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hobidreams · 4 years ago

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november 1868.

but you’ve always been his, haven’t you?

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst words: 2.8k contains: historical au, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship dynamics (but era-appropriate; you know how it goes), explicit sexual content, longing.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble eight. start from the beginning?

If there is one inevitability in life, it is that time goes on.

You, like everyone else under King Yoongi’s reign, simply do your best to survive with your head intact. With the ground now mostly frozen over with ice, you have no reason to visit the gardens, and honestly, it becomes less of a loss by the day. You have your hands full with work; the worsening winter always means a higher possibility of catching an illness for the court ladies, and so you are left with little time to think of the king. Willful ignorance is a powerful defense mechanism when even the mere mention of him brings a frown to your lips and a lingering pressure in your chest.

But it is impossible not to think of him today, on the 11th of November. What would have been Queen Jeonghui’s birthday, but is instead a day of mourning.

All official business has more or less halted for the day. The entire palace is somber, the occupants moving through familiar routines feeling numb from more than just the cold. You are among their number, having finished all the work that could distract you while the sun set. Now, you wander in the pitch dark, through the open corridor towards your quarters with heaviness in every step.

You miss her laugh. The queen had always treated you like one of her own, asking after your interests, new discoveries, and health even while her own dwindled. You miss hearing the stories of her surprisingly rambunctious life before she came to court. You miss the brightness in her voice when she spoke of the hopes she had for the future of the kingdom, and for her precious Yoongi. You blink away a tear as your journey comes to its end.

In your small but private room, you begin to undo the straps of your hanbok with the relieving sense that this day is almost over. Stripped to your undergarments, you’re eager to crawl beneath the warm blankets and let blissful sleep take you into tomorrow as soon as your eyes shut.

Except sleep is not easily persuaded to come tonight, as you soon learn.

Even when you force your body to stay still as long as possible, even when you try to block out all thought and simply imagine blankness before you, you remain no closer to dreams, forcibly stuck in this bleak reality. That’s when your exhausted mind begins to wander to places most dangerous, even though you already vowed to stay far, far away.

You wonder whether the king is alone in his grief tonight. Has he eaten properly, or has he completely shut himself away? Does he even have enough heart left to mourn from all you’ve witnessed these past months?

(This last thought is what makes you ache the most, despite yourself.)

Then a quiet voice mutters your name from outside.

You blink and look up, uncertain whether it was just the wind. Who would it be at this late hour anyway? Who would be so bold as to call your name and not your title? But then the sound comes again, louder this time with some impatience in the syllables, and you realize exactly whose voice it must be.

Scrambling to your feet with the chill of losing the blanket sweeping over you, you have a split second to decide between keeping him waiting and having a proper appearance. You land somewhere in the middle, pulling on a loose, long jeogori that was once your mother’s before throwing the door wide open before you can think it through.

Damn all the odds.

It really is him.

In the moonlight, his hair seems almost ethereal with the way most of it cascades loosely around his shoulders. It’s fine, pale gold, spilling across the crimson dye of the royal robes that have been left slacker than is normally allowed in public company. There’s still a hardness in those midnight eyes, a set obstinacy in lips twisted down for a scowl that seems all too inherent to him now.

“Jeonha,” you exhale, more breath than sound.

How are you meant to receive him after all that has happened?

Wordlessly, he moves forward. You flatten yourself against the wall to allow him entry into your tiny home, your world without question, just like you always have. His sleeves brush past you as he walks and the incredibly subtle scent of plum blossoms begins to swirl around the air, so familiar it brings a hot sting to your eyes in an instant.

“Is that—”

“Shut the door.” His voice is biting, forcing you to drop the question.

You have little choice in the matter. When you turn back to face him, this room feels about three times smaller with the imposing aura that emanates from him. He has never felt more like a king to you than now, staring at you down his nose like he holds your life in his palm. At this distance, you fear he can hear the palpitations of your treacherous heart.

“Um.” You involuntarily wrap your hands around your stomach, trying to calm the jitters. “…How may I help you, jeonha?”

His lips curl in a smirk, but there is no real humor in it. “You must know the only thing a man and woman can do alone at night?”

Surprise is so blatant on your face that it amuses him; the smirk grows wider but remains empty still.

“You— You wish to do that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Did you or did you not say to come if I had anything I required?”

He remembered. He knew it was you. A part of you thaws, just an inch.

“Still— Must… Must it be tonight?” Of all nights.

“It has to be.”

You swallow, dry. All you know of the act are the medical descriptions and consequences of such copulation as written out in your studied texts. To think of such a thing occurring in real life— to even consider it with the king! It was beyond your wildest thoughts, even when you used to let your childhood fantasies soar. But even more ludicrous than that, for him to consider being with you, a mere uinyeo when all the ministers routinely brought their high-born daughters to court in hopes of tempting him… “W-What of the court ladies, the ones waiting to be made concubine…?”

At your last word, he scowls like a bolt of lightning, gone before you can confirm that it was there at all. “I see.” He shifts, as if already prepared to leave. “I should have gone to them first.”

Your stomach drops.

The prospect of a random woman wrapping herself around him in seduction, holding him closer than he’s ever been to you… You wince. The mere thought of how he might fit against her, leave a part of himself inside her body, strikes envy deep into your mind. Especially when you consider all that could follow such an intimate act.

You know it’s not your place to be so concerned; it never has been, but damn it. Here he is in front of you, and not them. That has to mean something.

“No!” You blurt out, and watch his face darken with satisfaction. That in itself makes you fiercely aware of how much he has changed but still, you say, “no. Don’t… don’t go.”

In a stroke of boldness, you slip the jacket from your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

“Good girl.”

