#oh heart heart heart heart . u might like a stranger i remain . maybe . a little bit . perhaps

[crescentmp3]

♪

u got dark skies from mgr:r !! oo this is tough .

" i, i can't believe my eyes ! we've fallen down . we're blinded by dark skies ! it's in the way we all exploit the weak ! the justice that we seek . accept the truth to be free ! "

[sunder-soul]

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap. 

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

[yellowsbuttercup]

Haechan and Mirasol

This was written in the stars istg

&NEW SERIES (requests and taglist are still open)

pairing: cottagecore!haechan x painter!reader

genre/warnings: fluff, angst

word count: 1.3K

a/n: aaaa first matching!! ngl i knew haechan and mirasol is gonna be requested. i was so excited while writing this!! hope u guys enjoy this read ( i cried btw i hope u guys too jk) :33

date: 08/11/21

apov.

Their breaths hitched, strangers to the sight of another person who was meters apart. They thought they always had this whole lonely yet full field of sunflowers. To see another person in what they thought was their little secret, they felt conflicted.

“Who are you?”

“Why are you here?” They asked at the same time, chuckling a little bit. The tanned boy stepped forward, “Well I’m quite surprised to know I’m not the only one who comes here on their down days. Or you might have come here for a different reason and just at the same time I arrived…” His words trailed off but their eye contact remained.

“Well, I came here to paint.” The girl shyly brings up her canvas and case of which may hold her tools for painting that were hiding beneath the field of the yellow flowers.

“Oh, I see. That is an interesting hobby.” They both chuckled as their cheeks blushed to the colors of roses.

“Thank you I guess.” The boy smiles, standing straight as he finally walks closer to the girl. Holding a grin, he nears the girl, finally standing tall in front of her, “Haechan. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, offering a shake for formalities.

“Y/N.” She smiles back, taking his hand to hers and shaking it gently.

At that moment, a birth of a new friendship was born. They shared laughs, secrets, moments, and memories to last them so long. They were inseparable. On that exact field, they always met up every sunset to watch the king of the sunflowers go down in hues from colors of goldenrods and torch lilies to the colors of asters and carnations.

Haechan loved seeing the change of the palette of the sky but in those moments whenever he looked over to her, the sky reflecting on her face. Like she was one of the flowers in the field but the most beautiful one of them all. He felt his heartbeat so fast and he couldn’t help but just stare at her. Although she might’ve looked a bit weak, thin, and pale, along with her occasional coughing at times. She assured him it was something she had long ago.

“Haechan? Is there something on my face?” He was snapped back to reality, looking away immediately. “Nothing.” He shook off.

Though it wasn’t like she felt the beating of her heighten unlike before. As days go by, she thought he was becoming more handsome and every action of his respect or even in times when they were messing around. It was like she was falling bit by bit. But she was scared for both of them.

She looked down at the hands that were placed on her lap, hiding the fact that her face was heating up. Just like when they first met, their faces were nothing but the colors of the red roses.

time skip.

Despite their strong bond and friendship, the girl had disappeared all of a sudden. It worried Haechan so much. He never knew what happened but he continued coming to the field of the sunflowers in hopes of finding her again.

Days have passed and turned lonelier for the boy. His heart ached and longed so much for her. To see her smile, to hear her laugh, to have her company. He decided to visit her house, maybe she might be there and maybe he could ask her why she wasn’t showing up anymore.

He brought with him a bag of sunflowers, she might’ve missed the sight of these yellow things around her. He walked a long way to her home but he was determined to see her. Her feelings might’ve changed, hate him or love him, he just wanted to see her again.

After a while, he arrived. His basket of sunflowers was in his other hand while the other knocks on the sturdy wood of the door. He heard footsteps from the other side, causing him to stand up straight, preparing himself to politely greet whoever was going to open the door.

The door opens to reveal an old lady with eyes that spoke of sorrow, but Haechan kept his smile. “Hi Mrs. Kim, I’m Lee Haechan! I’m looking for Y/N? I assure you I am her-“

“Friend. I know. Mind if you stay here for a bit? I’ll just get my coat and shoes. I’ll be right back”. He didn’t know what to say nor what to assume but as Mrs. Kim did instruct, he waited for her. Through the window, he observed many paintings of sunflowers hung up on their walls. The same paintings she had painted in some events they would meet up on the field. He watched as she painted strokes and filled the canvas. Until she had painted the yellow flowers onto her art.

He was zoning out until the slam of the door closing followed by a click of a lock brought him back. He looked over to see Mrs. Kim in front of him. “Let’s go?” He nodded and they walked together. His heart was beating fast, he was very eager and excited to see her again after so many days alone in that field. He thought this might be the day he will decide to confess his feelings.

time skip.

They arrived on a dry ground that leads to a forest of lush bells of Ireland leaves and grass. He stops in his tracks, looking down on a stone wall with carved letters on it. It was at that moment he knew his world had fallen to pieces.

Mrs. Kim hands Haechan a letter, familiar handwriting that seemed like they had written everything that they could in this piece of paper. As if it was their last.

“Dear Haechan,

I’m sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for making you wait, for not letting you know. I was too afraid that you might leave me just for this very reason. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what is killing me, no one knew what it is. I’m sorry. But I would just like to confess so many things through this letter. The things I couldn’t say.

The day I met you in that field, at that moment it was almost like I knew what the sunflowers felt when they saw the sun. The sun was the only thing they could look at and even if it was just one thing, it gave them so many reasons to live. You were a ray of hope to me. I wanted to fight this sickness just to be with you longer. But I couldn’t make it. I was the sunflower that needed her sun for strength. After all of these that I have written, I hope you know that I lov”

The letter abruptly ended and he was confused. “Mrs. Kim, does this letter have a continuation?” He searched the paper, turning it to its back to see it empty. The ending letters were smudged and created a line that messed up the whole paper. His eyes were red as he tried looking through the tears that were already pooling.

“I’m very sorry Haechan but this was the only thing I found when I saw her…o-on the floor.” It was obvious Mrs. Kim has been having a hard time as well. She was visibly blinking her eyes rapidly to keep her tears from falling.

He dropped to his knees, weeping and wailing as his continuous tears painted the dry leaves on the ground to a darker color. He felt like his world would be in the shadows. He couldn’t be the sun that she as a sunflower thought he was. Without her, there was no meaning for this sun to serve its purpose.

Haechan looks over to the stone, remembering the basket of sunflowers that he brought with him. Standing up, he weakly took them in his hands. He walked over to the stone, placing the flowers beside her as she slept peacefully.

On the basket, there was a letter hovering on the petals. It was a smaller one compared to what she wrote for him.

‘Mirasol, a foreign word for these flowers I brought for you. A word I would want to call you’

by czenshireland

[chocolate-parfait]

Hiii! I saw that your requests are open, and I want to ask for a Mozart scenario 👉👈. MC/Reader (whichever you prefer) has gone back to her time for a long time (even tho she wasn’t planning for long) but when she comes back she also has Mozart’s kid in her arms (but everyone knows before him coz he is obviously at his piano lmao). So the residents plan to surprise him? If it’s too specific feel free to ignore this. Make sure you sleep sufficiently and drink some water😗😗 thank u in advance :)

Sorry it took me so long! I barely had the time to sleep this past month😳 I hope it was worth the wait-

A gift from Fate - Ikemen Vampire (Mozart)

“I don’t think we should listen in on them...” The cherry haired man whispered.

“Shh Ai-chan. Mozie-kun might hear us!”

“Tofu lover here is right, old Newt. And how could we pass up a chance of seeing that cold-hearted wolf shed a tear or two? It’s a once in a lifetime occasion!” Added the writer, resting his left hand on the scientist’s shoulder.

“Ugh, why did I even ask you two, of all people... Sebastian, tell them something already!” Isaac lamented once more.

“Unfortunately, Master Isaac, I’m afraid to say I’m quite curious myself to see Master Mozart’s reaction. It’s for scientific purpose, after all.”

“For what?” Nine pairs of eyes flew to the butler’s figure.

“Oh, nevermind that.”

"Leonardo, would you mind throwing your cigar away? They'll catch the smell of it" Comte’s placid tone filled the small space.

"What, you curious too, "Comte"? Heh, as his majesty desires" Leonardo complied, putting out his cigarillo against the ground with a dramatic gesture, gaining a displeased glance from the nobleman.

"...thank you. Oh, I believe he's almost there. Everybody, please be quiet."

As their sire spoke these words, all the vampires got closer to the small opening of the door. Some could barely see anything, but the wooden surface was thin enough to let any and all sounds reach the hidden listeners’ attentive ears.

The person that had them all hidden in a small storage room adjacent to the parlor was none other than Mozart. The love of his life had just returned from the future with a surprise of a companion glued to her side, but the man was yet to show his face. He had been, as always ever since her departure a couple of years before, focused on composing his tunes, now devoid of their old brightness and tempo, just like the composer himself.

It was as clear as day that, although his external composure remained unchanged, his heart had decided to freeze himself, a thick layer of frozen indifference to hide a pain akin to that of being torn in half, cruelly and mercilessly. Whenever he let his guards down even the slightest bit, he found himself on a battlefield over which time had no influence whatsoever, and where the ice and snow perfectly preserved the destruction and desolation born from his loss. The blood from a still fresh and open wound laid on the ground, as strong winds hit him with the warm whispers of a long-lost sun, nowhere to be seen.

That was the devastated state in which his being was left in, unaware of the sympathetic smile Fate was now offering him.

That day, a mysterious note found its way between the pianist’s hands, the words “Meet me at 18.00 in the parlor. It’s a matter of utmost importance” written in an impeccable cursive of other times, clearly belonging to one of the many inhabitants of the mansion. When it came to such intimate business, they usually preferred keeping a certain distance from unfolding events, but seeing the hesitation and fear of rejection on the woman’s face, they had all agreed to lend her a hand and give a little pull on the red string that connected the two lovers.

As punctual as ever, when the clock’s hands moved to the predetermined time, Mozart knocked stiffly on the door, finally making his entrance in the scene.

Barely two steps in the room and he found himself stuck in place, incredulous eyes fixed on the feminine figure in front of him. His violet eyes immediately found her face, and his body moved towards hers, attracted by an invisible force that had kept them tied to each other in spite of time and space. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, though his feverish dreams and hazy memories couldn’t hold a candle to the real her.

As impatience shook his body with a strong wave of trembles, with a quick movement he trapped her in a soul-crushing embrace that overflowed with all his longing and love; as his arms tightly caged her to his torso, he nuzzled her neck, finding her warm skin with the cold tip of his nose.

One deep inhale, then another. And another one.

She smelled divine.

Oh, how he had missed that dazzlingly sweet scent, those soft locks tickling his pale cheeks now flush with various emotions, that small pair of arms circling his body and squeezing him tightly. Was this a dream? Had he finally reached the afterlife for a second time? If so then he didn’t want to go back. If living in an illusion meant being with her then he was ready to throw away the real world with no second thoughts. But this, this was real. His mind had already acknowledged it, leaving the heart behind to process its own feelings.

“Meine Geliebte-” (my beloved)

“Mozart-”

They said in unison, voices mixing with harmony in a euphonious melody.

As he pulled back a little to look her in the eyes, a small voice came from behind her body. “Mama...” When Mozart lowered his eyes to meet the small figure’s, he was met with a small child, around 4 or 5 years of age. Before his thoughts could even reach the idea of betrayal, he couldn’t help but notice how every single feature, although still not fully developed, was a mixture of one of his and his lover’s own. The similarity was painfully clear, but once more the brain outrun the heart, and Mozart felt his heartbeat fall to his stomach.

“This is...” The woman started with a wavering voice, maybe from the emotion or perhaps because of insecurity. “This is our son, Charles.”

“Our... son...?” The pianist slowly repeated, trying to give more time to his now nearly-exploding heart.

Bending down to meet those violet orbs so similar to his own, he smiled fondly, reaching a hand out to slowly caress the boy’s head. As he did so, a myriad of realizations hit Mozart like a carriage running at full speed. He could not believe he had missed his son’s birth, his first steps, his first words. The fruit of their love, a life born out of their union. No amount of apologies and care could give him back all that, and the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Papa! No leave Mama anymore!” The boy suddenly pleaded as he threw himself between his father’s arms. Oh, but of course he wouldn't. How could he? Not anymore. He wasn’t so stupid as to let that damned door separate them again, and not even God could part them anymore. But would the boy understand? He was but a stranger to him, and he did commit the terrible mistake of letting the only person he truly cared for slip away from his grasp once, so how could he blame him for having such thoughts?

“No, I won't. I promise you.” Placing a warm hand on his son's back, maybe as a way to seal his vow, he brought the small, trembling body closer to his chest, trying with all his might to instill in him the sense of security that only a father's embrace can give.

After silently witnessing the whole scene in solemn silence and stillness, smiles and some tears bloomed on the woman and the secret onlookers' faces. As the child shakily whimpered in his finally-found paternal figure's neck, his mother kneeled by his side, where Mozart's arm took her in as he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. Their passionate reunion could wait for later that night, now all that mattered was being together, aware of each other's presence, warmth and smell. That was more than enough. “Thank you for coming back. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Unfortunately for them though, an interruption soon came to disturb their peace. Low whispers came from behind the door, and the pianist's trained ear caught them with no effort.

"Woohoo, that was a good one, Wolfie!"

"Shouldn't we just go already? If he were to catch us he'd go on a rampage"

"Still, I wish I could give him a round of applause! It was really moving~"

Mozart turned his violet eyes, now chilly with cold annoyance, towards the source of the hushed voices, silencing them immediately. Though he would have to thank them for the note, he knew they wouldn't have let him hear the end of it with their teasing comments and jokes. Before his thoughts could take the highway to a possible massacre, Charles' brought his attention back to where it belonged.

"Papa... can you show me your piano?"

Such a simple request brought spring into his heart, once plunged into a state of eternal winter. Feeling his every cell overflowing with love and gratitude he simply nodded, adding: "Sure, shall we go?"

Well, his revenge could wait for later. Now he had a lot of catching up to do, both with his love and son, and making them wait longer was definitely unacceptable.

Perhaps Fate had truly decided to be a little kinder to him in his second life.

[korpuskat]

Start Game [Tomura Shigaraki/Reader] - Part 4

[Ao3 Mirror] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6,817 Summary:  Things don't always go as planned in new relationships... and finding out that he's a murder and leader of a terrorist group certainly isn't the plan. Contains DFAB but gender neutral reader; handjob, blowjob, vaginal sex

So, I had a really bad night so instead of doing Kinktober 8, here’s the final chapter of Start Game that I was sitting on. pls hmu if you see errors, I’m really tired dkjfddhgdgkjs

===== [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] =====

In the end, you knew nothing about him.

Memories sit like a rock in your stomach. It felt so obvious now- plain as day. Half your screen lit up with your chat log- days worth of conversations laid bare, the words making your chest ache. How could you be so stupid? He’d warned you about it. That he was a stranger. Just some guy you'd hang out with, play games with- the center of your little innocent, stupid daydreams. That's all it was supposed to be.

The other half of your screen is covered with a still image, a photo grabbed from a news cast pasted onto a tips wanted hotline. Every cell in your body has gone cold as ice, frozen as the image. In the chat window, tiny text appears below the log: dust2dust is typing...

It was true. You knew nothing about him after all.

You didn’t reply to him, fully aware you’d left him on read.

You’ve never done that before. Always, always you’d reply as soon as you saw his message, all too eager to talk with him, spend time with him. But then, he’d never been quite so forward. It was always about gaming, about hanging out- to be so transparent about it now…

dust2dust: are u free tonite

Your stomach churns, sickness rising in your throat- tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. They bubble over, blur your vision and wipe away the image of a man standing on a rooftop, his hair whipping around his face. Maybe you could believe it was someone else, the strange mask he wore obscured Tomura’s recognizable skin and scars, the image too far out of focus to tell his eye color, even the darkness had left his hair more gray-colored than anything. But beneath the long black shirt sleeves, bandages peaked out, uneven. His right hand, his left wrist.

The tip hotline poster sealed it all together. Shigaraki. The man in connection to the Hosu City incident and the attack on U.A. prior and, oh. The bandages. Shigaraki had been shot, hadn’t he? That’s what the article you’d dug up before said.

A villain. He’s a villain! You’ve been hanging out with him- he could’ve killed you!

You curl up on your bed, tug your blanket tight around your shoulders. Your phone is solid under your fingers- the number pad staring back at you. You could get him caught. You could stop him from hurting anyone else…. It would be so easy! All you had to do was dial the number, to just... push the buttons. That's all.

You squeeze your phone in your hand- and your thumb is stiff, aching- just push the button, just tap the screen- that's all it would take. Why is it so hard? You could prevent the next attack, could make the world a little safer, to be a hero-

So why can't you do it?

Ding! You flinch, close your eyes- will yourself to look away from the screen. You don't need to see the chatbox flashing, don't need to see the new message sitting on the screen-- but with the client open, he'll get the read notification just the same. You just... walked away from the computer is all. It's just that innocent, that easy- to pretend you aren't aching to talk to him. That it's an honest mistake and not your desperate attempt to keep your head together.

The notification rolls in on your phone- a banner dropping down over the screen: New message from dust2dust.

Finally, your thumb moves. A single tap- and the mobile app opens up, your chat log spreading out.

dust2dust: u there

All you want in the entire world is to say yes, to ask what game he had planned tonight. To lose yourself in whatever colorful world was his interest tonight- maybe he'd want to visit your Animal Crossing island again. But that is wrong… isn’t it?

Between a rock and a hard place- you can't turn him in and you can't go back. There's no good answer to this, no way to pretend you didn't know why he wore those gloves now. No way to pretend he hadn't put those hands on you- in you. And... you can't avoid him forever.

You fingers shake as they touch the screen, tap on the keyboard where they could not meet the number pad. I know.

The response is immediate.

dust2dust: Know what?

You sniffle, wipe your face. You're over the precipice, there's no going back.

Shigaraki.

The cursor blinks in the text box. dust2dust is typing... appears and is gone within seconds. Nothingness. The green circle beside his icon remains lit, his status online.

You rub at your face and struggle to type out:

I won’t tell anyone. I promise.

The words sound true; you couldn’t even work up the nerve to call the hotline. Turning him in… somehow feels scarier than messaging him. Talking to him.

You watch, wait for the typing notification, but it doesn’t come. All that changes is the green circle beside his name turns gray, the status below his username updates: offline. last seen one second ago.

A coldness lances through your chest, a pain far worse than before.

You spend the next day waiting. Maybe for death, maybe for Steam to give you a friendly little pop-up, dust2dust is playing… and maybe you’d join him. Like nothing had changed, you’d join his party, he’d admonish you for being late, give you that quiet, warm praise when you solo a monster.

But it doesn’t. When desperation for fresh air drives you out the door, you expect a man in a black hoodie waiting for you. Maybe to talk, maybe to so easily lay his hand on you, just to be sure you won’t speak of him.

He isn’t there. He doesn’t lurk around every corner, doesn’t come online- you check. Every time your phone buzzes your heart swells, and every time it’s not him. The status on his profile ticks upwards without fail, no matter how often you open the chat and want to find the right words.

It’s worse than you imagined, the loneliness. Your once real friend and oh, of course! Of course you’d have the sense to befriend Japan’s Most Wanted. No matter how much you remind yourself, it doesn’t change the icy pit in your stomach. It’s not dread, it’s not fear.

Because as much as you think about him appearing and exacting his vengeance for you knowing too much- he could’ve done it before. He took you to his home, touched you, let you sleep beside him- he could’ve killed you through any of that. Instead he was careful, wore gloves. Opened up, just the tiniest bit. He could’ve killed you and he didn’t. Could’ve shown up at your door— could’ve destroyed the whole building.

He didn’t.

And that makes the pain sharper, more acute. A horrible ache has taken root in your chest and won’t go away.

.

.

.

.

.

It’s a terrible makeshift metric for goodness: that he didn’t harm you when he could have. But that has to mean something, doesn it? All the time he’s spent with you… that can’t be nothing. He risked exposure to be near you- and thus far has not left you in the dust.

Offline. last seen one day ago.

It has to mean something, it has to. That’s what you tell yourself as you slip through your apps. In your internet tabs there’s one that catches your eye. A map, a google search for restaurants near me with a bright red pin stuck into a satellite image.

It has to mean something.

.

.

.

.

.

.

You repeat that mantra over and over, even as you step off an unfamiliar metro line. It can’t be for nothing, can it? You walk, follow the directions back to your pinned location. The weeks spent talking and gaming even before he’d laid hands on you, when you still looked at him with star-struck eyes and a naivety that must’ve lasted longer than you thought.

