#my work failed to process my check which I should have received yesterday. I’m now expected to get it next week

[prozach27]

.

[jjacob]

all i want for christmas is you

❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)

GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !! 

SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju​ the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried

LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES. 

In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.

In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.

Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.

Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.

Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.

Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.

Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.

The school started to take notice of you.

Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.

“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”

Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”

Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.

“Thursday?”

“And that means?”

Right.

Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you��d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.

But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.

“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”

Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”

Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.

It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.

Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.

y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over

Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.

juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like

y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?

juyeon: sounds good to me

Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.

“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.

“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.

“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”

Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”

“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.

“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”

“I’m talking about the kink!”

Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.

Minho snickered. “You look happy.”

Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.

“Shut up, Minho.”

The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.

Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.

Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.

All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.

One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”

You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.

“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”

“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.

Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”

Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.

He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.

Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.

“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.

“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”

Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.

“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.

You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.

“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.

Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.

“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”

“See you then.”

Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.

“You’re blushing, dude.”

Juyeon shoved him.

There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.

The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.

minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today

minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me

minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house

juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(

Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.

“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”

“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”

“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”

Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.

“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.

You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.

“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”

Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.

“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”

“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”

Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.

“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”

“Right.”

Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.

He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.

That is, until his mom brought up the dance.

“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”

“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”

“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”

Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.

“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”

Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”

“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”

Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.

“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”

Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.

“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”

“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.

Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.

The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.

Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.

“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.

“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s true.”

“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”

Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”

“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”

“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”

“Good luck, champ!”

Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.

“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.

Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.

“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.

Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.

So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.

He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.

Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.

He did it.

Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”

“Oh shit.”

Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.

Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.

Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”

“Trust me, I nearly did.”

Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.

More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.

“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”

Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.

“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.

There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”

The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.

“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.

“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.

The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?

“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”

The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.

Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?

“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).

“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.

You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”

“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.

You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.

You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.

Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.

[tarteausuga]

Home for Christmas

CW: just pure fluff, really. As fluffy and as soft as snow but not as cold. Idol! Mark Lee x reader. Johnny's there too but just as support.

WC: 3.3K

Summary: in which you're alone for Christmas and Mark tries to give you a gift to make you feel less sad.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone. Happy holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas. I hope you're all happy, healthy and safe. I'll also be taking a break from TBTC next week and posting something for New year's ✌️

Long distance relationships were hard but they had their good sides as well as bad. One good thing is that you had a lot of time for yourself but on the bad side, you often felt lonely whenever you're out and see people with their significant others. You never really had to spend money on dates but conversely, you never had a chance to go out and show off your boyfriend in public. The time difference often made it hard for you to talk but neither of you ever missed out on your calls.

Mark would call you first thing in the morning when you woke up. It would be midnight to him but luckily, he was a night owl and didn't mind keeping you company while you got ready for your day. Then, you would go about your day before calling him at 5pm, 9am his time, to do the same for him. He often spent his mornings at home before heading to the studio for practice or to write so it was ample time to catch up and just talk about random things. He liked to watch you cook and he often would watch something in Netflix with you. Sometimes you were lucky enough to have him talk you to sleep, or sing you a song he's been working on to send you off into your dream world.

It sounds perfect in a way. You're both able to focus on your lives during the day because the other is safely asleep but you craved the physical aspects. You wanted to be held, you wanted to hold his hand, hell you just wanted to eat a meal with him sitting across from you at the table instead of on a little screen.

The past year and a half has been spent like this. You were childhood friends, growing up together before he moved overseas. You often spent recess running around together and sharing snacks. He wasn't necessarily your best friend, but he was one of the few friends you had growing up and even to this day. It's not that you weren't social but you just preferred being by yourself a lot. You kept in touch with the few friends you did have and that was all you really needed.

It was a surprise to run into him given the circumstances on both ends. He was an incredibly talented and relatively famous Idol in another country; and you moved across the country for school but ended up staying there after landing a good job. You were aware that he would be performing with his group but it wasn't your scene. And you couldn't get tickets anyway since they sold out almost instantly.

Out on your lunch break, you were grabbing a midday iced coffee. But you were trying to juggle setting up meetings and calls with a few important people so you weren't really paying attention when you went to grab the coffee, thinking it was yours.

"Oh I'm sorry." Both you and the owner of that drink said.

Finally, you looked up from your phone at the man and for some reason, you had a feeling of familiarity with him. After squinting your eyes and trying to go through your roledex of people you've encountered in your life, your brain finally figured it out. "Mark?" You say with bewilderment.

"Oh my god! It is you!" He pulled you into an extremely tight hug. "I saw you but I couldn't really tell and I didn't want to go up to a random stranger." He laughed and you couldn't help but do the same. Mark always had that effect on people, he would laugh or smile and no matter who he was with, they would do the same.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, somehow completely forgetting that he was due to perform the next day, which he reminded you of. "Oh! That's really exciting." If you were honest, you were distracted by how he's grown up. He used to be this cute boy that you would trade your fruit snacks for cookies with. But now he was incredibly handsome but still had those captivating eyes that could make you melt.

"This is amazing, I can't believe we ran into each other like this." He pulled you into another hug that brought a blush across your face. You were in a daze as he introduced you to the 2 other guys with him but you didn't really catch their names. You just noticed that they were also incredibly handsome. "But hey, if you're free tonight, we should catch up!" You agreed, thankfully.

And you could say the rest was history but beyond that one fateful day/night, you haven't seen Mark. A full year and a half later, you were entering your second Christmas without him but unfortunately, you weren't able to go home to your family to distract yourself from the boy you wanted to be with during the holidays. Not usually the type to be into overly romantic gestures, you uncharacteristically were craving the experiences that couples usually had in the movies. Your sisters told you countless times to stop watching Hallmark Christmas movies but you really couldn't help it when there was nothing else to watch on TV.

December 23rd. You were staring at your miniature Christmas tree that you had bought for your small apartment. The rest of your apartment was fully decorated in an effort to fill the emptiness you felt but it didn't seem to help much beyond wishing that Mark were there to experience it with you.

It was a perfect Christmas, the snow was falling outside and you reminisced about that rare snow day you had in your West coast town. That day was incredible. It was Christmas Eve and the whole city shut down due to the influx of white that they rarely had to deal with. Mark had banged on your door and begged your parents to let you go out and play despite it being Christmas Eve. That day was spent building snowmen, having snowball fights and everything before everyone went home and passed out to wake up to a white Christmas.

Mark had expressed to you that he missed that the most. Those snow days where everything shut down and you could just go out and be free to run around and have fun. You wished to be able to send some snow to him. But instead, you called him.

"Hi baby, how are you?" He said in a gravely voice as he had just woken up.

"I'm okay, just miss you a lot." You pouted and he copied your expression. "But look!" You showed him the view outside your window, including the snow capped trees and pillows of white on any surface it could cling on.

"Oh my god, that's beautiful." He sighed. "I wish I could be there to see it with you. I hate that you're alone this year for Christmas."

"It's okay." You flash a weak smile. "My coworker is going to drop off some food for me from her parents. I'll just have a Harry Potter marathon."

"Okay. I'll join you for that." He smiles. "My present for you should be showing up soon. I hope it gets there before the 25th."

"Hard to say. Doesn't matter if it does or not, I'm just happy to get something from you." You ease him of his worries. He often got worked up over the smallest things and you found it cute the way he would furrow his eyebrows in frustration only to breathe a sigh of relief when you told him to do so. You were his comfort and he was yours. Even if you were thousands of miles apart.

"I have to get going, love. I'll talk to you later okay?" He says and you are confused as he usually never has nice to do before noon. But you shrugged it off and assumed he just had some year end things to work on.

"Yeah I'll talk to you later. I love you." You blew him a kiss and he did the same before hanging up.

To be honest with yourself, you were starting to hate saying goodbye. Your heart would feel so heavy whenever a call ended and recently, that feeling got worse and worse with every call. Things were starting to feel like they were all for nothing. You trusted Mark and knew him well enough to know you were the only one that would be on his mind but that physical aspect was something you were craving. The simplest things like just being in the same room while you were both quietly working on your own things, exchanging loving glances every so often.

You dozed off watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and was woken up on Christmas Eve by the blinding white of the snow capped exteriors. Confused, you searched for your phone to check the time: 9:27. Mark has never failed to call you at 8AM every single day. It was your routine. It was your ritual. You send him a message but his phone doesn't even receive it. Is his phone off? You ask yourself. He did sound a bit off yesterday… Or was he just tired and groggy? Maybe he's having a late night in the studio. He said he didn't have anything scheduled for a few days though. In an effort to mitigate your panic, you throw your phone to the other side of your bed.

Forcing yourself to roll out of bed and make some coffee to try to dull some of the panic you were feeling. He wouldn't just ice me out on Christmas Eve. He's probably just tired and fell asleep before he could call, you convinced yourself.

It was nearing lunch time and you still didn't hear from your boyfriend. You had spent the morning curled up on the couch watching Disney Channel Original Christmas Movies, trying to distract yourself but every time something romantic happened, you sighed and wished for Mark. His phone still wasn't receiving your messages. Had his phone died?

In desperation, you text the only other person you knew who was close with him: Johnny. You had met Johnny that day that you ran into Mark but never processed it until you began watching their performances on YouTube. Mark had given you Johnny's number so you could apologize for ignoring him but you would occasionally ask him for favours. Usually asking him to get something for Mark from you. He often said, "I only do this because I love Mark and you love Mark."

You [11:34AM]: Hey Johnny? Are you awake?

You [11:34AM]: Merry Christmas, by the way!

It was almost 4AM so you would be surprised if he was still awake but he often stayed up late with Haechan so you figured it was worth a shot.

Johnny [11:39AM]: what's up?

Johnny [11:38AM]: Merry Christmas to you too :)

You [11:40AM]: is Mark okay? I haven't heard from him since last night. I'm getting worried.

You watched as Johnny's message bubble appeared and disappeared a few times. He was hesitating…

Johnny [11:42AM]: he's fine. You'll probably hear from him soon ;)

You [11:42AM]: ?? What's that supposed to mean?

Johnny simply replied with a shrug emoji and you wished you could send a punch through a text message. But you sighed and continued sipping on your hot apple cider as you pressed play on another movie. Johnny doesn't lie so I'll believe him for now.

You had somehow fallen asleep and you only realized when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. Without even checking the caller ID, you press the green answer button and put it on speaker as you tried to pull yourself out of the afternoon nap haze.

"Hello?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"Hey baby, sorry I've missed your messages. Johnny said you were worried about me?" Mark's voice shook you awake. You scrambled to sit up before picking up your phone and taking it off speaker to hear him more clearly.

"Mark? Are you okay?"

He simply laughed, "I'm okay babe. I'm sorry for worrying you." He apologized again.

"No, it's okay. I was just worrying over nothing. What were you doing?"

"I was at the airport." He said and you could tell there was something up by the tone of his voice. Mark could never lie to you even if he tried.

"And?"

"And I need you to come pick me up." He teased and you became even more confused which made you a bit upset as you didn't like being led on.

"Mark I can't, you're in another country." You roll your eyes even though he can't see.

"Baby, I'm not. I'm here." And it finally clicked in your head.

"Wait! You're here? Like here? Like in the same city?" You try not to scream.

"Yes, exactly. I wanted to surprise you better but the snow delayed things…"

"It's okay I'll come now!" You practically yell into the phone.

"Drive carefully!" He warned you before hanging up.

Like a tornado, you tried to clean up your apartment so your boyfriend didn't think you were a complete slob. At the same time, you were trying to pick out a cute outfit and do your hair in an effort to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

With your best effort, you shrugged when you checked yourself in the mirror before pulling on your parka and heading out the door. As your car warmed up, you reminded yourself that Mark had seen you at your literal worst. From the late night mental breakdowns to a hungover morning from having a few too many drinks with your coworkers, Mark had seen it all and always assured you that you looked amazing. Maybe he was lying a few times during those moments but he never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect for him.

You did your best to drive calmly to the airport. There wasn't much of a choice as the other cars on the road were also trying to get to their destinations safely so traffic was moving at a slower pace. After what seemed like the longest car ride you've ever taken, you pulled into a parking stall at the airport and checked your phone to see that Mark had sent you the gate he was at, waiting for his luggage. You practically sprinted across the parking lot and road, having a few close calls with other pedestrians and a few cars. But you couldn't help yourself. You were finally getting to see him.

Arriving at his gate, you tried to catch your breath as you scanned the crowd around the baggage carousel looking for Mark. When the two of you finally made eye contact, you burst through the crowd and jumped into his arms. You thought you would tackle him down but he was surprisingly strong and not only caught you but picked you up, allowing your legs to wrap around him like a koala baby. People aw'd and some even clapped while others pulled out their phones to candidly capture your reunion.

"You're here." You choked back tears, breathing in his scent and making sure you locked it up in your memory for future use.

"I'm here." He breathed into your ear which triggered the tears to start falling. He placed you back on your feet but steadied you in the warmth and safety of his arms. He chuckled while he wiped your tears away, "why are you crying?"

"I don't know, I just missed you so much." You sniffled while looking up at him with wet eyes. It's been so long that you had forgotten that he was taller than you by more than a few centimeters. So when he leaned down to kiss you, you were surprised but also extremely comforted as a wave of warmth filled up the emptiness in your heart.

"My little crybaby." He placed another kiss on your forehead.

You clung on to each other until his suitcase dropped down from the chute. Hand-in-hand, you led him to your car. Amazingly, you navigated the whole way there while beaming up at Mark the whole time. He reciprocated but occasionally pulled you to the side to avoid running into someone else.

The car ride back to your apartment was just full of you two talking about anything and everything. From when he planned all of this and how he managed to get out of his activities to Johnny almost ruining the surprise when he struggled to say something that would both ease your worries but not let you in on the secret. The whole time, Mark's hand was on your thigh as you needed both hands to properly manoeuvre your car through the snow. You sometimes caught Mark looking outside with pure wonder and amazement as he took in the image of the city blanketed by the snow. The smile on your face never left as you tried to process every moment with him to keep in your memories.

"So how long are you staying?" You say as you take the elevator up to your apartment. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you had a feeling that your boyfriend who was usually uncomfortable with physical attraction, wouldn't keep a hand off of you the whole time he was there.

"I have to leave the day after Christmas." He says quietly.

Trying not to be upset by the short time together, you reminded yourself that it was better than nothing. "We'll make it work." You say simply to him while learning up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Mark felt overwhelmed by your apartment. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the sweet scent of vanilla and oranges. He tried to take as many mental notes as he could while walking around and taking in every single detail of your place. This was your home and he felt like every little knick-knack strategically placed by you was a piece of you.

"Here." You handed him a cup of apple cider to warm up.

"Thank you." He added a kiss to your temple. Suddenly remembering something, he let out a little gasp before placing his cup down on the coffee table and going to his backpack. He pulled out a box wrapped in red paper and a golden bow that was slightly flattened from its journey to the other side of the world to you.

"What's this?" You ask when he places it in your hands, taking a seat next to you.

"Just open it." He smiles. The excitement was practically bursting from him as he anticipated you opening the box.

"Your gift is probably on the doorstep of your mom's place right now." You sighed.

"It's okay baby, I can't wait to open it but just open yours now." He said.

The lid lifted to reveal a necklace with a delicate golden chain and a little purple gem dangling from it. "Mark…" you coo, your eyes welling up with tears again.

"Are you going to cry again?" He laughs and you playfully poke his side. "I know purple is your favourite colour… It's not much but I thought you'd like it." He said softly while he fixed it around your neck. You smiled up at him before you situated yourself in his lap, straddling his thighs.

"It's perfect." You kiss him, "what else did you get me?" You pull back when he tries to deepen the kiss.

"What do you mean?" He stared blankly at you.

"You said it's not much so where's the rest of my present?" You say mischievously.

"You said it's perfect but you want more?" He cocks an eyebrow up.

"Well… I haven't seen you in a year and a half, there has to be more." You tease.

"I'm your present aren't I?" He smirks, grabbing the bow from the box and sticking it onto his head.

"I guess…" you laugh while leaning in to kiss him again. "You're lucky you're cute." You say as he stands up, making sure to wrap your legs around him before turning towards your bedroom.

[samwrights]

When The Birds Came

I got Persona 5 Royal as a Christmas gift from my husband and you can bet your ass I fell head-over-heels for Iwai Munehisa and Sakamoto Ryuji. In general, I love loud blonde’s and dads. This is also the first time I haven’t made the reader a smoker (yay, good job Sam) when I very well could have.

Anyway, this is my “yay I’m back from a massive hiatus” piece in which you could tell my main focus was being more descriptive with the NSFW portion as well as continuity. I also am now trying to make lengthy playlists on Spotify to encourage myself and my readers. You can find me on Spotify under the name overxhaul.

Title taken from the song “Prey” by The Neighborhood. 

And yes, I am very aware I love writing ridiculously stupid long oneshots. Sue me.

➳ Pairing: Reader x Iwai Munehisa

➳ Word count: 16,076

➳ Warnings: language, vague child neglect, daddy issues, mommy issues lack of contraceptives, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, slight cum play, overstimulatioin, squirting, obviously nsfw

“Come again soon!” You gave a wave to the young man you’d just handed his boba to. Presumably, he was still in middle school, as made noticeable by the school uniform, but he had been coming every day later in the evening before skulking off to the alley around the corner from your little boba shop in Shibuya. Maybe one day you would remember to ask his name, you muse silently. It was even more amusing to note that he always grabbed two drinks when he did come—maybe his sweetheart was too shy to order their own drink, so this little gentleman always handles it for the both of them?

You were merely speculating the minor details of this boy’s life; a telltale sign that you have entirely too much time on your hands. Flicking your wrist upward, you check your watch and assume it’s alright to close up now. It was nearing nine and while Shibuya was relatively peaceful, there has been whispers of shady business deals passing through and you would rather not get caught up in the mess. After packing up all the toppings and washing all the dishes, you locked up your little shop, waving goodbye to nearby vendors as you shut the door.

The tinkling bells over the door drown out as you take a step back, the familiar noise muting as your focus shifts to the abrupt feeling of your back colliding against a squishy but firm wall. Following it was the sound of an abrupt grunt. Immediately, you whip your head around ready to apologize profusely only to be met with a chest. Cautiously, you tilted your head back to look the man in the face—whether merely to apologize or to subconsciously register his face in your memory system in the event he came back to kill you, you weren’t sure—only to be met with steely grey eyes. “S-sorry,” you manage to stutter out, just to receive a bored grunt in reply. His lackluster response prompts you to take a step back away from the man that towered over you, allowing him to move past you with little to no acknowledgement of your remorse.

Silently, the man stuffs his hands into his coat pockets while the crunching of what sounds like glass shatters between his teeth. Unbeknownst to you, you let out an audible gasp—as if trying to remind yourself to breathe—at the noise before you shut your gaping mouth and clench your jaw. The thirty second exchange had left the impression on you that he was dangerous—the hunter versus the hunted. Predator versus prey.

Him versus you.

Had your mind not been too preoccupied with his broad form skulking away from you, you might have noticed the half-drunken plastic cup in his hand with little black boba pearls settled at the bottom. Instead, you had only thought you had felt those vicious eyes boring into the back of your skull as you walked home to your little apartment in the outskirts of town. As if he were standing in every alleyway waiting for the opportunity to pounce—to the point where you were keeping your head down while peeking out the corner of your eyes to see if anyone else was around.

You figured you were being silly and paranoid—even more so when you had entered your apartment and cautiously flicked on the lights before even removing your shoes. You knew you were being paranoid when you ripped back the curtains to your shower as if some serial killer were going to be behind it. And you knew you were going absolutely overboard when you triple checked all the locks on your front door and made sure to close and lock your bedroom door as if that were going to enough to deter a predator.

It was ridiculous to even think you, a mere insignificant fly, was capable of leaving a lasting impression on the man as he did on you. It wasn’t like you were bound to cross paths with him again, you argued with yourself.

He had no reason to notice you—this dread you felt was ridiculously unfounded. But no matter how much you tried to reason with yourself as you laid down for bed that evening, the racing of your heart did little to slow until the man was nothing but a dull hum at the back of your mind.

By the morning, the previous day’s events were nearly forgotten. Perhaps that had something to do with you being late to class this morning and the way you rushed out of your little Shibuya apartment before dashing off to the train station. Not that sprinting would make you not late for class—the train itself only went a certain speed. But the chances of you missing the next soonest train would mean you wouldn’t be that late for class and at least you can still bear witness to part of the lecture—

If only you had made the train.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips; there was no way you’d make it in time. Even attempting to go to your only class now would be a pointless trip to campus. There was still plenty of time until you were supposed to arrive at your boba shop. Seize the day, you figure, as you pay the fee to hop on the train to Inokashira Park. It was a beautiful morning, may as well enjoy the sunshine and attempt to capture the beauty of the landscape through digital painting.

With headphones in, you let the gentle hum of hip hop beats fade into the background while your hand laid out a gestural drawing of the land. A tree here, shoreline there—there was no reason the grumpy man, long forgotten from yesterday, should have been anywhere outside of the depths of your subconscious. But as the saying goes, the more you think of something—or in this case someone—the more likely you’ll notice it more in the world around you. Like how the trees in the distance stood tall as he did and proud of how the natural striations in far off rock formations reminded you of the strange man’s salt and pepper locks peeking from under his hat.

Speak it into existence, or something like that.

Maybe that was the reason the unnamed man was sitting at the park bench directly across from you on a sunny Tuesday afternoon.

Part of you wanted to get up and leave due to the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine. But, considering he was in the midst of what seemed to be a teeming argument under the guise of a normal day to day conversation, you figured he’d yet to acknowledge your existence. That was what you were hoping for anyway. After having the general layout of your landscape laid out on the drawing application on your tablet, you held up your cellphone to take a reference photo to finish the painting later. Genuinely, you thought nothing of it until you heard a gritty, “hey!” Before your brain could process what was happening, the same man you had bumped into the previous evening was holding your wrist in one hand, the other holding onto your phone. “What do you think you’re doing?” He snarls.

“L-let go of me!” You squeak out, causing his grip to tighten further in reciprocation.

“I’m not gonna ask you again, kid,” sandpaper. His voice reminded you of sandpaper.

“I was just taking a reference photo of my painting so I could work on it at home...” considering there was no canvas or paint, it was no wonder he didn’t believe you. Still, he let go of your wrist but held onto your phone well above your head like a bully holding a child’s toy out of reach. With trembling fingers, you reached into your bag and held open your now unlocked tablet to him, hoping your trepidation didn’t blur the photo. As he studied the drawing, he lowered his hand until it was at his side. Even if it were far from finished, he could see the ripples in the water coming from the love boats on the river and a little family of ducks near the rock formation. He could see the luxurious foliage that seemed to frame him and his not-so-friendly acquaintance.

“Take me out of it,” he grumbles, handing your phone back to you and turning away. If embarrassment was an emotion he was familiar with, then that would have been the best way to describe the awkward feeling bubbling in his chest. Maybe if he had undergone different circumstances, he wouldn’t feel the need to interrogate some poor kid in a park in broad daylight.

There’s no point in regretting the past, he decided this long ago. Nobody can change the actions they had once taken—only live with the consequences of their choices and try to learn to move on.

Iwai Munehisa knew that all too well.

And if you hadn’t yet, you were going to learn real quick.

Your shift at the shop had gone by as usual. The school rush wasn’t particularly bad today despite the sunny weather and cooler temperatures. Yet, without fail, the same mousy boy that had come every day at a quarter to five in his middle school uniform showed up. Before he’s even made it to the counter, you begin prepping everything for his routine beverages: small taro iced milk tea with a little bit of extra boba and a regular sized thai iced coffee with an additional espresso shot poured after the remaining components had been shaken together.

“O-oh,” the boy says, a foreign forlorn look on his face, “I-I’m so sorry. I only needed the taro today—my dad said I needed to stop bringing him all this extra sugar every day,” despite only needing the one, he takes out the usual amount of money that he always does for the two drinks. You purse your lips in a tight line, mentally berating yourself for being so presumptuous.

“It’s on me today, kid,” you push the two cups towards him and hand him the thick plastic straws—a blue one for him and green for the coffee. His eyes always seemed to light up just a bit more when he saw the two colors slide across the counter. “I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry. Tell your dad he can blame me for today’s sugar overdose, okay?” The boy’s face lit up, albeit only for a brief second, before taking the drinks and his hand and thanking you profusely.

The rest of the evening resumed normalcy, crawling along the clock. At one point, you’d sent the rest of your employees home because keeping them at the shop was cruel and unusual punishment.

Even after cleaning all the dirty store equipment and preparing mixes and ingredients for tomorrow, you still had an hour left before you were due to close up shop. The irony of Billie Eilish’s ‘Bored’ playing on the store stereo was not lost you.

As the owner, you decided to remain open for another twenty minutes out of courtesy. But, considering not a soul had come by (you swear you saw a tumbleweed blow across your cafe floor), you had decided to flick the neon light off and lock the door, standing in the doorway and fumbling with the key. At least there was a chance of you getting home and getting to bed early, so as to avoid your train-missing debacle from this morning. Maybe even get a chance to sneak some pampering in with a salt soak in the tub and a face mask or even meal prep a few things so that you wouldn’t have run to Big Bang Burger for the umpteenth time this week because you didn’t have time—

“You again?”

You weren’t even thinking about him, you swear. How the hell did the same grumpy man from the park this morning manifest before you?! “Hehehe,” you chuckle in clear discomfort, “w-we gotta stop meeting like this?”

“Actually, I just came by to say thanks for the drink,” the grey-haired man looks down to the half drunken beverage in his left hand for clarity, “but don’t let Kaoru bring stuff for me anymore.” That answered another question that you’d had for a while—you finally knew the boy’s name. But knowing that this man was his father opened a different can of worms entirely.

“Right, gotta watch your figure?” You joked. The man before you looked entirely unamused, only letting out a simple grunt as a form of acknowledgement of your silly question. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your figure—“

“I run Untouchable,” he interrupts, not caring much for your ramble, “sometimes I have questionable patrons that I don’t need ‘im seeing,” your face drops momentarily as you’re met in a deadlock with the man. Being the daughter of a shop owner at one point led you to empathize with the child. And regardless of his reasoning, that didn’t mean that his son didn’t miss him from time to time. From what you knew about this Kaoru boy, he probably used the boba as an excuse to see his dad, even if just for five minutes.

“You know,” you started off slowly, “Kaoru prolly just misses you. And you not allowing him to even bring you a coffee while you’re working denies him the opportunity of seeing his dad on his own terms.” A scowl replaces his blasé features. Wrong move, [name]. Wrong move.

“And what do you know about parenting, kid?” He spits out.

“My names not ‘kid’, asshole,” you bite back, “and we were all kids once. Some of us just choose to live with consequences of our parents actions a lot longer than others.” With that, you storm away.

Well, you try to.

But the grip this man has on your wrist is dangerous, as if trying to let you know you were meeting the end of your life by his hand. “Be careful who you mouth off to, kid—“

“It’s [surname],” you snip once again as you puff out your chest. It was clear to the both of you that you were not backing down. While this surly man was somewhat taken aback, impressed even, by your tenacity, you had figured there was no point backing down now. Even with your posture standing just a bit taller, the man gripping your wrist held it above his own head, pressing both of your chests together.

“A pleasure to meet you, [surname],” he drawls sarcastically, “I’m Iwai. Now stay out of my fucking business,” letting you go, Iwai grumbles to himself before walking away from you with an audible crunch of the sucker between his teeth. When he was no longer in eyesight and ear shot, you let out an audible gasp to replenish the breath you’d been holding. Maybe he was right—there was no reason for you to meddle or to say the things that you had. But at the same time, you knew those morose looks on Kaoru’s face all too well—being an only child with absent parents is a language that only those who suffer can speak.

So maybe you wouldn’t encourage Kaoru to bring nice treats for Iwai, but you made it your mission to make sure Kaoru didn’t go home every night wishing he could see his dad for more than ten minutes.

One of the downsides to being an owner of a shop, or a good one anyway, was dedicating seven days a week to running your business. Sure, you had a few part timers here and there that could easily handle the shop, but they were students who needed to keep up with their studies and wanted to have social lives. Rather than dealing with the hassle of finding someone reliable enough, you made it a point to shoulder the burden on your own. Being slow enough most nights did allow you to work on your own coursework in between—the perks of being in college merely for the sake of learning rather than emphasizing the importance of securing a degree. It also allowed you to tackle administrative work while engaging with your customers.

Including a young boy who still looked so downtrodden as he ordered his small taro boba tea on ice. “It’s Kaoru, right?” You ask him casually as you hand him his drink. The boy offers you a look of surprise.

“Y-yeah?”

“It’s nice to officially meet you, I’m [surname].” He smiles bashfully to replace his stupefied look. Handing off his tea, you notice the way he lingers, as if contemplating whether or not he wants to stay or flit off elsewhere. “You’re more than welcome to hang around here and do homework or something, Kaoru-kun,” you add, noticing the way his eyes flicker back and forth between the alley where you now know his father is.

“O-Okay,” the boy responds meekly before taking a two-top table by the window. It gave him the best view of said alley, and part of you wonders if he did that intentionally. Deciding to leave it be for now, you occasionally peek out the corners of your eye to see Kaoru flipping through what you assumed to be pages of homework. Every few minutes, he was looking up out the window before mindlessly fingering the pages again.

When your line had died down and all customers had been serviced, you walked out from behind the counter with a towel in hand. Using the guise of sanitizing the tables, you approached the boy, clearing your throat so as to pardon your presence. “Looks like entrance exams, am I right?” Kaoru looks up at you again, boyish eyes gleaming as if he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. “How are your studies going?”

“Uh...not very good,” he admits sheepishly. “Sometimes my dad helps me study, but he hasn’t been home lately before I go to bed.”

Ah.

Why did it feel like you were looking in a mirror every time you talked to this boy?

“Well, I’m sure your dad has his reasons. If you don’t mind, I could always help you study?” Perhaps it was spite that drove your actions. After all, Iwai had told you to stay out of his business, yet here you were, offering to tutor his son just because he refused to be present. Maybe it was remorse because you had meant what you said—Iwai had his reasons. Just like your father did back when you were Kaoru’s age.

