#it's rather lame if the reaction of the people around me can be anything telling but i like to know stuff

[starpros-sunshine]

On one hand the fact that nobody dislikes me is good it saves me a lot of trouble on the other hand I want someone to dislike me I want someone to think I'm the worst thing that ever happened to humanity I need to be someone's Roman empire in a stupid way. I don't need them to make it my problem but the sheer comedy in being able to ruin someone's day just by existing in their near vicinity is something I'd just like to experience at least once is all....

[rogerswifesblog]

Omg I love "its all about the", I like that the roles are changed and we get to see how it could be when a man is the one needing some help!

I have a drabble request if I May, how would steve reaction if maybe a bussiness partner of the reader start to flirt with her?

Sending love 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Ohhh thank you! I’m glad you like the dynamics! Tbh I love them myself and have fun with these series/ideas etc:3

To your request…a jealous Stevie? 👀 here you go;

Series Masterlist

Warnings: jealousy, Steve being mean, bad expression of feelings, argument, (reader slaps Steve), alcohol consumption

Pairing: sugar baby Steve x sugar mommy reader

A/N: I’m slowly starting to write again wuhu

Steve started hating all those events were anyone wanted to talk to you. Businesspeople, random guests or anyone else, really. Too many people wanted your attention.

Your attention should be on Steve. Was he possessive? Of course not. (He definitely was.)

“When can we go home? We’ve been here for over three hours…that’s enough”, Steve whined next to you, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist. You chuckled quietly at Steve’s whining, kissing his cheek gently. “Stevie, just a bit longer-maybe you could get us something to drink? I’d like to have a mojito”, you asked, kissing his cheek once again.

He blushed lightly, but nodded. “Fine, one drink and then home?”, since you could tell Steve really wasn’t in the mood to stay any longer, you nodded. It was late anyway. Going home and cuddling on the couch, maybe watching a movie, sounded nice, too.

When Steve disappeared, someone else walked up to you, a man your age that you had met a few times during those dinner parties and events.

You were pretty sure he was also a CEO, though from a completely different company involving a clothing brand-not that you cared much about his company not his Welth.

“What a beautiful dress for a beautiful lady”, his first words were, making you smile a bit, it was a lame but friendly compliment. “Thank you, my boyfriend chose it-oh there he is”, you said when you’ve noticed Steve walked with two glasses.

“This guy? He looks like-“ “I’d be careful with what you choose to say next.” “No, no, I’m not gonna say anything…offensive. It’s just, he looks very young, I’m sure you could have a much better life with someone your age, someone like-“ your loud laugh interrupted his sentence, while you shook your head slowly.

“Thank you for your concern, but I couldn’t imagine a better life than the one I have now”, you said, smiling in Steve's direction. You could tell he wasn’t in the mood to stay here for much longer.

From the bar Steve could see you laughing with some stranger (he had to admit the man looked like a very wealthy and handsome stranger…). Scoffing he took the two drinks and walked quickly up to you, immediately placing a lingering kiss, looking at the stranger when he parted from your soft lips.

“Steve”, he introduced himself to the man. At least he was taller than this stupid guy. But he could tell Carlos-, from what he had introduced himself-had a lot of money, the Rolex showed it all, and he really didn’t want to know how expensive his suit was.

That’s when it hit him.

What if you’d get bored taking care of Steve’s finances all the time? What if you’d rather have someone taken care of your needs?

“Stevie, are you alright?”, you asked, seeing how lost he was in thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick, can you hold it for me?” Steve placed his glass in your hand, before disappearing.

“Someone’s in a bad mood, huh, it’s probably past his bedtime”, joked Carlos, making you furrow your eyebrows at him. If he was trying to achieve anything good, he was miserably failing. Especially when he was trying to insult Steve.

So you just kept quiet. “So, how long are you two a thing?”, he asked while leaning against the counter next to you, his shoulder touching yours. “We’ve been together for a while now. And we’re very happy together”, you said while sipping at your mojito.

“And is it serious or just for now? I’d love to try to change your mind about maybe seeing someone your age, you know, you’re a beautiful woman and a date wouldn’t hurt-“ “stop right there. I don’t want to go out with you, I’m in a relationship and I’m very happy, please stop pressuring me or this conversation will have to end right now”, you hissed, but kept a smile on your lips, since you didn’t want anyone to notice the unpleasant encounter.

When Steve joined you again, you immediately wrapped your hand around his bicep after he took his mojito from you. “I don’t feel like finishing the drink, I’m a bit tired”, you said to Steve but loud enough for Carlos to hear. “What a shame, it was such a pleasure to meet such a wonderful woman”, Carlos interrupted whatever Steve wanted to say and took the mojito from your hand, placing it on the counter before taking your hand and pulling it up to his lips, leaving a kiss on your black lace glove.

Steve immediately grabbed your wrists, pulling it away from him before walking with you to the door, not minding anyone, even the people that tried to wish you a nice evening. Not even your friends that he liked.

You knew he wanted to go home but you hadn’t expected him to be this eager to get home as quick as possible.

Thank god you had already texted Clint you’d only finish one drink and go home, so he drove up just in the right moment.

While driving home you tried to cuddle a bit up to Steve but he didn’t react much, only holding your hand lightly. “Is everything alright?” “Sure.”

So something was definitely wrong, but maybe he didn’t want to talk about it in front of Clint, who had become a close friend to Steve.

After entering your shared home Steve took of his jacket and shoes and walked straight to his old room, where he had stayed at the beginning of your relationship. “Steve, what-why are you here?”, you asked in confusion after following him into the room.

“I assumed you don’t want me to sleep with you in one bed tonight”

What?

“What?”, you said your thoughts out loud. “Carlos. You seemed to having found a replacement for me”, his words only made you laugh-and your laugh made him frown. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to laugh but it’s just ridiculous-nobody could replace you”, you walked up to him, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“I saw the way you laughed with him-and how he kissed your hand-“ “no, Steve, I laughed at him, not with him. He was saying some bullshit and the kiss…it happened so quickly I didn’t even notice when he pulled my hand-“

“Don’t bullshit me, I know he can treat you better. He could give a better life, a better future-“ “Steve, stop! I don’t need a rich guy-“ “I didn’t say anything about his money, this was your first thought-“ you scoffed at his words.

“Don’t try to make it look like it’s me who noticed his wealth-I saw how you looked at his watch-how you immediately got lost in thought. I knew what you were thinking about. I’m not stupid. But it’s still not what I’m interested in. I want you” “sure, you want a broke college student-or do you prefer the stripper? The broke stripper, that was in depth and needed money-“

You felt your eyes burn at Steve’s words. Did he really think so little of himself? A broke student or just a stripper? “Sweetheart, please let’s sit down and talk about it-“ “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’m not in depth anymore, I have a job, I don’t need all the money anymore, I don’t need your help anymore. I can get by on my own. You can now do with the contract whatever you want-rip it, burn it-I don’t care! Go and get yourself someone who’s your league”, all the accusations made your tears fall even though you tried to hold it back.

For a second you felt like Steve had really only used you for the money-which in the beginning was true, but he lived with you for a year now. And you had confessed your feelings months ago-you two loved each other. You knew. You could feel it.

“Steve I know you don’t mean it like that-“ “what if I do? Maybe it was all a lie? What if I just needed the money? Have you never thought about it? I’m just a poor kid that found a naive woman to get him on his fe-“ before he could finish his sentence you couldn’t stop yourself and slapped him across the face, even surprising yourself with it.

You knew you shouldn’t be overreacting, especially considering he had been drinking all evening, but his words hurt.

“You can either go to sleep or pack your things, it’s your decision”, you hissed, slamming the door behind you.

After taking a shower you walked to your bed, trying to ignore the need to check if steve left his things or had packed-but in the end you opened his night stand. Everything was where it was supposed to be.

You breathed out quietly before laying down and tried to fall asleep, which took you a very long time.

Your dreams were haunted by arguments, fights and tears, all resulting in Steve’s leaving. Would he really want to leave you? Or did he only use you for money? Was the love fake? Maybe he was actually-

“Good morning, Y/N, I made you breakfast”, Steve’s soft voice woke you up, the bed dipping where he sat down at the edge. His hand caressed your cheek, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday-“ while you tiredly opened your eyes, Steve immediately pulled you into a sitting position and his arms.

“I'm so incredibly sorry for all the things I’ve said-I…I don’t know what came over me or why I did it. I don’t think you’re naive or that you only wanted to have some fun with me-sure, maybe this was our deal at the beginning, but it’s not like this anymore. I love you. I love you so much and I hate myself for hurting you like this yesterday”, mumbled Steve, kissing your forehead.

“What happened Steve? Why were you so angry and upset?”, you asked while gently pushing him away by his shoulders, looking him up and down in concern.

He sighed, deeply.

“I’m…I think it’s because I’m scared. And jealous. Sometimes I just feel like it’s all not real. Like you might actually want to be with someone else, someone older, more experienced…more…wealthy..”, he whispered, lowering his head shamefully.

“If I could, I’d want you all to myself and seeing this douche kiss your hand…god, it killed me”, he shook his head, brushing his hand over his face.

You immediately grabbed his hand, pulling it to your lips and leaving a kiss behind. “Oh sweetheart…”

Slowly you sat onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing the top of his head. „Please, never doubt our love because of some douche…I love you with my whole being, I could never imagine being with someone else…“

You whispered, feeling him hiccup against your neck. “I love you to…mommy”, he whispered in return, making you smile against his hair. “I made you apology breakfast…-“ “I think I want to skip to the dessert”, you teased him, kissing his earlobe gently, before pulling up his shirt over his head.

You felt like you needed to take care of your babyboy today. “First…I think I have to remind you how much I love you baby…”, you whispered, brushing your finger down his stomach.

The way he looked up at you was reason enough why you could never imagine someone else in your life.

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CE taglist: @inlovewithchrisevans @rogersbarber

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[elmariachu]

How would each of The OBEY ME BROTHERS react to MC finding them the most attractive? (The brothers x Fem!MC)

<Summary> : OM Boys & Fem! MC Playing truth or dare, MC gets asked which brother she finds the most attractive as well as their collective responses/reactions based on the brother. [HC/dialogue..]

Part 2

___________________

MC : I'll go for Truth.

Asmo : So~ MC~ Who would you say is the most attractive one out of us???

MC : Oh.. Uhm... *Hesitates*

Asmo : It's me isn't it?~You can say it, don't be shy my dear *chirps merrily..*

Mammon : Pft, shut it, Asmo! Oi, Mc! yer obviously gonna pick me right? I was yer first ye know!

Levi : ..What kind of a question is that?.. *mumbles* I'm not even gonna be on that list..probably.

Satan : How is that related to the question at all, Mammon? If MC has even a bit of common sense, which she does, she would pick me. *Locks eyes* Right? MC.

Belphie : ..wakes up Huh..? What are you arguing about? mMmh..

Beel : Asmo asked MC who she thinks is the most attractive.

Belphie : Out of us? Huuh, I'm interested.

Beel : ...I am curious to know too.

MC : ...*avoids eye contact and tries to think*

Lucifer : What's wrong, MC? Cat bite your tongue? *chuckle* [Knows it's gonna be him and wants to hear her say it already]

Satan : MC, if you are worried about offending us, don't fret. You can be candid. [In his mind it's obviousy gonna be him, do you see the way she blushes at only the sight of his face at times?]

MC : Aaah. But.. it's... Erm. I have to pick only one? *nervous, feeling all eyes on her*

Asmo : Well, of course! My dear~ We all know who it's going to be so don't hold back.

Feeling their patience running thin

MC : But how would you even define ... attractiveness...? I uhm, I think you're all attractive. Objectively..

Mammon : Oi.. What are ye so nervous for? Just say my name MC!

Satan : You're overthinking it, MC. [Just say whatever name comes to your head. Which is gonna be him, of course.]

Levi : .. *mumbles* I want this to be over with, seriously! It's giving me so much anxiety...

Beel : *Stares at MC intently* Hmm..

Belphie : *Laying down on his pillow with one eye open, scanning MC's face* Say it already~

Lucifer : I agree with Satan, You're giving it too much thought MC. Base it on your preferences. Let's get this done with and move on.

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be...

Lucifer :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Lucifer!

*A few are not all that surprised, but most are pretty irritated*

*MC peeks at him with her head hanging, wanting to gauge his reaction despite her embarassment*

Lucifer :*eyes widen slightly, a pink tint forming on his cheeks, but he maintains his composure*

Lucifer : *chuckle* Well, naturally. [Smugness apparent in his expression, eyes closed, conceited smirk, crossed arms, the whole package]

Mammon : *stands up dramatically* WHAT? MC, are ya serious? Yer gonna pick *HIM*?

Lucifer : *shoots him a baleful glare which puts him back in his seat rather quickly*

Satan : MC, you must be blind. *Clearly annoyed*

MC: ...You said you wouldn't be upset. *apologetically looks at Satan*

Satan : You didn't have to go and choose the worst of us, though.

Lucifer : Satan.

Satan : Tch.

Asmo : I see how you can think that, but I'm really hurt you didn't pick me, MC!~ *fake cries*

Levi : *Wasn't even listening, already had his D.D.D. out and was gaming so as not to hear her answer*

Belphie : Ugh. How lame. *goes back to sleep*

Beel : Hm? *Looks down at him* Are you disappointed, Belphie?

Belphie : I'm annoyed she'd pick someone as narcissistic as Lucifer, that's just inflating his already gigantic ego.

Belphie : If anything she should've picked you, Beel.

Beel: ...Well. *poor boy thinks she should've picked belphie bc he's just so cute*

Mammon :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Mammon!

*Incredulous looks shooting from all around the room, their shock is almost palpable, especially Mammon's*

Mammon: *Was the first to snap out of his shock to speak* Wh-what?.. [she picked him? wow. I mean. He wanted her to, part of him believed she might, but she really did...?]

Mammon : W-well, of course! You would choose the *great* Mammon. That's a good human!

[he feigns confidence, is genuinely happy, still thinks she didn't totally mean it for some reason.]

Satan : I'm convinced that you have something wrong your eyesight, MC. *even more annoyed than the last scenario*

Asmo : PFFFT- This must be a joke, right? MC? Tell me you're joking dear. Picking Mammon when I'm here? [genuinely thinks she's pranking them]

Levi : *takes his earphones off in time to hear* Wait, did I hear that right? Did she say Mammon?

*receives glum nods from a couple brothers*

Levi : BAHAHAHA, GOOD ONE, MC! HAHAHA/

Mammon : H-hey! Stop laughing! You're all jealous aren't ya! Bet yer mad it ain't you!

Belphie : No, we're surprised more than anything.

Satan : MC, are you sure you weren't coerced into doing this?

Lucifer : *sigh* MC. I didn't realize you had such strange tastes. I'm disappointed.

Poor guy gets flamed.

Beel :*pretty surprised, expected her answer to be Asmo, Lucifer or Satan. Assumes she doesn't find him attractive and is kind of sad*

POOR BABY IDIDJDJ

Levi :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Levi!

*Once again, everyone finds it a bit hard to believe, though they're kind of happy for him.*

*They're not sure how to react, & no word is uttered for a while*

Levi : Uh.. Yes? Do you need something MC? [why is she shouting out his name right before a big revelation like that? Did she want his help in delivering the answer?] *Is genuinely confused*

Levi : *upon receiving no response, puts his earphones back in*

Asmo : Heeeh? It's Levi? Really??

Mammon : Levi? You're gonna pick that anti-social shut-in over ME, *THE* Mammon ? REALLY?

Satan : Huh. I didn't expect that. [What a peculiar taste this human has.]

Levi : *Takes off his earphones again, upon hearing his name being mentioned too much*

Levi : You're being distracting, what do you normies want? *is annoyed*

Mammon : Oi Levi, you absolute idiot. She picked you.

Levi : Picked me for what? Why are you involving me in your normie plans.

Asmo : Ugh, seriously? He doesn't even realize it.

Asmo : MC sweetie! You can always take it back, I'm the better choice anyway~

Lucifer : I doubt he will ever even begin to believe it, this is futile. Let's move on.

Belphie : "Pshh. MC is probably the first person to find him attractive. How funny."

Beel : ... [Not much to say, he's just like "oh? I see". They do spend a lot of time together after all. Finds it endearing, he has someone who's attracted to him now.] MY PRECIOUS BABY

Levi : *takes him a good minute to realize what's actually going on, only after seeing MC's flushed face, her growing frustration at his responses, the remarks of his brothers all jumbled together that he starts to understand*

Levi : *All comes down on him at once, blood rushes to his head and he shortcircuits as MC stares at him*

Mammon : O-oi! Levi! Are you okay?

Boy is not okay.

Satan :

MC : OKAY! Fine. I'll .. I'll say it, based on my "preferences".. I guess it would be... Satan!

*Again, Satan was an expected response, not much surprise there, he was arguably the most held-together one of the bunch*

Satan : [Oh? He knew she'd choose him. Her prior reactions proved that much. But was still a bit taken aback, she singled him out, it pleased him.]

Satan : Is that so? I'm honored, MC. *shoots MC playful smirk, feigning surprise*

Mammon : Seriously? Satan? Booo! [thinks he's one of the lame options, he's so uptight, he reminds him of lucifer, then again thinks the only non-lame choice is himself.]

Lucifer : Hm. Satan? He's a reasonable enough choice. If I hadn't picked myself, I would have done the same.

Satan : [the hell did he just say?] *mumbles* ..Disgusting.

Satan : No one asked for your input, Lucifer.

Levi : That's a TMI bro. *isn't surprised by the answer either, typical basic normie answer, is secretly salty*

Lucifer : What does that mean? Leviathan? And Satan, care to repeat what you said? *cue sadistic smile*

Satan : TCH.

MC : ...

Belphie : Hm, Satan's not too bad of a choice. at least she didn't pick Lucifer. [as close to a compliment as you'll get from belphie, just take it]

Beel : ...I suppose. [Again, expected Satan to be the answer, is used to seeing people swoon for him effortlessly..]

Satan is the pretty boy apparently

Will drop Asmo, Beel, & Belphie next!

Part 2 !

[workofheart]

eren jaeger relationship hcs

eren’s turn! modern relationship hcs. nsfw under the cut as per usual <3 levi ver.

really clingy. when ur away on a trip or something, he definitely cuddles your pillow and buries his head in it. might also spray your perfume on his hoodie so he can be reminded of you throughout the day (as if you aren’t already on his mind 24/7)

on that note, LOVES seeing you in his clothing. i feel like for most guys this is true and people mention it all the time, but eren especially. it makes him feel mushy and horny at the same time (more on that later) bc it just drapes over your shoulders perfectly. like he sees you and has to suck in a breath and look away to collect himself or else he’ll just become a puddle on the floor

likes hearing verbal affirmations. when you compliment him, tell him you’re proud of him, he gets all warm and fuzzy inside. it means so much coming from you and he knows you're genuine

really goofy, this is to be expected - tries to get you to laugh bc it raises his self esteem and confidence. he just likes looking at you being happy and smiling, it makes him feel so warm inside

definitely hides behind corners when he hears you walking or coming down the stairs so he can jump out and scare you. don’t worry though, because he always proceeds to hug you and kiss your forehead or temple to say he’s sorry but only kind of bc ur reaction was priceless. the little whack u give his arm in annoyance? he lovessss it bc it’s like he knows u still love him even when he is a little obnoxious

eren is definitely one of those enemies to lovers kind of guy bc he desperately wants someone to love him not necessarily in spite of his flaws, but with his flaws. he needs u to acknowledge that he’s far from a perfect person but still love him regardless

his favorite kind of dates are park dates. he likes going on warm & sunny days to throw a frisbee around with you in the open fields. i feel like he’s a basketball guy so he’ll bring you onto the court and play knockout... when he loses, will tell you he let you win on purpose for the sake of his ego 

lolll imagine him critiquing your free throw form or something and coming up behind you to fix it (it wasn’t actually that bad, he just wanted an excuse to be near you)

really needs physical touch. he’s the kind of guy who will always be in contact w you in some way or another. when driving, his hand will be on your thigh or holding yours on top of the center console, same for if you’re out at restaurants but under the table. he’d definitely try and play footsies with you if you’re sitting across from him rather than beside him. when sleeping, he holds you really tight and won’t let you roll over so you better just get comfortable. 

doesn’t mind being ur photographer and taking pics for you. he takes some time to learn the methods for the best pics but he eventually gets it

this is kind of random but when playing minecraft, he always blows up creepers and never fills in the creeper holes :| sorry. to make up for it he’ll get you music discs. also likes just going on little adventures to find a sand biome two thousand blocks away and just walking with you in game

on this topic actually i LOVE the idea of gamer bf eren. like not the league-and-monster-drinking kind but sumn about him in a headset and sitting at the edge of his bed... but he’ll definitely teach you how to play shooter games and will be so nice about it, won’t get mad at you, will give you little kisses when you’re not doing well and getting frustrated, and if you’re playing in online lobbies together he’ll stick by you the whole time and carry you

always sending you tiktoks & tries to get you to do all the trends with him. they never go viral but he goes back and watches them when he misses you

i peg him as a cat guy! really good with animals in general. i think most people would expect him to be a dog person since he can be loud and rowdy and excited, but on an emotional level i think he also just likes to be calm and relaxed and would get along with cats well. also teases you when animals reject you for him.

definitely writes about you in his journal. he jots down funny things you say or do or moments you shared so he never forgets any of them, and when he misses you he’ll read through them :( imagine when you’re so much older and he has documented proof of his love for you back when he was young please it makes me cry

also writes down little poetic words or things that remind him of you. he’ll hear a quote in a movie or a book or a song that instantly makes you pop into his head and he just has to write it down. he’s probably tried writing poems or songs about you, but he keeps those really secret because he’s embarrassed

this is kind of random but i think he’s a total beach person! likes going to spend days in the sun, builds sand castles and asks for your rating, drags you into the water to swim with him, will dive under and grab your ankles to freak you out, also looks really good in swim trunks but that's besides the point

he hates to see you upset and tries to cuddle the sadness out of you. when needs be, he’s a really good listener and doesn’t mind letting you just vent. when you cry, he pulls you in for a really tight hug and cradles your head - also because if he sees you crying, he’ll start to cry too because he genuinely feels for you 

tries his best to take care of you when you’re sick. not really a good cook or anything, but he’ll make you a grilled cheese or a pop tart, albeit a little crispy even though it’s his third attempt. doesn’t mind being near you and isn’t afraid of getting sick so he’ll cuddle you anyway

loses focus when you’re talking to him sometimes but it’s not because he’s not listening, it’s because he just gets caught up in staring at you and how you look when you talk bc he just adores you. when you snap him out of his, he always gets all red and blushy :(

nsfw under the cut (18+)

really likes sending & receiving nudes/lewds. he always goes for the torso selfie to show off his chest/abs when sending, and it doesn’t matter to him what you send back because he’ll like anything you have to offer

and his responses aren’t lame either. NOT the type to send you a thumbs up or a “ayo you sexy as hell fr doe” - he will hype you up with dirty talk because he seriously means it. honestly might just send you a voice message, or call you if you’re alone and available bc while he might look at pics of you from time to time for aesthetics, the majority of the time he’s jacking off

so you know how i said he likes seeing you in his clothing? he especially likes nudes of you in his clothes. send him a pic wearing his zip up hoodie & nothing else and he’s yours 

he prefers being in control/being on top but doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns every once in a while

throws his head back and groans when u give him head. that's the image.

one of his favorite positions is when you’re in doggy but he pulls you up by the arms so your back is against his chest. he’ll snake a hand around to rub tight little circles on your clit, might put his hand around your throat if you like it. heavenly.

reallyyyy dirty mouth omg. asks sooo many teasing questions, likes hearing you say his name. “you like that, princess?” “louder for me” “who’s making you feel this good?” ugh and it’s not awkward either he makes it sound so good

has a lot of energy and a lot of stamina. stroke game will make you pass out, he’s so smooth and sets such a rhythm with his hips

things that get him going: kissing under his jaw, especially up by his ear. sucking his fingers. tugging on his hair. running your nails down his back.

pins your thighs to the bed when he eats you out. likes to make you squirm and loooves to edge you. super teasing in every way

can we just talk about his voice for a sec... he has the prettiest moans and isn’t afraid to let you know how he’s feeling. when you’re in missionary, he’ll hold himself up with one elbow, hold your hand with the other, and will lean down to moan right in your ear. sometimes does it on purpose bc he knows it turns you on from how you clench around him

usually has a death grip on that sensitive spot between your hips and your waist so he has something to hold on to while he pounds you

when he cums, he 100% buries his face in the crook of your neck, might even bite down from time to time 

can totally see him going harder if he knows there’s people around, he doesn’t care who it is that’s outside the door but they’re gonna hear how good he’s making you feel whether you like it or not

wants to see your face when you cum. will definitely tell you to cum for him and keep your eyes open when he’s really feeling it - your expression makes him nut so fucking hard lawwddd

daps u up after sex just cause he’s weird like that lol

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xvi.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: jk and oc :(

words: 5, 820

summary: a series of drabbles where you’re confused and jungkook’s confusing

a/n:

at the end of the chap!!!