He has to be busy. Can’t spend all his time in the arcade, being prickly and antisocial to everyone but you. That has to mean something.

You stumble through darkened streets- your journey having taken much longer than expected with your shaking legs and three separate breakdowns to consider if you were completely batshit.

The tiny distance calculator counts down as you walk and that might be the only thing keeping you sane. A nice little number to watch tick by as you approach a run-down section of the city. Sure enough, you end up outside a characterless building. It doesn't look right- where you had been was certainly somewhere lived-in, his possessions covering the shelves. But then, wouldn't a more nondescript building be more suitable?

You bite your lip, stand before the building in question. Your hand shakes as you approach- a broken BAR sign flickers once in the window. This is such a terrible idea, your worst, really. Bad enough to befriend a villain, but to go back? Maybe you should take a fourth break to debate if you've really lost it. There’s no turning back.

You reach out, fingertips brush against the door- it’s ripped open.

“Whatever, I’m-“ A man’s silhouette blocks most of the doorway, his face cast in shadow, backlit by the soft yellow of the would-be bar’s interior. He stops, looks down at you- and your bravery plummets to your toes. He glares at you with narrowed eyes ringed by heavy scars and facial piercings. “Who’re you?”

Your voice dries up- the reality of it all setting in too fast. “Oi, what’s-” Your attention snaps from the scarred man’s face to just over his right shoulder.

He looks just like he did in the press release: a terrible white hand grabbing his face, obscuring everything except one bright red eye. An eye staring you down, opened impossibly wide, pupil blown full, eclipsing the red of his iris till only a sliver remains. But it's him and the relief that washes over you makes it feels like years since you last saw him, not simply a day and a half.

The scarred man looks over his shoulder towards Tomura, raises one eyebrow- but Tomura doesn't even see him. Doesn't acknowledge him at all, doesn't see anything except your face.

"Oh, so this is your problem." The man huffs, shoulders past you.

And with him gone, all that is left is an unobstructed view into the bar, of Tomura Shigaraki, wanted villain, easing himself off a bar stool. He moves slow, but you watch his fists clench and release over and over, long, slender fingers drawing invisible lines in the air in a motion you've become all too familiar with.

Your hands shake, but you step through the threshold just the same. The door closing behind you is only faintly alarming, but with every sense attuned to the man before you, you don't have much thought to spare. He steps towards you, just one foot the first time- a test, a measurement- and though you cower, you don’t run.

That’s all he needs to know.

He’s on you- you hadn’t even seen him move. No more than a blur of black and the gray of the bloodless hand- and you’d think by now having him pressed up on you wouldn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. It does, though. But this time, this time you know the danger of his touch- of three fingers and a thumb curled over your throat.

“How did you get here?” He hisses, the threat of his hand has spread to his throat, the one eye now only half-visible under the misplaced fluff of his hair.

His hand eases off your windpipe just enough for your voice to eke by. “Phone saved the location.”

It feels wrong to speak of your almost normal date with the violence in his eyes. "Why are you here? Playing bait for the heroes?"

"No," You shake your head, your chin rubbing along the inside line of his hand. "No, I swear. I didn't tell anyone."

"Then why?" His eye narrows down to a slit, the damaged skin there folding in tight.

Your tongue wets your lips, your mouth parted as though that would make the words come easier. "I don't know." It's true; you knew coming here was crazy. "I... I missed you."

Even from behind the hand, you hear the hitch in his breathing. His eyelid lifts, rage giving way to something else. He stares at you, hardly moves but the gears turn in his head, "You're lying."

Tomura's wrist is cool under your fingertips- his pulse jumps as you touch him. It's not a plea for him to get off you, your hand not tight around his wrist- it's hardly more than a brush of your skin against his. "I..." Shame makes you look down to his feet, the same red sneakers you've come to love on his feet. "I didn't know what to say when... when I figured it out. I was scared." His grip shifts, as though confirming that you should be- "But... then I kept checking my phone. Waiting for you to message me. But I... I knew you wouldn't and... I couldn't find the right words. I thought maybe being here would be easier..."

"Is it?"

It's so disarming, so honest, you struggle to catch your breath. "Can I see you? I mean, could you...?"

Tomura waits a moment, but he does it nonetheless. His right hand never leaves your throat as he grasps the preserved palm with three fingers, drawing it away from his face. Your heart races- and from the twitch of his thumb over your jugular, you think he notices too. It's still him, of course- brow creased even more than usual, eyes tightened around the corners as he judges you.

"Tomura," You breathe, more sure. His face twitches, something just beneath the surface dying to break free. Still smothered beneath his suspicion. "I missed you. You're... the only person I really have and when I thought of never being able to talk with you again or- or touch you," You feel your cheeks heat, shame driving your gaze back down. "I couldn't stand it."

His breath shakes, his eyes like blood dart across your face, searching for something there. You're trembling so hard- anxiety and adrenaline rushing together in one awful slurry- you hardly even recognize that his hand is trembling too, his last finger twitching to come down and end it. It's not his finger that touches you.

All at once you think back to him standing beside you in the arcade, laying next to you in his bed: his hand on your skin, his breath warm across your face- he lingers there, eyes spread wide in something you dare not name. Not until he decides- and surges forward, presses himself to you completely, angling himself to find every inch of your body he can against his; his long legs set just inside yours, his thin torso leaves you hardly any room to breathe, his free hand raising to grab the side of your face- and with a burning need, he devours you. With lips and teeth and the tips of his fingers digging deep into your flesh, leaving eight bruises behind- and when his mouth drifts from yours, down onto your neck more bruises follow.

His tongue is hot and wet, laves a humid streak up from collar bone to jaw, leaves you shuddering and digging your fingers into his hair with a plea of "Tomura,"

"I knew it." He says, half laughs against your throat. The skin there tingles with the latent pressure of his hand, the threat that never came to fruition- then sparks as he kisses, messy and too wet, nipping freely, littering your skin with marks until you're panting. "I knew you meant it, that you're mine."

The word makes your knees weak, an airy moan escaping from your lips- which only fuels him to keep going. "You- you want to touch me?" The giddiness is back, an ecstatic trill in his voice, a shiver wracking down his body- all the way to the tips of his fingers that catch your wrists. "Then go on, touch me." He doesn't actually give you a choice, he shoves your hands against him, forces your palms up against the firm bulge in his pants.

Shock makes you tug against his hands for a moment- and for one agonizing second, Tomura's face falls. His too-wide grin- the one that puts you right back against the wall in that dim hallway- slips from its upturned joy. And then you touch him. Even with his demanding control, it's different when you actually do it: your fingers curving around the shape of him, feel his weight through the cloth. His breath catches and though you're sure it feels good, the twitch of his brow into something almost like surprise- just a flash of emotion before dissolving back into that thrilling, dangerous smile- has you thinking it's something else.

You palm at him and his hands loosen, lets you explore. A squeeze makes him grunt, and you take that as a good sign. Your best attempt to stroke him through his pants has his hips pushing into your hands. Though you need to bite your lip to keep yourself grounded, the loose, stuttering jerks of his hips give you enough courage to do more. Tomura stares at you, point-blank, inches from your face as your fingers quiver but dip below the waist of his pants.

The grin widens and nervousness makes your breaths come in quick- but when have you been able to say no to him? You push his pants down- and his cock bobs free, just as you had imagined how it looked when he was grinding on you: long and pale, the head a blushing pink, half-exposed, peeking out from under his foreskin. It's practically radiating warmth and throbs as you hesitantly wrap your fingers around him properly for the first time.

You just hold him for a moment, stumbling over what you should do- and his hand finds your wrist again. You welcome the help; he's not shy about what he wants you to do. He curls your fingers in tighter, tighter- until you'd be worried you were hurting him if he wasn't currently fucking your hand, half the motion coming from his grasp on your wrist, half from his hips. It's rough, the skin of your palm dragging against his cock, your strokes unlubricated except for the sweat of your palms and the first drips of precum that squeezes out each time your thumb and index finger squeeze up around the head. On the downstroke, the thin hood of skin slides back, fully reveals the pink skin beneath.

"You're doing so good," Tomura's voice is husky, rasping next to your ear. His gaze flits between your hands on his cock and your face, watching as your expression evolves- lingering when you lick your lips.

"Wait," You work against his grip to still your hand. Tomura whines, ruts once against your palm, fingers twitching as he tries to control himself. There's a question in his eyes, one you soothe with your free hand touching his side, then with words. "I want to... try something." His brow twists, one eye narrowing- until you're bending your knees. In the meager space he's left between himself and the wall, you slide down. His breathing hitches and something wild passes over his face.

You touch his legs, still covered in his dark pants. Beneath, his thighs are slender, but solid. One hand slides into your hair, bitten-short nails scratching at your scalp- spark a shudder that jumps down each vertebra, prompts you to look up at him. With his hand in your hair, you follow the long, thin line of his arm to his face. From below, he's menacing, face completely cast in shadow, his hair now framing the damaged and ruined skin of his features instead of obscuring them. Just like this, you're one finger away from a death too many people have seen. Maybe you should be concerned on why, exactly, that makes your mouth water.

His fingers- all except the littlest- press down at the top of your head, bring your mind back to the matter at hand. What you had wanted to try.

It's different being level with his cock. Before it was intimidating, something new and unfamiliar- but at least you had Tomura's hand to guide you... or really hold you still so he could use your hand. And that was good, amazing, even- to hear his panting up close and feel him, really feel him as he throbbed in your palm. But you worked up the courage to come here, you made some kind of horrible realization about your own desires in this world and you want to follow that thrilling conclusion to its end before common sense can catch up to the adrenaline.

Down here, with your thumbs sliding up beyond the hem of his pants, stroking at the expanse of pale, smooth skin of his thighs- barely dusted with hair so thin and pale it looks white, it's different. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, foreskin eased back into half-covering the head, a shiny bead of precum glistens at the slit. You touch him, squeeze just how he showed you- and feel the thick vein on the underside pulse hard beneath the pad of your thumb. You resist the urge to swallow, instead opening your mouth and easing out your tongue.

The first lick makes his cock twitch, though you think it's more the sight of you on your knees than the actual sensation. The taste is not quite what you expect; a single bead of precum and that which has smeared is not the bitterness you expected. It's mostly watery, a faint tinge of sweetness that settles in the middle of your tongue, soaks in deep. The next lick is less timid, more adventurous. You press the meat of your tongue up against the underside and stroke upwards, feel his pulse quicken. As you reach the tip, his hips twitch.

This time, you ease him into your mouth- and a wonderful little muttering of "Fuck." that goes straight to your clit. His fingers slide back from the top of your head, down to curl around the back of your skull. He gives you another guiding push, urges you to slide down his length a little more. It's something you can do- it's easy when he's the one talking you into it. And the praise that follows- "That's it, that's right,"- makes you shiver, makes you shift impatiently and try to swallow him down.

You bob easily, your hand covering what your mouth can't, each stroke smooth and slick with the saliva that slips from your lips. Each sound he makes is a badge of honor and you chase them without shame- Tomura's half lidded eyes and lopsided smile is all the sign you need to know he's thrilled with your attempts. Like building a catalog, a reference- trying anything you can think of and waiting for his noises, measuring your success with impatient thrusts and broken-off sighs, choked-down whines.

You sink down on him until your lips meet the sides of your fingers and you have to lay your hand against him, fingers pushing into the mess of pale hair along the base. Your jaw aches, but you want to try- want to swallow him down, to make him lose himself to your mouth just as you'd done to him. His cock touches the back of your tongue and saliva wells up around him- half an inch further and he brushes the back of your throat; you choke.

Your throat spasms, a wet noise escaping from your lips- you struggle to cough around his cock, feel shame rise in your cheeks as you try to pull away- and are stopped by Tomura's hands at the back of your neck, by his voice.

"Oh, fuck yes." He's staring down at you, blood of his iris completely lost to the black of his pupil. He pushes at your head, urges you back down. "Do that again."

Embarrassment washes away, leaves you wide-eyed, something like pride welling up instead. The head of his cock still on your tongue, you play with it for a moment. Breathes even and slow through your nose as you lick at his foreskin, slip your tongue in between. That earns you a sharp intake, so you swirl your tongue around the head, let the almost sweet taste of his precum coat your mouth until you're finally ready to try again.

He touches the back of your tongue and again your mouth floods in response, spit leaking from your lips to cling to his cock and drip over your chin. A deep breath and you do your best to flatten out of your tongue, let him slide in- it's not so severe this time. Like the itch in your throat before a cough, trying to suppress that urge makes your eyes water, so you squeeze them closed. You take him a little deeper- and Tomura moans as your throat constricts around him again; his hands keep you still as you instinctively struggle.

Your nails bite into his thighs, but the warning goes unheeded, utterly ignored as his hips rock, forcing his cock further into your throat. Protests muffled in your throat, but from the way Tomura's eyes roll back, you're not sure he even understands.

"Here, here," He says, one hand catching your chin with three fingers. He draws your chin up, tilting your head back- and the pressure in your throat eases. Breathing through your nose, catching your breath, you again find yourself staring up at him. With careful fingers, he brushes a loose hair from your face- and ghosts his thumb just below your eye where the gaging has made them water. He hesitates there, can't find the words for what he wants to ask. He doesn't have to. It's awkward to nod with his cock still in your mouth, halfway down your throat, but you do your best anyway.

With his hands returning to their place at the base of your skull, you resume. With the new angle, it's easier to take him in. Even if you do have to pause to choke, your own will keeps your hands at the backs of his thighs, keeping him from pulling away from you. Tomura loves every second of it, watches you from above with rapt eyes, keeps your hair out of the way so he can watch his cock disappear further and further into your body. You're doing so well, you look so good, he wants to tell you, but every real word has left his head, leaving him drooling and panting and he wants more

The tightening of his fingers into your hair is the only real warning you get. First, an easy stuttering of his hips, the same little motion that he's tried to suppress before- it makes you choke again, but you know he likes it- and perhaps you do too, feeling wetness well up in your eyes at the pressure in your throat, how your head feels light and empty as you struggle to breathe around him. But usually he gives you a moment to compose yourself- not this time. He whines and through tear-blurred eyes his face contorts in pleasure- his hips thrust again. You sputter, relax your jaw, and let him.

Each stroke makes your throat ache, itch as you fight the coughing fits that build up in your chest, but his next thrust has your nose brushing that tangled mess of hair. His scent, the musk of sweat and arousal fills your nose- and while Tomura greedily fucks your throat, one of your hands falls between your legs, rubs hard against your clit. The long-needed pressure makes you moan- and the vibration of your voice has him rambling, words too half-formed, too broken up by high-pitched, heady noises, too buried under the slick noise of his cock in your mouth for you to piece anything together except:

"Cum- ah!- gon' cum- I- oh," He breaks off again- his teeth sinking into his lower lip. You hold onto the back of his thigh- let him use your mouth until he's gasping, fingers twisting hard into your hair. His cock throbs on your tongue- and with his next thrust, sharp bitterness fills your mouth. With how Tomura moans above you, his brow drawn in high and tight, mouth hanging open, his cracked lips burning bright pink with his teeth's abuse, you couldn't begin to imagine not loving it.

He pulls you in close and you gag again, closer, closer until your nose is buried in those short hairs. Tomura's head falls backwards and all you can see past the black of his shirt is the long column of his neck and red, scratched skin there. This deep you struggle to breathe, to pull in enough oxygen around his cock, but the little dying whimpers of him riding out his orgasm is all that matters in the world right now. He pulls back before blackness can eat at your vision-

and for a moment, Tomura stares at you with such wonder in his eyes. His hands leaving your hair to grab the sides of your face, tilting your head so he can look at you. You can't imagine you look good, covered in tears and spit from gagging, but he runs his thumb along your lip all the same. He pulls you up by your jaw and you have to claw your way up his clothes to keep pace, near falling with your legs half-asleep- his mouth crashes onto yours. His kiss makes you lightheaded in a way even his dick could not, leaves your head spinning as you hold onto his shoulders for dear life.

His legs move, stepping backwards, but his arms give you no choice but to stumble along with him, half-dragging you as he goes. "Good, so good, perfect," He praises between kisses, "My perfect little pet," Another barrage of kisses, so fast and haphazard you can't begin to reciprocate before he's breaking away again. "You'd like that, right? To stay here and be mine." You try to say yes, yes but he's back on you, drawing your lip into his mouth and sucking too hard; all that comes out instead is a high-pitched whimper. You don't even realize where he's taking you until he's pushing backwards through the purple curtains into that dark hallway beyond. He fumbles behind him with one hand until he finds the doorknob.

The lighting is no better than before, a paused game screen lighting up the room in harsh blue light. He doesn't give you long enough to take it in. The room spins as he moves you like a doll, turning you around and shoving you back against his bed. Your knees catch on it and you fall back- and Tomura is back on you in seconds.

This time, he bypasses your mouth, lips latching onto your neck while his hands shove your shirt up and up until he can grope at your chest. Pain shoots from your neck at the harshness of his bite, his teeth sawing into your flesh in desperation to mark you, to force more noises from your mouth- while he catches your nipples between thumb and finger. Whatever had been holding him back before is gone now- he's rough, unhinged, twisting and tweaking at your chest, pulling on your nipples until your chest has to arch with him to assuage the pain. His mouth pops off your throat, breath ghosting over the wet, aching spot he's left behind before he finds another spot closer to your collarbone.

This hands, too, move along. The minimal patience he had for your shirt is lost on your pants; his fingers twist into the fabric and you're gasping for a reason other than his ruinous mouth. Cool air greets your heated skin- and his fingertips push between your outer lips. Tomura immediately detaches from your neck, a long trail of saliva hanging between his lips and your skin as he rears back at his fingers. You already know what he sees; the warmth has been building between your legs for far too long, the ecstasy of letting him use your throat, of listening to him lose himself in you- it hasn't been without effect on you. A single huff of laughter and he's back over you, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he taunts you. "This wet already? You're so dirty," He kisses over the still stinging mark he left, "I knew you liked things that were wrong."

His fingers slip through your slick, dragging it up to your clit. He swirls the pads of his fingers around it, fans the flames in your belly until you're squirming, begging into the darkened room, "Please, please,"

"That's right," He sighs, giddiness still making his voice light and airy, "You want me, don't you? Need me?" You can only whimper and nod, chase his fingers with your hips. "That's alright, I'll take care of you."

He shifts just enough to shove his own pants off his thighs and kick them off- and his left hand holds your thighs open as he settles between them. With his right, he grabs the base of his shaft- and you can't suppress a whimper as the head of his cock slots between your plump lips. He nudges against your entrance, teases your tight hole- before letting it slide through your arousal, coating the underside and rubbing against your clit. The head, fully revealed, peaks up between your legs as you look down- and it dawns on you that yes, this is really going to happen. He's going to be inside you-

And Tomura grins, leans in close to your face until you could trace every scar, even line across his face. As elated as he looks, his voice holds a dark sincerity. "I'm going to destroy you."

It's a promise and he delivers. He pushes into you- wetness eases his way, but he hadn't even stretched you. The head makes you pussy ache, sting around his girth, but he doesn't stop there. He breaks you open, cleaves his way deeper, forces your tight cunt to bend to his will and you do. Your body flutters, strains to accommodate his desires until he's buried inside you completely. Your thighs shake, tremble with the desire to latch around his waist and keep him still- but his hands are already settling just behind the bend of your knee.

"I told you," He says, pushing on your legs until you're bending in half, knees nearly meeting your shoulders. Above you, he consumes your vision, your world. Everything you've ever known fading away in favor of Tomura's scarred face and the way his hair sways when he moves. "You'd like it like this."

And Tomura plants his feet and thrusts. One stroke and your hands are scrambling over his sheets. He drives into you with reckless abandon- any finesse he might've had lost in your soft, pliant, heat. It doesn't matter. The extreme angle has his cock pushing in deep, touching all those new, sensitive places you've never found before. Every motion has him filling you up to bursting, the stretch making your body sing around him until unintelligible noises fall from your lips.

It's too much all at once; his cock is redefining your life, stroking each nerve into a new awareness while he's so close you can nearly kiss him, yet just inches too far, leaving you only able to stare at Tomura's features in rapt wonder. His gaze has long since become lust-hazed, his teeth sinking once more into his lower lip in a feeble attempt to stay quiet- but in reality it does nothing to stop the feral grunts that come in time with his cock pounding at your cervix. Worst of all is the arrhythmic stroking against one sensitive patch of your front wall that makes your entire pussy tingle and spark to life, driven so close to the peak you can't quite reach.

"Tomura," You can barely breathe, each punctuation of his hips knocking the air from your lungs. He doesn't respond, doesn't acknowledge you at all, opting to lower his head and pant against your chest. The heat makes sweat gather, your skin prickle- your arms waver, weak and near lifeless as you reach for his wrists.