That didn’t mean that your father’s absence didn’t hurt you or manifest itself as the young boy sitting at one of your tables.

“R-really?!” The boy’s excited voice pulled you from your inner monologue. You offer a soft smile instead, reaching over to turn his notebook towards you.

Comprehension comes easy enough for you to show him, as well as the various portions of Japanese and English grammar and vocabulary. Math was only slightly more difficult, but not by much considering it was still relatively basic formulas that had just been reworked for the current generation’s curriculum.

Science at this age was something you hadn’t even faced until your second or third year of high school.

“Why the heck,” you emphasize your censorship, despite strongly wishing to drop an f-bomb, “are they teaching you physics in middle school?!”

“They aren’t,” Kaoru all but cries. It’s apparent that this subject has been frustrating him immensely—perhaps that was why he was also desperate for his father’s attention? “I haven’t learned any of this yet, but I really want to make it into this academy but it’s one of the top schools in the prefecture and I’m worried I’m too dumb to get in.” The boy had split every last ounce of anxiety, his words coming a garbled mess as he refused to take a breath as he spoke while teems of hot tears threatened to spill past his eyes.

“Hey, Kaoru-chan?” You say gently as you close his notebook. “You are not dumb,” you murmur firmly while looking him in his wet eyes, “you haven’t learned this stuff yet so of course it’s going to be difficult. That doesn’t mean you can’t learn it.” Kaoru is quiet for a moment, slight sniffles sounding from his face.

“But if we aren’t learning this in school, how am I supposed to learn how to do any of this?” Pausing, you check your watch for the time as you realize how late it must’ve gotten. It was already closing time, and the streets of Shibuya were starting to run thin.

“Tell you what, Kaoru-chan. Give me two days. Two days, I’ll come up with a study guide for you with formulas and units you’ll need to know to learn just basic physics. Does that sound good?” As you shut off the neon ‘Open’ sign, the boy takes this as a signal to begin packing his belongings into his knapsack.

“O-okay,” he hesitates, “but I-I don’t wanna be a bother, [surname]-san. I can always ask my dad, though he’s not much of a help usually,” the last part is mumbled almost unintelligibly.

Almost.

Your chest constricts again because you swear this child, however short of a time you’ve known him, is too much like you to be a mere coincidence. It was more like whatever omniscient being up above sent you this child to help.

“You’re no bother, Kaoru-chan. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I will let you know right away when I have your study guide ready, but you should probably head on home before your dad starts worrying about you.” The boy agrees, the slick appearance of tears dissipating until they were replaced with some semblance of hope. Maybe he could get into the academy—maybe he’s not dumb and his dad doesn’t want to be around him, he thinks.

“Thanks again, [surname]-san!”

“Kaoru, why are you still out right now?” The boy in question whips his head around, meeting the steely grey eyes of his father. “And you, I thought I told you stay out of my business? That includes my son!” Iwai was angry. The lower lid of his left eye shook, and the corners of his mouth trembled as if ready to snarl. He wasn’t just angry.

Iwai Munehisa was livid.

“D-dad, I’m sorry. We lost track of time a-and [surname]-san was helping me—“

“Go home and go to bed, Kaoru. I’ll meet you there shortly.”

“O-okay...” despite not wanting to, Kaoru takes his leave down the streets of Shibuya. Occasionally his gaze would flicker back to the sight of you staring at his father with your arms crossed over his chest and him returning the look with venom.

“What do you want, [surname]? Is it money? Who sent you?” The way your family name leaves his lip is entirely satirical. There’s malice painting his tone, as if trying to submerge his very obvious threatening posture with extra ammunition. “I meant it when I said stay out of my business.”

“I have no problem with that, but your kid might.”

“And what do you know about him? Besides the fact that he keeps bringing you business?” Between the both of you, the volume of your voices is beginning to transcend the quiet streets of Shibuya. And considering the privacy that Iwai clearly strived for, you let out a sigh before turning around to unlock the door to your shop. The disgruntled man raises a brow, teeth clicking against the sucker between his lips as he grunts in confusion. “What, you runnin’ away now, kid?”

“I just don’t think you or your son would appreciate this conversation taking place in such a public space.” You huff with a roll of your eyes before holding the door open for him. Weary, Iwai scuffles in, his clunky boots thumping along the linoleum of your storefront. His caution made you roll your eyes before you locked the door once again behind him. “I offered to tutor Kaoru because he’s having anxiety about his entrance exams.” You bite out. Iwai, now pausing his gawking at your frilly, all white and gold boba shop, snaps his neck towards you. It seems you had his attention now.

“I already told him I would get him a tutor, so leave him alone.”

“Dude,” you huff once again, dropping all formalities along with your patience, “he almost started crying in front of me. He thinks he’s dumb and you’ve apparently put off finding a tutor for long enough that he is freaking out and nearly having public meltdowns.”

For a moment, Iwai is silent. There’s no noise in the shop, save for the incessant clacking of that damned lollipop.

“He’s not dumb,” is all his father grits out, the hardened sugar finally cracking underneath his molars.

“No, he’s not. He actually kept up with my little impromptu lessons. He can pass those exams; he just needs a little help.” With a newfound resolve, Iwai turns around to stand at his full figure, eyes narrowing down towards you.

“Let’s meet somewhere and talk this over. Not tonight obviously, I gotta fix a couple o’ things at home,” he grumbles, much like his son had earlier that evening.

“What, like an interview?” You balk incredulously. What, did he think you were trying to kidnap his kid or something?! Kaoru was nearly your height and you ran a little freakin’ boba shop—what the hell could you possibly do that would be even remotely threatening?!

“Yeah, like an interview. I’ll reach out to ya in a couple days. Later,” with finality, Iwai brushes past your smaller frame, unlocks the door and exits the shop, leaving you to your confused, dumbfounded solitude.

Rest did not find you easy that night.

No matter what tactics you had resorted to in an attempt to find sleep, nothing seemed to work. Guided relaxation and meditation, one of your typical go-to methods, had only left you with even more tense muscles. You tried turning on quiet, gentle music while continuing the digital painting you had started a couple weeks ago. The whole hour you had tried, your eyes had subconsciously flitted back and forth between the area you were painting and the two men conversing on the bench in your reference photo.

Just take me out of it, his voice had gnawed at the back of your mind.

And slowly, the two conversing men had been exchanged with silhouettes of the aforementioned man and a much shorter figure sitting shoulder to shoulder by his side. While it made for decent artwork, the thought of having to paint such a tender moment, as opposed to witnessing it firsthand, had left you full with guilt. The poor boy you were so determined to help—the boy so desperate for his father’s attention. Where was his mother? Couldn’t she help him out?

Then again, it wasn’t like your own mom did much for you either. If anything, she merely stood idly by while your father barked instructions on how to live your life.

Go to college for business.

Earn nothing less than perfection.

Open your own shop.

Be successful.

But also, friendships are unnecessary, and you should sever ties should you make them.

Get a job without help, but also pay for your own transportation said job.

Live independently—do everything on your own so that your success is yours.

These were your guiding principles of life. The only reason you turned out the way you did was out of sheer rebellion, doing everything your parents asked and more in your own way. And when you finally did achieve your rendition of success, you cut all ties with them.

You didn’t want Kaoru to turn into the bitter human you had by following some unwritten code like you had, especially if he didn’t have to.

But thinking of the boy leads you back to his irritated father and the initial reason you couldn’t sleep. The immediate flip in personality of Iwai had left you all sorts of jumbled. At first, he was so adamant and insistent that you stay far away from the Iwai family—to stay out of his business. Was he merely humoring you? Something in those grey eyes told you no. Rather, it told you of a more insidious reason that, even if he wasn’t physically standing before you, made your spine run cold. The type of chill that travelled from the base of your neck down your core.

The more you dwelled on the thought, the more you wondered about how he would get in contact with you. Would he call you? He didn’t have your number, but some inkling in the back of your head told you that wasn’t going to stop him. Would he just come by after work again? Maybe you should make sure your security cameras were working so that he didn’t kill you inside your own shop. The idea didn’t seem farfetched, you attempted to rationalize. Considering the death grip he had on your wrist twice now, he could have easily broken a bone or two. Iwai could easily slam his big hands on your throat and break your hyoid bone, crushing your windpipe. He could bind and gag you—

Okay, [name], time for bed.

Despite all the tossing and turning from the previous night, you had managed to make it to your digital design class early enough to grab a coffee on the way. Lord knows you needed it.

Much like the night before, the hour-long course had dragged on with every second stretching the minutes. Since your mind and presence were practically nonexistent, you had opted to head to a cafe nearby in Kichijoji. It was a short, half-hour walk that seemed to tick by much faster than your morning had. Sitting outside, enjoying a beautifully crafted latte and a light lunch while working on your digital painting had been the reset you’d needed. It seemed to ebb away the sleepless night. Maybe work wouldn’t be so daunting later.

But that feeling of dread is pokes its head once again upon receiving a text message from an unknown number.

Where are you.

Part of you becomes weary of your surroundings, scoping out for any suspicious characters that might be looking your way. Another part of you scoffs at the message—why on earth would you reveal your location to an unknown number? However, ignoring the text as you thought you should, proved to be ineffective as the unfamiliar number flashes again in the form of a call not once, but twice. When you refused to pick up the second time, another message is sent.

What, you scared of a job interview, kid?

Before colorful words can be muttered under your breath, you answer the phone as it rings for a third time. “How the fuck did you get my number?” You bite out between ground teeth. On the other end of the line, Iwai Munehisa lets out a chuckle before merely stating that he has his connections.

“Seriously though, where are you? I got time before the shop opens.” For a moment, you’re quiet, contemplating on whether or not you should tell him. On the plus side, you were in a public space at the moment. He couldn’t kill you behind closed doors like he was so clearly capable of. Though maybe a small part of you wouldn’t mind feeling that delicious grip on your throat, even if for a second—“Earth to [surname],” the voice chimes on the line. Pulling you from your boundless thoughts, you absently spew off your location as if you were talking with an old friend as opposed to the man you’d been continuously butting heads with. “Kichijoji? It’ll take me a few, but I’ll be there within the hour. Later.”

With that, Iwai hangs up, leaving you to your train wreck of thoughts.

Shit.

He was coming to interview you to be a tutor—which, that part was the least of your worries—but you hadn’t prepared a damn thing for Kaoru yet. Considering how yesterday’s events played out, you figured you had a bit more time. Not that you didn’t perform well under pressure, no. It was more of the fact that the Untouchable owner made your skin crawl and your blood boil and triggered your fight-or-flight response with a single look.

Exiting out of the digital painting program, you pull up a blank note page in your tablet before creating a rough draft of Kaoru’s lesson plans. While you were initially just helping him with science, you figured it would be helpful to refine other subjects of the entrance exams just for Kaoru’s peace of mind.

Still awaiting his father, you begin writing out a formula sheet to be used with his study guides for both the math section and the science section. Even only glancing at the boy’s workbook briefly, you had a rough idea of the material content—acceleration due to gravity, formulas for mass, Planck’s constant, conversions between Fahrenheit to Celsius to Kelvin—

“Huh. I didn’t expect you to take this so seriously.” Iwai has a hand on the back of your chair, leaning his weight on the furniture as he looks over what you have written so far. Much of the letters and symbols looked like a whole lot of mumbo jumbo to him—a foreign language that he didn’t expect a girl like you to be so well-versed in.

“Oh!” You squeak out, startled by his sudden presence. “Jesus, give a girl a warning next time, would ya?” Iwai gives a roll of his grey eyes before taking the seat across the table from him. The waitress swings by upon seeing a new guest, grabbing his order for a basic drip coffee with cream and sugar on the side.

“It looks like you know what you’re doing. You just pull these outta your ass?” His roundabout phrasing isn’t as effective as he thinks, you muse. Not that you blame him for his suspicions—you ran a little boba shop that probably didn’t net much profit or had relatively simple supply systems with no need for knowledge of these types of formulas.

“No,” you huff out a small tuft of air in a scoff, “I graduated with a degree in astrophysics.” Iwai quirks a brow, clearly not hiding the confusion at the drastic dichotomy of your current occupation and your area of specialization. Even more than the confusion, he was clearly skeptical of this being true.

“Is that so? Say I believe you,” this man was very good at pushing your buttons, you note, “why waste your degree tutoring my boy?” The question grit against your thin nerves.

“Well, considering I’m running a tea shop instead of finding more habitable planets on the International Space Station right now, I would say that at least tutoring offers me a small, singular use of my degree.” You balk, simultaneously propping your elbow on the table and cradling your head to further emphasize your irritation. Beneath his breath, you swear you hear the man mutter, ‘brat’.

“Fine, next question.” Iwai pauses momentarily, sipping his coffee and setting down the mug a little less than gracefully before slumping back into his chair. His arms and knees are crossed, the telltale signs of one keeping their cards close to their chest. “Who are you?”

Huh?

Iwai repeats his questioning, adding pressure to the first word as if he were indirectly prying for a specific answer.

“Uh, I’m [surname] [name]. I’m 29, Toho graduate in astrophysics, as I mentioned, as well as a double major in business, while currently taking a digital design course for shits and giggles?”

“And?” You narrow your eyes at him, blood constricting and your pupils turning to pinpricks out of sheer annoyance.

“And what?”

“That’s all there is to ya? No tricks, no hidden agendas; It’s that simple?” The question coming from his lips seems to be more to himself rather than directed at you. His body is no longer scrunched—however difficult that may be for someone of his hulking stature—with his legs spread out a bit more comfortably and his arms relaxed in a looser cross. With him stretching out, his feet just barely brush yours, but neither of you make the motion to recede them.

“Simple? You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” Feeling the slightly laxer attitude, you mirror his posture. Despite leaving your hand on the table and cradling your chin, the action is more fueled by intrigue rather than annoyance as it had earlier.

“What can I say? I like ‘em simple. Better than dealing with dramatics and feeling like a babysitter.” You aren’t totally sure if he was aiming for a joke—from the blasé look on his face, you would say no—but you can’t help but laugh. Despite his scary appearance that had rattled every vertebrae in your spine from a single look, Iwai was no better than a grumpy old man yelling at the neighborhood kids for playing too loud in the middle of the day. Or at least, from that tiny interaction he did. The bubble of laughter, however, grates at his nerves. “Alright, last question. You get oddly protective when it comes to my son. Why?”

Protective.

Huh?

Is that how he viewed it? Your initial reaction was to offer a rebuttal—to outright deny his claim. “I-I’m not—“

“[name],” the vowels and consonants strung together like honey straight from the dripper when he spoke your name, rather than the malice that his tone held. “Just spit it out.”

“I’m not protective, I’m preventative.” Well, he did tell you to spit it out. So your words come out unrefined like a rough draft to a thesis while the two of you stare at each other. Grey on [eyecolor]. “My parents used to run a little shop in Sendai—spent all their time there and left me to just do whatever. I always lived by their rule, always tried to be perfect so maybe they would come celebrate my achievements with me.”

But they never did. Student council president? Big whoop.

Valedictorian? You’re only in high school.

Got a perfect in your entrance exams to Toho? So what.

Graduated summa cum laude with a double major? They didn’t even come to your graduation.

“It hurts a kid. A lot. I saw all the same signs in Kaoru, I just don’t want another kid to grow up like me.” For a moment, Iwai is quiet. He’s contemplating his words, careful and cautious of what to say. On the one hand, he understands what you’re saying. Truly, he does. He understands it isn’t fair to his son—it’s not fair to constantly leave him alone and in the dark and all to hide his past. Kaoru never asked for that.

Hell, Kaoru never asked to be born, let alone sold and left on Iwai’s front porch.

At the same time, Iwai Munehisa takes a long look at you. While he acknowledges the tired, nearly empty gaze in your eyes and your gaunt, frail body that clearly lacks some form of nourishment, he also sees the raw intelligence. He sees drive and passion and guts and part of him thinks if his kid turned out half the person you did, maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.

However, he also realizes that he’s wrong for thinking that. You are a product of poor upbringing, and you were trying to break the cycle.

“Personally,” the grey-haired man starts off slowly, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You’re a gutsy woman that’s standing up for what she believes in.” Iwai can tell you’re ready to fire a rebuttal immediately, to which he holds his hand up. “But I get what you’re saying. Kaoru shouldn’t have to take the same journey just to achieve the same results—so you have my permission.”

You close your lips back together as you clench your jaw. This should have felt like a victory for you—you get to help this poor boy feel validated in his efforts. But you know it doesn’t come solely from you, a stranger that just happened to hear his pleas.

“I need more than that, Iwai. You need to start being there for him too, otherwise this is all moot.”

The man in question licks the dry plains of his lips before pursing them together. How was he going to justify leaving the shop? That would mean his part-timer would have to close up shop for him. What if Tsuda or Masa end up at the shop—

It doesn’t matter, Iwai realizes. This is for his son, his literal fucking world. He would be no better than Kaoru’s birth mom if he couldn’t even be there for his boy.

“Okay,” the weapons dealer agrees after a minute, “whatever he needs. But the tutoring sessions happen in my home and nowhere else. Understood?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you hold your hand out to shake on the deal, not even registering the fact that you were going to be inside the Iwai home or picking up on how adamant he was with this request.

While Iwai Munehisa was a relatively strict man, you were grateful that he showed some flexibility to your own personal schedule. Sure, it was something that any normal, decent human would do, but for some reason you just hadn’t expected that courtesy from him.

Your tutoring sessions started at six in the evening which gave everyone ample time to take care of their own needs. You had time to complete your own coursework and manage your shop, Iwai was able to teach his part-timer how to close up shop for the evening, and Kaoru would be able to take care of assignments due the following day or attend cram school. Each day that you had tutoring sessions, Munehisa would pick you up from your own store, walking with you side by side back to his shared apartment. Some days, he would be silent. Others, he would indulge you with mundane conversations.

“Wait so you’re back in school, just for the hell of it?” The gun shop owner had asked when you presented him with the painting. The one of him and Masa in Inokashira Park, though the latter was no longer in the photo. Instead, the silhouette had been exchanged for a much shorter one, paying homage to Kaoru instead.

“Yeah, I told you that during my interview,” you remind him casually, looking anywhere but his direction as the photo was being zoomed in and out from all sorts of directions under his scrutinizing eye. “I wanted to get better at art, so I took some local classes.”

“Huh,” he hums thoughtfully, handing you back your tablet, “pretty impressive, kid.”

You’ve learned not to take offense to him calling you that. In a sense, he was almost old enough to be your dad (or at least that was what he kept telling you, but you had your doubts)—essentially everyone is a kid in his eyes. If anything, it was more of a term of endearment at this point.

After he opens the doorway to the apartment, you take your shoes off before calling out his son’s name. In the short three weeks that you’ve been at this routine, you’ve found yourself already familiar with the space and easily make yourself at home. Kaoru is in the living room, hunched over a coffee table with his notes scattered everywhere. The boy is muttering formulas to himself as he punches numbers into a calculator, followed by anguished wails before noticing your presence. “[name]-san, help,” he whimpers.

Another normality that’s been created is that Kaoru has dropped the formalities with you per your request. Iwai holds his hands up in defeat, knowing the two of you were going to be busy by the frustrated look on his son’s face. “I’ll get dinner started,” he adds as he saunters off to the kitchen. He knows better than attempt to help in the math or science department—that’s your area of expertise after all.

“Alright kiddo, let’s take a look.” Immediately you get to work, assessing his problem—physics, which had been a real struggle for the boy—step by step while his dad observes from the half-wall in the kitchen. You look entirely at ease, patient and productive as you sit shoulder to shoulder with his son. Iwai can hear your simple explanations for why certain numbers do and don’t work in the formula that the question calls for. “...this is why you gotta make sure that you’re always very specific with your units. It’ll lead to context clues later...” you may be a brat, Munehisa muses, but you were an absolute natural with his boy.

As promised, Munehisa was present for your tutoring sessions and often checked in on Kaoru’s progress. Not just by being there either, but pulling out questions from his study guides, changing the numbers, and having the boy solve them so that he could apply what he learned. On top of that, Munehisa made dinner for the three of you each night as well as prepped his son’s lunches for the next day. It was strangely domestic, but also filled a part of his heart he hadn’t known was missing. “Come eat, you two,” he called out from the kitchen as he finished setting the table. When he hears no response, the grey-haired man pokes his head into the living room to see you and Kaoru engrossed in a very serious conversation fueled by hushed whispers. Focusing his hearing on words rather than the gentle pitter patter of rain hitting the window, he can make out a couple sentences.

“...what if I don’t pass the exams?”

“Hey, you’re gonna do amazing, Kao-chan. You’re already figurin’ out most of these problems on your own, you could get into any school in the prefecture. And we’ve still got a couple months to go, and you’re doing so well, you don’t need to be so hard on yourself.” A small part of Munehisa’s heart aches. Where did he go wrong as a dad for his son to be this hard on himself?

“You’re going to ace it, Kaoru,” he says without thinking, causing the two of you to snap your heads in his direction. Iwai’s expression is soft—a juxtaposition to how it usually is—as he locks eyes with his son. For a moment, the boy looks as if he’s going to cry while having the ability to light up the entire apartment with how bright he’s smiling. Such a soft, tender moment between father and son that you can’t help but think you shouldn’t be here. “Now c’mon, let’s have dinner.” Iwai offers you a hand to pull you off the floor while his son is already setting off to the small dining room at Mach speed. Even after hoisting yourself off the tatami mats, however, Iwai’s hand is still loosely gripping yours. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Uh, y-yeah, no problem!” Your hand retracts from his immediately, as if his skin were made of fire rather than flesh, before you flit off to take the empty seat across from Kaoru to gush over how wonderful your meal looked.

That softness never left Iwai Munehisa’s face, even as he took the seat between you and his son at the little circular table designed for four. The three of you say grace before digging in, with a small reminder to have Kaoru eat his veggies. Since you had started tutoring him over the last couple weeks, the environment in the Iwai household had shifted to something more domesticated—homier—than Munehisa was used to.

And he would be a fucking liar if he said he didn’t like it.

A part of him wonders if this could have been his life from the get-go had Kaoru been born his son; if Kaoru had you as his mom, would this be what life would be like?

Full stop, Munehisa, he grumbles internally.

This was a contract deal. You tutor his son for entrance exams in exchange for meals because he knows for a fact now all you eat is garbage, as well as ensuring that Kaoru is receiving the care that a lonely only child needs. Yet, despite this whole contract set-up, you found yourself seeing the boys even on the days you didn’t have tutoring sessions. There were days when Akira, the part-time employee at Untouchable, would watch the store and both the Iwai men would pay you a visit at the shop, staying until you had finished up your shift for the day. Other times, you and Munehisa would subconsciously meet outside your shopfront and walk together towards his apartment before realizing it was a Sunday or a Thursday—two days you always had off from tutoring.

You were at his apartment almost as much as you were at your own.

Conversation flowed between you and Kaoru so easily, ranging from school to local sports to art. “Oh! I forgot to show you something Kao-chan! Pardon me,” you abruptly stood up, skipping to the living room to grab your tablet from your work bag. Unlocking it and pulling up the painting, you flip the screen over to show Kaoru the completed artwork. For a moment, the boy is marveled as he recognizes his father’s coat and his school uniform on the figures facing the water. The striations in the rock formations, the shadows of the trees—everything is mesmerizing.

“Don’t forget to print a copy for us so we can hang it up,” Iwai reminds you. Though, it’s the first you’re hearing of this. You shoot Iwai a sheepish half-grin before clearing off your plate. Of the three of you, you’re the last one to finish, so Kaoru takes his time clearing the table while Munehisa grabs you a glass of red wine to accompany his own neat whiskey. “I’ll take care of the dishes—“

“Wait, no you cooked. Let me—“ you tried to offer, but the weapon’s dealer just shooed you away with a nonchalant flick of his wrist.

“You kids finish studying before it gets too late, I’ll take care of it.” While Kaoru has already sputtered his gratitude towards his dad and flees back to the living room, you’re still standing in the small kitchen slash dining area, collecting the remaining dishes for Iwai. “What did I just say?” He balks, drying his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder. Before you have a chance to respond, he grabs your wine that’s perched on the counter in one hand, the other gingerly placed on the small of your back as nudges you towards the living room, mumbling something along the lines of, “you never listen, ya brat.” Without another protest, you pluck the glass from his fingers, pretending the heat from his large hand on your back didn’t cause your flesh to erupt into flames.

“Alrighty, where did we leave off, Kao-chan?”

“We were working on phenotypes and genetics.” Easy enough—first year biology, you think to yourself. You go through explaining alleles to Kaoru and dominant and recessive traits with him, and how recessive traits can end up becoming more prominent in offspring.

“So if I was actually my dad’s son, there’s a chance I would have had grey eyes?”

Huh?

“Kao-chan—“

“It’s okay. I’ve always known he wasn’t my real dad.” Oh. Oh. Well that makes this ten thousand times more difficult. From your own experience, it was already hard enough being the only child and never being enough for your biological parents. In theory, they should love you unconditionally—they brought you into this world. However, this circumstance is entirely foreign to you. “My parents died when I was a baby, and he took me in because he was close to them. But sometimes, I wonder if he did that just because he was close to them, ya know? Sometimes I wonder if he even views me as his son.”

Your heart broke—shattered into thousands of tiny little shards that stuck to the muscle fibers in your body. It probably didn’t help at all that Iwai was initially so focused on running his stupid shop to the point where his own son—biological or not—needed to make excuses to see him. But at the same time, Iwai Munehisa was so overly protective of Kaoru that there was no way he didn’t view him as his child.

“Maybe,” you start off slowly, thinking back to the final question of your interview with Munehisa. “His own example of parenting is a little skewed, so he’s trying his best to do the opposite of how he was raised so that he does better with you.”

“Yeah, but you’re much better at it, [name]-san,” you frown slightly at this. In the month or so that you’ve known the Iwai family, you have to commend the fact that Munehisa has been doing much better than when you met him. His guard was still up, of course, but he was home much more with Kaoru and he was absolutely trying. But there are still parts of the boy that are filled with uncertainty and doubt—parts of him that still long for being coddled like a child because he was still one underneath it all. Subconsciously, you wrap an arm around his shoulder, offering him a loose hug that he was free to back out from at any moment.

He didn’t.

“You know what one of the first things I ever said to your dad was?” Kaoru stiffens slightly but doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, he buries himself further into the hug because he can’t remember the last time that he was given a crumb of parental affection. “‘We were all kids at some point. Some of us just choose to live with the consequences of our parents’ actions longer than others’. I told him that because every choice I make is a direct result of how I responded to my upbringing.” And now that you think about it, maybe Iwai Munehisa has seen more than you realize. In fact, you’re almost certain he has by the way he lives and raises his own child.

He was also still living with the consequences of how he was raised.

It seems his son resonates with the sentiment, as Kaoru sniffles while sitting up, but remains quiet while he still leans shoulder to shoulder with you. Despite textbooks and notebooks still being open and scattered across the living room, it was clear that he just needed a moment to be—to exist and sit and stew on his own thoughts. Once again, you reach to wrap an arm around Kaoru’s shoulder while your free hand reaches for the stemless wine glass, both of you watching the drips of the rain creating streaks on the glass of the balcony door.

From the kitchen, Iwai shuts off the water when he’s cleaned off the all the dishes. The only noises that can be heard from the living room is the water hitting glass and the occasional setting down of glass on wood, but there’s no talking. No praise from solved equations and gentle goading to finding the right answer. There’s nothing at all. There’s an intimate stillness that Iwai almost feels guilty for looking in on that creates an ache in his chest.

How the fuck were you so much better at handling his son than him?

Iwai swallows the contents of his glass in one gulp before pouring him another shot of whiskey that he will hopefully sip on as intended.

Looking outside the balcony door himself, Munehisa realizes the rain isn’t going to let up any time soon. Kaoru also likes a nice, hot mug of cocoa on rainy nights like this. While turning to heat milk on the stove, the weapons dealer wracks his brain as to if he even owns an umbrella so that you don’t have to walk home in this storm without one. He should have one, right? There’s no way he’s that shitty of a father that he doesn’t have an umbrella for his kid when it rains.

His extra one is still at Untouchable, where he usually keeps it in the event someone else needs one or if he’s got business to tend to. Upon this realization, Iwai groans before bringing the cocoa to the living room for his son.

“Kaoru, ya got an extra umbrella somewhere?” Munehisa asks gently, ignoring the panic that spreads across both Kaoru’s and your faces while the two of you pry yourselves apart. The boy thanks his dad, shamelessly sipping at the treat before turning to face away from the window.

“Actually I think I left it in my locker at school, sorry dad.”

“S’all right,” he says nonchalantly as you begin helping Kaoru pack up his notes and study guides, “maybe [name]-san can have her husband come bring by an umbrella so she don’t get sick—“ you sputter out a distinguished laugh, grateful you hadn’t been drinking the rest of your wine or you surely would have spit it all over Kaoru.

“Husband? The only thing I’m married to is the idea of getting to work for the International Space Station.” Munehisa doesn’t receive the opportunity to comment on the fact that you’re nearly thirty and not married, thanks to his son who lights up like a start at the mention of the ISS.

“Woah, is that your dream job, [name]-san?! That’s so cool!” Kaoru begins rattling off a few facts he knows about the solar system and a few accomplishments of NASA and where water can be found on Mars. Feeding his enthusiasm, you explain why water can be found on Mars in the first place and how, despite this discovery, we can’t necessarily just up and move to that planet. While the two of you geek out slightly over the stars and planets, Iwai has replenished your now empty glass of Cabernet. “Dad, why doesn’t [name]-san just stay the night until the storm stops?”

“Kaoru, that’s inappropriate.” He would be lying if he said that thought hadn’t crossed his mind. At first, he immediately banished it because he just assumed your spouse would come and get you. Then knowing there was nobody waiting at home, Iwai just didn’t want to admit that he liked the idea of you staying a little more than he should.