“Babe, you better close your lips,” Yena nudges your shoulders when the two of you approach the football field with treats of your own.

“I’m not … drooling,” you reply lamely, fingers clutching the bag of food and refreshments tightly in your grasp as if it would run away.

“I wasn’t talking about your mouth,” she smirks.

Your head snaps towards her in a flush, ears immediately turning red when she resorts to snickering at your scandalised expression. You thwack her on her shoulder, flustered at the cackles she’s releasing. The food in your hands remains unscathed, purely because you spent a good amount of time preparing it for the boys—knowing that they were entering an important season for their football games.

From where the two of you were walking from, you had a decent view of the football team sprawled across the field, likely resting from one of their many intensive practices. You weren’t concerned with anyone else, and given Jungkook’s flashy hair colour—it was only natural that your eyes immediately fell onto his figure. It also just so happened that Jungkook decided to take his break—shirtless.

You shake your head to snap out of your daydream, fully aware of the way that Yena shoots you a knowing smirk.

“Okay, shut up before you blow my cover,” you hiss.

“You’re telling me that when your face screams I want to lick the sweat of Jungkook’s pectorals—!”

You’re about to drop the food aside, fully ready to attack Yena who looks all too pleased with her teasing, but another voice interjects before you can do any real harm to your friend.

“Is Yena harassing you?”

Yena snaps her head to the source of the voice and immediately narrows her eyes at the smirking figure.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Min,” she snaps.

“Was I talking to you?” He rolls his eyes before turning over to give you a smile, “Hey, ____. Here to feed the dogs?”

You snort, casting a sideways glance to Yena who’s equal parts fuming and red—and you’re definitely sure that it wasn’t because of her apparent anger. The lingering glance that Yoongi rests on her figure with a fond smile tells you enough, and you hide the grin that threatens to appear on your face as you return a kind one to Yoongi.

“Spot on. You’re here to cover their practices?” You make small talk as the three of you make your way towards the football team, most of them too immersed in whatever Namjoon was saying to take note of your approaching figures.

He lets out a deep sigh before nodding, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“You wanted coverage for next months paper, didn’t you?” He teasingly accuses.

You duck your head in embarrassment, remembering the meeting you had with the student reporter union and your exact words. You did need an article written on the football team’s practices for publicity purposes, and you briefly remembered Yoongi and Yena bumping heads on multiple occasions on who was to cover it. Clearly, Yoongi won—or more appropriately, Yena surrendered due to his ‘irritating’ personality.

“I did,” you smile apologetically, “Hopefully it isn’t that bad.”

“All he does is complain,” Yena mutters under her breath.

Yoongi raises a brow with an amused smirk on his face.

“I would’ve been complaining less if I had someone accompanying me,” he says pointedly.

You briefly note the flush on Yena’s cheeks before she grumbles something incoherent under her breath, shoving a fist into Yoongi’s arm in retaliation as he snickers at her reaction. You smile to yourself, eyes turning fond when you realise that Yoongi doesn’t back away even as she bites. All he does is let her have her way, patiently sticking by her side while he placates her growls.

You reach the circle where the footballers were gathered as you quietly tiptoed your way towards the bleachers, setting the food down and taking them out so they could dig in right after they were done. You brought enough for the entire team—but you were still worried since they were male athletes who definitely had an appetite for victory and your sandwiches. You hoped it’d suffice.

Just as you’ve settled down, Jimin spots you when his head snaps up, offering you a wide grin along with nudges to Namjoon and Taehyung’s shoulder. The rest of the team follow the direction of his eyes, and you turn red at the sudden attention of all the men on you as you offer a meek wave, avoiding any real eye contact.

“You came!” Jimin hops towards you, immediately dragging you into a hug as he nuzzles his sweaty forehead into your neck.

You grimace and push him away, scrunching your face at the wetness that sticks to your skin at his contact.

“Ew, you stink,” you whine.

He rolls his eyes before he digs through the food, showing his true intentions on why he came over in the first place.

“And you are an angel,” he coos, pinching your cheeks while you smacked his hand away.

“How was practice?” You hum for the sake of conversation while you watch the boy scarf down your sandwiches like a starved man.

He looks up with stuffed cheeks, pausing in his chomps, “Brufal.”

You offer him a sympathetic smile before squeezing his shoulder.

“All in good time, right?”

He swallows, rolling his eyes in response.

“Said every optimist ever. I just want this season to be over so I can go back to pigging out.”

You snort but you don’t deny his statement. You watch him while he continues to munch on his meal. Something was fulfilling about watching him enjoy your preparations, and you were definitely the type to enjoy taking care of your friends. You were usually the friend that provided advice and comforted people whenever they were faced with a particularly difficult time, and you’ve heard on several occasions from both Jimin, Taehyung—and even Jungkook; that you somehow knew what to do, and say, whenever they were faced with a problem.

It’s nice, to see Jimin happy, and you note to visit more during their practices with food.

“You’re too nice, do you know?” A voice interjects.

You look up from Jimin to see Namjoon walking towards you, with Jungkook and Taehyung trailing behind him. You flush ever so slightly because you briefly remember the last time you saw Jungkook and what happened. It’s been busy for the both of you so you weren’t able to see him much on campus either.

“Stop saying that,” you scowl, “And eat up before Jimin shovels everything down this throat.”

You thrust a wrapped sandwich into his chest that he receives with a dimpled grin. Namjoon wraps a loose arm around your shoulder as thanks and you still grimace at the sweat that lingers on your skin—but you realise that it’s an inevitable part of the role you took, so you sigh and accept it.

“Let’s get married if we both don’t by 35,” Taehyung suggests the moment he’s handed a sandwich of his own as you raise a brow at his proposition.

“So I can make you sandwiches?”

“Yeah,” he nods.

“Sounds pretty misogynistic to me,” you snort, “Make your own damn sandwiches.”

“But they’re not the same,” he whines, “It’s your essence that makes it taste so much better!”

You laugh at his desperate explanation and the wiggle of his eyebrows at his insinuation. You’re thankful he doesn’t smother you with his sweat and only grants you a grateful mumble of appreciation before he’s joining his other brain cell on the bleachers, immediately bickering away about whatever topic they decided on for the day.

When Jungkook comes up for his turn, you can’t keep eye contact. Especially when he’s still in his shirtless glory while he looks at you with those eyes of his, paired with his cheeky grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“Where’s my sandwich?” He asks, propping himself right in front of you, leaving you no space to breathe or to move away from him.

“There,” you point to the bag rather than handing him one like you did with the rest, “Help yourself.”

Jungkook pouts, tilting his head to the side as he chases your expression to search for your eyes. You’re still avoiding his gaze, and you feel like you’re beginning to perspire at the way he’s blatant with his ogling. The two of you were in public, and your friends have sat a few metres away from you with the rest of his football team lingering nearby and somehow the idea of people seeing the two of you so close gives you anxiety.

“You’re not going to give me one?” He asks.

“You have perfectly usable hands,” you gesture, and you immediately regret it because when you turn to look at him—his arms flex under the ministration when he cages you in with his body.

You let out a yelp, head immediately darting to the side to see whether or not anyone else was paying attention. But your friends are still caught in their own conversation, except Yena who somehow has a sixth sense for your embarrassment—and shoots the two of you a sleazy wink before tonguing the inside of her cheek.

Jungkook catches this, and you’re mortified to see the way his eyebrow raises at Yena’s gesture.

“You gossiping about me to your friend?” He teases.

You know exactly what he’s referring to. You scowl in response, sticking your nose up while you glance in the other direction; away from his smirk.

“Gossiping entails that whatever I said was negative. So, do what you want with that information,” you shrug.

Jungkook tuts, shaking his head before he lets out an amused chuckle.

“Always so bratty,” he sighs, “That smart mouth of yours loves to run itself, hm?” The shift to a much huskier tone stuns you into silence because he’s suddenly much closer, more insinuative and daring with the way he leans his face closer to yours until you’re finding it hard to breathe.

“We’re in public, Jeon,” you hiss.

He snickers, “No one cares except for you.”

“I’m not about to give everyone a free show,” you saw pointedly.

Jungkook smirks, “Who said anything about a show? Can’t I just have you close to me without it meaning anything else?”

You freeze. You know Jungkook doesn’t mean it that way, but you suppose it’s the remnants of insecurity that lingers deep in the back of your mind that makes your heart drop ever so slightly. You know how he feels; how his words are meant to be a light jibe towards you. But your collateral mind can only ask, what if?

As if Jungkook’s picked up on the reason for your silence, or perhaps he was just that good at reading you and your body language, he frowns—immediately reaching a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it to get your attention.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You feel bad that he has to clarify himself when you yourself wanted to have faith in him—you did. It was more so that you lacked that same faith in yourself. To be that someone to Jungkook even when he’s made it clear to you about he felt. But you knew Jungkook to be the type that jumped from one interest to another like he was flipping through a brochure, and you didn’t mean it maliciously either.

Jungkook just liked a lot of things and could do well in a lot of things too once his mind is set. You were just terrified if that’s all you were to him. A phase that he’s got to experience in his life because it was interesting to him now.

“Sorry,” you whisper, eyes darting to your feet, “I … I know. It’s just—I’m just overthinking. It’s dumb.”

He frowns, “If it’s bothering you it’s not dumb.”

You sigh.

“No, it is,” you emphasise, balling your fist by your side as he looks at you attentively. You hate yourself a little more for being so unsure. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind just—it just thinks the worst of every situation. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to appreciate the way you’re continuously apologising or avoiding his gaze, so he takes it up himself to reach out his hands to tilt your chin upwards so that you’re looking at him. He’s always loved looking at you, whether you were studying, driving, or even just daydreaming—he loved your eyes and he’d spend most of his days just staring at you.

“I want you. I always want you,” he says and it both takes your breath away and makes your heart pound rapidly against your ribcage, “Everything that I do with you means the world to me. You mean the world to me and I don’t want to fuck this up. I fucked up once and I—I don’t want to mess this up either. So please, if you’re bothered—tell me. I want to know. I want to ease any of your worries now because I wasn’t able to do that before.”

Jungkook speaks so softly that you may have missed the sincerity and desperation laced in his tone, the hushed utterance of his truth that only you were meant to hear. He looks at you so tenderly, so authentically that you feel your heart constrict both in want and guilt. The reassuring grasp of one hand on your hip while the other rests under your chin forces you to acknowledge his sincerity—his want, and most importantly; him.

He notices it before you do, and his thumb wipes under your eyes when you feel the first teardrop. Your face morphs into a wide-eyed expression when you quickly swipe under your eyes to erase the evidence of your heart worn on your face. But Jungkook doesn’t allow you to get far, and he uses his strength to stop your wrists—forcing you to peer up at him with red-rimmed and freshly-swollen eyes.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs.

“Jungkook—” you protest, pushing his hands away but it only makes him clutch you tighter.

“Don’t,” he says firmly, “It’s okay. Just cry if you have to.”

Your face crumbles because Jungkook can be both strict but earnest at the same time. It was conflicting for you not because you didn’t know how you felt but because you cared too much about the prying eyes of others. Even now, when Jungkook only looks at you—your mind strays to the people that talk, to the people that stare and wonder. And you hate it.

“We’re in public, Jungkook,” you say softly through a shaky breath.

You put some distance between the two of you by taking a step back, and Jungkook notices. Of course, he does, especially when space he once felt warmth turns cold. He frowns because he would rather hold you close—show the world and everyone that he loved you. But your eyes stray away, darting everywhere but his face.

“I don’t care,” he huffs, “I want you.”

And no matter how many times he says it, the pessimistic side of you nags at your heart to keep it safe. To keep things under wraps so that you could avoid wandering or curious gaze; especially when anyone could see or say anything.

“I know,” you tell him.

Jungkook scoffs and your eyes shoot up when you realise that Jungkook’s annoyed. The tick in his jaw tells you enough, especially when he takes a step back—placing that distance between the two of you. It sucks when you’re on the receiving end of such coldness and you can’t imagine how Jungkook felt when you pushed him away.

“Do you?” He exasperates, “I’m patient. I am. I’ll wait for you; I told you that and I meant it,” he frowns, “But I just want to hold you. I wanted this for the longest of times and I don’t care where we are in this world because that’ll never make me stop wanting you. I want you when we’re apart, I want you when we’re together and I want you now. When will that be enough?”

Jungkook takes your breath away again, but for different reasons. This time, he sounds tired—desperate, almost. He rubs his hands across his face in frustration and you can tell he’s trying his best to level his breathing. You stand there silent, lips pursed as you mull over his words.

“It is enough,” you tell him, eyes peering up on your own; but this time Jungkook isn’t looking at you and it makes your heart clench. His eyebrows are furrowed and the only thing you can catch a glimpse of is the side of his face. “I just … people talk, Jungkook. I know you’re used to that but I’m not. I don’t like it when people are in my business.”

He scoffs, “And now it’s other people that are standing in between us?” Your eyes narrow at him but the clench of his jaw tells you that he’s not stepping down either, “I am, I’m used to people talking about me whether it be good or bad. And I know you don’t like it—I know,” he exasperates, “But when will we just be enough of a reason for you to take that leap of faith?”

“It’s not that easy—”

“Of course it isn’t!” He exclaims, “I’m not saying it is. I know I fucked up and it made things more complicated than they should be but I’m here now and I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to wait for you because I want to prove myself to you. But if all it takes is just people’s words to get in between us then I don’t know if it even matters anymore.”

You recoil at his words, eyes widening when he finally looks down at you. Jungkook doesn’t look angry. He looks tired, and he sounds tired. Your heart hurts because you don’t know how he feels when all this while you were within arms reaches but not quite. You had the reassurance from Jungkook and your friends that he wanted you—but somehow you couldn’t quite believe it. Was it your fault that you felt this way? Why did you feel this way?

“Jungkook …” you reach out to grab his arm, and he doesn’t push you away. But he doesn’t make an effort to hold your hand like he usually would and it made your stomach drop.

“I love you,” he whispers, “I can shout it on rooftops and announce it to the world if that’ll make you believe me. But when will my love be enough?”

“I want you too, Jungkook,” you reply, squeezing his arm tighter.

“Do you?” He sighs, “It’s hard for me too,” he says as his eyes flutter shut, “I can wait. But it hurts. It hurts because if you really wanted me then that’s all that should matter.”

“Wait, Jungkook—” you reach out to him when he pulls away from you and you feel your heart drop when he doesn’t look at you.

Maybe it was an act of desperation, or your mind telling you to not lose a good thing due to your rumination—but you use all the strength you have to tug him back to you because you couldn’t have Jungkook walk away from you. Not now, when your heart tells you to stop being afraid, to stop being stubborn.

“I need—” he begins with a sigh, but your eyebrows are furrowed in determination when you loop your arms around his neck to tug him down to your level.

And you kiss him.

You think it’s the first time that you’ve initiated a kiss, even when the two of you were messing around. It’d always been Jungkook who took the first step, an exception was your last interaction at your apartment. But if you looked harder, even through the hurt, Jungkook reached out first. Granted, it was never in the way that you wanted—but he always took the first leap, for you and the both of you.

When you kiss him, you feel him freeze under your hold, even when you press your lips harder against his. You don’t think about the consequences, you don’t think about your friends who are likely witnessing your first public display of affection with Jungkook, and you definitely don’t think about the way that the rest of his football teammates gawk at the two of you.

It feels scary—but right. And that’s all that should’ve mattered.

When you pull away, you’re breathing heavy, peering your eyes up to Jungkook who’s stunned to silence with a gape in his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

You briefly see from the corner of your eye the way that Yena is squeezing Yoongi’s arm who looks as surprised as the boy in front of you. You even see Namjoon, with a hint of a smile on his face even as he looks away. Your heart clenches in guilt, but you’ve spent far too long hurting yourself and Jungkook.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you into this,” Jungkook whispers, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

“You … you didn’t,” you assure him with a small smile before you nibble on your lips. “You’re right. This—us—it should’ve been enough for me.” You tell him as he observes you with gentle eyes, “And it is. It’s always been but I’ve always been afraid and honestly? I still am. I’m terrified because this is new for me and I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“I know,” he murmurs, pulling you closer as your arms still rest loosely around his neck, “I’m scared too. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

You turn a pretty shade of red when you duck your head to avoid his fond gaze. He chuckles when you do so, endeared by your embarrassment even if you were the one that reached out first—to proclaim your affection with your kiss.

But some moments don’t last forever, and they’re not meant to. So when a third party interjects and snaps you out of your little bubble with Jungkook, you freeze.

“You sure she isn’t a two-timer, Jeon?” Jeonghan, who you briefly remember seeing at some of the football games, interjects with a raised brow as he leans on the railings of the bleachers.

You still, immediately loosening your grip around Jungkook’s neck and he realises your hesitancy—sees the fear that erupts just when you found the courage to take that first step.

“What?” You whisper.

Jungkook shoots his teammate a blazing glare that you don’t catch because you’re too busy avoiding his gaze, the attention causing the heat to rise on your cheeks and the sweat to accumulate by your hairline and on your body.

“Dude—it’s not worth it,” he snorts, “What next? She sleeps her way through the entire team?”

Your face drops, and Jungkook finally lets go of you. Your eyes widen because you think for a second that he believes his teammate, that Jeonghan has managed to somehow lure his way into the depths of Jungkook’s mind to plant that seed of doubt within his already muddled mind.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jungkook asks with a menacing glare.

You’re frozen, but Namjoon is quickly at your side—concern etched on his face after Yena noticed the tension arising from your corner. Jimin and Taehyung are right behind him, observing the situation as they see Jungkook’s chest heaving when he stares his teammate down.

“I’m just saying,” Jeonghan shrugs, shooting you a knowing glance, “Wasn’t she fucking captain?”

“Jeonghan,” Namjoon intervenes, voice stern.

“What?” He raises his hand in defence, “Weren’t you about to ask her out?”

You hate this. You hate the attention and hate how he speaks about you as if you weren’t standing there—mortified. You especially hate the way that the rest of the team filters where the tension begins to escalate. They’re curious, for sure—at how their captain and their best player is suddenly caught in this dilemma with Jeonghan as the instigator.

“That has nothing to do with you,” Namjoon narrows his eyes at him in response.

Jeonghan snorts, “Um. It kind of does. You bailed on us for her,” Jeonghan states pointedly, “And now she’s locking lips with the golden boy here. She played you, man.”

Before Namjoon can respond, Jungkook takes a threatening step towards Jeonghan as he basically towers over him. Your hair stands on your arms as you can more or less tell where this is going, especially with the way that Jungkook’s fists clench by his sides.

“Jungkook—” you squeak, hands reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

You snap out of it, purely because you know that Jungkook’s pissed. His ears are red and his jaw is clenched, and you don’t want to know what’ll happen if you remained stagnant any longer.

“Stay out of this,” he snaps.

You blink, and even Namjoon looks taken aback. Jimin has concern written all over his features as he steps forward, likely attempting to mitigate the situation.

“Jungkook, don’t be stupid,” Jimin berates.

Jungkook turns around and all you see behind his usual doe-eyed gaze is now a fire that burns and is threatening to blaze anything in its way. And right now, Jungkook’s glaring at Jimin like he’s a rock in his journey.

“You’re going to let him say that shit about her?” Jungkook snaps.

“What’s fighting him going to do?” Jimin exasperates, eyebrows furrowed, “Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole and calm the fuck down. We have a game in two weeks and starting something now won’t do any of us good.” He raises his voice towards the end as he glares at every single person who has so happened to crowd around the lot of you to see what was happening, “Did you not hear what I said? Mind your own fucking business!”

The rest of the team murmurs amongst themselves, not before shooting you a disparaging glance that makes you feel uneasy. You look away because that’s the best you could do, fingers resting limply by your sides while you shift behind Jimin as if he was able to protect you from the wandering stares.

It was your exact fear, and somehow fate seems to hate you with the way your dream-like state with Jungkook is immediately ruined with your fears being proven.

