#proceeds to not join him underneath for some reason and just walks with him in the rain getting drenched

[thechibilitwick]

winter hater kazui is like this to shidou do u gets

is he stupid or what

[paperultra]

the liminal space.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.

Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.

So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”

His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.

He pauses.

Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.

The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.

The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.

Great.

—

It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.

(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)

(But you digress.)

The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.

After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.

Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.

“Sleeping.”

He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”

“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”

You huff.

The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.

So, you kick yourself off instead.

“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.

“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.

Neither of you budge.

The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.

Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)

—

The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.

“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.

“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.

“Yeah …”

You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.

“I’m cold.”

There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.

You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.

Zoro murmurs your name.

“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.

Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.

He’s already gone when you wake up.

—

A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”

“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.

The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.

“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”

“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”

There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.

Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.

It is brief and straightforward.

“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.

Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.

[imaginesbymonika]

Confessional Cam

Chapter 5

Pairing: Chris Pontius × fem!Reader

Plot: Y/N and Chris have been hooking up with each other for months now. And the young woman was convinced that they both weren't catching feelings until a confession caught on tape changes everything.

Warnings: Swearing, angst

masterlist | previous chapter

song to listen to while reading

When Johnny opens up his room they are greeted by darkness and silence. With one sudden motion he turns on the lights: "See, you assholes, we went up here for no reason." He walks into the bedroom and opens up the large closet, while Ryan lowers himself to the floor to peek under the bed.

“No one is in here.”

Bam sighs and nods: "Yeah, you're right." "Also, do you really believe that I would keep the tapes in my room? I make those confessions as well, I don't even trust myself that much." Laughter escapes Ryan’s lips before the three men leave the room again.

“These two would be stupid if they actually thought it would be that easy.”

Y/N concentrates on Chris' low breathing while they both sit in the dark bathroom. The tub underneath her is hard and cold and she wants to reach out to him as they listen to how the voices of their friends become more hushed with each second that passes. Her hand glides over the polished surface. But she stops herself before she can get anywhere near him.

She wants to apologize for what she let out in the elevator. She wants to tell him how she believes that wherever he happens to be might just be the coolest place in the world. But she doesn't. Instead, she hears how Chris gradually gets up. And when he turns on the light he holds out his hand for her to grab, but she simply shakes her head and stands up by herself.

"Well.", he declares and an unhappy look arises on his face: "I'm fucked." And Y/N chuckles softly: "Me too." He joins her and for a second both of them are giggling. He clears his throat: "I know, we never put a time limit on our sex thing, but-.", he hesitates and looks at her the way he did in the mirror: "I know that this is going to sound super creepy, but can I just... for a moment... look at you?"

Y/N nods softly and he understands that there is nothing humorous about their situation. They both knew that this was the end of it. Then he looks at her. Really looks at her. As if her skin was translucent and he could observe the very core of her entity, maybe even go over her thoughts. But Y/N recognizes he cannot do that, otherwise, he would kiss her.

They both held hands during the elevator ride back to the lobby.

"There you two are.", Johnny announces as Y/N and Chris walked back into the hotel bar. She furrows her forehead at which the older man just laughs: "Ryan and Bam over here we’re convinced that you two were trying to destroy the tapes.” At that Chris only laughs and slaps the back of Ryan’s head as he walks past him, making everyone at the table laugh:” You’re so stupid.”

And for a moment it’s as if nothing had happened. “Bam.”, Jason declares :” Do what you promised us you would do.” Bam merely sighs and runs a hand down his face before he looks back up at Y/N:” I wanted to apologize.” The young woman smiles and nods. “And whatever’s on those tapes is most likely not even half as bad as some of the stuff Steve-O said.” “I agree.”, Steveo says and everyone proceeds to chuckle. But deep down Y/N doesn’t want to, all she craves is to hide out in her room.

“Guys.”, she says after a moment and crosses her arms in front of her chest:” I am feeling pretty exhausted, so I am probably going to catch some sleep before tomorrow.” Johnny only nods:” Don’t forget to set the alarm for 4, we need to catch the 6 am flight.” She instantly walks out of the room, not looking back.

Chris watches her leave. This didn’t feel right. Nothing about the last couple of months felt right…besides her, of course.

As soon as Y/N reaches her hotel room the tears start to drop from her eyes. And heavy sobs leave her throat. All she could think about was how she was most likely going to lose her friendship with Chris over that fucking tape. So without really thinking about it she walks back out of her room and down the hallway, she hastily takes a keycard out of her pocket and opens up room 587:

The confessions room.

[221bshrlocked]

Uuhhhh tell me more about that Marcus Pike thot

Say no more!! 3K of filth below the cut so proceed with caution babes.

Marcus knows he's in trouble as soon as you make an appearance. Whatever conversation he was a part of evaporates as he watches you walk through the crowd and smile towards him. He almost drops the drink in his hand but instead tightens his hold around the glass to feel grounded. When you reach him and the other agents, you bid your hellos before you turn towards him and raise an eyebrow at the obvious bewilderment on his face.

“And good evening to you Agent Pike,” the way you use his title makes him wish he could just lean over and kiss you but he remembers where he is and the reason behind this gala and he clears his throat almost immediately.

“H-hey, you um…you look- uhh,” his forgets what he wants to say when you tilt your head and throw him that pretty smile of yours. When he stays quiet and continues to stare at you, you look around at the other agents and laugh.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, even though you still didn’t say what exactly I look like.” Everyone laughs when Marcus blushes at your words and you slip your hands through his arm before you excuse yourself. Marcus follows blindly, never once moving his eyes away from you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like the dress.” You lean down and whisper to Marcus as you nod at the guests you pass and Marcus can’t find the words to say anything so he gulps down the rest of the drink and looks away.

“You know, you don’t look so bad yourself. Actually, I don’t think you could ever look bad even if you tried darling.” At that, Marcus halts in his steps and turns to face you. He blinks in confusion at your bold words and as he’s about to ask you what you meant, you take the wine glass away from him and move towards one of the hallways. Marcus is still too star struck to say anything and it’s not until the two of you are standing in the middle of the host’s art collection that he finally snaps out of his haze.

“We- we shouldn’t be here, it’s-”

“Oh come on, we’re the ones that returned all of this back to what’s his face, I’m sure it’s fine.” You walk around and study the paintings, making sure to spend a long while facing away from Marcus so he could get a fill of your almost nude back. When you turn around and begin walking towards Marcus, he gulps nervously and fists his hands tightly so he doesn’t do anything that might bother you.

“If I had known that a pretty dress and some heels would finally get you to notice me, I would have come into work dressed like this every day.” You smile when he unintentionally looks down to the low cut dress.

“I- I always notice you,” it’s the last thing you expect Marcus to say and when you raise a curious eyebrow at him, he inhales deeply before he parts his lips to continue. “I just thought that…you- you wouldn’t be interested in a guy like me.” The confession breaks your heart because it seemed that everyone on the team knew of your not-so-little crush but him.

“Baby,” Marcus shivers at the way you moan at him and he shuts his eyes when you slip your hands up his chest until they’re around his neck, “you’re all I think about day and night…even since you joined our team, I thought of no one else but you.” It’s Marcus’ turn to be surprised at your revelation and before he can respond, you lean up and kiss his lips, silently begging him to move against you as you slip your tongue into his mouth and explore him.

Marcus is shocked by the turn of events but he immediately wraps his arms around your back, groaning in pain when he feels your heated skin beneath his touch. He slips one hand underneath the satin material of the dress and deepens the kiss when you moan in return. It’s no longer a sweet sentiment but a hungry one as the two of you devour each other. When Marcus digs his fingers into your curves, you unintentionally tug on his hair, the action earning you the sweetest little whimper from Marcus as he breaks the kiss and begs for you.

Oh, this was interesting.

“Marcus, baby…I need you.” It sounds more like a command than anything else and Marcus furrows his eyebrow in shock when he looks at you and sees how serious you are.

“What? Here, right now?” His voice breaks and you almost laugh at how surprised he sounds, but you push him away and begin to slide down to your knees. Marcus almost chokes when you drag your hands down his chest and cup his hardening cock through his pants. As soon as he hunches over to try and beg you to stop before this goes any further, you’re pulling him down and moving him onto his back. Marcus’s world turns upside down all of a sudden and as he’s about to ask you how you managed to get him on the floor so quickly, you’re straddling his lap and covering him with your body.

“Fuck baby you feel so good like this, so fucking hard,” you smile when you feel his hands move to your hips and begin to rock you against him. Marcus is torn between taking in your excited flesh and the pretty smile that can’t seem to leave your features but you don’t give him an option as you mold your lips with his own plush ones again and suck on them. He’s a mess beneath you already and you wish with all your heart that you were somewhere more private so you could hear him plead and beg for you to have your way with him.

“God baby, you’ve been holding out on me haven’t you? You’re so fucking broad, so big and strong, thank God your clothes don’t reveal how fit you are or else I would have lost you a long time ago.” Marcus coos at your praise and you know immediately that he was the type of man that longed to be controlled. It made sense since he was often the one making difficult decisions on a daily basis. You continue to rock against the tent on his dress pants and as you sit up and drag your nails down his chest, Marcus arches his neck and squeezes the skin of your hips. One look at his delicious neck and you lean down again and begin to suck on his jugular. Marcus growls when he feels your teeth dig into his Adam's apple and he bends his knees to get you to move closer to him.

“Ah fuck please…please I- I need-” He can’t finish the sentence again and you reluctantly pull away and slide down his legs for a moment. Marcus is disappointed and wants to ask you why you stopped when he looks down and sees what you’re doing.

“I- are you-”

“I need to feel you inside me baby, right now. I’m so fucking wet for you. Don’t you want to feel me too? I could make you see stars Agent Pike, have your thick cock fill me to the brim until I can’t think of anything else…let me walk around with your cum leaking down my thighs baby please? What do you say?” You’ve already unbuckled his belt and zipped down his pants but you wait for a moment to make sure that he wants this as much as you. When he doesn’t answer right away, you realize that you may have taken this too far, but before you can get up, Marcus takes your hand and raises it to his lips before he kisses your palm.

“Please sweetheart, make me yours.” It’s all the confirmation you need before you lower down his pants and boxers far enough to take out his cock and when your eyes widen at the sight of how large and thick it is, Marcus whines in pain. “Please,” he whispers again and you remember what you want to do. Not caring for how filthy it might look, you spit on your hands and slide them up and down his length, relishing the way Marcus whimpers and shudders with every squeeze and scratch you deliver to him.

Marcus’ attention shifts to you when you let go of him, and he barely manages to hold back from coming when he sees you move your dress aside to reveal the gun holster that holds your weapon and your badge. It’s the prettiest and filthiest sight he could ever behold and he knows it will forever be etched in his mind. To know that someone as beautiful and dangerous as you chose him makes Marcus want to confess his deepest desires to you but he can’t find the coherence yet again when he looks down and sees your bare cunt glistening for him.

“You’re…you didn’t wear any-”

“Easier access for you baby,” you wink at him and almost chuckle when he blushes even deeper. There’s a compliment at the tip of his tongue but he stops breathing when you hold yourself up and take hold of his cock. A few swipes against your clit makes you moan his name over and over again, and Marcus thinks that he must have died and went to heaven because there was no way something so minimal was making you pray his name like a mantra.

He wants to beg you for more, he wants to ask you to just take him right then and there, to mark him with your arousal and your lipstick, and your teeth. But his brain melts away all sorts of thoughts as soon as you lower yourself down on his dick until he could feel you clench around every bit of him. Marcus feels like the wind was knocked out of him as you take him in your tight, wet cunt and when he looks at you and sees the smile on your mouth widen in pleasure, he knows he is the luckiest man alive.

��Ohhh fuck baby you…you feel so much better than I thought…than I dreamt all those nights. I could feel you so deep inside me Marcus, so hard and hot…shit- can I move baby? Please, let me move, wanna cum on your cock,” he’s not sure why you’re asking him if you can move when he should be the one telling you if he could, but he doesn’t bother to question you, nodding frantically like a crazed man as he moves his hands up your thighs to your tits. Marcus feels under a haze when he slips his warm hands beneath the fabric of your dress and as soon as he swipes his fingers across your hardened nipples, you begin to rock against him. He wants to tell you how pretty you look like this, taking your pleasure from him as if he was the only one that could make you feel good. But every time he tries to say anything, your cunt squeezes his cock and he forgets what he’s going to say.

“Oh yes baby that’s it, you’re so thick Marcus. Such a good boy for letting me get off on your cock,” Marcus whines at your words, and he marvels at how you managed to make him a mess within seconds of fucking him. He pinches your nipples and feels the breath get knocked out of him when you throw your head back and moan his name. But then you’re taking hold of both of his wrists and slamming them above his head and he wants to scream. His cock drives deeper into you the closer you move against him and he looks up with nothing but reverence in his eyes as he watches you fuck yourself on his dick.

“You look so good like this baby, letting me use you…such a pretty little thing you are. Ah fuck…fuck oh god yes, right there, right fucking there baby,” you lose your train of thoughts for a moment, relishing the way he seems to meet your thrusts half way and push deeper into you with each push of his hips. You’d tell him later that you’ve never felt someone go as deep in your pussy as he has, knowing that unlike other men where such a confession would go to their heads, Marcus would probably blush and tell you that you were just being silly.

“C-can’t wait for you to- to mark me with your cum baby, I- I won’t get off until you cum in my pussy…till I can feel you filling me up with your beautiful cock, oh fuck Marcus, I’m so close. Please baby I want to cum, but- but I won’t cum till you push your seed in my cunt. Do-don’t you wanna mark me Agent Pike? S-so everyone could know what we did here tonight? Don’t you want me to walk around with you leaking down my thighs..m-making a mess of my dress, a-and my gun…and my badge…oh god oh fuck oh yes-“

“Sweetheart please…Ahhh f-fucking hell I-” Your hands immediately shoot to his neck when he begins to scream his pleasure into the empty room. Marcus feels a zap of pleasure shoot down his spine when you clamp your palm around his mouth to quiet him down. He looks into your eyes and shakes when he sees the way you’re staring down at him.

“Shhhh baby, don’t want an audience now do we? Fuck- fuck Marcus I- I really am close but you- you have to be quiet…cum for me…be a good boy and cum in me,” you edge him on further, whispering your own desires to him like a sweet benediction as you begin to ride him harder. You could feel every protruding vein sliding against your tight walls and you focus as much as possible on not coming until you feel him shoot his seed into your womb. Marcus keeps his hands above his head and you can’t help but tighten the hold you have around his neck just a little to get him to lose control. As willing as he was beneath you, you know you could get him riled up until he fucks up into you.

As soon as you shove two fingers into his mouth, Marcus’ hands shoot to your waist and he bends his knees to ground himself to the floor before he fucks up into you without remorse. You want to scream his name but you know you’d probably get in trouble if you are caught so you bite into your lower lip and keep your hands on his throat and mouth so you could quiet him down. He’s groaning like a man who’s in between pain and pleasure and as soon as you turn your attention down towards him and see him silently begging if he can cum, you move your fingers across his tongue and push down on it to get his attention.

“Go on, cum for me baby…claim my pussy.” It’s all he needs to push his cock into you a few more times before he holds you harshly against him. As soon as you feel his warm seed shoot inside your pussy, you throw your head back and clench around him violently, not caring for how oversensitive he must feel as your walls flutter around his dick. The sight of you reaching your pleasure just from feeling him fill you up drives Marcus mad and he pulls you down against his chest to claim your mouth as well. You let go of neck and lose yourself against him as his hips continue to rock against your own softly, as if he wanted to drive his seed deeper into you so it would take longer for it to seep down your legs.

The two of you are heaving aggressively as you continue to touch each other and it’s not until you hear laughter erupt outside the doors of the private room that you remember where you are.

Marcus is first to break the kiss and he looks up at you as if he still wasn’t sure of your intentions. When you caress his cheeks and nudge his nose with your own, a smile beams across his handsome features and he moves his arms across your back to keep you close to him.

“How about we finish this off back at your place?” You don’t even have to finish the question before Marcus is nodding up at you and you lean down to give him a quick peck on the lips before you get off of him. Both of you wince in disappointment as Marcus pulls out and you fix your dress as quickly as possible before you help Marcus look a little presentable. When you take him in and start laughing, Marcus blushes and tries to fix his bowtie and hair.

“Baby, you look thoroughly fucked. No amount of fixing will make you appear otherwise, I- I would say I’m sorry but one look at you in that suit and I kinda lost myself. You look delicious,” as you thought earlier, Marcus shakes his head and tries to avoid your gaze when you continue to eye him like a piece of candy.

“Well, I- I think it’s best if we just l-leave now.” He tries to distract you but you ignore his comment and pull him but his jacket.

“Nuh uh, I wasn’t lying when I said I want to walk around with your cum leaking down my thighs Agent Pike.” Marcus’ eyes widen in embarrassment when you lean into his space and leave a few kisses across the skin of his neck.

“W-what am I supposed to do until w-we leave?” He points at himself and waits for your response.

“Well, you’re a smart boy. I think you’ll figure it out.” You wink at him before you move towards the exit and unlock the door of the room. Marcus stands there in silence until a smile slowly makes its way across his features.

But it goes away as quick as it comes when Marcus looks up and sees a red light flashing at the corner of the room.

Fuck, the cameras!

[katmoonz]

Depression

Pairing: Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3034

Includes: TW suicidal thoughts, depression, mentions of missing meals, crying, fluff, hugs, angst to fluff, comfort

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work. 

Notes: I have depression, this fic is kinda based off of my experience with depression. I wanted more than anything for someone to notice how badly I was struggling and I was in desperate need of a hug. I can’t change the past but I can write down my thoughts, feelings and what I needed at the time.

Thank you @quindolyn for helping me to fix a couple bits and for helping me decide on the ending xx

Depression is completely unpredictable. You might feel on top of the world one minute and suddenly feel miserable the next. You smile around your friends and family hoping that they don’t notice that anything is wrong but deep down you just want someone to notice, to care, to ask you how you are or just hold you while you cry it all out. You want to die yet you can’t bring yourself to do the actions that would end it all because that scares you even more than living.

Lately, you had been feeling very happy. Remus and Sirius were wonderful boyfriends and would do everything they could to make you laugh or smile. Your favourite moments with Remus are the ones where he decides to cuddle with you, there is nothing more relaxing than just resting your head on his chest and listening to the thump of his heart and his steady breaths.

The best moments with Sirius are when he tries to make up his own jokes, most of the jokes he tries to tell aren’t even funny but that somehow makes it funnier when he tells you a bad one-liner whilst in detention. The sweetest thing about Sirius is that when you least expect it he curls up on the bed and sleeps next to you as Padfoot. It’s the sweetest thing ever waking up in Remus’ arms to Padfoot lying across your chest, Remus just watches over the pair of you with a smile upon his face at seeing his two lovers sleeping so peacefully.

This morning you had woken up and felt like crap, you couldn't quite place it so you skipped breakfast and had a lie-in instead. This caused you to miss your first lesson and most of lunch. You managed to go to your next lesson though which was Charms with your boyfriend Remus.

At first, you tried to concentrate but you felt like a cloud had settled itself over your head causing you to struggle with your work.

You’d been feeling better for a while now but for some reason today had just left you feeling miserable. For the rest of class, you sat with your head in your hand gazing out the window.

Remus could tell that you weren’t paying attention to the class and was starting to grow concerned. “y/n, you okay?” He whispers in your ear.

Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or bother him, you just nod and force a smile in the hopes that you could pretend that everything was fine.

The bell rang a few minutes later signalling the end of the class period. You had History of Magic next, Remus wasn’t in that class with you but Sirius was. Remus walked you to your next class observing your behaviour.

You weren’t smiling and didn’t speak at all on the way there simply looking at the ground. Remus stopped with you at the classroom door and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright love? You know you can talk to me if something is wrong.”

Looking up at him you sigh. “I’m fine,” you say quietly before turning around and walking into the classroom.

Remus was growing very concerned with your behaviour, something was clearly wrong but you weren’t telling him.

Just then Sirius walks down the corridor. “Moony, decided to switch classes have you?” He jokes.

Not wanting anyone to overhear the conversation Remus grabs his arm and pulls him over to an empty classroom shoving him in the door.

“I need a favour,” said Remus in a serious tone.

“What Moons?” replies Sirius, confused at the sudden change in Remus’ behaviour.

“I need you to watch y/n for me and make sure she’s alright. Something is wrong and I want to help her but she won’t tell me anything.” blurts Remus.

Sirius pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Remus, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Sirius leaves the empty room and proceeds to walk into the History of Magic classroom.

Sirius seats himself beside you but you don’t notice at first because you are spaced out not paying any attention to the lecture being given by Binns.

You felt like crap to put it simply. You wanted to focus on your classes so badly but your brain was just telling you no.

Your brain is running at a hundred miles an hour making you feel even worse. *I’m going to fail all of my classes. Why am I so useless? Do the boys love me or do they just tolerate me? Nobody loves me, not really. I wish I was dead, why can’t I just die?*

You feel slow tears make their way down your face. You sniffle softly not wanting to bother anyone.

Sirius quickly notices your tears as you sniffle next to him. *Moony is right* thought Sirius *something is very wrong.*

Sirius reaches a hand out to yours underneath the desk and gives it a gentle squeeze as a reminder that he is there for you.