“B-but It’s worse to let her go home in this weather cause she’ll get sick and you’ll get sick from walking her home!” Coward, his subconscious screamed. Coward coward coward, you’re a fucking coward Munehisa. His own son has to scold him into what is clearly a smarter choice for everybody’s health merely because he’s too fucking chicken to deal with potential situations that would arise from you staying over for a night. Wait, his mind argues, nothing would even happen because you would have to have some semblance of interest in him for any of those scenarios and there was no way—

“Kao-chan, your father’s right. I couldn’t put you guys out like that. Besides, it’s not that far of a walk, I’ll be alright—“

“What? No, you’re not putting us out,” Iwai combats, feeling the need to squash the idea that your presence is a burden on the family. If anything, your presence was a necessity.

“It’s not that big of a deal—“

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight; you take my bed.” The grey-haired man is adamant now, while Kaoru is slightly pleased with himself. It’s been a long time since they’ve had company, let alone someone stay at their house. In fact, he doesn’t think anyone has since he’d been adopted. And Kaoru likes having you around, and it’s clear as day to him that his dad doesn’t mind either. So what if his umbrella was in his closet?

After it had been decided that you would crash the Iwai home, Kaoru had finished his cocoa while continuing to ask about other things about space. It was a pleasant surprise, being able to talk about these things with another person who was just as interested. Who knows, maybe one day Kaoru would grow up and want to study galaxies too?

When the boy had said his good nights, Iwai lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “You’re both a pain in my ass, ya know that?” His arms are draped over the back of the couch, one hand cradling what had to be his fifth glass of straight whiskey. You turn to face him from where you’re still perched on the floor, your back resting along his right leg with your torso still facing the storm.

“Hey, I said I could go home—“

“Yeah, you could. But Kaoru would never let me hear th’ end of it.” The two of you lapse into silence once again, letting both of your minds wander.

“He’s a good kid, ya know,” you start off slowly, “and I know it’s none of my business, but whether he’s biologically your son or not, he’s still your son.” A stifled laugh rolls off of Iwai’s chest in delicate waves before it’s washed down with more whiskey.

“He’s my son, that’s for sure. I just don’t want him to turn into a good-for-nothing scumbag like me,” your eyes peel away from the lightning lighting up the streets of Shibuya, setting your glass down with a scowl crossing your face as you turn to face the weapons dealer. “Maybe he’s lucky that he doesn’t share any of my genetics. Otherwise he would be doomed from the start.”

“Iwai, children are a product of their environment. Look at how much happier he’s been since you started coming around more often. If he hears how lowly you think of yourself, he’ll start to reflect that behavior—“

“What good does it do him to have a thug for a dad?” The grey-haired man snaps, grabbing ahold of your wrist much like he had the very first time you confronted him, though definitely not as tight. His grey eyes are locked with yours once again, hulking body causing yours to pale in comparison.

Prey.

Him versus you.

But this time, you don’t feel fear tingle down your spine. You don’t feel the need to shrink away from him because you know he could hurt you like a predator hunts. Iwai Munehisa wouldn’t do that to you. “That scare you, kid? Knowing sweet little Kao-chan’s dad is a thug? Is former Yakuza? That daddy’s got people coming after him and Kaoru left and right because of shit I did in the past?”

Iwai Munehisa wouldn’t hurt you.

“Sounds like you’re more scared about him knowing that than I am. Why would your past bother me? It’s in the past.” A growl tears at his lips before he throws your wrist towards the couch. It’s not enough force to hurt you in the slightest, just enough to pull you away from him so he can bury his shamed face in his hands with his rocks glass long forgotten on the tatami mats.

“I’m a fucking coward,” he admits, taking a long pause before continuing, “ever since he was a baby and his mother tried to sell him for drug money, I was so hellbent on making sure he never found out the truth about himself or me—that anyone found out the truth about us. Otherwise people would prolly just attach a stigma to his name like they did to me when I was a kid.” Still listening intently, you fix yourself on the couch properly so that you aren’t kneeling on the tatami mats anymore, but rather sitting beside Iwai. He’s not crying, but you can hear the caged and choked breaths trying to escape his lungs. It’s deafening, even with the flooding rain outside, Munehisa drowns out all noise, including the sound of small footsteps approaching.

“Sell me?” Both you and Iwai snap your heads towards the hallway where Kaoru stands in his pajamas, alarm painting the sclerae of his eyes. “W-what are you talking about, dad?” The man in question curses under his breath, once again cradling his face in his hands. This was not how he pictured telling his son the truth—in fact he never even planned on it. He always pictured Kaoru doing something great with his life like finding a cure for cancer and settling down with a nice girl, maybe giving him grandchildren. Everything opposite of Munehisa’s own life.

“Just tell him, Mune,” you whisper, placing a hand on his shoulder. Under the skin you could feel knots that had been long built from years of carrying his burdens. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t shirk off your touch, nor react to the use of his shortened name. In an attempt to calm down, he takes in a deep breath that you can feel inflating his lungs to their full capacity, slowly deflating as he lets it out.

“W-When you were a baby, your mother tried to sell you to me for quick drug money. I told her no, but she just left you on my doorstep. At the time, I was Yakuza, but I took you in and left the life behind,” Iwai’s fingers are laced loosely over each other as he stares at the tatami mats. It feels like his world is collapsing—like you and his son were judging him much like everyone else had when they learned who his mother was. Who knows, maybe Kaoru would rather go stay with you and have you raise him instead. He would probably do better with you anyway—you could actually help him with his education and his livelihood. What good is a dropout-turned-yakuza thug anyway?

“Even if that’s the truth, that doesn’t change the fact that you, Iwai Munehisa, are my dad. And I’m your son.”

Wow. You really felt like you shouldn’t be here at this moment—you’re ruining it. Quietly, you try (and fail miserably) to sneak off to the kitchen to grab more wine because stars above know that you need it. There are hushed words shared between the two of them, low enough that even straining your hearing doesn’t permit you to distinguish anything. Their much-needed talk goes on for quite some time, allowing you to inadvertently snoop through your surroundings. There are a few pictures of him and Kaoru on the fridge from fishing trips and school events, as well as a math exam that has a red one hundred one circled. It’s clear to you that whatever had been weighing down on Munehisa never stopped him from loving his son, just chucked the boy away in a vault to be safe from the dangers of his past.

Voices are still indistinguishable, that is, until you hear Iwai’s voice raising nearly to the volume of the thunder outside. “Don’t make me ground you, kid,” but the threat seems empty to you as Kaoru walks away laughing.

“Goodnight, mom-san!” You spit the Cabernet you were holding in your mouth back into your glass—a gross visual and even grosser to actually do.

“Kaoru!” Munehisa stands up in a half-assed attempt to chase his son. He stops in front of the kitchen, drooping his head before looking at the embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Sorry about that.”

“I-I should go, shouldn’t I?” The weapons dealer just shakes his head.

“I’s fine,” he mumbles, “let me get ya some clothes to sleep in.” Iwai disappears temporarily, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your now nearly empty glass of red wine while he shuffles about in his room. He’s not gone for long, not nearly long enough as you would’ve liked to attempt to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” you mumble quietly as he sets the clothes on the counter.

“I should be thanking you,” Munehisa replies, grey eyes locked on yours. He looks like he wants to say something more, a giveaway from the way he licks his lips. “So it really doesn’t bother you, huh?” Absentmindedly, you pick the clothes off the counter, holding them between your hands while you finger a loose thread on the oversized tee. Anything to avoid the intense gaze in his normally stone-cold eyes.

Lava felt cooler than his gaze.

“Why should it? It’s not who you are anymore, right?” You can’t bring yourself to look at him right now. He’s too intense, too wild and free from the chains of his past. Iwai Munehisa is a loose cannon now, no longer needing to hide any part of himself.

“So then what’s got you so scared you can’t look me in the eye?” When you say nothing in response, he bounds closer to you until he’s towering over you much like he did during your first meeting. Long, surly digits wrap around your chin and jaw until you’re met with his steely eyes. Though, maybe steel isn’t a proper comparison. Steel is typically cold, and his irises are anything but. The man before you had just had a catharsis, like coal had been heated and pressurized and revealing the birth of brand-new diamonds. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not scared,” his voice is husky, thicker than his usually brusque tone.

“I’m not scared,” your words barely pass your lips, but do not waver with trepidation. There was no reason to be scared, not of Munehisa. Scared of the fact that he’s standing so close to you while he cradled your jaw? Absolutely. Frightened slightly by the way his face cautiously edges closer and closer to yours until the overwhelming scent of gun powder and alcohol floods your senses? Check. Terrified of the fact that you are incredibly turned on knowing he could probably snap your neck in a heartbeat?

Hell yes.

“I’m not scared, Mune,” you repeat, reprising the use of his shorter name. It sounds different coming from your mouth, he subconsciously notes. Back in his yakuza days, that name was sinful—a reminder of his reputation. But from your lips, it sounded heavenly.

“I am,” is all he responds with before slotting his lips over yours. Warm and pliable, is the first thought that comes to your mind, much like modeling clay that had been worked between your fingers. Contrary to everything that screams ‘Iwai Munehisa’, his kiss is gentle—experimenting to feel every layer of fragile skin of your lips against his own. Shy, tender, and tentative, Iwai moves his fingers from your chin to wrap an arm around your waist.

Delicate was never a word that you think of to describe Iwai Munehisa. Or maybe delicate wasn't the right word—fragile? It made sense in your train wreck of a mind from the way he sucked in his breath through is nose as your fingers cupped his cheeks. So fragile, as if he were going to break from such a gentle action that he needed to pull away before he crumbled.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Iwai breathes, taking three steps back like you’d suddenly come down with the plague.

“Wha—no it’s—“

“You should get some sleep kid,” before you can say anything else, the weapons dealer has already fled down the hallway and locking the door to the bathroom and leaving you to your own devices. Between pursed lips, you grab the empty glasses that you shared and washed them quickly before grabbing the clothes you carelessly tossed on the floor. From the bathroom, you hear the water running accompanied by wordless grumbles.

Munehisa’s room is exactly how you pictured it. Simple and clean with no superlatives. The bed is made nearly hotel style—like the room hadn’t been lived in for years. Considering the catharsis that he had gone through tonight, part of you wonders just how many of his days he had spent watching every second like it was going to be his last, rather than being in the moment.

Alive and a life are two very different things.

As expected, you drown in the fabric he’s given you—expected from someone twice your height and overall size. They’re comfy, you note, the warmth of the masses combating the springtime storms. Robotically, you check your phone for the time—the clock inching towards midnight to Sunday. From routine alone, you knew that Kaoru didn’t have school tomorrow and you and Munehisa had a later start to your day thanks to your part-timers’ availability.

Before you have the chance to think twice, you’re back on your bare feet, all but stomping towards the living room to where Munehisa lays facing towards the sliding door, staring at the rain. He heard you—he had to have. There’s no way he can’t hear the deafening silence of your own revelation; he has to know. “Go to bed, [name],” he bites with no fire.

“No.”

“Then go home.”

“No.”

Iwai throws the thin blanket he has on himself off as he thrusts his legs off the couch. Every movement is silently violent until he’s hunched over you for the second time tonight. Despite every intention of holding malice in his eyes, he can’t when it comes to you. Not when you’re wearing his clothes and looking up at him with a resolve stronger than his self-loathing. “What do ya want then, [name]?” He asks quietly, echoing the question he had for you three weeks ago.

“Honestly?” You start off, unraveling your arms that were wound around your chest. “I would like for you to let go.”

For a moment, Iwai is taken aback—literally, as signified by the half step he takes towards the couch and away from you. It’s not quite a moment of fear in his eyes; more of an amalgam of questioning and begging—of longing.

The hunter has become the hunted.

“Just let it go, Mune. Your son already forgives you for your past, you need to do the same.” Much to your surprise, a laugh jumbled with a grunt heaves off his chest. The trepidation from earlier is gone, evident by the way his shoulders and chin straighten up from standing erect.

“Let go, huh? You sure you want that?” The double meaning isn’t lost on you, and you’re ready for whatever he throws your way. You’d been ready, you realize, from the moment your fear took a back seat to wanting to aid Kaoru in any way that you could. You’d been ready since the moment you picked up the phone and had him meet you in Kichijouji. Or maybe, you had forgiven him already—not that you necessarily had a place to do so—the moment he had started shifting his focus into being there for his son. It was all you had ever wanted from your family, maybe it wasn’t too late to save other kids from the pain.

Maybe your unresolved daddy issues run much deeper than you thought.

However, Iwai wasn’t much better. He had been so vehemently adamant that if he pretended to be a questioningly upstanding citizen, Kaoru would have a better chance at making it in the world. The grotesque nature of his own upbringing had left him longing for someone—anyone—to unconditionally accept him. No matter how much he told himself the yakuza had welcomed him with open arms, he knows that it was their opportunity to thread his marionette strings. And the society he was surrounded in had blockaded him so long ago, he clutched and grasped at broken straws.

But not you, no. Despite him easily being able to snap your neck and hide your body, you stood toe to toe with him, always ready to fight back without a moment’s hesitation. With you, there was no stigma attached to his name, only knowledge and understanding and an empathy that transcended and smashed through every wall of his.

An unconditional acceptance.

An unconditional love.

Iwai’s mommy issues ran deep, maybe even a little steeper than yours.

“I’m not scared, Mune,” you repeated, pulling him from his reverie that blasted at meters per second. “I have no reason to be.” With large strides, as one would expect of his size, Iwai crosses through the distance he had out between the two of you before grasping at your jaw with finesse and hunger all at once to lock his lips with yours once again. It had been a long time since the weapons dealer had actively sought out the object of his affections; his own desires had taken a back seat for the well-being of his son.

All that was left of him now was depravity and desperation.

Even those two elements to his core were not going to last long. Not with the way you were clutching onto him so tightly with your arms wound around his neck. Despite the flames of hunger constantly being stoked by mere touch, Iwai’s lips are just as gentle and hesitant as they had been before you changed your clothing. It was clear to you that you were going to need to guide the weapons dealer—much as you had been the last month or so. Your tongue cautiously snakes out from your mouth, gingerly running along the seam of his lips to ask for gentle permission.

Things may be moving fast, but you didn’t want to rush this. Not with Munehisa. Not with the man who was so foreign to genuine affection.

Tentatively, Iwai parts his lips ever so slightly, allowing you access to the first layer of him. Candy. He tastes like the cherry sucker he had in his mouth just after dinner to accompany his whiskey. A mixture of smoke and sweetness with a lasting bitterness sounded as if Iwai had decomposed and turned into mere flavor receptors of the tongue. But it’s a taste you find yourself wanting more of as your tongue dances alongside his.

At a snail’s pace, Iwai releases your cheeks and jaw, sliding his palms down the goose bumps on your neck and soft expanse of your arms until they find purchase on your hips. The gesture is cautious, even as he coaxes your body towards him until he falls back onto the couch, bringing you with until you’re left to straddle him.

“Scared, Mune?” You ask in a whisper when you come up for air. Disregarding the need for oxygen, you make it a point to keep your lips ghosting over his, showing the desire to remain connected to him. His eyes are half-open, heavy lids drooping and the crinkles of his crow’s feet are settling in as he attempts to catch his breath—all with the faintest twinge of a grin.

“Should I be?”

“That’s for you to decide.” One of his hands maneuvers its way from your waist, back up to your cheek to cup the skin in full. Perhaps you were more aware from the intimacy of the fact that his hand nearly could hold an entire half of your face or the calcification of hardened skin on his palms, or perhaps your body had slowly come to tune itself to the man beneath you.

“I think I’ve been alone for long enough.” The distance between the both of you closes once again, Iwai’s movements renewed by fire followed by another clash of lightning. His grip on your waist tightens as he sinks you further into him, grinding his pelvis into yours as if granting permission to touch him more. Planting your hands on his chest, you take a moment to graze the backs of your nails gingerly along the openings of his tank top.

You think back to your joke about him watching his figure when you first met him, and silently berate yourself.

Iwai Munehisa didn’t need to watch his figure—he’s a literal statue of Adonis come to life.

Hard muscle twitches under every touch of yours in conjunction with the occasional throaty groan that rumbles along your lips. His tongue is somehow both rushing to explore every nook and cranny and crooked edge of your teeth while simultaneously attempting to commit every inch of your mouth to memory. Despite the loss of his hands on your waist, the sudden cold rush of air swirling around your midriff is a welcome sensation as his calloused digits working their up your body from under the shirt. Your entire body erupts with need—it was no longer a want or a mere whim. You needed this man in every way.

In hopes to urge Iwai further, you break apart momentarily to remove the borrowed clothing from the upper half of your body, leaving you bare chested in front of the weapons dealer. “Fuck,” he mumbles, pupils turning to pinpricks as he drinks in the sight of your slightly erect nipples. Like a man hypnotized, his lips latch on to your left breast, licking and sucking at the flesh as your head tosses back. The motion causes you to grind further into his lap, greeting his clothed erection with a welcome reminder of your presence.

You had never been one for a ton of oral attention, but there was something so damn mesmerizing about Iwai holding a nipple between his teeth while he rolled the nub with his expert tongue. Part of you wonders if it has something to do with the suckers. Another part of you only thinks to let out a sharp hiss of breath as he tends to your right nipple next. “M-Mune,” you whimper, earning another grind of his covered cock against your damp folds, “l-lemme touch you.”

“Hold on a sec, baby, I’m a little busy.”

Your brain goes into overdrive as he frees a hand from holding you up to dipping into the front of your borrowed pajamas bottoms, nails scraping along the waistband of your panties. The thought of Iwai getting closer and closer still coaxed a moan from your lips; or maybe it was the way he goaded your nipple to complete erection. Maybe it was both—maybe it was the way he made it a point to tease by inspecting the wet spot in your panties with two fingers.

“M-Mune, please.”

“All nice an’ wet for me, baby? Lemme just double check.” Even with you still straddling and trying force yourself closer to him, Iwai managed to sneak his fingers past your knickers until he’s met with a sloppy, slick cunt. His half-lidded gaze up at you was laser-focused—as if he couldn’t look anywhere else but your own lust-laden eyes. The pads of his fingers glide along your slit before slightly nudging apart your opening to get a real feel for you. The mere thought of touching you, rubbing your clit until you screamed, cumming and gushing around his fingers—Iwai can’t even remember the last time such thoughts crossed his mind, let alone turned him on so much.

He wants to take his time, he realizes,

Iwai’s touch sends a thousand volts up your spine, causing the tension in your neck to throw your head back as you hissed in pleasure. His middle finger searches every nook and cranny of your nether regions, smearing your excitement all around until no area is left untouched. While he’s preoccupied with exploring you, you reciprocate the treatment with dizzy kisses, unabashedly sliding your tongue against his while your fingers tugged at his tank top. He’s only slightly annoyed that the two of you have to pause so that you can pull the fabric off—a small sacrifice to further progress. The second he’s freed from one of his prisons, his brittle lips latch onto your left collarbone, teeth sinking in to be chased by his tongue while leaving reminders of the moment. At the same time, his ring and middle finger circle your clit in a steady, languid rhythm, coaxing more of your wetness to come forth until you’re absolutely drenched. “O-oh, f-fuck Munehisa!”

Hearing his name made his groin throb beneath you, the pulsing wet, hot warmth tantalizing and torturing you both. Giving your clit one last swirl, his fingers travel further downward, pushing apart your lips until he slowly nestles his middle finger inside your sopping wet hole. His digits are much larger than your own, you noted immediately—his longest finger alone already stretching you more deliciously than your tiny infantile hands. “Ohh, fuck yeah, baby. I’on’t even gotta stretch you out with how fuckn’ wet ya are for me.”

“But I want you to,” Iwai lets out his signature gruff laugh before jamming his finger deep into you with no warning. The lone digit is roaming, exploring your deepest caverns to figure out the fastest way to make you go from zero to hundred. “Mune, it feels so good.” All the praise goes from his ears straight to his dick, the flesh between the two of you now painfully straining against his thin boxers.

After a few twists and turns, Iwai brings his pointer finger to the party, the duo now on the hunt for that squishy tissue to send you over the edge. He refused to fuck you until you came at least once—he couldn’t disappoint you. Not now, not after all the progress you two had overcome together. Crooking both digits, his nails finally find their target, scraping along your g-spot that makes you tremble and your muscles spasm. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he croons.

You wished he gave you a better warning—a sufficient warning for the relentless attack his fingers had on your g-spot or the way the angle of his wrist was shamelessly scrubbing at your clit. The muscles in your legs can no longer maintain their terse nature, dropping the suspension you had in his lap slightly to give better access to your nether regions. Even still, Iwai couldn’t stop now. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Mune, fuck fuck fuck fuck holy shit I’m gonna—“

“Just let go, baby,” his voice is sardonically sweet despite his damn near malicious actions. A third finger joins the rest of the digits mercilessly pounding away at your insides, stretching you beyond what you were used, while your abused clit cried for him to stop. That cry coming in the form of your walls squeezing around his fingers until a gush of fluid secretes itself onto his palm. Thanks to the breakneck speed of his movements and the sheer force of your orgasm, your release sprays all onto his bare chest and the waistband of his boxers, even parts of his face. “God damn, woman,” he pants out, a new hunger forming in the pit of his belly. Despite you trying to catch your breath, Iwai pulls his fingers from your core and wraps his soaked hand behind your neck and crushes your lips to his.

Tasting yourself on him is a strangely delightful experience. The slight saltiness of your emission mixed with the signature musk of his skin and sweetness from an overdose of suckers has you groaning throatily into the kiss. Shamelessly your pelvis grinds into his, rubbing his proud, protruding covered cock along your tingling slit. His hands move from where they are holding you against your neck and hips, hooking into the waistband of your borrowed bottoms before pulling them off of your lower half. It’s tricky to maneuver with the way he refuses to stop kissing you—he can’t stop, he learns—but he manages to guide the clothing off of you somehow.

The only thing separating the two of you now was thin, soaked boxers and your last chance to walk away from one another.

Not that you would.

Instead, you hook your claws into the elastic of his boxers, suspending yourself above his lap momentarily to slide the fabric past his knees. Your soaked entrance slides along the length of him, greeting him with lubricant. Iwai grits his teeth as you do so, throwing his head back before he pulls your head down to rest your forehead against his sweaty skin. His grey eyes bore straight into yours, electricity sparking between the two of you. “Y-ya sure, [name]?”

Rather than answer, you swivel your hips to slide his cock in before slamming the entirety of his girth inside you in one fell swoop. In hindsight, that was probably a bad idea with the way you can feel the mushroom head of his weeping cock knocking at your cervix or the way the width of his cock stretches you even further than three of his massive fingers. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You howl and sob, head thrown back as you nearly sob from the intrusion. Through heavy pants, Munehisa anchors your hips in place so that you can’t pull away, no matter how torturous for the both of you.

“Just stay still, baby, don’t move.”

“M-Mune, it hurts.”

“Well nobody told ya to shove my whole dick in at once, idiot,” the two of you share a laugh for a moment before he guides you to rest on his chest while your cunt stretched and acclimated to his dick.

“I-I wanted to,” you whimper as he shifts ever so slightly, the curls of his pubis scraping along your thighs.

“Yeah, baby? You wanted to? That why you started hanging around my kid—to try to get daddy’s dick?” His salacious words cause your walls to pulsate around him, squeezing him further in and making him groan at the contraction. “That’s it, isn’t it? Naughty lil girl, you don’t deserve my mercy.” His large hands, wrapping every square centimeter of your hips, began to jostle you in a way to rub your skin together before they start lifting you up in his lap. It’s a reprieve, almost, having his large cock begin to withdraw until his hands force your pelvis back down onto him.

“M-Mune,” you whine, “still hurts.” But the curses and cries do nothing to slow down his rhythm. If anything, Munehisa plants his feet on the tatami mats below him to thrust himself further up into you every time he brought your hips back down. The lightning and thunder painting the sky past the sliding door is merely a full thought, each violent thrust of his cock much more noticeable than nature’s storm.

“Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll go a little easier on you!” He howls, no longer giving a shit if Kaoru heard the lewd slapping of his heavy ballsack against your skin or the breathless cries leaving your lungs. Okay, that was a lie, he did care. But it was more of a subconscious thought buried at the back of his mind that was drowned out by the mere thought of stuffing you full of his cum. The idea alone was enough to drown out the wordless babbles leaving your mouth in accompaniment to the drool dripping from the seam of your lips. “Gonna take my cum like a good girl, baby?”

“Y-yes, please! Please!” You warble, squeezing your walls around his thick cock like a vice. His thrusts are relentless, his hips skyrocketing towards your limp body that can no longer stand his brutality. Iwai’s head is thrown back once again as you collapse forward, your body too numb as your second orgasm begins to wrack through, allowing you to nestle into his bare throat. “‘M so close, Mune.” Your bones are turning to jelly, you notice, as you snake your hands towards your clit for the final push.

Well, attempt to anyway.

Iwai smacks your hand away with blinding speed, thrusts slowing down a fraction as he does so before his hand replaces yours on your nub. “Only I get to make you cum from now on, got it?”

“Then hurry up and fucking do it!” You howl, sinking your teeth into whatever parts of his flesh you can reach. The pads of three of his fingers are relentlessly scrubbing away at your clit, a mixture of both of your slop spraying over the both of you. “Oh god yes, right there! Right there!”

“Fuck!” Iwai sobs as his balls tighten before flooding your pussy with his cum, his thrusts becoming languid as he sees his release all the way through. At the same time, the throbbing of his dick while he cums resonates within your walls, amplifying the rush of him attacking your clit. “Mm, come on, baby, I can feel it. Cum for me, fucking cum for me.” You aren’t sure what exactly does you over—if it’s his gently softening, massive cock still twitching inside you or the way his digits know just how to play with your bundles of nerves or the way he called you “baby”— but your body tenses one last time as the blue hue of lightning fills the living room.

“Munehisa,” your voice comes as a broken trill, though his name is clear as day, as you release one last time, a waterfall running and soaking his fingers. Proud of his work, Iwai slows his pace down until his fingers are moving dully to bring you down from your overstimulation. The both of you are panting and sweating, nearly half-dead from the exhaustion.

“C’mere, baby,” he purrs in your ear after god knows how many minutes passed. You hiss when he carefully removes his flaccid length from within you, globs of cum dripping from your walls. Without thinking, Iwai takes two fingers to catch the loose emission and stuffs it back inside you for good measure. He never asked if you were on any form of contraceptive—part of him almost hopes that you aren’t. “Lemme clean ya up a lil.”

“Mm, can’t move.” Munehisa chuckles, wrapping his large hands around your thighs before hoisting the both of you up. Despite the action being chaste, your whole abused body tingles at the movement. He carries the both of you towards the bathroom, setting you down on the narrow space of the vanity before untangling your koala-like limbs from his body. Without saying anything, he grabs a washcloth, running it under the tap and wipes away the loose cum that’s already starting to dry and crust over.

It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, the way his grey eyes have grown cold, and it seems he’s hyper focused on cleaning your skin as best he can. You elect to ignore the fact that he’s making damn sure not to let any cum that’s sitting in your pussy out. Even after he’s cleaned you and himself off, the two of you are lingering in the bathroom in silence, unsure of who should speak first. It seemed it would have to be you. Again.

Finally finding strength in your gelatinous state, you hop off the vanity, grabbing one of Munehisa’s large hands and lead him back out to his room.

“I should sleep on the couch,” he says quietly, though he makes no motion to get up from where both of your naked bodies are pressed on the tops of the sheets. You only shake your head in reply, holding onto his hand even tighter.

“I don’t care if it was dirty talk or what,” you start, recalling the salacious title Munehisa granted himself, “but I have no ill intention towards Kaoru or you. So as long as you let me keep coming around you both, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.” He’s quiet for a moment, eyes darkening at he stares at the floor in contemplation. When he says nothing, you try again. “Will you let me stay, Mune?” The weapons dealer’s head snaps towards you. How the fuck had just his name come to have such a bewitching hold on him? Had it always sounded so pretty? So loved?

It was it just because it was from your lips?

“If I let you stay, I might not let you go.”

“I never said to let me go.”

[bang-tan-bitches]

MONSTER MASH 2020 ENTRY 3

Room Service

Waves hit the shoreline as Y/N scuttles quickly down the sidewalk that borders the beach. Her front desk job at the Hotel Corll is waiting to meet her at the end of the walkway. Light posts slowly line just ahead, then besides, and then behind her, flickering on as the sun sets and the icy fog rolls inland. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N catches a glimpse of a freshly printed missing persons poster, with bold Arial black letters in contrast to the young pretty redhead with a coy smile, blue eyes peering back. She considers the expense of printing in color ink then moves on. She was already late getting out of her clinicals as it were. As she rounds up onto the hotel property she takes in the sleek lines and wooden facade of the luxury hotel, hoping tonight isn’t as busy as yesterday. She could barely keep her eyes open during her clinicals today, earning a scolding from her nursing professor much to the amusement of her fellow classmates. Bunch of morons.

​“Took you long enough!” A voice rings out as Y/N steps into the lobby. Her coworker Soohyun is waiting with a grin, coat on and purse in hand, for her to approach the desk so she could finally go home. The lobby is as intimidatingly large as it is cold. Cream marble floors lead up to the dark oak front desk, with wooden columns lined in neat even rows between the entrance and where Y/N will be standing for the rest of the night. Vaulted ceilings seem to encase the room, a remnant from the hotel prior to renovations. Though the fireplace casts a glow from the sitting area, it is difficult to penetrate the natural draftiness of the building, though its easy to blame it on the shoreline the hotel sits on.

​“Jungkook is actually already here, just had to go use the restroom,” Soohyun scoots to let Y/N place her schoolbag into the employee cubby under the desk. “Was pretty quiet today, so should be an easy night, though I’m surprised you didn’t just call off sick. You look…how do I say this, ghastly?” Y/N stands back up, pouting at the comment.

​“I would, but rent’s comin’ up soon, and you know my roommate always slacks on her half,” she says as she logs in for the start of her shift. “I’ll survive. Besides, I’m off tomorrow. I’ll just sleep in then.”

​“Alright, your choice,” Soohyun responds. “Any case, I’ll see you in the morning! Good night!”

​Her heels clack on the floor as Soohyun struts her way out of the building, posh bag in hand and not a hair out of place despite the end to a long shift. Y/N looks positively bedraggled in comparison, her flats scuffed badly on the sides and a small stain on her shirt from her attempt at chugging her coffee before getting on the bus. As she swipes in with her master key, Jungkook steps behind the desk, returning from the restroom.