"Tomura," repetition makes awareness filter back into his eyes. He stares at you from under the undulating wave of his hair, stray, sweaty strands sticking to his forehead in a wild fringe. "Please," The word barely makes it past your lips as another brutal punch of his hips has your eyes rolling.

"Tell me." His grasp on your legs tightens, digs in until you know bruises color your skin.

"Touch me."

Tomura's breath catches, his hips stutter as that dangerous spark returns to his eyes. He doesn't look away, holds your gaze as his right hand slides from your leg to your belly. With the rest of his fingers curled into a tight fist, the side of his thumb finds your clit. He doesn't even have to move it; each thrust makes your body sway with him, rubbing in time with his cock.

It's immediate- the tightly-wound arousal that's been aching in your belly flares, sparks finally catching in ignition. He keep fucking you, driving your high up and up until you can't stand it, hands grabbing at his arms just to have something to hold on to, something too desperate to be human escaping from your lips- until your mouth falls open and everything comes crashing down. The dam breaks; pleasure flooding out your need, cascading through your body, whiting out everything that isn't his touch, his voice, his cock- and you're arching, twitching, your cunt clenching around him as your clit throbs with his never-ending thrusts.

It's too much, watching you cum, feeling your walls contract around him until you're so tight he can't move and it hurts, your cunt milking him for everything he has and he drives into you until he can't anymore just to see how your legs and fingers twitch in overstimulation. He gives no thought to the way he's drooling mindlessly, how tightly he's gripping your leg- he cares only for the hot, wet sleeve of your pussy and the way your eyes have rolled back because of him.

Tomura cums so hard he shakes, sees stars- his cock kisses your cervix as he fills you, forever marks your pussy as his. His injured arms don't last much longer, but even with how his world goes fuzzy, he's careful with his hands, pulls each finger into cautious fists. Your legs ache from being bent for too long, falling down to rest on either side of his slender hips. Sweat dampens your chest, but he doesn't mind, rests the side of his face there, breathes hot air into the divot of your breastbone.

Your arms fight you, want to lay boneless where they landed, but with several movements that make you feel more like a loose marionette than a human, you find Tomura's back. One hand slides under the wide, loose collar to find the bandages there, the other cups the base of his skull where sweat has dampened the short hairs there that curl wildly.

The stale, unmoving air takes too long to help you cool down- fluids drying on your skin making you itch, feel disgusting-- but the weight of Tomura's head on your chest and his slow, even breaths keeps you anchored in place. But even Tomura must feel uncomfortable because he soon stirs, tipping his head to lay lazy, open-mouthed kisses across your chest. Another movement has you hissing- his hips shifting as his softened cock slips free- and so does the gush of fluids that run over the curve of your ass, pool onto the sheets.

Tomura doesn't even notice, lifting his head to meet your eyes again. In the blue light of his screens, you can make out how his pupils have released their stranglehold over his irises- which in the lighting look purple. Muscles feeling a little more human, you touch the side of his face- and speak the words you've been dreading. "What now?"

He blinks, slow and easy, catlike. When his lips part to speak, they stick together. "We never did play another game of Cloud Seven." And his mouth spreads into a grin- just soft enough, just rounded enough to perhaps be happiness.

=====

If you like my writing, please consider reblogging or leaving me a tip!

=====

Tag List:

@annonymousbread

[worldwidemochiguy]

Dancing On My Soul (M)

“Come on, baby, you knew what would happen if you danced with someone else. You wanted it, don’t try to deny.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. You wanted me to fuck you right there in front of everyone, show them who you belong to.”

“A-and who is that again?”

➵ Warnings: Possessive! Taehyung, Voyeurism, Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Humiliation, Degradation, Creampie, Unsafe Sex (ALWAYS wrap it before you tap it, kids) (not that any kids should be reading this lol if you’re below 18 then kindly scroll away)

➵ Word Count: 2.3K

➵ Masterlist

➵ a/n: requested by anon! sorry if this is nastier than u expected lol, i have to say this is 87% inspired by the above pic of taehyung at the vanity fair trendsetters thing bc hot damn

Taehyung’s eyes burn as you twist on the dance floor, the undulating gyrations of your hips easy to see beneath your tight dress. The strobing lights of the club catch on the sequins that decorate you like a second skin, giving you an almost angelic glow. But, as Taehyung knows, you are far from pure…

You are teetering on the edge, one false step from falling and, as always, Taehyung is close behind. Perhaps he’ll be the one to shove you off.

You are breathless, panting to the heavy beat of the music that shakes through the very foundations of the club. The pulsating vibrations force their way into your blood stream, pumped around your body as your heart contracts. When you catch Taehyung’s eye, it skips a beat, before leaping into overdrive.

He is splayed out in the otherwise empty VIP lounge, legs wide apart in masculine arrogance. You are sure that if you were to reach in between them, you would find him hard and waiting for you. You knew he would be watching you, just as you knew this would anger him. The result of his anger, however, remains a mystery to you. You bite your lip in anticipation.

Raising your arms above your head freely, you twist around, hoping to taunt Taehyung with a glimpse of the open back of your dress. But, a man you had been previously unaware of is waiting eagerly behind you.

As soon as the two of you are face to face, he grins, his teeth flashing as they catch the light, and loops his arms around your waist, tugging you closer.

“You’re so fucking hot,” The stranger says, barely audible above the noise of the club, and you can practically feel Taehyung’s glare intensify, burning a hole through the man’s hand, now splayed across the base of your spine.

His hand is uncomfortably clammy, and his alcohol-soaked breath fanning across your cheek is not the most pleasant sensation, but the only thing you can feel now is excitement. You had been hoping to rile Taehyung up, to bring out that deeper level of depravity you know is buried within him, and this… this is certain to do exactly that.

Your grin wavers slightly as the stranger’s hands slide down to grip your hips harshly. You had been intending to tease Taehyung but that doesn’t mean you’re willing to allow a stranger to grope you.

You start to shift away from him, donning a falsely apologetic grimace.

“Sorry, I’m taken.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t dance, sweetheart.” The man smirks, attempting to tug you back into him.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth spreads itself across your back. You are pulled backwards until you hit a firm chest behind you, arms securing themselves tightly around your waist.

“You’d better keep your hands to yourself,” A deep voice growls, the reverberations echoing through his chest and into you, traveling right down to your core. “-or I’ll have each individual finger broken. Then, maybe you’ll learn to not touch what is mine.”

You tilt your head to see Taehyung snarl the last word, eyes blazing as he watches the man stumble away into the throng of drunken dancers, writhing to the beat of the music. You know by the look in his eye that Taehyung has already memorised the face, and you suspect the stranger won’t be leaving the club without injury.

The heavy bass pulsing through the building fades away as Taehyung flicks his eyes down to you.

And you see that he is furious.

A hand closes tightly around your wrist, and suddenly you are being dragged along behind Taehyung as he stalks back to the VIP lounge. The few partygoers that had dared to occupy the lounge in Taehyung’s absence quickly vacate the couches and exclusive bar, leaving it empty once again as Taehyung sits down, yanking you onto his lap.

“I thought you were a good girl.” Taehyung hisses in your ear as you squirm along his length, fully hardened and pressing insistently against your upper thighs. “That’s what you told me, right? When I asked if you deserved to go to the club tonight, you said, oh yes, Taehyung, please, I deserve it, I’m your good girl.”

“I- I am muh- I’m a good girl.” You whine as he grips your hips tightly and slots you directly above his cock, grinding you against it.

All that separates the VIP lounge from the packed club is a simple cordon. If it weren’t for the poor lighting, anyone could glance over and watch as you rut against him like a bitch in heat. They might still be able to see, if they look closely enough.

That thought drags a choked moan from your throat, and you feel Taehyung’s hot breath against the shell of your ear as he chuckles derisively.

“Are you a good girl? Really? Even though you’re moaning and panting on my cock right here in front of everyone?”

“Nooo~” You whine pathetically, even as your grinding speeds up.

“I think,” Taehyung murmurs, and you feel his hand slide down the heated skin of your bare back and underneath the tight fabric, coming around to grip the side of your thigh under the dress, “I think that you’re a slut, and you’re desperate to let all of these people watch as you come undone.”

“No!” You protest tearfully, writhing as Taehyung’s hand comes around to cup your sex, only a thin layer of lace separating his fingers from your dripping core. To the average drunken partier, you might just appear to be perched on his lap, but if they look any closer it would be obvious to see Taehyung’s hand working underneath your dress.

The humiliation and powerlessness combine into a heady shot of arousal and you slump against Taehyung’s chest bonelessly as he pushes your panties aside and plunges a finger into you.

Your moan drowns out Taehyung’s smug laugh as he begins to pump his finger into you without mercy.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He mocks you, and you let out an ashamed whimper, “You really like this, don’t you? You like being used in front of everyone, like a good slut.”

You shake your head weakly, even as you obediently spread your legs for him. He adds another finger, and you groan as he begins to scissor the digits, stretching you out roughly.

“I bet you’d let anyone fuck you, huh?” Taehyung growls, and his other hand comes up to squeeze your throat, cutting your airways just enough that dark spots begin to appear around the edge of your vision.

“You’re so desperate for cock, you probably would have bent over in the middle of the club for that bastard and let him pound into your tight little hole. Is that why you’re so wet, huh?”

“No!” You cry as he adds a third finger, pressing insistently on the bundle of nerves inside you.

Tears stream down your face from the overstimulation, ruining the makeup you had spent hours perfecting. “I wouldn’t let anyone elsetouch me! I swear! Just you.”

“Just me?” He repeats sceptically, curling his fingers inside of you making you sob with desperation.  

“I promise, I’m yours, only yours.”

“Okay baby,” Taehyung murmurs as his hand recedes from your throat. You gasp, so focused on the sensation of the air flooding back into your lungs that you don’t register Taehyung pulling out of you slowly. You whine as his fingers, glistening with your arousal, come up past your face.

He seals his lips around them, closing his eyes in bliss as he tastes your essence, before drawing them out of his mouth and into your own. You gag slightly as he shoves them down your throat. His lips curl up in smug satisfaction as you swirl your tongue around his digits, coated with both your arousal and his saliva.

“You’re a good girl?” He asks expectantly, and you nod, moaning wantonly around his fingers. You know anyone is free to glance over to the VIP lounge and catch a glimpse of you, dress askew and lips swollen, but you can’t deny the arousal that shoots through you at the thought.

You whine unhappily as Taehyung takes his fingers away, but you are soon distracted by the feel of his mouth pressing hotly against your neck. You whimper as his teeth sink into a bruise he had marked you with a few days ago, and his tongue laves over the wound soon after, as if in apology.

You barely hear the sound of his zipper over the music in the club. But the catchy EDM song playing out of the loudspeakers flies out of your head the moment Taehyung lifts your hips and sinks you down onto his cock.

“Tae, wha- ohhhh,” You moan as his cock stretches you out, and he releases a strained snicker.

“Be quiet, baby girl,” He admonishes you, bouncing you slightly on his cock, causing you to hiccup on another moan, “They’ll hear you, and then they’ll all know what a slut you are.”

You gaze helplessly out at the crowd of dancers, ignorant as Taehyung yanks you down on his cock again and again. If anyone simply looks over at the two of you, they’ll know.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, listening to his rough grunts as he pounds into you, biting your lip to hold back your own noises.

“So… fucking…tight.” Taehyung growls, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. On the last word, the forehead of his cock presses against your bundle of nerves again and you let out a high-pitched whine.

Taehyung’s hips still for a second, before he adjusts his angle and starts pounding into you with renewed energy. Each thrust batters that spot within you and soon you cannot control the steady string of moans that pour out of your mouth.

“Just can’t keep quiet, can you?” Taehyung pants, still managing to sound smug even as his balls slap against your thighs obscenely, “You love cock so much, don’t you? You’re desperate for it.”

“Taehyung,” You wail, breath hitching as he leans in to suck another bruise on your neck. God, as soon as you leave the club everyone on the street will be able to tell that you were just fucked. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what, slut?”

“I need to come.”

You grip one of his wrists, trying weakly to tug it to the front of your dress.

“You want to come? In front of all these people?”

“Yes.” You gasp as he thrusts particularly hard.

Instead of sneaking around the back of your dress like before, Taehyung simply reaches underneath the front. As his fingers move up to toy with your clit, the hemline is dragged upwards so that anyone who looks can clearly see Taehyung’s cock pounding into you at a brutal pace.

He barely needs to touch you before you’re shattering around him with a piercing cry that conveniently coincides with a bass drop by the DJ. You continue to moan mindlessly as he rides through your orgasm, bucking into you with a few sporadic thrusts before you feel his come spill into you.

You simply sit on his softening cock for a few moments, both of you exhausted after the intense orgasm, before Taehyung pulls you off him, replacing your panties which he had shoved to the side so that his come does not leak out of you.

You wonder at how he is seemingly unaffected, neatly tucking himself back into his pants before rising to his feet. He pulls you up with him, placing a quick peck on your forehead to comfort you as you whine from the soreness, his hands darting around to fix your dress and your mussed hair. You know you must look like sex on legs, and the way he smirks at you pretty much confirms it.

Your mind is so dazed, you don’t protest as Taehyung leads you through the club and to the exit. You feel the gaze of several people resting on your runny mascara, shaky legs and bruised neck as you pass. The shame on your cheeks burns almost as hot as Taehyung’s come, which has started to trickle down the inside of your thigh.

Soon, you are in the car Taehyung had waiting for the two of you, and his nose buries itself in your neck as the driver wordlessly rolls up the partition.

“You smell like me.” He remarks in satisfaction, and you laugh weakly.

“I smell like sex.”

“Hm, I wonder why that is.” He replies cheekily, and you unfortunately don’t have the energy to shove him away.

“I hate you.” You moan halfheartedly, and he grins, dragging a protesting you onto his lap once more.

“I’ll leak come on you.” You threaten, before moaning as he grinds his thigh against your over-sensitive core. You feel slightly bad for the driver. That partition is definitely not soundproof.

“Come on, baby, you knew what would happen if you danced with someone else. You wanted it, don’t try to deny.”

“I didn’t.” You deny anyway, squirming as his lips curve into a smile against your marked neck.

“Yes you did. You wanted me to fuck you right there in front of everyone, show them who you belong to.”

“A-and who is that again?” You pant. Taehyung’s hands fit over the bruises his fingerprints dug into your hips, squeezing slightly. The sharp sensation of pain makes you moan.

“Do you need a reminder, baby?”

His cock twitches beneath you, and you grin.

“I think I do.”

[jonesgirl88]

Katie! Do you ever think about how Oliver married Holly because he was looking for Shane before he knew Shane existed? He was looking for someone who would shake things up a little, but in a way that made him better - that made his life better - yet still see him for who he was, and love him for that? Then Shane shows up and even though the timing seems wrong and he can't do anything about it, his heart goes "Oh, there you are. I've finally found you." UGH MY HEART

I DON'T KNOW YOUR NAME AND IT MAKES ME SAD. Until I know your name, you are 'Muse' and I'm perfectly okay with that! You thought you had long answers...hold on, sister. I have wanted to ask you about Holly FOREVER but didn't want to seem stalker-y so I've been holding off. You asked first so HERE'S ALL MY HOLLY & HOLLY/OLIVER THOUGHTS AND DO I HAVE T H O U G H T S. I'm going to try to organize this as best I can. First, if you haven't seen the international version of the FPWL Holly/Oliver drink scene you need to watch it. It will explain why Oliver decided to marry Holly through Oliver's eyes. I need to use 3 quotes: "Don't you think you've waited for her [Holly] long enough? I believe in keeping promises. I am, after all, a gentleman" - Pilot "This odd fellow who loves words and books and things from the past, and has spent his life trying to find a future with someone to share it with. I haven't been very successful at that yet" - For Christmas "Holly you are a beautiful woman with a fascinating way of looking at the world that could entrance the most stoic of men. I had never met anyone like you; you made me uncomfortable with my life and I thought maybe that's good. Maybe my life needs a little shaking up. You certainly did that." - FPWL (International version) First things first: I don't hate Holly. I really want your thoughts on Holly because I don't see her as a "bad guy". She's an antagonist but she's not a villain and she's not hate-worthy in my opinion. Yes, she's flawed. Yes, she's not "wife material". Yes, I wouldn't trust her to watch a goldfish let alone live a life with her. However she's not a bad person and she's very upfront with what she wants. We're only told Holly's side of the story once in FPWL during the drinks at the Brown scene. We have no reason not to take her at face value so from the beginning, she's been honest. She wants to travel the world and write poetry--she doesn't want to be tied down. The elephant in the room: yes, it was VERY wrong of her to run away to Paris. It was VERY wrong of her to cut off contact for 2 years. Holly is a flawed human who, like someone else we know, leaves when things get tough. There is no excuse for her absence and I appreciate none is given other than she is who she is and Oliver has to come to terms with that. Oliver is also a flawed human with a bit of a savior complex. He saved Holly in the middle of a blizzard, a noble and righteous act. He remains true to the covenant of marriage despite his wife running away, a noble and righteous act. He protects Shane in the bank vault when she's freaking out, a noble and righteous act. He's a protector and he calls himself a "gentleman" and he has a strict moral code but as Shane points out, he's a hypocrite. In his need to save the "damsel in distress" (Holly), he sees who he wants to see--someone who needs protection. Holly doesn't need protection past that one instance but he continually wants to be a hero. Oliver is intense. About everything. He and Holly have been married 3 years (said in For Christmas) but she's been gone 2 years (FPWL). Rita and Norman have been working together 4 years and Rita knows Holly. We know Norman and Rita first met Christmas Eve and Holly and Oliver were stuck in a blizzard. Oliver and Holly went from complete strangers to married in one year. If you watch the international version of FPWL, they explain both Oliver and Holly thought they were destined to be together because who survives something like that without something happening between them. Hopefully this is where it all ties together. Oliver sees himself as a "gentleman" but he uses that as a façade to see people how he wants to view them. He puts them in easy-to-understand boxes even if that's not who they are. In this instance, Holly never wanted to settle down but Oliver didn't want to see that. They both thought they belonged together because of what they survived. If Holly didn't want to settle down, why would she propose? I'm not 100% positive, but I'm about 82% sure she thought she could

change him. Holly and Oliver aren't that different; they're both wordsmiths, they both have a love for experiences rather than things, and they both believed they were part of divine timing. Even how they married speaks to the wanderlust of Holly: they eloped. She proposed and 3 hours later they were married. As a man of faith I would think that would cause Oliver to open up his eyes to the reality of who Holly is, but when you believe this person and you are meant to be because of a divine meeting...I can see how and why he rushed in without much forethought. Holly leaves and Oliver freezes in time BUT he does begin to think about what he wants, leading to quote 2. Oliver wants to spend his life with someone. I believe he loved the Holly he built up in his mind, but not Holly the person. Over the course of 2 years, he comes to the realization the Holly of his mind and Holly the person are different beings; one very real and the other a figment of his imagination. Now enter Shane and Oliver wants to put this new mystery in a box but Shane refuses. She bucks his perceptions of her and is part of his growing process he has to go through. I honestly do not believe Oliver had romantic feelings towards Shane until the dance in the DLO. That's the beginning of him realizing he wants Shane but at this point he is still devoted to Holly and I believe he wants her to come back. Unlike Holly, Shane never leaves and he keeps bumping against the wife that left and a woman who doesn't and his heart is definitely conflicted. We know Shane is conflicted; Becky literally tells her to get "an available Oliver". Holly is the characterization of "refusal to confront". Holly ran away when she didn't like her circumstances and it takes 2 movies and 9 episodes for her refusal to be realized. Shane self terminates several times because she can't deal with the circumstances BUT she comes back. Oliver leaves in emotionally charged moments because he can't deal with what's happening BUT he comes back. Now we come to the last quote: the confrontation between Holly and Oliver. Did Holly love Oliver? I think she did as much as she could. She is drawn to a boho, artist, backpacking lifestyle and if she found someone who could do that with her, I think she would have no problem committing to that person. But Oliver isn't like that. He wants a house and a steady job and to work at the post office. Living out of a backpack is as disinviting to him as living a routine is to Holly. Did Oliver love Holly? I think he did as much as he could. He pigeon-holed her and didn't listen to what she wanted when she told him explicitly who she is. He had to grow to see his own errors and in that, he saw Holly for who she really is. At the end of FPWL I think Oliver is seeing Holly for who she is and Holly is seeing Oliver for who he is. I think they care for each other but Oliver is now listening to his heart and realizes what and who he wants. Look at what he says to Shane: "You know, for two years I've imagined what it might be like if it became absolutely clear that my marriage was over. Once all the questions were answered and I knew I would never be Holly's husband again, how would I feel? What would I do?" What did he do? He went out and bought a porch swing. He's over Holly and is ready to move on. The refusal to confront had to be confronted; the truth was revealed; and now we can move on. Oliver and Shane can move on and there's no more running away. Oliver literally says "I'm not letting go". One more quote and then I'll finally answer your question. "Well, when we began together as colleagues charged with delivering so many lost things, I believed that to everything there is a season and to every lost letter there is a divine purpose. Only today, seeing you, Norman, and you, Rita, so happy, and you, my Shane, my love, promising to love me forever, only now do I realize... just how very lost I was, too, and that your friendship and your faith have uh, delivered me as well." - TTA Oliver has changed and he knows he's changed. He's

changed for the better and didn't realize how lost he was until he found his way out. The savior needed a Savior and while he was a "man of faith" before, he's truly a faithful man now. He knows how much he's changed and how much he needed to change to be the man Shane needs and deserves. SO TO FINALLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION: Do I ever think about how Oliver married Holly because he was looking for Shane before he knew Shane existed? Answer: No, because Oliver didn't realize what he needed until he grew up and saw what was in front of him. I don't think his heart knew Shane when he saw her BUT when he starting thawing and allowing himself to feel and think about what he wanted and needed in his life as a partner? ABSOLUTELY his heart, mind, and body jumped to Shane in a moment. This isn't speculation: it's canon. The ring is freshly off. The divorce papers aren't even signed. Holly probably isn't even on the plane back to Paris. Oliver is already building Shane her porch swing because his heart looked up and said "Oh, there you are. I've finally found you." And that, my dear Muse, is totally worth gushing about.