Taehyung and Yena are by your side, looking at you with worry as you avoid their gaze. Your mind is louder, though you catch the lecture that Jungkook’s getting from Jimin for almost fighting Jeonghan. Even if nothing happened—the indents of Jungkook’s fingernails on his palm proves enough of what could happen if it weren’t for Jimin, or Namjoon, intervening.

“God, he’s such a fucking asshole,” Yena grumbles, pulling you to her side as she rubs your shoulder soothingly.

You say nothing, and you briefly see Yoongi walking over; offering you an apologetic glance that you mildly acknowledge.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks softly.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you look over your shoulders to see Jungkook already staring at you.

“I want to be,” you reply, “But I fucked things up.”

Yena frowns, “Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true,” you exasperate, “If I hadn’t led Namjoon on or—if I just didn’t … if I just didn’t feel the way I did for Jungkook then—”

“And then what?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your rambling as you turn around to see him furrowing his brows at you.

“Jungkook—” you reach out to him, again. He only flinches in response.

“If you didn’t feel the way you did for me and then what?” He whispers voice frustrated, “Then you’d get to protect yourself?”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung says sternly, eyes warning.

He pays him no mind, however, as you continue to blink up at him.

“That’s not what I meant,” you defend.

“What do you mean, then?” Jungkook snaps, “Because five minutes ago we had this exact same conversation—and then you kissed me—and now it’s like we’re back to square one. So what do you actually mean because I can’t keep trying to come up with my own answers!”

“That’s what I mean, Jungkook!” you frown, gesturing your arms wildly towards the team who’s all grouped together a good distance from where you were, “That. People talking. God, I want you too but I can’t live with the constant hypotheticals of people wondering how the fuck you could ever be with someone that apparently slept with your captain.”

“I don’t care about what people say!” He says vehemently, stepping closer to you.

The rest of your friends observe silently as they all exchange looks, shifting away to give you some privacy. You were so confused, and tired—and you didn’t even care if you were in public anymore and that people could see the argument brewing between you and Jungkook.

“I know you don’t,” you snap, “But not everything is about how you feel, Jungkook. You can live your life because everyone’s going to be pointing figures at me. Not you. It’s because it’s my name that’s being thrown around like I’m some—like I’m some whore who can’t keep her legs closed and—”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Jungkook snarls.

“—it’s what people are saying!” You cry, “Jungkook. Just a month ago you were with Jennie and I was somehow with Namjoon. What … what will people think?”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of?” He laughs dryly.

“What—?”

“You’re afraid because of what other people may think?” He repeats your words back to you, standing closer as you shift back, eyes avoiding his heavy gaze.

“I’m scared of a lot of things, Jungkook,” you say softly.

“I want to be there for you,” he tells you, voice softer than the previous harsh tone he took, “Me risking my position on this team just now? Yeah, that’s what I would do to protect you. I know people will talk and I know it sucks because your name is thrown in the loop—but you have me. You have Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung and Yena. We all would do anything to protect you so why are you still so afraid?”

Jungkook’s beginning to sound more desperate, especially with the way he’s somehow clutching on your elbows as if you’d slip away.

“I”—what were you afraid of? You seemed to have all the answers earlier, and even after Jungkook’s pleas, you find yourself hesitating. The anxiety of people looking at the two of you and wondering how the hell could it work—or whether or not you were set on breaking Jungkook’s heart; and vice versa. You remember the names of people who’s ever questioned your friendship and if there was something more. You remember Sana, harmlessly saying that it seemed impossible for the two of you to be together.

The entire time, fear plagues your mind, and you can’t give Jungkook an answer because it’s more than just people. It was you. It was you being terrified that you weren’t enough and that he’d see how imperfect you were compared to the girl he thinks he loves. You weren’t the smart, independent girl that participated in every club on campus. You were … small. You were fragile and weak, and insecure.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he says defeatedly, resting his forehead on the crown of your head.

Your heart drops.

“Please don’t say that,” you croak.

You feel the lump in your throat grow, and when you look up—you see a pained expression painting Jungkook’s face.

“I don’t want to say that,” he whispers right before he reaches up to clutch your face in his hands, “But I think I need to.”

“You don’t!” You cry, your own arms reaching out to clutch at the collar of the fresh shirt he’s managed to throw on.

“This doesn’t change the fact that I love you,” he reminds you gently.

You hate that you’re crying. The hot, wet tears that flow down your cheeks is a reminder of your vulnerability. Of how much control Jungkook has over your feelings.

“Why does it sound like you’re breaking up with me,” you cry.

He smiles, soft and half-hearted as he pulls you into a hug.

“We aren’t together,” he reminds you. Your heart clenches because you could’ve been.

“I …” you want to say that you could be. You want to tell him that you want him. And you do. But your mouth doesn’t move when all you can hear is sobs escaping you.

“Think about it, okay?” He murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face so that you wouldn’t end up crying all over the strands of hair uncomfortably, “If you … if you’re still afraid. That’s okay. We can be friends, and I can pretend like this never happened. I’ll always respect your decision.”

“But …”

He shushes you gently, wiping at your tears.

“I told you. I’ll wait for you—but I can only do that if you want me to,” he says sadly, “I love you. I do. I spent the past seven years of my life loving you, but I need to know if you feel the same.”

“I do!” You immediately respond, eyes wide.

He shakes his head with a small laugh, “You may love me. But love isn’t always enough.”

His words are heartbreaking, and you feel yourself crumble all over again. But your mind isn’t clear and you’re overwhelmed with emotion. Jungkook’s still looking at you gently like he always had. But it seems different.

“Let me take you home first, yeah?” He whispers.

You stop his movements when he reaches out to pick at your belongings as you grab a hold of his hand.

He turns to look at you with a raised brow and you notice how tired and sunken his eyes look. Your heart clenches for the millionth time and you just want to—

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s funny that you’re the one asking that question. When weeks ago it was him in that same position. You realise how vulnerable Jungkook must’ve felt when he posed you with the same question because you feel the exact same. You feel like your heart is on the floor, exposed to everyone as they examine the ins and outs of your feelings.

Jungkook looks at you softly, before pulling you to his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

And like always, Jungkook can’t say no to you.

a/n:

hi babes!!!! new chapter is up and oc and jk are :-(

im sorry for the angst!!!!! but things aren't always great between the two 🥺

i hope you enjoyed this chapter even tho yall may be cursing at me rn 🤣 but i do hope that you see oc's internal struggles with accepting everything and pursuing a potential relationship w jk despite her 'obvious' feelings towards him

as always, let me know what you think in my asks!!! love you all - and have a lovely day ahead of you ❤️

[taechaos]

Your Boy, No?

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: You can't stand seeing Jungkook with another girl, so you give him a piece of your mind in a stranger's bedroom by becoming his outlet of sexual frustration.

warnings: losing virginity, riding, degradation

a/n: jungkook's character is not exactly submissive, so i added my own twists to this request. i hope you don't mind @madygswich c:

word count: 2.5k

You can't stop pouting. Holding back tears when seeing a woman perched up on Jungkook's lap while they make out has proven to be difficult, but you're trying. It hurts your heart; hell, you're aching everywhere. It doesn't take a genius to know he's doing it to get a reaction out of you when his eyes are throwing daggers at you with his tongue down another girl's throat.

Following Jungkook around like a lost puppy isn't ideal, especially at a frat party. He never gives you the time of the day if it's not out of menace, but you aren't willing to give up on him. It's just not possible when you are so in love with him, and so fucking jealous.

More than Jungkook, you're mad at the girl. You want to rip her heart out, make her suffer for ever touching the love of your life. You're becoming irrational, mentally cussing her out for being a whore while you stop yourself from breaking down in a house filled with horny young adults. You don't know a single person here, and you have to deal with your pent up emotions all by yourself.

You choke out a sob when Jungkook starts kneading the girl's ass shamelessly with her skirt hiked up to her back. They're being so inappropriate in the kitchen of a stranger's house, while you can't even take a sip from your spiked drink in the bustling living room. You abruptly stand up and throw away your plastic cup when Jungkook's hand disappears elsewhere, and you have an idea of what he's about to do. You march over to him, looking absolutely tiny next to the overbearing college students and you don't notice Jungkook's sinister smile as he watches you fume.

"Let go," you sound hoarse, and not at all intimidating when you push the girl off of his lap. She stumbles at the force, but you pay no mind to her confusion as you pull Jungkook up by his arm to drag him away. You think it's the anger and adrenaline giving you so much strength, but it's Jungkook amusing himself by allowing you to take him upstairs.

"This isn't a therapy session, little girl," he yells over the music, "I didn't come here to listen to you cry."

You huff and let a single tear slip before harshly wiping it away. When you reach the hallway, you enter the first bedroom you find. It's occupied by a foreplaying couple, but you're driven as you hiss, "Out!"

They leave at your demand, and you're confusing a lot of people tonight. Jungkook is surprised by your sudden aggression, but he doesn't stop with his remarks, "the chihuahua's gone mad."

"Shut up, Jungkook!" you whirl around angrily to face him. "How could you do that to me?!"

He quirks a brow. "Do what to you? I'm sorry, am I the one who forcefully brought you here? Am I tripping or are you?"

You push at his chest, "you're a fucking whore! Tonguing a girl in front of everyone, in front of me?"

His shoulders shake in silent laughter and you cross your arms when he starts cackling loudly. The music is drowned out and muffled behind the door, but it's nothing compared to how hysterically Jungkook is laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask lamely. He throws his head back as he clutches his stomach, and you're starting to get annoyed. You push him on the bed, but he's still laughing. "Quit it already," your voice wavers, but you don't back down as you smack his chest. You place your knees on both sides of his hips to limit his movement and cover his mouth to shut him up.

His crescent eyes turn intense instantly as he glares at you under his hooded lids. He exerts only a tiny bit of his energy into pushing your hand away and you weakly collapse on him. It's foul play to compete with his muscles, and you realize he can snap you in half if he wanted to regardless of your rush of adrenaline.

You sit back up as he lowly speaks, "The fuck's it to you? I wanted to fuck her, and I was going to until you stepped in as if you're my girlfriend. Tell me why I shouldn't go back to her right now." He clasps his hands under his head, making himself comfortable with your weight pressing against his crotch.

"You know why," you huff with a frown, and you look so cute in the dim lighting with your baggy knitted sweater bunching up on the sleeves, sitting on his bulge with so much innocence in your expression. He's smitten, but it doesn't show in his cold stare. "I'm your girl, and I won't tolerate you messing around with other women. It's slutty!" You slightly bounce for emphasis, but your knee-length skirt hides your actions. Jungkook feels it with you, and his eyes trail down to your lower region.

"My girl?" he parrots with a raised brow. He gazes back into your eyes. "You do my homework."

"I don't care. I love you," you plead pathetically, "please say you love me back."

"Wasn't I a whore just a second ago?"

"You were! Apologize to me," you harshly yank his head back by his hair. He doesn't react in the slightest, so you softly add, "please."

"Oh little girl," he sighs, "are you really trying to dominate me right now?"

"I am dominating you. Promise me you won't kiss another girl like that again. I won't forgive you a second time."

"Yeah? What's my loss?"

"Well, you're lazy in school," you bluntly state, "and no one loves you like I do. No one would try to cater to you like I do. I'd do anything for you, Kookie." You tug down your skirt to take it off and plop back down on him before saying, "Including sex. You can only use me for your sexual needs."

He's enamored by your words, but he doesn't dare share it with you. Instead, he thrusts upwards and you yelp when you jump. "Go on then," he says nonchalantly. "Show me how much of a slut you are."

"U-Um, okay," you stutter and start unzipping his black denim jeans. You've seen a lot of porn videos to make sure you were prepared for the next step with Jungkook, but you have no experience with penetration.

And he realizes that rather quickly when you're so meek with your actions. With a groan, he asks, "You're not a fucking virgin, are you?"

"I've been saving it for the right guy," you answer with offence. This is a special occasion, and you want him to take it as seriously as you do. But it's definitely not a good idea to be snarky with him when you can barely remember the steps for safe sex. "Do you have a condom?"

"It's in my pocket," he grumbles and points at his front without taking it out himself. You're excited and nervous as you tear the wrapper and take out the preservative. You have no idea how to put it on, but you're topping so you clumsily push down his briefs. Jungkook is surprisingly throbbing under you, and you blush at the sight of his erection.

He stops himself from teasing you and saying that the girl from earlier gave him this boner, but he doesn't want to be cruel yet. It's your first time, and truthfully, he jacks off to thought of you too often anyway. He can handle being somewhat nice by staying quiet, but that doesn't mean he would teach you how to put on a condom.

You slip it on with little struggle, and don't waste any time in positioning his cock in your entrance. Before he can stop you, you sink down on his length with a painful moan. He wants to tell you that losing your virginity in this position is the most painful, but instead he groans, "Holy shit, how are you so fucking tight?"

It hurts so fucking bad. Your tear ducts are like clockwork as they water instantly, but you lower yourself down to the hilt anyway. You're quite literally sitting on his cock as you try to catch your breath because God, you're in so much pain.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asks, but he's more worried about controlling himself from fucking into you before you can adjust. It's difficult, but he's trying.

"Jungkook," you whimper quietly with your eyes screwed shut, "it hurts."

"You're so fucking dumb for doing this, but you feel so fucking good," he pants as he holds your hips.

"Thank you," you muster out in a breath. A few seconds pass until the pain starts to numb, and you move against him very slowly. Your walls are stinging, but it feels like Heaven for Jungkook who you clench down on.

"Go up and down," he instructs with a bit lip. He tries to move your hips, but you're resisting in fear of another shock of pain. "Come on!"

"Can you wait?" you hiss through clenched teeth.

He's trying to rile you up when he says, "Sana wouldn't take this fucking long."

And it works, because you bounce once. "Don't say her name!"

He groans at your tightness, and he can't believe how wet you are. You're dripping on him, and he curses himself for holding back because of your hopeless romance. He can't entertain your conservative way of going on about this any longer, so he continues, "She would have made me cum by now, but this prissy princess can't even get a move on."

It's almost pathetic how one push from Jungkook makes you start moving, and it feels less uncomfortable to hop up and down against his pelvis. The filthy sound of slapping skin mixing with the generic radio music is making you feel so slutty because it's so stereotypical, but when Jungkook moans, it brings heat all over your body. You take your sweater off when sweat begins to cumulate on your temples, and he commands, "Take off your bra too."

He's thrusting into you as you unclasp the black material, freeing your breasts as he finds his new eyecandies. You are so pretty, your nipples are so hard, and your cunt sucks him in so perfectly. It almost upsets him when he realizes how much pleasure he's deprived himself of; the amount only you seem to be able to provide, because it's beyond physical intimacy.

"Good girl," he exhales and gently slams into you with his hands fondling your tits. You smile coyly through your tears, and he asks, "Does it still hurt?"

You contemplate for a second, because you don't feel the best yet, but you don't want to disappoint Jungkook either. "I-It doesn't," you lie.

Jungkook mentally rolls his eyes; he really wants to believe you so he can chase his high, but he sees right through you. He slaps your tit without mercy and chastises you, "don't lie. I thought this was your little moment of control."

"I'm sorry," you pout as you slowly ride him.

"Another lie," he slaps your other tit more harshly and you yelp.

"I'm not lying!" you plead and hasten your pace, desperate to sell your lie. It's working, because you're starting to feel a knot in your stomach the more you adjust.

He moans with you, and you lose yourself when he stills your hips and begins to fuck you himself. It's rough, loud, and the pain is your pleasure. His balls slap against your skin as he easily slides in and out of you with the help of your arousal. Your love dawns on him when you're so turned on for him without any foreplay, and he's on cloud nine because nothing can compare to being inside you.

The setting is so unlike you, fucking in someone's bedroom with a bunch of people behind the unlocked door who can barge in at any given moment, but he finds it so sexy. You only care about being with him, and you really do look like his slut now.

His hands start holding onto your ass, kneading it until it turns red with his fingerprints, and he demands you to kiss him. You're out of it, your ears are ringing and you can only moan out his name, but you can't bear to ignore him. Your lips fall on his, and the kiss is sloppy with his tongue all over your mouth. You can't keep up, but your chest swells with pride when you realize how needy he is for you. He goes as far as to spit in your mouth, and you swallow it without hesitation.

"You want me to play with your clit?" he murmurs against your lips, and his voice sounds so airy and melodic to your ears. "Hm? Want me to make you feel good, little slut?"

You whine without a clear response because his lips feel so soft and wet, and that's the only thing you can focus on. All you want to do is kiss him and he doesn't stop you from doing so, but you're even more overwhelmed when he starts touching you while penetrating you. "No," you whimper, "I'll cum."

"A slut can take it," he grunts and rubs your clit faster, and you come undone all too soon. You moan loudly as you tremble, shaking as he rides out your high with a pinch to your clit. You're numb when you collapse on top of him, but he's relentless with his thrusts. He's using your body as you intended, and he's vocal with his pleasure and teasing climax. It's remarkable how he holds you up when you've gone limp and still fucks you just as hard.

You want to record his voice when he starts to whine pathetically, but you have no energy left within. He's panting in your ear, and it's not long before his hips fall on the mattress with a sigh. He's surprised by how powerful his orgasm was, as he fills the condom with his release instantly. His cock is still nestled inside you as both of you recover from your climax.

"Get off," he taps your thigh, and he pushes you off when you don't obey immediately. Your spell has worn off as he starts to dress himself. "I'm going back to the dorms." You listen to him with your mind in a haze. "Unless you want to get raped on your way without me, get the fuck up now."

"Can you carry me please?"

He shrugs and swings your arm over his shoulder, picking up your body with ease. He collects your clothes in his hand, but doesn't hand them to you as he steps out of the room.

"W-Wait, Jungkook, I'm naked-"

"You're my girl, no? Be a good slut and shut the fuck up."

Dangling off his shoulder with your bare tits pressed against his back, you close your eyes and drift off on the way to campus.

Boyfriends typically drop their girlfriends off anyway, right?

[luimagines]

Hi! can I request wind scenario (in group) having a crush on gn reader (same age as him) whos kinda like a ghost like fading through walls, going invisible, making the room go cold ect. but they're still hyrulian (did I spell it right-)? (plush anon)

Masterlist

I mean, most people call them Hylian. But I suppose your rendition isn't wrong, since they're from Hyrule. Like a nationality versus a race.

Ok, I think I have an idea with what you mean. Ghostly abilities with a crushing Wind!

I hope I did it justice!

Scenario under the cut!

It was time. You had fought against it for so long.

It was time to track down Wind and figuring out what was eating at him.

You took a deep breath and fazed through the walls of the Wild's house.

He was getting worse and it was starting to worry you. It was unnoticeable at first but he would wander off and come back just fine. So no one did anything. Later though, he would walk off earlier and stay away for longer.

You were beginning to miss him.

But now, your group was no longer in an open space and there were less places for him to hide inside.

You hoped at least he didn't go outside. That would make things harder for you.

You also hoped that Wild wasn't going to get mad at you for just walking through the place. It's not something the others... appreciated... especially when you never gave out a warning.

But that was a them problem.

Wind never seemed to mind.

On the other hand though, you didn't want to risk getting a lecture and ruining your plan by fazing, and by extension, trespassing through the house. So you went invisible for good measure.

The only thing you couldn't fix was how the room always dropped in temperature but if you fast enough it wouldn't make a difference.

Peak in. Look for Wind. Dip if he's not there.

Simple plan of action. Simple solution.

It... didn't occur to you that Wild's house had a few more rooms than he let on, or let the others into. It also didn't occur to you that some places could only be reached by the outside and could then be an excellent place to hide.

Not from you though.

So the search didn't really last all that long.

Wind was hiding under the desk of the outer work house.

He looked like he was crying and was quietly shaking from weight of them.

Concern flooded through your system and you dropped next to him immediately. You went to place your hand on his wrist but he jerked up and made eye contact.

He screamed and jumped in place, slamming his head against the top of the desk and came back down with his hands on his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You reached out and began to rub the poor spot on his head, knocking his hands out of the way. "I probably should have said something first. Are you ok? I mean, obviously not if you're crying but that looked like it hurt-"

"I'm fine." Wind knocked your hands away and wiped his face with his sleeve. There was an edge to his words, and it shocked you a bit.

Wind was never hostile with you and the change made you instinctually move back with your hands up.

"Um... What happened?" You try instead. Maybe it was just the residue pain talking.

"Nothing." Wind sniffles and you swear you could almost see him putting up walls around himself. High and imposing and you nearly sink to the ground at the thought of him cutting you off.

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying over it.” You say gently. “It’s ok to cry Wind. My dad says that it’s just being alive and it’s nothing you have to hide. But why? Did someone hurt you?”

The thought makes you angry and the closet’s temperature plummets with your train of thought. “Who did it? Just say the word and I’ll deal with them.”

Wind hugs himself tighter and shakes his head. “No. No one hurt me.

“Then why...” You reach out again and hesitate to place your hand on Wind’s wrist again. After a second of deliberation you touch him and try reaching out again. “Wind, I’m your friend. What can I do help?”

“Nothing.” He spits and looks away from you. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t... You were the last person that I wanted to find me like this.”

He pushes past you and opens the door to the outside.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask instead and chase him. “Wind, what’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me? Are you mad at me?”

“No.” He spins around and takes a deep breath. “It’s... nothing you have to be worried about. The problem is with me. I’ll get over it.”

“But I want to help...” You admit. It sounds weak even to your ears and you can only imagine how Wind must think it’s a little pathetic how little you actually contribute to the group.

It’s something that’s been bugging recently but everyone has been welcoming despite your abilities and they let you know when to take a step back from running head first.

It’s not a thought you focus on frequently but if Wind thinks of you that way...

Well... It hurts more than you’re willing to admit.

Wind chuckles slightly, ruefully, cutting off your thoughts. He begins to run a hand through his hair and he looks at the ground instead. “I know you do. You help everyone. You’re incredible like that, you know. I admire that about you. It’s one of your many talents that I can’t even begin to list them all off or I’ll be here all day. But this... Isn’t something that you can fix or help with. You wouldn’t want to help me anyway, if you knew what I did...or rather how I did it.”

He doesn’t anything more.

“But you’re Link.” You say and chance a step toward him. The use of his name, something you only use when alone with only one of them, catches his attention but he’s quick to look away from you again. “And you’re my friend. Why can’t I help you? Maybe just telling me would help, if there’s nothing I can do physically.”

“I...” Wind wipes his face again. “I can’t. It would change the way you see me. I know it. It’s not... I don’t know if I can handle that. I think it’ll hurt to much to see your face look at me in horror. It wouldn’t be a good look for you anyway. You’re too pretty and sweet and nice and I’m-.”