​“Hey Jungkook, how’s it goin’?” Y/N asks. Jungkook just nods his head and grunts in response, doe eyes half-lidded as he quietly prepares for the shift. He is a quiet man who attends the same school that she does, though he is studying photography. Stoic and observant, he only speaks as needed, but is a hard worker and is always at the ready to tend to guest needs. Standing at his computer station, his lean height towering over Y/N, he prints out the list of remaining check ins for the night.

​“We have two VIP guests tonight. Looks like Mr. Jung extended his weeklong stay in the Hindley Suite for another night. He requested extra towels for his stay tonight. Kim Namjoon has not checked in yet though he did call to let us know he will probably be checking in late.” Jungkook reads off monotonously from his computer screen.

​“Looks like Miss Lim left a note, she says the Holmolka suite is not available to be rented out? Ah geez, did somebody trash it last night?” Y/N crumples up the pale-yellow post it that was stuck on her computer screen and tosses it in the trash.

​“Seems so,” he deadpans.

​Miss Lim is the long-time owner of the Hotel Corll, a heavy smoker with too strong Chanel No. 5 seeping from her body and too red lipstick trying to make up for lost time. With a plastic personality that matches her new nose and lips, she is a real piece of work. At least the job pays well. That reminder has served Y/N well in her comparatively shorter time working at the hotel. Nothing like the hospitality industry to suck the life out of everyone that deals with it. Miss Lim’s gaudiness reflects in her property from the gold painted- furniture to the overly lavish light fixtures that look like a Versailles fantasy from hell. However, this seems to not be a detriment to the establishment’s business. In fact, despite appearances, the hotel gained a small, loyal, and wealthy following due to the hotel’s strict confidentiality code. It has done well for Y/N’s pockets.

​About an hour after the night shift began, Seokjin, the head housekeeper, and Yoongi, the live-in handyman, walk into the lobby wearily. Their eyes are drooping in exhaustion. Seokjin’s blonde tresses gleam as several pieces of hair are left in disarray. Yoongi takes his cap off to run his well-worn hand through his hair and then returns the hat to its original position. They both make their way to signing out of work, looking as if they were both asked to run a marathon.

​“Are you two just leaving now?” Y/N asks. She looks a bit puzzled that both employees are still on the clock even though their shifts usually ended two hours earlier.

​“Had to finish essentially rebuilding the Homolka suite,” utters Yoongi. “Took damn near all day to complete.”

​“The guests from last night absolutely decimated the room, you’d have thought they were raised with by wolves!” Seokjin exclaimed. His irritation was agreed upon by Yoongi with a harumph. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got to get home and soak my feet,” he continues. “I think they have earned their reward. Good night!” And with exhausted feet, he slowly wobbles out of the building. Yoongi simply waves his hand goodbye and makes his way to one of the two elevators to go up to his small room.

​As the evening wears on, more guests straggle in through the hotel doors and up to the front desk. The quiet mumbles of guests checking in, ringing credit cards through the clerking system to confirm their reservations, and authorizing payment becomes the soundtrack to Y/N’s evening. The monotony and false smiles are what’s getting her through the evening. At nine o’clock the long-awaited VIP guest Mr. Kim Namjoon steps through the hotel’s door. He walks up to the front desk with an even and patient gait. A false smile sits on his plush lips though it fails to reach his eyes. Like cold fisheyes Y/N thinks. Jungkook and Y/N both stand to attention, almost as if preparing to be disciplined by the school principal. With stillness and silence, Mr. Kim reaches Y/N’s section of the front desk. He always did prefer young women. The more impressionable the better.

​“Good evening Mr. Kim, how may I help you?” Y/N asks. A shiver of trepidation slithers up her spine. His handsome face just serves to accentuate the fear.

​“Just checking in, and how are you this evening?” Mr. Kim responds, the partial smile never slipping off his face. Y/N voices her learned pleasantries and decides at that moment she never wants to be caught alone unawares by this man. She takes the black card from his proffered hand to finish the check in process, the sooner the better.

​“This is the Lalaurie suite, correct?” he asks. “And to confirm, can you please make sure the complimentary room service is added to my reservation? There was a mix-up the previous time I stayed here and wouldn’t want a repeat of that, would we?” His tone says amicable and easy going, but his eyes say otherwise. His eyes convey zero tolerance for mistakes.

​“Yes, of course Mr. Kim, anything for our most loyal guest. Is there anything else you would like added to the reservation?” Y/N weakly inquires.

​“No, not at all. Oh, and I have a guest with me on this reservation, though she will be arriving later. Please call my room when she does.” And with that, Mr. Kim takes his room key and makes his way to his preferred suite. Y/N releases a sigh of relief as Jungkook’s shoulders visibly relaxes. He still says nothing.

​The night continues as a typical and quiet one for both front desk employees. Jungkook receives requests for extra towels and bathroom amenities which he delivers every so often while Y/N begins the night audit for the hotel. That is until the two figures enter the hotel and disrupt what was supposed to be a normal evening. They are covered in head to toe blue, their badges visible as is their handguns on their waists. Both men step up to Jungkook’s side of the desk. Great, the cops are here.

​“Officer Park, how may I help you?” Jungkook asks with the usual lack of enthusiasm. Of the two policemen in the hotel, Officer Park Jimin is a recognizable face amongst the staff as he is an acquaintance of Miss Lim. Or one of her many lovers as Soohyun loves to put it. Between his cocksure expression, his flirtatious demeanor, or an ass designed to fill out tight pants, the sentiment is not too far of a stretch for Y/N to believe. As for the other cop, neither Y/N nor Jungkook have ever seen the officer before. With a knowing glance between the hotel employees and Jimin, this does not bode well. And they all know it.

​“Hello, I am Officer Kim Taehyung, and apparently you seem to already know Officer Park,” Taehyung supplies with a suspicious glare thrown Park’s way. “We’re here as we’ve received an anonymous call about this place yesterday. Seems some folks happened to have been walking outside the hotel and happened to hear screaming and pleading from an open window. Would either of you happen to know anything about it?” Taehyung shifts his gaze between Jungkook and Y/N in expectation. They are more screwed than they previously thought.

​“No.” Jungkook replies as succinct as possible.

​“No,” Officer Kim straightens up and forces his shoulders back, eyebrows furrowing. His demeanor is growing more aggravated by the second. “That’s it huh? Hey, what about you?” He throws out to Y/N, who makes it a point to match Jungkook’s countenance closely. “You see anything suspicious at all?”

​“Nope, I wasn’t even working yesterday. Been off all week,” she lies through her teeth. “But, if you need to speak to the owner, you can give us your name and number and we can relay the information to her.”

​“See I would, but the girl who we came to speak to yesterday gave me the same bullshit and now I’m here again. So, I will ask one more time, what do you two know about whoever that was screaming bloody murder on your property?” says Taehyung.

​“We don’t know anything,” supplies Y/N. “Now unless you got a warrant or something, I going to have to ask you to leave. Now.” Her lips purse in barely retained frustration. She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin defiantly. She refuses to be cowed by this fool. She has encountered much worse than the likes of him.

​“You know you two could get in big trouble for lying to an officer of the law, right?” Taehyung encroaches into Y/N’s space, face molded into a sneer, dark eyes peering into hers. He was a man used to getting what he wanted. However, before he could go any further, Jimin steps in.

​“Hey, come one Tae, she’s got a point, no warrant not much we can do. And besides, you know Chief told us to drop this. Let’s go.”

​Although Officer Kim looks prepared to argue, with his partner standing down, he knows he will have to leave and regroup before anything further happens.

​“Fine,” he relents, “but I will be seeing you again. The both of you.” And with heavy steps he exits the building, fury pulsing through his body. Jimin hangs back.

​“It might be time for the boss lady to start pulling her connections for that one,” he throws his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at his partner. “Could be trouble if it isn’t nipped in the bud.” Park tips his hat, winks at Y/N, and leaves, easygoing and stride confident. Perv.

​Jungkook picks up the phone as soon as the officers leave, speed dialing Miss Lim with the update. She picks up on the first ring, fully aware of Officer Kim’s previous visit. Her words are difficult for Y/N to hear through the receiver. Despite not hearing the words, she can tell her employer is instructing Jungkook to navigate through the clerking system to look up the previous occupant of the suite. It was the Holmolka suite. With a few clicks here and there, it looks like the Mrs. Ushakova that rented the room on the aforementioned date is added to the Do Not Rent list, all her guest privileges cleared and an alert placed on her account. Mistakes as done by Mrs. Ushakova are not allowed by establishments such as the Hotel Corrl, where silence and confidentiality are sacred dogma. Her indiscretions come with repercussions. Jungkook hangs the phone up.

​With the hours flowing by, the previous lethargy felt by Y/N has now been replaced with worry due to the police’s visit. She hopes that the remainder of the night shift can continue as normal. Though that remains to be seen, as Mr. Kim’s guest now arrives. Y/N has seen her face before. In fact, she just saw her this morning, at St. Francis for her clinical rotation. The girl giggled particularly obnoxiously, in-light of Y/N’s reprimand via their professor. She just can’t seem to remember the girl’s name for the life of her. She must be more tired than she realized.

​“Call Mr. Kim’s room, he should’ve mentioned that I was supposed to be arriving.” she hadn’t even made it all the way to the front desk before she starts haughtily commanding the employees to do her bidding. Jungkook takes this as his cue to simply crouch low under the desk as if he were searching for something. He isn’t. As the girl reaches Y/N, she lays one well-manicured hand on the large oak desk while leaning on the other one. She examines her nails as though she was contemplating different acrylic shades that can replace her current pearlescent one. Y/N hesitates for a beat, a sliver of concern for her classmate becoming more discernible after another second. Unfortunately for her, the girl notices, her eyes flicking upwards.

​“Hello? I said I was expected, shouldn’t you be notifying him?” she asks, her snobbishness a blatant fixture on her person.

​After another missed beat, Y/N clicks through her computer program. She is aware of exactly who this girl is, and as such, dithers her way around the clerking system. She can’t just let her classmate go to Mr. Kim’s room, can she?

​“Sorry, he doesn’t seem to be checked in, are you sure this Mr. Kim is staying here?” Y/N asks. Jungkook side-eyes her from below, still looking for nothing.

​The girl narrows her stare, scrutinizing the female operating the front desk. Realization dawns on her as she smirks. She fails to read the near-imploring gaze her classmate working the computer gives her, a sign of precaution.

​“Oh, I know you. You’re that dumbass from this morning! At St. Francis Hospital? The one that went into the wrong patient’s room and tried to give her the wrong medication? I remember you,” the girl’s smirk expands. “Now you see, I know my date for the night is here, I have it right here in his texts,” She brings her phone up as if to show Y/N the incriminating evidence. “And I don’t think it would do so well for your job here if I just call him and let him know that you of all people are stopping him from getting my services for the night, would it? How about this, you don’t stop me from doing my job and I will make sure you don’t lose yours!” She flips her hair with a flourish. Y/N pauses for a moment, a sickeningly sweet smile appearing on her mouth.

​“Ah, it seems I have made a mistake, he has already checked in.” A few extra clicks on the computer and a newly scanned room key later, she picks up the hotel phone to make a call up to the Lalaurie suite.

​“Mr. Kim, your guest is here, shall I send her on up?” With Mr. Kim’s confirmation delivered, Y/N delivers her classmate to his suite, hospitality in full swing.

#​#​#

​ A few minutes after 3 o’clock in the morning, the front desk phone rings. Y/N is reading a chapter in her textbook about proper bedside manner whereas Jungkook is playing solitaire on his computer. Like second nature he picks up the receiver. Mr. Jung is calling. With little being said, Jungkook turns to his colleague.

​“Hey, Mr. Jung wants his extra towel service now, you think you could do it?”

​“Sure, gotta get away from this book or I might go cross-eyed.” She replies. She takes her master key and walks towards the elevator down the hall. She presses the glass button, standing in front of the elevator doors, a tacky reflective emerald green coating the doors as she waits. She looks up at the electronic number screen above the doors, the numbers still descending, five, four, three, two, one. A ding sounds out as the doors slide open and Y/N steps in, pressing for the twelfth floor, where the most important guests stay. When the doors reopen, this time many stories above ground, she takes a left down the hallway where in a small corridor next to the elevator is a well-maintained utility closet. To provide Mr. Jung his towel service, she grabs a laundry bin, a couple plastic tarps, several bottles of bleach, gloves, and many white fluffy towels made from the finest Egyptian cotton. Only quality at the Corll. Bin in hand, Y/N rolls the container down the hallway, past the elevator to one of the only three rooms on this level. Arms going jiggly from pulling the cart to its designated location she finally stops in front of the Kemper suite, Mr. Jung Hoseok’s room. She knocks on the door three times, and before a fourth one rings out, Hoseok swings the door open, blood coating his clothes and body, from his hands to his neck, splatters across his visage.

​“Oh! Thank you! You can put that over here,” he says appreciatively, pointing to a corner of the room next to the flat-screened television. Y/N rolls the bin full of supplies past the lean black haired man, across the blood soaked carpet, past the cold blue corpse lying in a pool of his own liquids, past the California King euro plush mattress to the corner of the room.

​“There you go sir. Now you do know that because you are staying in our Kemper suite you have complimentary room service, right? Are you sure you just want the extra towel service?” she asks doubtfully.

​“No, no, its fine, I always preferred doing my own disposal, I can get it just right that way!” Mr. Jung smiles enthusiastically. With a smile and a nice hundred-dollar tip in hand she looks over at the redhead splayed on the floor, blue eyes staring wide eyed at the ceiling, fear frozen in their features. She looks smaller than she did on her own poster Y/N notes, before tucking the money away and leaving the room.

​She shuts the door behind her and turns towards the elevator when she notices something at the other end of the hall. Someone is crawling. Y/N lets out a deep sigh, tucks her tip into her pocket, and stalks down the hall in exasperation. As she gets closer, she sees its her classmate from before bleeding profusely, begging for help.

​“Please, please help me! I’m- I’m dying!” she gurgles out, sobbing in between her words. Y/N bends down, and huff expelled, grabs the girl’s long hair soaked in her own blood before she starts dragging her back down the hall, back to her client’s door. She screams and cries and begs for her life, but Y/N is unphased, continues dragging her classmate to her doom. Three door knocks echo through the hallway. Namjoon opens the door, perplexed by the sight before him. He is freshly showered, a towel slung low around his hips, water still dripping down his built chest. Cold fisheyes looking back.

​“Sorry to bother you sir, seems you almost lost one.” She calmly says, as she lifts up the girl’s hair as she screams.

​“Ah, my apologies,” he then reaches down into his bag sitting by the door. “I thought I had finished with her. It seems I was incorrect.” With deft fingers he grasps the handle of a large hunting knife from the front pocket of his bag.

​“No! No! Please!! Don’t-!” and with one swift slice, Namjoon swipes the blade through the girl’s throat. She falls forward, death rattle sounding out between her lips.

​“It’s fine Mr. Kim, she couldn’t have made it far anyway.” Y/N asserted.

​“Eh, I still pride myself in thoroughness,” He wipes the knife clean on the towel slung across his hips. “Could you make sure room service comes tomorrow after I have checked out?”

​“Of course, sir, I will make sure to notate that for the morning shift. Have a good rest of your stay.” She bows her head a bit in deference and turns to make her way down the elevator.

#​#​#

​As the morning sun rises, Yoongi makes his way to the hotel lobby for the free coffee and continental breakfast served there. He yawns into the air before grabbing an apple fritter in one hand and black coffee in the other. He turns to Y/N and Jungkook still manning the front desk, counting down the minutes until they can leave. He acknowledges the both of them but before he could go finish his treat Y/N stops him.

​“Yoongi, before I forget, make sure the Lalaurie suite gets room service after Mr. Kim checks out. Its his special request.”

​“Seriously?” he grumbles, “He is always ruining our mattresses! And we then we have to replace them! Last time, the new housekeeper accidentally walked into his suite before he left and he was honest to God cuddling the body! Who does that?” Y/N shrugs in response, her eyes bloodshot. She’s ready for the nap of a lifetime. Before she gets any more exhausted, Soohyun comes in for shift relief. Thank God. Jungkook offers a short update on the cop debacle and after not much longer both employees pack up and walk out the lobby doors.

​Y/N shuffles towards her bus stop down the walkway, adjacent to the beach. She makes it past the light posts fading off, one by one as she walks past them. She walks by the missing persons poster and takes in the crisp clean air. She decides she is going to go home, sleep, and then wake up for a study session. If she wants to eventually be a top-notch nurse, she needs to act the part. She feels the tip money burning a hole through her pocket reminding her of a job well done. It gets messy but the pay is nice.

[patandpran]

The Two of Us

Thank you to the anon that requested an angsty OhmFong fic... this is the result! Hope you enjoy!

Still feel like I need to credit @yangkoogan @gaysarawat @earthfluuke for my obsession with OhmFong... 

At a distance, always at a distance…

Fong was never more than a text or an arm’s length away and yet the distance between Ohm and Fong was vast.

This was especially the case since Tine had started to hang out with them again. His relationship with Sarawat was finally out in the open despite everyone and their dog knowing it was heading in that direction so Tine had more to talk about than just the broody guitar player that he so obviously had feelings for. Fong had been right at Tine’s side throughout this experience, encouraging his friend to follow his feelings rather than his rational thought and worry about judgment from others.

Before they knew Tine, it had just been Ohm and Fong. They had been friends since Ohm could remember but as soon as Tine entered the picture, their relationship fractured somehow. Ohm saw the way that Fong looked at Tine liked he was something precious that could slip away at any moment. Fong had never looked at Ohm that way and that reality felt like a stab right to Ohm’s gut.

Ohm recalled the first time he saw Fong sitting at the edge of the playground, head buried in a book and glasses slipping down his nose. Ohm instantly wanted to know more about the isolated stranger but it took him a few weeks to work up the courage to approach his future best friend. Ohm had approached Fong silently and slowly sat down next to in his usual reading spot. Fong seemed to sense Ohm’s presence and closed his book, cocking his head to the side and looking at Ohm with a mix of curiosity and confusion. When Ohm didn’t know what to say and the silence began to border on awkward, Fong had reached into his schoolbag and pulled out another book and handed it to Ohm. While Ohm had never been a big reader, the gesture was so sweet and a symbol of an offered friendship that Ohm had spent the rest of the lunch break pretending to read while discretely staring at Fong out of the corner of his eye. The rest was history.

After that day, Ohm and Fong were the best of friends. Their parents always teased them about how much time they spent together but it never bothered either of them. They were happy to have one great friend who accepted them and supported them through both the good and the bad times. Fong helped Ohm when he almost failed Math, Ohm was there to hold Fong closely when Fong’s Grandmother passed away, Fong helped Ohm when his parents announced their divorce and Ohm protected Fong when a few of their schoolmates decided that Fong was the perfect punching bag. They were a dynamic duo and never really made a point of trying to connect with other kids their age. They had one another. That was more than enough.

It had been just Ohm and Fong until high school which is where Tine and Phuak came into the picture. Phuak was a new student and basically forced his friendship on Ohm and Fong but Tine had been a different story. Fong noticed Tine by himself one day during a break in classes, wandering around the hallways looking lost and had made a point of approaching Tine. Ohm remembered the interaction as vividly as if it had occurred yesterday because it was the moment that he felt a rift appear between him and Fong.

Fong fell hard and fast for Tine and while he refused to admit it aloud, Ohm saw his friend’s feelings appear the first time Fong saw Tine. During their high school years, Fong tortured himself by watching Tine cycle through girlfriend after girlfriend. Ohm was always sympathetic to Fong’s random mood swings when Tine would introduce another fling to the gang. He made sure to take Fong out for his favourite ice cream on those days to distract his best friend from the sadness he was experiencing because of Tine’s complete ignorance. Ohm wondered how Tine could not see how Fong looked at him but Ohm also never made a point of sharing the reality of Fong’s feelings with Tine.

Ohm did not know how he would be able to navigate the situation if Fong and Tine ever did end up together. The thought made him sick to his stomach, not because he didn’t want Fong to be happy, but because he was the one who should be making Fong happy, not Tine. This secret burned in Ohm’s mind and though it took him many years to recognize that his own feelings for Fong stretched beyond the realm of friendship, he knew that Fong would never feel the same way.

By the time they reached university, Tine was even more on the prowl than he had been in secondary school. When Green started to follow Tine around, Ohm saw how envious Fong looked of Green: how boldly and publicly he was able to declare how he felt about Tine. Fong also was fiercely protective of Tine so the gang’s sole focus became keeping Tine from Green.

While it had never been Ohm’s intention to have the fake dating plan with Sarawat turn into a real relationship, Ohm was pleasantly surprised how much alone time the whole setup gave him and Fong again. Phuak was ever consumed with his Youtube channel so Ohm and Fong were starting to get back to how they were before Tine disrupted everything. As much as Fong seemed to be in distress watching Tine fall for Sarawat, Ohm was there to quietly and discreetly support his friend through the mourning process. Fong had bounced back quicker than Ohm had expected which made him wonder if Fong’s feelings for Tine were beginning to fade.

But now that Tine and Sarawat’s relationship had settled into their honeymoon phase, Tine had noticed how little time he spent with his friends and made a concerted effort to reconnect with the gang. Ohm cursed this sudden change in Tine’s perception as Tine usually could not see past the end of his own nose and usually operated in a rather selfish manner. His relationship with the campus heartthrob seemed to be doing wonders for Tine’s self growth and Fong was going out of his way to spend as much time with Tine as possible, even if it meant changing plans that he and Ohm had had in place for weeks.

Ohm wondered if he would ever have Fong’s full attention. He knew that his best friend would never look at him the way that Ohm wanted but he was grateful for whatever scraps he could get. It sometimes made him feel ridiculous and desperate but Fong was worth the wait, even if they were never more than just best friends.

As long as they were close, Ohm was fine but recently it seemed like Fong was drifting out of reach…

“Ohm.”

It was a rare occasion where Ohm and Fong found themselves alone. They were studying in Fong’s dorm room, each on one side of Fong’s study desk. Ohm had been zoning out overthinking things as he usually did when Fong called him back to the present.

“Ohm, are you feeling okay?” Fong asked and cocked his head to the side in a way that reminded Ohm of their first meeting. “If you need to take a break from studying, we could go grab something to eat before we got to the show later…Tine and Phuak said they’d meet us there.”

“I think I’ll pass.” Ohm muttered, feeling dejected that Tine had already been brought up in the few moments they had together. “I probably need to get as much studying in as I can or I’ll get an earful from the professor.”

“I can make you a study guide.” Fong expressed with a sympathetic look in his eyes. “That way you can come see the show and still feel okay about your exam.”

Ohm dropped his chin into his hands. “You can go to the show without me. It’s fine.”

“Are you running a fever?” Fong put down the textbook that he had been studying on the table and reached across to press a hand to Ohm’s forehead. He bit his lip and sat back down in his chair, “You’re fine. I don’t get it…. why don’t you want to go? There hasn’t been a time where we’ve managed to get the whole gang together for weeks!”

This made Ohm even less interested in going. “I’m fine, Fong. I just need some alone time. I don’t need to be around the gang always like you do….”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Fong was starting to get frustrated. He only ever got this way when he didn’t understand something, otherwise he was usually able to keep his emotions in check.

Ohm wondered how someone as smart as Fong could be so dense. He felt frustration rising in him as well and blurted out, “I don’t need to be around Tine and Phuak all the time. It was better when it was just the two of us.”

Ohm regretted the words as soon as they passed through his lips but knew he would never be able to take them back. In less than two sentences, Ohm worried that he had ruined everything, especially with the blank stare that Fong was giving him.

“I… what do you mean, Ohm?” Fong practically whispered, searching his friend’s eyes for some further explanation or justification for this sudden outburst.

Ohm hung his head in defeat and moved to stand up. “I think it’s best if I just go…”

He moved toward the door to escape the utter humiliation of his ill-received confession. Just as he was about to put his hand on the doorknob, he felt Fong thread his arms under Ohm’s and pull him into a hug from behind. The unexpected contact caused Fong’s breath to hitch in surprise as he felt Fong’s hot breath dance across his shoulder blades.

Fong nuzzled his head into Ohm’s back and murmured, “You can’t go. You don’t get to just leave me. That’s not how this works.”

Ohm’s fists clenched. He knew that Fong meant losing him as a friend and the internal battle of Ohm’s feelings for Fong was at its peak. Ohm knew that Fong just wanted to his best friend and while Fong did not understand what was going on, he still was willing to fight for Ohm which just felt like another stab to Ohm’s gut.

He took a deep breath and slowly turned maneuvered himself sot hat he was facing Fong. Fong’s arms were still tightly wound around Ohm as if he was terrified that to let Ohm go lest he disappear forever. Ohm looked down at his concerned friend and sighed deeply before muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Fong rested his head against Ohm’s chest and Ohm tried desperately to keep his heart rate in check. “I didn’t know that you wanted to spend more time just the two of us… why didn’t you tell me before?”

Ohm was beyond conflicted. He felt as if he was being tugged in too many directions. This is what we wanted, more time to spend with Fong alone but he was just setting himself up for self-torture.

If he didn’t say it now, he knew he never would so with a deep breath, Ohm shared his truth: “Because I want more than you can give me.”

Ohm gently unwound Fong’s arms from him so there was space between them again. He didn’t dare to look Fong in the eyes and moved once again toward the door to make his escape. The shame and regret he was experiencing was enough to make him break down right then and there but he kept himself in check enough to take his leave from Fong.

“But maybe I can.” Fong cried out and made Ohm freeze in his place. “Maybe that’s what I want too.”

Ohm turned quickly and felt like he was looking at Fong for the first time. Ohm shared, his voice wavering slightly, “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better, Fong. I’ll get over it… I’ll just need some time and space.”

“No. You’re not hearing me.” Fong closed the distance between them again, clutching Ohm’s hands in his own. “I don’t want space. I don’t want time. I want us.”

Before he could even properly registered Fong’s words, Fong had reached up and pressed his lips to Ohm’s. Ohm instantly melted into the kiss that he had been imagining in his mind for years. It was hard for him to embrace the fact that he was really kissing the very person he loved more than the world.

The kiss stretched on and even though Ohm did not want it to end, he pulled away slowly, wanting to take stock of where Fong was at. Fong’s cheeks were flushed and he had a somewhat distant look in his eyes that Ohm had never seen before.

“Fong, are you okay?” Ohm questioned.

A grin spread across Fong’s lips and he murmured, “I’m great. I’ve just been thinking about doing that for a long time…”

“Seriously?” Ohm asked, in complete shock. It turned out that maybe he was the ignorant one in this whole ordeal. “I never thought… but you never said… or did anything… and Tine… I thought you… huh?”

Fong laughed at Ohm’s stuttering, “I have wanted to be more than your best friend for years. Sure, Tine is a good friend but you are…. you are everything to me.”

Ohm still wondered if he was dreaming. This was everything he had always wanted to hear from Fong but never thought it would be a reality. He pulled Fong into a tight hug and didn’t ever want to let go.

The distance between them had mended. They were no longer two being separated by an unnameable rift. Their feelings were out in the open and Ohm never wanted to go back to how they were before.

“You mean more to me than you can possibly imagine.” Ohm admitted and the words that had so often scared him suddenly put him at ease. “To me, it’s just the two us.”

[softbiker]

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: a couple of bad words

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: After being injured on a mission, Bucky winds up spending a day with the Avengers newest recruit. Bucky x Reader

A/N: This is my submission for @nacho-bucky ‘s writing challenge! My prompt was ‘the smell of freshly baked bread’. As a side note, I drank a whole pot of coffee yesterday and wrote this in one afternoon, so it’s also unedited :) As always, let me know what you think! 

By the time the quinjet is an hour out from New York, Bucky Barnes is in an irredeemably foul mood.

Breaking up terror cells in Germany was supposed to be an easy mission - in and out, with the practiced ease of their well-oiled strike team. Really, they took the mission to spare German special forces the trouble...that, and a potential connection to an old Red Room contact of Natasha’s. With their “dream team” (Sam’s words, not Bucky’s) of Cap, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha, this should have been a light op, a scrimmage, Nerf ball.

Turns out superheroing is a contact sport, and they’ve got the bombs and broken ribs to prove it. A train station, a decoy, and an explosive device Natasha failed to disarm. With Sam coordinating civilian evacuation, there had only been a couple dozen injuries, but the suspect had slipped away, leaving them bruised and empty-handed.

Bucky had taken a brutal hit as he pulled Nat to safety, and now he is curled in his seat on the jet, metal hand holding his ribcage. He watches Steve scowl in the cockpit, jaw unflinchingly tight as he goes over the mission in his head. The captain doesn’t know how to let things go - never has, never will. Sam is actually piloting the quinjet, making unreturned small talk about a basketball game he went to last weekend. Natasha sits across from Bucky, a Stark tablet in her hands, dissecting bomb schematics and diagrams of diffusion techniques. There’s a little scab of dried blood on her bottom lip that she pokes at with her tongue, red brows lowered in concentration.

Bucky is exhausted - his hair smells like dust and smoke, his mouth is tangy and dry. There’s dried sweat underneath his uniform and he itches and his feet are hot in his boots and his ribs really fucking hurt. He lets his head fall back against the seat, and wishes they were home already.

**********

She pops her head up over the back of the couch when she hears them. What a sight they make: Bucky, propped up on Steve’s shoulder, Natasha dust-covered and buried in her tablet, Sam still sweaty and tugging at the harness on his suit. She still smiles, tentative but kind.

“Hi guys.” She lifts her fingers in a little wave. “Everyone okay?”

Bucky grunts in response; Natasha says nothing, making a beeline for her room and a shower. Sam, without doubt the most talkative person on the team, props himself on a stool and blows a harsh breath past his lips.

“We’re alright, yeah,” he sighed. “Barnes is a little beat up but he’ll get over it - he’s just  dramatic.”

“Fuck you, too, Wilson.” Bucky flips Sam off over his shoulder as they hobble towards the elevators.

She winces, not yet used to their harsh banter.

“Hey man, be nice in front of the rookie, alright?” Sam hollers, mock-offended. “You’re creating a hostile work environment!”