[duskypinkbow]

Shitty weather II Jeff Wittek

summary: You meet Jeff again after a long period of time.

word count: 3,4k (upsy daisy)

note: This is my first fic ever so pls bear with me! :)

A veery very big shoutout to my lil angle @geoffwittek for proofreading and correcting my mistakes! Love u gurl u r the best 🎀

“The house could be packed“ Natalie took the time to warn you. You waved her off while putting your bag between your legs „that’s totally fine“.

As you two drove through LA traffic you looked out at the sky and noticed the clouds are getting grey. „it might rain today..“ you determined, while the two of you continued your conversation. Finally, you pulled up at her house, or to be more specific, David’s house she happened to be living in. Nat parked the car in front of the gate due to the fact that the entrance was already blocked by other cars. Your friend looked at her phone „yeeep“ she said as the scrolled through her messages „there is definitely something going on here…“ - „oh, well I can always leave right away if it gets too much“ you promised while unbuckling your seatbelt and making your way to the house.

„Daaaaavid!“ she screamed, falling to the ground in fear. „You can’t do that to me!“ she complained as her hands rested over her heart. The brown-haired boy giggled, his phone still recording in his hands. After putting it back in his pocket he helped Natalie stand up again. „That’s my idiot roommate..“ Natalie explained to you. „aaaaand boss“ he added smugly, smiling from ear to ear. He stuck his hand out towards you. „David“ he said - „y/n“ you introduced yourself in return.

Once the introductions were done, you observed a big living room further down the hallway. „Come with me…“ Natalie instructed “I’m gonna show you my closet“. You followed her steps through the living room, which was indeed packed with people. Some of them sitting on the big white couch while others were leaning on the kitchen island. Natalie greeted them with a shouted hello, while you just waved shyly in an attempt to symbolise a well meant greeting to all of them.

In the bedroom, your best friend showed you her very well organised closet filled with dresses and fancy skirts alike. „What size shoes are you?“ she asked. “umm.. y/s/s..“ you answered while looking through the endless hangers. „damn, so I can’t give you those fanc-„ before she could even finish her sentence a loud „Naaataaalieee“ came from the hallway. „ugh“ she groaned, reluctantly setting the pair of high heels down. “I’ll be right back..“ you softly nodded and continued to look through her closet.

After some time had passed you still couldn’t decide between three of her alluring dresses. You put the hanger of one of them above your head so that it was hanging clearly in front of your body. „Oh you would look so cute in that one!“ Natalie said as she was re-entering her room. You smiled at your reflection in the big mirror. „Don’t you think it’s a bit too much for a wedding?“ you asked, still a little uncertain. „Absolutely not!“ she denied your worries. „When is the wedding anyways?“ - „in like three month..“ you answered, still glancing in the mirror while posing a little for yourself in assessment. „Then just take this one and the other two… you can decide closer to the day.“ you looked up, in slight disbelief at her offer.  „I mean it..“ she asserted „I won’t need them…at least not in the next couple of months“ her words reassuring you.

With the dresses in your arms, you made your way to the hall in order to leave the big house again. You waved your goodbyes to the people still sitting and chatting in the living room.

As you made a turn in the hallway your head collided with a solid chest, your body almost falling down at the sudden loss of balance. Instead, two hands rested on your shoulders, effectively preventing the fall. „sorry i didn’t see-“ you said while looking up to be met with a pair of brown eyes. Your mouth remained slightly open, the rest of the apology stuck in your throat. It’s been almost six years since you last saw him.

~ 

You met on a rainy day in late autumn. Your clothes soaking wet as you stepped through the door of the studio. „shitty weather out there huh?“ first words he ever spoke to you. „tell me about it“ you nodded, focused on trying to wring out your soaked hair. „I don’t think that will help“ he chuckled lightly. The first time you heard his laugh, the handsome boy looked at you with a little smirk. „heey..can we get a hairdryer or somethin’ for her?“ he requested the man who was passing through the room, his right hand pointing in your direction. „Yeah I can grab one, you guys here for the shoot?“ the employee asked. Both of you nodded simultaneously „Perfect. Could you get ready in here?“ he instructed you on where to go and promised someone would bring the hairdryer.

It was silent on your way in before he decided to end the quiet by asking: „Sooo..is this your first job?“ - „umm, second“ you answered shyly, a bit intimidated by his hight, especially next to your smaller figure. „Is it that obvious?“ you asked, now a little embarrassed, questioning if you already did something wrong. He chuckled again „not at all“ he reassured, holding the correct door open for you „Jus’ wanted to start a conversation “ you smiled, feeling your cheeks flush at his straightforwardness.

„Yeah, I actually have another job in like two weeks“ you said while on the phone, a little after you two began to take some photos for the launching clothing line. „No…- I guess.. - no I need to find a new place for that time.. - yeah.. - worst case scenario I will just go to a hostel or rent a cheap hotel room…- i mean I’m just sleeping there right? - no yeah...i understand.. - i should really get going now.. - i’ll call you back okay? okay.. bye“ you end the call and return next to the tall stranger you just met, waiting for instructions on what’s next in the shoot.

„uhmm“ he begins shyly, still looking to the cameraman who was adjusting his camera. „not to be nosey..but did i hear that right? You need a place to live or something?“ you looked at his side profile, explaining your current situation. „Alright, so about that..“ he interrupts, glancing between you and photographer. „A friend of mine has a spare room going in his apartment. He’s actually already looking for a new roommate, but that could be postponed. If you want to I could call him up and ask if it would be okay for you to stay there?” - „wait.. deadass?“ you ask, his generous offer shocking you. „well, I mean only if you want to?“  He looked down to observe your reaction. „I- yeah..- i mean your friend won’t murder me right?“ you joke, looking up and into his warm. He’s the first to break the eye contact, glancing at the cameraman again. „He’s one of the nicest guys I know out there…“ he assures with a small smile present. „He is so fucking nice, wouldn’t even kill a fly…“ his words of comfort continue. „Well, then yes, please I am totally willing to take you up on that offer“ is your enthusiastic response, his full attention back on you & a genuine smile decorating the handsome features. „Alright...I will ask him after the shoot is over then..“ - „Thank you so much!… it really means a lot -...umm?“ you begin, hopeful of catching his name „Oh shit yeah, guess I never introduced myself right?“ the man realised. „..My name is Jeff“ he said, reaching out for your hand „Yeah right“ you chuckle, not about to fall for his joke. „No, really..“ the smirk is back on his face. „Oh, so you are an undercover police officer just like me?“ you whisper, hoping he might catch the 21 Jumpstreet reference. „damn..“ he mutters while searching in his back pocket „this fuckin’ movie really ruined my life..“ his hand emerges with a wallet, the ID in it soon handed to you. „Jeffery Wittek..“ you read aloud „the one and only..“ he confirms still smiling softly at you.

After the shoot was over Jeff called up his friend, confirming it would be alright if you stayed with him. The very next day he helped you take all of your stuff over to his friend’s apartment.

In the weeks that followed, the two of you grew inevitably close. Although both busy with work & other responsibilities on some days, you still managed to spend at least a few hours each day together.

Sometimes he just checked in on you, making sure to ask if everything was alright. On other occasions, he visited his friend and stayed the whole day to do nothing but spending time together.

You showed him pictures of places you have been to, in return, he would share his childhood memories. You even told him about your plans for the future, while Jeff opened up about his past. It became your favourite pass time to make jokes about his inability to read properly, to which he would only tease about your short height.

Throughout your stay, the pair of you talked almost every night, about everything, just because it came so easily between you two. Always enjoying every second of valuable time together, not wanting it to end.

One of those nights, you finally built enough courage to admit that you were moving out of the country to live in Italy with your boyfriend. In reply, Jeff confessed his plans to move out to LA cause he met a girl.

Your friendship started innocently. Neither of you would have thought that it could ever build into such an intense and deep connection within the short amount of time. You were strangers only days ago, now openly sharing secrets usually too afraid to tell even the closest of friends. Maybe it was because both of you understood the reflected lack of ulterior motives in honesty. After all, you made sure to just keep things friendly, flirting carefully avoided. Or because you knew both of you were leaving, that alone reason enough not be dishonest with each other. Whatever it was, it started to become a little dangerous with time, you all too aware that the two of you were playing with the fire.

Time continued to pass, you could feel yourself begin to like the familiar boy more and more. Your heart would beat faster any time you saw him, breathing stopping for a second every time his skin touched yours. It continued on: you would get lost in his beautiful eyes whenever he looked at you, asking yourself if he could feel the same way you were. If there could ever be more. You did your best to stop those thoughts immediately, reminding your mind how you were about to leave the country for your boyfriend, whom you loved and didn’t want to betray. Besides, Jeff started to see that girl.

One night, Jeff's friend decided to hold a little get together with some of his friends, your stay in the apartment effectively forcing you to take part. Everyone had their fun, all chatting & playing drinking games on a cheerful night.

After a while, some of you somehow ended up on the rooftop of the building. Most of the people out there just wanting to get a bit of fresh air or have a cigarette, but you went up solely to enjoy the view. You loved going up to the roof just to see the shining lights of the city that doesn’t sleep.

„So your stay here is coming to an end huh?“ Jeff was the one to interrupt your admiring, walking up to you, while you looked out to the lights. You nodded „yeah“ the word spat out sadly before taking another sip of your drink. „I never thought three weeks could be over with so quickly..“ his words carried a sad undertone. „Me neither..“ you acknowledged, „i think i did and saw more in those three weeks with you than ever before“ he chuckled at the true words. „yeah.. we experienced quite a lot of New York together“ he made sure to exaggerate with his accent, sight remaining locked on you.

When you finally looked up at him, you couldn’t help but tease „So.. Is the tough Wittek gonna miss me?“ you asked jokingly while running your hand through his wind tousled hair. „Of course i will.“ he admitted. „Haven’t had so much fun in a long time..“. A smile sneaked its way across your face „oh your gonna have fun again when you are reunited with your special lady.“ you rebutted, oblivious to how his smile faded a little. Of course he would have fun again he thought. But the girl he was seeing right now wasn’t you. She was funny, but her humour couldn’t compare to yours. She was beautiful but she didn’t have those cute little dimples, which only showed when you laughed aloud. She had a promising career in front of her, but she just wasn’t you. „I guess…“ he eventually replied, still deep in thought about the girl who couldn’t compare.

You took another sip of your drink and gazed away into the distance before finally glancing at the man who had your heart.  „I think you- ..you have a little eyelash on your cheek“ Jeff said, abandoning his drink in favour of stepping a little closer and moving his hands up to your face.

One of them rested gently on your cheek, to give your head some balance as he titled it upwards, the other grazing right under your eye to get the fallen lash. His fingers lightly brushed over your skin, grasp so gentle on your face as if it was something precious. As if it could break if he put too much pressure on your little cheek. It was the very first time you really let yourself look him in the eyes tonight. Not that you haven’t looked into the brown pools before, but this time, in the light of the city, just inches away from your face, you really saw the artistic strokes of the different shades of brown melting together. You saw how the dark parts covered up the few light spots,  saw his kindness and how much he truly cared about you, all by simply looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

His hand stayed on your cheek, despite the lash being long gone. You breathed out audibly, lost in the present moment. The scent of his cologne travelling up and into your nose in the proximity you two shared right now. „we should-..probably get back to the party…“ he whispers slowly, involuntarily glancing at your lips while his palm moved from its hold on your cheek to the back of your neck. „mhmm“ you could only hum lightly in response, feeling your heart starting to beat faster, slowly rising to your tippy toes. Your face is slowly inching closer to his &  then you can feel his breath on your lips, eyes starting to close on their own accord, the two of you so close and right before your lips could touch - „Paarty time!“ one of Jeff's friend accidentally interrupts, tipsy shouting entering the rooftop. The two of you pull back immediately, not wanting him or anyone else to witness the kiss you almost shared. The friend walks obliviously towards Jeff. „man we thought you’ve left already!“ his word stuttered drunkenly. „No, I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye“ he chuckles away as if  the moment you two just had never happened.

You had three more days in New York after that slip up before you finally left for Europe. Neither Jeff nor you mentioned the moment you two had together. After that night, and after you both finally sobered up, you convinced yourself that Jeff was too drunk to even remember what could have happened. His own thoughts were similar. Both of you far too scared to say something and ruin the time left. You were too embarrassed because Jeff had already started to date that girl he thought he liked, not to forget you were in a relationship with a boy you thought you were in love with . Both too cowardly to admit that there is indeed a spark there.

As your last day has come Jeff and his friend escorted you to the airport. „Man it will be so weird not having you around anymore y/n“ Jeffs friend said while driving through New York traffic. You looked out of the window in the backseat of the car. „I’m really gonna miss this..“ you stated, now slyly looking at Jeff, sitting in the passenger seat without returning your longing glances. In reality, what you would really miss..is him. You would miss his high pitched laugh, dark sense of humour and dry jokes, his warm and caring hugs and especially, his presence in your life. Not knowing if you would ever see him again or if you will ever come back to America again.

Jeff and his friend lead you to your gate, saying their goodbyes, promising to visit you in Italy someday, assuring that you’ll always be welcome if you decide to return. You hugged your new friend, who allowed you to stay in his apartment so graciously  before looking up at Jeff. „Come here..“ he says, opening his arms for your embrace. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting atop of yours. You breathed in heavily, trying to hold back the inevitable tears. He stroked your back in comfort „I’m really gonna  miss you y/n/n..“ he conceded in a whisper. „me too..“ you admitted as well. „Promise me we will see each other again?“ Jeff asked, now looking down at you, while your own gaze travelled up to his eyes. You smiled sadly „I promise..“ you nodded with watery eyes. He hugged you again, saying your last goodbyes before you left to get your flight.

~

Jeff’s hair was slightly wet from the rain outside, a similar expression of shock on his face.„wow..uh, what?“ you let out, first to break the silence between you. „wow…“ he repeated dumbfounded. His hands were still resting holding onto your upper arms before he eventually raised them to his head in an act of disbelief. He shook his head, not sure if this was really happening right now, if it was really you in front of him. „I-„ you started again, but before you could keep talking he quickly forced you into a tight embrace.

His hands went back to your shoulders, still unsure if it was really you „This is insane..“  He muttered eventually, „it is..“ you confirmed. „How long has it been?“ Jeff was quick to ask while you still struggled to grasp the situation. „Almost 6 years..“ you uttered lightly.

„How’s Vince?“ he couldn’t help but ask with interest. „Oh...we uh, we broke up a while ago..“ you admitted, remembering your days in Italy. „oh I’m so sorry.“ the reply was sympathetic. „Yeah..how is Cierra?“ you asked in return, curious about the girl he started to see when you guys just met. Jeff glanced over into the living room, suddenly aware of all who were witnessing your reunion. „we also broke up a while ago..“. The information delivered with no emotions. You nodded lightly, unsure on how exactly to react or respond.

You checked your phone to look at what time it was, „I should probably go now..“ you mentioned, breaking the short moment of silence between you two. „Yeah..“ Jeff nodded, freeing your way to the exit. As made your very first step towards the door he stopped you by saying „Listen, before you go, can i get your num-“ before he could even end his sentence you interrupted „-just ask Natalie for it“ you informed him, „‚cause if you won’t, i’ll promise you that i will..“ you stepped closer to the door while teasing. „I’m not gonna lose touch with you again Wittek..“ you reveal and he chuckles.

Just when you were reaching for the front door again Jeff stopped you „y/n..“ you turn to look back at him, seeing that his stretched out hand held an umbrella „Here, take this..“ he demands softly „S’shitty weather out there..“ he adds with a little knowing smirk.

[eatfishies]

i’m good at goodbyes

summary: Without even realizing, you and Tendou had both grown apart just like the wilting leaves in autumn.

note: Slight spoiler from the manga since it features time skip! Tendou. Borders signifies time skip but no exact date specified. fem! reader. she/her pronouns. word count: 1,911 words warnings: none genre: angst arthie’s note: i tried to capture that feeling of being in the autumn season so i googled a lot of metaphors related to it but idk if it makes sense (╥_╥) also this fic literally makes my chest hurt from writing it lolol. i got rlly sad writing this.. also idk if i’m quite satisfied with it.. felt like i could do better but my friend liked it and i’m kinda lazy to fix it. anyways i hope all of you enjoy it nevertheless ~ ↳ back to main masterlist ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ “I like you, Tendou-san!” She confessed, staring at the ground instead of looking into the taller boy’s gaze. He smirked, “Oh? How long have you been liking me then?” The playful tone caught her off guard as she looked up at him. Her brows furrowed in confusion, “W— what?” “How long did you like me before deciding to confess to me, hm? Answer it and maybe you’ll get a surprise answer from me too!” He exclaimed, grinning. Biting her lip while nervousness bubbles in the pit of her stomach. Her mind racing back and forth to find the right words to say. He hums, “Don’t make me wait for too long or else I’ll get bored and leave you alone.”

