiant. A rose blush sweeps his face, he looks away realizing how long he’s been staring. Butterflies flutter in your stomach.You turn away relocating your attention to the incredible view. At this height the wind whips strongly , blowing a cool breeze through the air. You close your eyes tilting your face to the sky, his eyes trail down your neck peering at the steady thump of your vein. He remembers the way you look with your pulse beating out of control;lustful eye low eyes staring back at him. That night you took a piece of him with you, he has never been so needy for a woman in his life. In a metaphorical sense you were a succubus and he would gladly give up his soul.

“God you’re gorgeous.” He breathes. Your eyes widen as you stammer for words nervously.

“W-what, you can’t just say that out of nowhere.” You stutter.

“Should I give you a warning next time?” He flirts.

“You’re always messing with me.” You slap his hand. He smirks loving how you crumble for him. He reaches over to grab the bag of fresh strawberries, his palm brushes the base of your thigh. He slides a berry under his mask, making a sound of approval.

“Mmm. These are really good. Try it.” He plucks a strawberry from the bag, holding it up to your lips.

You’re hesitant for a while looking at the berry in disbelief, he couldn’t be serious. This is definitely not something friends do but you do have a habit of overthinking things. Maybe this is one of those things, it’s just a strawberry, nothing less, and nothing more. You nod coyly, leaning in and wrapping your plump lips around the fruit as your teeth sink in; taking a small bite. His jaw tenses as he fights back the urge to lick the sticky juices from your mouth. With his free hand he lifts his mask, exposing the lower portion of his face. There is an intensity behind his eyes as he slides the rest of your half eaten berry past his blushed lips.

“You’re right, these are…really…good.” You trail as he closes the distance between you.

“Here, have some more then.” He bites another one. His giant hand rests at the back of your neck pulling you closer inch by inch. All thoughts evacuate your mind as his soft breath brushes your lips. He’s so close you can almost taste him. So achingly close that it makes your heart leap right out of your chest. Why was he doing this to you, making you yearn to feel him again. Reminding you of the mind bending orgasms he gave you that night. It wasn’t fair, how could you be friends when he is so irresistible? You can’t. You shouldn’t. You won’t. He brushes his soft warm lips over yours begging for permission, pleading for just one kiss. You did. You’re caught in his net as your lips meld desperately in a symphony of passion. His tongue spreads the strawberry nectar across your taste buds making the kiss intoxicatingly sweet. He shifts onto his knees towering over you, never breaking the kiss. He leans down deepening it, gripping the curve of your hips; a camo clad knee forces through the barrier of your thighs. It’s feverish and greedy, he kisses you like he’ll never get the chance to again. Your back arches into his touch, a loud moan echoes through the mountain as he teases your pulsing clit. The friction was unbearable, it felt good but it wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, needed more. Your pussy quivers as he breaks the kiss to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“W-we can’t. Friends don’t uhn-friends can’t do this.”You pant.

“I want to please you. I didn’t get to show you all of my tricks last time.” He whispers seductively. He pushes you back onto your elbows, clearing the picnic blanket in one swoop of his hand. You stare down at him, your breathing is erratic wondering what his next move will be. Strong calloused fingers work the complicated buckle of your work pants. Soon your pants are not only unbuckled but being slid down the length of your legs. Your chunky black combat boots prevented them from going any further so naturally he removed those too; leaving you completely exposed from the waist down. You couldn’t believe you were letting this happen and in a desert nonetheless. König wastes no time grasping your hips and lifting your pelvis, leveling your pussy with his eager mouth. Your shoulders and head rest on the blanket while your lower half is suspended upward; legs dangling on his hunched shoulders. Even with him leaning over, your ass is still elevated at a staggering height. You’re completely at his mercy, no matter how much you squirm his grip is iron tight. The black fabric of his mask sits on the plush of your mound hiding his face as he kisses your warm lower lips. You couldn’t see anything from this angle and the mask added even more security to his next action. You watch the clouds move up above as he traces the glazed slit of your entrance, your hips buck in response. A quiet whimper vibrates your skin as he tastes you for the first time, the scent of your arousal fills the limited space in his mask. Every breath he took was filled with you, that one lick already had his dick frustratingly hard and throbbing.

“Du schmeckst so verdammt fantastisch (you taste so fucking amazing)” he mumbles into your heat. It’s impossible to hold back any more, his tongue slithers up and down the slippery split of your cunt. The tip of his tongue draws circles around your stiff clit, he nips and sucks at the bundle of nerves making your legs shake. His hands sink into your thighs as he pushes deeper into your delectable pussy. The thick flat of his tongue laps at your labia teasing the wet folds of your outer sex. Your muscles contract as he explores every crevice of your dewy flower, your juices dribble down his chin as he teases the perimeter of your tight hole. You grind up into his face wanting him to go further tasting the deepest parts of your sweetness. His hands release your thighs leaving the heavy lifting to your core strength. Your body shakes as you fight to stay in this position not wanting the pleasure to end.