“Wind.” You begin to walk toward him more, counting on the fact that he’s still talking to you that he won’t run away. “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about. But do what to know how I see you?”

He blinks, a little wide eyed and fearful but nods.

“I see an incredibly brave hero. Someone’s friend. Someone’s brother. Someone’s right hand man. Someone who saw a problem and wanted to fix it. Someone who was willing to travel the world and risk his own life to protect the people he cares about. Someone who loves adventure and the ocean and always sure wonder in his eyes... I admire the way you see life and I think you’re a genius. There’s a way your brain works that I find absolutely fascinating.” You put your hands on his shoulders. “I trust you. I care about you. And... I want to help you with your problems. I want to know your dreams and your goals and I want to see more of your world and know more about the people you care about...”

You stop and gulp. It’s getting a little too real for you to handle. Time to stop talking about that less you say something you can’t take back.

“If you’d let me anyway.” You finished lamely. “My... My point is that, you’re a good person. You have a good heart and a good head on your shoulders. You... You’ve done so much and can do so much more if you put mind to it. Not only did you save the world but I bet that you’ll change it for the better. I want to be able to see it. You are many things Link, but you’re not cruel. If you did a bad thing, I’m sure it was for a good reason.”

Wind steps closer to you to close the distance and hugs you. 

Tight.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” He says into your hair.

You hug him back with just as much force and grin into his neck, content with the contact. “I’d give you the world if I could Link.”

“Not if I give it to you first.” He fires back and lets go slightly. He chances a look at your face and studies it for a moment. 

You look back at him and do the same. He’s beginning to look more like himself and a lot less like he’s been crying. He’s got a large smile on his face before it morphs into a more determined one.

It catches you off guard but right as you try to question him, he leans in and places a hesitant and delicate kiss to your cheek. 

It’s more like a butterfly touch with how nervous he is to do it and you barely feel it.

But it feels a little more magical that way and your heart flutters into a frenzy.

Your hand reaches your mouth and you have trouble looking him in the eye after that. You’re happy. Confused. But happy. 

The blush on your face, you know, is very bright and Wind smiles at your reaction.

“What was that for?” You whisper.

“A thank you.” Wind offers his arm despite the massive blush me has on his face as well. He looks pleased. “You said you wanted to know me more... And well, I’d like to know you more to. Want to go to the tower with me?”

He points to the top of the town, beyond the houses and where you know Purah the scientist resides to do her research.

There’s hardly any visitors there, so it would just be you and him...

You grin and take his arm.  “I’d like that a lot actually.” 

[morkleemelon]

nct ideal types 2021 :: 127

dream version | the confirmed facts are all from various interviews or fan questions but ‘my thoughts’ may well not be accurate! this is just for fun~ mark and haechan are in the dream version

moon taeil

confirmed: someone cute with a short bob hairstyle

my thoughts:

taeil is a super chill, laid back guy who gets along with more outgoing members like johnny and haechan. this makes me believe he’d want a funny, outgoing partner to balance with his personality

he mentioned cute so this makes me think small or petite. definitely shorter than him.

he said once that he would love to sing to his future girlfriend all the time (she will be so lucky oh my gosh). not to mention he is very passionate about music and dropped out of a prestigious music school to join nct. so he would definitely need someone who likes and appreciates music

he said if he were a girl, he’d date yuta out of all of the 127 members. so perhaps he just thinks yuta is boyfriend material, but maybe taeil is attracted to the strong-minded, caring type

seo johnny

confirmed: someone who smiles at him a lot. similar to girl’s generation’s yoona

my thoughts: 

johnny seems to get along with everyone so this is a bit tricky to try to determine. he confirmed he likes yoona so going off of that, she’s obviously gorgeous and has a beautiful smile. her personality is also elegant, but down to earth and funny

he was voted by everyone including himself as the most romantic member. he says that he hopes one day he can build christmas trees with his wife just like he used to do with his mom (I’m so soft). I think he’s looking for someone who likes sappy romance and will flirt back with him

he’s tall. and since he named yoona as his ideal type, I think he’d prefer a taller girl (but not taller than him). then again, I’m not sure if he’d care all too much 

he said he would date doyoung if he were a girl so I think that entails someone easily tease-able, neat, and proper

lee taeyong

confirmed: someone who can teach him, lead him, and make up for his flaws. a girl with long hair of any race. laid back. his ideal type is the same as ten’s. someone hard-working has a tough style. 

my thoughts:

he’s highkey a weeb (don’t deny this). no matter how charismatic he is on stage, we all know he’s a big softie who likes bugs and frogs and anime. he expressed he had a really hard time coming out of his shell and he’s quite introverted. he needs someone who’s strong-minded and knows what they’re doing

I remember when the rookies just came out in like 2014 and TY was 19 (?) ish and he confirmed that he’d never dated anyone yet. nobody believed him because he was so handsome but I have a feeling he was telling the truth. it’s been several years since then so I’m not sure how things have changed, but I have a feeling he would like someone experienced.

“any race” what a king. looks-wise besides having long hair, I can envision someone with great style. perhaps dyed hair, multiple piercings, tattoos, the works. fashion is something that tae really appreciates

nakamoto yuta

confirmed: a girl with short hair and is around 15 cm shorter than him (so about 160cm aka 5′3″). an empathetic, cute girl who doesn’t ‘act pretty’. someone bright and comfortable

my thoughts:

he has a lot of confirmed facts about looks which are also really specific. maybe he just knows what he wants. but I also thinks he has experience. it seems like he wants a tomboy who has a strong vibe

he likes being the ‘oppa’ and taking care of others like we see him do with winwin, mark, and jungwoo. he’d be into someone who looks up to him and who he can lead

I don’t have a reason but I think he would like someone who laughs a lot and laughs at his jokes (maybe because mark does and he loves mark)

someone who’s not embarrassed to be herself

during oshiete japan they had to pick out of 4 types of roses to gift to their ‘girlfriend’. him and haechan were the only ones who chose to give 3 roses to their ‘girlfriend’. the psychologist analyzed this and said that they’re ‘flirts who seek attention’. so that being said, I think yuta would like someone who gives him a lot of attention and reactions

kim doyoung

confirmed: someone polite and who treats their elders well

my thoughts:

I mean this in all seriousness, someone the exact opposite as haechan. while we can see in rare times that he does care for him, doyoung usually cannot stand haechan and all his tricks and taunting. as his confirmed type outlines, doie is really looking for someone who takes things seriously and listens to him well

I think he often feels underappreciated - a lot of times during his mv viewing reactions, the editors show another member during his part or just cut him out and you can tell he’s really disappointed (it hurts my heart). he would really like someone who goes out of their way to make him feel appreciated. 

when nct 127 went on oshiete japan, doyoung was the only one to pick the potted rose and the psychologist there said that it means he isn’t looking to just date around, but rather to settle down and have a stable relationship. I strongly believe that doyoung is looking for someone long-term.

also, his love language is giving gifts (from my observation since he often gifts the members foods during mv shoots and gifted TY the couple ring). my best guess is that he’d want to spoil his partner a lot with gifts to show his feelings. someone who appreciates his gifts and understands that they come from his heart

he thinks ariana grande is hot so that’s the only visual thing I can think of. she’s obviously very gorgeous but she’s petite and has an amazing voice

jung jaehyun

confirmed: a kind woman with long, straight hair who can communicate well with him. someone dependable, healthy, and into sports. someone usually calm but can be cute. doesn’t care if she’s older or younger. someone similar to him. someone like singer/actress IU. 

my thoughts: 

he has a lot of confirmed facts so I don’t have to make many assumptions here. someone with girl next door energy? 

he says he likes IU, so going with that, someone petite and cute. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and treats everyone with kindness.

I think J was born to be romantic (literally, born on valentines day). he said his previous ambition was to be a teen dad and his lines from make a wish english version “spoil her with loyalty” sum up my next prediction: he wants someone like a best friend who’s in it for the long run

dong sicheng

confirmed: someone with long, black hair

my thoughts:

he said his favorite actress is shu qi. although I don’t know if he just likes her acting or if she actually fits his ideal type, she is a traditional chinese beauty which I think winwin appreciates

he’s really introverted and is often overwhelmed by affection (i.e. all of the nct members). the exception is jaehyun and winwin seems to be the most comfortable around him. this makes me think he wants someone calm and chic

sicheng prefers staying inside to going out. not to diagnose him at all, but I reckon he can get socially anxious around large amounts of people. he’d like a partner who doesn’t overwhelm him and understands him

he really can’t cook (he couldn’t turn on a stove to make an egg on winformation). in the end, it wouldn’t matter, but i’m thinking that if you can cook you’d certainly earn some bonus points with him. it’s like that saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’.

kim jungwoo

confirmed: n/a

my thoughts: 

of all the members, I think jungwoo has expressed the least about his ideal type. not to make any unnecessary assumptions (but that’s all this post is really), but someone said he has strong bi energy. I can’t say anything because I’m not bi myself and I’m not him, but I can see this being a thing. take this with a grain of salt because I don’t actually have evidence

during oshiete japan, he was the only one to pick the large bouquet of roses to give to his ‘lover’. the psychologist analyzed this as him liking to pretend that he is in love and wanting to show his good side. he “can’t express his real feelings and doesn’t want to ever show his lame side to his lover”. because of this, I strongly feel that jungwoo would need someone who lifts his confidence and reassures him

the members he gets along with the most are probably yuta and mark. their personalities are quite different but based on their similarities, I think he is attracted to confidence, open-mindedness, and good work ethic.

[wavesmp3]

you jump; i jump

sunwoo x reader 

requested from sensory prompts #46: the waver in someone’s voice when they’re stressed genre: spy au, exes (ish) to lovers wc: 5.6k  warnings: cursing, tiny bit of gore/blood

Sunwoo used to pride himself for being able to keep his cool, in even the most unimaginable situations. He kept his exterior when Haknyeon turned out to be double crossing their agency, Creker, and secretly sending information to a rivaling one the whole time. Sunwoo didn’t crack when his entire mission in Sydney blew up right in his fucking face, never even flinched when his gear malfunctioned dumping him in a hospital for a week. But all those instances seem to fall flat now. All the times where Sunwoo stayed strong seem to disappear the moment he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around only to come face to face with you. “What are you-“ he falters, grasping at the last bits of crumbling pride and hanging on to the dip in his voice. “What are you doing here?” 

“You forgot this,” you continue, ignoring him entirely, “forgot it in Vienna specifically.” You dangle a watch in front of his face. The same watch he lost somewhere in Austria three months ago, at the same time that he was in the middle of the most intense and longest mission the agency had ever given him, and more notably, around the same time he met you. “Don’t look so shocked.” You scoff when he fails to respond. “You told me you were gonna be here.” 

Sunwoo laughs, except it’s less of a laugh and more of an exhale of pure disbelief. “I know what I said, but you’re…” his voice trails off, some part of him unable to finish the sentence and another part of him still too disturbed to believe it. 

You tilt your head with faux confusion. “I’m what?”

Sunwoo gulps. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

VIENNA, AUSTRIA  THREE MONTHS AGO 

Sunwoo remembers, with a starling amount of clarity, all that happened three months ago. He can recall every day he spent roaming the streets of Vienna with you despite the way he’s been trying to drown out the memories and douse his lingering feelings. 

When he met you at a pub on one of his first nights there, he told himself he entertained your conversation because, well, to put it bluntly, he thought you were cute. Although the small tug in his gut doesn’t help justify why he found himself stumbling back to his hotel room with you by his side. And there’s really no good excuse for the tiny sting of disappointment Sunwoo feels when he wakes up alone the next morning. 

It’s two days after that night when Sunwoo sees you again, sitting on a bench with a book in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. It’s an odd coincidence that he should see you in Vienna again, but the small pang of doubt is quickly replaced with a more promising burst of elation. Sunwoo can’t tell if it’s exhilarating or terrifying.

“Ah,” you mutter when you notice him approaching, “Sunwoo right?” It’s a facade, Sunwoo thinks to himself, he knows you remember his name, knows you only pretend to forget. But he doesn’t mention that, instead he nods rather lamely, shoving his fists into his pockets and burying away the voice of reason in the back of his head telling him this is a mistake. “Sit.” You say, moving your things to the other side of the bench and patting the now empty spot next to you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And in retrospect, it’s quite obvious that Sunwoo should have found the words alarming. Really, he should have begun to put his guard up the second he spotted you in Vienna again. But at that moment in time, the only thing Sunwoo can think to ask is if he was worth the wait. 

Your tongue darts out, swiping at your bottom lip in thought for the smallest of seconds, before disappearing into your mouth again. “Yeah,” you say, lips turning up into an intrigued smile, “you were.” 

—

Sunwoo doesn’t think much of the way he comes to trust you so easily, telling you the truth about his job in the darkness of the hotel room. He doesn’t think anything of the way you hang onto his every word without ever sharing much about yourself. And when one day, you sit down at the cafe booth across from him and ask, “what’s your current mission,” Sunwoo doesn’t think twice before telling you everything about his objective to infiltrate Pegasus. He also doesn’t notice the phone call you make soon after. 

—

When the truth does come out, it comes fast, like water rushing off a cliff and crashing into Sunwoo sitting unsuspecting at the bottom. It comes in the form of a charity event that he only attends as part of the mission which sent him to Vienna to begin with. The truth arrives, like a rock in his gut, at the same second that Sunwoo sees you across the hall. You, who he last saw at the hotel, and you, who’s supposed to be on a train to Paris right now. And when your eyes finally catch his, there’s something unmistakable swimming in them. You’ve been caught, Sunwoo thinks, finally placing a name to the familiar way you swallow and dart your eyes around the room. Sunwoo recognizes the feeling, vaguely remembers the rush he felt once in Santiago and again in New York. 

“I can explain,” you hiss, quiet and breathless, finding him outside the hall after a few minutes. 

And Sunwoo knows he should be dying for an explanation of what you’re doing here or who you’re really working with. Some small part of Sunwoo knows that he should already be replaying every conversation and trying to determine how much information he’s given you to use against him. But another, larger part of him, that’s poking at his heart and prodding at his brain, chooses to stare at your lying eyes, study the face he’s come to memorize, and lamely ask, “how much of…” his voice tapers off, gesturing to the empty space in between you two, “of this was a lie?”

You don’t respond, but in the silence Sunwoo finds the answer anyways. 

All of it.

—

It’s not long after that night that a new message from the case officer shows up for him.  

You’re on thin ice. New mission: get rid of that Pegasus agent. 

PRESENT TIME  THREE MONTHS AFTER VIENNA

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here?” Sunwoo asks you again, shifting in his plastic red chair and keeping his gaze focused on the street you’re both seated beside. He hadn’t planned on hanging out after crossing paths with you earlier today. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but when you offer him a meal in exchange for a conversation, his rumbling stomach agrees before he can even consider the offer. The scene you lead him to is a busy one, filled with people rushing down the road and bustling behind each of the food stalls. It’s a mosh-posh of neon signs, kicked up dust, and the aroma of food being fried. More importantly, it’s a loud area, one where you and Sunwoo can talk freely without the worry of being heard by someone seated nearby. He takes a bite into his skewer, waiting for your response. 

“And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t follow through with the mission,” you counter, twirling your lime green straw with the tip of your finger. “The one where you were supposed to kill me.” 

You say it plainly, but something in Sunwoo’s stomach turns hard at the reminder anyways. “We’re spies,” he mutters behind clenched teeth, “not assassins.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, taking a sip from your coke, “the job description is pretty vague.” 

The words are met with a taut silence, a snap of Sunwoo’s eyes towards yours, and a search for any implication of murder behind the sentence. 

“It’s a joke,” you choke, wiping the coke that slips from your mouth and quickly shaking your head, “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Well anyways,” Sunwoo continues, “I tried to finish the mission. Even hired someone to find you.” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunwoo realizes he’s told you too much, realizes he’s let the truth slip too easily--again. Biting his lip, he thinks this must be what people mean when they say ‘old habits die hard’. 

“He didn’t follow through.” You tell him as if to fill him in on how exactly you’re still alive and sitting across from him right here, right now, miles away from Vienna and months after Sunwoo’s hire took his money and ran. “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

And this you say with a taunting smile, catching his eyes like there’s a private joke concealed behind them. Sunwoo only gulps and pulls his focus back to the busy street.

“So what do you want with me?”

“I left Pegasus.” You answer, clearing your throat.

Sunwoo waits. He waits for you to take it back, for you to laugh at his widened eyes and say it’s a joke. The punchline never comes. “You’re an idiot.” He settles on.

“And I’ve got two agencies who’d prefer me to be dead right about now.” You grimace. “But despite the bounty on my head, I’m still here which means you’re probably not on great terms with Creker either.”

“Get to the point.”

“We both have people who want us dead. We both have next to nothing to lose at this point. So let’s team up.” You pause, checking Sunwoo’s reaction. He watches you intently, body pushing against the creaking plastic table in an attempt to hear you better. With an almost mischievous glint in your eyes and a satisfied quirk, you continue: “Let’s take back what we stole for them.”

There’s a long moment where Sunwoo just stares at you, deciphering what to make of the proposition. You appear genuine, Sunwoo decides leaning away from the table until his back hits the chair, but Sunwoo isn’t exactly sure how much he trusts his own judgement considering the last time he decided you were sincere you had been lying to him left and right.

Sunwoo lifts his hand to the vendor of the food stall you’re sitting by. The previous glint in your eyes is gone, overshadowed by a darker shade of doubt. “What are you doing?” you finally ask, voice lower and less excited than it had been a second ago.

With a tired sigh, he replies, “I’m gonna need more food while you explain your plan.”

Sunwoo has to swallow back the smile that nearly emerges at how happy you get.

--

It’s a simple enough idea. Clear our names, you had explained, wipe ourselves entirely from both agencies. And it’ll work too, Sunwoo realizes when you begin the second explanation on the logistics of the whole operation. The only downside to your plan is you. Because the last person Sunwoo wants to start a new mission with is the same person who broke his heart three months ago. And it’s bothersome, almost, how calm you are and how collected you appear, especially compared to how scattered Sunwoo feels just to be around you again.

“What do you think?” You ask once you’ve explained your plan completely, tapping anxiously on the table.

“I think,” Sunwoo starts, inhaling deeply, “you’ve thought about this way too much.”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gulping down some more coke, “three months is kind of a long time.”

And yeah, he thinks, it is. But despite the time that’s passed since you’ve last seen each other and despite the way Sunwoo thought he was over you, his stomach still flips each time you look his way. He just prays that the past three months have at least somewhat watered down how he used to feel about you.

“How do I know you won’t ditch me after we clear you?” Sunwoo asks, pushing away the thoughts of lingering heartache to a corner of his mind.

“We’ll do you first.” You state simply. “Steal your file off Creker and get the bounty off your head first. Then we’ll do me.”

“And then how do you know that I won’t ditch you?”

You falter at that, frowning for the smallest of seconds, then say, “I don’t.”

Sunwoo nods, pretending to contemplate your offer. But in all transparency, Sunwoo knew he’d agree to your plan despite the bile that turns up at your name because with the way he’s been hiding in a crappy motel and eating instant ramen every night, it’s kind of hard to refuse any proposition that gives him the slightest chance at an out from Creker. 

“Okay,” he finally utters, wiping the crumbs of his second skewer off his hands, “let’s do it.” You meet his eyes expectantly. Nodding, he says,

“Let’s team up.”

//

You and Sunwoo clash more than anything else on the first day of prepping for the mission, crammed in a corner of Sunwoo’s dingy motel with two half finished cans of red bull sitting forgotten on the table, fighting about even the smallest details.

“I know the building,” Sunwoo argues, pointing to the floor plan you have pulled up on your laptop, “and this is the entrance we should use.”

“But using this entrance,” you refute, dragging your finger across the screen to show him exactly what you mean, “will give us better access to security and admin. And trust me, I know the building better than you do.”

“How do you—” Sunwoo stills. Something seems to register in your eyes at that moment as well, a small recognition of the tiny slip up, a barely audible acknowledgement that comes in the form of a cough. And all at once, Sunwoo’s reminded of the time he spent spilling his heart to you in Vienna under more covers than he was aware of. Sunwoo’s harshly thrown against the realization that you must’ve been watching him, surveying him long before you ever found him in that Austrian pub.

“See, I knew this wouldn’t work.” He grumbles, shaking his head. “You know too much about me. No, actually, you know everything about me. And I--” there’s a dip in his tone, “I know nothing about you.”

“Fine then, ask.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you think will even the playing field between us. Whatever it is you want to know about me,” you shut the laptop and turn your body to face him completely, an action that exudes largely frustration but more faintly, guilt, “just ask.”

--

Sunwoo learns more about you than he had intended to. He learns about the origin of the scar that runs along your spine. A fucked up operation in Shanghai, you tell him, writing over the lie you told him three months ago about it being from your childhood. He learns about your old partner Younghoon and about the shadow falling over your forehead at the sound of his name. He’s told about how you got involved with Pegasus to begin with, a similar story to Sunwoo’s beginning with Creker: an unlucky concoction of desperation and coincidence. You tell him, with reluctance, your most embarrassing story, followed by a long list of firsts and favorites. So by the time night falls, with two empty red bulls at the foot of the bed and the building’s floor plan now forgotten behind the black screen of your laptop, Sunwoo learns enough to rebuild a fraction of the trust he lost.

//

Everything goes smoother after that. You and Sunwoo seem to fall into a rhythm, meeting at a café in the morning and at the motel in the afternoon, planning out the missions with far less difficulty than before. A rather quick adjustment, from both of your ends, and an even faster allocation of responsibilities. He finds himself looking forward to sitting in front of your open laptop each day and conjuring new ways to distract you every hour. 

And it’s after meeting up with you one night, not as partners but—perhaps more cruelly—as friends, that a dangerously familiar warmth blooms in his chest and refuses to wilt away when he sees you again the next day. Sunwoo knows that he should be doing something, anything to blow out the flame, but instead he feeds the fire and prays that this time it spreads from his heart to yours.

//

“Where’d you get all of this?” Sunwoo questions one day when you show up at the motel with a suitcase full of equipment. An assortment of laptops, earpieces, weapons, and randomly picked gadgets.

“Took it from Pegasus before I left,” you smirk, pulling out an earpiece and holding it out in front of his ear. “You’re usually on the field, right? The one in action?” He nods. “Good, you can be the agent for this mission then,” you mumble, setting down the earpiece and holding up another. “I’m usually the person behind the computer anyways. Was even a handler for a mission in Seoul once.” You place the earpiece in his palm and begin to pull out the other pieces of equipment from the suitcase.