With hesitation, she utters out. “I— I like you for 4 months now, Tendou-san.” The wind blows, making the leaves from the trees stumbling to the ground, whiff of autumn fronds easing her anxiousness as she anticipates the answer. He giggles, grabbing a hold of her hands. “Then let’s date!” She lets out a startled gasp, “I’m s— sorry, what?!” He sways her hands back and forth, “Do you not hear me? I said let’s date.” Blinking up at him as bewilderment settles on her face. “Tendou-san... do you like me?” Crimson eyes bore into hers, “You silly girl. Of course, I like you! If not i wouldn’t have asked you out to date, aren’t I?” Chuckling at her frivolous question. She beams at him, “Okay! I’ll date you!” The grip on her hands tightens as he flashes back a smile of his own. The chilly breeze wafting through them as the trees shakes, maple colored leaves falling, warmth pooling in their stomachs. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Exhaling, Tendou leans back on the chair after exhaustion wears him down from kneading the dough and letting it rest aside, sweat dripping down his face as he rubs it away with a towel. The front door clicks open as she entered the house, “I’m home!” Announcing as the shoes slips off of her. “Y/n! You’re finally home!” He rushes to greet her and welcome her in his embrace however upon seeing her tiresome expression, he frowns. “What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly, checking her temperature. A small smile etched on her lips, “Nothing, it’s just work.” She reaches out and envelopes him in a hug.  Rubbing her back as an attempt to soothe her worries, “Don’t think about that at home. I’ll cheer you up! I’m making sourdough right now!”  She chuckles at his chirpy mood, “Okay. I’ll look forward to tasting it.” They fall into their normal routine, him making a mess in the kitchen while she goes to clean herself and unwind from the stress at work. “So how does it taste?” His eyes glinting with anticipation. She hums, relishing the soft bread in her mouth. “It’s so good! Babe, you’ve done such a great job!” She praises as she takes another nibble of the bread. He grins happily, “I’m glad you like it! It makes my heart warm seeing you happy!” ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Days turns into weeks turns into months of their routines. However the blazing spark of devotion is no longer apparent in both of their glares nor their hearts. Growing distance as they both get consumed by ambition and the drive to strive for a better future. I love yous evaporated into short glances that turned into radio silence when one of them returns home or when they both fall asleep in their shared bed. No more lingering caresses leaving one’s fingers nor tenderness words that makes their heart beats rapidly with affection. With Tendou insisting that he should stay over at Ushijima’s place because it’s nearby the bakery that he works at. The house is left all alone to her possession except for the occasional visit from Shirabu and Semi or her mother. It went by quickly and they both haven’t realized that they managed to not say a word to one another— not even through text messages or phone calls. It was as if they weren’t in a committed relationship to even begin with. Too much work tasks to focus on and not enough time to think about their significant other. However one day, she forgot her house keys and is currently stuck outside, mentally slapping herself for not checking properly before leaving for work. Oh, Satori is at home! She thought suddenly but the thought diminished as she realizes he hasn’t come home nor talk to her for months. Sighing, she sent a text asking if he has the spare key and much to her luck, he still has it. Now, they’re both standing in the park as autumn leaves breezes through the wind. The grip on her bag tightened as she stared at the man whom she no longer feels familiar with. “Hey Y/n... long time no see, huh?” A loop-sided smile plastered on his face as his scarlet gaze holds little to no emotion. “Hi.. Satori.” She mutters out, seeming to become aware of the distance they’ve both put up. Her stomach wasn’t filled with butterflies of excitement from seeing him or being in his presence. Her heart isn’t pounding at a fast pace nor does she get giggly around him anymore. It dissipated into an oblivion. With just a mere glance at him, she could tell those eyes held no infatuation towards her either. “I got the spare key here.” His palm revealed the item he mentioned with the keychain of chocolate ice cream attached to it. Inhaling, she takes the key out of his grasp. “Thank you.” Observing the key, it seems untouched and rustic due to neglect however it might work just fine. Silence washes over them as they both stood in front of each other, their words diminished from their tongues; forgetting what it’s like to communicate with each other. He speaks up, “So... I guess this is it?” She searches his eyes for a sign or something but found nothing. It’s all empty. The warm gaze she cherished is long gone. It’s too late to fix the burgeoning space between them no matter how hard she tries. The mutual feeling ceased to exist. Although that doesn’t mean it hurts less, “Yeah, I guess this is it.” He nodded solemnly, “Goodbye Y/n.” A sharp intake of breath and she lets out a quiet mutter, “Goodbye Satori.” His eyes lingers on her one last time before turning around and walking to his destination. Tears ran down her cheeks as she finally grasped upon the idea of not being able to see him again. This is really over. They’re both too busy chasing their dreams that they didn’t realize that their relationship was instantaneously falling apart. Leaves tumbling from the fallen trees as the skies grew darker and the gust of air becomes colder; just like the love they once had. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ “Attention all passengers, flight PS16 is about to board in 10 minutes. Please check in at gate D64 before boarding the flight.” He smiles at his stoic best friend, sadness gleamed in his harsh stare. “Don’t be sad, Wakatoshi-kun. We’ll see each other again when you have a match in Paris!” He pats Ushijima’s back, reassuring him. “Why didn’t you tell Y/n?” He asked promptly, surprising the red-headed man. He raises his brows, “Ah... I don’t want to upset her any further. Even though we are no longer together, I’ll always have a spot for her.” He admitted, recalling the memories of their last encounter. “Attention passengers, flight PS16 is now boarding. I repeat, flight PS16 is now boarding. Please check in at gate D64 before boarding the flight.” Tendou gave one last smile at his best friend, “I have to go now, Wakatoshi-kun. I’ll see you later. Send my farewell to Y/n.” He waves as he walks away from Ushijima. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ The birds chirps in the early morning, she came to a halt, panting heavily from the jog. “I really suck at exercising...” She mumbles to herself, sitting on the bench nearby. Wiping her sweat away with a handkerchief, she saw a tall figure approaching her. Feeling apprehensive, she prepares herself to defend from the stranger. “Y/n.” She stares up in shock at the person standing in front of her. “U— Ushijima-san?” She croaks out, blinking rapidly. Shaking her head, “What are you doing here?” “I was on a jog but I saw you here which is why I came up to you.” She restrained herself from giggling at his nonchalant statement. Before she could make any small talk, he interrupts her. “Tendou sends his farewell to you.” “Huh?” She furrowed her brows in confusion, “What do you mean?” “He has moved to Paris and decided to pursue a career as a chocolatier.” “Oh.” Averting her gaze to her fiddling fingers, so he left for good... she wondered idly. Fluttering her eyes closed, she utters. “Thank you for telling me, Ushijima-san.” When she opens her eyes, he remained in the same position as previously, watching her intently. “Don’t be sad. Tendou said you’ll always have a spot in his life.” He states monotonously. She gave a small smile to him, “Thanks but I think our relationship had ended way before we both realize it, unfortunately.” The skies getting brighter, crows latching off the crumbs of food on the ground as people rush to their destination. “I don’t particularly understand what you two meant when you both said that but I will be leaving now. Have a nice day, Y/n.” He continues jogging off before she could bid him goodbye. Traces of his touch lingers on her skin like a ghost possessing a mortal’s mind. The orange leaves falls in a swift motion, flying among the whiff of air. She wanted to cry but all of her tears have ran dry from the persistent thoughts of him. The love was no longer reciprocated by both parties and all that’s left is the wilted warmth of what used to spark their hearts. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Somewhere in Paris, he observes the scenery before him. A void in his chest— it was as if he left his heart somewhere in Japan and never got it back. Recollection of her heartbroken sobs ingrained in his mind, replaying over and over continuously without stopping. Tears built up in his eyes as he furiously blinks them away from threatening to spill. Never would’ve imagined that the dreadful day of departing from her would become so unbearable with pain. Pain of losing someone whom are fully aware that they could never return the flame of infatuation back to you and realizing that you are also unable to repay what’s last bit of adoration you’ve once had for that person. It’s too far gone— wavering into the wind, carrying all of the sorrows from the past into an oblivion. The maple leaves sheds to the soil with graceful sweep, fleeing from their home. With a shuddered sigh, he lets the tears stream down his face, ignoring the curious pedestrians stares. Just like the petal slipping from the tree’s grasp, he would have to eventually accept that they both have to move on to grow as an individual— even if that means leaving their yearning for each other. Smiling to himself, he thought carelessly. Autumn does not bring me comfort nor warmth anymore. It no longer feels like home— safe and tender when all it feels like now is melancholy and devoid.

[hydrangeasimagination]

Someone You Like

Pairing(s): Izuku X Gender Neutral! Reader

Summary: The same cafe drew him into it, the sweets weren't amazing... Nor were the drinks. After first seeing you once, he can't help but keep coming back. The two of you would always meet eyes just as he came in and that smile you gave him always left him weak at the knees. This time is different... Because this time, he's there first.

Warning(s): Age gap? Except not really? This particular reader is a college student, around 2-3 years older than him.

A/N: Inspired by the song "Someone You Like" by The Girl and The Dreamcatcher. This is connected to my Brother's Three series and about how he starts being with his own s/o; Meiji! Also, Happy early birthday to Izuku!!!

Their quirk is not made mention of.

[Shouto’s Fic: Make A Move]

[Katsuki’s Fic: Unforgettable]

[Toshinori’s Fic: Smoke] 

“I might never be your hero

But I think I'd like to try

And the way you look at me is your reply

You got a lot to learn about me

Maybe you could start tonight

'Cause I think I could be someone you like

Someone you like ♡”

The too bitter taste of tea and the scent of coffee became routine, the dullness on taste buds was nearly cringe worthy. Though there was no reason to be too angry about it, as it could just be dulled by the sugar packets and washed away with the strawberry biscuits.

It smelled nice at least, perhaps the distaste of coffee and preference of tea spoke his bias of the reviews running through his head.

The music playing over the speakers, some indie American song, he could hear chatter along with the light drum of his pencil.

Emeralds remained alert, drifting from the half-written report to the door.

Today was a little bit of a tough one.

But Midoriya came anyway, being his daily tradition.

His eyes strayed to the door once more, settling into the overstuffed seat, he mulled silently over why he continued coming. The prickling of heat coating his cheeks and the tips of his ears scorching, chewing quietly at his lip.

Through the passage of his time, once coming for shelter from the rain was a chance encounter. Meeting gaze with a stranger that commented on his work book and flustering him terribly when informing him of the mistakes he'd made. Being captivated by the sugary tones of the softest voice he'd ever heard whilst rescuing him from the embarrassment of asking his peers.

It became apparent the by the third time he came to or passed the cafe, they were a regular.

A simple glance through the window and a wave, a smile that made his legs feel like jelly.

... Always the conversation starter if he ever were to pass through again.

Suddenly, it was routine for him to come.

Just to learn more about this soft-faced stranger that always spoke to him.

Days turned into weeks.

His search history flooded with nothing but questions of reading body language and soaking in as much as he could about everything he could about flirting. Midoriya sure as hell has had crushes but it didn't mean he ever mustered up the nerve to speak to them, certainly not someone like...

Like you.

Izuku slapped his hands on the sides of his head, paying no mind to the barista snickering behind the counter.

Checking the time again, the feeling of hope slowly diminishing from inside of him.

It was pretty late.

Where were you?

Had you decided not to come today?

Should he leave?

No!

What if he missed you?

What if you still came through?

Maybe he should -

Mumbles started spilling from his mouth before he could stop them, brain running in circles through all of the possibilities. His brain buried in his worries and too distracted to look from the papers set before him, fingers wrapped tighter around the barrel of his mechanical pencil.

"This seat taken?"

The squeak that leaves his mouth is anything but dignifying, especially when he snapped his head up.

Peering down at him through your specs, the glimmer of amusement was unmistakable. Causing a torrent of butterflies twisting in the pit of his stomach and suddenly feeling rather warm despite the air vent blowing cool air down the back of his neck.

"N - no!" He cringed at how his voice broke and cracked.

Izuku's already scorching skin only became hotter, so much so that he was worried red would stain his skin for the rest of his life. Embarrassed to hear the mellifluous notes of your laugh.

Gosh...

You were way prettier up close.

... Oh, you were almost too close.

"Need help with that report there, Superboy?" The teasing lilt of your voice was not lost on him.

"U - uh -" He couldn't speak.

He ducked his head down as he'd not been sure if he could stare into those pretty eyes of your's without fainting.

"I - it's almost done," Sheepishly, he started rubbing his arm "I just need some more reading to do."

The sound of the chair being pulled out stopped his brain from spiraling into madness again, settling down across from him and setting down the leather sketch book he'd coveted to see just a glance inside of. As you unpacked your things, taking off your beanie, he took his second to admire you as he did every time he saw you.

Amber sunlight from the window set an outline around you, bathing you beautiful reds and oranges. Setting a warmth and softening any hard edges that he'd noticed, lashes casting shadowed crescents on your cheeks with every blink.

God, what a lovely sight.

Absolutely beautiful.

It's amazing how something as simple as the setting made you look almost ethereal.

"Hey, Midori."

He flushed at the nickname, nearly tucking his chin in the collar of his shirt and shrinking away.

Incredibly embarrassed that he was caught staring so hard.

Was he being creepy?

"Change the subject!" His inner thoughts railed.

Swallowing the lump formed in his throat, he asked, "Y - you're kind of late today, did something happen?"

"Oh," Chin rested on your arm, elbow resting on the table, "my design class made me wanna stay behind a bit this time, get a better grasp on our assignment."

Izuku's eyes glittered slightly, admiration washing over him. A habit formed from being around dedicated beings, you were no different.

Though you were interested in the realm of art and fashion than heroism or tech.

"Anyway, hand me the textbook. You're going over the laws of heroics, right? I can quiz you."

"A - ah, thank you."

The flipping of pages, black inked words printed on glossed pages became a little some thing of a routine. Getting lost between the lines of text, soaking in information and trying to keep himself from being distracted.

To keep himself from staring at you.

Your concentrated face was cute.

He resisted the urge to look up when he heard the hums of a tune you liked.

Fingers anxiously drumming on the surface of the table, other hand propping up the textbook he read.

Nervous.

As he always was when he was close to you.

It wasn't enough to describe the utter anxiety he felt when he was in your presence.

A choked noise came from the back of his throat, head jerking up.

Laced through his digits was your own, gently entwining them and wrapping his calloused hands in warm skin. Hands so soft and delicate in comparison to his own, silken under his coarser fingertips

You didn't even look up.

But you were smiling.

His eyes drew spirals.

You.

His crush.

Holding his hand.

Was this a dream?

Certainly one he didn't want to wake up from.

It was like his entire head was on fire but he didn't protest, he'd be a fool to waste this opportunity. Squeezing your hand in his own, he tilted his head back down towards his book.

Lips pursing as the corners of his mouth twitched into a shy smile.

He stroked his thumb over the ring on your's.

This was nice.

It felt like he was floating on air.

Like you two were the only ones there, though he heard the gossip from behind the counter. The chatter of voices around you.

"Midori."

"Y - yes?"

His palms were a wee bit sweaty.

He hoped you didn't pull away because of that.

Silence for a beat, maybe two.

Enough to make him look at you and for his heart rate to climb, the fond smile decorating your features made him feel like jelly.

"I never did ask you for your number, did I?"

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before I

Chapter: 1/15

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Eventual Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The night was coming to an end, whether Ringo wanted it to or not. John and Paul had left half an hour ago, and as the club's inhabitants gradually thinned Ringo began cursing himself for not taking the opportunity to share an Uber home. Yet he still felt determined to stay clinging to the bar until the staff would have to force him to leave. This had become a common occurrence as of late, Ringo clinging on desperately to the end of every single night out as though it would provide anything at all. Despite all his attempts to go home with somebody, anybody, there didn't seem to be a single person remotely interested. Perhaps a change of scenery would've helped, but he'd been coming to this club for as long as he could remember; the music was good, the drinks were cheap, and the men were relatively good looking, what more could he ask for?

Taking a final sip of his vodka-coke, Ringo looked around the dimly lit room in a last attempt to find someone to go home with. He knew he wasn't looking his best, his stubble grown far beyond looking rugged and bordering on sloppy, his flimsy pair of sunglasses resting on the collar of his shirt with a spillage stain clear to see. Everyone else in the room seemed to have the same idea, preying eyes tracing the walls as each person waited for someone else to make the next move. It was rather depressing really, a bunch of men desperately clinging on to the hope that someone would find them moderately attractive enough to fuck them once and never see them again. What kind of romance was that? Ringo let out a soft laugh at the thought, shaking his head as he decided it was probably best to slink home than embarrass himself trying to flirt. Paul and John seemed to have it so easy, like they were made for one another, and here Ringo was struggling to even get a second date from a guy.

Ringo heard the fateful words that signalled the closing of the bar, only giving him about half an hour before the whole place shut down too. Letting out a sigh, he turned his back to the bar and leaned against it, taking one last glance around the desolate space before putting his sunglasses on and heading towards the exit. The cold air stung his once warm face, he pulled his jacket tighter to his body in an attempt to keep some heat. Outside the club were various scenes of debauchery: girls toppling around in their high heels barely able to remain upright, teenagers throwing up in the gutter, men sprawling with one another any chance they got. It was pretty pitiful, but Ringo loved it in a way. It was just so familiar. A small smile spread on his lips as he took out a cigarette to light, he knew better than to try and get an Uber at this time - he'd lost enough money with the rush hour - so he decided to wait it out until everything calmed down before he shamelessly made his way back home. Few people had the same idea, everyone was rushing around after taxis or trying to get signal on their phones, Ringo couldn't help but feel a little smug to have seen this situation coming a mile away. The sounds of the city were calming to him, even the crisp coldness of the air was refreshing.

"Bum a cig?" A voice broke Ringo's fragile serenity, one belonging to someone he didn't recognise.

Ringo managed to hide how startled he'd been, evidently he hadn't realised how much the alcohol had been dulling his senses. With his sunglasses on it was hard to tell exactly what he was looking at, but the voice certainly wasn't familiar.

"Sorry?" Ringo replied, suddenly feeling far drunker than before.

The voice chuckled "Can I have a fag?"

"Oh... Yeah, sure." Ringo fumbled around in his pockets for the packet, then offered them to the stranger.

Cigarette in mouth, they waited for Ringo to spark the lighter which had become an impossible task. He wished he'd lied from the beginning because this was just getting embarrassing.

"Stupid fucking thing." Ringo mumbled, his anger growing as the stranger's presence felt heavier and heavier.

The stranger chuckled once more then moved Ringo's hands gently away so that they could bring their face closer, managing to light the cigarette from Ringo's own without much trouble. For a moment Ringo didn't think they were going to pull away and he felt his heart quickening, but they soon did and leaned against the wall beside him casually.

"You here alone then?" They asked, Ringo began trying to guess what they looked like from their voice alone.

"That obvious is it?" Ringo envisioned someone younger than himself, their voice was certainly attractive but that didn't necessarily mean they would be.

"Sunglasses give it away." They replied curtly, their accent was fairly thick "Can you even see in them?"

The stranger lowered themselves slightly so that they could stare directly into Ringo's eyes, or at least where he assumed they would be. Ringo let out a short laugh and took another drag from his cigarette, what was this guy's aim exactly?

"Not really." Ringo cleared his throat "There's some things I'd rather not see on nights like this."

"Fair enough. Makes pulling easier, I bet." They rested their foot on the wall, the longer Ringo stared the more he could discern a faint outline of their body.

"If it did would I be standing here at 4 in the morning?" Ringo chuckled, exhaling smoke.

The man laughed in response but said nothing else. A silence fell over them for a few minutes, nothing but the bustling sound of the city gradually emptying itself. For the first time in his life Ringo cursed his signature choice of wearing sunglasses, not knowing what this stranger looked like could prove rather detrimental. Whether they were trying to make a move or not, Ringo wasn't sure he was desperate enough to fuck somebody whose face was a mystery. Taking in another deep breath of smoke, he debated a smooth strategy of getting his glasses off without being too obvious. If their voice was anything to go off, they sounded rather attractive, but that was hardly enough. Unfortunately the types who tended to hang around after clubs closed down weren't often the nicest things to look at, all the good-looking ones had gone off with their equally attractive partners hours ago.

"Don't suppose you're headed to an afters." The man finally spoke again, taking Ringo a little by surprise as he'd become so preoccupied with his thoughts.

"If you count heading home and passing out on the bathroom floor an afters, then sure." Ringo flicked his cigarette away into the gutter and slid his cold hands into his pockets.

"Probably a sign to call it a night then." He spoke softly but didn't move from Ringo's side just yet.

Ringo grew impatient, it was now or never, no matter how many ideas floated around in his mind he couldn't think of a non-obvious way to take his sunglasses off so he just pulled them down the ridge of his nose as casually as he could manage. Only moving his eyes and not his head, he finally caught a glimpse of the stranger: dark, shaggy hair and a sharp face. Maybe it was the alcohol skewing his vision, but the man looked absolutely stunning. This was the deciding moment, if he messed this up the chance would be gone and he'd be going home alone for yet another time - it had gone beyond counting. Whether this guy was far beyond his league or not, Ringo just had to try, he wasn't afraid of a little rejection if the potential reward was so sweet.

"I know a place that might still be open." Ringo blurted out a little too desperately, trying to maintain his composure "It's a little dodgy but you can't really be picky at this hour."

"Oh yeah?" The man turned to face him, and Ringo thanked the support of the wall for preventing his knees from buckling "Is it close?"

It took Ringo a moment to think of a coherent answer, this man really was beautiful. Exactly why he was bothering talking to some aged alcoholic like himself, he'd never know, but he wasn't about to spoil this golden opportunity. He was just about drunk enough to have the confidence to back himself, even if it didn't work out maybe he could seek somebody out in the next joint, but that was really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

"We can walk it, it's just a couple of streets down." Ringo took a step away from the wall then feared he looked too enthusiastic.

"Sounds good, lead the way." The man said with a smile "I'm George, if you were wondering."

Ringo slowly began walking down the now relatively barren street, just a few stragglers were meandering at a variety of angles.

"Ringo." Ringo replied with a small smile, he hadn't realised the height difference between the two of them until now.

"Huh?" George had zipped up his windbreaker and brought his shoulders up to protect his face from the cold.

"That's my name... Ringo." Ringo repeated, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

George laughed and Ringo caught a glimpse of his teeth, his canines far sharper than Ringo had seen before, it flooded his head with images he only hoped he'd see come to fruition.

"Right, sorry." George stopped himself from laughing any further "Not a fake name is it?"

"Course not!" Ringo scoffed, he couldn't help but feel a little offended by the remark "If I was gonna make up a name I'd go for something a little plainer, I think."

"Like George?" George winked with a grin and Ringo almost tripped over his feet.

Could it be a fake name? Ringo didn't really care, with a face like that he could be called anything at all and he'd still be interested.