“That’s it, you're doing so good Schatz(love) you’re going to have to put in some work to cum.” He breathes. His hands tug at your shirt fighting to push it up past your breast. You decide to help him out, lifting your shirt and black bra in one motion; your nipples are stiff with arousal. He rolls your hard peaks between his fingers, teasing and caressing the sensitive buds. Your mouth falls slack as his tongue eases into you, your walls clench as he strokes your inner velvet. A sloshing wet sound fills the air as he fucks your cunt with his long skillful tongue. Your hands fist the blanket as you become overwhelmed by all the sensations. How could something wrong feel so good.

“No no no you can’t cum yet, I am still enjoying my meal.” He reprimands. You bite your lip and stare up at him with pleading teary eyes.

“P-please let me cum, s’to much c-can’t hold it please.” You cry.

“Look at me Prinzessin. Focus on me. Just like that, I’m so proud of you. Don’t give up beautiful. You're taking it so well.” He praises, locking eyes with you. He feels your pussy flutter on his tongue as you fight the urge to drench his face. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently, with a final pull sending you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum, need to cum fuck-“

Your spent cunt spurts delicious cream all over Königs face, drenching his mask.

“Look at the mess you made. Naughty girl.” He eases your body back to the ground, licking his lips. You lie there twitching, unable to form a coherent sentence.

~

“Suns going down. We’d better start heading back to base.” He says in a disappointed tone. He wished this day could last forever but that wasn’t realistic. The last thing he wanted to deal with was ghost pulling rank on him again. You nod helping him pack his duffel bag, he smiles as your hands brush when reaching for the same items.

“I had so much fun with you today.” You chat loading the leftover snacks into the bag.

“Me too. We should come back here soon, I’ll pack better lunches next time.” He promises, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Everything was perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” You assure, swallowing back the feelings of regret. What did this mean moving forward, did you make the mistake of leading him on again? König catches a glimpse of doubt on your face and speaks up.

“Today…never happened. We hung out, as friends.” He pats your head. You smile up at him appreciating his kindness and understanding, he knew you never meant to hurt him. Today was all on him, he took that step knowing what it meant and he’d do it again. He knows you need time to figure things out and he was done being impatient. He is sure about his feelings for you and is willing to wait as long as it takes.

“Let’s go.” He taps your butt as he walks by. You gasp smacking his back in return,trailing behind him to the jeep. He tosses the duffle bag in the back seat, walking around to help you into the car.

You stop in your tracks peering up into his beautiful lush green eyes, his heart thumps rapidly.

“Did you forget something?” He asks.

“No. You’re just…incredible you know that.”

“Y/n I-Get down!” He leaps forward shielding your body as you two tumble to the ground in a panic.

“Ah! Scheisse! I’ve been hit.” He groans, squeezing the oozing gunshot wound. A ringing sounds in your ears from the blast, everything moves in slow motion as you help him limp to the Jeep.

“A fucking sniper. We have to move! Now! Drive” he instructs baring down his teeth, holding back a scream. His leg is on fire, blood spurts between his fingers as he applies pressure. The gas pedal is touching the floor as you push the vehicle as fast as it’ll go. Your fist beats down on the horn trying to alert the front gate you’re coming in hot. one hand swerves the wheel frantically twisting and turning and the other is on Königs head holding him close as you quick fire words of affirmation.

“It’s gonna be okay, please stay with me. Hang on alittle longer. König? König?! Fuck!” You sob whipping the wheel back and forth making it harder for the snipe to aim. His consciousness begins to fade from the excessive blood loss; the once cream flooring of the Jeep is now a cherry red. His hand goes limp as he faints no longer applying pressure to the wound. He’s fading fast.

“No no no wake up. I know you’re sleepy but stay with me please please König we’re almost there.” Tears stream down your face as you beat down on the horn. The gate is a few feet away, the soldier on guard sees you approaching at 150 miles an hour. He sounds the alarm, triggering the gate to open up slowly. You can’t let up on the speed it’s too late, you have to push it. Any further delay could cost him his life, you slam your foot to the floor giving it all you’ve got. A loud crack slices through the air as you burst through the half opened gate, taking the side view mirrors off in the process. Both feet hit the brakes forcing you to a violent stop. You jump out, yelling for back up.

“Please help me, he's hit! The colonel has been shot! Please he isn’t responding help me!” You scream, wrapping your hands around his calf trying to stop the bleeding.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Maya runs up taking off her shirt to use as a makeshift tourniquet.

“They shot him.” You hyperventilate.

“Who shot him?! Get him to the operating room now!” She barks at the nearby soldiers.

“I-I don’t know…” you sob watching the men carry him away.

To be continued?…