“What about Vienna?” Sunwoo says, inspecting a certain gadget from the case. “You were on the field then.” And it’s a question that would’ve been asked with malice if it had come up a couple weeks ago, but right now, there’s nothing but curiosity behind Sunwoo’s words.

“Oh,” you hesitate, a small smile appearing briefly, “I guess I do both.”

Sunwoo doesn’t ponder over your answer for long.

It’s later that day, right as you’re about to leave, that you frown at Sunwoo’s head, matter-of-factly saying, “you should change your hair before the mission.” Then, with a laugh bubbling behind your teeth, you add, “again.”

(Sunwoo changed his appearance a lot. One of the tactics that had stuck from his training days. Never really in big ways, but small changes here and there every couple of months. Sometimes it was a new piercing that he’d wear for a year and let close up in the next, and other times the change came in the form of a temporary tattoo imprinted on his neck whilst in Vancouver with Kevin. When Sunwoo met you in Vienna his hair was a light brown that he had gotten done in Tokyo and hadn’t bothered to touch up since. So when the time had come to change something again, he headed to the hair salon.

“When’d you do this?” you asked him that night, running a hand through the new red hair. 

“Just today.” He answered, hoping you wouldn’t ask for a reason. 

“I like it.” 

“More than the brown?”

“Way more.” You whispered, leaning in until he felt the breath of your words on his lips. 

And in the moment before you closed the distance, Sunwoo had made a silent vow to never change his hair again.)

Sunwoo gets his hair done the day after you suggest it, and when he returns to the motel from the salon, he finds you already there.

“Oh good, you’re back.” You mumble, arms full and an extra key card to his room that he had given you out of convenience a while back held between your teeth. “I just came to drop these off because I have to go to—" you stop, straightening yourself and eyes fixated on him. “You got your hair done.”

It’s an observation, a small, stupid thing really. A comment made in passing that should feel routine with as much time as you and Sunwoo spend together and one that should feel even more mundane considering you were the one to suggest it. But there’s something about the way you say the words that makes Sunwoo feel slightly breathless anyways. “Yeah,” he finally affirms, running a hand through his now black hair, “I did.”

You nod in acknowledgement, setting the things in your hands down, then turn to leave. 

“Wait,” he calls out. You do, pausing three paces away from the door and give a long look to the hand he’s placed on your arm to stop you before turning around to face him. And the next words seem to fall off the edge of Sunwoo’s mouth at that moment, tumbling back down his throat and landing heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Do you still…” he hesitates, attempting to smooth over the nervousness folding up in the corners of his mind. 

“What?” 

“Do you still like my hair?”

You consider it for a moment, bringing a hand up to tug at the new black fringe. And there’s something unmistakably domestic about the way you tilt your head in concentration, eyes fixed on Sunwoo’s hair as if there’s nothing more important for you to be doing in this moment. He watches you evaluate his hair closely. 

“Yeah,” you finally say, eyes meeting his and something like a double meaning swimming in them, “I still like it.”

//

The first mission goes smoothly thanks to you sitting back at the motel instructing Sunwoo which turns to take and what files to download. So with a flash drive containing all the information he needs to free himself from the agency stuffed in his pocket, he turns to leave, whispering into his earpiece, “is the exit path clear?”

“Shit.”

He stops walking. “What?”

“It’s blocked. I think I can get you out another way, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, go one story below. Take two rights and then a left.” He does as you say, feet hitting the ground as quietly and as quickly as possible. The less time he spends in the building the better. “At the end of the hall, there’s a window.” You say once he’s near the place you directed him too. His stomach drops. “Jump from it.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, studying the drop with grimace. “I really hate heights.”

“I know.” And there’s a misplaced softness when Sunwoo hears you mutter, “I remember.” You wait a beat. “Do you trust me?” 

“Do I trust you?” He echoes, dread and disbelief coating his words. “I don’t even—”

“Just answer the question, Sunwoo. Do you?”

“I—” he studies the drop again, thinks and overthinks the newfound steadiness in your voice. Quietly, he mumbles, “yeah.”

“Then jump.” You tell him how exactly to do it as well, where to find the rope you packed and which hook is best to use. He does as you say, preparing for a jump he hasn’t decided to take yet. And once everything is prepared, the only thing that passes between you and Sunwoo on the intercom is silence. “Hey,” you mutter after a long while, something like a joke audible in your voice, “you jump; I jump, jack.”

“Except you aren’t jumping.”

“Technically, yes, that’s true but—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up.” Sunwoo inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting silence fill the intercom again. The silence, however, is interrupted the second he hears a group of voices travelling from somewhere down the hall. His eyes snap open.

“Sunwoo—”

“Fuck it.”

He jumps.

— 

“You’re bleeding.” Is the first thing Sunwoo hears when he walks through the motel room’s door, quickly followed by you rushing to him, tilting his head with a finger against his chin, and inspecting the cut above his eyebrow. 

“Yeah well your little jump stunt didn’t make for the smoothest of landings.” 

He means it as a joke. A bad one he realizes when you pull your hand away, eyes dropping from his face and guilt hanging over your head. “Sorry about that.” 

He shrugs. “It didn’t kill me.” 

“Come on,” you beckon, grabbing the first aid kit and heading to the bathroom, “I’ll help you bandage them.” 

Sunwoo sits on top of the closed toilet lid, folding up his pant leg to examine the gash running across his shin. The cut, he realizes, isn’t nearly as bad as it feels, but you make a small face at the sight of it anyways. It doesn’t take you very long to clean the cut on his leg, quickly finishing it while kneeling on the cold bathroom tile and asking him questions about the mission.

“No stitches?” He wonders when you pat a bandage in place.

You shake your head. “You should be fine. Nothing more than a gloried scrape really.” You add teasingly while rearranging the objects in the first aid kit. And when you laugh at the look he gives you for the comment, Sunwoo does his best to ignore the fluttering that appears in his gut at the sound. 

You move on from the cut on his leg, placing the first aid kid on top of the counter and poking the bruise that’s forming above his knee before getting up yourself. He smacks your hand away.

“How’d you know about my fear of heights by the way?”

“You told me one night in Vienna.” You answer, tearing open an alcohol wipe packet. “Do you not remember?”

He shakes his head.

Frowning, you let out a small, “oh.”

Neither of you say anything after that. And Sunwoo’s so focused on the frown that’s yet to leave your face that he barely registers the way you lean towards him for better access, propping your knee on top of the toilet and between his legs for balance. Although he does notice the warmth that radiates off your body. And a minute after that, he notices how much longer it takes you to clean this, smaller cut than it took to clean the one on his leg.

“Sorry.” You quickly apologize when you press against the cut too harshly. Sunwoo waves you off. “I am sorry though.” You repeat, seriously, lips still turned down in a frown and brows knit together.

“It’s really fine.” He chuckles, amused by the amount of gravity in the apology. 

“No. For Vienna.” The amusement dies in the back of his throat. “I never apologized for…” you falter there, fingers paused against his forehead, “for that. But I am sorry.”

“It was your mission.” Sunwoo gulps. “You were being a good agent.”

“And a shitty person.” You say, no hint of a joke laced in the statement. “In fact, the mission was just to observe you. Make sure you didn’t find out anything too important about Pegasus. Meeting you was mostly on accident. And everything that followed,” you bite your lip, and Sunwoo can’t tell if you’re biting back a smile or a frown, “all those other parts just sort of came naturally.”

The flame in his chest from before bursts into a bonfire, filling his lungs with a hopeful smoke. “Naturally?” He echoes.

“Yeah,” you repeat, tongue darting out in concentration while you complete the last step of smoothing out the bandage. You don’t lean away when you finish. You don’t remove your knee from between his legs. Don’t pull away the hand you have holding back his hair or the one resting against the side of his face. Nothing but your eyes move, trailing down until they find his, visibly gulping, then wandering further below. “Naturally.”

And the word is like a spell, lifting his chin and drawing him towards you until his lips are brushing against yours. It’s barely a kiss, a small hesitant press of lips that lasts no longer than a second, but one that has Sunwoo’s heart pounding wildly in a way it never did three months ago. He pauses there, lips unmoving and hovering just below yours, waiting for you.

You don’t move. Neither leaning in nor away. His gaze flickers up to your eyes, finds them half open, focused on the upper curve of his lip. He captures your lips between his again, a second attempt that is met with response when you lean into it, inhaling him in for a tiny blissful moment and exhaling him out in the next, pushing him back by the shoulders and stepping away yourself.

“I should…”

“Fuck.”

“I should go.”

And you’re gone before he can say anything else. 

// 

The kiss is ignored by both of you while prepping for the second half of the mission. A silent agreement to act like it never even happened and another one to not discuss whatever misplaced feelings led to it. It’s almost sickening how easily you and Sunwoo fall back into being just partners. Especially considering the fact that Sunwoo’s feelings haven’t faded, the bonfire in his chest still burning with the same brightness. So Sunwoo spends his days with you, attempting to put out the fire between his lungs, and he spends his nights alone, replaying the kiss you both pretend to ignore.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” You mutter on the last night, a trail of anxiousness slipping off your tongue. “And then we’ll be done.” 

Sunwoo only nods, watching how your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and mulling over whether you mean done with the mission or done with him.

--

The Pegasus mission doesn’t go nearly as smoothly as the Creker one, complications toppling around Sunwoo from the moment he begins. They start small first: a locked door resulting in a change of entry and a janitor straggling in a hallway that should have been clear. He makes it to his first destination eventually, quickly shuffling through the room of file cabinets until he finds your physical files, slipping them into his bag, and heading to the next room with you whispering directions into his ear. The next room is empty when Sunwoo arrives. He works quick, bypassing the security system and fingers flying across to find your information.

“Faster.” He hears you mutter over the earpiece. A hasty reminder of what you had told him earlier that week: the room never stays empty for long.

“Got it.” He exhales, finally pinpointing your files and beginning the process of downloading and deleting them.

“Sunwoo,” he hears an elevator ding from somewhere outside the room at the same time he hears you, “someone’s coming.”

He doesn’t move. Keeping one eye on the closed door and the other on the still-pending status of your files. “I’m almost done.”

“If you leave now, they won’t see you.” Voices fill the hall. “But you have to leave now.”

“I’m not done yet.”

The voices move closer, louder. “It’s not worth it. Please, just go!”

He hears them behind the door. “It’s you.”

There’s a jingle of keys. “How will you—”

“Hey,” the door unlocks with a click, “you jump; I jump, right?”

“Sunwoo—”

He pulls the earpiece out at the exact moment that the door swings open.

-- 

The rooftop is obscenely pretty at this hour, with the golden sun partly hidden by a high-rise building but still growing in the distance, scattering its light across the sky, and casting a golden shadow on everything it touches. It’s a gorgeous sight, and yet, there’s no one but Sunwoo here to appreciate it.

“You’re okay.”

He whips around only to find you standing on the rooftop with him, body trembling and hands clasped over your mouth. Behind you, the door to the roof is still falling closed. Your eyes are red, dark circles hanging under them that make it look as if you haven’t slept days. Silently, Sunwoo wonders how he’s just now noticing your sudden restlessness, and a small part of him hopes—no prays that whatever’s chasing your sleep away is the same thing chasing his.

“I got it.” He says, pulling out the flash drive he stayed to retrieve. Your eyes never flicker off his. “How’d you find me?”

“How’d you get out?”

Neither of you answer. Instead, you begin to walk towards him, asking if he’s hurt with a voice that’s too soft and too concerned for Sunwoo to make out an answer. You ask it again.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in front of him. Close enough for Sunwoo to see the tears welled up in your eyes. “You’re okay.” You repeat, voice wavering with a sudden gust of wind.

“I am, but I—” he hesitates; you take a step towards him, “I miss you.” He succumbs to the fire in his chest; lets it fill his lungs, burn up his throat, and throw the sentence, “I just miss you so much,” out of his mouth without bothering to hide the crack in it.

He meets your eyes and finds a starling amount of clarity in them. “I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You laugh at that, nodding your head and stepping closer to him again. “I missed you before we ever met.”

He stares at you. For too long probably. Watches a smile grace your features, spreading like a fire. The flame feels familiar. And for the first time since seeing you after Vienna, Sunwoo doesn’t have to hold back the urge to ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He does. Lips crashing into yours, and you meeting the motion halfway, leaning into his lips, his body, him. A fervent want present in the way you pull at his neck and grab onto the collar of his shirt that would’ve probably been surprising if it wasn’t matched completely by him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and deepening the kiss for a second more.

You both pull away, just barely, faces still close and bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey,” you begin, breath hot against his lips and a knowing smirk appearing briefly, “was I worth the wait?”

And suddenly Sunwoo’s in Vienna again, sitting on a bench, and asking you the same question.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “you were.”

//

a/n: i apologize this request took me forever to get around too. and if the actual spy aspects to this fic make zero sense then my bad i was spit balling here. brownie points if u can find the scene inspired by queens gambit and the other scene inspired by the office lmao

[2dmenenthusiast]

I can't remember if I sent this to you already but could I request headcanons for aizawa, hizashi and Toshinori finding their s/o that has a chipmunk quirk that makes her fall into hibernation when it's too cold (kinda like tsu) but when the guys find her with her heart rate low and her breathing shallow maybe they freak a little bc she didn't tell them about that part of her quirk yet

omggggg this idea is literally so cute I got so excited when I first read it. Also thank you love for comin through with the requests, I really appreciate it! <3 I also hella struggled cuz like, what can someone with a chipmunk quirk do? Stuff their cheeks? Climb up trees? Also I legit forgot what a chipmunk even looked like I had to look it up lmaoooo im so dumb it hurts

Aizawa is an intimidating fella, okay

So when you first told him about your quirk, you were lowkey embarrassed?

Like, here’s this grown-ass man with a badass quirk who is more than capable of taking down villains and defending himself, and here you are just-

🐿️

But you know what’s great about this man? He couldn’t give less of a shit about your quirk or anything like that. He strikes me as the type to care more about personality than anything else

concealing your quirk is fairly easy. People probably wouldn’t even know you had one if it wasn’t for the small fluffy ears popping out of the top of your head, and even then you could just cover them with a hat

But that doesn’t mean you don’t experience the effects of your own quirk just because it’s subtle

You have a mutant type quirk, so you experience certain things that actual chipmunks do

Sometimes you won’t even notice that you’re stuffing your cheeks to full capacity with whatever you’re eating before Aizawa has to cut you off and just be like

“y/n. Chew.”

Or when you’re rushing, you’re usually going so fast that Aizawa can barely even see you zooming from room to room

you can also get kinda skittish at times, your ears twitching whenever you hear a noise that sounds weird or out of place, and you’ll just look at Aizawa with wide eyes until he checks out what made a noise that he could barely hear

“y/n, it was just some kids outside.”

“Oh... sorry, Sho.”

he wants to be frustrated, but he knows it’s not your fault. And honestly? He finds you so cute that he can’t really stay mad at you

So he’ll just let out a huff before patting your head lovingly, grazing his fingers over your ears (Which he KNOWS are sensitive, that asshole)

Experiencing long periods of deep sleep is also a thing. You wouldn’t call it hibernation cuz you still have to do normal, everyday things, but there are times during the winter where you’ll sleep for a few days in a row and only get up to go to the bathroom or eat

And since you can’t actually burrow into the floor of your home, you usually make a blanket fort in the corner of your bedroom and stuff all of the pillows and blankets you can in there until it’s nice and warm, ready for you to bury yourself in

and you might’ve left that little part of your quirk out when you moved in together. whoops

So when Shouta comes home and sees the living room couch void of all of its pillows, he’s not expecting to walk into your shared bedroom and see you curled up in a blanket fort

he’s a bit curious at first, just kinda looking at you like “All right, I guess this is normal?”

and he’ll crouch down and kinda examine you for a bit before he eventually wonders if you’re even breathing? You’re burried under blankets, so he can’t really see your chest moving

eventually he’ll check and see that your breathing is abnormally slow and he kinda just... pauses and checks again to make sure he’s not going crazy.

and he wont deny that he kinda freaks out at first, his immediate thought being that he needs to get you out of there, but the second he grabs the blankets to pull them off of you he’s like wait... hold up.

then it all clicks

you’re a mutant with a chipmunk quirk...

c h i p m u n k

safe to say he’s relieved, so he just lets you be and goes about his day. 

When you wake up a few hours later to go to the bathroom, you come out of the bedroom with your clothes practically on backwards, rubbing at your eyes and stumbling past Aizawa like he’s not even there. And when you’re done, it’s right back to sleep you go

“Back to bed?” Aizawa would ask as he watches you with an amused smirk on his face

“Mhm.”

“Okay. Goodnight, y/n”

“Mm’night.

Listen, when he first heard of your quirk, he thought it was the cutest shit ever

“Your quirk is Chipmunk?! That’s SOOOOOOOO CUUUUUUUTE!”

No he’s legit your number one hype man. If you think your quirk is lame, he’s literally shouting at you how cool he thinks you are.

“You can stuff so much food in your mouth, y/n! And that’s pretty dope if you ask me! I’m totally jealous!”

speaking of food, he’ll just randomly ask you to shove as much as you can of one thing in your cheeks until they’re at full capacity.

“Hey y/n, think you can shove this whole pack of jumbo marshmallows in your cheeks?”

“But... I just bought those :(”

“I’ll buy you more, LET’S DO THIS!!!”

also asks you the dumbest questions omg. You don’t know if he’s genuinely curious or if he’s just doing it to piss you off

“So do you just eat nuts all day?”

“You’ve seen me eat, Hizashi. No.”

“Do you prefer to sleep in trees?”

“That would be extremely uncomfortable.”

“Ooh you’d probably be great frieds with Kamui Woods then.”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

He also REALLY likes your ears. Like an unhealthy amount? Whenever you’re around he literally wont stop touching them and even tugs on them playfully until you’re swatting at his hands and telling him to go away

He can’t help that they’re so cute :(

so on a particuallry cold day in winter when he has to go to work at the school, he leaves your home while you’re sleeping, only to come home hours later to find you... still sleeping?

You haven’t moved an inch the entire time he’s been gone, so needless to say, he’s a litle concerned.

and when he checks to see if you’re still alive only to discover your heart rate is super slow, he’s A LOT concerned

His brain just goes to the most dramatic thing he can think of, which is that you’re in some weird coma and need to wake up

so rather than, i dont know, gently shaking you awake like a normal person, he grabs you buy your shoulders and starts shaking you violently while shouting your name loud as fuck

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

you literally wake up so violently, you sit right up and shove him off of you before asking what’s wrong with him, pretty sure you’ve officially gone deaf

He then explains that he thought you were in a coma or something cuz your heartbeat was so slow, and at that point you just roll your eyes because of course he would come up with this ridiculous conclusion

“Hizashi, my quirk is chipmunk and it’s a mutation quirk.”

He doesn’t even get what you’re getting at, just tilting his head in confusion as he squints at you.

“What do chipmunks do in the winter, babe?”

Cue more confused squinting

“Oh my god, they hibernate, you headass.”

it finally clicks and the look on his face makes it seem like he just learned the secret of the universe, and afterwards he’s going on about how cool that is while you just roll your eyes and lay back down to try and go back to sleep, bringing the blanket over your head to try and drown him out

He eventually gets the hint and leaves, but after a while, you kinda feel bad for blowing up on him. He was just concerned and didn’t fully understand your quirk

so letting out a huff, you pull the blanket down and call out his name, to which he immediately runs to you at the sound of, asking you what you need

you just wordlessly lift up the blanket to expose the empty side of the bed, and oh boy, the size of the grin he gets on his face is unmatched

immediately throws off his hero costume so that you can both be comfortable and jumps into bed with you, holding you impossibly close

you fall asleep in a matter of minutes while he just looks at you fondly, hand soothingly rubbing your back.

Just like the other two, he finds you incredibly cute. Like mans is in love, okay?

everytime he sees your little ears twitch, he just gets the strongest urge to touch them, but he never does without your consent becuase he knows how sensitive they are.

“Uh... y/n, do you mind if I... touched your ears?” 

Baby probably feels so awkward asking ugh PLEASE REASSURE HIM

“Oh? Yeah, of course, Toshi. Knock yourself out.”

oooh he’s excited. He’ll be super gentle about it, just lightly grazing them with his fingers before gently rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger

and at that point you’re littlerally melting, practically falling into him because him caressing your ears like this feels absolutely amazing

When he sees how it’s affecting you, he immediately becomes a blushing mess and apologizes, but you just hug him and tell him it’s okay and that you liked it

yeah he definitely rubs your ears whenever you’re feeling stressed or anxious because it’s become a quick way to relax you

only when he does it though. If anyone else randomly touches your ears, you get kinda uncomfortable

Just because they don’t look human doesn’t mean they still weren’t a part of you, dammit

Anyways, one day when you’re waiting for Toshi to come back home, you’ve got yourself wrapped up like a burrito in your blanket, sitting on the couch as you watched tv

it had been snowing all day, but luckily Toshinori had turned up the thermostat before he left, remembering how you mentioned that you’re not a huge fan of the cold

unfortunately for you, the harsh weather had no trouble taking out the power, leaving you in the dark and the cold

it didn’t take long for the cold to start seeping in through the cracks in the windows, and you quickly began to grow tired before you inevitibly passed out on the couch, still wrapped tightly in your blanket

When Toshi gets home and sees you on the couch, his first reaction is “aw, how cute.”

but then when he comes up to you and starts calling out your name to try and wake you up and you just won’t, and then he notices how much your breathing has slowed down, he quickly growns concerened.

He’s not in full panic mode yet, but he’s getting there, and he’s quick to crouch down to your level and grab your shoulders to start shaking you to wake you up

which you do, blinking groggily at him like you weren’t just in full hibernation mode

“Oh... Hey, Toshi,” you mumble, and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down so that you can nuzzle yourself into his warm chest

He’s not able to ask you about what happened to you before you’ve already fallen back asleep, and when the power comes back on a few minutes later, he does a quick google search on chipmunks and mutant quirks before putting two and two together

Now he’s thinking of all the ways he could make you something to burrow into during those especially cold winters

[myrandomfandomramblings]

The Beach - a The Rookie/Chenford Fanfic

“7-Adam-11, show us responding,” Jackson said over the radio as Lucy leaned back against her headrest defeatedly.

“I didn’t think I’d ever say this but I really don’t want to go to the beach.” “Like ever again,” she added even as she took the first turn towards their destination. 

LA was 4 days into a record heat wave and over that time Lucy had learnt a few important things 1) Unsurprisingly, extreme heat causes everyone to flock to the ocean. 2) It also makes people extremely irritable. 3) Lots of irritable people packed together in large groups leads to chaos and 4) wool uniforms are not ideal attire for patrolling beaches in temperatures around 100. 