"I'm just kidding." George nudged Ringo lightly "Never understood the point of fake names. Where's the fun in fucking someone who's gonna call out a name that's not yours?"

The laugh caught in Ringo's throat, he made an attempt to cover whatever strange noise followed with a quick cough. Whatever this guy's deal was, Ringo wasn't entirely sure, he was being a little too friendly for someone he'd only just met but Ringo wasn't exactly complaining. He only wished he looked a little more presentable, standing next to George he didn't need to imagine what a state he must look. Even before Ringo could think of something to say that was attempting to be witty but was unlikely to come across as such, George was speaking again.

"Ringo's got a nice ring to it, though." George reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, sliding one between his lips "Want one?"

It took Ringo a moment to register "But... I thought you didn't have any."

George laughed again, a sound Ringo could easily get used to hearing "Couldn't think of another opener. Sorry for lying, take one and we'll be even."

Ringo reluctantly accepted the offer, pulled out his lighter and began struggling with it once more. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he continued to embarrass himself until George intervened. Snatching the lighter playfully, George moved in closer to Ringo's face yet again so that the tips of their cigarettes were almost touching and managed to spark the lighter after a couple of attempts, lighting them both successfully. It was hard not to panic a little with George so close  to his face, those dark eyes focusing on his slender fingers. Luckily George pulled away before Ringo could let his mind wander. The realisation alone that George had intentionally approached him out of pure interest rather than a need for a smoke made Ringo feel practically giddy.

"We're even now, then." George held his cigarette up like he was making a toast.

"I dunno, you did deceive me after all." Ringo tutted jokingly, turning the final corner before they arrived at their destination.

"Well you'll just have to think of some way I can make it up to you." George grinned, his tongue running over his sharp tooth; Ringo didn't have to be too imaginative to think of a few options "If you play your cards right, of course."

[mytsukkishine]

udgdh maybe long request? so damien haas x reader where when ver the smosh gang go out to drink, damien and y/n are the sober ones that'll keep each other company but recently y/n has been drifting away bc she's in love with him. and one day damien gets hella drunk so y/n has to take him to her apt (which is roommates with Courtney) -maybe some drunk damien singing and giving y/n little kisses and he gets super hungover?? as well as angst/soft shiz?? sorry for the long request!! love yur fics!

A/n: whoa okay anon, I enjoyed myself too much in writing this and I hope this will be to your expectation. *wink wonk* u can anon me again if u liked it pls hahaha enjoy! Though I’m sorry because reader and Courtney aren’t roommates here sorrryyy!!!

summary: Drunk you accidentally kissed Damien. Then you avoid him for days until Courtney invited you out for a drink again. Feelings, kisses and drunk singing. What could go wrong?

a/n2: fluff and angstyy. ya’ll like hurting huh? haha

a/n3: hello, i made a Kofi account and I hope you would support me! I needed a little help with my financial shits and I hope my fanfics can be a little help. 

buy me coffee please, senpais

words: 2.4k

Also a little mature because of alcohol and kissing? lmao can u all guess the songs? it’s only two (I chose those songs because their voices suit Damien soooo much)

You sighed, empty beer bottle in hand as you looked aroundyou. Everyone was drunk. You saw Keith laying on top of Noah on the couch, bothguys in deep slumber. Courtney, Olivia, and Sarah were nowhere to be found, youjust assumed they had taken control over Shayne’s bed right now.

Oh right, the squad was at Shayne’s apartment. They had alittle drinking session, celebrated Shayne’s graduation. Speaking of Shayne,you saw him already fast asleep on the bean bag, empty drinks on the floor andhis Switch console in hand.

You slowly stood up, your head spinning a little and youstopped for a moment, eyes adjusting to the light that came from the kitchen.

You thought about turning the TV off but you scoffed, notwanting to step on Shayne because you knew your balance right now was not atits best.

As soon as you stepped on the kitchen- “Jesus!” You said alittle too loud, hand on your chest as you saw Damien on the floor, completelyhidden by the counters.

He smiled and waved, his cheeks pink and in his hand was abottle of beer.

You groaned, frowned at him but walked towards him. You tooka sit beside him, sliding down on the floor slowly as you cursed your back forhurting a little.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” You rested your head on his shoulder and took thedrink from his hand and chugged down its contents.

You felt the warmth radiating through Damien and you can’thelp but to get emotional. Was it from the alcohol? Might as well blame it ifgiven the chance.

You have liked Damien since the first time he told you hewatches anime. You were smitten, you were pulled towards his radiance that noone can escape.

Damien was the light that managed to blind you.

And now, seated side by side, with your feelings jumbled up.You can’t help but to want to hug him and maybe confess your feelings so theitching in your heart can stop.

He was a dream. Really. He’s a gentleman, loves anime,gaming, a very nice person, and funny. Ever since he became part of the Smoshfam, many people adored him. And you thought to yourself, you were lucky enoughto be his friend, might as well stay as friends than confessing your feelingsand turning into strangers.

Damien may be kind but you don’t know if he was the type ofperson that would avoid you if you confess.

“Y/N,”

“What?” You didn’t realize that you spaced out for a momentbecause Damien was chuckling as he took the bottle away from you.

Another thing that was stopping you from confessing wasbecause you heard something going on between Damien and his friend outsidework.

Of course, who were you to compete against a long-timefriend? One time you have seen Damien with this girl, she was pretty. Longblack hair and thin waist. They were talking animatedly as they walked towardsthe mall—and that pretty much hurt you.

They look so perfect.

“Hey are you okay?” Damien suddenly, his hands on yourcheeks. You realized you were looking at him with tears pooling in your eyes.You felt our insides churn as Damien wiped your tears away.

Your head was slowly spinning but you kept your focus onhim.

“Dames,” You murmured and Damien’s pink cheeks looked likethey were glowing. Maybe because of the alcohol. Yeah, the alcohol.

“I want a drink,”

Damien chuckled, tapping your forehead in the process. “Silly,you’re drunk.”

“No. I can still drink, hell I can even recite the company’smission and vision.”

“Really? Damien raised his brow as he looked down at you,then that’s when you realized your faces were to close. You were resting yourchin on his shoulder as you looked up at him with wide eyes, your noses almosttouching.

You were used to this. The closure. You were known for beingthe clingy, cuddly friend. You always hug your friends or cuddle with them.Whether it was Keith or Courtney, Shayne or Wes. Of course, Damien received themost cuddles from you.

“Damien,”

Your eyes were getting blurry, the spinning in your headintensified as you glanced down at Damien’s lips.

Blame the alcohol.

Your lips landed on his and it was so soft and—his lips werestill, you pulled back only to land a peck on his lips again.

You felt his hand on your cheeks and you wanted to kiss himagain but your eyes failed you as you closed them and drifted to sleep.

~

You groaned, the sunglasses you wore were not doing its jobbecause the sun was still blaring down on you, shaming you from what you havedone last night. After you woke up by 5AM, you found yourself on the couch,Noah and Keith on the floor sleeping soundly and no Damien to be found. Thenyou remembered what you have done and you immediately went home to find thenearest Starbucks.

You threw your empty cup in the trash nearby and sighed.

You have kissed Damien. Your friend.

Now he knew how you felt.

You felt a bile building up your throat but ignored it, theitching in your heart was worse. Maybe this was it, you thought, you hadpracticed what it would be like if you ended your friendship with Damien andthe time has come where your practice won’t go to waste.

Even though you were sobered up, your head still hurts. Andyou’re freaking nervous. It was a Sunday today, and tomorrow you will have togo to work and face Damien.

“Ugh!” You cursed up at the sun, wishing the ground belowwould just swallow you up.

~

The whole afternoon you managed to stay in your cubicle.With some short trips to the bathroom and pantry, you achieved to avoid anySmosh Squad.

It was going all too well when—

“Y/N!”

You squeaked as you looked up from your computer, only tosee Olivia, Courtney and of course Damien. You immediately avoided eye-contactto Damien.

“You startled me, Olivia,”

“Sorry! Just wanted to make sure how you were,”

“Sobered up.” You answered truthfully, eyes now back to thecomputer. You were glad you were wearing your hoodie over so they weren’t ableto see your blushing cheeks.

“You left before we all woke up,” Olivia whined followed byCourtney. “I’m sorry, I was in a hurry,”

“For what?” You just grinned at them. You all chatted for awhile, Damien remained quiet at the side before Courtney said goodbye andwalked away together with Olivia.

Now it was you and Damien.

You sink in your chair as you looked up at Damien.

“Can we talk—”

“I—”

“Y/N, can you come to my office for a while?” One of theproducers asked you, looking up at the file he was holding and gave a smallgreeting to Damien.

“Ah sure…” You gave Damien an apologetic look then left.

Not yet. You can’t handle the rejection yet.

~

It has been three days since you have hanged out with thesquad, and it has been three days since you have seen Damien. The first day wasyou plainly avoiding him and now it seemed that fate was on your side becauseyou haven’t really seen him.

It was a Friday, and the office was buzzing out of peoplewhen Courtney stopped you from leaving your cubicle.

“Hey pretty lady, care to have a night out with us?” She wasgrinning slyly and you rolled your eyes. “What’s in it for me?” You playedalong and Courtney wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “A very good time,”Both of you laughed out loud but you agreed anyway.

Even though you were cautious around Damien, it doesn’t meanyou would stop hanging out with the squad. They are also a friend of yours andyou kind of miss them.

When Courtney said that Olivia and the rest were already atIan’s place, you immediately raised your brow. “We’re not going to a bar?”

“Silly Y/N. Ian has offered free drinks!” She exclaimedexcitedly and you just shook your head, heading to the parking lot and in toCourtney’s car.

~

Three drinks in and the rest of the squad were singing alongthe karaoke Ian has set up in his living room. It was a mess, Shayne wassinging loudly with Olivia and Keith—he was using his CFM voice, Ian was alreadyhalf-drunk and Damien—Damien was on the loveseat, just drinking.

You sighed. When you and Courtney had arrived, you didn’tgreet each other and it honestly killed you. Courtney seemed to have noticedthe atmosphere and asked you what’s up, but being the introvert you were, youjust reasoned out that you were kind of tired.

It was this again. Alcohol.

You guessed since alcohol was involved right now, it wasthe right time for you and Damien to have that talk.

However, being the stubborn you, it was now past midnightand the squad was asleep, all through the night you didn’t get the chance totalk to him.

Courtney and Shayne were on separate bean bags, bothasleep next to each other, the TV still on. Ian was nowhere to be found, youguessed he was in his room. Keith was on the couch, drooling.

It was like déjà vu. Except you weren’t that drunk. You onlyhad three drinks and stopped as soon as you saw Damien drinking alone. Speakingof Damien, you looked at the seat where he was previously in and saw it wasempty.

You sighed.

Maybe he left.

You decided to maybe grab some water from Ian’s kitchen, andthen maybe sleep on the guestroom Ian mentioned to you earlier that that wasvacant.

You slowly stood up and stretch. You sluggishly walkedtowards the kitchen and gasped a little as you saw Damien hunched over thesink.

“Goddamnit Dames, you scared me,” He didn’t answer but youcan see that the tip of his ears was red. You walked up to him and tapped hisshoulders lightly, “Damien?”

“Hm?” He was obviously drunk because when he looked at you,he was sporting a wide smile, cheeks red and eyes squinted together. “Oh hey,Y/N,” He waved but lost his balance. You quickly took hold of his arm andpulled him towards you.

“Dames, how much did ya drink huh?” You got no reply asDamien draped his arm around your shoulder, “We should—sing!” He hiccupped andyou can smell the alcohol off of him. You decided that since you have been abad friend to Damien these past few days, you’ll settle him down on Ian’s spareroom.

“Come on big boy, let’s get you to bed,” You looked at thesink and saw it was clean, meaning Damien didn’t throw up. His hair was wet somaybe he washed his face.

“Whaaat? But we’re singing,” You just shook your head andguided him, thankful that he wasn’t putting all his weight on you. When youreached the spare room, you gently laid him to sit down but he fell on his backcausing you to lose your own balance, and you found yourself in Damien’s arms.

“Y/N,” He called out softly, his eyes closed and youremained still.

“Called her for thefirst time yesterday~” Damien started, even though he’s drunk, he was stillsinging beautifully. “Finally found themissing…. Part of me,” he stopped in the middle but he continued, he hashis other hand in the air, swinging with the song he was singing.

“Felt so close but youwere far away~ Left me without anything to say~~”

With hands on his chest, you pushed yourself up gently untilhis other hand stopped you.

“Y/N,” He called softly.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

Okay, the million-dollar question you weren’t expectingright now.

You were about to answer when Damien released a chuckle.

He released a sighed as he now sang another song, “To be drunk~” Damien started, eyesclosed but he pressed his forehead against yours. “And in love in New York City~” He sang, missing some notes butyou knew that song very well.

“Mmm into morningcoffee,” He murmured but still in tune, “Burning mmhm the hours talking,” he stopped and he opened his eyes.

You both stared at each other.

“Damn…” Hewhispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a sweet, short kiss.

You instantly closed your eyes and savored the kiss.Damien’s lips were as soft as what you remembered and you want to cry.

Damien’s drunk and you shouldn’t—Damien pulled back, a shysmile etched on his lips as he continued to stare at you.

“Please don’t avoid me… I like you,” Your heart fluttered fora moment, fat tears pouring down your eyes as Damien pulled you in closer for ahug.

You stayed there, both of your feet still on the edge of thebed and you were sure it would hurt in the morning but you don’t care.

Damien likes you. And was hurting because of you.

Boy, you two have a lot to talk about tomorrow morning.

~

You heard a groan beside you and you squinted your eyes, themorning light through the window greeted you so harshly that caused you to buryyour face in a strong, warm chest.

“Y/N…” A surprised voice of Damien welcomed you, and youremembered that both of you fell asleep hugging each other. “Hey,” Yougreeted with a smile and Damien was confused. Confused because he woke up withyou in his arms.

“H-how? I’m s-sorry,” He stuttered but you just hugged him.

“No, it’s okay. I-…” You started, Damien visibly relaxing inyour hug.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you, Damien. After that kiss… I… Iwas a coward,”

“No, Y/N,”

“And I like you…”

Silence. You buried your face on his chest and you heard himsigh.

“If only we talked sooner, we would’ve been kissing,” Damiencommented and you laughed, hitting his stomach softly.

Silence covered the both of you before Damien cleared histhroat, “I… I remember singing last night,” You laughed out loud, hugging himtighter. “Yeah, drunk singing. It was adorable,”

Damien grinned, “Would you allow me to sing to you in thefuture?” You felt your cheeks heating up and you just nodded. You felt Damien’slips on your head.

Now, this wasn’t what you practiced for but you ain’tcomplaining.

[faulty-writes]

Warning: Mentions of Gun, [18+ Fem!Reader, mentions of oral sex], No Minors. 

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi (All Might) x Reader

[You’re a secretary at All Might’s Office, though you had seen the hero himself plenty of times. You never thought twice about the possibility of him having a true form and one night at the office, you find out just how much he’s been hiding from you.]  

“You’re a secretary at All Might’s office?” “You’re so lucky!” “Yeah, I bet you get all the eye candy you want.”

You could see how people would be jealous that you worked closely with All Might, but you weren’t a Sir Nighteye. You just answered his calls and organized his files, that was it. But All Might despite his tough exterior was actually a very sweet man and maybe you had gotten lucky when you landed the job to work as his secretary. You especially felt that when he thanked you for all your hard work at the end of the day and on occasion he’d take you out to dinner, merely as another form of thanks.

“Y/n?” you blinked and looked up from your plate, seeing All Might looking at you with a concerned expression. He had asked you to join him for dinner and though he had picked a casual restaurant, you still got eyes staring at you and sometimes it was annoying. But you only agreed to please All Might, after all, you enjoyed seeing others happy. “You seem awfully quiet today, is something wrong?” he questioned, his voice as deep as ever and that signature smile on his face.

You’d never admit how much you loved that smile of his. “Do you not like your food? Please allow me to order you something else if you-” you stopped him and held your hands up. “Oh no! Sorry, it��s delicious. I just had a few things on my mind that’s all …” you heard All Might lean back in his chair and he looked uncertain as he covered his mouth with his hand. You felt a little guilty, did you offend him somehow? You glanced down at your plate before dropping your fork and speaking up.

“All Might um,” you paused, nervously biting your lip before you continued, “I just wanted to say thank you, I’ve really been in your care.” he leaned forward, “Oh no! The pleasure is all mine y/n but well …” he looked to the side, his fingers drumming the table though you were a little nervous he’d break it. Despite having a good handle on his quirk, he could easily break anything in half if he truly wanted to. “Forgive me, this might seem like a strange question y/n but are you truly all right with me taking up so much of your time?” you jumped, feeling your stomach twist with butterflies.

“U-Uh what do you ...mean?” you asked, letting your hands fall to your lap to hide the fact that you were playing with your fingers. “Well, perhaps if you wanted to spend time with someone else. Friends maybe or perhaps go out on a date ...” you looked at him surprised before waving him off. “My friends are a little annoying and I don’t really have anyone I’m looking to date, you don’t have to worry All Might. I ...enjoy spending my time with you.” which was the truth, you expected most heroes to be stuck up, maybe too full on themselves because of fame. But All Might wasn’t like that at all.

You watched All Might’s face relax and he reached over the table, taking your hand. Your heart accelerated at the action and his hands were so much bigger than yours yet so gentle.  “Y/n, I really do appreciate everything you do. Your work is quite acceptable and I want you to know that I am grateful to have you around.” you smiled and once more found yourself thinking about how sweet All Might was. “Thank you, All Might. That means a lot,” you replied though All Might still held your hand for a few moments before letting go.

You shared some conversations before All Might insisted on leaving, it was getting late and you did have work in the morning. So you two left the restaurant and much like a gentleman, he walked you home and wished you a goodnight. You felt a little giddy as you entered your apartment, looking over to your living room where your laptop sat. Most of the time you enjoyed bringing your work home and usually, that involved bringing a stack of files with you which …”Oh God!” you shouted as you suddenly remembered, “I left the recent file on my desk ...damn it.” you looked out the window, it was pitch black outside.

You latched onto your lip, well ...it wasn’t that long of a walk to All Might’s office. Maybe if you hurried you would grab the file, do it in the office and hurry back home. You know it might be foolish, but you enjoyed being on top of your work. But All Might had distracted you with his offer of dinner so you never got to complete your work. “Well …” you groaned as you debated with yourself for a moment before sighing and leaving your apartment. Your feet moved quickly, running down the sidewalk and you were thankful the streetlights illuminated your way but that didn’t stop the fact that your heart was beating out of your chest the time you made it to All Might’s office.

The keys trembled in your hands as you tried to unlock the door and once inside, you leaned against it. Your hands to your chest as you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “Okay, just get the file and get to work.” you took another breath and walked over to your desk, taking your seat. Your file was still open where you had left off and you waited for your computer to boot up before your fingers got to work, flying across your keyboard. As usual, the time seemed to tick away as you sat there, too focused on your computer to notice anything else.

That is until a squeak sounded which made you pause, you blinked and slowly turned your head. Just waiting to see if another noise came and sure enough, another squeak sounded and you jumped up from your chair. Your heart was racing and you quickly reached into your drawer, though it was controversial you kept a gun in your drawer just in case. You were grateful for that now as you confirmed that the noises were definitely someone’s footsteps and you tightened your grip on the gun. Finger over the trigger, ready to shoot at the intruder. It was highly unlikely anyone else but you would be in the office this late.  

You took a deep breath, carefully stepping around your desk and towards the hallway that led to All Might’s office. Those steps continued and you hear someone shuffling something around. Your heart was pounding fiercely at this point and your body trembled, you were afraid but you wouldn’t let anyone cause harm to this office. With that in mind, you hesitantly reached for the handle and opened the door. The room itself was dark, but you could clearly make out the image of someone and they seemed to have been caught off guard by your entrance.

Dropping the item they were holding before their hands shot up in the air. “Hold it right ...t-there!” you hissed as you pointed the gun towards them, they looked skinny and their clothes hung off their body. Their hair was messy and stuck out in two long points that draped over their face. You pressed your lips together and stepped further into the room, the gun trembling in your hands. You took a deep breath, reaching one arm out. Your eyes fixated on the figure as you searched the light switch.

Flicking it on, you were caught off guard when you finally saw their appearance. They looked like a skeleton and their messy hair was blond. They were wearing a baggy white shirt and loose-fitting jeans. Was this guy for real? Well, it didn’t matter, “Who are you!?” you demanded, both hands now back on the gun. They kept quiet and lowered their hands, “Y/n.” you gasped and readjusted your grip on the gun, your finger ready to pull the trigger. “How ….h-how do you know my name!?” you demanded before taking a step forward.