Finally, you have enough of your self-deprecating thoughts and abruptly stand up, grab your things and leave despite only having twenty minutes of class left. Sirius gets up and follows you, grabbing your hand as you leave the room.

The pair of you walk silently through the castle until you get back to the Gryffindor common room. Sirius seats you at the couch in front of the fire before grabbing your bag and chucking it aside.

Sirius sits down next to you as you stare into the ornate fireplace with tears still slowly rolling down your face. “Y/n love, what’s wrong?” He softly asks.

Instead of answering him, you rest your head on his shoulder. Sirius brings his arms around you to pull you into a hug. The pair of you sit like that for a while, listening to the crackle of the fire and your sorrowful sniffles. Sirius simply holds you whilst tears slowly roll down your face.

“I'm sorry, I’m just tired. I think I’m gonna go have a nap” you say softly.

“Alright doll, I’ll see you at dinner then?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you tell him knowing full well that you wouldn’t be in the mood to eat.

Leaving Sirius in the common room you walk up to the boys dorm and throw yourself down on Remus' bed. Grabbing a discarded sweater from Sirius’ bed on the way. You curl up in a ball under the covers on Remus’ bed before letting the tears fall down your face again *why can’t I just feel happy for once in my life? I always fuck everything up, I want to die*

Sirius watches you walk up the stairs to the boys dorm before letting out a sigh and putting his head in his hands. You had never been like this, you were usually so bright and cheerful something bad must have happened because Sirius hadn’t seen even the slightest smile all day.

The bell for the next lesson rings and Sirius remains sitting on the sofa in the common room contemplating what he should tell Remus. He didn’t want to make his friend even more alarmed but he couldn’t hide his feeling of concern for your breakdown in class.

Remus enters the common room behind a babble of second years who were complaining to each other about their homework.

Spotting Sirius on the sofa before the fire he rushes over to sit next to him.

“Where’s y/n? Is she alright?”

Sirius takes a deep breath before sitting back on the sofa. “No, I can see what you mean Rem, she’s very upset.”

“What do you mean?” replies a panicked Remus

Sirius turns to face him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look mate I don’t want to worry you but in class, she just sat and stared into space, then she started crying and walked out.”

Remus let out a pained sigh and ran his hands down his face before clasping them in his lap. “Is she okay? where is she now?”

“I walked her back here, we had a cuddle for a while then she said that she was just tired so she left to have a nap,” replies Sirius

Remus stands up from the sofa and brushes his sweaty palms off of his trousers, “let's go and check on her.”

Sirius rises off of the sofa too, he turns around and looks around the common room before turning back to Remus. “Maybe she just needs space, she told me she’d come down to dinner so let's just give her some time alone and if she doesn't come to dinner then we can go and check on her.”

Staring into Sirius’ stormy grey irises Remus stays standing for another minute before nodding and sitting back down.

The boys study in the common room for an hour in complete silence, both of them preoccupied with thoughts of their distressed girlfriend. Sirius and Remus then head down to dinner, sitting down at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors so that they could spot you as soon as you walked in.

The boys sit and pick at their food mindlessly for ten minutes continuously watching the door in hope that you’d join them for the meal.

Sirius lets out a deep sigh and drops his fork on his plate rubbing his brow before looking at Remus. Remus looks up at him offering a small smile before standing up. “Come on Pads, our girl needs us”

Sirius quickly stands up and grabs Remus’ hand dragging him out of the great hall. The boys briskly walk hand in hand back to the Gryffindor common room and quickly ascend the stairs to the dorm.

Remus opens the door quietly in case you are sleeping and peers in, he feels his heart break as he catches sight of you. You are lying in his bed fast asleep with puffy eyes from crying.

Remus approaches the bed and sits down on the side closest to you. Gently he starts to stroke your face with his hand whilst gesturing for Sirius to come over to the bed with his other hand. Sirius kneels on the bed next to Remus, reaches out and starts playing with your hair.

Remus watches as you slowly awaken, your eyes fluttering as they adjust to the light in the room. “Darling are you alright?” He asks you softly while rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You feel your eyes fill with tears but don’t want the boys to see them so you roll over and put your face in the pillow hoping that they leave you alone so that you can compose yourself again.

The boys look at each other trying to figure out what to do next. Remus nods at Sirius gesturing for him to try and get a response from you.

“Baby, why didn’t you come to dinner?” You still don’t respond, making Sirius panic. “Please talk to us, we want to help you.” This makes you feel even worse, they just wanted you to be happy but instead, you’d caused them to leave dinner to look for you.

Your body starts to shake as the tears start rolling down your face. You keep the sobs in not wanting to make them even more worried.

Remus carefully runs a hand over your back worried at the lack of response. “Y/n please talk to us, we love you baby we only want to help you. It’s killing me that you are this upset and we want to be here for you.”

This is the last straw and you lose control of your crying, finally letting out the sobs that had been building up all day.

Remus’ heart breaks even more “Oh baby, come here”. Remus turns you over and carefully pulls you into his lap.

You press your head into Remus’ neck and let out all of the emotion that had been held within you all day.

Sirius sits down next to Remus and yourself at the head of the bed, he runs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

Your entire body shakes with sobs, tears soak the front of Remus’ sweater whilst the boys continue to make attempts to console you.

Remus rocks you in his arms carefully trying to calm you down. “Shh darlin’ it’s okay”

You start hyperventilating from the force of your sobs, Remus pulls you back from his chest slightly brushing hair away from your face.

Sirius reaches out to you and picks up one of your hands, he brings it up to his chest so that you can feel his steady heartbeat. “I know you're upset baby but you’ve got to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

Sirius breathes in and out slowly emphasising each breath for you to follow. “In...and out, in…and out.” This continues for a few minutes as you try to regulate your breathing.

“Good girl, you’re doing such a good job baby”

The sobs slow down slightly as you regain control over your breathing, tears still fall down your face but not as quickly as before.

Remus cups your face in his hand wiping away stray tears with his thumb before pressing a solitary kiss to your temple. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Please tell us” he begs.

You let out a sigh, opening and shutting your mouth a few times trying to come up with something to tell them.

Sirius notices your hesitation and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay love, you can tell us anything. I promise you that we’ll try to help you and nothing you say can make us love you any less.”

Looking into his eyes you see nothing but love and concern. You sniffle and wipe one of your sleeves across your face. “I don’t know, I just don’t feel good”

Sirius runs a hand through your hair before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Is it that time of the month baby? You feelin’ sick?”

Tears well up in your eyes again. “No” you reply softly “I don’t feel sick”

“Then what is it babe?” asks Sirius with a small frown on his face.

You consider lying to them for a moment not wanting to burden them with your thoughts and emotions but in the end, it’s the pleading expression upon Remus’ face that makes you give in.

You take a deep breath, “sometimes I just feel really sad, like nothing will get better. I feel like no one loves me. I don't want to bother you guys because I don’t want you to leave me.”

The tears fall down your face again as you turn around and put your face back into Remus’ sweater, your fingers have a firm grasp on him as if letting go would make him disappear.

“Please, please don’t leave me, I’m sorry” you beg them as you cry into Remus’ chest.

Remus feels tears well up in his own eyes but swallows them down in order to comfort you. “No no no, sweetheart, it's okay. I promise that we aren’t leaving you.”

Remus holds you even tighter in his arms “I wish you’d told us that you were feeling like this sooner darling. We love you so much”

Sirius sits in silence listening to Remus comfort you before lifting a hand and rubbing your back. “Look at me baby,” he says with a stern tone.

You look up at him, he has a more pronounced frown upon his face than what was there previously but it softens slightly when he realises that you are watching him.

“You need to tell us when you feel like this okay? You aren’t bothering anyone, we just want to help you and we would never leave you over something like this.”

You remain silent looking away from him, the tears slowing down again so all that remains are the odd couple every few seconds.

“Promise you’ll tell us when you feel like this baby?” He asks, holding your face in his hands.

You sniffle softly before agreeing “m’kay, I promise”

“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for telling us baby,” he says fondly before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulls away from your cheek he gets a mischievous look upon his face. “Hey babe, what do you call a cow with two legs?”

You look at him confused for a minute before saying “I dunno”

He leans in towards you with a grin upon his face as though he is telling you a secret “Lean beef”

This causes you to giggle, Sirius smirks whilst Remus chuckles. The boys are pleased to hear you laugh after having been deprived of such beautiful sounds for an entire day.

“Good one wasn’t it?” He asks with a cocky smirk on his face.

“No” you reply, still slightly giggling.

“No!” He repeats back to you in disbelief. “What do you mean no? I thought it was a good one”

Remus raises an eyebrow looking at Sirius “c’mon Pads, you can do better than that”

“Fine, I’ve got a better one” huffs Sirius. “What does the perverted frog say?”

“I dunno” you reply again trying to keep a straight face.

“Rubbit” he replies.

This joke was much funnier than the last and you burst out in laughter. You have joyous tears of laughter pouring down your face as you giggle until your sides hurt.

After a while you yawn and rub your eyes, Remus smiles affectionately at you before moving you off of his lap changing positions so that you are laying half on Remus’ chest with Sirius spooning you from behind.

“C’mon darling, let's get some sleep,” he says quietly.

Sirius buries his face in the back of your neck before mumbling out a quick “I love you”

You settle down into their embrace, relaxing all of your muscles and just as you are dozing off to sleep you feel Remus run his hand through your hair as he whispers “I love you darling, more than you will ever know.”

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

[abundanceofnots]

The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—

Well, whatever they are to each other.

Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.

“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tami smiles, undeterred.

“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.

“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”

Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”

His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.

“Yeah?”

“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”

Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.

There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.

His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.

“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.

“Why you’re scared.”

On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”

“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”

“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?

She responds with a sincere smile.

“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”

Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”

“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.

“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”

For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”

“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.

Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.

Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.

He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.

“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”

“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”

“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”

The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.

The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.

He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.

“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”

Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.

“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”

“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.

“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”

He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.

Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.

“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”

Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”

He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.

“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”

Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.

“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”

Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.

“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.

He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“

But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.

“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.

“Think I’m gonna puke.”

“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.

Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”

[thiserichann]

cinderella and the mystery of the red lipstick (smut version) - d.sc

reader x roommate!winwin

genre: smut, fluff, humor

warnings: making out, drunk sex, femdom, safe sex, a bit of soft dom! Winwin and soft dom! reader

word count: 2562

synopsis: this is another Cinderella fic, except for the fact that she left lipstick stains instead of glass slippers

prompt:

This is my (very late) entry for @neosmutcollective's Risque event.

The song it was based on was Lips by NCT 127 (although it leaned towards the demo version more)

It was also a bit upbeat because the song Cinderella by CNBLUE (the Youth With You version) has been stuck on my head for ages now.

Enjoy reading!

Love, Ellie.

(link to the full story here)

Entering the party through someone’s window is probably the most ungraceful way to enter the party. However, you had no choice. Yes, it was rude to enter someone’s party without the owner’s invite. But, in your defense, it was ruder to not invite someone to a house party at your place.

Your brother, dear Hendery Huang, was kind enough to send you on your merry way that morning when you told him that you’re coming home late for a project.

“You know what, since I love you so much, you can stay over until morning. Sounds fun, right?”

And then the bastard proceeded to throw a party that same day.

The window to your shared bedroom with Hendery was wide open. He should be glad that it was you walking in rather than a criminal.

It wasn’t a criminal offense if you’re the one breaking in at your place.

You have successfully entered your room, changing into an outfit that your family would’ve never approved of, and wore layers of makeup to hide your identity. After the makeover, you’re almost unrecognizable. Your favorite touch is that bright red lip that you ordered from a friend that morning. There had been a mix-up in the delivery, you’re supposed to get that mauve color that you always wore when you go out. It was an honest mistake on the seller’s part, but you were kind enough to not send it back and keep the color instead.

You made it out of the room without being unnoticed. It’s not like anyone knows you at all though. The crowd is usually made up of people within Hendery and his roommates’ circle, people you usually do not interact with daily. You’ve also managed to sneak past the living room and into the kitchen where all the booze is. Grabbing a red cup full of whatever alcohol was on the counter, you made your way once again to the sea of people enjoying the party.

Since you barely knew every one, you just settled on leaning against the wall and observed the rest of the party. Honestly, you couldn’t understand what the fuss was about. It’s just a bunch of people using alcohol as an excuse to doing a bunch of dumb shit.

The introvert in you kicked in, and so you decided to finish your vodka in peace, which is translated to getting drunk in your room as you watch your favorite Netflix series.

Smiling happily, you made your way out past the crowd and into the sleeping quarters, where your room is. Thankfully, the guys are nowhere to be found and you can happily sneak back to your room without getting noticed. You have failed to account for one thing though. Near the sleeping quarters is a single, communal bathroom. Just as you’re about to enter your room, outcomes Sicheng, in a daze, trying his best to stand still as he holds on to the bathroom door for support.

“You can’t go there.” He croaked, speech already slurring due to his drunken state.

“Ah, yes. Thanks.” You made zero fuss about it, knowing that staying there would expose you to Sicheng. You don’t think he will tell your brother of your current whereabouts, but you digressed, just to be safe.

He then proceeds to call your name.

“Is that you? Can you help me out here?” You grunted, knowing full well that your identity had just been revealed. The guy looked like he needed help though, so you threw all the world in and helped him go back to his room. You grabbed him by his arms, which he then wrapped around you to help him support his weight, and walked step by step towards his room.

You heard footsteps coming from the outside, and in your panic, you used the drunk man’s body to shield the view of whoever it is that’s coming that way.

“Winwin hyung, you alright back there?”

Your heartbeat raced when you heard your brother’s voice. Knowing him, he would tell your mother that her precious little daughter is not only drunk but she’s wrapped around a guy’s arms doing god-knows-what. You leaned across the wall, stretching your arm out and wrapping it around Winwin’s neck. You pulled him closer, bodies only inches apart, making it look like the two of you are making out.

“Oh, you’re busy. Alright. Have fun!” The footsteps were gone in the moment, but your position stayed the same. You turned your gaze back at Sicheng, which is now looking at you weirdly.

“Hey.” You whispered.

“Hey.”

“I would like to get out of this position now.” You whispered once again, hints of your nerves already peeking out of your voice.”

“You’re pretty.” You stayed quiet, but you’re mentally screaming inside. Your emotions are going in a frenzy and something on the back of your mind keeps on telling you to pull him closer and turn the act into reality.

But that would be weird, right? Even if you’re a bit tipsy, reason has never left your brain. It’s nagging you to do the opposite, to push him away and proceed with your evening plans. The internal conflict rendered you frozen on the spot.

His eyes were fixed on yours, and as much as you want to look away, you’re afraid that that will get you into more danger. Looking away means you’re gonna have to take your eyes off of him, and you won’t see what he’s about to do next.

He was staring, which you now realized is him waiting for you to react and do something. Pull him closer and get lost in him, or push him away and live with the rest of your lives knowing that you missed an opportunity to get with someone you never thought would be interested in you.

Something.

Your inactive irritated him, and so he leaned in closer, his lips now hovering above yours, the scent of his perfume, sweat, and alcohol made him addictive.

“What’s stopping you right now?”

You were breathless, but you know you had to answer. He’s got a bit of authoritativeness in him and you feel like refusal consequent to a punishment.

“You.”

“I can stop if you're uncomfortable,” Winwin smiles, not the perverted kind, but the sweet reassuring kind that made you melt inside. "But the way you're holding me right now tells me otherwise."

He carefully placed his hands on your hip, calculating his every move to not get slapped that evening. It worked. You didn't even pick up a fight, even as his hands glided to your back to finally seal the distance between the two of you.

"So tell me, do you want me to stop?"

You had a clear answer in your head, but no sounds come out of your mouth except small squeaks and squeals due to his touch. It took you a while to utter the following words to him.

"No. Don't stop."

"Good." That was his only response. He took your answer as a sign of your consent and pushed you back to the wall, finally claiming your lips as he does so. You moaned under him, unable to tell him about how overwhelmed you are, and that you don't know how to move and match his pace. You take a deep breath and relaxed, letting him take the lead as he hugged you closer, going deeper into the kiss. He also made sure to give attention to your neck and jaws, which leaves you to place your lips in any piece of skin that you're able to reach the moment.

Before anything fun happens though, he pulled away from you, leaving you there in confusion.

"More?"

"More." This time, it was you who initiated the kiss. Slowly, you get traces of the old Sicheng back. The shy and quiet kid from before, not the confident sex demon that he was a few minutes back.

He had the mind to open his bedroom door, which was just a few inches away from where the two of you were just standing. The idea of him having common sense made him a lot sexier. It was enough to tickle that sapiophile in you.

In a few careful steps, your back hits the bed and he was on top of you. It seems like he was uncomfortable with that idea, and so he carried you in his arms and switched the positions, leaving you on top of him. You can still tell that he was very drunk, and he might not be able to do things with full precision in that state. Again, his sense is sexy.

You took that as a sign to take over, so you pulled away to try and fix the position into something more comfortable. When you did though, you were horrified to see that your lipstick was not kiss-proof, and so he some of it smeared all across his face and neck. It didn't bother him at all though because he used his perfectly white shirt to wipe some of it off of his face.

"Well?" You were snapped back into reality and proceeded to sit on his lower torso, kissing him with the same intensity that you did earlier. He happily returned the favor, making sure to place his hands on your sensitive skin, giving you goosebumps all over.

He was the first one to take off his shirt, throwing it into the side of the bed to take some of the heat off his body. You followed the suit, discovering that you made a good call earlier by wearing something sexy underneath. It was supposed by making you feel confident as you blend in with the crowd earlier, but it was a happy coincidence that it matched with the lipstick that you had earlier.

He sat down from the bed, leaning against the bedframe, just so he can reach you better. His fingers twirled around the straps of your bra, bringing them down slowly and let them fall to your shoulders. You helped him out by unclasping the hook, removing it completely from your body. It has now joined the pile of discarded clothing below the bed.

His eyes now fall on your half-naked body, gulping down a few times before he said, "I never really took you as the type to do this." You placed a finger in his chins and scooted closer.

"Me neither." You placed a few, quick pecks on his lips, which slowly turned back into a more passionate one, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol in each other's mouth. His hand traveled upwards, cupping a boob softly. The touch sent shivers throughout your body. He started kneading it softly, matching the current pace of the kiss. In between kisses, he staring spewing out nonsense, like how beautiful you looked at that light and how soft your skin feels under his skin. This is the most talkative he's been since you first saw him, and you can't tell if it's the alcohol or he's just that noisy in bed. Nonetheless, you were elated. Every piece of flattery that he says made you blush, making you glow even more in his eyes.

But his favorite will always be your lips. He loved it when your lips left red marks on his neck. He loved it when you moan his name every time his hand would caress you. He made sure to let you know that your pretty lips would be something that he can't forget.

He takes off the rest of your clothes. Even as he dipped his fingers inside you, he made sure to claim your lips, keeping it occupied as much as he can. It's the only thing that's keeping him hooked, even when his body is telling him to shut down.

You couldn't wait any longer, and so you scooted down and took off his pants and underwear, rolling it off him as quickly as you can. You didn't wait for him to respond, taking it in your mouth instead, earning a surprised gasp from him. You can hear him whining from under you, moaning your name, and as your mouth takes all of him. It didn't take a while though, because he motioned you to stop and come closer. He was breathless after you were done with him.

He reached out for the desk rights beside his bed, feeling out the drawers before he managed to pull out a foil packet. He carelessly ripped it with his teeth and grabbed the condom inside to hand it to you. You realized that his vision must still be blurry, and so you took the liberty to unroll it in his cock and get on with it. Then, you carefully lined his dick to your entrance, lowering your body slowly, stretching you down until he was fully inside. He grabbed your hips and pushed inside further into you unexpectedly.

"Oh my god, Dong Sicheng!"

He laughed at the notion of you saying his full name in shock, but you were able to recover quickly and met his movements, which is getting quicker and harder every few minutes. Your head falls on his chest, muffling your moans with his skin as you tried your best to keep quiet and hide your presence from the rest of the people in the party. More lipstick stains scatter on his chest, but at that point, Sicheng never cared. He wasn't feeling like himself anymore. His thoughts are empty besides the image of you on top of him, riding him out to orgasm.

Winwin is now getting rougher by the second, series of moans and curses spilling from his mouth as his grip on your waist gets tighter, drilling deeper and harder into you like a madman. You also threw all care away, moans now reaching all four corners of the room, holding on to Sicheng for your damn life as you get closer to your orgasm. In one quick thrust, you started to unravel on top of him, hugging his body closer as you shiver from your orgasm. He never slowed down, because he soon let out a long, drawn-out groan, and you can feel him growing soft inside you, milking out your orgasms as much as he can.

The activity did a number on Sicheng because, in a few minutes of cuddling from under his sheets, you can already hear the quiet snores coming from his direction. You felt bad, apologetic even, that he had to pour out all of his remaining energy on you that night. You slowly pulled away from him, picking the rest of your clothes off before you bid your roommate goodbye for tonight. As much as you loved the cuddles, you'd rather be caught dead than be caught by your brother under someone's bed.

///

"Please don't let any of this get to Hendery. He would never let me see the end of it." You pleaded, placing a hand on the bridge of your nose as you recall the moments of last night.

"I think your brother knows already. He's smarter than you think, just like how you're not as innocent as he thinks."

It was the first time that he smiled today, which gave you major flashbacks of last night's rendezvous.