So after 4 days she was over it. She had spent Monday with Jackson getting sworn at, honked at and nearly run over as they directed traffic at the busiest beaches in the city. She spent Tuesday with Tim breaking up beach brawls, confiscating contributing alcohol and watching bikini clad woman flirt with Tim. At least 8 different woman had asked him to rub sunscreen on them or suggested he take off his shirt to cool down. She had rolled her eyes so much she had given herself a headache. Although it may have been the sun. Yesterday, her and Nolan and responded to a report of a missing child who was feared drowned or kidnapped but turned out had followed the music of an ice cream truck four blocks and was found, about 30 minutes after the officers arrived, happily eating a fudgiscle. However, they were kept at the beach for the remainder of their shift by various citizens with complaints ranging from seagulls, wasps and possible sharks to thieves, streakers and possible melanoma. 

Now her and Jackson were headed back to a beach where the adjacent shrubbery was currently being consumed by a blazing bush fire, which was in all likelihood human caused and spreading fast. Therefore all hands were on deck as the LAPD worked with the LAFD to keep civilians safe, extinguish the fire and investigate its cause.

The rest of her shift passed in a blur as they interviewed witnesses, cordoned off the area, issued evacuation orders, ensured those who needed it got medical attention, joined a production line passing large buckets of water from the ocean to where the fire was burning and debriefed with their team which included Nolan and Tim, and Lopez and Harper. Luckily in the end, the fire was successfully extinguished, those living nearby were safe and happily back in their homes and the perpetrator, a cigarette butt flicker, was caught. But not until nearly 11pm by which time the entire team was exhausted, scorching and covered in soot and ash. With their job done the team of 6 headed away from the scene back along the beach to where they had parked their shops. They were right on the sand where they left them to create a barrier preventing people from wandering toward the fire and the beach around them was abandoned. Likely due to a combination of the late hour, the fire itself and the fact that the stretch of beach they were on was only accessible by walking about a mile from one of the main beaches on either side or by scrambling down the steep cliff behind them.

“Anybody want a cold one,” Nolan asked when they reached the vehicles, “well a hot one I guess” he amended as he pulled out a six pack he had confiscated earlier in the day from the trunk of his shop. Everybody made a face at the offer of hot beer but since the only light around came from the shops headlights shining in the opposite direction Nolan didn’t see them.

“Screw it, I’ll take one,” Angela said.

“Wesley and Patrice took the baby to meet the extended Evers clan so I have nowhere to be and now that I’m no longer breastfeeding I can have whatever I want. Even if that’s gross beer that’s been sitting in a hot car all day,” she explained.

“If we dig a hole near the water line it will fill with cold seawater and we can make a makeshift beer fridge,” Jackson suggested but Angela had already opened her can and was sipping away.

“I’ll help dig the hole,” Nyla offered. “I’d rather hangout here then go back to the station to do paperwork and Lila’s with her dad so I also have no where I have to be.”

“I’ll call Grey and tell him we’re clocking out and will do the paperwork in the morning,” Tim offered.

“Your staying?” Lucy asked a little too excitedly, “what about Kojo?” she quickly added.

“Tamara called several hours ago and offered to give him dinner, take him for a walk and put him to bed.”“She saw the fire on the news and rightly assumed we’d have our hands full,” he finished.

30 minutes later they all sat in the sand around their makeshift beer fridge. Shoes, socks and button up shirts discarded and pants pulled up to their knees. 3 flashlights were in the middle of the group, pointing skyward, their handles buried in the sand. They laughed as they went around and told stories.

“How is it still this hot?” Lucy asked a while later.  It was after midnight and the temperature had yet to even consider dropping below 90. 

She pulled her white t-shirt away from her skin fanning, herself. 

“I’m going swimming,” she declared ready to stand up.

“Your going swimming? Right Now? In that?” Tim asked gesturing to her cotton tee and woolen pants.

Lucy shook her head. “I was just going to go in my underwear but now that I think about it I don’t really want to have to drive back to the station in soaking wet underwear.”

Tim nodded as if this is what he expected but Lucy didn’t see him and continued.

“I guess I’ll just skinny dip,” she concluded.

Tim managed to both spit out and choke on the sip of beer he had just taken.

Everybody else’s faces were turned towards Tim and wearing amused expressions but they were saved his annoyance due to the limited light and the fact that his attention was still fully on Lucy.

“What?” She asked Tim, “It’s not a big deal. It’s dark. Plus everybody here has already seen me naked.” 

“Well except you,” she added, which earned another spit take from Tim.

Lucy rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. She loved seeing Tim flustered, especially when it was her doing.

“What?” He finally managed to ask in a strained voice after a few harsh coughs to clear his throat.

“Everybody here’s seen Lucy naked but you,” Lopez offered, “although that was bound to change sometime soon,” she added.

Lucy and Tim both turned to look at her wide eyed. Nolan and Nyla were both hiding smirks and Jackson wore an expression of mainly panic as he spoke.

“She’s drunk. She has no idea what she’s saying,” Jackson offered before turning to look daggers at Angela and whisper something in her ear.

Lucy thought she heard the words bet, interference and disqualified but she couldn’t be sure.

When he finished Angela addressed them again. “Sorry, apparently my tolerance took a nose dive since pre-pregnancy. I didn’t mean anything by that I got you mixed up with Smitty and what’s her face,” she finished waving her hand disparagingly.

“Hmm,” Lucy said clearly not buying her lame excuse but Tim still had his mind on other things.

“Why has everybody else here seen you naked?” he asked, his tone almost suspicious.

Lucy laughed. “Are you jealous?”

He fixed her with his best TO look. “No.”

Lucy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again and answered.

“Communal showers at work,” she began gesturing to Nyla and Angela. “Best friends and roommates” she added pointing to Jackson. “Life gets crazy. Sometimes closing doors or throwing on clothes just isn’t a priority,” she explained seeing Tim’s confused expression. “Also we had to help each other into and out of the bath after we were injured.” She didn’t have to specify her kidnapping or the beating Jackson took to take down Doug Stanton. This group knew. “It’s kind of ironic that when everything hurts all you want is a warm bath but when everything hurts it’s nearly impossible to get yourself into and out of a bathtub,” she finishes. “Oh and Nolan and I used to date.” She says it as almost an afterthought, super casual. But all the former TOs still look at her with shock.

“You and Nolan?” Nyla asks with a laugh. “Really?” “No offense,” she adds addressing Nolan.

“Ah, none taken?” Nolan replies, clearly confused by her reaction.

“When?” Lopez asks looking between the two P2s.

“For a couple months while we were in the academy. We called it off shortly after we started at Mid-Wilshire,” Nolan supplied.

“Wow, I just can’t picture it,” Angela continued shaking her head.

“Why would you want to picture it?” Tim spat. Then seemed to catch himself and schooled his scowl back into a blank expression.

“Why’d you call it off, anyway?” Angela asked. Half actually curious. Half just trying to do her friend a solid and take the attention off him.

“Bishop warned me that dating a fellow cop would brand me and could ruin my career,” Lucy answered and thought she saw Tim flinch. It was impossible to tell for sure with just the flashlights, nevertheless she added, “Somethings matter more-“ she was staring right at Tim now “-are worth the gossip, the assumptions, the risk.” As she said it she saw his expression change but she couldn’t read it. “But our relationship wasn’t one of those things. We’re better as friends, anyway,” she finished addressing the whole group but looking at Nolan specifically for confirmation.

“Agreed,” Nolan nodded holding up his beer.

“To friends,” Jackson said clicking his to Nolan’s.

“To friends,” everybody joined in clinking their cans together.

“So who’s coming skinny dipping with me?” Lucy asked as she started to make her way back to the vehicles where she could leave her clothes in a place where they’d stay sand free.

“I will,” said Angela, “pregnancy and caring for a baby really makes modesty go out the window. The two beers I’ve had don’t hurt either.” She began to follow Lucy to the cars.

“I’m in,” Jackson offered, “with you two practically glowing in the dark nobody will even notice me.” He teased as he got up to join them, earning a playful shove from Lucy.

“Nobody’s here to see anything anyway.” She retorted.

“Go ahead. I might join you later.” Nolan said and Nyla and Tim nodded in agreement.

10 minutes later. Lucy, Angela and Jackson’s clothes were inside Jackson and Lucy’s shop and they were out in the ocean. It dropped off quickly so they weren’t that far away from the beach even though the water came to just below Lucy’s shoulders. After four days of blazing heat and the fire on top today, the cool water felt like heaven to her. She dipped and dove through the water, relishing the cool and wiped at her face and hands to remove the soot that had coated them earlier. Beside her Angela was trying to show Jackson what her son does when they put him in the water. This led to reminiscing about childhood summers spent at the beach or in backyard and community pools. And before they knew it they were playing old games from those days. John and Nyla had joined them by this time. Claiming some combination of escaping the heat, joining the fun and more beer as the motivation. They were currently having breath holding contests.

“I win!” Jackson exclaimed as he came up for air to find everyone else already up.

“You cheated,” Lucy argued, “I saw you come up while I was still under. I had my eyes open.”

“I did not. Plus it’s pitch black under there you couldn’t possibly have seen anything.”

“Did Jackson come up?” Lucy yelled at Tim who was still sitting on the shore.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t watching,” he replied casually with a slight shrug.

“Yes you were,” Angela argued, “you haven’t taken your eyes off Lucy since she got in here,” then realizing what she said she quickly ducked back under the water. 

Everybody still above the surface froze.

Then after a beat. “So did he come up or not. I need to know if I won,” Nyla asked, all business.

“He floated to the surface but didn’t lift his head up. He won,” Tim offered defeatedly.

“Told you!” Jackson bragged.

“Rematch. 3,2,1 go,” shouted Nyla as everybody ducked back under the water. Lucy a split second behind everybody else as her attention was still on Tim. 

She came up about 30 seconds later just as a wave was passing by her and managed to swallow a good serving of water. She coughed and sputtered but before she knew it Jackson and Nolan were beside her and she was assuring them she was Ok just needed a bit of time to catch her breath. As she swam towards the shore to rest in the shallows she noticed Tim was just sitting back down and his pants were wet to just above the knee. But she didn’t let herself focus on it.

She swam to just in front of where he sat laying on her stomach on the ocean floor, head just above the water.

“You OK?” He asked shifting his eyes to her for the first time since she swam up.

“Ya fine, just swallowed a little water,” she assured him.

“Looks like you guys are having fun out there,” he nodded indicating the group still farther out.

“Ya the water feels amazing. You can’t honestly tell me that you aren’t hot.” She had meant it literally. He was sitting in above 90 degree weather with wool pants on. But then she realized he had taken off his white shirt and his muscled chest and stomach were currently on full display and the word took on an entirely different meaning. She was thankful for the darkness as it hid her blush but even that couldn’t hide the fact that she was definitely staring. 

“The ladies on the beach the other day will be so disappointed they’re missing this,” she teased gesturing to his bare upper half, hoping to give a probable explanation for the staring.

He gave a short laugh. “Not as disappointed as the meat bags who were wolf whistling at you will be that they’re missing that.” As he gestured at her he finally let himself actually take her in. Her hair was still up in its low work bun leaving her entire back exposed. The upper half of which was completely taken up by a tattoo, he had never seen before, although the light was too limited for him to make out the design. The rest of her body was hidden in shadows except her face which was now free of soot and make-up making her look young and vulnerable. Freckles brought out by the last few days of blazing sun were speckled across the bridge of her nose. Her mouth was twisted in thought and her eyes sparkled in the light of the flashlights. She really was beautiful.

While those thoughts flew through Tim’s mind Lucy was thinking about his comment about the wolf whistlers. That had happened at the very start of their shift and lasted no more than two seconds. Lucy wasn’t even sure they had been whistling at her and she had completely forgotten about it until Tim brought it up just now. Funny that he would remember. 

 They were both pulled out of their thoughts by a sudden commotion further out in the water:

“DID YOU NOT THERE IS NO PIE!”

“DO NOT THERE IS NO DIE!”

“DO OR DO NOT THERE IS NO TRY!”

Were being yelled over each other.

“What are they doing?” Tim asked looking at the group out in the water.

They were in a circle. Jackson had just given Nolan a high five then they were under again.

“I think they are playing the guess what I said under the water game,” Lucy chuckled.

Tim was about to reply but he was cut off by “How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood” being shouted in unison followed by bickering about who said it first.

“I’m going back out to join them. You going to come?” Lucy asked turning her attention from the group back to Tim.

“I don’t need to be a part of that.”

“Come on Tim. You’re hot and dirty.” She still meant it literally. Really. He was covered in soot. Stupid double entendres.

He raised is eyebrows.

“Just get in the water,” Lucy said splashing water at him to vent her frustration with how flustered she was getting.

He wiped the water from his face and a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine.”

Lucy beamed back at him as he stood up and walked back to the shop to discard his remaining clothes then turned her attention back to her friends.

“It’s not Angeles Direct, you’ve already guessed that three times,” Nyla was saying to Jackson

“That’s what it sounds like,” he argued “and it’s definitely closer to that than ‘embroidery period.’”

“That was my first guess. I heard wrong,” Nyla shot back.

“Oh ya cuz ‘and was dressed’ and ‘indoors divest’ were so much closer.”

Any further argument was cut-off by Nolan. “I’ve got it: Angela’s the best,” he said confidently.

“Yes and yes,” Angela confirmed.

“Your turn Nyla.” 

There was a brief silence as they all went back under the water followed by a flurry of screamed “this is stupid.”

“Happy now?” Came a quieter voice beside her and Lucy nearly jumped out of the water. She had been so wrapped up watching her friends she hadn’t even noticed that Tim had made his way back down the beach and was now sitting beside her in the water.

She smiled and nodded. “Aren’t you?”

He gave a non-committal shrug. “We’ll see after I get roped into whatever’s going on out there,” he offered but there was no bite to it. He was even smiling, although mostly with his eyes, as he looked at their friends.

“Well let’s go find out,” Lucy replied as she led the way into the deeper water.

As they approached the group they watched them go up and down and listened to their guesses.

“And further than game”

“Comforters at game”

“Temperatures endgame”

“Stanford is endgame”

“Checkers is a game.” “At least that’s a real sentence”

“Bradford has game?” “That can’t be right he most definitely doesn’t”

Then just as Tim and Lucy joined the group “Chenford is endgame!” Shouted by Angela who upon realizing Tim and Lucy had joined them turned to Jackson.

“This ones not on me it was your sentence.”

Jackson stood stunned for a second looking desperately between Tim, Lucy and Angela then swiftly closed his eyes and yelled “MARCO.”

There was a brief silence then Nolan yelled “POLO” and everyone was swimming away from Jackson at top speed. Everyone except Tim who was giving Lucy a look that said. “See what you got me into? I told you so.” 

But she was busy swimming off with the others, grateful for the distraction. So he rolled his eyes and joined the game. The water did feel amazing although he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

Calls of MARCO POLO and laughter filled the air as everybody took their turn being it: Jackson tagged Nolan who tagged Lucy who tagged Nyla who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Nolan who tagged Angela who tagged Jackson who tagged Tim who tagged Lucy. Well he meant to tag Lucy. He reached his arm out and jumped towards her “POLO” but she was closer than he thought and instead of the tips of his finger tagging her shoulder he jumped right into her. He hit her hard and she responded to being knocked off her feet and down into the water instinctively by reaching for the nearest thing to prevent drowning, which happened to be him. So when he opened his eyes her arms were around his neck and her legs around his hips and her face was only about an inch from his own as she coughed up water for the second time that day.

“Are you ok?” He asked moving a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

She nodded but continued to cough as he absentmindedly stroked her back.

 “You caught me by surprise,” she breathed “I didn’t know we were playing full contact Marco Polo.”

He let out a relieved laugh, “I’m sorry.”

“A real Tim Bradford apology I never thought I’d see it in person,” Lucy teased earning an eye roll from Tim. This close Lucy could see all the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dark. 

“It was an accident.”

“So it wasn’t some sort of Tim Test to see how I would handle a fight in the water?”

“No. You got your last Tim test a year ago when you stopped being my rookie.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year already,” she said. “Then again we’ve been through enough for an entire career,” she added as her hand reflexively moved from his neck where it was playing with his hair to the tattoo on her her ribs.

That’s when it dawned on her just how close her and Tim were, pressed together without a shred of clothing between them. She had felt so comfortable and content she hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and what it could lead to. She was about to put some space between them when his hand covered hers over the tattoo marking her supposed day of death. The day he saved her from being buried alive. Although he would say it marked the first day of the rest of her life. The day she saved herself. 

And the desire to move away died in an instant. 

“I kept it,” she said quietly, “because of what you said.” “Because it’s a reminder that I’m a survivor. And that my team will always have my back.”

Tim was looking at her with an expression more open than she’d ever seen. “I have one of those,” he replied softly lifting her hand up and moving it to rest on his lower left abdomen. She was confused at first but as she felt the skin beneath her finger tips she realized it was scarred. The scar from when he was shot on her second day and she pulled him out of the line of gunfire.

She smiled and looked directly into his eyes. 

“It’s a good thing we have each other in our lives,”

“Sure is,”

She was just about to lean in and close the distance between them when a voice interrupted.

“Hey you two. Keep it PG or get a room. This is a family outing.” It was Nyla.

Lucy laughed as she untangled her self from Tim and in that moment she realized two things. 1) this was most definitely her family and 2) she would very happily come back to the beach. Maybe next time she’d just bring Tim, maybe even as her boyfriend.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: F Boy (again)

Debut: Super Mario Land 2: Six Golden Coins

It feels so strange to look back on my very first post for this blog! It’s so... dry! Where’s the passion? Back then I really had no idea what I was doing and was just kind of imitating Mod Chikako hoping nobody would notice... but thanks to all the love this blog has received, I think I can write with a lot more confidence now! Not to get all sappy on the first paragraph, but I really appreciate everyone who reads this blog with all of my heart. And that includes You!

But if I’d known I’d spend several years using the moniker “Mod F Boy”, I probably would’ve put more thought into the name I picked, huh? I’m not even sure I’m a boy anymore! I just thought the name was funny and that was that! But given how indecisive I can be, maybe it’s a good thing it was so spontaneous... Like it or not though, I am more attached to the concept of “F Boy” then I was three and a half years ago, so it’s only fair I give F Boy the post he deserves and write a whole lot more about him! 

Believe it or not, F Boy is a fire enemy! A single flame with dot eyes, the classic design they’ve been using since Fire! I’ve expressed love for them in the past, but this little dude is a little different... it isn’t found in a lava or castle stage like you might expect, but the spoooky scaaary stages, AKA Pumpkin Zone! Why’s that?

Enter the hitodama! Literally using the characters for “human soul”, these ghostly wisps of fire from Japanese folklore are probably something you’re familiar with even if you don’t know it! The Litwick Pokémon line, the flames on Jibanyan’s tail, the little flames around the boy from the toilet anime, or even the Embers from Paper Mario... that’s really just a couple of specific examples off the top of my head, but they are in basically anything associated with Japanese ghosts! 

Though... all this time I’ve always called them hitodama, but I should probably specify they aren’t the only kind of ghostly fireballs! Onibi (demon fire) are often described similarly, and I’m not totally sure what the difference is! I suppose they would be more demonic hence the name, and probably less of a good idea to get close to. Also, if they're made by fox demons, they’re kitsunebi (fox fire)! Isn’t that neat! But there are no foxes to be found here, so F Boy definitely isn’t that (Unless it stands for Fox Boy...?).

However, you might be more familiar with the concept of will-o’-the-wisps, a similiar kind of legend from Europe- in fact, a whole number of cultures around the world have stories of ghostly lights and flames! There’s two explanations for this, either that it is a misunderstanding caused by some chemical reaction (boring, lame) or that hitodama are real and really exist for real (fun, exciting)! I encourage everyone to go outside with a net and catch as many as they can. 

Even though hitodama can be red or orange in some traditional accounts, they’re mostly described as blue and most modern media sticks with that! Which makes it quite weird that F Boy... isn’t! He is a rather fetching orange of course, and without the added context of spooky old Pumpkin Land you wouldn’t be mistaken for thinking he is a lava enemy that just got lost or something! 

Now, moving on to a completely different topic, something else that is great about F Boy is his little cheeks. Have you seen them? Here is the picture one more time in case you forgot after all that. He doesn’t have one in the sprite, so isn’t it quite weird to give a fireball enemy such distinct little cheeks? I want to squeeze them, even if they are probably intangible. 

And finally, we come to the part we’ve all been waiting for- the name! You were thinking it, I was thinking it, it’s probably the only reason I chose to write about him in the first place! Because F Boy is a funny name for an enemy! I think it’s just quite silly to describe a fireball as a “boy” in the first place, as a term of endearment. It is just a boy! A little guy! He’s not hurting anyone! 

But then they add to that name- one letter. That one letter, F. It changes everything. All of a sudden, there’s a question floating in the air- what, pray tell, does the F in F Boy stand for? 

If you’ve been following our blog for a while, you might remember we added an addendum to the original F Boy post, saying the mystery had finally been solved- the English version of the Super Mario Bros. Encyclopedia lists his name as Fireball Boy, which is a pretty definitive answer right?

But since then, it’s been more or less exposed that this translation took a bunch of unsourced and conjectural names from the Mario Wiki, leading to something of a controversy and a Mario Wiki page that is essentially just roasting the whole thing! If even the Wiki doesn’t accept this book as an official source, I wonder if there’s any merit to the name Fireball Boy at all! Either way it’s odd how this is the ONLY name they changed... do they know something we don’t? I dunno! 

My next evidence to present to the court is something that isn’t really related to F Boy at all! Rather, in Super Paper Mario, the Lava Bubble enemy has a tattle that reads the following:

It's a Lava Bubble. This fiery magma boy loves the heat... Max HP is 1 and Attack is 4. Obviously, it's quite immune to fire... It pops out from below when people approach, so take care when jumping over lava...

Fiery magma boy! The chances of this bit of text being intended as a reference are very very slim, but what if, you see? What if? It’s still a fun coincidence, but what if though??

But of course, my favourite possibility is that it isn’t a word related to fire at all and is actually something completely different! I looked up a list of adjectives beginning with F and I’d like to highlight ones I want F Boy to have. Fabulous! Friendly! Faithful. Fantastic. Fascinating! French? Fresh! Fun, and Funky! Faultless. Fetching. Feminist! Festive. Formidable. All these and more describe the complex soul that is F Boy. 