Steve chuckles a little at that, jostling Bucky’s tender ribs, which makes him scowl at his best friend.

“Bucky is a hostile work environment,” Steve deadpans. They’ve reached the elevator, and shuffle inside, turning to face the common room. Bucky catches the rookie’s eyes as she giggles behind her hand.

“She’s fine,” he rolls his eyes, sparing a wink for the rookie. “When I make it hostile, bird brain, you’ll know.”

The elevator doors close, and he leans on Steve a little heavier, and jabs his elbow into Steve’s stomach.

“Thanks a lot for that, by the way,” he huffs.

“What?” Steve feigns innocence, and very poorly. “Didn’t know you were so worried about making a good impression on the rookie.”

“I’m - I’m not.”

“Uh huh.”

“Shut up.”

They meet Dr. Banner in the medical wing where his lab adjoins the clinic; Sam had messaged him half an hour ago that they were inbound with a broken supersoldier, and Bruce had taken the liberty of setting up some of his supplies. Of all the doctors on staff, Bucky favored Dr. Banner - he was mild and soft-spoken enough to not trigger Bucky’s anxiety, in spite of the needles and IV drips and the snapping of latex gloves.

An X-ray and some bandages later, Bucky is removed from the active duty list for two weeks.

“Even with your advanced healing factor, I wanna be careful with this,” Bruce says, taking off his glasses to scratch the side of his nose. “I mean, your medical history is a little blurry, to say the least - and with all the shit HYDRA pulled, who knows what kind of stress your bones have been through before.” He taps away on his tablet, notifying FRIDAY and the admin system to remove Bucky from the roster. “In the meantime, take it easy - no missions, no training, no lifting weights. Probably avoid the motorcycle, too. I’ll check on them again in two weeks, and we’ll go from there.”

Steve is nodding - he never leaves Bucky by himself in medical - and crosses his arms. Neither of them have changed out of their uniforms yet, and in this sterile observation room, Bucky can finally smell the layers of grime and sweat clinging to them. His nose wrinkles when he gets a little whiff of himself, feeling bad for the nurse who bandaged his ribs.

“Oh I almost forgot -” Bruce turns around and reaches for something on his lab bench. A little blue bottle, full of round white pills. “Here. I developed these for the two of you - since you metabolize normal painkillers so quickly, I figured we might need something that would work in the event you sustain heavy injuries which…well, seemed likely. Take 2 every 4 hours, okay?”

His metal fingers grip the little bottle, rattling the tablets inside.

“Sure thing, doc.”

**********

She lifts the hem of her shirt, wiping at the sweat on her forehead, and leans against the wall of the gym. Her breath comes in short pants as her chest heaves, trying to cool down from her last bout with Agent Romanoff.

“Heads up.”

Her hands barely make it up in time to catch the flying water bottle headed for her face.

“Good catch,” Romanoff smirks a little. She’s sweating, too, but in a way that’s decidedly more sexy, little red curls hanging by her face. She looks fresh from a Pilates class, not a suicide workout - the rookie can feel the heat of her own face, the sweat drenching her clothes, and knows she’s not nearly as glowing as her trainer.

“You did really good today,” Romanoff continues. She keeps saying to call her “Natasha” but that is so hard to do with a woman so intimidating her alias is one of the world’s deadliest animals. “Really good. You’ve shown tons of improvement since we started. I’m going to recommend we start letting you shadow on missions in a couple more weeks.”

“Wow, really?” Her face lit up in spite of her exhaustion.

“Sure.” Natasha smiles. “I know it’s gotten a little boring, having you go through all of this.”

“Boring” was an understatement. Despite having a few years of experience under her belt - well, according to Tony Stark, vigilantism barely counts as “experience” - the rookie was assigned to a training program for her first couple of months on the team.

“Too much of a risk to put you in the field right away,” Stark had rattled off, handing her forms to sign and an official t-shirt (‘Look Mom! I’m an Avenger!’) and a tablet with a map of the compound. “Legal says we can avoid liability issues with a training program before we gradually phase you in, and I’m inclined to agree, so! Welcome to the team, but not officially!”

Her days consisted of early morning workouts, followed by combat and tactical training with Black Widow herself, and then...well, not much. There was research, of course, and she stayed on top of the intelligence briefings with the rest of the team. She went to meetings and official dinners and unofficial karaoke nights, but the rest of her time was mostly her own. Frankly, she was chomping at the bit to get back out there, in the action. Helping people.

“Well, hopefully it’ll pay off,” she sighs, giving Agent Romanoff an exhausted smile. “I wouldn’t want to be the weak link on the team.”

“You won’t be, believe me,” Natasha shakes her head. With a glance at her watch, she picks up her own water bottle and heads for the door. “Now I’ve gotta run, Skype meeting with Fury in 5. I’ll see you later, Rookie!”

**********

Bucky Barnes was feeling good.

Like, damn good.

Like, ‘Banner should label his controlled substances’ good.

Thing is, post-HYDRA and post-fugitive and post-cognitive reconstruction therapy, Bucky was more mentally okay than he had been in decades. He had the occasional rough day, and he definitely wasn’t perfect by any means, but with the shrinks that Stark had on retainer, he was getting better at dealing with it all. His physical health, however, was more of a moving target. In spite of receiving a bastardized supersoldier serum, he had been pumped full of so much other shit and gone through so much physical stress that his body had fundamentally shifted equilibrium. Multiple appointments with Dr. Cho and Shuri revealed that his chronic pain may never fully heal - if it did, it would be a very gradual process. Normal painkillers in reasonable doses did nothing for him, so Bucky settled in to his discomfort, carrying it the way he carried his knives and his scars - always.

24 hours into his medical leave, a few doses of pills down, and he couldn’t feel a single ounce of pain in his body - he shifted his awareness to each part of himself, like that guided meditation thing Wanda did sometimes, and he couldn’t find the pain, not even lurking behind the muscle and metal. He might be a little miffed at being off the active duty roster, but if his whole vacation is going to feel like this? Well, he doesn’t mind to let Steve handle the next threat to world peace.

With his schedule suddenly wide open, Bucky wonders what he’ll do with his day. He can’t remember the last time he truly had nothing to do - it’s an exciting prospect. So he lets himself ease through his morning, sleeping in, long hot shower, slipping on those plush Black Widow pajama pants Nat gave him as a gag gift. He knows everyone else will have had their breakfast and moved on to morning briefings and training drills by now, and he wanders down to the kitchen in the hopes that they’ve left him some coffee.

He sees her there, perched on a stool at the island and frowning at the tablet in her hand. There’s a little scrunch to her nose when she does that, he notices.

“Good morning,” he says softly, trying and failing not to startle her.

“Oh, hey Bucky,” she smiles, watches him round the island to the coffee pot on the counter. “I didn’t see you there.”

“S’okay. I’m quiet.”

“You didn’t get tapped for the recovery mission? They’re going after your suspect from Berlin again, I think.”

“Oh, I’m off missions for two weeks.” He turns, giant ‘Don’t forget to be awesome’ mug gripped in his metal hand. “Banner’s orders. You didn’t hear about my smashed ribs?”

“Oh no, I guess not - are you okay?” Suddenly she’s concerned, and a little sheepish. “Sorry, I’m still a little out of the loop I guess.”

He feels guilty for that - she’s eager, bright, kind, a brilliant recruit. But it can take a while before you’re ‘in’ with the team. Not because they exclude her, but, well - a group made up of outsiders has a hard time adding new faces to the mix.

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault.” Bucky digs around in a jar on the counter for a few sugar packets, dumping them into his mug. “Anyways, I’m off the roster for now. Gotta figure out something to do with myself, I guess.”

Her smile is slow, ducked under pretty lashes - he really needs to stop noticing these things.

“Would you - I mean, you can hang out with me if you want?” She chews on her lip. “I’m done for today - my training with Natasha ended early and they didn’t need me in on the briefing so…”

The rookie was lonely - he could see that, anyone could. The fact is, between their own training and missions, it had been a little hard for the team to spend very much time with her. Bucky himself was often a bit of a loner in his free time, preferring to hole up in his room with books and movies rather than go out for drinks or another karaoke night. And yet, he found himself feeling eager at the thought of spending a relaxing day with the new recruit, getting to know her a little, hearing that funny little laugh through her nose.

“Sounds great, Rookie - what did ya have in mind?”

**********

“Okay, I just wanna go on the record and say I called it. I called it!” She’s grinning. “I knew you would love this.”

“Well, hey, in my defense, I’ve never hated beautiful women.”

She just rolls her eyes, kicks her feet out to rest on the coffee table in front of them. There’s a pile of DVD’s, all hers, laying across the surface, picked through and ranked in order of what was most important for Bucky to see. His film education was obviously lacking, considering he missed out on 70 years of movies, and didn’t even know what he liked anymore, so he was content to let her pick. After raiding the kitchen for an array of snacks, they settled in, opposite ends of the same couch with a bowl of popcorn and dark chocolate M&M’s between them.

Approximately 20 minutes into the movie, Steve appears, just passing through for an apple from the fridge. He stops in his tracks behind the couch, the crunch of the fruit in his mouth just above their heads.

“What is this?” he says around his mouthful. If his Ma could see him now, Bucky thinks.

“It’s called ‘How to Marry a Millionaire’ - came out in 1953,” she answers, smiling over her shoulder at him. “It’s one of my favorites honestly.”

“That’s - that’s Lauren Bacall!” Steve perks up, smacking Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, punk,” Bucky rolls his eyes. “Betty Grable’s in it, too.”

“No shit!” Steve is grinning now, and he gives the rookie a conspiratorial look. “Y’know, Bucky used to have her pin-up poster. The one in the white bathing suit? Had it in his suitcase when he shipped out.”

“Oh, really?” She’s looking at him now, eyes sparkling at the rosy blush climbing up Bucky’s cheeks. “Betty Grable, huh?”

He clears his throat. “Well, everybody had that picture, I mean...it’s famous for a reason. All the boys had ‘em.”

“No, no, I get that,” she shrugs. “I just had you pegged as more the Rita Hayworth type, that’s all.”

It takes him back for a second, Steve too, that she knows these starlets, that they could’ve been having this same conversation 75 years ago. He can see that look in Steve’s eyes, sly and knowing as they slide towards him. Bucky works his mouth, tries to control his smile.

“Well, nothing wrong with her either,” he drawls, spreading his arms along the back of the couch. “But did you see Grable’s legs?”

“I just thought you might’ve had a thing for redheads!” she laughs.

“They’re alright, I guess - now Dugan on the other hand…”

Neither of them notices Steve leave the room, tossing the apple in his hand and a huge dopey grin on his face.

**********

“Tell me again what the recipe says?”

“One cup of pumpkin puree.”

“Oh - shit, I thought you said one can.”

She smacks her forehead. “No wonder the batter is so goopy!” She rolls her eyes playfully. “You’re trying to ruin my bread, Barnes.”

“I swear I’m not, doll - it was an accident.”

“Okay, new plan - we just make a double batch since the can has two cups in it.”

She shuffles around behind him, grabbing her flour and sugar and sour cream and other ingredients, hands flurrying to measure and fix the dough. It’s mid-afternoon now, a couple of movies down, and they (she) decided they needed to get in the fall spirit by baking a ridiculous amount of...breads. The banana bread is already in the oven, the pumpkin will be on its way as soon as she fixes his mistake, and a blueberry bread (made from muffin mix) is next on the list.

“But...what’s so special about making it into breads?” He had asked, causing her to look at him like an idiot.

“Ask me that again after you try them, Bucky.”

So he shut up and cracked eggs and sifted flour, stirring when her arm got tired. He was already regretting his words now that the smell of the banana bread was drifting towards him from the ovens, and he had to admit the pumpkin and cinnamon from her bowl was making his stomach growl. With all the bowls and measuring cups laying around, they were making enough sweet breads to feed an army, but hey - the Avengers are practically a small army of their own. And besides, Bucky intends on taking an entire loaf - baker’s privilege.

He decides that he likes watching her work, bouncing around the kitchen, some oldies playlist on the speakers, her tongue poking out between her lips. She’s got her sweater sleeves pushed up over her elbows - he had to help with that, after she got dough on them. This song is good, too, and he wants to ask her who wrote it-

“Are you gonna stand there staring at me, or are you gonna help?” she quips over her shoulder. He has no idea when he last smiled so much.

“You’re the boss, Rookie.”

**********

She’s got her feet in his lap now, and they haven’t said a word in an hour, and Bucky doesn’t even remember taking his last dose or two of his pain pills but he doesn’t feel a goddamn thing.

There’s a huge book in her lap, Stephen King - a favorite, he’s learned.

“I read at least one of his books every year in October,” she tells him. “You know, to get ready for spooky season.”

“Spooky season? What the hell is that?”

“You know, Halloween time!” she smacks his arm. “It’s Halloween first, Buck, you gotta get in the spirit.”

“I’m -” he sputters, face drawn in the most adorably confused look. “Halloween first?”

She hands him a book of his own and now here they are - he’s 20 pages into The Shining, but he’s stopped paying attention because she’s yawning behind her book and her eyes are fluttering shut, and it shouldn’t be as distracting as it is.

He forces his eyes down to his own page, to Jack Torrance and haunted hotels, but they’re drawn back up when her book finally drops the rest of the way to her lap. Her head slumps sideways onto the back of the couch, mouth open just a little. He draws the blanket down around her feet and tucks it in a little tighter, but other than that, doesn’t move a muscle. He’s just fine right here, thank you.

He’s sinking in again, driving up the twisting mountain road to the Overlook, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Carefully - in the way highly trained superspies can be careful - he lifts his hips up and pulls his phone from his pocket, managing not to dislodge her feet or wake her up. She merely sighs in her sleep, nuzzling her face into the couch pillow. A text notification from team group message lights up the screen.

It’s Natasha. A photo, a photo which she somehow managed to take without him knowing, of him and the rookie, practically snuggling on the couch and reading together. Her legs are propped over his lap, and Bucky’s eyes are staring straight at her over the top of his book. Nat has captioned the photo: “looks like Barnes found a good nurse.”

He snorts a little. Natalia. Glances up at her, still sleeping, and tilts his phone upwards a few degrees and snaps a picture to send back.

“She sleeps on the job” he types, thumbs still slow on the phone keyboard. Instantly, his phone starts buzzing with more texts from the team, but he mutes it and lays his phone on the coffee table. He doesn’t feel like talking now. Well, talking to them.

“Hey...Rookie,” he whispers, reaching out and shaking her shoulder a little. She hums in her sleep, but makes no other move.

“Rookie, I gotta ask you something.” He wiggles her leg a little, shaking her feet in his lap, and whispers her name. He’s rewarded with her eyes fluttering open, her mouth drawn down in a pout at being woken up.

“Whatisit,” she sighs, still slumped into the cushions. He clears his throat. Here goes nothing.

“So, there’s a charity gala for the Stark Foundation coming up next weekend,” he starts bravely. “And - and the whole team is going anyway, so I know you’re gonna be there, but - well, maybe you would consider going...with me?” Courage runs out, and his brain backpedals. “I mean, just as a friend?”

She huffs. “I can’t believe you woke me up for that.”

“Oh.” He looks down, hair falling in his eyes. “So...you don’t want to go with me?”

“Of course I’ll go with you, Barnes,” she sighs. “Now shush. I was napping”

His face hurts from the stretch in his cheeks when he smiles. He’s gonna give Bruce those pain meds back.

[keiwritesstuff]

With You

Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

Summary : Kuroo and her are classmates, but never really talked to each other since he’s a social butterfly while she prefers to do things alone. One day, their teacher assigns both of them to be assignment partners, and they discovered new things about each other.

Genre : slice of life, soft

Notes : Long. Written in 3rd person ‘s POV. Absolutety self-indulgent. Slowburn-ish. Happy ending. Bokuto is adorable.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“For this topic.. Kuroo Testuro and L/N F/N,” the teacher announced before nonchalantly proceeded to name the other pairs. She subconsciously straightened her back, totally not expecting to be paired up with a boy, what more a really famous one. She’s not that interested in sports, but she knew enough that he’s somehow very popular, considering how he’s the captain of Nekoma vc and is very often surrounded by people (mostly girls, but what’s the difference?).

She prefers working alone, and knows that she’s very good at it. But this project… this presentation, will contribute to her getting good grades should she does it well, and she would really like to maintain the ones she had achieved, if not get better ones.

She has to.

After the teacher had finished assigning the topics to all pairs, the teacher had them sit together to start their discussion. From what Y/N knew, Kuroo is good in Science. She had never seen him fail the subject, if that is any indication.

It won’t be too bad, she told herself.

 “I’ll be in your care, Kuroo-kun.” she spoke.

“Same goes with me.” he smiled before taking out his textbook to start the discussion. “I don’t think this topic is too difficult to present on, but I do think that we need to look for more examples to make our explanation easier to understand.” he added. She was rather impressed, considering he hadn’t even turned to the page related to said topic.

Both of them immediately set up a schedule for upcoming discussions since he is busy with volleyball practice.

 That weekend, he goes to her house to work on the contents of the presentation. He was greeted by a young boy, who welcomed him into the house. The boy brought him to the kitchen, where he saw Y/N cooking, with a pair of twin boys clinging onto her legs.

“I didn’t know you’re a single mother.” he started, couldn’t help himself from doing his habit of teasing people.

“Shut up.” she laughed (which amused him, since he didn’t take her as someone who accepts jokes easily).

“These are my brothers. My parents are out working. Usually mom is at home taking care of these kids, but whenever I can do it, she’ll be at the shop, helping my dad.” she spoke, still busy stirring the food in the pot. “I think you can put your stuff on the couch. I’ll be there in a second.” she continued, somewhat apologetically, since she couldn’t immediately start their discussion. Kuroo sensed it, and quickly replied, “Alright. Tell me if you need a hand, though my assistance does come with a hazard warning.”

He saw her smile again before walking to the living room. He didn’t notice the warmth blooming from somewhere inside his chest.

   After making sure her brothers have finished their meal, she rushed to Kuroo with iced peach tea in her hand. “Sorry. I’ll try .” she starts to jot down and rearrange the notes that she had collected through her own research for Kuroo’s opinion. Kuroo looked at her and noticed the conforting smell of homemade oyakodon. He couldn’t help but smile. Though they rarely talked in class, she had always given him this impression that she prefers to be left alone. Who would’ve thought that at home, there are three little gremlins glued to her hips all the time?

 After school, both of them stayed in class along with other pairs who seem to be struggling as well. Both Kuroo and Y/N are more exhausted than usual, and Kuroo definitely took back what he said about the topic being easy. Linking the examples with the main points has been proven to be more difficult than they deemed it to be, especially in efforts to make it as simple and as easy to understand as possible. Y/N wanted to ace this assignment, and Kuroo noticed how she was struggling to digest the notes, reading the same page over and over again but to no avail.

“You reeaally want to ace this presentation, don’t you?” he asked.

She rested her head on the table, a few strands of her hair tickling her nose.

“Of course. I need to make sure I maintain impressive grades in my result transcript. Gotta get those scholarships.” Y/N replied, exhaustion could be heard from her voice, probably from taking care of her younger brothers. Funny, Kuroo thinks, that he couldn’t notice this side of her before. Had she been this… at ease before?

“Scholarship?”

Y/N nods. “Yeah. I’m aiming for Tohoku University.” she replied. “It’s not easy to get a scholarship there, but their Natural Science department is top notch and I’d love to study there. Not to mention, if I survived uni, that Tohoku logo would look good on my CV, don’t you think?”

Her head is still on the table, but her eyes are looking somewhere else now, her facial expression clearly shows that she can already visualize that life, that dream.

Kuroo was rather impressed. Tohoku isn’t so easy to get into, it is not a place for everyone, and if anyone wants to earn a scholarship there, they have to work extremely hard (and maybe offer a sacrifice to the gods for good measure).

“That’s pretty amazing,” he commented. “But what about your brothers? Will they be okay? Aren’t you worried? They seem to be really attached to you.”

“I am, but at the same time I want to work hard and secure a good job so that they don’t have to worry much about money, just in case one day they want to apply to any college institution.”

If Kuroo was impressed before, now he has an utmost respect for Y/N.

“Well, it’s just a dream for now, but, just like how your team works hard to win matches, I’m going to work hard to make my dream come true.” Y/N said, patting her cheeks hard, back straightened, tucking those stray hair behind her ears, and re-reading that page, again.

                                                         ++++

On Friday, surprisingly, Kuroo was suddenly absent without telling Y/N. They were supposed to have another discussion after school, since Kuroo won’t be available that weekend due to volleyball practice (there is an upcoming match with a strong team whose captain is a dorky owl, he said. Not that she understood, but he seemed ecstatic, so she just agreed on the change of plan in the schedule.).

She texted him during recess, but received no reply. He didn’t even read them. Did something happen? It’s not like him to ignore her texts like this. At least, he had never done so before.

Would his teammates know what happened to him?

She stumbled upon a familiar second-year student on her way to the gym hall after school. He had a game console in his hands. If she is not mistaken, she had seen him before, walking with Kuroo.

“Uh, excuse me, sorry.. You’re Kuroo’s friend, aren’t you?” she said.

He looked at her. “And what if I am?”

She gave him a meek smile. Sheesh. What’s with that attitude?

  “Do you know where he is? We’re supposed to have a pair discussion today for our assignment, but he’s absent and didn’t reply to my texts. I mean,I get it if he’s occupied with practice, but it would be nice to receive a heads up.”

She has a life too, you know.

The second-year stood straight. “Oh. I see. I thought you are one of those girls who are constantly bugging him.”

Oh.

Oh.

 “He told us he wasn’t feeling well yesterday. His blocks were easily broken through too. He didn’t reply to my texts, either, let alone answer my calls. So, it could only mean one thing.”

She raised her eyebrow.

“He is definitely sick. Most likely fever. I’m planning to check on him after practice today.”

                                         ++++

Kuroo stirred in his sleep. The doorbell is ringing relentlessly.

Oh gosh, do I HAVE to open the door?

Dragging his feet, he could feel his joints ache with every movement. He rarely gets sick. He takes pride on that. But when he actually does, he could not deny how bad it can get. Fever is the worse. His head feels heavy, cloudy. His throat is in pain. His body is in pain. He doesn’t have the strength to move, and usually it’s either Kenma or his grandmother who would help to nurse him back to health(Kenma is not really good at it, but he tries).

He opened the door. “Hey Kenm---eh..?”

It was not Kenma.

“I told Kenma I’d check on you. He won’t be coming over today.” Y/N said.

Y/N?

“Are you sick?” she took a step forward, putting her hand on Kuroo’s forehead, startling him in the process.

“Yep, you definitely are.”

Huh?

“Ojamashimasu*,” she invited herself in, and Kuroo is still standing in the doorway. Weak, but shocked nevertheless.

Wait a minute. Hold up for a second. What is all this? What is she doing here? What is going on? Did she just come into the house? Eh..? Has she always been this forward?

And then he remembered the discussion that they were supposed to have that day. Oh no.

Crap.

“Uh, hey, Y/N.. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you earlier--”

“Rest, Kuroo It’s fine. Just take out all your have on the assignment, and I’ll see what I can add to the contents. You, rest. I’ll be here for a while though. I’ll leave whatever part I can finish on the table so you can take a look at them later. Is it okay with you?”

Goodness grief, the determination in this girl. How important can that scholarship be?!

“S..sure..? I… I’ll make you some tea..” he winced in pain, taking a step towards the kitchen, but stoppped when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned, only to face a stern-looking Y/N. “Kuroo, rest. I know this is your house and I’m a guest, but in your defense, I came here on my own accord, and you’re sick. You should rest. I will drag you to your bed, by your feet if you insist on entertaining me.”

What is she? A mother? Oh wait, she kinda is.

He chuckled. “Okay, okay..”

He wanted to say more. Thanks for coming. Make yourself at home. I’ll buy you ice-cream when I get well. Thanks for helping me with the notes. Thanks for understanding and not getting mad.

But his body is aching all over, and all he could do is to just listen to her, and walked into his room. After handing everything he had on the assignment to her, he fell onto his bed , sleep immediately overtaking him.

  He gained consciousness every now and then, only to shift his position and fall back into slumber. His fever is really bad this time around, and the fact that he has his assignment partner doing all the work in his living room is making him feel even worse. Not to mention, his family members are not around.

“..roo.”

He dreams of warm, chicken soup. He has no appetite to eat, but it would be nice to have some, to help him get better.

“Kuroo-kun.”

He felt something cool on his head. A hand. He wasn’t sure if his mind is playing tricks, but he could smell chicken soup.

“Kuroo-kun, hey, wake up.”

Another hand shook him gently, and he pried his eyes open, only to see Y/N sitting on his bed next to him, a bowl on her lap.

“Y/N..?” his voice came out hoarse.

“Here. I made you some porridge and ginger tea. Can you sit up?”

Truthfully, the ache on his joints says no. But the captain in him insisted, and as he was struggling to sit up, he noticed that she had her hands steady on his shoulders, ready to guide him if he suddenly falls to his side. His head is spinning, and it takes some time for his vision to clear.

Wait. She said she made porridge?

He stared at the bowl on her lap. She handed him the cup of tea. “Did you just---” he pointed to the bowl.

“I know, I know.. I used your kitchen and some ingredients in the fridge.. I’m sorry. I waited for a while to see if any of your family members would come home. Maybe they would bring home some food. But no one did, so I went ahead and cooked.. sorry.. I’ll pay you back for the ingredients I used. It’s just.. you looked like you hadn’t eaten anything today.”

 No, that’s not the point, silly.

He stared at her in disbelief.

And something, like a gentle wave, is washing over him from all sides.

 Kuroo looked at this girl.

This unbelievable girl.

 Did he do something to deserve this kindness?

Stop.

Why is she so nice? So unquestionably thoughtful?

 Stop it.

If he didn’t feel it before, Kuroo can definitely feel it now, that warmth inside his chest, blooming bigger and bigger. Like an onslaught, refusing to spare him.

As if it’s going to explode anytime soon. Has it always been there?

 “Yeah.. my dad usually comes home from work at night, and my grandparents are visiting our relatives in Chiba for a week. So.. yeah.” he took the bowl in silence, inhaled the smell of chicken, rice and spices, and at the first taste of the warm porridge on his tongue, Kuroo immediately slumped, his emotions are suddenly so overwhelming that he could feel heat prickling on his eyes. He hadn’t felt this fragile in such a long time.

Bullets fly, from his left and right, front and back. There is nowhere to hide.

She noticed the change. “Kuroo-kun..? Hey, you alright? Is it too hot? Are you in pain?” Y/N panicked, quickly taking the bowl away and trying to get him to drink the tea.

What is this?

He couldn’t understand.

Kuroo shook his head lightly. For some reason, words just failed him. What is this feeling? Why does it seem like he had missed this feeling for so long? This gentleness, this--this

-yearning?

The next thing Y/N realized, she was in his arms. She couldn’t see his face, her own is buried his chest, but he was shaking, and she could hear a faint, shaky whisper of “thank you” from him, and it was enough for her to understand.

How he didn’t mention his mother. How there seem to be a lack of a female’s touch in certain corners of the house. How she noticed that there were mostly men’s shoes in the doorway.

She gently pat him on his back, as she would often do when her little brothers get sick.

                                                +++

“You seem off today.” said Kenma, fishing his water bottle out of his bag, panting. Today’s practice is harsh as usual, but exciting nevertheless, since they are very much looking forward to see their good friends from Fukurodani.

“Do I?” Kuroo asked. “The Science assignment, I guess. I’m just hoping that I’ll do well. I mean, Y/N wants to maintain her grades. She’s aiming for a scholarship, you know.”

There was a short silence before Kenma chuckled and spoke, “Why does it sound like you’re bragging? You make it sound like she’s your girlfriend or something.”

Kuroo tensed. It was a nonchalant comment, but it definitely got to him.

G....girlfriend?

  He had never thought about dating anyone. He had always been occupied with volleyball practice. Y/N however, might be different. She’s probably dating someone, considering how wonderful she is. Kuroo stared at her, her eyes  are currently focused on the sheets of paper and cue cards.

Does she have a boyfriend? Who is he? Does he get upset whenever she spends her time with him?

And somehow, that thought alone irked him.

 “So..maybe it’s better if we connect this part with this example right here. I think it’ll  make it easier for us to get our point across.” she said, pointing to said contents on the notes.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

That attitude did not go unnoticed.

“Kuroo-kun.” she called. “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah.” Kuroo doodled circles on a piece of paper, refusing any eye contact.

“You don’t look alright. You’re clearly upset.”

“How’d you know?” Kuroo asked.

“You scrunch your nose when you’re upset.”

“No, I don’t!” he exclaimed, covering his nose.

Y/N laughed. “Okay, you don’t, but still, I know you’re not okay. Is something bothering you?”

 Kuroo was silent before answering her. “It’s.. nothing. I’m just not thinking clearly, I guess.” Kuroo scratched his head. How does she know?

“You want to talk about it?”she asked again, this time staring at him straight in the eyes. To make sure he knows that she will listen if he decided to share something.

That stare. Those eyes. Oh, how different it feels whenever he’s with her. With her, he is not the captain of Nekoma vc. With her, he doesn’t have to focus on leading anything or anyone. With her, he doesn’t have to hide his feelings (she can see through him anyway). With her, he is just Kuroo Tetsurou from Class 5.

There it is again. That warmth. Blooming. Bigger and bigger.

She still waits for his response.

There is no escape.

“Y/N, I..”

She listens.

“I..I think I….li--”

 The classroom door slid open, revealing a tall boy with light grey hair, panting for air.  “Captaaaaaiin! I’m here to get you!”

Kuroo almost fell off his chair in shock. Talk about the worst timing ever. “Lev..! You idiot!” he muttered under his breath.

 “Where were you?! You’re late! Practice started 15 minutes ago! Why didn’t you text back?! They had me searching for you all over the school!”

“What? Oh! Crap! I forgot!” Kuroo stood up in panic. Crap crap crap. Now he even forgets his captain duties. The practice match with Fukurodani is on the weekend and here he is, not being able to function well in neither his assignment nor practice!