"I was right about one thing last night, though. I'll never be able to forget those lips.”

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xii 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: PG-15 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.6k

g/n: jungkook is a brat wbk; also,,, hoseok here is supposedly as old as seokjin heh i had an internal debate whether or not i should include two other scenes but aslkdfjkasljfas but i ended up with this instead skjff hope yall enjoy!! 

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

The orientation went by like a breeze with Ms. Narae’s quick run throughs of Woocheon’s clinical processes and systems, training programs, hospital expectations, and the explanation of the rest of the map of the hospital you weren’t able to cover during your tour earlier. Before she wraps up, she retrieves your IDs from underneath the table and places them on top of the desk for everyone to get later.  She dismisses the orientation exactly ten minutes before twelve, requesting everyone to head straight to their department’s on-call room after the break.

Soomin, who you’ve recently discovered to have her own Youtube channel, takes out her phone and records a video. You watch from the side as Soomin does her thing, until she tries to call you all over and officially introduce you as good friends turned work colleagues to all her subscribers. 

You hadn’t really expected this whole vlogger thing from her, especially when Soomin was a bit reserved when you were first acquainted with each other, but then again, as your friendship grew, you realized that she had a bit of Chohee in her as well and you thought that’s what caused you to gravitate towards her naturally. 

“Anybody up for lunch?” Soomin asks, rubbing her hands together after she finishes her short recording and tucks her phone back in her pocket. “Yeah, I’m starving...” you murmur, placing a hand on your belly as you hear your stomach grumble its complaint. 

“I heard Woocheon is known to have the best hospital food in Korea. Ever.” Jungkook says, looking around. You’re starting to get skeptical about how Jungkook is lingering around Jimin...Or was it the other way around now? “Shall we?” With Jungkook’s undeniable proposition, Soomin briefly glances at your reluctant face, her own lips pursing with your reaction. “Fine,” you sigh. 

There’s no getting rid of Jungkook now. 

Woocheon’s cafeteria...does not look like a cafeteria at all. 

You weren’t expecting an...urban haven of some sort, a portion of the hospital that you had least envisioned to what seems to be the warmest part of Woocheon. The laminated flooring, faux wooden grain wall panels, along with the suspended lights from this wave-like uneven wooden ceiling - it was as picturesque as a spread on an interior design magazine. 

The interior could easily outrival any other kitchen in the city. “Are you sure this is not some hotel we just walked into?” Jimin questions as he marvels over the sleek urban design of the cafeteria. There’s even a café - which you recognize holds the same logo as Good Day café. You ought to confirm this with Jimin later. 

As you near the serving area, the unmistakable aroma of roast beef fills your senses, making you hungrier than you were just seconds before. “Please don’t tell me Woocheon is actually serving roast beef...” 

You practically salivate at the sight of the food in the counters, a lot of which you realized were influenced by western food culture. There were three different kinds of salad to choose from, baked potatoes, burgers, seafood stew, stir-fried meat, as well as the Korean classic side dishes that you’d never miss in a meal.  And, true to your trusty sense of smell, roast beef was at the end of the line up in all its roasted glory.  

“Yeap,” Soomin says as she turns to face you, “You have three options for the sauce too: mushroom gravy, pepper sauce, or truffle sauce,” Soomin replies matter-of-factly, pointing at the farther end of the food counter. 

“Oh I love this place already!” Exclaims Jimin who’s undecided between eating to his heart’s content and risking a stomachache on the first day of work, or sacrifice half of the dishes for a later time in your stay at Woocheon. Thankfully, Jimin decides on the former. 

“Make sure you have your IDs ready,” Jungkook announces as he joins the line after you. “You’ll have to tap it against this tiny device then they will automatically deduct the total amount of the food you got from your account.”  

Jimin’s face falls instantly at the realization. Jungkook claps the other man’s back, face crumpled as he keeps his laughter in. “Still love this place, Jimin-ssi? Don’t worry now, the three of us can pretend we didn’t hear anything at all.” 

With features forlorn, Soomin makes a hilarious attempt to appease Jimin’s disappointment by stating facts - “Jimin-ah. Hospital food isn’t free.” 

“Yeah. I realize that now,” Jimin replies, an ingenuine smile playing on his lips. 

“Cheer up though! Ms. Narae did mention faculty and staff get a five percent discount on all hospital services...just so happened that they included the cafeteria there as well.” 

Albeit reluctant about the price, Soomin manages to convince your entire group to try out the roast beef for once (and probably your last too. Figures.) “Oh, and by the way, there is one thing that’s free actually. It’s the drink of the day - free for all staff. One each, and available during lunch only.” 

Your eyes travel to the end of the counter straight away at Soomin’s reminder. Calculating the number of cartons left and the people left in the queue, you’re beyond pleased at the fact that you’ll be able to get a free 250ML carton of banana milk today, and also the last person to do so. 

Unfortunately for you, a staff member returns to the counter and retrieves a tetra pack, claiming it was for a senior doctor who forgot to claim the drink. Much to your dismay, a middle-aged man in a white coat was waving to the counter, with his other hand pointing to his tray to prove that he really wasn’t able to take any milk with him. You can’t hide the scowl that creeps on your face. 

Through your peripheral vision, you notice Jungkook closely monitoring the milk as well, the same look of disappointment evident on his face. Maybe losing the milk wasn’t that bad. After all, if you couldn’t one, Jungkook wouldn’t be able to score one either. 

While Jimin checks out his food, one of the kitchen staff suddenly retrieves another carton from the other side of the counter, mumbling about how it must’ve fallen over earlier. You were just about to grab it when the lady at the till calls you next, and you’re forced to move your tray sideward so she can calculate the total amount of your order.  

When you look up to grab your free drink, Jungkook reaches out at the same time and manages to snatch the milk quicker than you. “Hey!” Jungkook simply shrugs his shoulders at your indignant tone. “Sorry darling, finders keepers.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, until the lady calls for Jungkook next, a little too loud for your liking. Your eyeroll comes almost involuntarily, and you shake your head as you follow where Jimin and Soomin were headed to as they look for a seat. 

Jungkook arrives shortly after you do, so you immediately lose the chance to rant about your annoyance towards the latter. He decides to sit across you and you don’t have the chance to complain about it either when he sticks the straw in his milk while he smirks at you. 

What an actual kid. 

You promised yourself you won’t let him get to you, choosing inner peace over fighting with a brat. Besides, two can play at this game, and it’s going to take more than a small carton of milk for him to truly vex you, so you simply smile at him back, returning the favor (of course, while secretly wishing he might choke on his banana milk too).  

“Would you guys mind if I recorded a little bit?” Murmurs of agreement are heard across the table. “Alrightey then,” says Soomin, “This time, none of you boys will be able to escape the camera this time around.” Just as you’d expected, Jimin and Jungkook whine in chorus, vocally expressing their petulance towards Soomin’s ‘vloggering’. 

“Hey! For all you know, you two might even bring more subscribers when I put you two as my thumbnail!” 

“I’m shy…” Jimin argues as he poorly covers his face with his small ID, yet continues to peek through the small gap between the card and the lanyard. 

Soomin rolls her eyes at their childishness and records her food first, praising how surprisingly appetizing the hospital food is. She proceeds to pan the camera towards you as you say hi for the second time today. As Soomin moves onto Jimin, he instantly puts his ID down and waves at the camera sporting a cute smile. “Everyone, this is what ‘camera shy’ looks like nowadays.” 

On the other hand, Jungkook, shameless as ever, pretends to not pay any regard to the camera but he decides to chew on his food with much suave, jaw tightening with every bite of the beef. Soomin calls on Jungkook to say hi, to which he responds by introducing himself and punctuating his statement with a flirty wink. 

For some reason, you feel your stomach drop at the action, causing you to look away momentarily while Soomin instantaneously switches back to her front camera, “Okay, everyone, let’s just pretend these two weren’t flirting with the camera just now.” Soomin shakes her head at the two, deciding that was enough content about lunch at the hospital cafeteria. 

“Shame the camera couldn’t handle it,” Jimin says, pouting as he places a hand over his chest. 

“Maybe it was the lady behind the camera that couldn’t,” adds Jungkook who continues to wink, alternating both his eyes before making a weird face. 

“Okay Jeon. I think that’s enough winking for today.” 

Jungkook wouldn’t stop though and Soomin finally looks at you for help, “Diagnosis: winkitis, ophthalmologist recommends immediate enucleation.”

“Of course! How could I forget? A wink for this young lady over here too.” Jungkook turns to you now but you simply squint your eyes at him as you fake choking on thin air, “I think I might have lost my appetite altogether.” 

As the three of you head back to the locker rooms to retrieve your stuff before going to the surgery department, another hospital staff stops briefly on their way to greet Soomin. It’s the third time in ten minutes and you’re starting to think Soomin knows not just ‘someone’ from the hospital. Strangely enough, they all seemed like they came from different departments too. This particular person must be of high authority or someone really famous to have people greet her as often as this. 

When you round the corner, at the end of the corridor is a lady in formal attire, sporting the same ID as yours  and it’s Soomin who approaches this person this time. As she pulls the person aside, she urges the three of you to go ahead, telling you she’ll catch up in a moment, leaving you sandwiched between Jimin and Jungkook who tower over you easily. 

“Jimin, do you happen to know who it is exactly she knows here?” 

The blond shakes his head no. “She’s never mentioned anybody in particular...all I know too is that she knows somebody here.” 

“Some relatives perhaps? Maybe she’s a family member of a renowned doctor here?” 

“How about her Youtube channel? Maybe she’s famous then? How many followers does she have?” 

You quickly tap on Youtube on your phone with Jungkook’s prodding, looking up her channel on the app. “It says here she’s got quite the following actually... “ you tilt the screen for them to see, “six thousand followers…” 

“That can’t be it. The second one who greeted her was at least in his mid-fifties...Boomers couldn’t have possibly been following...what does she vlog about again? Um… a day in the life of a med student…” 

From behind you, you faintly hear a ‘goodbye’ and you clear your throat, alerting the two of Soomin’s return. “What were you guys going on about here?” 

Jungkook chuckles, smoothly making up an alibi as he takes your phone in his hands, “Hope you don’t mind us checking out your channel…” Surely enough, your screen was showing a video of Soomin studying for her finals. 

“As long as you subscribe, it’s fine with me.” She gives you all a thumbs up. “It’s been a while since I posted anything though...Maybe if we get to the on-call room early, maybe I could film a few shots too! Come on!”  Soomin hooks your arm in hers and drags you to the locker rooms, leaving the two boys standing there in the middle of the hallway.

You figure the four of you were the first interns to arrive, as most of the doctors lounging around were either in their scrubs or heading out for lunch. “Soomin,” Jungkook seemingly deep in thought, taps the girl’s shoulder. 

“Hmm?” 

“Remember when you bumped into me on the day of our graduation...you were with someone right? Um...Jung...Ho...I can’t quite remember his name…” 

“Oh you mean Jung Hoseok? He’s my cousin.” 

As Jungkook opens his mouth to reply, someone calls Soomin from the other side of the room. “Soomin! You’re here!” You spot the surgeons you’ve met during the hospital tour earlier this morning - Dr. Min Yoongi, Dr. Kim Seokjin, and Dr. Kim Namjoon. You all bow promptly as soon as they stand up. 

“I didn’t really have that much of a choice,” Soomin grumbles as she gets squished with each of the doctors’ hugs. “Come on! You’re saying that as if Woocheon isn’t any good at all!” 

The three of you stand awkwardly in the corner while Soomin and the other doctors mingle with each other. You nudge Jungkook’s elbow, “Hey what’s with Soomin’s cous--?” 

“Oh right! These are my friends - ________, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook.  We’re all under your care now.” The three doctors call you over, extending their arms out for a handshake, “Ready to lose your social life?” Dr. Min asks, his bright tone contrasting his drift. 

“It’s an honor to meet you Dr. Min, Dr. Kim, and Dr. Kim.” You bow curtly. “Oh doctor? It's too much! Call us sunbae instead. Oppa is cool too when we’re not working.” Dr. Seokjin’s handshake lingers a little longer than usual and you feel your cheeks start to heat up. “Besides, I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.” 

Yoongi visibly grimaces at Seokjin’s words, while Namjoon covers his face with his hands, mumbling, “Hyung.... For the love of god, please make sure the patients never ever hear that…” 

Namjoon’s reaction elicits laughter from the whole group, but someone’s laugh stands out above all and it’s coming from the other side of the door. Soomin seems to recognize the voice instantly. “He’s here!” 

“Soooommmiiiiiinnn!!!” A loud voice echoes throughout the room. He hugs Soomin briefly, and addresses the rest of you. “Wassup bros?” The newcomer gives each of the surgeons a dap in greeting then turns to greet you three. 

“The whole gang's here!” He says, rubbing his chin, “Let me guess...Jeon Jungkook, _________, and Park Jimin, right?” 

Eyes wide in surprise, you nod slowly. “Soomin here has told me all about you!” Soomin is behind the man, drawing a hand across her throat. “My name’s Jung Hoseok, by the way. Nice to finally meet you all.” 

“He’s the next chairman of the Woocheon Medical City,” Seokjin whispers as he winks in your direction. Hoseok elbows him in the ribs. “No I’m not.” 

“Ah yes. Correction. Not yet.” Seokjin mumbles, massaging his sides. You, Jimin, and Jungkook look at each other with knowing gazes. So that’s the ‘someone’ Soomin knows. 

Woocheon ought to be...interesting.

© joontier 2021

[junicai]

Relationship with NCT Dream

➣ MARK ☾ mari

½ of the best friend crew

honestly at the beginning, mark and aria weren’t very close, having only really seen each other in passing or with johnny

but after being dropped into training together the two quickly became fast friends, and now they’re borderline inseparable

you thought you knew pain? watch aria’s reaction to mark’s graduation from dream :)

mark’s the reason why aria felt confident enough to pitch some of her lyric ideas to the team, after staying up until 4am to help her make some edits so she was as confident as possible

kinda just, rests his head on her shoulder? and wraps his arms around her waist when he’s tired

mari being confused in foreigner: ???

aria said once in a vlive that she finds mark really comforting to be around - when she feels stressed or worried about something she’ll go to mark’s room and just sit on his bed for a while

aria is so close with his parents - “ahh, how’s my favourite child” “i’m doing great mom.” “no not you, how’s aria?” “wh-hu-MOM?”

you’d swear sometimes mark is younger than her, considering the pout he puts on and how much he whines when they’re not on the same team together for promotions

mark big protecc boi but also little small cuddly boi

they’re so soft for each other ( ╥ω╥ )

in one of the fancams for mark’s solo stage during superm, someone zoomed into aria singing along with him in the wings and dancing to herself with the Proudest Smile™

he’s! so! proud! of! her! constantly! she could be walking and he’d be like “omg get it”

when aria refuses to get up and make herself food (this happens way too often, she just gets into the groove of her work and doesn’t want to move) mark gets her to by threatening to do it himself

consistently caught by czennies just standing behind her and holding her hand in crowded areas - airports, waiting rooms, etc.

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

mark and aria were standing off to one side as the mc explained the rules of the game they were about to be playing. mark looked totally confused, and elbowed aria in her side before looking down and mouthing “what?” to her. aria opened her mouth, before closing it and looking down at the ground, muttering to herself, “결합… 結合….. le chéile…. le… le.. oh oh - combined! we have to put them together, markie.”and thus, a new confusion meme was born

➣ RENJUN ☾ renjaria

renjun and aria room together while she’s promoting with dream

they were so awkward around each other at the beginning :(

only really spoke in passing, or when they had to

it was renjun that broke the ice at first, asking if she wanted to go shopping for the dorm together

now it’s their thing

“no aria, we can’t get more ice-cream we’re all supposed to be on diets.” “but  ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ please”

he’s lowkey soft for her but he’d rather throw himself off the roof then tell her that

piano pals

he started teaching her how to properly play once he found her messing around on a keyboard in the studio one day

they actually argue quite a bit

not about big things, but about smaller things that push each other over the edge because of stress

the first time he yelled at her, aria spent the night in hyuck’s room 

hyuck yelled at renjun for making her cry 

now they’re probably the best pairing for talking through their emotions instead of blowing up on each other

they’re both quite opinionated people, and they’ve learnt to navigate that well so fights don’t happen as often

does that stop renjun from teasing aria an within an inch of her life? absolutely not

“i’ll kill you” “can you, reach?” “LISTEN HERE-”

he acts like he’s 10ft tall, excuse you sir you are barely 5′6″

renjun was her mandarin teacher for a while, but then kun kindly told her that her “introduction” was actually calling herself an idiot 

aria has a bad problem with saesangs go away bitches and renjun is iconic for going off on them for her because she doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it all 

he gets so angry on her behalf

that was actually a topic of one of their biggest arguments smh

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

aria was leaning on a pile of books to prop herself up as she leant forwards to try and hang a string of lights on her bedroom wall. renjun walked in, and immediately came to her aid, speaking with a teasing tone. “need a hand?” 

aria, without ceremony just elbowed him in the stomach and used his then folded up figure to push herself up higher. “yes, thank you!”

she got hate for that one, but it was all in good fun and renjun was laughing after it

➣ JENO ☾ nori

aria is his princess and everyone else can fight him

like they’re both doyoung’s children, but if it comes down to it he will lay down his life for her

and not even in a romantic way, just a “you’re too precious i have to protect you” kind of way

czennies thought he was in love with her for the entirety of nct 2018 promotions

this boy was hanging off of her at any given second, and there was an edited video of jeno “glaring” at lucas’ back when the taller boy walked away after hugging aria

it was faked, stan twt needs to chill out

he drags her to the gym 

he’s basically her big brother? but they’re the same age - its a weird dynamic but they make it work

they’re so LOUD together

not chaotic, but he makes her laugh so hard 

vlive 191030: “nono-ah makes my cheeks hurt so i can’t spend too long around him. my sides hurt too ~  ♡(｡- ω -)”

any and all fanfictions written about the two are definitely either coffee shop, university or library AUs

this man walks like a bodyguard around her - boy got the arm over the shoulder, tucked her head into him, covering her face, its a whole ordeal

dispatch released some pictures of aria one day and accidentally blurred out jeno’s face because they thought he was her bodyguard 

is so. so mindful of how long aria spends in the training rooms

like, yes everyone else expects her home before midnight (long story)

but jeno actively makes sure to ask people what time she left the dorm at, and texts her to remind her to take water breaks and to come home at a good time so she can sleep 

these two are the creators of so many iconic vlives - they have a bad habit of going live at 1 or 2 in the morning, just doing random things

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT.

“hi hi! so, nono and i- jeno stop it, stop it! - nono and i are walking down to the park to go feed the birds - yes we’re going to feed the bird- no! we are not going to feed the ducks, bread can kill the ducks! why did you bring brea-”

jeno pulled the camera from aria’s hands. “ari and i,” he looked at her purposefully, “are going back to the dorms because someone forgot to bring the bird seed, and apparently we can’t give bread to ducks anymore.”

*sounds of aria intermittently hitting and scolding jeno ensue*

➣ DONGHYUCK ☾ arichan

the other half of the best friend crew

absolute heathens to be around when they are together

donghyuck is the person aria is closest to, and someone she’d call her best friend (only when she was sure he wouldn’t hear her)

she calls him “the demon child i can’t get rid of” but will, and has definitely pouted when he ignored her for too long

generally aria is a pretty soft spoken person, but not with hyuck around - he brings out all her chaos energy (please pray for the patience of dotae)

the pair have a little tradition of kissing the back of each others’ hands before going on stage for good luck. they can’t even remember how it started, but now its an unnegotiable pre-show ritual

he’s so clingy with her absolutely everywhere its painfully adorable  (ಥ﹏ಥ)

interviews? hyuck has a hand on her knee, or if she’s wearing a skirt he’s tucked his hand in between their chairs so she can hold it discreetly. in the dorms? full body tackle onto the couch, where he proceeds to lay on top of her completely.

because of hyuck’s nickname being the sun, and aria always being around him, czennies gave her the nickname “moon” to go with him

fans thought that aria was older than hyuck for a good year and a half before she released her birthday on a vlive, because she’s normally the one tasked with reigning his chaotic energy in during promotions (that is, if she hasn’t already joined him)

but off-camera, aria is absolutely hyuck’s baby there is no disputing that. aria’s sad?he’s there with ice-cream and a blanket and a baseball bat.

the winnie the pooh character that is on aria’s bed was a gift from hyuck for her 17th birthday, after she made him watch seven episodes of the show on netflix with her one night

yes he complained, but he slapped her hand away when she went to change it to something else

a twitter thread of a czennie comparing their horoscopes together went viral when people realized that it was quite plausible that the pair were each others (platonic) soulmates

after an incident involving blueberries, donghyuck took it upon himself to check the ingredients of every. single. food item in their dorm to make sure it was ok for her to eat

hyuck clowns her for her irish accent, and aria curses him out in japanese

tldr: they cute or whatever

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

donghyuck was doing a vlive in his bedroom, sitting and talking to czennies when aria opened the door to his room quietly. she didn’t say anything, just waved slightly with almost closed eyes before she crawled underneath his covers and tucked her plushie underneath her chin. hyuck didn’t even blink at it - so it must have been a regular occurrence.