After all is said and done, that is F Boy! Who would’ve thought that a little monochrome fireball enemy from a Game Boy game could have kicked off so many months of writing for this blog? I said in the first paragraph that I would not get too sappy, but now we are in the last one I can be as sappy as I dang well please! This blog has brought me such incredible joy and friendship that you can’t even imagine, and my only hope is that I can convey these feelings to even one person who reads these silly posts. If you are reading this? I hope you have a wonderful day! I hope you have a wonderful life! I hope you never forget to be passionate about the things that really don’t matter at all, because no one else can decide for you what is worth caring about! Mwah! A kiss goodbye. I’m not sure how to end this post. 

[lunarxdaydream]

He held back a pleased noise as her legs tightened around him of their own accord. So affected that she would have instinctively closed them against his onslaught had he not been an obstacle kneeling in between them, and that thought alone exhilarated him. But no sounds from him for now, she would have to work if she wanted to pull any reactions she wanted, and Ven was determined to make her fall apart first. Teeth dug into the woman’s flesh one last time before he finally allowed hungry hands to push her skirt fully out of his way. Maybe it would have been easier to rid her of her skirt entirely, but he rather liked the image of her quivering in pleasure with it still on.

The fabric slid up to reveal the tantalizing image of silk that greeted him and sending his thoughts careening with all he wanted to do with her. A hand gripped her thigh to hike her leg over his shoulder so as to give him plenty of room to work.

He nearly cracked a joke comparing the action to a man tying a napkin around his neck as he prepared to dig into the feast laid out before him, but a joke that lame might just make Lucia put a stop to things altogether.

This might be what some people considered that “point of no return”, some line forever crossed in their pseudo-semi-professional relationship, but Ven didn’t consider it like that. His attraction to the woman had been made as clear as day since damn near the moment they first met, and she had teased him plenty in return. If anything, he frankly could hardly believe that she had actually allowed this to happen. She seemed like the type to rather do anything else than let him have this opportunity to indulge, even if it was something that she wanted too. But, he’d been wrong before, he guessed.

A finger finally slid against her, running in slow, broad strokes against her heat. “How does that feel?” The weight of his finger increased as he applied more pressure, his thumb focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves just beneath the single layer of cloth. “Go on, Lucia, tell me.”

( continuation )

The way his teeth dig into her flesh, toying along heightened nerves just like a violinist plucking each string with perfect crescendo. His eyes dance hunger and something else -- something darker she could not place her finger on. Anticipation spikes the moment he pushed the fabric upward for the final time; a chill left to brush against her despite the heat of his breath.

Part of her could hardly believe the sight. Nor the sensation coiling deep within as his palm directed her thigh to fall on the man's shoulder. Desire or not, there is no reason to indulge him. After all, what can he give her that she could not obtain elsewhere? Stopping him is simple. Lucia is certain he'll halt the moment she said so ... but the words refuse to come.

Only a breath parted her lips. Worn flush brightening as his finger pressed with methodical precision. "... Frustrating ...", is all she mustered. Teeth forcing themselves to bite on her inner cheek to halt the sound building in the back of her throat. Lucia fought the urge to seek him, and yet there is no hiding the response. No lie grand enough to make him ignore the effect of his teasing.

|| @arcxnumvitae ||

[gallavictorious]

Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It / Rewrite

Right, so fix-its aren’t so much my jam, but there is this one weird, weird, weird thing that I’ve (so far) been unable to meta into any sort of sense. Namely, Mickey looking like that in season 11 while apparently not working out. It’s just… uh… he… what? At one point I hypothesized that he’s been bitten by a radioactive spider or the like, leaving him magically super buff, and to be honest, that’s still the most reasonable explanation I can think of, soooo…

Today I'm back at my nonsense to bring you, everyone and especially our dear @gallavichthings, 2,711 Very Serious words about Mickey being a secret superhero. Well. Except for the hero bit.

Read it below or on AO3.

---

In Which Mickey Milkovich Does Not Save the World

Afterwards, he would always refer to it as the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell, but the truth is that Mickey never saw the thing that got him.

He was going about his business (namely poking around the Gallagher basement for any forgotten shit he could sell for beer money now that all the cash from the wedding had been surreptitiously replaced with I.O.U:s) when he felt a sudden, sharp pain just above his ankle. Cursing up a storm, he desperately waved his foot around and lost his balance and stumbled straight into one of the many piles of boxes that littered the basement. By the time he was back on his feet whatever creature that had dug its nasty little teeth/pincers/claws into his tender flesh had scurried off, leaving Mickey with a throbbing ache and a halfway impressive puncture wound on his left leg.

Muttering darkly about fucking Gallaghers being so used Frank they didn’t know how to keep goddamned monster vermin out of their shitty house Mickey limped up the stairs to pour some Jamison on the wound, and then pour some down his throat because he had the bottle out already so he might as well. He borrowed one of Franny’s colourful pirate-patterned band-aids, and when his nosy as fuck ex-EMT of a husband asked about it later that evening Mickey said he’d dropped a can on his foot, it’s just a scratch, man, no you don’t need to take a look at it, just put your fingers back in my ass, please.

Mickey didn’t make a habit of lying to Ian, but he figured that telling the truth would lead to all sorts of questions about why he was in the basement and having to come up with plausible explanation for that when he should just be focusing on getting railed wasn’t part of his plans for the evening. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Ian, who’d been getting so worked up over money lately, to distract him with that sort of unimportant stuff while they were banging. Mickey was a considerate spouse.

Thankfully, Ian dropped the subject and proceeded to do his husbandly duty. Mickey went to sleep deeply satisfied.

He was almost as satisfied the next morning when he woke up to realize that the pain in his leg was gone, as were all traces of the wound itself. Mickey had always healed pretty fast, but this was quick enough to have him questioning whether or not he’d really been bitten/stung/whatever at all. Maybe he’d had more beers than he thought and imagined the whole thing… ?

It didn’t really matter, and if that had been the whole of it Mickey was likely to soon have forgotten all about the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell. However, in the next few weeks he started noticing stuff, weird stuff. For instance, it wasn’t just the (possibly imagined) bite/sting that healed far more quickly than normal; it was all the little cuts and scrapes he tended to acquire. A big bruise from running into the table while playing with Franny; faded to nothing the next morning. A cut from the razor; gone within the hour. For the first time he could remember, Mickey looked at his naked body in the mirror and saw not one single wound (though there were still scars aplenty). It wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but it was weird.

Then there was that thing with his muscles. Mickey had been in decent shape for most of his life and whenever he got locked up for extended periods of time he made a habit of hitting the gym on the regular. Really wasn’t much else to do in the joint, and having a decent bulk reminded the other inmates that you weren’t someone they could push around; letting people know that you could beat the shit out of them often meant you didn’t have to actually do it, which saved everyone a lot of time and energy and trips to the prison quack. But on the outside, exercise wasn’t very high on Mickey’s list of priorities, meaning he tended to slim down a bit after a while in freedom.

Not now, though. Almost a year after being out of prison, and he was still as built as ever; if anything he seemed to be developing more muscles, in spite rarely engaging in anything more taxing than vigorous fucking. (Okay, so there was a lot of vigorous fucking, but still. If anyone ought to be building their biceps from the sex they were having, it should be Ian.)

Mickey didn’t mind being inexplicably ripped, though. He felt great, looked great – and Ian seemed to be pretty into it, too. Then again, Ian seemed to be pretty into Mickey whether he wore dirty clothes, sported a beard, sported a dress, or hadn’t showered in a week, so maybe that wasn’t saying a lot.

But even given all that, maybe Mickey still wouldn’t have thought too much about it (he was, after all, very busy being on his honeymoon, which required lots of determined sleep-ins, dedicated beer-drinking, and – obviously – lots and lots of banging) if there hadn’t one day come a knock on the front door. At first he ignored itm in the hopes that someone else would get it, but when it became apparent that a, he was alone in the house, and b, whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up anytime soon, he grabbed the family baseball bat (even big soft ass Larry would react to Mickey opening the door with an extremely illegal gun in hand) and went to answer the insistent knocking.

Outside stood two women, looking an unsettling mix of sober and apprehensive and eager. One of them reminded him vaguely of Angie Zago; the other was taller and darker and quite possibly brooding.

“Can I help you?” he demanded, not quite as rudely as he might have. He didn’t think they were social workers, but one never knew; they’d been checking up on Debbie and Franny ever since Debbie pleaded guilty to statutory rape.

“Mr. Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich?” Not-Angie inquired in a polite sort of tremble. 

“Who’s asking?” Mickey demanded, feeling a little thrown by the use of his full name. The only people who pulled that out was law enforcement, and neither of these ladies had that feel about them. Especially since they seemed to be… excited to meet him, which wasn’t a reaction Mickey was used to getting. Particularly not from ladies looking like they ought to be out collecting for the fucking Red Cross.

They better not be asking for donations for the Red Cross.

“I’m Tania and this is Dreamweaver,” Not-Angie said. “Can we come in? It’s really best if we talk in private.”

Mickey didn’t move. “Dreamweaver? You kick your mama too many times in the kidneys before you were born or something?”

The women glanced uncertainly at each other. “Mr. Milkovich,” the one improbably called Dreamweaver began, but Mickey cut her off:

“You with the police?”

They quickly shook their heads. “No, we— “

“You here to give me money?”

“No, you see, it’s— “

“Okay, thank you, bye.” But as he moved to close the door, Tania – displaying more spunk than he’d have given her credit for – took a step forward and blocked the entrance.

“Have you been experiencing any strange body phenomena lately, Mr. Milkovich?” she blurted. “Wounds healing very quickly, perhaps, or increased muscle mass?”

Mickey stilled, eyes darting between the two women. Small, small smiles on their faces now, as if they knew they had him. There was a hint of hunger to those smiles, making Mickey feel uncharacteristically uncomfortable. The urge to push Tania back and slam the door shut was strong, but…

“Fine,” he said at long last. “Come on in.”

They better not be fucking cannibals either.

---

They called themselves The Guardians, and they wanted him to save the world.

Mickey asked what numbers they were talking and, after getting bored of their uncomprehending stares, clarified: “How much is it gonna pay? What’s my cut?”

Dreamweaver frowned. “You mean… money? As in a… salary?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s my salary?”

“Mr. Milkovich, saving the world is a higher calling and a duty, it’s not something that– “

“Uh-huh. So, just to be clear, you’re not gonna pay me?”

They weren’t. Mickey laughed in their faces, stood from the couch, and told them bye and good luck with that and don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.

They reasoned with him. They pleaded. They explained, again and again, that after the evil society USCH destroyed The Guardian’s headquarters in a devastating attack, the two of them–and Mickey–was the only thing standing between the world and utter destruction. Surely, he must understand that it was nothing less than Fate that had brought the one remaining Bestower Bot into the Gallagher basement and his path? Admittedly, injecting Mickey with the bio enhancer might have been the result of a malfunction – Tania and Dreamweaver had found the bot dead down the street a couple of nights ago – but didn’t he see that he had been called to serve as a warrior in the fight against evil?

“Yeah, no thanks,” Mickey told them, and then he picked up the bat and waved it around until they took the hint and left.

When Ian returned home a few hours later, Mickey carefully didn’t mention the curious visit or any of what Tania and Dreamweaver had told him. Ian was pretty into saving people and had all these lame ideas about service and honor, and Mickey found it more likely than not that his husband would both be upset that Mickey, rather than Ian himself, had been called as a warrior (it’d be Lip and West Point all over again, Mickey just knew it), and demand that Mickey answer the call and run off like some loon to get himself killed by evil technomancers.

Mickey didn’t particularly feel like dying and he didn’t like the idea of hurting his husband’s feelings either, so he kept his mouth shut and skillfully derailed all of Ian’s attempts at asking about his day by giving him a blow job, teasing him about being a grunt, and allowing himself to be wrestled to the floor when Ian decided he’d had enough of teasing. It was a good evening.

As he lay in bed that night, back against Ian’s chest and with those strong arms wrapped around him, Mickey wondered if it would be worth risking Ian’s reaction by going public. Okay, Tania and Dreamweaver had mentioned how he’d probably gotten a pretty small dose of the bio-whatever-the-fuck, lending him nothing more exciting than enduring muscle mass and enhanced healing, but that should probably be enough to turn him into a cut above the rest, right? He could hire himself out to the highest bidder and make a fortune doing private security or collections or stuff like that. Fuck, he’d even consider taking on jobs for The Guardians, if they just agreed to pay him.

It was a fun thought to play with, but in the end a long life in the shadows made Mickey wary of putting himself out there like that. Besides, he’d seen enough movies to know that it’d probably wouldn’t be long before he mysteriously disappeared to some secret government facility to be experimented on. He’d had enough of the state’s hospitality to last him a lifetime, so thanks, but no fucking thanks.

And that could have been it. Should have been it, but of course Tania and Dreamweaver wouldn’t leave well enough alone. They started showing up at the Gallagher house at all hours, whenever they knew they could get Mickey alone. They accosted him on the way to the Alibi, they sat down next to him on the L, and they left him pictures of puppies with little notes saying stuff like “Only YOU can SAVE him from BURNING. Have a HEART”.

It was exhausting. Fearing the retribution of the cartel hadn’t anything on fearing seeing Tania and Dreamweaver’s disappointed-yet-still-somehow-hopeful-and-terribly-determined faces appear in a crowd, or round a corner, or on the porch when he went out for his evening smoke.

Mickey began to lose sleep. He’d spend the nights tossing and turning, which led to him staying in bed half the day to catch up on much needed rest, and he was often so tired he couldn’t bring himself to put on proper clothes or go outside the door the whole day. 

Ian was on his ass about getting a job; he didn’t get that Mickey had a job, and that job was not getting lured into sacrificing his life for the greater good. If Ian didn’t like the prospects of being a prison widow, how offensive wouldn’t he find the prospect of being an actual widower, after his husband got blown to bits by some big bad villain?

It got to the point of Ian initiating a sex strike to force Mickey to get “a real job”, which struck Mickey as really fucking unfair, considering how all he was trying to do was make sure Ian even had a husband to refuse to fuck.

Enough was enough. Something had to be done. Fortunately for Mickey – and unfortunately for Tania and Dreamweaver – Mickey had a guy for everything. As annoying as The Guardians were, Mickey didn’t have the heart to see them killed, but he figured that having them kidnapped and shipped off to some sweatshop on the other side of the world would serve the same purpose. He felt a little bad about it, sure, but he had given them plenty of chances to fuck off. Not his fault they couldn’t respect a fucking boundary.

Mickey called Johnny, told him the score, and a few night later Johnny called Mickey to tell him it was done.

It was done. Over. Mickey would finally be able go about his life in peace again, giving all his attention to his husband and doing his outmost to make him the happiest man alive every single day, even when Ian was annoying as hell and started asking pointless fucking questions about how Mickey was in such great shape even though he never did as much as one single curl up.

I see. So… you’re telling me that you have secret superpowers.

Yeah. Except, not actually secret anymore. ‘Cause, you know, you told me we shouldn’t have secrets.

… yeah, that was three months ago.

Guess it must have slipped my mind, huh.

Must have. But let me get this straight: you couldn’t get a real job because you were busy dodging secret agents, and your muscles are the result of you getting bitten by some magic robot—

Radioactive motherfucker bug from hell.

—and not you sneaking down to the basement to do weights and cardio almost every day?

… oh.

Yeah, oh. Carl told me about it, asshole. He noticed you using some of the stuff down there. Don’t get why you’d wanna keep that a secret though?

…

Mick. We have to be honest with each other, remember?

Jesus Christ, I don’t know, okay? I don’t know.

Okay.

Guess the first time was back when you had that dip a couple of months after the wedding. Few times after that, if we had a fight or whatever and I needed to let off some steam. Then you started working and sometimes I got bored watching TV all day but you were all mopey about your shitty job and me not having any and you have this thing about your body—

I don’t have a thing about my body.

­—so I didn’t really wanna rub your face in me having all that time to work out when you could barely squeeze in dozen push-ups in the evening. And I guess I didn’t really want anyone to know that I… cared, or whatever.

Cared? About what? Being healthy? Looking good? Being strong?

Whatever, man, I told I don’t fucking know. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause it was a radioactive motherfucker bug from hell that did it.

Of course it was. Come here. Show me what that bio enhanced body of yours can do.

---

Ahahahahahaha, would you look at that. I tried to meta it anyway. 😭😭😭

You might reasonably ask about Mickey’s visit to Kev Fit – how does that fit? WELL, I rather imagine that whatever Mickey does in that basement is enough to keep him fit but still not SUPER hardcore? So when he starts worrying about Ian thinking him weaker than, he decides to take it up a notch and do it properly in a real(ish) gym? And his comment about “not remembering how much working out sucks” is part of the whole “not wanting anyone to know this is something I care to do on the regular”… Yeah, it’s pretty weak. All in all, I’d say the radioactive motherfucker bug from hell is still our best bet. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is probably the last time I have one of them tell the other a story this week, but I make no promises. These little ficlets don’t tend to go as planned. (Ha! She said, as if there was a plan to begin with. Oh, well. I guess it’s working out so far.)

[sup-hoes-its-me]

A Hero (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay so shinsou is such a cool character, kinda relatable tbh, so here we go. Friends to lovers, lots of fluff, cuteness. It took a lot of strength to take a break from writing my fav bakugo lol.

tw: you almost get assaulted

word count: 4400

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

So technically, Y/N wasn’t related to the Bakugos at all. She was the orphaned child of a family friend, who died a horrific hero’s death when she was only a couple years old. Without any other relatives in the area to adopt her, Y/N’s mother’s best friend took in the two year old, despite the trouble of raising two toddlers being quite daunting. Yet, her quirk wasn’t very dangerous nor special like Katsuki, so she wasn’t hard to manage in that area. Just a shy little girl, confused at the transition after the loss of her parents.

Y/N was never very strong willed like her new family. She was passive, the perfect representation of type B personality. Dependent, reliant, and fearful of adversity. The only reason she was never mercilessly bullied in her primary days was a result of her “brother’s” unrelenting defensiveness. He was an asshole, very much so, but he never let anyone pick fun at the girl. Not only did he kinda, sorta love her unconditionally as a silbing should, but his mother would murder him for not standing up for her.

But when they both got into U.A, suddenly the two weren’t equals anymore, nor would he always be by her side to watch out for her. Y/N was left behind in class C, while he soared into the top hero course. Y/N was support for the soon-to-be pros, not that she minded. The girl knew how weak she was, and unless she had a change of heart and decided to work harder on her quirk, she would never be able to succeed. She wasn’t motivated like those in Class A. Y/N never wanted the responsibility of being so good people relied on her, civilians putting all their faith into her. It was nerve wracking.

On the first day of class, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and walked to class with her brother. He carried both their bags, one on each shoulder, eyes staring straight ahead, brows furrowed with irritation as per usual. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, wandering slowly next to him, head hung. 

She was scared, admittedly. This school was huge and so prestigious. How could she ever compare to the others there? It was impossible.

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Katsuki-”

“You’re gonna be fine, and you know it. You’re more powerful than those losers anyway, if only you tried,” he grunted, turning the corner to see dozens of other students in their uniforms walking around and entering the school. She bit her lip and sighed, wringing her fingers out of nervousness. “Seriously, don’t make yourself out to be a weakling. People will target you if you do.”

She paused, not taking another step as she confessed, “I know what I should do, it’s just putting that ideal into practice that gets me everytime.” 

Time was running close to class starting, and he rolled his eyes down to her slightly quivering form. Handing her her bag, he told her calmly, “Listen, if anyone bothers you, I’m two doors down anyway. Just call me right after class if something happens, got it?” With a nod, he patted her on the head and walked away to the main entrance. 

Her eyes drew up the high building, taking in all the shiny windows and the huge shape of an H made out of the numerous floors. This place was bigger than she had ever imagined, and that only scared her more. Yeah, it was bigger because it housed a lot of students who needed room to exercise their quirks, plus they were a very wealthy institution. 

She had to tell herself that just because the building was scary certainly did not mean that the people inside were just as bad.

So she held her head a bit higher and walked through the crowds of students. She tried to remember where the counselor told her her classroom was, so she didn’t embarrass herself by getting lost on her first day. 

Yet, that was exactly what she did. The school was just too big, and she was too anxious about her first day to think properly. So, with tears gathering in her eyes, she watched at the time ticked by on the clock. Her nightmares were filled with this scenario. Showing up late on her first day and everyone in the class laughing at her. 

“Are you lost?” a voice deep and smooth spoke up behind her, and she jumped a couple inches in the air, placing a hand over her heart after it started to rapidly beat with shock.

She turned her head, brushing her loose hairs from her eyes. He stared down at her with an almost bored expression, just as his voice had sounded. He was tall, and very purple. Dark undereyes, wild violet hair in every direction. She didn’t really know what to think of him other than he was unique, dare she even say attractive in a strange way. He looked older than her, probably 16 or 17 even, based off his height and old soul aura he radiated. One thing she did notice about him though, was he felt gentle, passive and even a bit dismissive. It wasn’t the least bit intimidating, and she relaxed. 

“Yeah…” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Class 1-C,” he hummed, beginning to walk forward again. She told him meekly that she was going to the same class, and he raised a brow. “Really? What’s your quirk?”

“My quirk is kinda lame.”

A small smile crept at the edge of his lip, her embarrassment and shy attitude amusing him. “And what would that be?”

“Well, it’s kinda weird so don’t make fun of it. I can um- well, my blood is highly basic and burns any skin issue it touches,” the girl mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned so much she felt like she had a fever. This is why she never liked to talk about her quirk. It was just plain absurd and kinda disgusting. Every time she used her quirk she had to slice her skin and sprinkle blood everywhere. “But, like, it does so much damage to me to lose blood that often I can rarely use my quirk.”

He nodded. “That’s definitely strange, you’re right,” he stated bluntly, and her heart stopped beating for a moment. “But useful. Really don’t know why you’d be embarrassed about it. Just because you don’t have endurance doesn’t mean strategy and technique can’t make up for that.”

Y/N caught up to him, walking at his side now although his strides were longer and harder to keep up with. She looked up to him, feeling a bit at ease seeing as he wasn’t rude about her quirk. “What’s your quirk?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his gruff voice sounding bitter and angry with his next words, “Something I’d rather not talk about. Don’t want you to spread rumors and lies about me.” 

She had never heard someone so visceral about their own quirk. It couldn’t be that terrible, not to mention she wasn’t rude like the people he must have encountered before. She felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this reaction was no doubt from prior experience being hurt. 

With a short shake of her head, she replied, “It’s okay, if you don’t tell me, but I wouldn’t judge you for your quirk, and definitely not gossip about it. I don’t have the social skills to do that kind of thing.” She laughed awkwardly. The bell rang overhead, signalling the beginning of the first period. They were officially late. “Oh, crap. We better hurry.”