 “You have practice today? You didn’t tell me?” Y/N looked at him

“Yeah. I forgot. Sorry, both the presentation and the upcoming practice match with Fukurodani is getting to me, I guess.”

He lied, hoping she would not see through that lie.

Fortunately, she didn’t. With a soft sigh, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tetsurou. We’ll do well.”

Tetsurou.

As if he was struck by lightning, it took a while before Kuroo could move. Tetsurou. Tetsurou. It sounds different when she says it. It sounds good when she says it.

Y/N stood up and tidied up the table, packing her stuff. “You go ahead. I’ll clean up. Uh… Lev-kun? Sorry you had to come all over here to look for your captain. If I had known, I would’ve sent him to the gym hall.” Y/N gave the tall boy a smile, and Kuroo noticed how the younger boy’s ears turned into a darker shade of red.

“It… It’s okay!” the boy replied enthusiastically.

Kuroo doesn’t like it.

“Let’s go,” he simply said, and dragged the boy with him.

                                            +++

“Let’s do this.” Y/N whispered, their presentation is being projected onto the white screen. Kuroo nodded. They had done everything they could for the contents of the presentation, they even did a mock presentation the day before to make sure they deliver the contents smoothly.

“For some reason this feels like a volleyball match.” he commented, gripping his cue cards in both excitement and nervousness.

She smiled at him, though she too, shares the same feelings. “Well then, if that is so, I’ll be in your care today, captain.” she smiled.

Captain.

His heart beats faster, harder, not because of the presentation alone, and Kuroo knows it.

Bigger. Blooming bigger. Hotter.

  “Phew, that was nerve-wrecking!” she exclaimed, obviously relieved that everything is over. If the applause they received from their classmates and teacher is any indication of how well they did in their presentation, they could say that they did pretty well.

“Now that this is over, I can focus on the practice match with Fukurodani this weekend.” Kuroo puts away his notes, sighing in relief.

“I wish you luck with that. Sadly there is nothing I can help you with.” she said apologetically.

“Nah, you’ve done enough. I still hadn’t bought you your well-deserved ice cream, for taking care of me the other day.”

She laughed at him. “Well, don’t you forget that.”

Kuroo took some moment before speaking, unsure of how he should choose his next words.

“Uh, anyhow, Y/N.. Do you want to come to see our match this weekend..?”

Kuroo himself didn’t expect that he would say that. It just came out, and he immediately added, “I mean, if you have time! If you don’t have anything to do on that day! You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it would be great if you’d come, you know!-- For.. for--”

He stopped himself when he noticed her staring at him with an expression that he could not read.

“-for moral s..support..”

The last part came out shaky.

Her eyes brightened. “I’d love to. Not sure how much support I can give, though. I don’t know much about volleyball.” Y/N replied, pink tinting her cheeks.

Kuroo beamed. “N..No worries! Just cheer for us!”

                                                 ++++

The day came, and when Y/N arrived at the hall, she immediately noticed the white jackets close to her, warming up and talking to each other. Nekoma’s team is across the hall, but she doesn’t think that it would be appropriate to come up to them. After all, the only person she’s familiar with is Kuroo, and she had only talked to Kenma and Lev once.

Lost, she looked around to find a place to sit and wait for the match to start. As she turned around, a tall presence stood behind her.

“Hey hey hey? You seem lost!”

No lie, she felt like a midget next to him. He isn’t just tall. He’s pretty big, as well. Looking at his grey spiky hair and big eyes, Y/N couldn’t help feeling a little intimidated.

“Uh, no… I’m just waiting for the match to start.. I…I’ll be going, then..”

Her attempt to escape failed when the boy spoke, “Wait! Will you be cheering for us? You should! We’re pretty awesome, you know! We will win this--”

“Hyaaaaaah!”

Kuroo ran from afar and tackled the boy down.

 “Idiot rooster head! What was that for?!” the boy pushed Kuroo off him. It seems like that tackle didn’t affect him even a little bit.

“What were you doing to Y/N, Bokuto?” Kuroo asked, calm, but irritated. He pinched Bokuto’s cheeks really hard.

“Oi, oi! I did nothing! Oww! AKAAAAASHIIII!”

Y/N can only watch. Another dark haired boy came and tapped on Kuroo’s head. “He asked her to cheer for us.

“Haaaaah??!!” Kuroo pinched harder.

“Akaaaaashiiii!!”

After a few smacks on his arm, Kuroo finally released the boy he called Bokuto, and stood next to Y/N. “She! Will! Be! Cheering! For! Me!”

Bokuto stared at him in disdain and pouted.“Huh? Why should she? You’re not even that good.”

“Haaaah?!!”

 As another one of their bickering started, Kenma tapped on Y/N’s shoulder. “I think you should go up there. It’s pretty dangerous down here during the game.”

                                                     +++

It was like a new world for her. The crisp sound of the ball being hit, the cheers every time any one of the teams scored, and the intensity of the game itself truly amazed her. She got lost sometimes, not understanding why points were given, but it didn’t stop her from watching the whole match.

Bokuto and Kuroo, she noticed, despite being good friends, can also get on each other’s nerves very easily.

And Kenma radiates a different energy when he’s in the court. He was right, too. Y/N could’ve easily get hit by a stray ball if she stayed close around the court.

Kuroo, on the other hand, looks so different. He’s not the same person as he usually is in class. From what Y/N could observe, the team really listens to him, respects him even and there is this intensity to his demeanor. Where did the laid-back guy go to?

 It was clear to her why all those people (again, mostly girls, but what’s the difference?) surround him all the time.

 He looked up, looking at her after he successfully blocked a particularly hard spike from Fukurodani (Bokuto’s, to be exact). He flashed her a wide, teethy smile and gave her two thumbs up. For some reason, her ears feel hot, and she smiled back at him. Lev noticed her looking at them from above and frantically waved at her. She waved back, laughing. Kuroo frowned at him.

Lev noticed his captain’s stare and pouted. “I blocked that spike too!”

  The game was exciting to watch. If she had known all along that this is how it feels like to watch a match, she would’ve come to every volleyball match as much as she could. Kuroo had once mentioned the names of other strong teams, one of them being Karasuno High School, complimenting Karasuno’s ‘shrimpy’ especially. She couldn’t help thinking that if Kuroo himself (who loves his team the most) respectfully acknowledges that team, then it definitely means that they must truly be a force to reckon with. A match between Nekoma and Karasuno would be as intense as this one, if not more.

As the match proceeds, the heat in the court gradually got to Y/N, and she doesn’t notice that she is no longer holding back her voice. She cheers for Nekoma, claps her hands when Fukurodani scored points (smug was evident on Bokuto’s face, only to spur Kuroo on), and without realizing it, as Bokuto was about to spike hard, she was screaming someone’s name.

Everyone in the hall cheered in amazement. Nekoma managed to block that spike, the ball bounced back too quickly for Fukurodani’s libero to save.

Y/N’s breath hitched when the whistle was blown, ending the match with Nekoma’s victory.

 Her eyes automatically darted to Kuroo, who fantastically blocked that last attack, and she saw the pure joy on his face, smiling at his teammates and rival team, before finally, at her.

And she swore she felt time stopped.

   She stood outside the gym hall. She wasn’t sure how long she should stay inside, or if she should see Kuroo to congratulate him and the team.

“Hey hey hey! It’s you again!” Bokuto appeared behind her, with the team. Why is he everywhere?

Y/N bowed. “Your team was amazing. Please do come again for practice matches, Bokuto-san.” Y/N said, already familiar with the grey-haired captain. The boy beamed with joy. “We were, right?! Ah, if only you didn’t cheer for that rooster head and cheered for us instead, we could’ve won!” Bokuto said, though Y/N wasn’t sure if he was just joking or truly regretful.

 “Wait, did you hear me?” she suddenly grew alert. He couldn’t have, right? Was it that loud?

 “Hm?The whole hall did? You called Tetsurou’s name like, really really loudly.”

 And in an instant, her face turned beet red.

Suddenly, she remembered. She actually did call Kuroo’s name. Screamed, to be exact.

 “Tetsurou, you can do it!!”

 Oh. Oh no.

 What was she thinking?!

It wasn’t like her at all! What is this?!

 “Ah, her face is red.” Bokuto commented in confusion. “But like I said, next time, you should definitely cheer for us! We are much better than---OWWWW!”

Bokuto was tackled down again, Kuroo appearing out of nowhere, pinching his cheeks for the nth time that day.

 “Akaaaaaaashiiiiiii!!!!”

                                                ++++++++

Kuroo waves his hand as Fukurodani’s bus leaves the premise. Y/N stood next to him, doing the same thing. After the bus disappears from sight, Kuroo turns to her. He was wearing this smile that Y/N couldn’t read. “Thank you so much for coming, Y/N.” he spoke. The setting sun hits him differently. He looks gorgeous, Y/N thought.

Y/N doesn’t know why, they are talking normally as they always do, but her heart seems to beat faster than usual.

“Well, I hope I managed to give you the moral support you asked for.” she replied.

 Kuroo smirked. “You definitely did. I didn’t even know you can scream that loud.” he chuckled.

She turned red again, this time caught by Kuroo. He laughed. “You should watch us play again next time. It’s good to hear people cheering for you. Especially when they’re suuuper loud.”

 She huffed at his teasing. “You normally have a lot of friends to do that, anyway.”

 “Yeah, but I want to hear yours.”

 Y/N was rendered speechless. She looked at Kuroo, looking for any hint of playfulness, maybe he’s joking around again, maybe she should tease him back,-

but there was none. He was looking at her, eyes intense, awaiting for something from her.

“Kuroo..-”

“I--” he cut her off, “I don’t know how to say this, Y/N.. I’m not used to it.. but..I just…I know that.. I want to be with you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched quietly, not expecting Kuroo to confess his feelings so directly like that.

“You don’t have to answer immediately. I just.. I don’t think I can hide it any longer. Especially after you screamed my name in front of everyone like that. I thought I was going to explode out of sheer happiness.”

Kuroo took a shallow breath before continuing, “Whatever your answer is, I just want you to know that I enjoy you around me a lot. Even if you can’t return these feelings, I still hope we can still be friends. It’s nice to have a--”

This time, Y/N cuts him off, pulling him down into a tight hug. Kuroo’s eyes widened in shock.

“This is my answer, Tetsurou.” she spoke, voice trembling, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Trying to get over his shock, Kuroo gently wraps his arms around her waist, trying to hold himself back. He wanted to hold her tighter, to wash away any traces of disbelief in his heart, -she likes me too?- but he wasn’t sure how she would take that.

“Y/N…” he whispers her name, and she tightened her embrace. If there’s anything that he understands about her, he knows that she is definitely more actions than words. He understands what that means.

I like you. A lot.

This time, Kuroo doesn’t hesitate. He hugged her tight, unwilling to let go even a second. His heart is bursting with love and joy, and he instantly becomes sure that this is the person that he wants to be with.

For the rest of his life.

  Eventually, they pulled apart, because Lev and the rest of the team emerged from behind them.

“I want a hug too!”

Y/N laughed while Kuroo stared at the first-year in disbelief. “How dense can you be? Can’t you read the atmosphere here??”

“BUT I BLOCKED THOSE SPIKES TOO! I DESERVE A HUG!”

“Then go hug Yaku!” Kuroo pointed at said boy.

“Aw, hell no!”

Yaku ran when Lev sprinted towards him.

 ________________________________________________________

[A/N] How did this get so long? Thanks for reading! I’ll work hard to improve!

[ardentprose]

Trials of Hope

Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: mention of suicidal thoughts. depictions of depression and panic attacks.

Summary: Progress always comes with setbacks. Among all the good days, one unfortunate night appears in which every coping mechanism fails and you are forced to reach out for help. To be reminded that you are not alone.

Song: Sea by BTS (fanmade lyric video (not mine))

My fingers slide over the phone screen. My thumb trembles as I open the messaging app. In the top three conversations lies his name. Funnily enough, I haven’t texted that much to warrant such a high spot. However, the fact I’m even tapping on his name and staring at the keyboard is its own explanation. 

Hoseok is just short of a friend. But in this moment, he’s all I have. 

Hey, are you up?

After several rewrites I send the text. A shuddering sigh exhales past sore lips, bitten beyond relief and trapped between my teeth even now as I dread the response. Regret floods my chest as soon as the check mark appears. He’s up. Now what do I say?

Hey! I’m up lol. What’s up?

Before I can comprehend it, I’m backpedaling down the cliff from my insistent thoughts and sending a harmless text. 

I’m bored lol. What are you doing? 

This doesn’t concern him. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t be asking him for help when I barely know him. Thoughts such as these overtake my mind, confirming my regret for even contacting him.

I set the phone down on the table and gaze around the unlit space. Only the city lights of night time Seoul flash across the carpet, casting my lonely figure and the living room in a melancholy blue. Under the same blue lights, my roommate Eliza and I lay across one another on the couch, talking about whatever comes to our minds. The muted atmosphere only adds to the domesticity. But now that she’s away, and I’m alone, they’ve become a reminder that each light has a life connected to it. And each one will go to bed with someone they care about close by. 

I tuck my feet beneath me and sink lower into the couch. Closing my eyes doesn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from targeting my psyche. 

You’re such a fool. An idiot for thinking you were strong enough. You’ll never escape this. You’ll always be this way. There will never be an end-

I dive for the vibrating phone on the table and answer it without blinking. 

“Hello?” A harsh sting covers my lip at how raspy my voice sounds. Hopefully, he’ll credit it to the phone signal.

“Hey,” Hoseok’s voice is piqued with interest. “If you’re so bored, why aren’t you asleep?” 

The playful question only presses guilt further in my chest. I pull the phone away to clear my throat and test out the tonality of a voice that’s been crying for the past three hours.

I force a chuckle to cover how miserable I really am. “How about you? What are you doing up so late?”

Hoseok hums and I can see his smile and twinkling eyes clear as day. “I’m working on a new song.” 

“Oh? Really? What’s it about?” Thankful to have a less threatening topic to focus on, I press him for questions in an almost desperate manner. 

He tsks in response. “That’s top secret. You’ll have to wait until it’s released.” 

The deflation in my chest hurts to a point I was not expecting. My smile falters again into trembling lips and I have to pull the phone away once again to look up at the ceiling and blink away hot tears. 

I suppose I just needed something else to take my attention for awhile, but the entire universe seems to be telling me no. 

“Important business, huh?” I retort after collecting myself again. 

A second goes by before a sharp peal of laughter erupts on the receiver. “Yeah! Yes, that’s exactly what it is. Important business. Top secret.”

I smile and yet tears scald my cheeks until they fall from my chin. Pretending to hold a playful conversation with him, as if mere seconds ago the thought of ending myself wasn’t exploding in my head, is too surreal. My throat constricts past the point of speaking and I lower the phone, tapping the speaker before I set it on the table. 

I grab the nearest couch pillow and bury my face into it. With a death like grip, I squeeze the comforting material to me, hoping to suppress the despair coating me in waves.

The silence no doubt passes as a comfortable one in his mind, as he searches for something to say. 

“How is Eliza doing?” He asks.

“She’s...um…” I swallow down another cry and try to gather the latest news she told me. 

“She’s having lots of fun. Yesterday she went to this sushi bar she really wanted to try out.” I say, clinging to the pillow for dear life. There was no way I was going to ruin her day by telling her years of repressed memories came flooding back. Besides, she would worry and take the next flight home.

Hoseok offers an affirmative noise. Some shuffling of papers can be heard and then what I guess is the squeak of his studio chair as he leans back in it. 

“How are you doing?” 

The words cut through the air snatching my breath. I stare at the lit phone screen as my grip becomes tighter. The rope of desperation curls impossibly tight in my stomach. I part my lips, knowing I have to answer in a reasonable amount of time but my mind can’t fathom a believable response short  of “I feel like I might do something I’ll regret.” 

The silence grows too long and Hoseok’s voice repeats the question, now in a softer, confused tone. “Y/N? Are you still there? Are you okay?” 

The question breaks me and I collapse into my hands, tears unabashedly soaking my fingers. Slippery palms fall past my lips and fail to disguise the sob that breaks through in a fractured word. 

“No-

I don’t know if he can hear me, but there’s no way I’ll be able to collect myself again. Should I just hang up and text him? Create some excuse as to why the call was cut short? 

My hands tremble against my face. I press them against my cheeks, feeling how hot my skin is. Sitting up, the clenching of my stomach becomes suffocating. A strangled breath hitches in my chest as everything goes cold. 

Oh no. Shit. Fuck no.

The signs of a panic attack are bypassed completely. Normally, I would have time to talk myself down before it happens. Due to the past few hours, my body has had enough of being repressed. 

“Hos...Hoseok?” I gasp through a temporary burst of oxygen. 

“Yes? Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you crying?” His voice has flown from lax and playful to frightened urgency.

Guilt crushes my response. Instead, I focus on exhaling away the black spots that bloom over my eyes. 

“Sorry...I just...I don’t want to-” 

“Are you home? Do you want me to come over? I’ll be right there. Don’t move, baby, I’m coming. Don’t move. Just...stay there okay?” 

Hoseok ends the call before I can even process his words. Before it dawns on me that he just called me ‘baby’. If I wasn’t fighting to stay conscious, I might be having a completely different breakdown on that alone. 

I shakily stand to my feet, trying to find something to focus on other than the panic numbing me to the core. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to go. I just wanted to sleep. I didn’t want to call Hoseok. I shouldn’t have ever texted him because now-

Now he’ll see me as I really am. 

I stumble to the wall and flick on the lights. I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes, taking deep breaths. Cries faithfully escape my mouth, but I no longer have the strength to mute how pitiful I sound. I gaze around the stark contrast of the room under fluorescents.

I should at least look presentable. I should straighten up. I should wash my face. I could make tea. 

I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I need to calm down. 

All these suggestions make their claim as I sink to the floor and curl in on myself. I focus on breathing deeply, starting over every time a cry cuts short my oxygen. 

Before I’ve gone through the exercise three times, there’s a rapid knocking on the door. 

“Y/N!” Under different circumstances, Hoseok would sound furious rather than panicked. I lift my head, willing myself to at least stop crying long enough to open the door and save some face. 

As soon as I remove the top lock, the door swings open and reveals a distraught Hoseok. Normally put together down to the shoelaces he wears, the disheveled man stands before me anything but. Puffy wide eyes flit all over my face beneath hair sticking up in all directions, some strands falling between his alerted gaze.

He grabs my shoulders, bomber jacket crinkling with the quick motion. 

“What’s happening? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did someone get hurt? Can I come in?” A volley of questions and his hands push me backwards into the apartment. He slams the door shut with his heel. 

I part my lips but tears only fall in response to all the questions. A horrid choke emits from my throat and Hoseok sighs, nodding his head. 

“I’m here now.” He takes a moment to calm himself down, replacing his worries with his palms sliding down over my shoulders in reassuring squeezes until he grabs my hand in his. 

It’s as if I’ve become paraplegic, subject to only Hoseok’s calm but firm grip situating my body next to his on the couch. He turns on a lamp fully exposing my swollen and distraught eyes. I know how awful I look because I see his eyes widen imperceptibly and his shoulders jerk with an internal gasp. But his mask is more solid than mine and not a word is said about my despairing look. 

He ducks his head so I meet his eyes and when my chin ducks he catches it, ignoring every rule of public decency to raise it in his fingertips and whisper. 

“Look at me. Just breathe with me.” 

I try to inhale but a new wave rises. I grit my teeth. From my shoulders to my stomach, spasms of desperation wrack my body. Hoseok removes his fingertips from my chin and grabs my wrists, yanking on them with gentle urgency brings my palms over his rib cage.

“Y/N. You need to breathe. Feel my chest. Inhale and exhale. Good. Just like that, baby. You can do it.” He repeats his encouragements until with a final shudder I close my eyes and feel the fatigue hit.

“C’mere.” He mutters, collecting me into his chest and resting his chin on top of mine. I inhale his sweet scent, so relaxing and one that embodies the safety of Hoseok to the point I nearly cry again in relief. 

Numbly, I raise my hand to his elbow, gripping the crinkling jacket he still has yet to take off. I turn my forehead to press between his collarbones and sniffle. My nose is disgustingly blocked but he pushes me further against him, as if knowing I was about to draw away. 

“M’sorry.” I whisper into his damp shirt. 

“Don’t apologize.” The words are said with finality and his hand which up until now had been running up and down my back momentarily pauses and presses into my body. 

“Even still,” I raise my head and lean back as far as I can with his arm tucked around my waist. Hoseok gazes down his nose at me, nothing but empathy in his drawn gaze. 

“You shouldn’t have had to see me like this. I shouldn’t have called-”

“I’m glad you called.” He interrupts. “And why shouldn’t you call me? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what I’m here for?” His outburst catches me off guard. Had I offended him?

“But-But Hoseok I’m too mu-”

“You’re not nearly enough for me.” Hoseok releases me as if I had burned him. I blink at him several times. The after effects of the panic attack pounds against my skull. I couldn’t decipher the reason his sudden outburst through the oncoming migraine. 

So I say nothing and simply stare. Waiting for him to explain himself.

Hoseok, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, and mouth agape, looks at me with the most betrayed expression I have ever seen. 

“Rely on me. I want you to rely on me, Y/N. If I have ever made you feel anything other than safe than tell me, please.” 

“You haven’t. I trust you, Hoseok.” I whisper from a throat raw with abuse.

He runs his hand over his hair and shakes his head. Clearing his throat he looks at me again with a smile and even in the dim lighting of the lamp, I see his blush. 

“I don’t know what’s hurting you and I don’t expect you to tell me. But I do want to know. I want to know you’ll tell someone if you’re not okay. Because I’ve noticed - and not in a creepy way but because I just - uh…” 

For the first time tonight, I smile. Hoseok drops eye contact with me, rubbing the back of his neck as he starts at his mismatched shoes.

“I uh...I care about you and you need to hear that from me. Right? Yes, I care about you more than I have for someone before and- and I think you are one of the strongest people I have ever met. You’re really fucking inspiring even if it feels like you’re just here. B-because I-I can’t even be honest about my true feelings like you can. But every time I hear your story I feel like I can share mine. So don’t stop talking about it. Bu-But you don’t have to tell me...if you don’t want to.” 

He mumbles and smiles and laughs awkwardly but eventually he ends his rambling with a quick glance to my face. 

I meet his nervous expression with one of disbelief. “Me? Strong? Hoseok you don’t even know what I’ve done. I was literally thinking-” 

I cut myself off but Hoseok grabs my hands anyways, gripping them so tightly I resist the urge to wince. His eyes bore into mine and I feel as though he can read my mind, as though he knows exactly what I was going to admit. 

“Y/N.” His voice is shaking. I can’t look at him. 

“Y/N.” Hoarse and pleading. My heart wrenches and before I stop myself I’m meeting Hoseok’s red eyes, wet cheeks and trembling chin. 

“I love you so much. Fuck, I love you. You’re not alone. I’m right here for you.” He swears. The conviction in his voice was more than enough to draw tears to my sore eyes. 

“I-I hate this. I hate this feeling and my thoughts and everything in my life.” The truth comes tumbling out and there’s no stopping it. Somehow, fresh tears stain Hoseok's shirt as I collapse into his awaiting arms. 

“I’ll listen. I’ll listen to all of it. Just tell me everything.” He says in the sweetest, calmest voice I’ve heard him use. 

Stroking my hair, clutching me to his chest close enough to feel his heartbeat against my cheek, I confess my worries, my doubts, my darkness into Hoseok’s chest. I hold onto him for dear life as I whisper all the bad things into the night. And Hoseok, calm as ever, continues to smooth my hair, squeeze my waist, kiss my head and say, 

“It’s alright, love. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Family Fights - Chapter Ten

Summary:  Even the strongest bond, the most loving family, can be broken by nightmares, and the librarian is soon to learn this. As she learns sinister things about a person who she had thought was lost forever, she realizes she will need the help of another witch to get her family back.

Notes:  Yeah, I know this chapter is tiny. When I read my fic planning to see which chapter was next, I honestly wondered what the hell I was thinking when I wrote it. I’ll try to write another chapter until saturday to make up for it. Wishing all of you a wonserful week!

(chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9) (chpt10)

“I’m just saying it’s really weird that they call it ‘The Hundred Years’ War’ if it didn’t really last a hundred years.”

Frida sighed, walking straight to the history session of the library. The three of them still had their bags and their school uniforms, having decided to study at Trolberg’s public library right after they left school.

“Because ‘The Hundred and Sixteen Years’ War’ is kind of a mouthful, don’t you think?” She answered without looking at her friend. “Besides, we’re not even studying that. Where’d you get that from?”

“I saw it on TV yesterday.” Hilda shrugged, and David nodded along with her.

“It’s a misleading name.”

“Anyway.” Frida tried to bring their attention back to the matter at hand before they could go back to that subject. “I don’t know about you, but I want to take as many notes as I can today. There’s this amazing book on the era we’re studying, but we can’t take it home, unfortunately.”

“You could make a copy?” David suggested.

“I might if I don’t finish in time. So let’s get started right away.” She sat down at one of the library’s long tables, putting her backpack on the seat beside her. Her friends joined her and soon they were all studiously getting ready for their exam.

Hilda had picked a relatively new textbook and had set out to answering as many questions as she could, searching through the pages when she didn’t know how to do the exercise and occasionally asking Frida when that also didn’t work.

She was already beginning to get tired and considering suggesting a little break when the librarian walked by their table, pushing the library cart in front of her. Her shoulders were hunched forwards and she didn’t pay much attention to her surroundings, something Hilda realized when the librarian didn’t notice she was there.

“Maven!” She called, low enough for it to be acceptable in a library but loud enough that she was heard. “Good afternoon! How are you doing?”

Maven stopped walking and turned to her, giving her a small, tired looking smile.

“Hey there, Hilda.” The other two kids stopped their studying when they realized who Hilda was talking to. She had grey circles under her eyes, which combined with her pale skin gave her a somewhat ghostly appearance. “I’m… fine.”

Hilda frowned. “You don’t look like it.”

Maven grimaced. She felt like collapsing to the floor at any instant, but she’d hoped the girl wouldn’t notice. She felt that she should have known that her apprentice was smarter than that.

“Can I talk to you in my office? I promise I won’t keep you for long.”

Hilda first looked at her friends for a sign that it was okay for her to go. David shrugged, and Frida nodded in a solemn manner. She got up then, not bothering to close the textbook since she planned on studying more once she came back. After smiling reassuringly at the librarian, she followed her into the office.

It was a small room on the first floor of the library, near the circulation desk. Having left the book trolley behind, Maven opened the door to allow Hilda in. She had a desk with paperwork neatly stacked on it, and a water filter in one of the corners. Hanging on the wall, there was a magnetic board filled with what looked to be reminders written by herself and fliers of activities the library had or would host. It was overall a emotionless place, and the only personal touches Hilda noticed were a picture of Freyja on the desk and a pot with violets by the window sill of the office’s tiny window.

“Sorry for taking you away from your studying.” She said when they were inside, closing the door behind them. She poured herself a glass of water from the filter, and wordlessly offered it to Hilda. When the girl declined, shaking her head, she took a sip.

“Don’t worry about it. So there is something bothering you?” The question was superfluous. Of course there was something bothering her, there had been ever since her sister had left and had only gotten worse recently. The true question to be asked was ‘why do you look like a wreck?’, but Hilda was far too polite to say that.

Maven sighed, and then swallowed what was left of her water.

“I’ve been staying up all night recently.” She said, and Hilda could all but feel the exhaustion on her voice. “I’ve been pushing my magic as far as I can to find where Myra is staying. She has got to be living somewhere in Trolberg. If only I could find her…”

“You would be able to talk to her.” Hilda finished, coming to understand the situation. “It would make things easier.”

“It might.” Truth be told, it didn’t matter if it helped them or not. Maven just wanted to be able to see her sister and know that she was being taken care of. Thus why she was using her abilities to magically search into every house, looking for signs of her sister’s energy imprint. It was a tiresome process, and many times she’d been led the wrong way by clues of Myra’s presence in houses she had haunted. It was hard to say when she would manage to finish, and with the luck she was having, Myra would probably be at the last house she would check.

“But you really shouldn’t be doing this to yourself, you know.” The librarian blinked, surprised at her words. Hilda continued speaking. “It’s really not healthy to you. Truly, you’d benefit from getting some regular sleep. And I bet using too much magic is not helping you out either.”

“I’m not that tired.” Maven lied stubbornly, even as her bones ached with fatigue. “I’ll be okay. At least until I find her.”

“Well, you won’t find her if you work yourself to death!”

The librarian was tempted to be angry at her apprentice. She was an adult, and perfectly able to take care of herself without a little girl telling her what to do. But the warning seemed to come from a place of such genuine concern that she couldn’t bring herself to be mad. Though she had to admit that it was amusing to receive this advice from the girl who had accepted to be tormented by the marra solely to help a friend.

“We’ll discover a way.” Hilda said gently. “It will be fine, I promise. Just take care, okay?”

Surprisingly, Maven found herself nodding. “Okay.”

“Maybe I could try to help you with whatever spell you’ve been doing to track her down?” She suggested. “Two witches have got to work better than one.”

The librarian smiled at her eagerness, but denied. “It’s not the type of thing you should be doing just yet. I don’t you to pressure your magic into something it’s not ready for. Still, thank you for offering.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She reached out to touch Maven’s shoulder, and this time Maven didn’t startle. She found she was getting quite used to Hilda’s tactile nature. “I guess I’ll get back to my studying, then. See you Saturday?”

“Yes, I'll stop by your house on our usual time.” When Hilda had let her hand fall to her side again, Maven opened the door for the girl. “Send my regards to your mother.”

“I will! And you take care of yourself, Mave!”

The librarian scrunched her nose at the nickname, but before she could say anything, Hilda was already out of sight, probably hidden by one of the gigantic bookshelves. She chuckled and locked the office’s door again, ready to get back to her tasks.

“What a funny little girl.”

_#_#_#_

“I’m very worried for her, Alfur. I’m not so sure that she will stop looking.” Hilda admitted, looking at the ceiling. The lights in her room were already off, and she was lying on her bed, snuggling under the blankets as she talked to her friend.