➣ JAEMIN ☾ nari

jaemin highkey flusters her

not in a oo you’re so cute, cute boy make nerves go eeee

but he’ll wink at her and teasingly compliment her and now she looks like a firetruck this isn’t fair

he absolutely takes advantage of this where ever possible 

“riri, can i have some?” “no, i just made these you should have helped me (-_-)” “riri~ but you looked so cute making them i didn’t want to interrupt you~” *aria.exe has stopped responding*

but when aria isn’t trying to get her cheeks to stop being red, they’re really cute together 

you’d swear aria is older, by how much jaemin whines for her attention

the mighty battles between jaemin and hyuck

hyuck’s just biding his time for the rooftop fight

kinda panics around her when she’s crying, but is always the first to offer up a hug 

has a period tracker on his phone but no one knows about it 

he doesn’t like to coddle her because they’re so close in age, but that doesn’t stop him from getting protective in certain situations *cough cough the fansign cough cough*

jaemin and aria cuddling when they’re drunk? more likely than you’d think

he definitely professed his undying love for her at one point while being drunk, and chenle caught it on video 

“noona we’re playing that at your wedding” 

designated blanket/pillow hunter at award shows, and if he can’t find one then he usually just gives her his jacket

the amount of coffee these two consume should be illegal 

aria prefers to call him nana and he prefers to call her riri in the dorms, so when either of them get called by their first name by the other it means A: they’re on a schedule, or B: someone’s about to die

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

nct dream on idol room were trying out jaemin’s death-in-a-cup (his coffee) and as the cup got passed around, aria grew more and more concerned with each face the members made. “jaemin if i die from this-”

he only smiled at her while passing over the cup. aria held it up to look at the black liquid skeptically, before sighing in resignation and bringing the cup to her lips to take a sip. 

and then another.

“wait this is good i like this”

➣ CHENLE ☾ leri

hide yo kids and hide yo wives because leri is entering the chat

*cue aria and chenle wearing 2000s rapper clothes with backwards baseball caps*

these two are so chaotically calm

its like the energy cancels out or something 

aria with hyuck is just so loud and obnoxious, and the same with chenle with jisung

so when you put those two together it just turns into le positive vibes

you ever meditated to those 132 hertz sounds? thats them in a sound 

aria will hold him like a baby kitten she’s expecting to try wriggle out of her grip at any moment and its comical because he’s a good head taller than her

aria definitely has a knack for making her groupmates’ parents fall in love with her

every two weeks or so she goes for dinner in chenle’s house upon his mother’s request

they have a mutual understanding of the mental toll it takes to be around the rest of the dreamies constantly

chenle and aria sitting peacefully, watching a cdrama: 

the dreamies, throttling each other: AAAAAAAAAAA

will never admit it but he misses her the most when she goes away to promote

he thinks of her as a big sister and the dorms feel empty without her there

aggressive proud hugs 

so aggressive, he legit tackles her

he had to tone it down after knocking her over once backstage and she narrowly missed clocking herself on a nearby soundboard 

“YAH ZHONG CHENLE YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL!”

he always gets a little bit anxious when they eat things outside of the dorms because he’s never seen her have an allergic reaction before and he’d like to keep it that way  (`皿´＃)

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

chenle was particularly restless that day, constantly shuffling about in his seat to the point where renjun forcefully tossed an arm over his shoulders to hold him still while the vlive was still playing.

not one to be defeated, chenle then turned to press his lips to renjun’s cheek playfully, laughing when the older boy turned away in disgust. he turned to do the same to aria, coming closer to her cheek before aria turned her head to face his.

“AAA-” “EW CHENLE WHY”

➣ JISUNG ☾ jiri

oh god oh god oh god

if aria could take this boy and wrap him in a blanket and keep him in her pocket she would - no questions asked 

jisung knows she loves him the most out of dream sorry markhyuck and takes advantage of it every second

she used to coddle him a lot when he was smaller, but now that he’s older aria tries to rein it in as much as possible

that doesn’t mean it goes away completely though

“noona can you cook for me?” “of course jisungie! what do you want?” 

*jeno gobsmacked in the background* “you just told me you were too tired to cook tonight”

aria: big baby, must protect

jisung: tiny noona, must protect

jaemin and aria are really the only people jisung is ok with seeing him be super emotional - and he flip flops between the two depending on the reason why he’s emotional

self-esteem, feeling poopy side of it all? straight into aria’s bed, letting her roll him onto his side so she can tuck his head into her shoulder and covers the two of them with her duvet the way she used to do when he was shorter

this boy cannot curse around her unless he wants to get his ass Beat

dancing bros

they go so hard in their NCT Dance duet videos 

he keeps band-aids in his bag for her in exchange for her keeping an extra bottle of water in hers because jisung always forgets his own

jisung rests his elbow on her head a lot

but only briefly because the last time he stayed there for too long she stamped on his foot

tldr: aria is jisung’s emotional support gnome

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENT. 

jisung and aria were doing the chicken leg battle (this one) to fight for first dibs on the rooms they were going to be sharing for the next week or so. just before they were about to start, mark started laughing and pointing at how high jisung’s leg came up on aria’s, with aria’s knee barely hitting jisung’s mid-thigh

“this is an unfair advantage! this is cheating!”

[solastia]

Say You Won’t Let Go | 5

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin x Seokjin

Word Count: 6,721

Warnings: Violence, referenced omega abuse, minor character death

Author Note: My lack of battle knowledge shows, I'm afraid. I kinda rushed through it because I couldn't figure out how to make it sound interesting lmao. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter of a story that is taking way too long to write! I'll try to get the next one out faster, especially since I know y'all just want to see what goes down during Jimin's heat.

PLEASE don't fill up my comments with nothing but, "OH MY GOD YOU UPDATED!" Y'all guilt trip me worse than my mama

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A light mist showered over the training grounds, making the ground beneath them soggy. He knew if anyone would slip in the mud it would be him, so he watched the ground with careful eyes as he walked around assessing his troop’s progress.

Namjoon cracked his neck as he silently watched his villagers learning to defend themselves. He knew that if this really turned into a war they would be at a disadvantage, as they’d admittedly gone a bit soft. It had been nearly a hundred years since the last big tribe war, and they’d focused on advancing their village rather than fighting for more land.

He turned towards the direction that would take him home, sniffing in vain for some hint of his mate. He knew he wouldn’t be able to smell him this far away, but it didn’t stop him from wishing.

When his thoughts weren’t taken over by worries, they were occupied by thoughts of his sweet little mate. His Jimin, who was no doubt at home going crazy with worry and stress. He had no doubt that Jimin would do his best to protect their people, he just hoped someone was looking out for him. He’d try to do everything himself if someone didn’t force him to delegate.

He probably should have made some sort of arrangements for Seokjin as well, he thought sheepishly. He hoped the man would be doing alright in a village where he knew literally no one. He was also relieved when he realized his thoughts of the man no longer felt influenced by alpha instincts or needs of any kind. His claim was settled and he was free to consider the man with a rational frame of mind.

Truthfully, there was nothing much for him to consider. The omega seemed nice enough, and sure he was attractive, but Namjoon felt nothing when he tried to picture the man naked to assess his reaction. Well, nothing beyond the guilt that he felt knowing what another omega looked like underneath him. He’d always been a one-person man and it just wasn’t in him to consider even trying to force himself to think of Seokjin romantically. Friends, maybe. Sure.

Besides, his Jiminie was a needy little thing and wrung every drop of affection that was in Namjoon to give.

He smiled again, his thoughts once more on his mate. How he adored the man. He had been perfectly content to live out his days without pups and pass on his title to one of his nephews. Sadly, it appeared as though his mate had been correct in thinking that their childless state posed a challenge that others couldn’t pass up.

Theirs was a fertile land that they’d been cultivating for several generations now. It was almost unheard of for packs to truly settle in one spot, but they had been lucky enough to find such a lush land to call their own. Good soil, healthy and plentiful game, clean rivers and lakes - even their huge mountain was worthy of envy, as it provided so much protection and resources. The friendly human village that was always happy to trade with them was something to go to war for all by itself.

He sighed and turned his attention back to his men, observing their progress. Yoongi was a brutal trainer - merciless and always seeking perfection. Normally, he wouldn’t have given him such free reign but he’d decided that his right hand’s brand of tough love was what they needed the most at the moment. They didn’t have the luxury of time.

He’d sent a messenger to the Kim’s tribe, figuring him marrying into them should provide reason enough for them to send him more warriors. He had no faith that a message to get there and forces sent in enough time to help them with a battle if it came to that - it was rather a backup plan. In case they should fall, perhaps the sent warriors could at the very least save the pack they’d left behind.

The sound of feet running through puddles reached his ear and he swirled around to catch one of his scouts rushing towards him. The man was running so fast he couldn’t stop in time to prevent him from slipping into the damp ground. Namjoon reached out a hand and hauled the man up, narrowing his eyes as they met the frantic ones of his best scout.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“They’re here!” The man panted. “They didn’t go through the western forest as we thought. We suspect they went downriver instead. They’re already here, Alpha.”

Namjoons’ heart dropped right to his stomach. They weren’t ready. They weren’t…

Gentle hands pried his fingers from his hair and Yoongi’s sharp eyes bored into him. “Joon?”

“They’re already here. They’re…” He turned to his scout. “Where exactly are they, Yuen?”

“I spotted them setting up camp next to the cliffs.”

“Shit,” Yoongi hissed. “That’s only a twenty-minute walk from here.”

Namjoon hung his head, reaching up to rub his suddenly aching eyes.

“We have no choice but to be ready. Yoongi, Round up the men. Collect three of your best to be added to our personal party. We move out the moment you’re ready.”

Yoongi nods briskly and turns to roar orders. Namjoon spots Jungkook and waves him over. The younger alpha jogs to him and Namjoon grabs his shoulders.

“You are not going to like this, but…”

Jungkook interrupts him, “I’m not staying behind.”

“You are ,” he nods firmly, Jungkook’s mouth opening again to argue. He shakes his head, effectively shutting him up.

“I’m not going to make you stay right here, just in the back of the men. If things go south, I need you to be ready to run back to the village immediately. I’m not saying this because you’re weak - in fact, if I could I would have you up there with me and Yoongi because you’re better than both of us. It’s because I trust that you would be able to reach the village before any of our enemies could get there and save our people. Save our mates.”

Jungkook bows his head and softly asks, “You really think it’s going to go that way?”

Namjoon shrugs. “Dunno, Gukkie. I’ve certainly never dealt with this any more than the rest of us have. I just figured our best chance of survival is to expect the worst and hope for the best.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll stay back there?”

Jungkook nods then shakes his overly long hair with a grin. “Besides, your other option is probably Yoongi and it would take him two years to power walk back to the village.”

“Brat,” Namjoon chuckles fondly, pushing the man away from him. “Help him get everyone going.”

Jungkook nods and runs off, plowing into Yoongi’s back instead of stopping properly. Namjoon shakes his head and turns to sniff the air again in vain. He missed Jimin fiercely.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Once assembled, their party made good time reaching the cliffs. Namjoon decided their best course of action was to simply walk up to the outsider’s camp and demand answers. In fact, their leader most likely expected that since Namjoon would be well within his rights to do so. They were “visitors” on his land, after all.

Once their camp came into view, Namjoon paled, momentarily stunned. They had brought so many warriors, all of them painted and well-armed. This was definitely no negotiation party.

He forced himself to calm and pulled his shoulders back, bringing himself to full height and allowing his scent to permeate the air around him until even his own men were gritting their teeth against the blatant demand for submission. He gathered Yoongi and several of the warriors that he’d picked to surround him and strode forward.

He noticed several scouts and lookouts stand to attention but they made no move to stop him, nor to run back to their camp to inform their leader. Either they were in too much shock or…

“Ah, there you are, pup.”

A man stood in the center of their camp surrounded by several burly warriors with axes strapped to their backs. The man himself was armed with a massive club strapped to his hip and a bow on his back. He was stocky, not in very good shape, and was probably around the same age as his father. His scent indicated he was Pack Alpha, but it was sour, tinged with age and some sickness underneath.

“You are the Yang Alpha, I presume,” he inquired with as much politeness as he could manage.

“Indeed, my boy. Come join me by the fire. I’ve come for a little…chat.”

“You will speak to him with respect,” Yoongi growled, his hand tightening on a dagger strapped to his thigh.

The Yang Alpha chuckled, waving them forward. “What a loyal little beta you have there.”

Namjoon simply nodded and waved Yoongi down. He could tell what sort of man this was already. Nothing he said was going to have much of a difference. He already thought he was superior to them simply because of his age - and perhaps his warriors who have no doubt seen many battles.

He followed behind the Yang guards as they led them to their central fire and sat on the offered log. Yoongi stayed standing at his right and his other guards gathered behind him.

The Alpha proceeds to act like they weren’t even there, picking up his meal that he must have set aside earlier and tearing into a chicken leg. Namjoon startles at that for a moment, trying not to let his worry show. Unless this man’s war party traveled with a bunch of chickens, they had been in Namjoon’s village. Someone had snuck in and spied on them, and now he was eating the stolen chicken right in front of him like a taunt.

Namjoon clears his throat, willing his body to appear unbothered.

“I’m sure you are aware of why I’m here. State your business on my lands.”

The Alpha belches and licks his fingers clean, smacking his lips with satisfaction. He tosses the bone into the fire and only then does he see fit to look at Namjoon in the eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling in a mocking smile.

“Ah, pup. No need for aggression. I’m simply here to look out for my neighbors,” the man shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d heard of your… troubles even across in my land so I thought I should come and lend a hand.”

“And what kind of hand do you think we need?” Namjoon asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

“Ah, well. At first, I thought I’d give you one of my daughters. I have far too many of them anyway and their mothers were all certainly fertile as rabbits,” he smacks his tongue against his teeth and sighs. “Then I got a real good look at this land. Fertile soil, steady water supply, a village full of hard little workers.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches as he waits for the inevitable. “Uh-huh…”

The alpha shrugs again and drawls, “And then I thought the best hand I could lend is my own. You’re a young pup and I’m sure you’re trying your best, but with a land like this to protect and your line unsecured, well…” he waves around. “Half of these warriors are my own sons. My line will be secure for hundreds of years. Figured I’d do your people a favor.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, wiling his alpha down. He desperately wanted to just lunge and tear the man’s throat out, but he knew he needed to be smarter than that.

The other Alpha snaps his fingers and bellows for wine. A moment later the scent of omega hit Namjoon’s unsuspecting nose. Why would the man have omegas in his war party?

The omega was male and jogged towards the Alpha with a full cup of sour-scented wine, and somehow doesn’t trip despite his eyes never leaving the ground beneath him. Namjoon felt his anger somehow grow further when he took in the state of the omega - the way his ribs poked out as though it had been far too long since he’d seen a good meal, the bruises that mottled his skin from head to toe, the state of his wrapping that barely covered him and was hardly in good enough shape to be considered a cleaning rag. The omegas scent was muted, as though the body was trying its best to protect itself. However, it was still enough for Namjoon to catch the hint of bright citrus hiding behind the muted emotions. He’s never seen an omega treated in such a way. They were to be protected and cherished, not treated as though they were even lower than the chubby dogs sitting on either side of the Alpha leader.

Suddenly, he noticed that Yoongi had gone deathly still at his side and he glanced up, noting the stricken expression on his second’s face. He knew full well that Yoongi hid a bleeding heart underneath all his gruffness, but he didn’t think this was what that was. Yoongi began to growl and he watched in disbelief as the omega’s nose twitched and he slowly glanced up to stare at Yoongi in wonder.

“I see your beta has his eye on my bitch. Reaching a bit far there, eh? Even a male omega is  too high above a beta ,” he laughed cruelly, spitting out the designation like a slur.

Namjoon observed the pair curiously then turned back to the alpha. He figured his best bet for getting out of here safely was to distract the man from what he thought was happening.

“What are your terms for leaving without a fight?”

The man guffawed, a bit of spittle flying in the air. “No fight? Impossible, my boy. Unless you were willing to sit there and let me end you here and now, of course.”

Yoongi managed to tear his gaze from the omega long enough to growl at the man. The alpha simply sneers and grabs the omega by his hair and tugs him down to his knees in front of him. He runs his hands through the tangled auburn locks, silently mocking Yoongi.

“What, have you imprinted on him? Is he your precious little mate? Too bad. He’s mine. In fact, I’ve been thinking about breeding him since my last bitch is about to burst. Gotta give the new pup a friend, eh?”

Yoongi’s hand tightened around his dagger and pulled it halfway out of its sheath before Namjoon was able to place a restraining hand on his arm. He shakes his head and Yoongi lowers his hand, near-silent growls vibrating his whole body.

“I can see that there is no peaceful solution to be had with you, therefore I’m issuing you an official challenge. I will give you this evening to pack up and leave. If not, we will meet you at dawn and it will be a fight.”

Namjoon stood and placed a comforting hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, squeezing gently to urge him to fight his instincts. The man may have been a beta, but he was more alpha than many born to it.

He observed helplessly as the omega watched them leave, first soft whimpers then omega keening the further they got. The sound broke even his heart - he could only imagine how Yoongi felt.

They left the camp with Yoongi ahead of him and guards surrounding them both. He stared at his best friends overly straight back as he marched forward - no sign of the normal casual slouch that he was practically known for.

“Hyung, I doubt they are going to leave. There’s going to be a battle and I promise you that we’ll get him out. Do you trust me?”

Yoongi’s shoulders release the tiniest bit of tension, though not enough. “I hear you, Joon. I just…I can’t believe I finally found them. I found my mate and they…Joon. Did you fucking see him? He’s so beautiful but they…they hurt him. And he’s so scared. I’m a fucking beta and I could smell how terrified he was, that’s how bad it was. Who does that to an omega? A fucking monster, that’s who. You shoulda let me gut him, Joon. I coulda fixed it all right there.”

“And then his entire war party would have descended on us immediately and we would have been wiped out.”

Yoongi grunts and hangs his head.

“Hey, Joon?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you scent him?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, it was a bit muted cuz he’s been traumatized I think. Can happen when a body is trying to protect it…but underneath it all, he kinda smelled like those oranges you always carry in your pockets.”

Yoongi snapped his head up to stare at him in wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah. If I can smell it that well even though his body is trying to mute it, it’s probably going to be strong enough for even you to scent when we get him well again.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi was smiling like a dope, and Namjoon chuckled silently. It was a new look for his friend but it suited him. Yoongi finally finding his mate was at least one good thing to come out of all this madness. The man had long ago resigned himself to living without one despite everyone assuring him that it would happen eventually.

Namjoon sighed and watched the sun lower itself on the horizon. The symphony of oranges, reds and blues usually brought a smile to his lips, but this night it merely made him anxious.

“Yoongi, make sure every man we have is alert tonight. Lookouts especially, but I don’t think anyone should sleep tonight.”

“You think they are bastards enough to attack in the middle of the night…” he pauses and curses, answering his own question. “Of course they are. I’ll let everyone know.”

Namjoon nods and faces the horizon again.

They’d make it through this - they had to.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

They’d put out the fires hours ago and simply waited. Many of the men that weren’t as proficient with weapons had shifted already, preferring to rely on their wolves in battle instead. Namjoon had chosen not to. He wanted to be standing tall and meet the old bastard face to face when he cut him down for threatening his people and upsetting his mate. Because of pathetic Alphas like this one, his mate had felt worthless enough to demand they add another to their home - to his bed - just to protect their village. He was furious that Jimin had been proven right.

Yoongi silently stalked towards the large rock that Namjoon perched on, his black form blending into the dark of the night perfectly. He jumped up and settled next to him, his ears standing tall and following every sound. He slightly bumped against Namjoon, a familiar motion that made him sigh.

“I’m good, just...angry. We haven’t bothered anyone in at least a hundred years. We have no desire to go around stealing land and killing people. Yet, just because we haven’t been able to have a pup we are suddenly deemed weak and unworthy? It’s so old-fashioned and just...barbaric. Because of this way of thinking I had to hurt three people - myself fucking included - by adding another person to my marriage just for his potential ability to breed. What happens if he can’t have pups either? What the hell am I expected to do then?”

His breathing is growing more erratic the more upset he gets and he clenches his fists tightening, whispering all of his hurts into the night.

“I...Yoongi...this has been so hard for me too. I know that everyone feels bad for Jimin and like, he’s been trying to keep it together in front of me, but I’m hurting too. I’ve never wanted anyone besides him. I’ve known since I was a kid that he was the love of my life. And like, every time we got pregnant I was both elated and terrified because it hurt me to lose the pups....but I was always afraid of losing him more. It just got worse and worse every time he lost them. That last time when I got home...he was laying on the ground surrounded by blood...I thought that was it. And if he died, I would follow him, Yoongi. Pack or not.”

The beta whines quietly and rubs his nose against Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Having Seokjin around is hard now, too. I’d forgotten about how strong the alpha instinct is to mark when you complete the ceremony. I had this idea that I’d...I don’t know. Hand him a cup full of jizz or something and let him take it from there,” he laughs self-deprecatingly. “I don’t feel anything for him besides curiosity and I hope that we’ll be able to be friends at least. I just...I feel so bad and guilty. And I just…” Namjoon sniffled and wiped at his dampening eyes. “I don’t even know if I’m making sense right now, hyung. Everything is so scrambled up there and now I have this...fucking war shit. I’m tired and I just want to go home and nest with Jimin.”