“Answer me!” you shouted and dared to take another step, however, they didn’t seem phased and remained still. You heard them sigh before speaking, “It’s me, All Might.” he said and you almost dropped the gun, your heart sinking in your chest. “W-What?” you replied, feeling as though this had to be some cruel joke. “N-No you’re lying! All Might doesn’t look like-” you watched him roll his eyes before interrupting you. “I was hoping you wouldn’t have to see me like this, y/n. My true form,” he said as he grabbed the front of his baggy shirt.

You lowered the gun, true form? No, it was a trick! “Prove it!” you once more demanded as the gun pointed at the stranger who sighed once more before clenching his fists and smoke started to swirl around him. You gasped and took a step back, was this another trick!? His quirk!? Your finger pressed against the trigger just before they transformed and your jaw dropped. Before you stood a smoking All Might, his muscles flexed and that smile on his face as always. You stepped back, dropping the gun by mistake.

A loud bang sounded and you cried as All Might leaped into action, the bullet embedded itself into the nearby wall. You had clasped your hands over your ears, your eyes squeezed shut as if to protect yourself from the bullet. But when the soft ringing stopped echoing in your ears, you dropped your hands and opened your eyes to find that All Might had you in his arms. You squeaked out and flushed, “Uh …” you swallowed, feeling rather foolish for your own actions. How could you not recognize All Might? True he was in his normal form but still, why couldn’t you tell? Some secretary you were.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, placing your hand on his chest. “Uh A-All Might?” you questioned and jumped when he turned to look at you. “Yes, y/n?” he replied and you glanced down before shyly asking, “C-Can you put me down?” he chuckled but did as you requested. Once on your feet, your glance was to the floor and you mindlessly played with your fingers. “Uh ...All Might ...I um ...I-I’m sorry …” you said as smoke surrounded the Hero once more and he reverted back to his true form.

“Yeah well ...I didn’t exactly want anyone to know …” he said as he reached up to scratch the back of his head and despite feeling nervous, you looked up at him. Now that you got a good look at him, he was kind of cute. Sure he was skinny, but there was still something attractive about him. “Heh,” you chuckled nervously before taking a step towards him. “W-Why didn’t you want anyone to know? I mean ...I get it might be better to hide your identity but people are going to love you no matter what form you take All Might.” at least that’s what you believed, a hero was a hero regardless.

However, All Might didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea and simply shrugged. “Listen y/n,” he began and reached out to grab your hands, just like before his hands while larger than yours were so gentle. Cradling yours like they were made out of glass. “I am sorry you had to find out this way, but what are you doing here? I walked you home hours ago.” you jumped and looked to the side. “Well, I uh ...I wanted to do some work at home but then I realized I ...didn’t have the file I was working on and I came back ...deciding to you know, do it here,” you explained, hoping your explanation would satisfy the hero.

“Hm ...I see,” he replied as he dropped your hands and tapped his chin. “Uh ...a-are you mad?” you asked, “I mean ...I usually bring work home and after such a lovely dinner I …” you trailed off and once more heard him sigh before he looked at you. “You bring work home too, y/n? ...I’ll have to find a way to repay you for your dedication to my office.” you blinked and took a step back, holding your hands up. “Oh no, no, no! That’s not necessary All Might! I’m happy to uh …” you stopped when he grabbed your hand and led you back down the hallway to your desk.

“Uh …” you looked at your desk and then back to All Might who reached over to take your hands once more. “Y/n, forgive me. This may not be the right time to say it, but I …” he paused and took a breath as if summoning some type of courage. “I really like you and I know it may seem as though I am saying this out of nowhere and as a hero I thought it best to keep my feelings to myself. But, I am just so happy to be with you, to be around you.” your eyes widened, All Might ...liked you!?

You could hardly believe it, your jaw dropped. “Uh ...you ...like me?” you repeated and All Might nodded. “I do, y/n and with your permission, I’d like to show you how much I appreciate you.” you felt your legs grow weak, “H-How do you want to show me …” you inquired and watched him smile as he stepped forward, his arms wrapping around your figure. “May I kiss you?” your breath hitched, was this a dream? You pressed your hands against his chest, despite being so skinny just like his hero form you felt safe in his arms.

You looked up, nodding. “Thank you, y/n,” he said before he leaned in and exchanged the lightest touch of your lips. You tasted a faintness of beer, did All Might drink? Well regardless, the kiss while soft and hesitant made you dizzy. He pulled away with a smile and cupped your cheek, “Heh ...wow.” you said before a giggle escaped you. “Come here.” All Might insisted as he walked you over to your chair. He pushed it aside before clearing your desk. Papers pushed aside along with your computer. You looked confused for a moment before allowing All Might to guide you into sitting on top of the desk.

He settled himself between your legs and reached over to cup your cheek once more, “Do you trust me, y/n?” You looked at him dazed, though you were nervous as to what he had planned you nodded. “Good,” he said before leaning forward, exchanging another butterfly kiss before his hands roamed up your thighs. You shivered the sensation and when he grabbed onto your waistband, your breath hitched. “Ah …” you squeaked out as you leaned back, allowing All Might to pull your pants down.

You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed legs, causing goosebumps which All Might soothed over with his hands. “Are you cold, y/n?” you nodded and he chuckled. “No need to worry, I will fix that.” you shivered at his words and covered your mouth when he pulled you forward and spread your legs. You could feel your clit lightly throb as he reached down and ran two fingers along your slit. The fabric of your underwear dipping into your moist folds and you gasped as his thumb circled your clit causing you to squirm.

“Yes, I’ll show you how much I appreciate you y/n. My perfect secretary, I know the work I give you is not easy. However, I hope this will show you just how much you mean to me.” with that, he pulled your underwear to the side. “You’re already wet?” he questioned as his fingers ran along your slit, collecting all your juice. “Uh I …” you weren’t sure what to say, All Might did stir some mature feelings inside you. Did you secretly lust for the hero? Probably. “Too shy to talk, that’s okay. Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” he promised before he leaned close and clasped his lips around your clit.

You cried out as his tongue probed the sensitive nub and he softly sucked on it, “All Might …” you weakly whined before he pulled away, his tongue now working up and down your slit. He brought his fingers up, parting your folds further so he could dip his tongue inside which made you cry out once more. “Jesus …” you panted, trembling on top of your desk. Was this really happening? You were in your office, on your desk with All Might between your legs. He wiggled his tongue inside, pushing it as far as it could go before pulling back.

You could feel his saliva dribble down your pussy but he kept at it, lapping like a hungry animal. “Mm.” he groaned and leaned away, bringing his fingers to his lips where he sucked on them a moment. “You taste good y/n, are you enjoying yourself?” he questioned and you nodded, despite your flushed face and your dazed eyes. “Ah!” you cried out when you felt him push those fingers inside, two digits wiggled inside your tight walls and you whimpered. Your hips rocking against those fingers and All Might chuckled before getting back to work.

He circled his tongue around your clit, his fingers thrusting inside you. Coated in your juice that continued to dribble down your pussy lips. “All Might! It feels so good!” you whimpered and he continued, his mouth working violently around your clit. Sucking, biting and lapping at it. “Mm!” you hissed, latching onto your bottom lip as your stomach tightened. Your hips were thrusting like mad, but All Might kept up with your motions. He kissed your clit teasingly before squeezing a third finger inside your tight hole.

You whimpered at the sensation of feeling so full and he wiggled those digits inside you. “Shit …” you moaned, “Feels good huh?” All Might replied as his mouth went back to work, your cries continuing as you squirmed on top of your desk. “All Might ...I ...I think I’m going to …” he chuckled, “Go ahead, come for me.” he insisted as he worked his fingers faster, his hand now dripped with your juices as he pushed his fingers as deep as they could go. “Fuck! All Might, yes, yes! Wreck my pussy …” you begged, feeling so close.

He accommodated your wishes and continued, your cries echoed through the empty office and you leaned up. Your hands fisted through his hair as you neared the edge, releasing without warning. “Ah …” you panted, feeling sweaty but utterly relaxed before you laid back on the desk. A satisfied smile on your face. “T-That ...was great,” you whispered as you released his hair and All Might leaned back up, his mouth was wet with your release and his shirt was soaked. You looked up, blinking. “Oh a-ah ...sorry,” you said, feeling a tad guilty for having gotten too carried away.

He chuckled and wiped his mouth off. “You don’t have to be sorry, I’m happy you feel so relaxed.” he smiled as he leaned over you, gently stroking your hair. “I’m very happy I chose you to be the secretary to my office.” you smiled and leaned up to wrap your arms around him. “I promise I’ll keep your secret safe.” you’d do anything to protect All Might, not that he needed much protection, to begin with. But he seemed sensitive about his true form and you wouldn’t betray him. He smiled and returned your hug. “Thank you, y/n,” he said, knowing that he’d never let you go.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Ghost Jungkook Reaction| You bump into him and can now see him pt. 3

pt.1  pt. 2   final

The next morning you wake up and Jungkook isn’t next to you. You sit up, calling out his name.

“Jungkook? Are you here?” He phases through the wall and laughs at you.

“I mean where else would I be? I can’t leave you know.” 

“Oh...sorry I forgot.” 

“It’s alright you don’t need to apologize. I’m used to it by now. And having you here helps anyway.” He offers you a small smile and you smile back. “So any big plans for today?”

“Well I was going to go get a coffee and then I was thinking maybe we could try and figure out where your friends are.” His eyes widen slightly.

“You were serious yesterday?”

“Of course I was. I would do anything to make you happy don’t you know that?” His grin only grows wider.

“Ah, you’re too sweet to me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you in my life. Or, well my after life? I don’t know this whole thing still confuses me.”

“It’s alright. We’ll figure it out together.” You hold your hand out and Jungkook takes yours, allowing his hand to be solid for a few moments so he can feel your warmth on his skin. 

“Alright, go get your coffee. I know how you get when you don’t have some caffeine to wake you up.” You chuckle at that and reluctantly let go of his hand and walk out the door. You’re heading into the cafe when someone bumps right into you, spilling their tea on your shirt.

“Oh my god I am so sorry!” 

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it. This is an old shirt and I’m still kind of in my pajamas so I don’t really care if it’s ruined.” 

“But now your going to get cold because your shirt is wet.” 

“It's okay. Really, I promise it’s fine. You seem like a really nice person I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” 

“Can I at least buy you your drink as an apology?” 

“Sure. That’s fine.” You both walk into the cafe together. You order your favorite drink as the man orders himself another tea. You turn to thank him for his kindness. 

“Thank you for the drink.”

“No problem it’s the least I could do. I’m Hoseok by the way.” He holds his hand out to shake yours.

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.”  You place your hand in his. It doesn’t even register that this is Jungkook’s Hoseok until all the color drains from his face when he eyes your bracelet.

“Where did you get that?” His grip tightens on your hand, it’s almost bruising and the cheerful smile on his face is gone. 

“U-um. I-”

“I said where the hell did you get that?!”

“Wait, you're Hoseok.”

“I am. And you have 5 seconds to answer me before I-” 

“You’re Jungkook’s friend. Right?” He drops your hand as if it burns him.

“How the hell do you know that? Did you steal that from somewhere? Are you stalking me?”

“Jungkook gave it to me.” 

“Bullshit. Stop lying this is really fucked up. Who the hell are you?”

“I’m y/n.. Jungkook’s... roommate I guess?”

“Stop talking about him like he’s still here he’s dead!” He’s shouting at you now and everyone in the cafe is staring at the two of you.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else and talk?”

“Not until you tell me truth.”

“I just did!” 

“You’re fucking crazy.” You see tears forming in his eyes as he turns on his heels and runs out of the cafe. You don’t hesitate to chase after him. 

“You’re Jung Hoseok! You majored in dance with Jungkook and Jimin! You all have these matching bracelets with you initials on them. Taehyung and Jimin made them for you all.” He stops in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. You see his shoulders shaking and can hear quiet sobs escaping from him.

“How do you know all that? Who.. what..” He turns around and faces you and you see the saddened look on his face.

“It’s a long story. Can we talk maybe?” He hesitates for a moment but nods. You spot a bench a ways up the sidewalk and motion for him to follow you. You both sit down, drinks in hand but remaining full. 

“I was telling you the truth you know? Jungkook.. Listen I don’t exactly know how all of this happened but one day I came home drunk and bumped into him and suddenly I could see him. I thought the place was haunted and I almost left, but he begged me to stay with him. Apparently after people touch him they can see him and every other tenant left his apartment because they were afraid of it being haunted.”

“He's been alone all this time? Oh god..” His voice cracks as fresh tears spring from his eyes. 

“Hey it’s not your fault. If it makes you feel any better I’ve been with him for a few months and I have no intention of leaving. He’s actually really sweet. He makes me breakfast sometimes and always has my pajamas on my bed for me when I get home. And he’s hilarious. And his cute bunny smile is adorable the way is eyes sparkle.. Oh sorry I’m rambling.” Hoseok chuckles. 

“That sounds like Jungkook alright.. You seem quite fond of him.”

“He kind of has a way of working his way into your heart you know?” 

“Oh trust me. I know. He was the baby of our group we used to spoil him rotten.” You giggle at that. “So you know then? What happened?”

“I do.. he’s really worried about Jimin. How is he?”

“He’s um... managing in his own way I guess.”

“Is he overworking himself? Jungkook wanted me to make sure he was still eating and getting plenty of rest and not throwing himself into his dance like he does when he’s upset about something.”

“Ah, it’s the exact opposite actually. He refuses to dance at all anymore. He says it’s the reason his best friend was taken from him and he can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s so sad.. Do you think getting to see him again would help?”

“I think having Jungkook knock some sense into him would definitely be helpful. He always seemed to be able to get through to him.”

“And what about you?”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to see him?”

“Can I really?”

“I think so. I think you just have to touch where he is standing and then you should be able to. That’s how it worked for me. The first day we met was actually..” You laugh at the memory. “It was funny. I thought he was a hallucination and told him to leave me alone but he kept talking nonstop until I would acknowledge him.” Hoseok bursts out laughing at that. 

“That definitely sounds like our bratty maknae... I would love to see him. I think maybe I should just come first. Not that I don’t believe you, but the others are going to be harder to convince than me and I think if the both of us talk to them they’ll be more willing to listen.” 

“Okay. You wanna go now?” 

“Please.” You stand up and begin walking to the apartment. Along the way Hoseok shares memories and funny stories he has with Jungkook and you find yourself becoming even more fond of him. He was such a sweet person and loved by so many and he truly loved his friends more than anything. As you approach the apartment door Hoseok freezes.

“You okay?”

“Yeah it’s just.. I haven't seen or heard him in so long this just feels like a dream. I keep thinking I am going to wake up.” You squeeze his hand encouragingly. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Whenever you’re ready.” Hoseok takes a deep breath and nods. You open the door and Hoseok stands off to the side to collect his thoughts. Immediately you are granted by the sight of a flustered Jungkook pacing around the apartment. 

“Y/n! Thank God you were gone for so long! I was so fucking worried I thought something happened to you.” 

“I’m sorry Jungkook! I didn’t mean to make you worry but I have a good reason for being late.”

“You sure as hell better. I almost had a heart attack and died again because of you.” You laugh and look out into the hallway.

“Are you ready?” Hoseok nods and steps into view.

“H-Hobi hyung?” Jungkook collapses onto the ground and stares at him in shock.

“Jungkook? Is he here?”

“He is he’s just a little overwhelmed I think.” You bend over to where he is sitting.

“Y/n.. how did you-?”

“He bumped into me at the coffee shop and saw your bracelet.”

“Jungkookie? Is it okay if I..?” Jungkook nods frantically. 

“He says it’s okay. Give me your hand.” You grab onto Hoseok and lead him so his fingers brush against Jungkook’s outstretched hand. You can tell the exact moment Hoseok is able to see him as he bursts into tears. They both sit there crying and you badly wish you could comfort them both but you don’t want to intrude.

“Kookie I can’t believe this. I can actually see you. I kind of thought y/n was crazy.”

“Hey!” Jungkook and Hoseok both laugh at your offended expression.

“It’s good to see you again hyung. How are you?”

“I’m managing. How are you?” Jungkook’s voice lowers a few octaves so you don’t hear what he says. 

“Much better now that y/n is here and is staying with me. She’s wonderful hyung.” Hoseok smiles at that. 

“She seems very sweet.” 

“How are the others? How is Jimin?” Both of your expressions fall. 

“What? Did something happen to him is he okay? Did he over work himself again? I swear I will bust out of this apartment-”

“No no Jungkook that’s not it. He kind of well.. stopped dancing. He said it reminds him too much of you and what happened and he blames dancing for your death. He said if he wouldn’t have made you stay late at practice with him this never would have happened.”

“So he blames himself? But Hobi it wasn’t his fault.”

“I know that, Kookie. We all do except for him.”

“I have to see him. And all of them. I need them to know that I am okay and I need them all to know what happened to me wasn’t their fault and I don’t blame any of them one bit. Especially not Jimin.” 

“Okay. I think it might take me a little bit to convince them. Y/n offered to help with that though too.” Jungkook looks at you and his gaze softens. 

“Y/n.. you’ve seriously done so much for me already just by bringing Hoseok here you don’t have to go to bring the others if you don’t want to. I know some of them aren’t going to be as warm to the idea and might say hurtful things to you if they think you’re lying.”

“That’s why I’ll be with her too. Coming from a complete stranger yeah, it does seem kind of crazy but if both of us go I think they’ll believe us.” Jungkook stands up abruptly. 

“Y/n can you get me a pen and paper please?” You open the desk drawer and grab the objects. Jungkook begins scribbling something on the paper before he phases back out and the pen and paper fall to the floor. You grab the note and read it. 

Hyungs please believe y/n and Hobi. They are telling the truth they aren’t crazy and I really need to see you all. -Kookie.  There’s a drawing of a bunny with a thick eyebrow next to his name and you can’t help but think it’s cute.

“Who’s this little guy?”

“Oh.. that’s Kooky. I kind of always drew this pink bunny because everyone always said my smile reminded them of one.” 

“That’s adorable! I’d pinch your cheek right now if I could.”

“For once I am glad that you can’t touch me all the time.”  You giggle at that as does he. Hoseok loudly clears his throat, as if to remind you both he’s still here. 

“Sorry hyung.” 

“Don’t apologize to me. I’m just glad to see you're happy.” 

“So when do you want to go see the others?”

“Well, I think everyone is busy today. Tomorrow is Saturday so they all have off. No classes or work. I’ll text everyone and ask them to meet me at my apartment tomorrow. I’ll give you the address so you can come too. Say around noon?”

“That works for me.” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow y/n. And hopefully you too Jungkook.” 

“Yep. I’ll be here.” Hoseok waves and walks to the front door, he looks over his shoulder one more time and smiles at Jungkook before he opens the door and walks out.  Jungkook lets out a breath he wasn't aware he’d been holding. 

“You okay, Kookie?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Just... wow I wasn’t expecting that at all. I didn’t think you’d find him so quick.”

“I didn’t either. Kind of seems like the universe is working in your favor for once right?”

“I think it always has been. Everything happens for a reason. If I wouldn’t have died I probably never would have met you.” 

“I just wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

“Me too, jagi.” The endearing petname just slips out and Jungkook immediately looks away shyly. You smile at him and walk toward the couch, sitting down and patting the space next to you.

“What do you want to watch?”

“Can we watch Your Name? It’s one of my favorites.”

“Really?! Me too I adore that movie so much. I actually have the blu ray. I’d love to watch it with you.” You two spend the rest of the day watching Jungkook’s favorite movies and you find that you both actually have very similar tastes. You’re halfway into the 3rd Studio Ghibli movie of the night when your head lulls over and you fall asleep. Jungkook smiles fondly at you, getting up to your bedroom and grabbing your blanket to throw over top of you. He allows himself the indulgence of running his fingers through your hair to brush it out of your face. He can’t help himself from leaning down and kissing your forehead tenderly. He loves the warm feeling of your skin against his lips. He wonders what it would feel like to actually kiss you but he banishes the thought immediately. After Saturday if everything goes well he might not even be here anymore. He might finally be able to move on and rest in peace. But would he really be at peace? He asks himself this question, if he’s ready to give up seeing you. And he honestly doesn’t know the answer. 

[xavierplym]

Could you maybe write a piece about the Reader and Xavier? She got kicked out of her parents house (like Michael left barefoot only with his jeans jacket except she got to grab her shoes but no jacket) and wanders through the city. Freezing. Xavier sees her and offers her to spend the night on his couch. When they get to his appartement she takes a warming shower. The Reader showers a bit too long in his opinion so he decides to check on her. It kinda ends with smut..