“That could cause a problem.” Alfur, who was listening to her from the shelf, answered. “There’s only so much magic a witch can do before running out of strength. If that happens, she’ll be vulnerable for quite some time. And it will only be worse if she’s not taking care of her physical body.”

Hilda sighed, turning into her side. She’d been able to keep her worries at bay during the day, even going so far as telling her mother that the librarian was fine when she asked. But now, left alone with her thoughts, she was beginning to get nervous again. So she’d called Alfur to talk to her. His solutions weren’t always the best, but he never failed to make her feel better. He made her feel that he had her back.

“I want to help, but I don’t know how.” She said, her mind going back to Maven’s red eyes and slumped posture.

“You’ve already done enough, I’m sure she appreciated having you to talk to. But tell me again, what does this Myra look like?”

“Not very tall. Long dark hair, but Maven says it was lilac once. She was wearing a fur lined jacket and a skirt when I saw her in the marra’s camp. Why the question?”

Alfur scratched his chin, the cogs in his brain turning as he contemplated something that might just work.

“Just wanted to know. Now you should get some rest yourself.” Before mum hears us talking and comes here to tell you to sleep, he thought. Hilda seemed to accept the suggestion, and soon the elf heard her breathing deepen.

He ran back inside the clock which he used as his room and put a sheet of paper in front of him. As soon as he was finished, he’d leave the house to find the closest elf post station, and hopefully he’d be back before Hilda was awake.

Knowing there was no time to lose, he picked a pen up and began his letter.

“Dear Great Raven,

Hilda needs your help.”

[robinskalechip]

home - chapter one

robin buckley x reader

not really reader bc i put a name in place of it but its a robin x character that doesn’t actually exist

a/n: this is my first fic so bare with me, im also taking requests for mostly hcs and oneshots

not my gif!

chapter one - the first meeting

robin was into her second week as a high school senior and she was already ready to be done and over with the school year. everyone was moping around and pointing out all of their precious “lasts” of their high schools years while robin didn’t care much. band was the only thing that came to mind that she would miss.

after school, robin worked at the video store with steve and it was as if nothing had changed. she still kept count of how many times he failed at picking up girls. the kids still rushed in to see them, minus will and el who would have loved the discounted movie rentals. most of the time the kids didn’t even buy or rent the movies. they just had steve or robin put the movie of their choosing on the television in the store and they would sit there and watch while robin would keep on eye out for keith so they didn’t get in trouble.

robin was currently in the back of miss foster’s second period advanced english class, her head buried in a book she had been dying to read for a while that foster had gotten her hands on specifically for robin. miss foster could see robin perfectly and didnt mind that she didn’t have her eyes on the board because she knew robin was at least 60% listening and she probably could teach the class for her.

robin’s head shot up when she heard a subtle knock to her right. she looked up to see a girl in denium pants with a matching jacket that seems sligtly oversized. underneath she wore a simple pink tee shirt that was almost a peach color and a pair of black combat boots to tie the whole outfit together.

robin was always one to notice the details.

on her hands, she sported multiple simplistic rings and robin could barely see the leather bracelet that was being hidden by the jacket sleeves. her hair was messy, but in a way that made her seem put together if that makes sense. similar to robin’s, just darker and a bit fuller.

the stranger had her head peaking from the slightly opened classroom door and knocked once more.

“is this a bad time?”

robin had never seen miss foster’s face light up so quickly. she hurried her way from behind her desk to approach the girl.

the girl met her half way, her face now as bright as the sun with a smile as she received a tight hug from miss foster. foster then turned to the class, hand still on the girl’s back, and said “this is one of the good ones ” as she pointed to her, still smiling.

“what have you been up to”

the girl still carried her bright smile as she spoke, “i’m actually a junior journalist at the times”

somehow foster became even happier but was cut short when a student at the front of the class cleared his throat.

“can we get back to the lesson please”

robin didnt know the kid, not even his name. but she knew she didn’t like him. he was one of those kids that took high school way too seriously. as if he would die if a couple of minutes of the lesson were taken out. maybe he’s not as smart as he thinks he is because robin is doing just fine and she’s barely paying attention half the time.

the girl was polite about it, not showing any negative response. “i have a few other stops to make but i should be in town a while, i’m sure i’ll see you the next time i go to get a bagel or get gas”

foster smiled, “okay miss milani, stay out of trouble”

milani

robin felt the name was familiar. she could see some students from the other side of the room whispering amongst themselves.

the girl started to make her way back to the back of the room. robin watched her closely. she saw her smile drop slightly as she saw the students whispering and she guessed they saw her because the noise came to a sudden stop.

on her way out, her and robin’s eyes met for a brief moment. a small smile appeared on both of their faces as the girl exited.

robin had never felt more vulnerable yet more as peace then she had in those three seconds.

about ten minutes later the bell rang and robin quietly gathered her things and headed upstairs to mr. andrew’s advanced biology class, aka the one class she was struggling with this year despite it being one of her best subjects in prior years.

as she stepped through the doorway, her heart began to beat a little faster.

the girl who had previously interrupted miss foster’s class was now sat on mr. andrew’s front lab table. the two were talking and laughing. robin thought to herself, i guess she got on with a lot of the teachers here.

robin tried to remain calm as she searched her folder for her lab report she was meant to turn in yesterday. she decided to take care of dustin while he was home sick, today was steve’s turn. we love parenting. robin didn’t know why she was feeling so hectic but she tried her best to calm herself down as she walked to the front of the class, directly to mr. andrew, whose back was towards her as he spoke to the girl.

“andrew you got a patient”

mr. andrew turned around, arms folded and still smiling as he looked at robin. “ah miss buckley, we missed you yesterday.”

robin could feel the girl’s eyes on her as she tried to maintain eye contact with her teacher.

“im sorry, sir. i would have turned my lab in the day before if i had known i was going to be out-“

mr. andrew cut her off, “it’s no problem, really. i havent even started grading any of the labs yet.” he gave her a warm smile.

robin wondered why he was in such a good mood and her mind only went to one place; her.

mr. andrew took the paper from robin’s possession and went to his filing cabinet to place it in the current period’s file. in this process he was approached by another student as robin started to turn around to return to her desk until she was cut off once again, this time from the body on the lab table.

“you were in foster’s class, right?”

robin turned around slowly.

“yeah, you were the one who interrupted the class and made that imbecile have a cow”

the girl laughed, causing robin to as well. robin liked her laugh. it reminded her of the way the smith’s music made her feel; euphoric, even if for a short while.

the girl jumped down from the counter and extended her hand, “i’m sofia”

robin smiled as she took her hand, “i’m robin”

sofia

why does robin feel like she knows this name

“you’ve got two of the best teachers in hawkins, i hope you know that”. it seemed like no matter what this girl was saying she had a brightness to her, robin felt like she was going insane but in the best way possible.

“yeah i’m really enjoying them so far, it’s only been a couple of weeks but i think we all have a mutual understanding of each other. foster knows i don’t directly pay attention but i know what’s happening and andrew knows i am only a unit in and i’m already lost”

she laughed again

“biology was a bitch for me too. try asking for mrs. samuel in the library, she helped me out loads before i left. that was just for regular bio but she seems to know what she’s doing.”

“how long have-“

robin was cut off by the mr. andrew telling the class to take their seats as he wrote down the days objectives.

the girl had briefly turned her attention to him to say goodbye and then followed behind robin as she went to leave, stopping once she reached robin’s desk.

she picked up the book robin had accidentally left on her desk as she was searching her bag and read to quietly to herself, “the price of salt”

robin was still standing by her chair as she looked at the girl staring at the novel, feeling slightly uneasy about the reaction she might recieve. but all that anxiety was quickly whisked away as the girl smiled at her, book still in hand.

“it’s one of my favorites. its an absolutely beautiful love story”

her face seems even brighter somehow, perhaps she really liked the story.

the two looked at each other a little too long, but surprisingly, despite just meeting, had no “awkward silence” between them

“i’ll leave you to andrew but um..check out mrs. samuel and i’ll hopefully see you around”

the girl headed out of the door and turned her head slightly at the last minute to give robin another warm smile that which robin returned as if it was almost instinctive.

robin thought about that smile for the rest of the day.

next chapter

[cancerbiophd]

Hi Julia, hope your day is going well! Do you have any tips for how to avoid getting discouraged when things don't go as planned for weeks or even months at a time? It's ok when the science "fails" and I need to troubleshoot, but find it really upsetting to continually make mistakes that could have been avoided. I've been in my lab for a year now, and I am STILL doing things that are costing me days to weeks to even months of time. My labmates aren't very supportive, which doesn't help

My PI is amazing but is busy and I don’t always ask the right questions. I feel like I’m failing again and again because I just don’t KNOW to check for certain things (I don’t make the same mistake twice). Did you experience this in the beginning of your degree? Does this ever stop? My PI has said that “being okay with failure” sometimes distinguishes who will and will and will not continue with science.. but this feels like personal failure, not science failure. Thanks for your help!!

Hello my dear! My day is going pretty great, thank you! 

I’m sorry to hear you’re going through a tough and frustrating time. I know how that feels, and it don’t feel too good! So let’s see if we can make things better!

If I understand your message correctly, the mistakes you’re making in lab stem from being unfamiliar with the protocol/techniques used? And such mistakes are hard to avoid because you’re not receiving the best support and guidance? 

I’m going to break this answer into 3 parts to try to cover as much as I can:

How to work with feelings of discouragement

Some things to try to mitigate mistakes in the lab

Some general questions to ask your PI regarding an unfamiliar protocol

On tackling feelings of discouragement:

A post on what I do when I have a bad science day (scroll to halfway down the post)

Take some time off for self-care, to stabilize your emotions, and to basically recharge. I try to not work in the evenings after dinner, and instead use that time to relax and unwind by doing something that’ll take my mind off work. Here’s a post on how to deal with/prevent burn-out. 

And always remember: You have survived all of your bad days. And you will survive today too. 

Also, “Success isn’t a measure of how many times we fall; it’s measured by how many times we get back up”. Be like Carol Danvers! Get knocked down? Get knocked down a lot? That’s ok! Just get back up. Get back up each and every single time!!!

Here’s a good post from a fellow grad student also dealing with failed experiments about the best way to look at experiences that challenge us (it’s geared specifically towards grad school, but is definitely applicable to many other things in life). It made me feel better when I saw the post, so I hope it’ll let you feel the same way!

As for me: I’ve definitely made my fair share of mistakes whenever I started in a new lab or tried out a new technique/protocol for the first time. And I still make mistakes, even in my 5th year of grad school and hmm almost 8 years of lab experience. Heck, just yesterday I kept missing treatment time-point after time-point because I wasn’t paying attention to the time! And this was like a protocol I’ve done dozens of times before. But, it doesn’t mean I’m less worthy of a grad student, scientist, or person; it was just a thing that happened, a thing that’s a part of life. I know we scientists aren’t alone in making mistakes, even after decades of experience. Otherwise malpractice insurance for doctors wouldn’t be a thing, right! So even the most experienced person will still make mistakes, because that’s part of being human. And biology in general now that I think about it, because not even polymerases are perfect when copying DNA.

It’s ok to make mistakes, especially if you’re essentially learning as you go. It’s all part of the growing process, and thus a part of life. But once we’ve made those mistakes, then we’ll need to think about how to avoid them next time (like I’m definitely gonna start setting alarms on my phone for time-points), and also how to prepare for new things in a way that’ll decrease mistakes being made in the first place.

Some things to consider doing in lab to mitigate mistakes:

Do as much online research beforehand as you can about the technique/protocol/equipment/reagents/etc, so you can actively understand the process, such as knowing which steps to be extra careful on. Not necessarily spending hours reading every methods paper out there, but spending some time googling the technique, the equipment, learning the basic science behind it, etc will be helpful. 

Look up videos of the technique online. Youtube and JOVE are fantastic resources for this. When I first started doing tissue cell culture, I looked up a bunch of videos on basic techniques so I knew what to expect, and it definitely helped because my brain didn’t need to focus on seeing something new for the first time (like a cell flask), and could actually pay attention to the person teaching me. 

Type up a version of the protocol with your personalized detailed notes (eg. if a reagent needs to be diluted ahead of time). I modify protocols all the time with my own little reminders and cheatsheets (esp for calculations), and they’re sometimes a work-in-progress for months. 

If possible, try to do a practice run first with unimportant samples so you get a hang of things. If that’s not possible, instead go into the space where you’ll be doing the experiment and just go through the steps in your head (with the power to fast-forward incubation/wait times of course), including walking over to this fridge for reagent x, and that chemical cabinet for reagent y, etc. 

Talk out-loud as you do the steps. I find this helps me during complicated protocols or if I have a ton of samples. (I work in an open-lab space so I’m sure the people next door are like wth but listen, I’d rather they think I have an invisible friend than mess up an experiment!)

Try not to schedule too much to do during the day of the experiment, so you don’t feel like you need to rush anything. I also like to plan out how long each step will take time-wise, and then calculate how long the whole experiment will take me (+ an extra 30 min to 1 hr), so I can plan the rest of my day around that experiment (or vice versa). 

Prepare as much as you can before the actual experiment, such as labeling tubes, laying out tools, doing all the calculations, making reagents, etc. 

Sometimes listening to something (like music) helps people concentrate, especially when doing repetitive stuff like lab work. My lab manager has to have netflix playing on her phone while running experiments; I think the background noise helps her stay focused. 

Talking to your PI:

I know your PI is busy (and all PI’s are), but they have a responsibility to make sure things are going well in the lab, as these results are literally their livelihood! So I don’t think it’s too much to ask the PI to meet with you for even just 30 min to discuss an experiment. I also think it’ll be a good idea moving forward to schedule a 1 hr weekly meeting with your PI to discuss this and other things, like data, etc, if you haven’t done so already. 

Here are some general questions to ask your PI regarding a new protocol:

“I’m going to be doing this for the first time. Is there anything I should be aware of before I start?” 

“Do you have any tips for this protocol?” or “Are there any resources related to this protocol you think will be beneficial for me to look at before I start?”

“Could you take a look at my experimental design/calculations?” or “I have a question specifically about ____. Do you have a minute to make sure I planned/calculated it right?” 

A few last words:

Things will get better. You will get more experienced as you take everything one step at a time, one day at a time. And as that happens, you’ll learn the best way to design experiments, including what questions to ask your PI. Everything will come with time, and practice. You’re going to be ok anon. You’re going to be ok :)

[ravenpenandpaper]

Not My Baby

TW: Abortion

SOL SYSTEM - EARTH - CANADA - VANCOUVER (DECEMBER 1976)

Sophia and Edward Toombs had met during Michael’s first shore leave, back in ‘72, before she could enlist in the Alliance.

She had just turned eighteen at the time, still living with Olivia, Joseph and Sarah. Sophia couldn’t bear to call them family, not with the thinly veiled insults, the lack of care and overall the non-existent companionship with them. She could even understand why her mum and dad had kept them away. Michael had come to represent everything she wanted; the possibility of being away from earth, and thus Olivia McCain.

Michael’s temporary flat was tiny; it had a bed and a couch which doubled as a second bed, a kitchen and a bathroom. Tiny, cramped and smelling of a foul combination of feet and grease, and everything Sophia could’ve wanted at that time. Alone, with acquaintances instead of friends and still grieving, it was little wonder she had fallen for the dashing soldier sharing Michael’s tiny, cramped and smelly flat.

They had fooled around for those two weeks, she had given herself to him in the back of a skycar, and they had started dating before she went back to Olivia’s house.

They had settled on a friends with benefits thing, eventually, one disastrous attempt at a relationship later.

That had been five years ago, before she enlisted, before she had tasted battle, before she even knew what she truly wanted out of her life. Rather, what she didn't want in her life.

Sophia looked around at the nondescript clinic, the white walls and creamy undertones, the nurses and doctors walking around tending to their wards, the other women with appointments for one procedure or another.

“Are you sure about this?” Her brother asked, squeezing her hand.

“I don’t want it.” She shook her head, looking down at her flat stomach. She had gotten the standard subdermal contraceptives when she enlisted, and while she knew, logically, that no method was 100% safe, she never would’ve thought hers would fail. Not with the training she was under, not with her biotics.

“No, I know that,” Michael looked at her, an eyebrow raised, “I mean, are you sure you don’t wanna tell Toombs?”

“He would just try to talk me out of this, some weird sense of duty I think,” she sighed, slouching in her seat, “and it’s not his decision to make. He made sure it wasn’t his decision.”

“I just think-”

“Look,” she interrupted, glaring at him, “we sleep together sometimes, he made it very clear that’s all he wanted from me. Not a relationship, not even a friendship, all he wants is to fuck me.” She fumed, squeezing her eyes shut. “And I let him because he’s good at it.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“Then don’t ask!”

“Sophia Shepard?” The nurse called before they could start arguing again, a confused look in her eyes as she looked from one sibling to the other.

“Yeah, hi, that’s me.” She smiled without meaning to, a little on the awkward side, her stomach suddenly in knots.

“Hey, hey,” Michael stood up, taking a hold of her hand, and squeezing it again, “we got this, I’ve got your back.” She nodded at him, gripping his hand back.

“Nervous?” The nurse asked, leading them inside a room with an ultrasound machine, the screen dark, though there was a low hum to the place.

“A little, afraid it’s gonna hurt.” She shrugged, by all accounts she shouldn't be scared of a little pain.

“You’ve literally been shot at before.”

“Not in my uterus I haven’t!”

“All right,” the nurse interrupted, handing Sophia a light blue gown, “I'll need you to strip from the waist down and lay on the bed, we’re gonna start with the ultrasound, just like we talked yesterday, remember?”

She did. Ultrasound first, then the procedure. The knots in her stomach weren’t getting any better.

She changed into the hospital gown in the attached bathroom, before entering the room again and laying down on the cold bed. This part she knew from previous exams, this part was fine, for this she had Michael to hold her hand.

Her eyes were glued to the screen as the doctor started the ultrasound. The blob inside her looked like an ink stain, vaguely shaped like a bean. Just a clump of cells, causing her a lot of trouble. She was never sleeping with Toombs ever again.

She barely noticed the nurse attaching an IV with pain medication to her arm, her eyes fixed on the screen. That little clump of cells had the potential to be a person, had the potential to grow into a fully formed baby. The thought alone made her nauseous.

“Having second thoughts?” Michael asked quietly, Sophia had been staring at the screen in apparent confusion for a good minute.

“No, I'm not parent material,” she shuddered, “at this point I just want it out of me.”

“Fair.” He sighed, fidgeting in place; from that moment on, there was nothing more he could do, it was all on her. “It’s time for me to leave, I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

She nodded, breathing deeply as the doctor started. She though the pain would be worse, but it was just a sharp cramp,  near the worst menstrual cramps she had had, but still; just cramps.

Laying still in the recovery room, waiting for the meds to work through her system, she checked the messages received in the interim. Alliance Command general warnings, Sergeant Danvers with her new shipping orders, Jonathan with yet another Turian meme, ANN feed about the Batarian situation in the traverse…

Life as usual.

“Hey, how you feeling?”

“I don't know,” she breathed in deeply, turning to look at him, “like I should feel guilty, but I don't, I'm just relieved right now. It's over, I can go back to my own life.” She paused, eyes distant for a moment. “Also like mum would hate me for this.”

“Yeah, well,” he fidgeted with his hands, before dragging a chair to sit near his sister. “Mum’s not here, not anymore, who can say what she would think?”

“Olivia, or so she thinks.”

“Honestly, fuck Olivia, she’s been horrible to you ever since you met her, her opinion shouldn't matter.” The implied ‘she’s not family’ hung between them a moment too long. “Hey, did you get new orders? Danvers is sending me on supply and security missions.” He said, looking at her omni-tool. Despite both being in the fifth fleet, they rarely had missions together, something about keeping the Shepard siblings apart.

“Yeah, I haven’t opened yet.” She sighed again, trying to find a comfortable position, the cramps were coming over again, but she knew that was just part of the process. “Where are they sending you?”

“Terra Nova, with a supply and scout run on a nearby planet. Then Akuze, security detail for the scientists there.”

“Fun,” the sarcasm dripped from Sophia’s voice as she looked at him. “Hey, just thought I should let you know, Toombs and I? Over, forever, just gotta notify him.”

“Hey, as long as you don’t hook-up with Jonathan,” he laughed, leaning back on the waiting chair.

“Neither of us is particularly interested, besides, I heard Turians are much more fun.” She grinned at him, full of teeth and mischief.

“Turian? Really?”

“Bigger di-”

“I really really don’t want to know.” Michael interrupted. “You wanna try Turian? Fine, just spare me the details.”

She laughed, despite the frankly shitty day, there would be good tidings ahead of them, hopefully.

[fearofyoongi-blog]

I Bloom For You | Minjoon

pt. 4

tags: college au, clique au, minjoon angst, mentions of taejin, sugakookie, fuck boy!jin

main character: kim namjoon

word count: 4210

read series here! 

ALSO! If you’re following this series, please inbox me (anon or not!) and tell me which part you would like for me to work on next! 

Taejin (Taehyung’s perspective)

Minjoon (Jimin’s perspective)

Sugakookie (Yoongi’s perspective/JK’s perspective)

The morning casts through Namjoon’s window without apology. It was the worst way to wake up, he would say. Blindly the upperclassman stretched his palm towards the sun as he releases the loudest yawn of his life. His vision is the second sense to arrive to him. Sleep deprived and exhausted from the night before, he peeks one eye after the other. Luckily, he’s in his own room. His friends didn’t prank him, and he wasn’t waking up to a stranger in his bed.

Despite his exhaustion, it wasn’t because of stupidity. For once. Namjoon spent the entire night on the phone with Jimin, an underclassman he’s been pursuing for a couple of weeks now, pretending he didn’t know how to complete his Discrete Math assignment. They were on the phone for nearly three hours when Hoseok knocked on Namjoon’s door and told him to quiet down. Joon would’ve did it, but Jimin insisted it was late and he should go to bed.

He would’ve fought him, but Jimin cares about his schooling. Well, Namjoon does too, but certainly not as much as the other.

Namjoon scraped by on charms and natural intelligence. The guy picked up on more than he let on. Exchanging a good attendance record for free time, late or partial credit over the A’s he could be receiving. Freedom was important to him. Well, he had a lot of free time, and he wished he could spend it getting to know Jimin, but that was proven harder than expected. Namjoon had a feeling that Jimin liked being chased. For the last week in particular, the two have been non-stop texting and calling. At first, this was not intentional. Jimin is genuinely a busy student. With five classes this semester, Student Government Association, Namjoon respected that Jimin barely has time to squeeze in an episode of his favorite anime let alone a relationship.

And perhaps Jimin could sense the effect it was having on Joon. Each event for SGA that Jimin participates in, Namjoon lurked the crowd. Waving, smiling, pointing at his phone to get Jimin to check his own. It was endearing. A little odd, but endearing.

Today was no different than any other day. Namjoon woke and flooded Jimin’s phone with text messages. Nothing too obnoxious, or clingy. Joon simply determined today would be the day they would get to hang out face-to-face. They really haven’t since they had sex in the library’s bathroom.

NAMJOON: You have a free hour today, don’t you?

JIMIN: Maybe

NAMJOON: Can I see you today then?

Additionally, Jimin somehow learns not to answer quickly. Namjoon is surprised by how fast he was learning the whole process of cat-and-mouse. He doesn’t take the space between messages to heart anymore. Assuming the underclassman is working on his morning routine, Namjoon finishes up that last-minute homework assignment for Discrete Math before he ever hears back from Jimin.

He’s walking to the bathroom that is shared in the apartment. Scratching his stomach under his shirt and stretching once more as he reaches the toilet. Just before he goes to pee, he shoots Jimin another text.

NAMJOON: I could grab you coffee? I’m skipping my classes today.

JIMIN: Skipping class again? Seriously?

He knows how it sounds. He knows that Jimin thinks it’s ridiculous to skip as much as he does, but this was Joon’s second-to-last semester at this college. Perfect attendance was the last thing on his mind.

NAMJOON: I’ll come to school and go to my classes if you agree to let me buy you coffee. And see you.

Joon smirks to himself. This was thin ice he enjoyed skating on. There was something thrilling about coming up with various excuses for absences. Most of his professors are understanding, and others don’t seem to mind since he is a friendly guy with a lovable personality.

He is smart enough to get him out of any failing situation anyway.

It’s a trait he picked up early on during his sophomore year. Most instructors had these five-free-absences rule and Namjoon did one helluva job planning his academic career around those free passes. By no means was he dumb. Not one bit. There were some instances where the instructors didn’t help him which resulted in failing grades, but there were always other semesters. Namjoon became an expert at combining an understanding the material, never sitting in an unnecessary lecture, and schmoozing the instructor. It was the perfect recipe to a successful college life.

NAMJOON: Your buddy Jungkook provided some useful information about your likes and hobbies.

Namjoon saw Yoongi and Jungkook yesterday when he was at Yoongi’s apartment. They ate sushi and played Spades and talked about Jimin. To be honest, most of the reason that Joon was there had to do with gaining intel on Jimin.

A soft chuckle escapes him. He can see the typing bubble disappear and reappear multiple times within the chat. Well, at least this got under Jimin’s skin. He wants to press him about what Jungkook said, but decides against it. Instead his attention is grabbed by other messages pouring in.

JIMIN: I’ll see how I feel later. I just woke up.

NAMJOON: I won’t take no for an answer today.

He sends the message off before going back to his main conversation page of his phone and sees his group chat with Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi.

YOOGNI: Hyung… Where are you right now?

JIN: With a friend ;)

Namjoon tilts his head.

After that response, Joon resorts to not getting involved. His phone chimes and it’s Jimin again.

JIMIN: I didn’t give you an answer.

Namjoon laughs quietly to himself. Again, Jimin has to find this fun. Namjoon himself finds this to be a challenge he quite enjoys. Namjoon merely assumes that no one has ever paid Jimin this much attention in awhile. Sue him for embracing it.

Shoving his phone in his pocket, he continues with his morning routine. Coffee, bagel sandwich, study packet review for his Economics class, and he stuffs his pockets with a wallet, headphones, and his cellphone.

As he walks to the park, his phone is non-stop buzzing. Literally. Non-stop. Jimin isn’t usually this pushy, so he brushes it off as the guy being cute and reaches into his pocket to silence the phone. He doesn’t have the energy or time to think about anything other than what he should do for the day.

And Namjoon’s day went as followed:

He visited his favorite park and studied Economics notes from his phone.

He reviewed an essay due in Positive Psychology Honors, which Joon is certain he wrote well.

He walked the downtown area until he noticed an anime festival happening in the center of a park. Jimin would like this. He needs to see this. So he caves. Despite never having checked his phone, he heads back to his part of the grid city.

Then he has a lunch break… without his group of friends? That surprised him. He was sure they would all meet at their favorite cafe, but when no one showed up he took his sandwich and ate it on the way back to school. Maybe they were all waiting for him there.

For the first time since this morning, Joon checks his phone and realizes that he made a grave mistake in not checking it sooner.

The messages that caused his phone to buzz were not from Jimin at all. If anything, Jimin never responded to him again.

He stops walking to scroll through the twenty messages Yoongi and Jin exchanged, but only took out the small pieces of information necessary to understand what was going on.

YOONGI: You’re with Taehyung, aren’t you?

YOONGI: Hyung… Are you out of your mind?

YOONGI: Joonie, say something!

JIN: Is that why you sent this here? So Joon will intervene? What’s he gonna say?

JIN: Tae is fun ;) I need that. He’s a big boy.

YOONGI: Why him? That’s Hoseok’s friend!

JIN: Not anymore.

“Oh shit…” Namjoon hisses to himself, glancing around before sprinting across the large courtyard of the college. He runs up to the library and up the stairs.

The library was the largest building on campus. It contained two levels, the bottom one being the quietest place in the entire school. Joon rarely uses that floor. The back end of the first floor was lined with study rooms, and oftentimes he would rent one for the sake of spending more time with a classmate than necessary. These days, he’ll go in to the room the Student Government Association uses just to wave at Jimin. Again, Namjoon believes the boy likes this attention.

Moreover, the top floor of the library is much more casual. Anyone could go to use the computers, grab books, and hang out between classes.

Faulty bean bags lined the outside where the windows were, as well as round tables with plastic chairs. The walls are painted burgundy red, similar to the school’s logo. And every piece of furniture is either painted gold or some sort of faux gold that turned green over the years. The center contained hip level bookshelves that were, truthfully, falling apart. The twenty computers in the library were old and dated. If an IT degree-seeking student needed a computer for their courses, these would be the last they could ever use.

Hence why Jimin and SGA are trying to make this part of the library more appealing and updated.

As Namjoon enters, his pace slows to a halt and he searches the entire vicinity. Thankful for the short bookshelves and open space only in this moment. When his eyes finally land on a familiar faces, his brows knit together and he approaches with loud stomps.

The first thing he notices straight away are the people missing. Hoseok and Yoongi.

Namjoon spots Jimin and Taehyung off in a corner, talking aggressively to each other.

When Taehyung first started talking to Hoseok, he would hang around the group casually and use Jungkook’s relationship with Yoongi as a reason to hang around. It was fun to have Tae around, and Jin never bothered him before. Why the sudden interest? It confused Joon.

Yoongi has his eyes in his phone, Joon assumes he is texting, while Jin has lovey dovey eyes over something Tae is saying behind him.

“Hyung,” Joon clears his throat to get their attention, specifically Jin. “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the cafe?”

Jin shrugs nonchalantly. “After that whole mess with Jungkook this morning, I didn’t feel like it. Plus, I got brunch with Taehyung after my second class. I’m stuffed.” He’s almost condescending about it, and he grins at Yoongi for assurance.

Yoongi doesn’t give it to him though. Namjoon notices that Yoongi is barely making eye contact.

As Joon is about to speak, Yoongi interjects. “Where were you this morning, Joon? I needed you. A lot of shit went down!” Namjoon takes his lip between his teeth and shrugs at the older male. Without replying, Yoongi bounces out of his seat and collects his things and leaves. No one seems affected, but Joon worries about why Yoongi is so concerned.

“He got into an argument this morning with Jungkook,” Jin answers, obviously reading the look on Jimin’s face. Namjoon observes how Jimin is listening in, but also listening to Taehyung. “I think Jungkook’s having a bad day.”