A tiny lick on Namjoon’s cheek was his only answer, but it was enough for now. He laughs softly, wiping another stray tear.

“Thanks, Yoon. Love you too.”

He sighs and leans back, staring up at the stars above him. He really was emotionally exhausted. When all of this was over - if he even survived it - he was making his father take over for a while while he took a nice vacation. He decided the least his village could do for him after everything he’d sacrificed recently was not bother him while he got his life with his mate back on track.

Yoongi suddenly stiffened next to him, bringing him to attention. He heard it next - a rustle of leaves and the occasional crunch of someone stepping on an acorn or some other debris.

They were here.

He could see them now, the red and gold eyes of the shifted warriors stalking through the trees. He sniffed the air, waiting for the leader to make himself known. Even as his own men threw themselves in front of him, effectively blocking any foolish enough to attack him directly, he waited…and waited.

He wasn’t showing up.

Namjoon lowly growled at the cowardice of the man. He was brave enough to trek across the land and try to steal from his pack, but fighting his own battles was asking far too much, apparently.

At his signal, his men leap forward and attacked the foreign warriors. There was no need for frills and banners - he simply wanted them gone. Yoongi was still sticking close to him, but his nose too was searching the air for the absent leader.

Namjoon bellowed his rage as he watched some of his people fall, the enemy ruthless with their kills. Hundreds of warriors fought in the makeshift battlefield, the ferocious growls and pained cries imprinting themselves into Namjoon’s nightmares for years to come. Jungkook was thankfully following instructions and staying as far from the front line as possible, but still managed to make a few kills. Trusting that the boy was safe for now, he throws himself further into the fray, his skills with a sword untried and rusty but enough to fight off shifted warriors for now.

Suddenly, Yoongi howls and leaps away from him, running forward at a speed that Namjoon didn’t even know he had in him. He cursed and shifted to follow behind, fearing that Yoongi had seen Jungkook in trouble or something equally horrifying. His confusion grew as Yoongi sailed right past the battlefield and kept going towards the enemy camp. He tried to bark orders to stop so he could get an explanation, but Yoongi either didn’t hear him or refused to obey because he only went impossibly faster, his sleeker form streaking through the trees and making it difficult for Namjoon’s wolf to keep up. While he was the biggest wolf the village had seen in years, he lacked any sort of agileness or grace. Usually, it wasn’t that much of a problem, but Yoongi charging into an enemy camp without backup would be.

When the cliffside camp finally came into view, Yoongi went charging past the guards and Namjoon was still a few leagues behind, having already tripped three times and leaving dirt and twigs clinging to his platinum-hued fur.

Nearly panting with effort, he too ignored the threats of the guards and trotted to where Yoongi stood growling at the Yang Alpha. The man had the omega they’d seen earlier held to the dirt-packed ground with a foot on his back, the rotting wrap that had been his only piece of clothing nowhere to be seen. There was a group of leering men standing around in a circle around the scene like it was simply entertainment. The rest of the pack continued with their duties all around the camp like this was a usual occurrence. Namjoon averted his eyes to give the omega some respect, keeping them glued to the offending alpha instead as he and Yoongi slowly shifted forms.

He unfurled and looked down his nose at the flabby alpha, towering over the now raging man. His fetid breath swirled in the air as he cursed Namjoon and Yoongi for their interruption.

Namjoon rumbled and stalked closer, uncaring of his nakedness as he postured. He had nothing to be ashamed of after all - especially next to this failure of a man. This man who bullied and abused omegas, who attacked peaceful packs unprovoked, who didn’t even have the balls to join the fight he had started.

“I was waiting for you, Yang. You were nowhere to be found. You aren’t backing out, are you?” Namjoon asked in a mocking tone, drawing the alpha’s attention to him and away from the beta who was now guarding the omega from view.

“Hardly,” the old man guffawed, vile spittle flying. “I thought instead it would be amusing to breed my bitch while his mate was being gutted. Poetic.”

Namjoon felt his growl rise to the surface like molten lava. “Instead, you are going to die.”

“Sorry, pup. Not this day.”

The old alpha waved at the group of warriors that had been standing around like spectators and they quickly shoved the man behind them and faced Namjoon.

There was nothing pretty about the way he fought his way through them. He simply forced his way through to the alpha with a brutal viciousness he didn’t even know he possessed. Two of the men were bashed together with so much force he was almost certain he broke them. Several others were shredded with half-extended claws and his canines. Before he knew it the ground around him was littered with bodies and only one remained between him and his prey.

“Please,” the man - no, he was practically a boy. No more than fifteen he thought. “He told me to watch. I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to come here. He’s…”

“Shut up, you sniveling whelp,” the alpha grunted and shoved a dagger into the boy’s heart from behind.

Namjoon reached forward and caught the boy as he fell, staring into the bewildered eyes of the youth as he died in his arms. He lay him gently on the ground next to the other men and stared at the alpha with disgust.

“He was your own son , you monster!”

Namjoon’s eyes whirled to meet the hate-filled ones of the omega, who was now free of his bindings and glaring at the Yang alpha like he was a maggot he’d just found in his meal.

“He was weak,” the Yang alpha grunted derisively. “Was always telling me he didn’t want to fight or breed. Useless whelp wanted to be a healer like his bitch of a mother.”

The man seemed to suddenly realize he was out of shields when he peeked over at Namjoon then ran straight for the omega. Yoongi had begun to leap forward to block him, instead, the omega pushed him away and let the alpha grab him.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi’s voice was filled with hurt and confusion, and Namjoon didn’t blame him one bit. They were trying to save him - save everyone. Why would he let the crazed alpha have him?

“It’s alright. I belong to him. Don’t I, alpha?” the omega crooned, his voice like liquid honey.

“That’s right. You and everything we see are mine. It’s all mine,” the alpha nearly whispers as he pulls the omega’s back to his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Namjoon could see it now. The madness lurking behind the alpha’s near-crazed frantic eyes. There was something wrong with the man, and he suddenly remembers the sour scent when he’d first met him.

The omega releases a loud purr and allows the alpha to bury his face into the crook of his neck, his scent suddenly pouring out as if he’d just popped off the cap. Namjoon observes with trepidation as the omega seems to be slowly making the Yang alpha walk backward, his eyes locked with Yoongi’s as he allows his scent to fill the air for the first time in what must have been years.

“Omega, what are you doing?” Yoongi asks pleadingly, his hands out towards the man even as tears begin to fall from his eyes. Namjoon knows his friend must be overwhelmed right now - he was just able to fully scent his mate for the first time, as well as any alpha or omega would have.

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he croons soothingly, petting the alpha still buried against his neck. “I’m going to make it all better.”

Namjoon has a horrible feeling in his gut as he finally notices how close they are getting to the edge of the cliff. There was nothing on the other side but a rocky ravine and if they should fall…

“Omega, come to me now,” he growled, trying to infuse as much alpha voice as he could into the command.

The man’s eyes glazed over slightly, but he squared his shoulders and shook his head. Namjoon was amazed at the man’s strength.

“I’m going to end this now.”

The omega suddenly turned in the alpha’s grip and placed both of his hands on the man’s chest.

“This is for my mother, for me, and for every other life you’ve terrorized.”

With a firm push, he sends the alpha tumbling off the cliff edge. The garbled yell as the scent-drunk man finally realizes what is happening to him reaches their ears, but neither Namjoon nor Yoongi go to watch the scene. Namjoon certainly didn’t want to have that image in his mind. The omega, however, stands there staring in silence, until a final thud signals the alpha’s fate.

He turns and faces the remaining members of the Yang pack as they all stare with expressions varying between horror and satisfaction.

“According to your own rules that state anyone who defeats pack alpha takes control, I am now leader of the pack. My first and only orders will be that anyone who wishes to leave the pack may do so now without fear of retribution. Everyone else will go back to the main village and stay there, never to come this way again. And finally, I am stepping down as leader immediately and leaving it to Kwon Jiyong.”

A quiet mild-smelling alpha that Namjoon had hardly noticed before glanced up sharply at the claim.

“Me?”

“Yes,” the omega nodded decisively. “You are one of the few that actually treats everyone well and has been strong against the corruption of this pack. You did what you could to help even when you were one man against hundreds. I don’t know how many times you’ve tended my wounds when alpha said to let them fester or snuck us food when we were being punished yet again. No one else here is more worthy of the title than you.”

“I…” the alpha gulped, staring nervously at all the gazes now on him. “I’ll do my best.”

The omega nodded and strode through the crowd with as much grace as a king of old, and seemingly uncaring of his nudeness or the battered state of his body. He walks right up to Yoongi and places his hands on his hips, cocking his head as he studies the beta.

“I’m Jung Hoseok,” he finally says with a tiny smile.

“I’m Min Yoongi,” he murmurs back, unable to tear his eyes from the omega.

The omega’s smile grows and his scent is once again swirling around them so strongly Namjoon is almost embarrassed. At least the man smelled good - mostly like the little oranges that Yoongi always ate, but with a few deeper notes that brought to mind a bright summer’s day. It was so strong that it was a good thing the man seemed to have a handle on muting it when he needed to, but he knew that it was a blessing for Yoongi. He could actually scent his mate - something he’d never believed he could do. He would be able to scent his mate’s emotions and health, bond properly...Namjoon nearly wanted to cry he was so happy for his friend.

Yoongi snaps his eyes away from the omega and suddenly starts to look around, frantically searching for something.

A tall beta quietly walks up to them and tears off his long crimson tunic, standing in nothing but worn leather wrappings. He offers it to the omega with a shy quirk of his lips.  

“It’s clean and has no scent, so it should last you until you find something better.”

The omega seems to gladly accept it and throws it on immediately, the fabric nearly reaching his shins.

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” Hoseok grins and the beta slinks back away as quiet as before.

“He’s not one of the ones that hurt you?” Yoongi grunted.

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, sighing. “He’s a craftsman - makes and repairs our weapons. Jiyong will probably make him his right-hand man.”

The three of them stand there awkwardly for a moment as the remaining members of the war party seem to ignore them for the most part and begin preparations to leave.

“So,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Are you coming with us or staying with them?”

“Oh,” the omega blushes, glancing at Yoongi. “I was waiting to see what he wanted. Do you...want me to come with you?”

“YES!” Yoongi blurted, then cleared his throat and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I mean, sure. If you want. Whatever.”

“Great! Let’s go!” Hoseok laced his arm with Yoongi’s and tugged him along, leaving Namjoon - their pack alpha, mind you - trailing behind. Namjoon snorts to himself, thinking that his friend was about to have his life turned around more than he’d ever thought possible.

“Wow, you smell so good,” Hoseok suddenly purred, making Namjoon wish he could be anywhere else.

“Uh, that’s nice of you to say, but I’m beta. I don’t…”

“I can smell you, and I’m pretty sure you’re aware we’re mates so it’s probably because of that,” Hoseok chuckles, leaning down to take an exaggerated sniff of Yoongi’s neck.

The beta glanced up at him warily. “Yeah? What does it smell like?”

“Mmm, like fall.”

“What?” Yoongi scrunched his nose and even Namjoon leaned closer curiously to hear the explanation. He’d certainly never been able to scent Yoongi, and he’d known him all his life.

“Yeah, like...cinnamon and pine and maybe a hint of something else. It’s nice. Comforting.”

Yoongi’s shoulders went rigid and he fell silent. Years of studying his best friend gave him that the knowledge that the man was trying not to cry. He wanted to stop and hug him, but he also really wanted to hurry back to their own camp and put on some clothes.

Jungkook came running through the trees to meet them, thankfully bearing a bag full of clothing they always kept around for after a shift.

“Hyungs! Someone from the Yang side came through and stopped all the fighting. Said their alpha was dead and pulled everyone out. What happened?”

“Jung Hoseok here saved us all,” Namjoon reached up and grasped the omega’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Hoseok dropped his head shyly and blushed at the claim.

“Really? How?”

“Pushed the fucker right off a cliff,” Yoongi grunted with amusement. Hoseok squawks in dismay.

“Shit, that’s so cool. Are you coming back with us? My mate is a badass omega too - he’ll love you.”

“Yes,” Namjoon answered for the pair as they remained silent. “Hoseok and Yoongi are true mates. We need to get them back to the camp before their instincts take over. I’d also like to have a nice big meal for the evening to celebrate our victory and get some meat on his bones. Have a few of the men head out to hunt, please Gukkie?”

“On it, alpha!” Without another word he ran back the way he’d come, leaving Yoongi and Namjoon to quickly dress and continue their trek at a slower pace.

After a few more minutes of walking, Namjoon glanced over at Hoseok, studying him curiously.

“You know,” he finally says after a while. “You seem to be taking everything pretty well right now…” Namjoon was genuinely amazed at how strong this omega seemed to be. He’d just killed someone, left who knows how many years of abuse behind, has to be starving and cold - and yet he’s just grinning as he walks with Yoongi, swinging their linked arms like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Oh, believe me,” Hoseok chuckles. “I will be having a panic attack later, I can promise you that. There will be tears and crying and I probably will keep myself behind doors for a while,” he shrugs and glances over at Yoong with a fond smile. “I think I’m mostly alright at the moment because my omega is thrilled our mate is here. Kinda running high on pheromones and hormones right now.”

“Gotcha,” Namjoon shakes his head. “We’ll plan on the two of you...bonding...tonight, but we’ll have to pack up and head home tomorrow. It’s going to take a lot of work to get the village running smoothly again.”

The moment the camp is in sight Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. If he was being brutally honest, he hadn’t thought he’d see it again. Hadn’t thought he’d get to go home. But here he was and he was just so ready to get to his mate again.

“Alpha.”

“Ah, Jackson. Good to see you’re alright,” Namjoon smiled brightly at a favored member of his inner circle.

“Thank you, alpha. Good to see you lot make it out alright too. Just wanted to update you before you found your bed.”

“Great. You two go on ahead,” Namjoon gives Yoongi a friendly tap on the back. “Get your mate fed and seen to by our healers before you do anything.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbles, his cheeks nearly scarlet. Still, he grabs the omega’s hand and tugs him towards the central fire where the men are already prepping food for the evening meal.

He turns back to Jackson. “Report.”

“We have twenty-three men wounded, ten were killed. Arrangements have already been made to send the bodies home and we are doing what we can with the wounded. Most of their injuries can wait to be dealt with until we can take them home to healer Lily. A warrior came from the enemy encampment and informed everyone that the Yang alpha was dead and called the men back before we lost too many of our own.”

Namjoon sighs and thanks whoever would listen. He nods, “Thank you, Jackson. Go find your own rest. We pack up and head home tomorrow.”

Jackson grins and spins around, running back towards his personal group of friends. Namjoon sighs wearily and makes his way towards the tantalizing scent of roasting meat. He’d barely sat on a log before someone is shoving a bowl of food into his hands and he begins to eat automatically, just wanting the chore to be done so he could go to sleep. He stares at his friend Yoongi talking softly with his new mate while they fed each other bits of food like the disgusting saps he’d always suspected his friend would be.

One more night and he could start the journey home.

I’m almost there, Jiminie. I’m actually coming home to you, love.

[ahundredtimesover]

Friday Nights and Take-Out Drabble (2)

Your eyes are pretty... so are your lips.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that!

Warnings: foul language, heavy drinking 

Word count: ~1,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: Flashback to that first kiss! 

#

You close your eyes, inhale the cool night air from the half open window of the car, and release a breath. 

“That isn’t gonna magically sober you up, Y/N.”

You turn to your lap where Jungkook is lying, his smug face so beautiful you want to smack it. 

“I’m just appreciating the scent of Spring, Jungkook. It smells like flowers and food.”

He was about to retort something about you and food again, but he closes his eyes instead and enjoys the bit of wind he can feel from where he’s lying. 

He’s tired but content, that much you can see from his face. The second show of their Seoul concert just finished, which was followed by dinner and drinks with the guys. He offered to take you home after he convinced you to join them. “We’re leaving soon for the Asia leg and yeah,” he’d said, the words ‘I’ll miss you’ getting caught on his tongue.

You close your eyes too, enjoying the silence, recalling the show you’d just experienced. It wasn’t the first time you’d watched their concert - Jieun has dragged you to some - but it’s the first one with front row seats to see the guys at their happiest, performing truly something they’re all born to do. 

You suddenly remember Taehyung’s funny dance moves from earlier, Yoongi's flirting with the crowd, and Hoseok laughing so hard he fell. You chortled, earning you an amused look from Jungkook whom you thought had fallen asleep. 

You tell him this and he indulges you. You spend the remainder of the ride laughing, not just from tonight but also from the guys’ earlier days. It’s refreshing, you think, how unmistakably human they are, and how they’re not ashamed to share these parts of themselves with the world.

Jungkook figures this will help both of you sober up, so he gets out of the car as you do and continues talking. You look at him. “Come in?”

He nods, gets his keys from the driver, and walks with you to your apartment.

You’re a little wobbly, your beer and soju combo clearly not yet out of your system. You’re being cocky though, refusing to hold onto the stairs’ railing, insisting you’re fine. He stands behind you, arms ghosting your waist in case you fall. Which you do. You both explode in laughter. 

But he’s ready for this, has a self-awarded badge for taking care of you when you’re a little out of it. He lifts your right arm over his shoulder, his left holding onto your waist. He opens the door and you trip of course, no surprise there. 

You almost bring him down with you, but his strong arms hold you up. You cling onto him, hands now resting on his shoulders. 

“Your eyes are pretty,” you say dreamily.

He chuckles. Here you go again, complimenting his looks only when you’re drunk. “I’ve heard that before.”

“So are your lips.” 

His eyes go wide. 

“But they look so chapped and dry, though,” you say disappointingly. “You should put on lip masks every night.” 

“I’ll make sure to buy one tomorrow, then,” he replies, an amused look on his face. He’s definitely gonna give you shit for this tomorrow. 

“But they’re so nicely-shaped. Fits your face well,” you hum, staring at his lips so shamelessly. 

“Well thank you,” he giggles, trying to steady his voice.

“Can I kiss them?” 

You don’t see how hard he swallows. You’re very pretty, he can’t deny that, he just never tells you. He’d had drunk girls make similar proposals to him; he just never agrees.

But you’re looking at him so softly, so curiously, no ulterior motive hiding behind those almond brown eyes. You look so sweet. He doesn’t know if you’ll remember this in the morning. He doesn’t know if he wants you to or not. But he gives in. 

“Okay,” is all he says, a shy smile decorating his face. You don’t think you’ve ever studied his face like this before. You note the ridges of the scar on his cheek and the cute little dot underneath his mouth. You’re not as inebriated as he thinks; you’re more clumsy tonight than you are drunk. 

You smile and lean into him, puckering your lips just a tiny bit. The kiss is quick, delicate; you’re both unsure but willing. 

He tastes of cherry chapstick and beer. They’re not as parched as you expected, they’re actually quite soft. You smile at how he didn’t even try to disprove you like he always does.

Both your eyes remain open, enjoying the calm and relaxed look of the other. 

“It’s nice,” you mumble to him after you’ve both pulled away. 

He smiles at this. Maybe he does want you to remember this in the morning. “Thank you.”

“Not kidding about that lip mask though,” you tease. 

He laughs at this, but he’ll take it. 

You proceed to your nightly routine. A cup of tea later and he’s walking you to your room. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks. He reasons you might still be drunk, not wanting to admit he’s enjoying this more than he should. 

“If you can.”

“I can,” he assures you.

You both pass out that night, the kiss but a distraction to how tired you both really are, especially him. You wake up to the sound of rain the next morning, the sun just barely shining through your blinds. 

You look at the man sleeping next to you and how gentle he looks, a complete opposite of the one rolling his hips and revealing his abs from last night. A small laugh escapes you, causing him to wake up.

“Sorry, you look like a baby when you sleep,” you reason. 

“And you look like a troll,” he groggily responds.

“Ooh, harsh” you tease. 

In the silence, you look at each other. It’s amazing how in sync you think, as you both scoot closer, a light peck on the lips to complement the chilly weather, the words I’ll miss you getting caught on your throat. 

You laugh and drift to sleep again. When you wake up, he’s gone.

##

part 2 <<>> part 3

series masterlist

[boom-bakugou]

‘Message Recieved” - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: This is a gift for @mcchristinaconlinobeyme who wrote me lovely little fanfic in return 💖

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: Stalker-ish and abusive tendencies from reader’s father, Bakugou’s filthy language

Summary: You thought your villainous father was out of your life for good. Until the letters began to arrive.

Word Count: 2.5k

masterlist

It was little things at first. You couldn’t help but notice your name on flyers when you would go into the city. When men would bump into you in the street and before you had time to apologise they’d have run off without a trace. U.A. knew of your fathers history which is why they felt it necessary to have you be under more protection at school.

Though soon enough you just began to think that all those little occurrences were nothing but that, your plagued mind worrying yourself that something was bound to happen. But the teachers were taking care of you, nothing was going to change that.

Until the letters began to come.

Suspecting it was another student leaving small love letters out for you, you didn’t particularly pay much interest in it. The notes saying things like ‘Hello Y/N’ and ‘I’ve missed you a lot’. But one night as you were fading into sleep you heard the small drop of paper onto your balcony. Itching your eyes you feigned awakeness to try and see above you if someone was there and dropped it onto your balcony below. But all the lights were off on the floor above. Opening the envelope your blood ran cold, your feet stepping back until you tripped and landed with a heavy thud.