Sorry this took too long and probably not what you wanted but I got soft

Word count; again I don’t know whoops

I love him 🥺

See u all in a few days x

was listening to ‘hearts don’t break around here’ - Ed Sheeran while writing the soft part and you could probably tell damn

She exhales shakily – hugging her arms, trying to gather any thoughts she has in search to find an answer on what her next move will be.

Rubbing back the tears in her eyes, she sighs again into her hands. Why now? Out of all the times, it’s now her mother gives her ‘the boot’ out of the house.

Shaking her head, finding her composure, she leans off the wall of her local and rolls her eyes to herself. I need a drink, she plainly thinks.

Resting on a bar stool, she rests her elbows onto the bar. Face finding her hands again she grumbles nonsense into them; feeling completely upset, confused and just simply pissed off.

“Rough day?” She peaks through her fingers to stare at the man who’s polishing a glass with an amused eye. She huffs a laugh, hands slumping to the wood as she straighten her shoulders, “you have no idea.”

He raises a brow in question, smirk growing as he places the glass in it’s home before resting her elbows on the bar in front of her and face in his hands, “Oh no, did your dream boy not call you back?” Smirking growing so it raises his cheeks.

As much as his humour would tickle her usually, today isn’t one of them. Her eyes remain emotionless as she chews the inside of her cheek, eyes drifting to the side to daze off to, she shakes her head slightly to shove off her comment.

“Now’s definitely not the time, Xavier.” Her plain voice causes him to straighten his posture, head tilting as his expression puzzles, thinking about any sort of reason as to why the girl in front of him is so troubled.

His lips pout to speak but the sound of her sighing into her hands, grumbling once again, stops him. “What’s happened?” He speaks bluntly, reaching behind him to grab a short glass and place in front of her silently. She groans into her hands at his questions – not wanting to answer. But subconsciously knows the venting would help any thoughts she may have, but not wanting to meet his gaze she speaks into her hands.

“Give me a drink and maybe I’ll think about it–“ she finishes her sentence quickly as she finally finds the courage to look up to him with sad eyes, shocked to already see the bottle of jack in his hand while giving her a knowing smile.

Time goes by and his expression shifts from confused to sadden as the girl vents her feelings in front of him. The bottle of jack going down slowly, partly from himself – but mostly her, but with her mental state the alcohol takes no effect.

Her storytelling gets cut short by the ear ringing sound of girls squealing when ‘girls just want to have fun’ begins to play. Staring blankly to him, she raises her brows in fake amusement as she knocks back the rest of her glass and follows the sound of giggling girls dancing by the jukebox.

Her brows furrow slightly as she watches them dance together; simply having fun and not having a single worry at this moment. She’d hate to admit she’s envious but she can’t help but feel that way and with her attention away she doesn’t notice the worry in Xavier’s face as he takes in her features. Fully taking in the states she’s now in after understanding. He huffs while rubbing the back of his neck, slightly regretting the tone he spoke to her in during the beginning of their conversation. Having a thought while chewing on his bottom lip, he tilts his head to her view, making her eyes turn to him. “Where are you staying tonight, babe?” She gives him a saddened smile while shrugging.

Features becoming annoyed, he crosses his brows, “what do you mean?” He mocks her shrugging in question.

Leaving back in her stall she shrugs again, “I got no where to go, haven’t exactly had the time to sort that out.” She mutters as she crosses her arms on the bar as avoids his stare. He softly smile and shakes his head at her stubbornness for needing to ask for help.

“I have a couch.” He lightly taps her arm as he turns to serve one of the many customers he’s served tonight as she’s rambled. While pouring the stranger asked for, he looks back to her for an answer statement in hope she’d take his silent offer.

She still avoids his gaze but he can feel the clogs in her brain turn in thought as she thinks of the pros and cons of the offer – but in all honesty, where else was she going to go?

He shakes off the laugh as he hands the customer their drink and accepts the cash they give him. Once closing the register, he turns back to her, curious as to why there was no response to his hidden question. Not being able to help the amusement grow on his face he walks back over to her deep in thought figure. Resting his cheek in his hand metres from her, his smile grows a little wider as her face twists in ways to find an excuse not to. Chuckling to himself, he lightly grabs hold of her wrist to bring her attention to him – his whole face softens when her eyes meet him, “stay on my couch and figure out your next move tomorrow. I couldn’t live with myself if I left you knowing you had no where else to go.” Her lips press into a line while her eyes mirror his soft feature. Giving in with a big sigh and an eyeroll, she finally nods her head. Feeling satisfied he couldn’t help but ruffle her hair lightly while giving her a friendly wink as he makes his way to the other end of the bar to another customer.

-

“M’lady…” he stretches a welcoming hand to the opening door of his small apartment as a friendly smile lifts his cheeks as he stares down to the sheepish grin she can’t help having at the cheesy gesture. She tighten the brightly coloured jacket Xavier tossed over shoulders moments after leaving the bar closer to her before stepping inside.

The smell of weed and scented candles filled her senses – she wasn’t surprised, but an entertained smile found it’s way to her lips. Taking in her surroundings she watches him walk across the small open plan space and throw his worn down bag on corner chair that stood snugly by the window looking out into the city. Pushing the jacket off her shoulders she continues to watch him sigh contently as he makes his way to his fridge as he pulls out two beers, waving one in her direction, a small nod in approval coming from herself as she neatly folds the jacket over the back of his couch – which she gathered was her bed for the night.

The warmest smile placed upon his features, he nods his head into the direction to the door beside her.

“Bathroom’s there if you want a shower – I can grab some clothes for you to wear for the night.” His voice is soft, relaxed compared to how he sounds at the bar setting she usually sees him in and it makes her shoulders sink in relaxation, “Think I might do that, yknow.” She gives the best smile she can give as she back herself to the door, never breaking the smiling gaze they’re giving each other. Twisting the cap of the bottle, he nods again, “towels are on the rack – I’m sure you can gather what’s shampoo and stuff, right?” His sass gets the first laugh of the night from her, causing an eye squinting grin from himself. Eyes rolling and twisting the door handle, she leans against the door frame. “I’m sure I’ll manage.” The mirrored sass causes his bottom lip to catch between his teeth with a shrug and hands raising in surrender.

-

Her head bows with grace as the hot water rushes over her hair, falling down her face and body as she relaxes to the heat. Combing the left over bubbles in her hair – she slicks her hair back before slowly rubbing hands over her face, letting the hot steam and water clear her pours. Hugging herself and thoughts dazing here she only stands with the shower pouring over her, not bothered about moving. Thoughts taking over all senses, she doesn’t hear the door creak open to a listening ear – nothing creepy, just a worry thought on making sure she’s okay.

He thinks awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot as he sees her silhouette behind the shower curtain. The sound of water running and the thought of her skin warm and glistening makes his head shake and take a deep breath before clearing his throat before speaking, “I– uh, are you good?” His worried voice snapping her head back to reality and thoughts mixing.

“Yeah, I’m good! I’m good. I’ll be out in a second.” Her shaken voice makes his lips straighten as he sets the folded clothes to his chest down onto the counter without a word before closing the door.

-

Creeping out from the bathroom door; she emerges with a shirt miles too big for her that hangs to her mid thigh. His head turns to the creaking door, soft smile lifting his cheeks as he sees her come to view, “sorry I couldn’t find any pants, the ones I–“

“It’s fine. Honestly.” Her voice is soft as she sits on the small couch next to him, slightly hunched so nothing too explicit is seen. His smile growing softer and pulse deepening for the look the girl beside himself is glancing him with; he just wants to reach out and tuck the wet strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear and hold her cheek. But without even realising, his thoughts had acted without even realising – his palm feeling the heat rising in her cheek, eyes slightly wide, he’s quick to pull away and stumble on his words and look away. Muttering apologies and scratching the back of his neck, he’s desperately trying to find a way to make an excuse to his sudden act of affection but his thoughts are cut short by the sudden touch of contact of her body leaning against his with a tight hug. Her naked thigh touching his as her arms reach over to wrap around his waist as her face is buried into his chest. His arms are spread by the slight surprise but the sound of her context sigh causes him to relax with another soft smile forming on his lips as his hands find its way to her hair; scratching her scalp lovingly. Humming peacefully, she mutters a faint ‘thank you’ against his chest, resting her chin to look up at him. He looks down slightly dumbfound, surprised by the feeling he feels in his chest. But alas, with his actions playing before his thoughts, his head leans down to place a soft touch of his lips against hers. Pulling away, the pink of his cheeks show in the dim light of his apartment causing a small smile light her eyes for the first time tonight. He reflects her features before pulling her face to his shoulder, hand running down her back her own hand runs down his chest as she brushes her lips gently to his jaw. Not being able to help himself, he’s quick to find her mouth. Cupping her cheek and other finding her waist, she makes a noise of surprise but finds herself gripping onto the simple white vest he wears for comfort. 

-

Before they knew it, the apartment was filled with faint breaths and quiet moans as he places loving kisses over her. Caressing hands and comforting touches as they spread over his bed in the early hours of the morning.

He grips his hands tighter to her his as she rocks above him, her hand gripping his hair while the other is finding something to hold. Her body crumbling slightly as she felt his fingers interlock with her own as he watches her come undone above him – making his brows furrow as he couldn’t help himself, hands wrapping around her lower and upper back, he pulls her to his chest, listening to her whimpering cries of love and ecstasy filling his ears as he fills her.

She lays atop of him, a finger making patterns on his chest, he sighs contently, not being able to help the smile grow wider as the wondering finger travels up for her hand to cup his neck comfortably. Exhaling a soft laugh, he kisses the top of her head before wrapping his arms tighter around her, humming into her scalp.

“I’m here.”

//

tags; @sojournmichael @leatherduncan @littlegirlsdontplaynice @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @duncansshephard @melodylangdon @xaviersghost @angxlbaby666 @hecohansen31 @antichristfern @xavier-plymptons

(my mind has gone blank as i’ve never done tags before im so soz)

[gguktarts]

decathect | jjk (2)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au || angst || little fluff if u Squint || drabble series word count: 2.2k parts:  « previous | 2 / ? | next » cw: kinda unhealthy depictions of a crush, & jk is a fuckboy w lots of tatts and long hair. note: well,, i don’t like this one bUT here yall go!!! breaky breaky eggs and heart bakey ey :’)

Being late to class was the first of the signs, you should have known. It didn’t impact your grade in any way, but the reason behind it certainly stirred about some changes.

While Jungkook still remains a part of some of your days, lately it’s a less common occurrence. You figure maybe it’s his doing, that your face must have given you away that day, that he must have figured something out and that whatever he knows doesn’t sit well with him, but deep down you know it’s your fault.

It’s not that he’s avoiding you, but that you’re avoiding him–as well as the images that still haunt your memory. So, whenever you see him in the halls you turn and walk away just a tiny bit faster, and when you guys speak, you only voice out what’s necessary. It’s gotten to the point where you worry over him thinking you’re mad at him, when in fact you are not. You’re not upset that he kissed someone, how could you be? Jungkook is more of a stranger than he is a friend to you, and he owes you nothing. And it doesn’t matter that the constant reminder makes your heart drop all the way to your feet, nor that despite everything your stomach still battles the fluttering butterflies his smile cultivates and nurses. It’s actually that last part that annoys you out of all, the one that triggered your flight response.

Even now, sharing your favorite takeout at Tae’s, it’s clear you’re more closed off with him than usual – even when the subject is as ridiculous as VHS porn. Actual, physical VHS porn, all property of Taehyung. He apparently went on a shopping spree early in the morning, which explains the two thick tapes inches from his plate. They’re keeping the lot of you some extra company.

“I just can’t believe you bought more, honestly. And with real money,” you mutter in disbelief, amusement painting your tone. The fact that Tae not only owns (and buys) them but also keeps them in pristine condition is not something you understand. He doesn’t even have a VHS player. "You know the internet exists, right, babe? And with better quality.”

A look at the colorful cases makes you visibly cringe. There’s far too many freed titties and schoolgirl skirts for your liking. “They’re probably as bad as the old ones aren’t they…”

Tae’s eyes widen with a hint of betrayal; his chopsticks pointing at you in accusation. “They’re HISTORIC, ok? Like beanie babies... And they only cost 3 dollars each—”

"How would you know if hyung’s tapes are bad or not?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts, doing nothing but throwing you under the bus with the teasing question.

You blink, for a hot second forgetting you haven’t told Taehyung about that specific day a few months back. He was gone all day doing who knows what, while Namjoon and yourself, under the tight reign of curiosity and the profound liberty of a free evening, went over the most ridiculous titles he owns. It’s the sudden look of suspicion he gives you what brings back the fact to surface. Right. You’re the one with the VHS player. He knows that. 

From your peripheral Jungkook’s inquisitive gaze pierces your skin, distracting you from the way Namjoon’s posture straightens with the reminder. He hasn’t said a single word to stop you, though, so you take that as a sign.

“Joon and I watched them,” you confess quickly, slurping on some stir-fry noodles with a small, apologetic smile playing on your lips. “And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, but Tae, they’re terrible. Except maybe… Eaten by the Big Bad Wolf, I guess.”

The name makes Jungkook break out in giggles, a sound so cute you have to press your lips together just to not grin along with him. Whining, Taehyung swats the younger’s arm before whipping his head to look between Joon and you, more pouty than angry.

“First of,” he begins, “Eaten by 2BW IS good. You guys are just uncultured about the rest. But more importantly, you two? Both?” 

None of you deny it. Joon simply grins apologetically and shrugs, far too busy gulping down his meat to do more than that— he knows Tae won’t do anything to him, he’s too valuable a roommate. Instead, you hear Jungkook voice out a tiny surprised “huh” before any words leave him. 

“I didn’t take you for the type to watch porn, Y/N.”

You still mid bite, eyebrow raised as you’re forced to glance his way. “Because I’m a girl?”

“No, it’s just… you don’t strike me as a sexual one, I guess?”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t say it to hurt you, you know that. It’s not like his phrasing should hurt you either, but somehow, it still does. It’s easy for you to skip past all you should be thankful for—that he doesn’t sexualize you, that he doesn’t consider you an option for the fuck-and-go experiences he tends to have, and that maybe, just maybe, therefore you’re not seen as disposable. All of those, while in ways reassuring, are drowned out by a single underlying fact: in a world where Jungkook knows not love but lust, where his touch is reserved for only the bright who catch his eye, you’re but a white dwarf to his starry gaze, all but faded and extinguished. Nearly a dead star, you’re empty of whatever he searches for, of whatever he wants, and so what little he gives you are never meant to get.

The thought rings around your eardrums enough seconds for your smile to drop and your teeth to clench, but you’re quick to put on a mask of vague confusion and annoyance. Even your tone comes out dry.

“Jee, thanks? I’m flattered I can contain my hormones in check.”

“It’s because you’re never here when she’s ovulating–she gets hornly as hell,” Tae counters just when the youngest opens his mouth, eyes on him before they settle on you. His gaze goes soft, as if asking if you’re okay in between the jabs, speaking the words he isn’t. But you’re too busy almost choking, heat spreading from your ears and along your cheeks, to notice it. The thought that he spoke to shut Jungkook up not crossing your mind. “I don’t really understand why you never do anything about it, love. Could literally be getting love-fucked right about now.”

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” you squeak, embarrassment threatening to consume you, but thankful nonetheless it’s a type of distraction. You don’t see Jungkook blink in confusion, nor his repeated whisper of Tae’s new word. You focus on the way Namjoon pinches Tae’s arm. It earns him a glare and a yelp.

“Leave her alone, man,” Joon chides, making you smile again without entirely understanding the look they briefly share. 

“What? She knows I love her,” Tae says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He’s always quick to butter you up with it. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Yes. But if we could just shift the topic to something besides my non-existent love life I’d love that even more." 

"What?” Joon opens his mouth after a blink, suddenly intrigued because as far as he’s concerned, you were practically dating last you spoke to him about that. Only, you weren’t–aren’t, and even if he is on your side in this conversation, he’s too big of an information hoarder (read: gossip) to let it go from the get go. “But I thought the date with Jaebum went okay?”

You give him a look. “Date? We were studying for our midterms, like I told you.”

“Oh, I thought– but he looks so interested in you…”

Taehyung nods along, “Yea, whenever he sees me he asks about you.”

“Wait, are we talking about Jackson-hyung’s friend?” Jungkook asks, tone mildly curious. You drown the words out, but his voice still makes your throat close up for a few seconds longer.

“Yup,” Namjoon confirms, “You know him?" 

"Never actually talked to him, but Yugyeom hangs with him from time to time. Seems nice enough,” Jungkook shrugs, turning to you with a soft, encouraging smile. “I don’t know if he likes you but if you’re interested I could ask–”

“I’m not,” you snap, jaw clenching. Your fingers stiffly hold onto the chopsticks, a flimsy attempt at ignoring the way your bones hold your heart before it slips and falls. And it does fall, because you can already feel the sickening feeling pooling and spreading from your stomach and along your limbs. You notice it so quickly that you remind yourself, like a mantra, that this is ridiculous, that you shouldn’t even be feeling this way. Yes, he doesn’t like you. You knew that already, Y/N. Going from point A to point B, it’s logical he doesn’t care if you date anyone, that he encourages it as long as you’re into it. But you don’t want his kindness.

Hurt flashes over Jungkook’s gaze as you stare him down, but it’s gone so quickly you’re unsure if it was there in the first place. Still, the thought you might have caused it doesn’t sit well with you. It quickly forms a lump in your throat, making you swallow before softening your features.

“I’m– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like an ass,” your voice comes out a whisper, and you turn back to your plate. Jungkook’s own “it’s okay,” is too soft your ears. You know you have to behave normally, quickly. So you press your lips together and offer them a dramatic sigh to at least begin to sound believable. 

“I’d just rather none of you did anything. I already know he likes me, he’s asked me out before,” you confess, voice somehow unwavering. It gives the push you need to put on a mask of indifference as you look head on, not at Jungkook but at Joon. He looks surprised, but remains quiet. “And no, I didn’t accept. He is nice, but I–I don’t like anyone like that at the moment.”

It takes effort to finish the lie, to hide the sting in front of them–in front of him– but you have more than one tell. And Taehyung knows each and every one very well. The soft rebuke, the intensified interest in your noodles as the lie flowed through your lips. Tae knows you, sometimes better than you know yourself, and he knows he has to do what he does best: he shifts the tone. 

“That’s okay. You’re too good for him anyways. But none of that matters because I just remembered something I find absurdly unforgivable,” Taehyung says, face going completely serious. His eyes are fixed on you with such intensity you wonder if he’s about to tell you the secrets of the universe, or his mom’s secret strawberry cheesecake recipe, which seems less likely. Instead he lets out the shrillest whine, “you did not tell me you love me back. Now explain to me, how am I supposed to continue on? What will inspire me now, huh?”

And just like that, the tense air begins to clear out.

“Eh, you’ll live,” you joke, physically unable to push back the tiny smile lighting up your face at his antics.

“Not like you’ve painted anything in ages, anyway,” Namjoon adds, teasing. 

“Well, if I had any of my own paint,” Tae mutters, giving Jungkook a pointed look, “maybe I’d find some inspiration.”

Jungkook scoffed, “I have two tubes total, not your entirely collection, hyung.”

“Yes, but you have my favorite ones! Amethyst Shards and Indigo Fields are so hard to find, too…”

“I’m almost done with them anyways, just pass by tomorrow and pick them up,” Jungkook snickers, eyes crinkling at the other’s pout.

“Fine, but show me what you’re working on.”

Taking the moment to drift away, you grab the already empty plates and take them to the kitchen. It’s Namjoon’s turn to wash the dishes so you leave them be, and return to both of your boys huddled around Jungkook’s extended hand, phone on display. 

You don’t know what you expected to see, but it’s definitely not the portrait of the girl he was kissing the other day. She’s laying on her side, naked on a bed of violets, and you can’t deny she’s beautiful. Your heart sinks further than before as you take in the level of detail he poured into his work, into her. The way her hair falls over her arms and tangles with the leafs underneath, the way a form of innocence is reflected on her eyes. They’re elements you see only because he sees them. Did she change his mind about relationships? Does he like her, just the way you like him? You don’t know– you don’t know anything at all. 

You feel like puking your insides out. And you’re aware you’re at the end of the rope for the day, that the thin line is about to break, and that you can’t hold back the water pooling behind your eyes for much longer. So like usual, you try to flee.

At the very least you compliment his work, genuinely amazed by his ability, but that’s the last you can do before the masks starts to crack. You don’t register his grateful smile, nor anything after that, really. You just give Tae an offhand excuse you don’t really process, and without waiting for any sort of response you scurry out of the room, vision blurry.

By the time you’re inside safer walls, tears have already stained your cheeks.