“Yeah well, gathering what I’m looking at, no one is happy right now…” Namjoon peers up. Jimin and Taehyung are still talking. So, he looks back to Jin. “What’s going on, hyung?”

Taehyung looks at Jin then back at Jimin, then at Jin again.

Namjoon shakes his head. “Okay… Did I miss something?” He sits down in front of Jin with his arms on the table. “What happened to Hobi? Why did Yoongi leave? Why is Taehyung looking at you like a puppy waiting for his master to give him a treat?”

Jin shrugs again, and Joon is about to hit him. Really, hit him. “Hoseok lied to everyone. He has a girlfriend, you know. Never even told me. I found out because Taehyung told me.”

“And? So what? That still doesn’t explain why you’re here with Tae!” Namjoon scowls with flailing arms.

“We just… connected. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. The other day I saw the poor kid sitting in the courtyard and approached him. He told me about Hobi and his girlfriend, and when I told him that we can hang out, he was excited. He isn’t talking to Hoseok because he’s a liar. So… We bonded.”

Namjoon cocks his head. “Bonded? Bonded over what, hyung?”

“A lot of things!” But Jin only wiggles his brows.

Joon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “How did Jungkook find out about you guys then? Why was Yoongi asking about you this morning?”

Jin falls silent for a moment, but his smile grows uncomfortably. But Joon only gives him an epic death glare until he caves. “He slept over our apartment. I didn’t know. Taehyung was there too. So they woke up and saw each other and Taehyung kinda ran.”

“Ran where?”

“Back to my room.” Jin’s toothy and smiling way too wide. Namjoon really wants to knock his teeth in. “You should see him in the morning, Joon-ie. The boy is beautiful.”

Then, it hits him. It hits him why Yoongi asks about him, why Jin said he was with a friend, and why Jimin has Taehyung cornered right now. His eyes flicker between Jimin, Tae, and back to Jin. He releases a sigh. “You’re… Hyung… You’re not…”

But his friend goes quiet again. His smile, his facial expression, the condescending glance he shoots at Jimin speaks volumes though.

“You slept with Taehyung!?” He says it too loudly and captures Jimin’s attention. His eyes land on the blonde boy, but glance back at Jin as he starts laughing again. “This isn’t funny, Jin! You slept with him? Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you!? Who are you?”

In all their years of knowing each other, Namjoon never thought he would ask that question. To Jin, of all people. This was truly shocking. Once upon a time, they sat together in their dorms and talked about… everything. He remembers the night they all came out to one another. When Yoongi finished talking about how hard he fell in love with Jungkook, Jin confessed to being pansexual, and Namjoon said he was gay.

It was a meaningful moment for the boys to share this. Namjoon and Jin agreed that they wanted what Yoongi had. Even if only a taste. What Yoongi had with Jungkook seemed real, it was solid, stable. Something neither truly had in friendships or relationships. Jin is so picky, so conservative, the idea of sleeping with someone he didn’t know well terrified him.

But something in Jin changed. Sometime between Sophomore and Junior year, he changed. He was no longer a shoe-gazing college student with an interest in education or love. No, something happened that caused Jin to become reckless and unattainable.

His parents divorced, his dad moves to the United States, and his mom becomes a drunk.

Namjoon tries to imagine Jin as someone he doesn’t know well. He tries to imagine Jin as a guy with a soft spot, with weaknesses, with some kind of Achilles’ heel that could make Taehyung believe he was different. But he can’t.

These days, Kim Seokjin has a reputation that most people do not choose to associate with. Not voluntarily. Yes, he has loyal, stable friendships with Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok, even they had their frustrations. Yoongi has shared one too many stories about Jin manipulating him into writing essays, Hoseok mentions discounts at his store, and Joon and Jin stopped seeing eye-to-eye a long time ago.

Kim Seokjin does not treat people nicely. Not unless he needs something from them. Not unless he can take something from them.

What could he possibly gain from being with Taehyung though? As far as Joon knows, they have nothing in common.

As Namjoon watches Jimin and Taehyung, he huffs. Tae is storming away, and Jimin is starting to shout behind him. “Don’t you remember the things he told me last week? How I was bet to them? All of that was untrue and he said those things to get under my skin!” Jimin pleas for his friend to see the truth. “He’ll hurt you-- You’ll regret this!”

As Taehyung walks out, Jimin attempts to follow, but Joon stands up and grabs the younger by his forearm. “Stop. Jimin. Stop. Let him go…” He just wants to cut in, to alleviate the tension.

In the short weeks that they’ve built a bond, Namjoon wants to believe that Jimin could trust him. He’s done nothing to prove otherwise. When Jimin needed help with a conflict in SGA, he texted Joon the entire afternoon about it. When Taehyung found out about Hoseok’s girlfriend, Jimin was there, but Namjoon texted Jimin the whole night as a means to stay awake. Yes, their friendship is short-lived, but Namjoon trusts this bond enough and hopes that Jimin would listen to him right now.

He wants Jimin to understand, to calm down, but it backfires as Jimin shoves him away and shakes his head.

“You! You lied to me! You lied straight to my face!” Jimin takes his frustrations out on Joon without thinking twice. “I asked you if he was safe from Hobi and you said yes! You said he would be alright and now look! Look where he’s gone,” He glares back at Jin, who is still ironically grinning from ear-to-ear. Namjoon could kill him. “He’s sunken so low he actually cares about that monster.”

It was enough to cause Jin’s grin to fade. It softens to a frown but Jimin doesn’t look long enough to notice. However, Namjoon mirrors the reaction. He is saddened by his friend’s disappointment, but he doesn’t address it. Not right now. “Jimin, listen-- I’m sorry this happened-- I’m sorry but--”

“But what? You think stopping me from running after Tae is gonna-- is gonna what? Get you laid? You’re not hero in this scenario, Joon. You’re not as high and mighty as you believe. You’re just as bad, if not worse, than the rest of them. You let them believe Hoseok is a bad guy for keeping his relationship from you. You stand by Jin even after Yoongi leaves. Even after you know Jin upset him! There is nothing but toxicity surrounding your friend group. Honestly, Yoongi is your redeeming quality. Isn’t that pathetic? One man, that isn’t even you, he’s your saving grace.” Jimin shoves Joon again. “Do me a favor…” He glares at Jin quickly and then back to Joon. “Both of you… Leave me, and my friends, alone.” He says through his teeth, looking between the upperclassmen once more before storming off.

Namjoon’s eyes follow Jimin as the boy darts out of the library, but his ears catch the cackle that escapes Jin without falter. He turns slowly to face the older guy, feeling disbelief at his reaction. “What’s funny, hyung? What’s so funny right now?” He turns fully to Jin and places his palms on the table. Jin doesn’t answer. Not right away. The guy shakes his head and peers up at Joon, but he doesn’t answer fast enough.

“This is hilarious to you, isn’t it? Watching everyone fall apart under your thumb? This is pure entertainment, huh?” Namjoon asks rhetorically through gritted teeth.

“Relax…” Jin sighs. “Your boyfriend is fine, his friends are fine. They’ll live. You’ll all get over it—“

“Over what, hyung? Hm? You? Your chaotic ways?”

“Ah fuck, not you too, Joon--”

“--Yoongi is pissed at me because of you! Jimin is arguing with his best friend, because of you! And you pitted everyone against Hoseok! You are a puppet master, so you think it’s all going to be fine?”

“I didn’t pit anyone against Hobi!” Jin stands impatiently, leaning on the table and challenging Namjoon’s glare. “He lied to me! He lied to all of us, but that’s fine by you, isn’t it? He told you the truth so everything should just keep going the way it was?” For once, Namjoon doesn’t look away. He doesn’t let Jin win. It’s surprising him. “Yeah, you thought Yoongi wouldn’t tell me. Of course he’s pissed at you. You lied to him too, you know. And Jimin and his friends are not my problem.” Jin glances away as if the conversation is over, as if he won.

Namjoon doesn’t let him win that easily. “—Yoongi cares about Jungkook—“

“Oh, spare me, Joon!”

“—I care about Jimin!”

“That’s not my problem!”

“Hoseok cares about Taehyung!”

“So do I!”

Just like that. There’s silence in the library again. The two friends stand up straight, refusing to look away from each other. But they know that other eyes are on them.

The only thing on Namjoon’s mind is Jin’s confessions. He scoffs in disgust, in disbelief of his friend’s selfishness. “You don’t care about Taehyung. You don’t care about him, your friends, anyone. You only care about what’s convenient for you, what piques your interest. You don’t—“

“Excuse me? Fellas?” Namjoon is interrupted by a short black-haired woman. It’s the librarian’s assistant. She’s mousy but assertive, standing between Jin and Namjoon at the front of the table. “Everything okay over here? Because if this continues, I’ll have to call campus security.”

“Don’t bother,” Jin smiles and shoots her a charming wink. “My friend was just leaving.”

When Jin turns back to look at Namjoon, Joon is already scoffs and shakes his head. “Yeah. Right.” He says, fixing his jaw. As he turns to walk away, he thinks for a moment and chuckles lightly. When he thinks some more, he returns to Jin swiftly. “You know what, you better listen to Jimin. Leave him and his friends alone. And while you’re at it, leave me alone too. Don’t come to me for anything. We’re done. I’m not going to keep letting you ruin my friendships. Stay away from me.”

“Or what?” Jin asks with a whimsical expression.

Joon peeks at the short distance between them and smiles. “Come around this table and find out for yourself.”

“Alright, alright!” The assistant interjects again, holding her hand on Jin’s chest. The guy is close to lunging forward, but she’s snappy and dominant, and they don’t want to mess with her. She’s innocent in all of this. “That’s enough. Leave.”

But he is already doing that. He was halfway out the door before he was grabbing his phone from his pocket and texting Hobi and Yoongi to see if they’re okay.

YOONGI: At the record store with BF. Going back to his apartment later.

HOBI: Yeah I’m good. I was in a lecture and I have work in an hour. I’ll talk to you guys later.

NAMJOON: Jin and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore. We’ll talk later.

He sees a message bubble pop up but he doesn’t stick around for a reply. Instead he is going through his phone contacts and searching for Jimin’s name. When he finds it, Namjoon dials it immediately. He prays the other will answer. And when he does, he can already sense the tension in his tone.

Jimin lets out a loud sigh before asking, “What do you want Joon? I told you—”

“I know what you said, but that’s not good enough for me. I can’t not talk to you.”

There’s a pause. Joon can hear Tae in the background of Jimin’s end.

“I’m a little busy right now. I’m trying to salvage a friendship here.”

“Later then. Can we talk later?”

“I don’t know, Joon…”

“Please. Seriously. Salvage this one too. We should talk.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Jimin, please.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this…”

Before he can say anything else, Jimin ends the call. Low growls and curses escape Namjoon. He feels hopeless, angsty, peeved. But he isn’t ready to give up so easily. He can’t. Not on Jimin.

So he orders himself a Lyft and spends the $12 needed to get from the school to Jimin’s apartment. Namjoon needs to see him again. Jimin needs to know how badly Joon wants to cut Jin out of his life. Jimin needs to see how important he is to him.

[fullformworld]

500+Instagram Captions - Cute,Couples,Workout,Friendship,Cool,Sassy,One word,Short,Selfies,Adventure,Happy,Aesthetic,funny,Sunset,Fall,Fire,Beach,Dog,Savage

INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS

Looking for Best Instagram captions - Cute,Couples,Workout,Friendship,Cool,Sassy,One word,Short,Selfies,Adventure,Happy,Aesthetic,funny,Sunset,Fall,Fire,Beach,Dog,Savage. Now a days , everyone is using the Instagram app on their mobile. Instagram is one of the most popular and widely used Photo sharing application which is owned by Facebook allow users to share their Photos and Videos. WHAT ARE INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS ? An Instagram caption is a written description or explanation about the Instagram photo to provide more context. Instagram captions can include emojis, hashtags, and tags. Instagram captions are very useful for making your post (photos/videos) look attractive.Without a caption a post doesn't look good at all. Having an excellent and attractive Instagram Caption is very important! It can be very useful to you for receiving a lot of likes of the articles and finding none. But thinking about great Instagram Captions might be challenging, so we made it easy to run out of unique Instagram caption ideas in 20+ different categories when you’re publishing a lot of photo. HOW TO WRITE INSTAGRAM CAPTIONS ? As you upload a selective picture of yours after clicking 100+ of them just because its perfect. So, you need to check out these points : i) Use Smileys with your Instagram captions Using Smileys or Emojis with your captions make the post really attractive and cool. An emoji describes your posts very clearly if you use it in a right way. An emoji only can be placed as a caption on your post. So, keep in mind that a caption with a perfect emoji will make your post look better than others. ii) Do use Hashtags (#) Using appropriate Hashtags with your Instagram captions can help you to grow your profile reach. There are millions of hashtags used by peoples. A a particular hashtag determines your category, so that anyone searching for your type, will easily find you. Best Instagram captions 2021        Instagram is a social media platform where thousands of pictures and videos are uploaded daily with Instagram captions. As the audience on Instagram is increasing day by day.There are approx 400 million+ users on this social media platform.     Here is my collection of 30+ Instagram captions categories which you will definitely love to use as your "Instagram captions" and bookmark this Homepage for regular uses.Here in this article, we are going to share Instagram captions for Instagram 2018.

 Cute Instagram captions

cute instagram captions Being in a relationship is a full-time job. So don’t apply if you’re not ready. Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward The secret of getting ahead is getting started. Lift up your head princess, if not the crown falls. Always wear your invisible crown. Never look down on anybody UNLESS you’re helping him up. Always hold your head up. You have to be ODD, to be number ONE. Time is precious, waste it wisely. Don’t tell people your dreams, SHOW THEM! Do not worry, be happy The road to success is always under construction. If sky is the limit, then go there There are no shortcuts to any place worth going. Love is when you accept a person the way he or she is. You’ll never understand love until you You can love the person you trust but you can not always trust the person you love. Love is the greatest feeling in the word but it can also be the worse. Being in a relationship is a full-time job. So don’t apply if you’re not ready. Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward The secret of getting ahead is getting started. Lift up your head princess, if not the crown falls. Always wear your invisible crown. Never look down on anybody UNLESS you’re helping him up. Always hold your head up. You have to be ODD, to be number ONE. Time is precious, waste it wisely. Don’t tell people your dreams, SHOW THEM! Do not worry, be happy.  

Couple Goals Instagram captions

Couple Goals Instagram captions   You are mine, I am damn yours. You are my today and all of my tomorrows. You know! I want to be the reason of smile😀 on your face. I might be too late to be your first, but I can certainly be your last. Borrow me a Kiss💋💋, please? I wanna give it back, with full interest. They say it’s rude to stare, but I don’t care. You are too cute 😊not to stare at. If you’re alone, I’ll be your shadow.👥 I thought I was normal until I met you. Then, I realized we’re both pretty weird and I like that about us. What I have with you is something I never want with anyone else. You are the lovely distraction. I can resist any more, not to love you. What made you fall for him? He never asked me to justify my past. Cold nights, warm blankets, cozy days. I still fall for you every day of my life. Life starts again when fall hits, but I’m so glad it’s with you. Friends say you are a distraction to me. Believe me, I want to be distracted forever. She knew she loved him when “home” 🏠went from being a place to being a person. Love is a two-way street constantly under construction. Love: Two minds without a single thought. You’re my reflection, all I see is you. If I lost you I would cry, oh how I love you baby. Without you I would be so lost. You are the compass that guides me in life. We balance each other out so perfectly. You have made me the man / woman that I am today. You are my rock, my home, and my everything.  I can’t wait to tell our love story to our children and our grandchildren one day. all I used to see you make me see the world in brighter colours when before was dull shades of grey. My life has been such a wonderful adventure since you came along. Our life together is one for the history books. Forget the fairy tales, I think our love story is the best one ever told. Even after all this time you still make me weak in the knees I barely remember what I was doing with my life before you came along.  

Workout instagram captions

workout instagram captions The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a person's determination. Suck it up and one day you won't have to suck it in. Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you. The only place success comes before work is in the dictionary. Go the extra mile. it's never crowded. I'm so unfamiliar with the gym, I call it James! I exercise every day. I swim, I bike, I run and I go to the gym. Fall in love with process and results will come.. Every beauty needs a beast That is why don't skip Leg's day. Let the gains begin Strong peoples don't pull others down, them pull them up. Your fitness is 100% mental. Think of your workouts as important meetings A lot of women like to be super tiny When you want to give up, remember why you started. It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.  

Friendship goals Instagram captions

workout instagram captions Nothing last forever, except these memories. I and My group of friends are the funniest👭😃 humans I know. A friend👬 knows the song in my heart 💙and sings it to me when my memory fails. Best friends👬 stick together till the end. They are like a straight➖ line that will not bend. Strangers think I’m quiet, my friends👬🤔 think I’m out-going, only my best friends know that I’m completely insane! A real friend 👬is one with whom you can be silent. Good friends are like stars 🌟. You don’t always see them, but you know they’re always there… True friendship 👭is seen through the heart, 💛not through the eyes.👁 Best Friends make good times better and hard times easier! Friends take the word WORRY😔 out of my vocabulary and just replace it with HAPPINESS.😊 Friendship is the candle🕯 that lights up your heart❤ whenever it is dark outside. It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages. The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for. If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever. I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light. Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend. What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies. Only a true best friend can protect you from your immortal enemies. It's hard to tell who h There's not a word yet, for old friends who've just met.as your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it. “Be slow to fall into friendship, but when you are in, continue firm and constant. Stay is a charming word in a friend's vocabulary. We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you. The best mirror is an old friend. Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit. Storm Sister--a friend who sticks close when storms hit her friend's life. On our own, we’d look totally normal. Together, we’re something else. Together, we’re special. Being first to ask for help in a friendship takes courage and humility. Stick by your friends, and they'll help resolve your issues. Or, at the very least, help you forget they exist for a while. Conversations between friends are the craziest and funniest of all.  

Cool captions for instagram

Cool captions for instagram   When money talks nobody notices what grammar it uses. The only disability in life is a bad attitude. It's not about ideas. It's about ideas making happen. I am back with my same attitude.👓 Attitude is my middle name. You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. Women who seek to be equal with men lack ambition. It’s the friends you can call up at 4 a.m. that matter. It’s the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time. Someday I want to be perfect; until then, I’ll be happy being incredible. Old age is no place for sissies. If you rest, you rust. Life is hard. After all, it kills you. When someone makes you an option, make them a memory. Make today so awesome, Yesterday gets jealous. Sell the problem you solve, not product. Not everyone likes me, But not everyone matters. Being in a good frame of mind helps keep one in the picture of health. I’m gonna make the rest of my life, the best of my life. They laugh at me because I’m different, I laugh at them because they’re all the same. When I’m good, I’m God’s son 😊. But when I’m bad, I’m devil’s dad. 😈 !! Criticize me when you are at my level. Until then you may just admire. You can have RESULTS or EXCUSES not both. I’m not cranky. I just have a violent reaction to stupid people. Self-love isn’t selfish, it is important. I am not for everyone. When I was born...The devil said..👓”Oh, Shit..!! Competition” Love conquers all things except poverty and toothache. Let a smile be your umbrella if you want to stand out in the rain like a grinning idiot. A woman is like a tea bag you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water. If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun. The truth will set you free. But first, it will piss you off. I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me that trouble of liking them.  

Sassy instagram captions

Sassy instagram captions “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man” “We gonna party like it’s your birthday” “I got 99 problems, but ain’t one” “The more money we come across, the more problems we see” Big poppa. You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow. This opportunity comes once in a lifetime.” “Drop it like it’s hot” Only God Can Judge Me “I’m feeling’ myself” “To live doesn’t mean you’re alive”  

One Word instagram captions

One Word instagram captions Live. Breathe. Forgive. Ambition. Love. Processing. Inspire Succeed Fly Shine Appreciate grow Dream Positivity Enthusiastic Kind Troublemaker Cute Passionate Instagramer  

Short Instagram captions

Short Instagram captions Do it now . Appreciate the moment. Change is good. Remember to live. Learn from yesterday. Nothing is fair in love. Do or die. Make it happen Feed your soul Now or never Smile. Sparkle. Shine You are enough. Every moment matters. Take the risk. Hit the goals Never look back. Hit the success. It's my journey. You're mine. Never look back Success breads success Winners never quit.  

Instagram captions for selfies

Instagram captions for selfies - In a world full of trends, I want to remain a classic. - Today, I will be as useless as the 'g' in lasagna. - Stress doesn't really go with my outfit. - Reality called, so I hung up. - Dare to be a donut in a world of plain bagels. - I love looking in the mirror and feeling good about what I see. - Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in the mirror. - I walk around like everything is fine, but deep down, inside my shoe, my sock is sliding off." - Less perfection, more authenticity. - To be old and wise, you must first be young and stupid. - This reality is a beautiful illusion. - The mirror reflects my light. - Do you want to meet the love of your life? Look in the mirror. - What does a mirror look at? - What you seek is seeking you. - Eyes are never quiet. - Sometimes you gotta fall before you fly. - Mirrors tell you the truth. - And I usually use myself as a model, posing in front of a mirror. - Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.  

Adventure Instagram captions

Adventure Instagram captions Work hard, travel harder. Travel expands the mind and fills the gap. Have a safe flight back home✈🛫 Happiness is looking down for the next destination from your plane 🛬 window. The best part about solo travel is rediscovering that I enjoy my own company. Travel has a way of stretching the mind. Travel is not really about leaving our homes but leaving out habits. To take travel is to take a journey into yourself. Adventure is worthwhile. Where ever I go, it became part of me. Life is short and the world 🌏is wide. Forget champagne and caviar – Taste the world instead! The world is a book 📕, who do not travel read only a page. Travel✈ brings power and loves ❤back to your life Some beautiful paths 🛣 can't be discovered without getting lost. Travel is never a matter of money, but of courage. Let's pack our bags 👜 and travel the world. Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world. Someday I'm going to be free and I'm going to travel the world. Let's go on a road trip together.

Happy instagram captions

Happy instagram captions - Put some color in your life 🌈 - Happiness is a little corner of paradise in my life. - Happiness is not a goal… it’s a by-product of a life well-lived. - If you want to be happy, be. - We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing. - Be Wild. Be True. Be Happy 💕 - Being happy never goes out of style. - Look for the magic in every moment💙 - Don’t stop to dream. - Be a flower in a world made of stones🌺 - Life is a gift, live it now - You decide to be happy or not - No matter how hard I try, I can never be unhappy. - Happiness consists of living each day as if it were the first day of your honeymoon and the last day of your vacation. Read the full article

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Fireproof” - Part 4

“Fireproof” - Part 4

( Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 )

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,632

Key: Y/N = Your Name, Y/L/N = Your Last Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing? Let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: After a genetic mutation showed itself about 5 years ago, you became a Kingsman and worked alongside some of the best agents: Your father, Merlin, Roxy, and Eggsy. When you are assigned a mission with Eggsy, things flare up.

Author’s Note: So this is my first Kingsman fic. I had this idea at 2AM when I was working on packing up my stuff for moving. I know it’s a bit out there, but I hope you give it a chance.

Thank you to @the-witching-hours12-3 for always being supportive with my writing and in life. <3 a

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

When you woke up the next morning, you were alone. It took a second for you to wonder if last night really happened or not. But then you felt the two bandages on your chest and knew that last night had actually happened. Then you remembered hearing what Eggsy had said to you before falling asleep.

“I promise I will always be there to help you whenever you need me, sweetheart. I love you, (Y/N/N).”

It went through your head on repeat. Your heartbeat getting faster and faster as it sank in. Eggsy had feelings for you. You were on cloud nine until you realized that you had to get ready for your mission today. Talking to Eggsy about your feelings right now would surely make this mission more difficult than it should be. So you decided to keep your mouth shut and wait until you both were back home, and safe, to bring up that conversation.

Somehow silencing your brain, you were able to find your clothes for the day and quickly pack up your last minute things. After double checking your bag, you went downstairs to make some breakfast. Walking into the kitchen, you were shocked to see Eggsy over the stovetop, attempting to make pancakes.

He didn’t hear you enter, so you just leaned against the wall and watched him struggle with yet another pancake. This was the second one in a row that he had somehow burnt and then failed to flip it on the other side. You couldn’t stand to see another pancake be wasted.

“Having some trouble there, Eggsy?” He jumped and nearly knocked over his mug that was on the counter next to him. He quickly tried to recover and look casual, but you just ended up giggling and moving over to the stove; taking over for him.

“These fuckers are harder to make than they seem!”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded and then made one perfect one your first try, earning a playfully angry look from Eggsy.

You began the process of making enough pancakes for the two of you while he made you a cup of coffee just how you like it. He also decided to cut up some fruit for the two of you. As the two of you enjoyed breakfast, you didn’t know how to start a conversation. You were thinking too much about last night; how he helped you and what he said…

Luckily, Eggsy broke the silence and helped ease your mind.

“This pancakes are amazing, (Y/N/N). You have got to show me how you do it one day.” He smiled at you and then took another bite.

“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled back. When your eyes met his, they were different. You were certain it was the aftereffects of last night, but this was not the time to have that discussion. So you found a segue.

“Speaking of plan, we need to talk about today.” You picked up one of the files that you had brought to breakfast. You wanted to go over the mission with Eggsy before you got there. Have some sort of idea of how to deal with Arkady Popov.

The two of you spent the rest of your meal coming up with a general plan for the mission. Eggsy goes in and scopes everything out, you watch through his glasses, and he follows your directions. You would have a layout of the entire building on one of your screens alongside another screen that had live feed from his glasses and yet another screen that would show live feed from any cameras that Eggsy placed or you hacked into. You would be in charge of figuring out how to get into Arkady’s system and stopping his attempt at a culling.

After cleaning up a bit, you two got your bags and boarded the jet. Neither one of you had to fly it. Since Merlin wasn’t going to be on this mission with you, he constructed an autopilot system. If there was any sort of problem or danger, you could override the system and fly it yourself. You didn’t do as much field work like Eggsy, so Merlin thought it would be important to train you in many other areas, one of which being how to fly many different types of aircrafts.

Once the jet was in the air, the two of you prepared for what was to come when you landed. Eggsy got dressed in his suit and took a look at the various weapons that were stored on the plane. You were happy to see that the computer setup was similar to the ones you had worked on in the past. Opening it all up about an hour into the flight, you saw a couple of files sent from Merlin. One was titled “Galahad” and the other was titled “Branwyn.”

“Eggsy, I’m sending you info from Merlin. Read it as soon as you can.”

“Will do, (Y/N/N).” You looked back at him. He was fiddling with his umbrella, looking incredibly handsome in his Kingsman suit. You couldn’t help but gaze at him for a moment, he looked up and caught you. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Oh! Um...  Yes. You look rather handsome in your suit.” You tried to quickly make the conversation not as weird as you thought it was. “But your tie is wonky. C’mere.” You waved him over as you stood up. He walked over and got close, but not too close. You gingerly took his tie in your fingers and fiddled with it until you thought it was smooth and straight.

As you did so, Eggsy couldn’t help but watch your focused gaze. You looked beautiful no matter what, but seeing you so gentle while helping him enhanced that in his head. You were a good girl, it was no wonder he loved you.

“There. Much better. Now, I have to look over the notes from Merlin and get the computers ready. As soon as we land and you head out, I’m gonna get to work on hacking into the cameras and whatever else I can without getting caught. I sent your notes to you, read them and then I guess just relax? We got another hour or two in the air.”

With that, Eggsy just nodded and sat down in the seat closest to the computers, facing you, pulling out a tablet and beginning to read. You read your notes and then began to get the computers up and running. You figured you would send a message to Merlin saying that you received his files and that you are almost to your destination.

What you didn’t see was Eggsy catching glimpses of you. He loved seeing you so focused and ready for work. You were even gentle with the keyboards and various screens in front of you. He was watching your hands quickly and delicately typing away. It boggled him that just yesterday, he saw these same hands covered in flames. Not that it changed his feelings towards you, it’s just that he was still trying to really absorb it.

Apparently he had been staring for a bit. You had finished your message to Merlin and caught him staring.

“You okay there, bruv?” 

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I’m good.” Eggsy chuckled at your use of the nickname “bruv.” It wasn’t something you usually said; only around him as a sort of joke. “You?”

“Yeah. I think I’m gonna lay down. If something pops up on the computer, let me know?”

“Alright.” You stood up to walk to one of the comfy chairs when Eggsy stood up as well, catching your hand in his. “When are we gonna talk about this?” You froze. You really didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Honestly, I’d rather not talk about it until after the mission. If that’s alright.” Eggsy paused before nodding.

“Okay. We’ll just wait. I’ll take you out to that restaurant I told you about and we can talk it out then, yeah?” He smirked at you, waiting for an answer. It wasn’t his typical smirk; it was a mix of a smirk and a true smile. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Sounds like a plan.” His smile grew a bit bigger.

“Go relax, luv.” You nodded and he kissed your head before letting go of your hand and sitting back down.

About an hour later, you heard the computer beeping, which meant you were getting close. Getting back to your computer, you typed in some information to send to the men waiting on the ground. You needed an access code in order to land in their facility. Holding your breath, you waited for them to accept it before getting up and acting as if you were flying the plane.

Landing was easy. When you were clear, you stood up to go back to the computer. Eggsy was waiting to be let out of the door and gently grabbed your arm as you walked by.

“Is my tie alright?” He had a smirk on his face and you lightly giggled.

“Yes. It looks fine.” You patted his tie down a bit before taking in a deep breath and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. Not enough for an attack, but enough to unnerve you.

“Please be safe, Eggsy. I need you alive.”

“I’m not leavin’ anytime soon.” He kissed your head and then kept going. “Plus, I got that dinner to be at. Can’t miss that.”

Both of you smiling, you pulled him into a hug. You feared for the worst. Eggsy could sense this and hugged you a bit tighter. It wasn’t a long hug because the plane door began to unlock and open. Looking back at you, Eggsy threw a wink at you.

“Time to go save the world. Again.”

Tags: @the-witching-hours12-3 @theeactress @undersoilxnddirt @juggernaut-jones @eggsyunwinftw @boundtomyfate @grippleback-galaxy @sarahp879