“For what? We’re already late, doesn’t matter if it’s by a minute or ten.”

“I-I don’t know about that one.”

As they entered the stairwell to head up the stairs, he turned to her and paused, staring into her eyes deeply. She blinked, seeing so much purple looking in her direction. Quickly, she averted her gaze, and tucked her hands behind her back out of nervous habit. 

“I’ll tell you about my quirk if you promise me one thing.”

She opened her mouth to agree but then shook her head. Don’t just make promises to strangers, Y/N, so stupid. “Um, depends on the promise.”

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of her own averted ones. Waves of pain radiated from his form, hitting her square in the chest. “Just don’t call me a monster or shit like that.” And that was the moment she felt her entire heart crumble in her chest for this boy she had just met. He expected her to think of him like a monster for something as silly as his quirk? She wanted to cry for him, being as sensitive as she was. 

“I promise.”

He started walking up the stairs again, done with his intense observation of her face, except it felt to her like he was examining a portion of her soul, her compassion. It seems he saw something he liked in her. 

“My quirk is brainwashing, or mind control, if you want to call it that.”

Her eyes widened at the words, not believing that someone so powerful was right beside her, in the same class as her even. “Like, what do you do?’

“If a person verbally responds to me, I then have complete control over anything they do.”

“That is so sick,” she whispered under her breath, but he still heard her. His brows quirked up, and he gazed down at her.”Sorry, I just think that’s a really amazing quirk.” She smiled sheepishly, her eyes reaching his. He almost had to look away once he saw the sparkle of excitement and admiration in her gaze. Those emotions were directed towards him…

As they walked past a classroom, a loud voice called from inside the room. “Bakugo Y/N and Shinsou Hitoshi. I believe you’re late to my class.”

She rushed into the classroom in front of him and he followed. They conveniently were directed to the back of the classroom, two seats directly next to each other. She took a seat in hers and he slumped down in his, rolling his eyes at the glare the teacher had given him. 

He looked over at the girl beside him, who he now knew as Bakugo Y/N. She peeked over at him, and a small smile grew on her soft lips, the bit of sparkle still present in her gaze towards him. He smothered down the urge to smile back, just lifted the corner of his lip in return. 

Shinsou wasn’t exactly interested in making friends. He didn’t need them. This girl, though, he wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.

______________________________________

“So, uh, Y/N, do you need someone to walk you home?” Shinsou asked as they shuffled out of the nearly empty classroom save for a few stragglers. “Not that you aren’t capable of walking yourself home, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. And actually someone already walks home with me, so no.”

He cringed, feeling awkward now. He shouldn’t have been so forward with this impending friendship. They had just met, she probably didn’t want some weirdo knowing where she lived either. “Oh, gotcha.”

“In fact, there he is,” she smiled, waving to a particularly angry blond walking down the hall with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sagging pants. Shinsou cringed even harder at this point, not expecting her to already have a guy walking her home. She probably didn’t have much room for another good guy friend in her life, he thought, obviously overthinking things. “Katsuki! How was class?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Deku made a fool of himself as usual, but it wasn’t awful,” the boy replied as his eyes slid from his sister to the daunting guy beside her. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new friend, Shinsou. He helped me find the classroom this morning since we’re in the same class.” Katsuki blinked in surprise, definitely not expecting his shy little sister to already have made a friend. It took her years of middle school just to have a few close acquaintances. 

“I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me home soon,” Shinsou told the girl, even if he was lying. He could go home at any time he wanted, he just didn’t want to feel awkward anymore. This guy was obviously close to her, and was giving him the evil eye for a minute now. Possessive much?

“Wait, before you go, let me introduce you to my brother.”

“Brother?’ he asked aloud. They didn’t look alike, like, at all. Nor did their personalities seem to resemble each other in any way.

“This is my brother Katsuki. He’s a class 1-A hot shot.” A pang of relief turned his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.”

The blond rolled his eyes, gruffly brushing off the purple haired boy’s greeting.“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Y/N, are you ready to go?”

Y/N sighed, waving softly to Shinsou, a smile ever present on her lips when she looked at him. She mouthed as she walked away, ‘sorry’, and he just waved. 

Maybe he was a creep for watching her as she left, waiting for her to turn a corner before he let out a breath of air. All he knew was that he felt as if he was sucked in a trance. His heart felt heavy in his chest, as if it were about to explode. The feelings were so foreign but pleasant, some of the best he had ever experienced.

It just felt so good to see someone’s warm smile directed at him, not an ounce of malice behind a guise.

Yeah…He really, really liked her. 

_____________________________

The pair were friends. Honestly, Y/N was the only person you could get him to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that she was his friend. They trained together, and he assisted her a lot with her quirk. There were times when they were training alone and she lost too much blood that she would pass out and he would carry her to the infirmary. Time and time again though, teachers told him in private to monitor her. It was unhealthy to constantly lose pints of blood, and she wouldn’t be able to do it on the daily even if she wanted to. Since he and her brother were the only people she truly listened to and appreciated advice from, Shinsou recognized it as a sort of duty to take care of her.

Yet, with a bit more encouragement at the new school from dozens of teachers and other students, she actually improved on her quirk quite a lot. It wasn’t as if she had a useless quirk; it was very powerful in fact. She could burn directly through someone’s skin and the bone if enough blood was spilled. Therefore, the quirk could only be exercised in moderation.

For the first time in his life, someone actually trusted him. Not once did he consider using his quirk on her. Not only was she perfect on her own, but if he betrayed her trust like that, he might lose his closest friend. She was kind, but he wasn’t sure where her limits lied.

“Are you sure you’re okay walking home alone?” he asked his friend, who sat beside him packing up her books. Katsuki was out for the day with the flu, so she would be walking back home alone. He was kinda worried about her. She never walked by herself, always having the protection of her brother. 

But she was a strong girl. There was nothing to worry about. He had seen her fight and she was definitely capable. It was just overthinking that sent his anxiety through the roof.

“Yes, I’m totally fine,” she laughed, finding his concern humorous. “You live in the opposite direction. I’m not gonna make you walk me 20 blocks out of your way.”

Although he nodded in understanding, he definitely did not agree. He would walk all over the city for her if she needed him to. Still, when it came time to part ways on the sidewalk, they waved and went in opposite directions. It was only after five excruciatingly long minutes that the lanky boy turned and started walking in the direction of her home. Even though he shouldn’t have, and easily could have texted her, he wanted to make sure she made it home. He knew the general direction of her house, and if he walked moderately fast, he could catch up to her. 

So what if she didn’t want him walking an extra 30 minutes? If that made her annoyed, so be it.

Y/N walked slowly down the street as she usually did, her feet tapping lightly against the sidewalk. If she were being honest, she was a bit disappointed in herself for refusing Shinsou’s offer to walk her home. They would have a lot more time to talk in person before the weekend, and she never wanted to miss a beat with him. 

Maybe it was stupid of her to be so attached but she thought of him as her best friend, practically the only true one she ever had. Dozens of people came and went from her life, but this friendship felt so special. It would last a long time she thought, and hopefully she was right.

Unfortunately, she was too lost in her own dreamy thoughts to notice someone standing right at the edge of the alley she walked by in a particularly deserted area of town. A hand reached and snatched up her arm swiftly, yanking her into the darkness of the alley and covering her mouth with his other grimey hand before she could make a sound.

Her back hit the cold wall behind her, feeling the rough bricks scratch her shoulder blades through her uniform. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, burning from the harsh grip of the snatcher. Using his knee, he pinned her other hand to the wall at her side,  completely immobilizing her. She could have used her quirk, if she was able to produce some sort of blood-pouring injury, only she was trapped.

“Don’t fucking scream, you hear me?”

He removed his hand from her mouth for a moment to reach for his pocket, and as he did so, she let out the loudest scream she possibly could. Just as the sound came from her mouth, a cold object pressed against her throat and her heart stopped beating in her chest from sheer terror. 

To think she was a hero in training at U.A., and she couldn’t even defend herself from a quirkless criminal on the street. She felt like crying, feeling a knife against her throat, wrists held down. If only she was just a little smarter or a little stronger; anything to get her out his mess. The air was tense and heavy, and she could barely get a breath in without feeling the bitterness of the blade against her skin. 

She prayed, closing her eyes and letting the hot tears drip down her cheeks. If only someone would come and help. All Might was always there to help people, wasn’t he? Where was he? She couldn’t hope for her brother to back her up as he was sick at home, and she definitely couldn’t text Shinsou to come get her. Her phone was tucked safely in her backpack where she couldn’t dream of reaching.

God, she was hopeless. 

The thug opened his mouth to say something else no doubt cruel or vulgar, but just as the first syllable fell from his chapped lips, a shocked voice echoed down the alleyway.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened at the voice, relief running throughout her entire body. 

“Dumb punk, kid, just run off now.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to mess with-”

That reply was all it took for Shinsou to take control. The thug felt all control of his body lost in the air and a sort of tenseness to take over. “Drop the knife,” the student commanded, and the man indeed dropped the rusty knife to the ground, a metallic clang rang out in the darkness. “Now back away.” And so he did. 

Tha man sputtered, not knowing what was happening to his body or why he was doing these things. His face turned a bright shade of red and he threw a dirty glare at Shinsou Hitoshi, hating him with every sense of the word for making him look this pathetic. 

“Now stand still right there like the piece of shit you are. Move, and I will kill you,” he said calmly. Before turning to Y/N. “I’ll be right back with someone to help. I saw an officer go into the coffee shop across the street.” 

When he left, she inched away from the man, watching as he couldn’t do more than just stand there and look completely bewildered. A mind control quirk definitely wasn’t something you see everyday. Plus, he probably was facing the realization that he would be arrested and sent to jail to get his ass kicked by quirk users there.

He came back with a couple officers and pointed out the situation, explaining what he saw when he came to the alley. They asked Y/N for a quick statement and she just reaffirmed what Shinsou had told them and added how she was walking home alone and he grabbed her when no one was looking. And so they took him away, thanking the kids for helping catch the guy, who apparently had tried to assault and rob other women in the area recently.

That was a close call, the closest one she’d ever encountered actually. 

As they exited the alleyway, she felt sick to her stomach from what had happened, stress filling up her chest and threatening to burst out in the form of tears, only she composed herself the best she could to be strong. There really was no need to be strong. Shinsou was her friend. He was kind and brave and very intelligent, but most importantly he was kind to her. If she cried, he wouldn’t shame her. But she still felt the pressure to keep them from falling. “Shinsou-”

“I’m so glad I turned around to follow you. I swear, it’s almost like I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it,” he mumbled more to himself than her, really. He looked down at her finally, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. She looked terribly shaken up, but no tears were falling. “Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you or anything?”

“No, nothing else happened,” she told him. “I-I can’t believe you came to save me. I’m so grateful, I don’t even know what to say. I felt so helpless back there without my quirk at disposal.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re alright. That’s all I could really hope for.” He looked down the street and then back to her, flashing a weak grin. “You wouldn’t mind if I walked you home from here, would you?” he asked, to which she silently shook her head. So, he began walking and she followed very closely behind, so close that he could feel her arm brushing against his. He figured she was scared enough, a little bit of  friendly comfort was going to help her out. She obviously didn’t want to speak, too shocked to say anything much.

After a minute or two of walking, he felt her hand slip its way sneakily into his own, tightly grabbing on as if he was going to yank it away from her. Although he could feel how shaky her hand was, it was so warm and soft against his cold and rough hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his own. It was sappy of him to think, but jeez, it felt like those hands were meant to interlock. It just felt so fucking good. 

He shoved down those selfish feelings. Y/N was just attacked, and he was thinking about how he felt. He shook his head subconsciously, knowing that he was being rude. She was holding his hand because she desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable, not because it necessarily felt nice. She would probably hold the hand of any random dude that saved her like that. Jesus, Shinsou, so dumb. Get a damn grip, you sap.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but he hoped he was helping.

Her house was relatively close to the spot she was grabbed, so it was a short walk. Part of him wished it had been longer so he could have spent more time with her hand held in his. As they stopped at her doorstep, she dropped his hand and went to grab the strap of her bookbag anxiously, eyes hidden from his view. 

“Shinsou, thank you for stepping in back there. I really can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

With a wave of his hand absentmindedly, he brushed off her praise and thanks. “Don’t thank me. Anyone would have done the same, you know.” he didn’t feel like he deserves any thanks. He barely did shit back there except say a few words, and she was thanking him. Anyone would have done the same. He wasn’t special. He wouldn’t be special with the quirk he possessed. 

But god, the way she looked at him in that way, adoration and admiration staring into his eyes, completely entranced with him; it made him feel invincible, like he was on top of the world for a lifetime. He would never forget the shine in her beautiful e/c eyes in that moment, he swore it. That was a memory he’d hate to lose.

“I-I know- It’s just that…well…” Her words trailed off into silence before he felt her reach up abruptly to wrap her arms around his shoulders, falling to rest against him. He caught his balance last second, not expecting that of all things. Her head rested snuggly in the meet of his shoulder and neck, hot breath tickling his skin there. He tensed at the sudden embrace, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He could feel her shaking once again, and her rapid heartbeat pounded against his quickening one.

“Hitoshi,” she whispered, “You are my hero.”

Shivers ran down his spine at those simple five words, laced together by the most angelic voice he’d heard before.

That took his breath right from his lungs. He was her hero. A real hero. That was all he wanted in his life, to show people that he could be someone’s savior. The feeling of the one person he cared for more than anything saying those words to him. The feeling was unbelievable.

She pulled away after a silent moment, and waved to him gently, taking a step up to the entrance of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” she said sheepishly, feeling something weird herself after that hug. Her skin felt all warm and gooey, like she was going to fall apart at any moment or her knees would collapse beneath her.

“Y/N, if you need anything, you know you can call me night or day, I don’t care,” he called after her. “I swear, anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Shinsou-kun.” 

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

“You’ll call me sometime, right? So I can make sure you’re feeling better?”

“If you want.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll call.”

“Yeah, well, bye then.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

She shut the door finally, catching the eye of her brother immediately.

Katsuki stood in the living room of their home, sipping some soup with a spoon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He raised a brow when she peered over at him, obviously having seen what happened outside through the front window. “What was that about, Y/N? Care to explain why that boy was all over you?”

“Shut up, Katsuki.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes at her reply. “Hey, I’m just worried for you. You can’t trust teenage boys. Take it from me since I am one. ”His voice was quite hoarse from the sore throat he had that morning, and he sounded like a frog whenever he spoke. How could she possibly take him seriously? 

“He’s just my friend. You really don’t have to lecture me on anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, sure.”

She waved off how annoying he was, and walked down the hall to her room. When she shut the door behind her, she finally felt herself heat up with embarrassment. Shinsou Hitoshi held her hand the whole way home. He saved her like the glorious hero he always wanted to be. The feeling of relief she felt when she heard him enter the alleyway and call for her, it made her heart melt. She would definitely take up his offer and call him over the weekend, just to hear his soothing voice in her ear. Just hearing him, or even thinking about him made a smile grow on her cheeks. 

She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. If it was simply a friendship or if her attachments were growing into something more.

Y/N just really, really liked him.

_____________ 

 Part two coming later this week. Should it be angst or fluff? I’m torn

[sleeperswakewriting]

fire alarm

Thank you to @nicolanoodles for the prompt: “the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear AU”

AO3

Rating: G

Pairing: Levi x Petra

Petra groaned and rubbed her eyes as she slid into her slippers. Not again…She thought, throwing on her robe and grabbing her phone. She padded to her front door with not nearly as much haste as she probably should have, but she was tired. For the third time this week, her building’s fire alarm had gone off, and each time had been a false alarm. Something related to a new system, is what management told everyone, but it still didn’t make up for the fact that this was now the third night this week that she had woken up at 3 AM. By the time the firetrucks were called and the all clear was given, she barely fell back asleep before waking up at a prompt 5:30 AM to get ready for work. 

Her coworkers and students commented on her ragged appearance, which made her all the more frustrated since she was usually known for her sunny disposition, but even she had her limits, and she was someone who valued her sleep. It didn’t help that she recently moved into the building so she had nearly another year before her lease was up, and she was so sure that this apartment would be the perfect fit for her modest salary and being a single woman. 

Skirting down the stairs, Petra noticed her neighbors also lazily making their way back down, each of them with the same annoyed and dazed look. Petra knew most of the people on her floor, an elderly couple three doors down, a single mom and son across from her, and a young couple with an adorable Pomeranian that she often saw in the afternoons when she returned from work. There were a couple neighbors unaccounted for, and Petra assumed that their schedules never aligned, but she never had any noise complaints, which was the plus side to her floor. 

The summer breeze hit her as she made her way onto the grass, the moistness catching her fluffy slippers and she grumbled, wondering if the apartment complex would reimburse her for physical and emotional damage. If anything, her students will be suffering tomorrow since Ms. Ral had been at the end of her rope all week, and one more student on the red zone would take away Friday’s movie afternoon. Clearly, lack of sleep made her heartless, but at this point she didn’t care, she wanted to get back into her bed. 

Petra pulled up her Snapchat to show her friends that yet again, she would be in a bad mood all day. As she raised her phone to the apartment complex to snap a picture of the screeching disaster, she immediately noticed a man standing a few feet in front of her in his underwear. Well, his black boxer’s to be exact. He had flip flops on, and he wore a scowl equal to the people around him. His eyes focused in on her, and his grimace darkened. 

They made eye contact and Petra yelped, immediately turning around and slapping her phone to the side of her leg and out of sight. Oh my god, he must think I’m such a perv. Don’t turn around, Petra. Even if he is hot and has a six pack, you were not taking a picture of him in his underwear!

“Oi,” a man said, tapping her shoulder, and she went hot. 

Slowly turning around to meet her judgement, Petra went crimson as the man in the boxers stood in front of her. He was glaring (as he should, Petra thought) and pointed to her phone in her hand. He was only a few inches taller than her, maybe a just bit older too, with grey eyes and an undercut.  

“What the hell?” He asked, and Petra found it very hard to breathe. The last time she was this close to a near naked man was her ex-boyfriend, and that was someone she knew very well. This was a stranger! A very sexy, are-his-muscles-photoshopped stranger. 

Petra took a step back, squishing further into wet grass and she stuttered, “I-I wasn’t taking a picture of you. I was just taking a Snapchat to show my friends to complain. I would show you, but you know, Snapchat.” 

The main raised an eyebrow, not buying her story, and she groaned. “I promise I’m not a pervert. You’re really attractive, but I’m not the type to snap pictures of random guys.”

He raised his eyebrows even further, the annoyance disappearing and his expression softened to something closer to amusement. 

Realizing what she just said, hung over from lack of sleep, Petra clamped her mouth shut and took a deep sigh. 

“Let me start over. Hi, my name is Petra. I live in 34C.” She extended her hand, hoping to get into the stranger’s good graces before he reported her for harassment. 

The man shook her hand. “Levi. 34B.” 

God, could this day get any worse? He was her freaking neighbor too?! One of the nameless ones that apparently worked opposite hours. Feeling lightheaded, Petra released his hand and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

Seemingly uncomfortable with their silence, Levi coughed. “This shit sucks,” he said, pointing his thumb at the firetrucks that started to pour in. They were a good 100 feet away from the building, but the noise was enough to give her a headache. 

“Yeah,” Petra agreed lamely, her silk robe suddenly feeling too tight. 

“How long have you been living here?” He asked. 

“Just two months, I got a job in the area over the summer. You?”

“A year.”

“Oh, so are these things common? I’ve been meaning to ask around but I’m always so tired when they go off, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.” 

“Not really, but it’s still fucking annoying. Not like we have work or anything,” he mumbled sarcastically, running his fingers through his hair. 

Since the conversation had mellowed out and he didn’t seem as agitated at her, she allowed herself to peek at him, admiring his muscular features. Maybe he was a personal trainer? Or in the military? 

“I know, right? I have to deal with so many brats in the morning, this week has been killing me,” she commiserated. 

Levi seemed to smirk as she spoke, and she amended, “Not that I don’t like my students or anything! They can be a handful, but I usually really do like them when I’m not sleep deprived.” 

“You’re a teacher?” 

She nodded enthusiastically, “Third grade.”

“Wow,” he replied sincerely. “I couldn’t do that, too much noise.” 

“What do you do?” She asked, feeling braver. 

He crossed his arms, and Petra swallowed as the action highlighted his chest and biceps. “I’m a lawyer.” 

“Oh! Like defense attorney stuff?”

“Child welfare,” he replied, looking to the side, and Petra’s heart melted. Hot and chivalrous? She had to tell Nanaba about him later. 

“That’s amazing!” She said enthusiastically, nearly forgetting about his unclothed state, and she stepped closer to him. His eyes widened as the side of her robe brushed against his stomach, and she caught herself, giggling. 

“Aha, sorry!” She pulled the straps tighter against her. “Can I ask why you’re in your underwear?” Don’t look near his groin, Petra. Don’t try to guess how big—

“I was asleep,” Levi deadpanned, as if it were obvious. Petra looked around them, wondering if anyone else was in a similar state of disarray, but most people were in their robes or threw on a jacket to cover themselves up. Seemingly, as if Levi could read her mind, “I never know if one of these things are real or not, so I just gun for it. I guess I should know by now, but it’s a pretty knee jerk reaction.” 

“Do you want my robe?” She asked suddenly, feeling bad for him and maybe he was feeling self-conscious. 

“Hell no. I’d rather be like this than be caught dead in your pink lingerie.” 

Petra blushed furiously. “It is not lingerie! It’s a robe!” 

He nodded, and with a teasing lilt to his tone, “Sure. With a v-neck cut out to show off your cleavage. Just a robe.”

She looked down at herself for the first time since putting on the ensemble, and she grew hotter noticing the lacy and thin tank top she was wearing. It was obvious to anyone looking at her up close that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her sleep shorts cut off before her robe, making her look pants-less. 

“Do you want to sit in my car and make out until the trucks leave?” 

“W-What?!” Petra gaped, and she looked up to see Levi’s face lined in amusement, holding up his car keys. 

“I’m kidding. I was actually going to sit in there before I saw you taking a picture of me. We’ve already seen each other half naked, so it isn’t too weird to sit in a car together.” 

Not seeing how her night could get any more embarrassing, Petra nodded and found herself following Levi to his car in the adjacent lot. Maybe I should call out of work tomorrow…

“For the record, I definitely was not taking a photo of you.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, though.” He said, opening the door to his black sports car, and Petra’s heart thrummed in her chest, inhaling the leather. 

Maybe the fire alarm going off wasn’t so bad.