When are you going to come back home to me Y/N?

Nothing could stop the wave of tears from flowing down your face or the choked sobs falling out your mouth, you could’ve woken up the whole floor but you didn’t care as the shock settled in. You were doomed. It wasn’t until there were loud raps banging on your door that took you out of your swampy wallowing. You didn’t even wipe your face as you went to open the door, your hands shaking as you twisted the door handle- expecting to see your father there.

“Can you keep the noise down idiot some people are trying to slee-'' Bakugou stood in front of your door, hair disheveled from his rudely awoken slumber. “What’s up with you?

It wasn’t common knowledge for a lot of the students to know about your father since you had been placed under witness protection. The teachers felt it better that way also as a means for the other students to not think of you any differently from themselves.

“I need to see Mr Aizawa.” Your hands had unbeknownst to you; crushed the paper. You’d been safe for so long, why now? Why when you’re finally happy why does it have to crawl right back up to you?

“Yeah.” His answer was curt but he could see you not even taking the effort to move, or even look him in the eye. Bakugou knew something was immensely off. “Look. I’ll take you there.”

Bakugou’s hand finds the small of your back as he tries to guide you towards the elevator so you two could head to Aizawa’s room. Bakugou took a short glance at you while you waited in the elevator. He didn’t like seeing you like this, pale, sickly. And your eyes looked like they wanted to set that small piece of paper alight. Right now, he would give anything to take you out of how you’re feeling.

When you finally reach Aizawa’s dorm room, you don’t even lift an arm to knock so Bakugou proceeds for you. It takes a few moments for him to awaken and answer the door, his eyes gleaming with anger as to why you’re here.

“You two better have a good reason for being up on a school ni-.”

“I think my dad is trying to get me back.” You uttered.

It was the first time you spoke in that whole few minutes of making your way up the dorms and it felt like years of silence. Aizawa’s gaze lifted with a look of worry, asking you to continue.

“I didn’t really think about it at first, but I’ve seen things when I’ve been outside. Posters with my name on it and small threats. I figured it was just something dumb but it had to be him. A few nights ago I started getting these letters on my balcony, they were harmless so I thought one of the other students was playing a prank on me. Until I got this one.”

Your hand shakily lifted the crumpled envelope and Aizawa took it and scanned it over. Sighing as he prepared himself to speak.

“Do you think he’s trying to get you to join him in his criminal activity?” Aizawa asked, yet before you could speak Bakugou piped up; clearly confused by the interaction.

“Criminal activity? Y/N? Is someone going to tell me what’s happening here?” Bakugou did his best to keep the volume of his voice lowered but it still stuck out sharply in the empty halls. His hands crackling with annoyance as he struggled to understand the context.

“Bakugou that’s enough from you.” Aizawa’s eyes gleamed of his quirk and the small popping and smell of caramel soon dissipated. “You’ve heard enough now go back to your dor-“

“Actually Mr Aizawa, I’d prefer it if he stayed.” Your voice sounding slightly more confident than before, looking to Bakugou who’s shock rang in his eyes. He was just happy that you wanted him there. His defensive presence was almost… calming.

Aizawa acknowledged your wishes and asked you both to wait as he contacted the other teachers to be on the watch out for any disturbances on school grounds. He agreed that he’d take the night to keep watch but the teachers tomorrow would have to set up a schedule.

“Now I know you can handle yourself Y/N, but I’m trusting you Bakugou to make sure she gets to her dorm safely.” His eyes shot between the two of you, sympathy washing over you as he glanced at your sickly expression. “We’ll keep everyone safe.”

And with that Bakugou walked you both back to your dormitories. Not wanting to deal with the silence for any longer, Bakugou broke it with a sigh before speaking.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but your dads a villain?”

You nodded, you knew everyone would do their best but your father was sneaky, manipulative. He played games no one knew how, and it terrified you. Why hadn’t you seen it before? All the messages, the ways to get into your head. It was suddenly all at once eating you alive, the feeling of eyes all over your body.

“Thank you. For- staying with me.” You sigh, allowing yourself to be enveloped by the darkness of your room. Not even giving Bakugou a chance to say ‘you’re welcome’ as you shut your door. Sliding your curtains closed and double checking to make sure that everything was locked, you succumbed to a worrying slumber. The thought of your father in the front of your mind.

Throughout the days, things wore off. Your father clearly having taken a hint that security at UA had increased since his last letter. But nothing would stop him from having you back with him. And that was when the text messages started.

‘You know the fates your friends will meet if you don’t find me Y/N’

‘You can’t hide from me forever’

You hadn’t told the teachers of the texts for some moral high ground you had set upon yourself that you could push through it. He wasn’t in your life anymore and bu hacking into your phone wasn’t any different. Until the last text.

‘Tomorrow. They’ll all be dead because of you if you don’t show your face at the park, midnight. Don’t think I won’t.’

Attached to the message were selfies of you and your friends from 1-A. Laughing, smiling, having a good time together. But it was the last few photos that caught your attention. Pictures not from your phone. Photos of you and Bakugou taken from distances away, just days when you were all out shopping and hanging out on weekends together with the rest of the Bakusquad. But with every swipe of your finger, the pictures got closer and closer.

‘Katsuki Bakugou right? Don’t think I won’t blow him to smithereens too. Take up my offer or watch your friends and your little boyfriend’s faces be splattered all over TV screens at my hands.’

You swallowed the lump in your throat. This was it. You had to join him. For the safety of everyone. Packing a small bag you slipped out onto your balcony, manoeuvring ways to get down and out of UA Heights in the dark. You stifled sniffles as you snuck out, probably never going to see your friends again, and Bakugou… he was rough around his edges, yes, but he was the only one who knew. Who knew what you had been through, the torture your father had put you through. You knew you couldn’t burden him with the texts you had been getting though, he’d been your therapist enough. You had to leave. For him.

Your father didn’t give any descriptors on what park to head to, but you had your hunch. It was one that he used to take you as a kid with your mother. But that memory was all but a dream. Walking around the dimly lit paths, you searched for any sign of him before an arm tugged you into the rough of a bush. Expecting this to be your fate, you lent into the attacker.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The harsh whisper of Bakugou’s voice was weirdly music to your ears. His eyes had bags underneath them, an abnormal sight for the boy who went to bed at 8pm every day.

“What’re you doing here?” You shot back, keeping the hushed tones. Knowing your father would kill Bakugou on sight if he saw him here.

“Stopping you from doing something stupid, idiot!” His hands gripped tightly at the sides of your shoulders before dropping them as he realised he might’ve been scaring you more than he should’ve been.

“I knew something was up. I fuckin’ knew it.” Bakugou shook his head, you couldn’t read him in the darkness of the leaves surrounding you both. “I knew he wouldn’t just up and leave. Fuck-“

“Why did you follow me Bakugou?” Your voice was angry and you could see the look of shock on his face. It took him a few moments to answer before he gave a sigh.

“To take care of you idiot.” His voice is but a mere grumble, but it’s as clear as day in the quiet of the park. “You don’t have to suffer in silence. I- I’m worried about you.”

He shoots a side glance at you, obviously worried about your wellbeing. His eyes dance over your face so delicately, taking in every small aspect of it. As if he’s studied it for hundreds of years and knows each freckle by memory.

“You can’t be here.” You didn’t even realise you were crying, the look of realisation set upon his face.

“He’s here isn’t he?” His question is simple enough but it feels like a ton of bricks on your neck as you try to nod.

“Y/N~” your dad's voice rings out in the dark and it sets the two of you upright. The anger washes over his face and you realise that he can no longer hold back, and you can’t even stop him. Nothing ever stops Bakugou.

“You think you can just lure her away you freak?” Bakugou’s words reek of venom, his figure slipping out from the shrubbery, palms crackling like 1000 party poppers. “You’ll never lay a finger on her!”

Bakugou is the first to blast, you can’t help but hide in the bushes as the fight ensues, too terrified to show your face in case your dad swoops you away. But… what about Bakugou?

“Where is she?” Your father’s voice rings like a lion’s roar, it sends bile up your throat.

“Somewhere you’ll never find her!” Bakugou lies through his teeth, hoping to buy some time.

Before long it’s an all out flashy quirk fest. Your father's quirk being that of scorching energy beams, not an easy fight for the two. It didn’t take too long before your father eventually clipped Bakugou with one of his beams, sending him flying into a tree.

“Katsuki!” You scream out, revealing your hiding place. Scrambling over to Bakugou’s slumped over body you try to wake him up as your father chuckles and stomps over to you. You manage to throw him back for a few blows, keeping him away from Bakugou and yourself before you hear voices. The teachers. The sight of your father being captured by Aizawa’s scarf couldn’t help but feel like a breath of fresh air.

“They get here okay?” Bakugou chokes out from underneath you, his eyes squinting at the heroes.

“You called for help?” Your face was wet with tears, once falling because of fear and desperation and now just happy that Bakugou was seemingly alright. “That’s not like you.”

“I didn’t care what happened to that fuckin’ idiot.” His hand lays atop yours, switching his sight to you with a small smirk played upon his lips. “Just that you were safe.”

“Katsuki I-“

“I care about you a lot Y/N.” Bakugou sits himself up, wincing, so he can look you better in the eye. “I just, wanted to make sure that you were okay because… well I like you okay?”

The admission seems to hurt him but feels like a relief off of his chest.

“You were there for me Bakugou when I needed it.” You pull him delicately into a hug, the explosive smell of caramel and firewood playing upon your senses. “And… I’m thankful for that. Plus I- like you too.”

“You’re not just saying that because I saved your life are you idiot?”

You can’t help but chuckle a bit.

“No Bakugou. As I said, you’re there for me. And that’s why I like you… a lot.”

[welcometowcwmondaynitro]

WCW Monday Nitro 09/09/1996

Shit be exploding, so you know what time it is.

Yes sir.

Once again we are not given a location this week, which generally means the town is too small-time for the big shots at WCW to even consider giving a shout out to. My research tells me this broadcast comes from the Columbus Civic Centre in Columbus, Georgia.  

As always we are introduced to our first hour announce team, Schiavone and Zbyszko.

Tony is looking quite smart this evening. Larry as expected has a horrific multcoloured abomination on underneath his jacket. It’s basically his gimmick a this point so whatever. 

They talk about how the balance of power has shifted to the nWo and Larry says Giant is “the biggest traitor since Benedict Arnold”, nice ancient reference there, Larry. We get a recap of last week’s awesome show-ending brawl. 

Once they’re done wrapping this up, Goldberg’s music plays. What? I check my file - yes, definitely 9th September 1996. Has Goldberg time travelled back to 1996 and changed history by debuting early?

Well, either that is one hell of a disguise or no, actually Goldberg’s theme music was first used by this Japanese guy called Pat Tanaka. It’s really weird seeing this random fella walk out to Goldberg’s music. The crowd boo mildly - I guess just because he’s Japanese? I don’t remember there being any storyline reason to boo him, anyway. 

Pat’s opponent is... this.

Looks like a mascot from a early/mid-90s video game brought to life. If this is Super Calo then I am curious as to what regular Calo is like. I am unsure as to what makes this version ‘Super’, but maybe we’ll find out in the upcoming match. Mike Tenay joins the announce crew because it is Calo’s debut and Tenay is the only one likely to know anything about him.

Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo

I was kind of hoping Tanaka would start the match with a spear and then jackhammer Calo into oblivion, but no such luck. 

As one would anticipate from a man dressed like a stereotypical kung-fu master in an 80s movie, Tanaka starts the match off with some kicks.

Calo jumps around pointlessly and then gets kicked in the face. Bants.

Tenay tells us Calo’s name and look comes from the “top rap group” in Mexico. He does not name this group. Confusingly wikipedia claims Calo is named after a Mexican rock group with the same name, but his image is meant to convey a rapper. So, just... what? Also what rapper has ever looked like Super Calo? In Mexico is that how rappers dress? 

Well anyway this odd fellow somersaults over the ropes onto Tanaka outside of the ring. 

The screen then cuts to this.

 Then we’re back to the match. OK then. 

Tanaka hits Calo with a powerbomb, which leads to Tony talking about him being “so schooled in the martial arts”. Yes, because we all know that classic martial arts move the powerbomb. Often followed by a leg drop and a scorpion deathlock. 

The ending to this match is beyond ridiculous. 

First, Tanaka puts Calo onto the top turnbuckle.

Neither man seems to know what is meant to happen next, so they awkwardly wrap their arms around each other.

Tanaka then lifts Calo up like he’s going for an inverse piledriver and falls backwards.

Apparently he knocks himself out, gets pinned, and loses.

What an idiot.

Super Calo defeats Pat Tanaka via Pinfall.

Nothing too super about our friend Calo in this one I��m afraid. His victory came largely because Tanaka is a super dunce.

We got some lads in the front row who are big fans of the classic moustache.

They seem quite pleased that Calo emerged victorious.

Just under seven minutes in and we throw back to Mean Gene in the locker room with Rick Steiner. This should be good.

Shirts hanging out of the lockers behind them, as you do. 

Gene asks Rick Steiner about Nick Patrick’s questionable officiating - referring to the incident last week where Luger was disqualified in seconds for basically nothing. Rick says that he had Luger, and Gene saw it. Total bullshit as the match had barely started, and Gene does point that out. 

Luger walks into the frame as we see last week’s replay. Rick is continually going on about how he was going to win, sounding like a mentally challenged three year old. On the other hand this is a guy who also genuinely thinks he’s a dog, so... I should probably be impressed that he is able to form words and put them into a somewhat coherent structure.

Gene says that Steiner is “a little confused” in the understatement of the century, 

Luger tells Rick that he’s “a great tag team wrestler” but he feels like he has the edge in a singles environment. Rick continues to fail to understand basic english and keeps repeating “I can beat you, ask Sting” and then starts calling for Sting.

Gene then ushers Rick away like an unruly child as Luger walks off as well. Gene says that Luger was alluding that Rick “doesn’t have it upstairs”, pointing to his head. Wow, what a dick. Luger didn’t say anything like that. All he implied was that he was a better singles wrestler than Rick. Not sure where Gene has gotten his interpretation from, but my guess is he just wants to stir the pot as usual.

Next it’s nWo announcement time.

Just the usual t-shirt ad with Nash saying “all proceeds go towards the Ric Flair retirement fund”. Joke’s on him, that fund must have accrued some serious cash before it was finally paid out.

We’re back and...

Somebody buy these poor kids some real nWo t-shirts. 

Where did these people come from? Did they decide to stop by Nitro after a corporate dinner or something? 

Are these pilots in the audience as well? Wtf? Why are all these people coming to the show dressed in their work clothes? Is this a common thing in the States?

Oh, hey, guess what - Glacier debuted. I would say “remember all that hype” but if you’ve been reading this sad collection of nostalgic drivel then you will indeed remember the many Glacier adverts that have been on every Nitro broadcast since May or so. We’re now in September and Glacier finally had his first match... on WCW Pro.

Seriously.

WCW Pro is like... Sunday Night Heat or Velocity in WWE terms. It’s below WCW Saturday Night for fuck’s sake.  Tony calls it “one of the most eagerly anticipated debuts ever” - which is why he made his first appearance on WCW FUCKING PRO. Oh WCW, what are you like?

Larry says Glacier will be “a force to be reckoned with”, which, spoiler alert. turns out to be the opposite.

  Oh good, these two walking charisma vacuums.

And these two lumbering idiots. WCW, the best wrestling on the planet. How could WWF in 1996 find no way to entice people away from Pat Tanaka vs Super Calo and The AFC vs the Nasty Boys? Seriously. It isn’t that difficult. 

The AFC do their usual schtick of singing the Canadian national anthem badly and the crowd get angry because ‘Murica fuck yeah and whatever. The Nasty Boys say “fuck this” and attack the AFC after about 10 seconds of this bullshit, getting the match started.

The Amazing French Canadians Vs The Nasty Boys

You don’t care about this match. I don’t care about this match. Let’s just skip to the end.

Knobbs whacks the eyepatch guy with the flag the AFC brought out. Saggs pins for the win. 

The Nasty Boys defeat The Amazing French Canadians via Pinfall.

Mean Gene comes scurrying out to interview the Nastys, for some reason.

Saggs says everybody has been pointing the finger at the Nasty Boys, accusing them of being with the nWo (can’t imagine anybody really cares but OK, sure). Saggs says the Nasty’s are only worried about the tag titles which are in WCW, ergo they aren’t interested in joining the nWo. Does he not realise that faction affiliation is irrelevent as far as challenging for belts is concerned? I mean, Hogan is literally WCW Heavyweight champion at this point in time. 

Knobbs says that the Nasty’s don’t care about the nWo, they’re in WCW and they’re coming for Harlem Heat to take the tag team titles. Short and to the point, which is fine by me, even if the Nasty’s appear to be under the mistaken impression- that joining the nWo would invalidate them from challenging for the tag titles. 

We’re back from a commercial break to find Scott Norton and Sgt Craig Pittman in the ring.

Sgt Craig Pittman Vs Scott Norton

The commentators bill this as a “hold versus hold” match and I’m not sure what this means, as I was under the impression every match is hold versus hold. But whatever. 

After some back and forth Pittman decides that it’s time to ram his head into Norton’s sternum. 

It looks pretty painful and not especially effective, but Pittman enjoys it so much he does it again. 

They head to the outside of the ring. Norton gets whipped against the guardrail, the entirety of which moves upon impact, but then Norton regains control by slamming Pittman’s shoulder into the ring post. 

Norton locks in the armbar but the Sarge will not give up. Long gets onto the ring apron to beg Pittman to give in, but he won’t. WCW, for reasons beyond my understanding, is very careful about protecting Sgt. Craig Pittman. He never gets pushed, as far as I remember, but this man WILL NOT QUIT.

Then... 

Ice Train wanders out wearing this abomination. Seriously - what the fuck? It’s like a demin vest with a backpack built in. It’s something you would expect to see an eight-year old girl in the mid-90s wearing over the top of a t-shirt or something. What clothing brand figured that this design was suitable for huge, beefy dudes? I don’t know, but they clearly have a customer in Ice Train.

Train throws in the towel for Pittman.  

Scott Norton defeats Sgt. Craig Pittman via Forfeit. 

He enters the ring and stares down at Norton, who is looking at Train’s vest top and moobs like “dafuq?”

The two former amigos have a staredown which doesn’t lead anywhere. 

Pepboys Power Pin of the Week is a submission. Go figure.

We head to the locker room where Gene-o is with Ric Flair, Arn Anderson and Lex Luger.

Three of these men are dressed appropriately. The other is Lex Luger.

Apparently Sting is supposed to be a part of this interview as well but is nowhere to be found. Luger assures Flair & Arn that Sting is in the building, but the Horsemen are having none of it and are concerned that Sting doesn’t have his head in the game. Flair starts going crazy and practically flings himself into an alternate dimension with his erratic movements.

Like a jet propeller is being put directly in front of his face.

Anyway eventually these two sad sacks come lumbering in...

Mongo looks like he’s about to explode, whilst Benoit as usual appears barely awake. Mongo yells about not being able to count on Luger and Sting. Luger reiterates that Sting is in the building somewhere, he’s just not around for the interview. The Horsemen do seem overly paranoid here - how hard would it be to track Sting down and talk to him if they are this pissed off? 

Arn says he’s called ahead to Winston, Salem (where Fall Brawl/War Games is being held) to pre-book himself a hospital room as he assumes he’s going to need one. Seems like a somewhat pessimistic thing to do, but is it even possible to pre-book hospital room? Arn is talking like he’s booked a hotel room for the night. Strange lad. He also suggests Hogan uses battery acid to burn out his eyes which... I mean, don’t give the guy ideas, Arn.  

Interview ends with everybody talking over each other and Flair wooing a lot - so, the same as most Horsemen interviews.

People in the crowd are holding these signs which say “nWo - you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming!” - indeed, Hogan Vs Piper is coming.

We get a recap of this thrilling DDP/Eddie/Chavo storyline which nobody cares about, but why this is recapped is beyond me as the next match has nothing to do with any of those three. 

Instead, out comes “the desparado” himself, Joe Gomez.

Somebody throws a wad of paper at him as he enters. Obviously not a fan.

His opponent is Juventud Guerrera,  who Tony repeatedly refers to as Juventud Guerrero. 

As Juvi enters he runs past these ladies, who appear both baffled and unimpressed with him.

Cold.

Joe Gomez Vs Juventud Guerrera

The match starts off okay, but descends into disaster fairly quickly as Juvi starts trying various lucha things which poor Joe is clearly not comfortable with. First Juvi stands on the apron, jumps onto the ropes as Gomez slowly walks towards him and does this...

It’s clear from this angle alone that there is no way in hell Juvi is going to reach Gomez. In fairness to WCW they switch camera angle just in time to make it look slightly less terrible, although I imagine it was more down to luck than skill. Nonetheless Gomez at least tries to sell the move, falling backwards theatrically.

Weeee! Points for effort if not execution. 

This happens next, and thanks to Uproxx “Best and Worst of WCW Monday Nitro” series (check it out, it’s great) I have a GIF to put into pictures what I would struggle to put into words.

Speaks for itself.

After this Juvi seems to want to go for a hurricanrana from the top turnbuckle but I‘m not sure if they botch this as well or it was the plan, but Juvi ends up backflipping away from the turnbuckle and then catching Gomez with a weak looking dropkick as he jumps towards Juvi.

Juvi just about manages to hit the finishing move...

But even that looks a little bit dodgy. At least Joe just had to lay there for this one. Ref counts to three and mercifully this one is over. Not sure if Gomez or Juvi are to blame for this shitshow, but either way I advise never putting them together again.

Juventud Guerrera defeats Joe Gomez via Pinfall.

For some reason Mean Gene is on the ramp to interview Nick Patrick. Oh good, more of this storyline.

Before they start the interview though, as Juventud walks past Gene and Patrick, Gene says “very good match there on the part of Juventud Guerrera”, then gives Juvi a disdainful look and mutters “guy just kind of... wanders around here”. LOL. Why is Gene throwing shade at poor Juvi? “Guy just wanders around here”, like he’s a lost child or something. I guess Gene is still salty about the interview with Juvi that went wrong a couple of weeks ago, but come on, that was hardly Juvi’s fault. Obvious Gene is still holding a grudge though. 

I don’t think anybody really wants to hear from these two ballbags but here we are anyway. 

Gene is accusing Patrick of making too many controversial calls for it to just be coincidence, whilst Patrick is accusing Gene of being a shit-stirring cock cheese who needs to get a life. Neither are lying but nobody really cares either. What is funny is that Okerlund is very haughty and dismissive of Patrick - until Patrick threatens to take Gene to court - at which point Gene stutters “well I-I hope that doesn’t happen” before saying “thank you very much Nick Patrick, sir, thank you” to Patrick as he walks off. Pathetic. 

Meanwhile Hogan, Hall, Nash and the Giant are outside in the pouring rain putting those nWo flyers with the “you haven’t seen bad... but it’s coming” slogan on random cars. This seems like a total waste of time as by the time the car owners get back to their vehicles the rain would probably have destroyed those flyers anyway.  Do these guys really have nothing better to do? Tony tells us the nWo are “literally” in the parking lot - as opposed to what, being there in spirit?

Ted DiBiase is the smartest of the lot as he 1) has an umbrella and 2) isn’t wasting his time putting up useless flyers in the pouring rain. He’s talking to somebody in the car, and the announcers are shitting themselves as to who it might be, as they tend to do. For all they know DiBiase might just be talking to the driver. 

“HERE’S A STORY OF TWO BROTHERS, RICK AND SCOTT!”

Just Rick tonight. He comes out doing that sad half-bark he does whenever something is troubling him. 

His opponent, of course, is Flexy Lexy.

Rick Steiner Vs Lex Luger

These two are not exactly known as ‘ring generals’ so I am not expecting a classic here. Let’s see, though. Perhaps we will all be pleasantly surprised. 

After various arm drags, headlocks, shoulder blocks, and so on, this happens.

Uh...

Yeah. Rick is basically molesting Luger in the ring and keeps this up for a disturbing amount of time. I guess it’s meant to show his amateur wrestling background but it basically just looks like sexual assault. Rick’s hands are going to places they really should not. 

Hour two begins with the usual fireworks. Bischoff, Heenan and Tenay come in on commentary for the rest of the show. 

Rick hits Luger with a nice powerslam, and Randy Anderson cannot bear to watch the impact. The crowd bark their approval which, personally, I don’t think is helpful. Rick’s clinical lycanthropy is only going to get worse if people bark at him when he does something good. Or bark at him in general, really.

More cuddling. Back away, Rick. Even Randy Anderson is telling him to cut it out at this point.

Luger takes control with a powerslam and signals for the rack. However, before he can attempt his finishing move...

This dicksplash comes running out waving his arms around. Looks like he’s doing the sieg heil there but fairly sure it’s just the timing of the screenshot.

Anyhow, Patrick tells Luger to follow him out the back, yelling something about the nWo beating up Sting.

Considering Patrick’s recent behaviour, Lex, it might not be wise to...

OK. Never mind. Of course Luger goes running after Patrick, abandoning the match entirely and getting himself counted out. 

Everyone looking towards the entrance way like “where’s he going?” 

Rick Steiner defeats Lex Luger via Countout.

We get a shot of DiBiase talking to the mystery man in the limo. Sting’s voice is heard but it is blatantly piped in from some other promo. He says he’s “tired of the DTA stuff, don’t trust anybody”, so I guess he’s not a fan of Stone Cold Steve Austin. DiBiase pretends to talk to the pre-taped Sting voice until Lex shows up.

A guy who is clearly not Sting gets out of the limo and starts beating up Luger whilst Bischoff screams “NO! NO!”

I have the advantage of hindsight and my monitor is probably bigger than most people’s TVs back in 1996... but still, it’s really obviously not Sting. Were people genuinely fooled by this? 

The nWo along with “Sting” beat Luger down and leave him laying in a broken heap in the rain...

It has not been a good night for Luger. First he got yelled at by the Horsemen, then he spent ten minutes getting inappropriately touched by Rick Steiner during their match, then he gets smacked around by the nWo and left on the ground in the pouring rain. Bad times for sure. Although if you’re stupid enough to follow Nick Patrick anywhere... 

Luger does manage to get back up but ends up just kind of wandering around in the rain looking confused whilst the nWo flee, leaving the limos parked outside the building.

These bois are not impressed by what they have just seen. Tenay looks like a dad who is about to grab his belt and put a whippin’ on somebody. Bischoff is indignant. Heenan wears the expression of a man who was just forced to sit through every Raw from 2015. Pure torture. 

Bischoff says he has an update which is literally “we don’t know where [the nWo] are. I’m sorry. I don’t know”. Well thanks for that. Very helpful. 

We get a long recap of last week’s angle including more footage of the amazing all-out brawl that ended the show. Then we get another nWo advert for their t-shirt. 

A bunch of random jobbers are outside with Luger and Rick Steiner milling around the limo yelling out “DIBIASE!” - as if he’ll just pop up and be like “sup bois?” - pointless endeavour. Rick Steiner is the only one smart enough to bring an umbrella outside. Let that one sink in. Luger chucks a bunch of stuff out of one of the limos onto the floor which seems unnecessary. 

Out comes pre-Flock Billy Kidman. The commentators could not care less, just droning on about Sting’s supposed “defection”. 

The other combatant in this contest is Cruiserweight champion Rey Mysterio Jr.

Rey Mysterio Jr Vs Billy Kidman

The announcers spend the entire match in ‘sad voice’, like their dogs have all collectively died. It’s really annoying.

The match spills to the outside very quickly. Rey gets the advantage and rolls Kidman back in. He attempts to jump off the ropes from the apron, but Kidman knows what’s coming and meets Rey with a dropkick to the chest.

Kidman slams Rey in the centre of the ring, runs over to the turnbuckle and leaps off.

Just a two count though. Rey wins the match soon after this by flipping off the ropes onto Kidman.

It looks weak but whatever. This wasn’t anything special.

Rey Mysterio defeats Billy Kidman via Pinfall.

We come back from a commercial and the Dungeon’s of Doom’s “music” is playing, and I put that in inverted commas because it isn’t really music, just a pseudo-creepy OTT villainous laugh accompanied by some kind of chant. Whatever. Normally any sign of the Dungeon is enough to make me want to hang my head in despair, however!

If Meng is involved, it might be somewhat entertaining. Just to note those aren’t two random arms sprouting out of Meng’s shoulders – the Barbarian is behind him.

The announcers are still going on about how tragic Sting’s supposed betrayal is – and Bischoff apologises for “not giving Rey Mysterio the attention he deserves in his match”. I mean, kind of tough to take that apology seriously considering how often this has happened and will continue to happen until Nitro goes out of existence. It is the only time I can recall any commentator in WCW actually apologising for the routine ignoring of the cruiserweights in favour of talking about/complaining about the nWo, though.

These two are the opponents. Yeah, Public Enemy, they definitely deserve that pyro. Sure. Look at them waving their hands in the air like they just don’t care.

By the way, the commentators are still going on about Sting. I wonder if we’ll get another apology for ignoring this match as well? Not that I’d necessarily blame them here.

Some diehard wrestling fans here. I think we saw them previously – seemingly someone in production has taken a liking to these ladies. They look like they got lost on their way to a PTA meeting, but fuck it, might as well enjoy themselves now. Watch out for the dude behind you though, ladies. That smile worries me a little.

The Faces of Fear Vs Public Enemy

We go to a commercial break, and as soon as we come back Bischoff says “I hate to keep repeating this, but apparently Sting has joined forces with the nWo”. Bullshit, if you hated it that much you’d have shut up about it by now. I mean, jeez, we get it.

This contest is just a brawl, as you’d expect. Not exactly a match for the ages, but all of a sudden, randomly…

This dude on the left appears and begins running/skipping around the ring.

The fuck? It’s like Rockstar Spud’s demented uncle or something. 

He briefly chases Jimmy Hart, then just… vanishes? Oh, and by the way, the commentators make no mention of this. They do not acknowledge this at all. Why? Because they’re talking about everything except the match itself. Literally, I’m not kidding, it’s like this match is not happening. It’s like listening to a radio show or a podcast spliced together with unrelated WCW footage.

Wait, what? What’s happening now? The match is ongoing and they just cut to the back. Judging from the faces of these lads you’d think someone died. It’s a sombre scene to say the least – but seriously, why even have the match in the ring? What’s the point? The commentators are acting like it isn’t happening and we cut to an interview as the match is happening. Bischoff doesn’t even note that we’ve cut away from a match in progress, he just says “take it away Gene”, like this is totally normal. Whatever, I guess. It’s not like I’m desperate to see the Faces of Fear versus Public Enemy, but what a bizarre way to structure… everything.

Gene asks Arn to explain what happened in the parking lot earlier. Seemed quite self-explanatory to me and the commentators have not stopped talking about it since it happened, so the viewers really don’t need any extra information.  

Arn says he doesn’t give a shit about Luger losing a friend, or that he’s lost a team mate, he’s just shocked. He brings up Sting’s loyalty to WCW.

They actually move to a split-screen here – I guess someone in the production truck remembered there is actually a match going on. It wouldn’t be fair to deprive the dozens of Faces of Fear/Public Enemy fans the chance to see their favourite grapplers go at it.

Anyway, Arn says he has a sick feeling in his stomach, he’s shocked, and he’s out of words. He’s said quite a few already, though, so not really.

Flair stands there with his arms folded, eyeing the audience like a disappointed father.

Luger says he doesn’t have any answers, and that his “best friend in the whole world” stabbed him in the back. He then says he knows where Sting lives and where he works out, and he’s going to go and find him “right now”. Sounds like Lex is planning to murk Sting. However, he should keep in mind this is a guy who only last week tried to murder somebody by chucking a rock through the window of a limo, then stole a police car. Come to think of it, I’m not sure why Sting isn’t in jail. Regardless, I wouldn’t be chasing after him without a good plan.

Flair screams that he’s “sick of it” and just generally yells about how they’re going to beat up the nWo at War Games (including Sting). Arn says “it’s a fight to the death – yours, not ours”. I suppose that was worth emphasising? Also Arn has a tendency to see these matches as ending in death, even though it never comes close to that.

We return to the Faces of Fear/Public Enemy match. By “we” I mean the audience – the commentators are still talking about War Games. I genuinely don’t think they have said anything about the match – oh, wait a minute, Bischoff does mention the match, finally. Although he says the teams are “literally fighting for their lives” which is not exactly accurate. What is up with these people thinking matches are going to end so tragically?

Anyway, the brawling continues for a while and eventually, somehow, Rocco Rock ends up lying on a table. Barbarian heads for the top turnbuckle.

Guys, I don’t foresee this ending well. Seriously, what is the absolute best result of this? Rocco (who can clearly see Barbarian on the turnbuckle) for some reason lays there and lets Barbarian jump on him. It’ll be brutal for both. Or, Rocco moves and Barbarian crashes through the table. Either way Barbarian doesn’t win in this scenario.

Uh oh. Jimmy Hart is absolutely useless at holding Rocco down, kicked away like an insect as Rocco sits up.

That is a fucking sick bump. It’s funny because Barbarian barely takes any serious bumps at all, on Nitro at least, then he decides to say fuck it and leaps to the concrete through a table because YOLO I guess?

Well anyway he dead. Rocco brings a second table into the ring.

Looks pretty old. Nick Patrick wags his finger in disapproval, but incredibly that isn’t enough to persuade Public Enemy to stop. They lay Meng on the table, then Rocco goes to the top turnbuckle for a moonsault…

He almost misses the table entirely, only catching Meng with his legs. The table is weak enough that it breaks despite the soft contact.

You’d think that would be the spot that ends the match, but no. Meng gets up like nothing happened and starts brawling with Rocco again. Barbarian is also somehow revived and back in the ring fighting with Grunge. This is weird because the outside table spot with Barbarian getting wiped out, and then Meng getting put through the table by Rocco’s moonsault, felt like the end sequence of the match. Now it’s like we’re back at the start again. Keep in mind the match has been going for about 10 minutes now. That’s at least 7 minutes longer than is ideal for these teams, really.

Whilst Rocco and Barbarian are hugging it out in the corner, Meng puts the Tongan Death Grip on Grunge and now this one is over.

No explanation as to what the fuck was going on with that random ginger guy running around the ring earlier by the way. Oh well. During the replay Heenan accidentally calls Meng “Haku” and then goes silent immediately. Oops.

The Faces of Fear defeat Public Enemy via Pinfall.

Suddenly Okerlund appears at ringside, accompanied by the Dungeon of Doom.

Maxx, Jimmy Hart, Big Bubba, Gene, Kevin Sullivan, Hugh Morrus and Konnan. To quote Rufus from Final Fantasy 7 – “what a crew”.

Sullivan is no longer painting his face with those stupid markings, but for some reason is now wearing a white headband. Does he think he’s the Karate Kid now?

He also starts making this derp face - and this isn’t just a screen grab catching an awkward expression momentarily, he’s making this face on purpose.

For some reason we go to Jimmy Hart first, who tells the Giant “it’s the beginning of the end for you, you just don’t know it yet”. I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots.  

Big Bubba then rants about Glacier, talking about him saying he’s coming for “6 or 7 months” and asking if he’s not debuting because he’s afraid. Slight exaggeration on the 6 or 7 months from Bubba, but to be fair it does feel like those vignettes have been running for at least that long. Bubba actually doesn’t seem to be aware that Glacier debuted on WCW Pro, but it’s WCW Pro, so... understandable. Bubba calls the Dungeon of Doom “the masters of intimidation”…

What he means is that Meng is the master of intimidation. The others aren’t exactly adding much to the equation. Maxx is standing off to the side looking distinctly unimpressed by the entire thing.

With that said, bored does seem to be his default expression regardless of what is happening. I imagine he’d have the same expression even if Bubba was in the process of sprouting three heads whilst doing a kossack dance.

After calling Gene “homes”, Konnan calls Sullivan a “hardened veterano”. He then says Sullivan has seen and led gang wars from coast to coast.

Yes, Kevin Sullivan wearing that silly white headband is exactly what I think of when I think of leaders of gang wars. Sullivan’s ‘wut?’ expression here says it all. I’m not sure you can call the Dungeon of Doom/Alliance to End Hulkamania Versus Hogan and Macho Man a “gang war”. I’m not sure two people can even constitute a gang. Also Sullivan may be worried Konnan is unintentionally (?) implicating him in genuine gang wars… which probably isn’t in the Taskmaster’s best interests.

Konnan challenges the nWo to come out and confront the Dungeon, who he calls “the toughest set”. Yeah, sure. The challenge is not accepted, because the nWo are for sure terrified of a “gang” featuring the likes of Maxx, Kevin Sullivan, Big Bubba and Hugh Morrus.

Sullivan says that Savage thinks he’ll owe the Dungeon “a debt” for carrying him out from the ring last week. I doubt it in all honesty – maybe if they’d actually done something to help him before he’d been beaten down and spraypainted. Carrying him out after the fact didn’t really help much.

Anyhow, Sullivan says Savage can repay this fictional debt by first beating John Tenta, because why not I guess, and then by getting rid of the Giant. That doesn’t really seem like a balanced deal. We carry you backstage after you’ve been beaten up, you make it even by beating John Tenta and the Giant. Hmmm.

Time for some nWo propaganda.

Hogan tells us that they “aren’t here for a stinkin’ reason” – directly contradicting Nash and Hall, who had previously made it clear they’d come in specifically to take over WCW. He then randomly says “we’ve got our boss with us” and points to Ted DiBiase, who’s sitting in a chair behind them.

Homely. DiBiase looks like he’s being held prisoner, but whatever. Hogan says DiBiase makes Ted Turner look like a “pauper”. Honestly I could try to recap this whole thing but it’s really just a bunch of random sound bytes ripping on WCW for the most part. They talk about wanting “their own tag team tournament” for some reason. They also want a segment (on Nitro, presumably) where they can “highlight” their talent. What they actually mean is a segment highlighting Hogan, as we’ll discover going forward. Scott Hall says “nWo 4 life” with the hand sign (might be the first instance of this?) and they all end the segment laughing like it was an amazing joke.

I was a satellite dish owner back then – or rather, my parents were - but no WCW PPVs in the UK, sadly. We only got a butchered hour-long version of Nitro on TNT UK during 1996 & 1997. I didn’t find out that I’d been watching an edited version of the show until many years later. At least now I can sit back and relive the glory of the Faces of Fear Vs Public…. eh, maybe TNT UK were doing us a favour after all.

Back with your bois at the announce desk. Tenay once again has that “stern dad” look, whilst Heenan seems to be whimsically remembering something from years gone by. Take a guess as to what Bischoff is talking about?

A)     The upcoming main event

B)     Meltzer being wrong about everything

C)     Blue Chew

D)     Sting’s betrayal

If you’ve been following along thus far, you’ll know the answer. The lad does genuinely hate big Dave though, and loves that Blue Chew. Come to think of it, what is the main event? I can’t even remember. Sting’s supposed betrayal has been hammered into my brain so many fucking times at this point I can barely conceive of any other event occurring at any wrestling show.

Chris Jericho’s music plays, but…

It’s John Tenta? Still got that stupid haircut by the way. Seriously, fish man, you’ve made your point. Get that shaved.

But yeah, I’m confused here. I thought Jericho was coming out. But hold on, that’s Jericho’s second theme, “One Crazed Anarchist”, aka the Pearl Jam ripoff, not the one he’s using at this point in WCW, which I believe is the Journey ripoff. So John Tenta is in fact the OG “One Crazed Anarchist”. For the record, the theme suits Jericho far more than it suits the former Shark.

As he comes out Tenta says “Savage, you’re not putting me down”. You think so, John?

What exactly has that guy in the hat been up to? That is not the look of an innocent person.

Ohhh yeahhh, it’s the Macho Man. The commentators are pretending that the result of the match is in any doubt, which I suppose they have to do.

John “anti-fish” Tenta Vs “Macho Man” Randy Savage

Savage storms to the ring, but that turns out to be a bad idea as Tenta stomps on the Macho Man’s back as he slides in and then clobbers him with a forearm to the back.

Bad strategy, Macho. Tenta’s moobs though… whoa.

That’s an interesting choice of attire for a wrestling event, madam.

Tenta works over Savage in the corner for a bit. Savage then begins to make a comeback, before for some reason attempting to slam Tenta…

Goes about as well as you’d expect. Macho really needs to work on his strategy.

Bischoff actually specifically says here that Heenan accidentally referred to Meng as “Haku” earlier and wants to make it clear Meng now works for WCW and not the WWF. I guess they were really taking this kind of thing seriously due to the lawsuits flying around at this point in history. Funny though, as you hear these kinds of slip-ups all the time. I mean, if TNA or AEW were sued for every time a commentator accidentally used a competitor’s ex-WWE name there would need to be a legal department created specifically just to deal with the fucking volume. At least Heenan didn’t call it “WWF Nitro”.

Tenta hits Macho with a decent looking drop kick – quite impressive considering his weight. Outside of the ring Savage hits Tenta with a steel chair…

He isn’t disqualified because…? He whacks Tenta twice more with a chair. This is not a no-DQ match, but it is WCW, so fuck the rules unless we need them for storyline purposes, right?

Flying elbow drop!

Macho goes up for a second, but then Teddy Long comes to ringside yelling “Macho!” – what could the so-called “godfather” want with Savage? Also where’s my man Ice Train at? Come to think of it, I just remembered what he was wearing earlier… best for him to stay backstage.

Savage still hits the second elbow drop. Long is gesticulating wildly at Savage and yelling something about the nWo. Savage leaps over the top rope with nice agility.

But before we go any further…

Son, I am disappoint. I can’t even say “A for effort” because that is the lowest tier of effort.

Anyway, Savage follows Teddy to the outside of the arena where Teddy announces “YOU GONNA GO ONE-ON-ONE WITH THE UNDERTAKER PLAYA!”

Actually, they run towards a limo.              

The limo drives off as soon as Savage approaches it. What was the point of that?

Flair and Mongo randomly appear as the limo drives away.

There’s another limo there, but only a box of spraypaint inside it. There are a ton of WCW guys out there now – the Horsemen, the Dungeon, Public Enemy, Juvi, Super Calo, Savage… basically everyone who was on TV tonight. They start spraypainting ���WCW” on the limo windows… or rather, they try to. Due to the fact it’s been raining and everywhere is wet it ends up just looking like a green smudge. As an aside, if that is in fact not an nWo limo, somebody is going to be in for a surprise.  

For some reason the commentators are all standing up. Tenay is looking more evil every time he’s on camera. It’s like he wants to reach through the camera and strangle each and every viewer.

Seriously though, he is repeatedly making a “pissed-off dad” face.

“Dad, I borrowed your car…”

“Um… and… I got a speeding ticket…”

“And there’s a dent on the front as I kinda sorta knocked over the mailbox…”

Grounded forever.

Anyway, once they all sit back down Heenan goes on a rant about the nWo which concludes with “if we don’t stop them now then they can’t be stopped”. If only you could glimpse into the future and nWo 2000, Bobby.

Oh, by the way, I guess John Tenta won the match against Savage by count out? It wasn’t announced or shown, but Savage jumped out of the ring and never returned, so…

John Tenta defeats “Macho Man” Randy Savage via Countout.

I guess Tenta was right, Savage didn’t put him down after all. Score one for the fish hating weirdo.

Double A suddenly appears on set. Heenan gives Arn his headset. Can’t help but think it’d be better for Anderson to be in the ring with a mic, as the fans in the arena can’t hear any of this… but whatever.

Arn says that the world is “in shock” and “outraged”. The world is probably a bit of a stretch, but OK. Flair turns up as Arn is talking, as do Benoit and Mongo. Arn says that this all began ten years ago with the original Horsemen, and that they paved the way and showed the nWo how to do it. Technically true. Arn says the nWo want to be the Horsemen “when they grow up”.

Tenay continuing to give that evil stare, even at Arn. Bischoff looks kind of sad.

As an aside, I may have mentioned it before, but I really like this shirt design:

Bischoff begins talking about making mistakes, but Flair interrupts him. Flair screams so loudly that the headset seems to take some damage as the volume decreases slightly. Flair explains War Games – although if you don’t know what it is by this point then what have you been doing with your life? – and says Hogan won’t leave War Games alive. Spoiler alert: he does.

Bischoff then talks about how maybe bringing Hogan in to WCW was “a mistake” and that the Horsemen “haven’t been given their just due”. The same exact sentence could have been said in 2000 and been even more relevant.

WCW then ends the show with a replay of Luger getting beaten up by “Sting” and the nWo. I’m sure he appreciates that. A good thing they reminded us, as I think a whole ten seconds passed at the end there without mention of Sting’s betrayal and my memory had started to go hazy.

[eleven-times-lively]

Cheeky Niffler

Hello👋 I have a request for Newt Scamander where the reader is an archeologists and they met when the niffler tried to steal something that the reader had found

I love this gif for many reasons. I was thirsty while writing this and ummm... it’s obvious💕

Summary: One of Newt’s nifflers caused a disruption in your work, forcing you and Newt together. Word Count: 2000 Note: I love this idea and story! I was in kind of a writing slump the past week and couldn’t seem to write (I even abandoned a story), so I’m glad to finally get something out! slightttt smut?

You sniffled lightly, carefully dusting off the glinting object in your hand. It had only been a few years since you graduated, but you were now a leading archaeologist with the ministry. Your job took you to many interesting places, and you met many interesting people. Little did you know that today would be no different. You turned the object over in your hands, some ancient looking piece of jewelry. Perhaps a bracelet that had succumbed to the efforts of time. Several small gems peaked out amongst the gold strands, catching the light perfectly. You placed the object down for  a moment so you could write your notes on the tiny notepad you carried, but when you turned back the bracelet was gone. You searched the ground around you, but to no avail. You then heard a light shouting, growing increasingly loud. 

“Get back here you cheeky- ooohh running away again I see!”

You stood up and looked around, bewildered and concerned. That was when you saw him. A kind looking man dressed in a dapper blue coat with a yellow vest underneath, tied together with a neat black bow. He didn’t look wrong, just out of place. You were in the middle of a vast, dry forest, and he looked like he belonged in the city. You had just realised that he was charging directly at you. You stared on in surprise, eyes wide, and you braced for impact. He stopped short just a foot away from you, crouching down to the ground. You were so frightened and perplexed that you stayed frozen in your spot, even as the man stood and was speaking to you.

“Miss?”, he repeated for the umpteenth time.

Finally snapping out of your daze you met his gaze, “Huh?”, was all you could manage. You were already enthralled by the very sight of him. His eyes held such depth and emotion you could practically see the countless stories they held. The deep, complex blue stared back at you, narrowing slightly.

“Umm,” he muttered, “Terribly sorry but I believe I have something of yours.” He held up the bracelet, inviting you to take it back. You once again snapped out of your daze, lightly grabbing the bracelet and placing it in your bag, never breaking eye contact. You had never seen someone so… beautiful. He wasn’t extraordinarily striking, he certainly wasn’t some sought after bachelor, but there was something so fascinating about him. The innocent smile, the rounded cheekbones, and the peppering of freckles all came together to create the stunning man that was mere inches from you. What felt like an eternity went by before he spoke again, realising you wouldn’t. “One of my nifflers snatched your…”

“Bracelet!” You interjected, a little too excited.

“Right,” he smiled, “They’re terribly attracted to shiny objects I’m afraid.” He chuckled, fiddling with the creature in his hands awkwardly.

“No bother,” you smiled at him, reaching forward to pet the niffler, “I think he’s adorable.” You could have sworn you saw the man blush.

“Oh how rude of me!”, he exclaimed, meeting your gaze one again. “Newt Scamander,” he said, letting the niffler climb up his arm so he could extend a hand to you.

“Charmed,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Y/n.” There was an awkward lull of silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed.

“So you’re here for work?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, his kind expression almost overwhelming.

“Yes!” You loved any opportunity to talk about your job. “I’m with the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” you smiled proudly at him. “ The International Magical Trading Standards Body to be specific,” you added, blushing and turning away slightly.

You didn’t notice Newt’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you up and down. A lightbulb went off in his head and he nearly jumped up and down in excitement. “Pardon, but are you Y/n Y/l/n, as in the head of the Trading Standards Body?”

You turned back, a shy smile creeping across your face. “I am. Youngest ever to be appointed, actually. I started as an archaeologist with Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, but I suppose my knowledge was more useful elsewhere. I was brought in to settle disputes on the origins of objects, and a few projects later… I was appointed,” you chuckled awkwardly, hoping you didn’t sound boastful.

“Outstanding!”, he mused. “I heard about you and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed. And don’t sell yourself short! Merlin, I’ve read both of your books, and Miss you are extremely brilliant. I’m afraid my position may be less impressive to you,” he slowly trailed off, yet his gaze never left yours. “Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, beast division.” He smiled proudly, quite pleased with himself.

“Brilliant!”, you exclaimed. “Magical creatures have always fascinated me. If I wasn’t devoted to archaeology I probably would have pursued something in your field, Mr. Scamander.” You flashed a warm smile, but could sense him growing nervous.

“I apologise, Miss,” he quickly said. “I feel I may have sounded a bit crass or perhaps out of place. Do forgive me.” His face blushed a cherry red as his eyes cast downward. The niffler on his shoulder cocked an eye at you.

“Pardon?”, you question as it quickly pieced together in your head. Surely you were right around the same age as him, but you must terrify him. The amount of power you hold, and what you can do with it, must be at least a little intimidating. “Oh! Merlin, it’s quite alright. Please, don’t treat me any different.”

Newt felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders as he let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Well, pleasure to meet you Miss y/l/n. Here’s to the hope that we shall cross paths again.” He nodded his head at you and turned to return to wherever he came from.

“Wait!,” you called after him, “Mr. Scamander!”

He turned back, lifting an eyebrow as his head tilted to the side. He slowly walked back over to you. His lips pursed slightly as he stood before you, waiting expectantly.

“If you aren’t busy, would you like to join me for tea? I’m just about finished here.” You smiled at him, hiding your nerves well. You took in his expression: poorly masked excitement. You quickly added, “And not for a business meeting, Newt” You flashed a cheeky grin up at him.

“Oh… oh.” That would be lovely, Miss. I know a fantastic cafe just around a ways away in the town. He was blushing, returning your smile.

“Brilliant. We can meet there in…” you glanced at your watch, “thirty minutes?” He nodded and smiled at you, taking a mental note. “Oh and Newt,” you replied, “Call me y/n.”

***

The short time later you were seated in the quaint cafe, gazing out the large front window. You spotted Newt coming up the long road, looking absolutely giddy. You smiled to yourself, perking your head up at him when he entered. He took a seat, looking as if he had dashed here in a hurry. He placed his case down, finally stopping his movements for a moment to get a good look at you.

You gingerly picked up your teacup, motioning towards him. “It’s a rare blend, Newt. Imported from France.”

He hummed in interest, picking up his own cup and taking a sip. Once again humming in satisfaction, he placed the cup down and looked at you. “So, y/n, if I may ask, what is this if not a business meeting?”

“I think you know Newt.” You lightly chuckled as he returned the smile. “So, tell me, what brings you here? So far from London.”

“Oh, well,” he responded, immediately perking up, “I’m studying the land in an attempt to find a rather elusive type of pixie. They’re known to be picky about climate, so I’ve been sent all across the country to determine where they might be.”

“Fascinating,” you replied.

“And yourself?”

“Yes, well, the sight was the known location of a civilization ages ago, but our neighbors to the north have laid claim to any objects found at the sight. My team and I are trying to find as many objects as possible to hopefully connect a story as to their true origin. Or at least work out a deal with the wizards in Scotland. Normally I wouldn’t join in on the excavations, but this one seemed particularly interesting.”

“Well it worked out fantastically for you didn’t it?” He winked over the brim of his cup, taking another sip.

“I suppose it did.” You winked back at him, laughing playfully.

The two of you spent the next hours or so chatting like old friends. Everything from Hogwarts and climbing the ministry ladder to the changing economy and where Newt purchased his exquisite outfit. 

You both stood, heading out the door and stopping at the street. “I hate to sound overzealous, but it’s getting late. Newt, care to return to my hotel with me.”

Newt was about to pass out as his jaw practically hit the ground. “Absolutely.” He smiled, lacing his fingers with your own as the two of you walked.

You reached the nice hotel a few blocks later. The two of you ventured up to your room, where you fumbled with the key. Once the door was shut, you swiftly locked it and pulled Newt into a kiss.

He tensed in surprise at first, but quickly reciprocated. The kiss quickly deepend, and your tongue was about to meet his when he pulled away. “Y/n,” he breathed out, cupping your face in his hands, “Are you sure about this?” You nodded, fumbling with the buttons of his vest. He chuckled, placing a hand over yours on his chest. “I want to hear you, love.”

“Yes, Newt,” you practically moaned out. Satisfied, he leaned back down to press hips lips to your own.

The kiss quickly returned to the same passion, the two of you stumbling over to the bed. You both quickly flung your clothes off, never stopping your actions.

***

The next morning you woke up to a sleeping Newt beside you. You ran a hand along his bare chest, causing him to stir.

  “Morning, love,” he groaned, voice laden with sleep.

“Morning, Newtie.” You both shared a blush and a smile before reluctantly leaving the bed. 

You both dressed when he came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waste. “This was all wonderful, dear. What a pleasure it was to have met you.”

You chuckled, leaning up to give him a kiss. You both so obviously didn’t want to return to work. “It’s a shame I’ll be heading back to London tomorrow. When will I see you at the Ministry offices again?”

He glanced downward, not wanting to respond. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I have all of England to explore, and I’m only just over halfway there.”

“Oh,” you whispered. “How long have you been out so far?”

“Four months.” A heady air washed over the room, the two of you each taking a step back. 

“I can maybe move some things around…” you offered, “have your assignment changed.”

“That’s not necessary.” He noticed your crestfallen expression and took a step forward, taking your hand in his own. “Y/n, my darling, I am more than confident we will meet again soon. I shall be so pleased to even hope. My work is important, as is yours. The universe and ways will align properly, and we will encounter each other again when appropriate.”

You gave a shy smile, barely nodding. “Until we meet again, Newt. Fifth floor, you know where to find me.”

All he could do was smile and nod. He gave you one last kiss before slipping out of the door. 

You sighed deeply, already counting down the moments to when you’d see one and other once again.

Do we want a part 2??

Newt Taglist: @whenpugzfly @luckygirl144 @hockeyzegras @hess016 @hariosborn​ @it-was-three-am

[captains-writing-desk]

Inappropriate

Universe: BBC Sherlock

Character: Mycroft Holmes

Type: F!Reader insert (I, me, we)

Words: 2,011

Warnings: Swearing.

Note: Jesus lads... This was quite cathartic to write in a way. Took some interesting turns... I won’t lie it almost took a different turn towards the end with cheekiness ;)

Mycroft joins you on a walk after you get angry with him and his brother. Awkward angsty fluffiness ensues.

-

“Deduce me again Mycroft Holmes and I’ll see to it that you suffer.” I spoke without lifting my eyes from my reading material. He immediately averted his gaze and idly rolled his palm over the handle of his umbrella. “And tell your shit of a brother he can stop fucking trying too.” My voice did not waver once and remained low in tone- perhaps making it more sinister.

“I am right here.” The brother muttered from his arm chair and I raised my brow, peaking over the top of the newspaper for one moment just to reiterate, “Personally.”

“Well we can’t help it can we, it’s something we’ve always done, it’s not our fault that you’re more fun to try. “ Sherlock never knew when to shut up which was one trait Mycroft at least had the decency to inhabit.

“You CAN help by not turning me into a game.” Mycroft looked rather offended as did his brother, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re hardly sneaky about it, seeing who can get a deduction first and just how much fucking money have you both put into this hm? Acting shocked as if you were being so fucking sneaky, you haven’t fooled anybody... Dickheads.”

“I’m sorry, you turned someone’s trauma into a game?” John piped up emerging from the kitchen , my eyes narrowed at him.

“You boys should be ashamed of yourselves. Such an awful thing to do.” Mrs. Hudson followed from the kitchen who was met with a direct glare and with that, I folded the paper up neatly and rose to my feet.

“I rather despise this household sometimes. I’m going for a walk.” I’d had quite enough of this nonsense and had thrown my coat on and shut the front door behind me before anyone could speak up.

“Rather foul mouthed isn’t she?” Sherlock commented.

“Hot blooded.” John hummed in agreement.

“I find it rather endearing, oddly.” Mycroft mused as the room openly stared at him which he took as his cue to also leave.

-

“I’ll scream.” Mr. Government had caught up to me and I just couldn’t be hassled to deal with him and yet, he persisted.

“I don’t doubt that. Bare in mind however, that we are in London. Nobody would even flinch if you screamed.” He reasoned.

“What if I screamed 'bomb' and threw something?” Highly insensitive yes but I was angry.

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes and what a lovely mess that’ll leave you to deal with.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” His voice a little grave.

“Then perhaps you should bugger off hm?”

“Perhaps.” Yet he remained by my side even as my pace quickened, the swearing had subsided a little so I couldn’t be quite as angry right?

“Where exactly are you walking to?” I suppose my route made no sense to him, then again, made no sense to me either.

“Why do you want to know? Just follow.”

“So I can follow you now? No need to ‘bugger off'?” He was amused, but not at his comment, rather at the fact I would let him tag along. Not amusement, elation.

“You would be following me regardless and by that standard all you need to know is which way I am pointing and that will be where you’re going too.”

“I see. So we are just wandering aimlessly?”

“I am wandering aimlessly. YOU are wandering after me.” Why did that make him feel stupid? Perhaps it made him think too much into why he liked to stay around me as long as he could.

“Yes, sir.” He was making it seem like my fault, as if I’m ordering him to follow me. Can’t say I minded it.

-

We made it to Whitehall gardens and ambled through, staring at the flora that had started to turn with the autumnal weather. I was hungry now as I walked through the park and down to the embankment so I bought a pretzel from a little hut whilst Mycroft trailed behind on the phone about something so I expected him to leave soon.

I sat myself down on the wall with one leg tucked underneath myself so that my body was turned slightly and I could gaze through the bars my back rested against and watch the river.

Moments later Mycroft came and sat next to me, mirroring my pose only with his leg crossed over the other instead and he watched me for a moment until I looked at him.

“You can go. I’m quite happy sat here.” Not that he needed my permission to go but it felt as if I needed to remind myself that he could go, that I didn’t need him with me.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.” He raised a brow when he saw me relax, a wave of relief washing over me then the lamposts all turned on, what with the shorter autumnal days. I glanced around at the red leaves now lit up in this strange new light then back to Mycroft who had an amused smile fringing on his lips.

“Good,” I smiled, feeling an odd new confidence, “Do you mind if I stay here a bit longer?”

“Not at all.” He leaned back on the rails slightly as I took a bite of my pretzel, still warm from the vendor.

“Here.” I noticed Mycroft pull the sleeves of his coat down a little from the cold so I tore the pretzel in half and offered him a piece. ‘Does he even like common food?’ I thought and laughed internally at how odd that sounded. “It’s warm” I added still holding it to him. He thought about it as if it was a big decision but eventually took it.

“Thank you.” He smiled, thankful for the bit of warmth it provided him.

“It won’t kill you. Probably.” I looked out across the river feigning being suspicious.

“I’ll take my chances.” He chuckled and took a bite, humming at how surprisingly nice it was as I took the last bite of my own half and shook the crumbs of my hands then tucked them between my thighs to keep them warm.

Once he finished his half he turned further towards me and leaned in slightly.

“I apologise for earlier. It was uncouth of me.” He cleared his throat nervously but looked directly into my eyes where I saw the sincerity in his apology.

“It’s alright, You can’t help it. Besides,” I sighed, “I know you do it often- both of you. I suppose today I wasn’t in the best of moods to put up with it.” Truth be told I’d had a shit day. The sort of day where everyone I encountered decided to make my day worse than the last person had.

“Did anything happen?” He asked and I looked at my hands for a moment before furrowing my brows and looking back up to him.

“I’m not traumatised you know? That’s just John’s theory on me.” I wasn’t sure why I started with that but I suppose it did feed into why my day was crap but more than anything really, I felt the need to explain myself to Mycroft. Maybe explain why I was so difficult and rude. He sensed I had more to say and let me finish.

“Truthfully I'm not really sure what’s wrong with me. I just can’t seem to figure out how to figure out what I feel or what to do. Some things I understand but then I just get overwhelmed to point where I just numb down. I can’t quite explain it but I it just makes me cold and it scares me. I never used to be like this and I don’t mean to be cold but I just am. Then when people point it out it makes me feel like shit and I get agitated but with the wrong people.” I started to choke up, “So I don’t know. I don’t mean to be that way.” I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting to distract myself.

“You’re not cold. I’m sure anyone that knows you can tell you that. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” He made no great speech just a simple reassurance and it was that- reassuring. “I've never understood people. They are idiots.” He summarised and I laughed.

“That is true. Yes. Mycroft I-“ I looked at him and he leaned in expectantly, “I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.” I shot him an apologetic look.

“It’s quite alright. I’m glad you felt you could say it though. That and it’s my job to make people talk sometimes.” He joked.

“Don’t pull that crap. I did it because I needed to not because you made me. I'd never crack in an interrogation.” I teased.

“We shall see.” He lifted his brow and watched me carefully.

“Did I not say that you would suffer if I caught you deducing me again?” You narrowed your eyes at him with a smile threatening to escape.

“You did.” Though he didn’t stop watching and even cocked his brow playfully which surprised me. Was he flirting? A sadistic smile slowly crept up my face.

“Are you flirting with me?” I returned the scrutinising look and he was taken aback.

“Excuse me?” He recoiled.

“You heard me. Are you flirting with me?” I demanded now, leaning in to catch his eyes until he finally looked at me. “You are flirting.” I could see it in his eyes and I was surprised by my own realisation and honestly elated though I tried to conceal it. Though now I had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate.” He finally spoke, breaking my train of racing thoughts then he stood up. My heart skipped a beat, I didn’t want him to leave. He turned to me and I looked up at him with my brows furrowed, unsure how to proceed. “Perhaps I should l-.“ I pushed myself into my knees, grabbing the lapels of his coat and kissed him. I knew what he was going to say and leaving was not an option so I panicked. I pulled away and searched his shocked expression.

“There.” I took a deep breath and sank back to sit on the feels of my feet, “Now we’ve both done something inappropriate.” I laughed nervously under my breath, drowning in my own awkwardness and searching for any words to say to make this moment go away. I definitely misread the situation, he was definitely not flirting. My head flopped into my hands and I groaned.

“I fucked up... I’m sorry.” I mumbled through my fingers. I only wanted to tease him, make him suffer a little, but now we were both suffering for the wrong reasons.

“You didn’t fuck up.” Mycroft’s voice was gentle as his palm rested between my shoulder blades, pulling me forward until my head rested against his stomach. I really hoped he would forgive me for this cock up but I couldn’t bring myself to show my face, now or ever. However, we couldn’t stay like this forever so he grabbed my hand that was still glued to my face in shame and he urged me to stand up. My legs felt like they barely worked but I managed to sort of flop to my feet in front of him , dropping my other hand to my side and just stared at his chest. He let go of my hand and if my heart could drop any further it would have but instead, it shot up into my throat when he grabbed my waist with both hands. I looked up to see him smile then pull me into him as he lowered his lips to my own.

He pulled back to look at me fluttering my eyes open and staring slack jawed.

“You didn’t fuck up.” He repeated and squeezed my waist reassuringly which snapped me out of my daze. I bit my lip trying to stop the smile they crept onto my lips.