It all happens so quickly.

Grasping your arm, he brings you to him with one strong tug. Invades your space with his heat. You’ve never been this physically close before but you are given no time to savor it. Your eyes search his for a hapless second before he forces his gaze away with a light whip of his hair. For a second, you think like he might kiss you, but that particular touch never comes.

“Bed.” The air around the word makes it sound like he’s rushing as he pulls you both towards the mussed bedspread, but of course it’s not that. It’s almost laughable, the thought that he would want so badly to claim you as his. It’s more likely that he wants any warm body beneath him, and you happened to be the most convenient.

As he pushes you to the floor, as he begins to strip you of your undergarments, your mind struggles to set aside your worries and the rest of the world with it to focus on the feeling of his unobstructed fingers on the skin he reveals with each passing second. For a moment, it works. For a moment, all you know is the heat of his desire as he throws aside most of your coverings, then discards his own as if they were nothing more than cleaning rags. Staring at his bare body for the first time, you take in all the lean muscle that make up his chest, the paleness of his skin that brings to mind the word delicate. It’s at complete odds with the ugliness that’s surrounded him for so long and really, you don’t know what to believe anymore as he rakes his eyes over you too.

You’re shivering. Keenly aware of your nakedness, made even more stark when your king practically fixes you to the floor with his presence alone. He must know this is all new to you, that he’s the only one able to put you in this position even after everything he’s done. But will that afford you the tenderness you so crave? Your pulse thunders in your ears as you await the answer.

“Turn over. On your hands and knees.”

Your breath hitches.

He doesn’t even want to look at your face.

You choke back the emotion that yearns to spill over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing exactly how he affects you when he doesn’t allow you the same luxury. You’re stronger than this, even though your fears have just been confirmed. That this, his broad hand harshly squeezing your ass, is the only reason he broke through the thick wall of silence between you. That he treats you just like any other woman, not one he’s known all his life.

What does it say about you that you’re still willing to give him everything?

His other hand trails down your back as if lightly scratching an invisible character there. Then, when he reaches for your sokgot, the last bit of cloth left to you, it truly hits you that there will be no going back from this. Not after he physically carves himself into your memory. It makes you unthinkingly tense up; in turn, the hands against you stutter to a pause.

The silence feels thick, smothering. Then—

“Are you afraid of me?”

“No.”

You say it before you can decide whether it’s the truth or merely what you wish would be the truth.

“Hm.”

He leaves you wondering if that was the answer he wanted and resumes, undoing the ties, pulling away the layer that wants to cling to the slight wetness between your thighs. Evidently not one for wasting time, and why would he linger when he just wants an easy release anyway, he runs the tip of his thumb down your slit before pushing eagerly into your heat. The lewd moan that you emit is a noise you’ve never made before, and it makes your face burn with shyness.

You’ve touched yourself like this perhaps three times ever, more out of medical curiosity than anything. You didn’t quite see a point in it when it just left you feeling lonely once the high faded. But under your king’s control, it feels maddeningly new. Maybe it’s because you don’t know what he’s going to do next, like when he suddenly pushes in a second finger and you feel the spike of pain work its way through your limbs before giving way to the next wave of pressure. It’s just almost too much to take, his insistent kneading against your dripping walls.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight. Just for me? Only take my fingers like this?” He feeds you another finger when you nod, huffing a smirk at your whine. The unfamiliar words are as harsh as his hands. You’ve never heard him like this, so rough and cocksure, practically an utter stranger. But a stranger could never bring out such overwhelming emotions in your chest, your poor, confined heart.

Your legs are soon shaking with the strain of holding up your weight when pleasure and pain war so intensely in your body; but you don’t dare collapse in surrender, even though this has always been a losing battle. Not even when he rears back, replacing his cream-slick hand with what you think is the blunt head of his cock. He whets it along your folds and it feels so much thicker, intimidating like the rest of him. But you want it. You realize then just how much you want it, even if this is all you’ll have of him when it’s over.

He leans over you, hot breath whisking across your back, a palm on your hip. “I’m your first.” It sounds like a boast. “No one else.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No one else.”

And he takes his first stroke.

Hisses when he feels you squeeze around him, and you wonder if this is his first time too. Then you have to force yourself to stop thinking about that altogether, afraid that the real answer might hurt more than this: the ache of being spread apart with every brutal, solid inch, filled too quickly by a man who doesn’t seem like he could take things slow even if he wanted to. He keeps shoving forward, biting down every surfacing grunt as his nails dig into your waist and it hurts. It hurts so much but you grit your teeth, refusing to back down because you need him to know that you can take this. Even when your mouth feels drier with every yelp, every moan, you tell yourself it’ll be easier the next time he wants to have his way with you. Right now, that seems better than not feeling him at all.

“This cunt,” he finally growls when he bottoms out, for once sounding so unbridled that goosebumps speed down your weakening arms. But you find yourself liking the sound, craving it even as he pauses to catch his breath.

The first few thrusts are slightly awkward. Just his hips bumping against your ass as he tries to find his footing. It doesn’t take long until he picks up a rhythm. Starts to slam into you, jolting you forward. Soreness starts to grow exponentially with a foreign feeling you think might just be pleasure spreading throughout all of you. You concentrate on that in lieu of your knees forced repeatedly against the hardness of the wooden floor, the bedding too thin to provide any real comfort.

“Jeonha,” you gasp on a particularly deep thrust, and he seems to like that. Strokes faster in response (or perhaps reward). You don’t even register that you’re half-smiling when he does, having learned something about him that is privy to only the two of you.

On top of that, he can’t seem to stop touching you. It goes beyond the way he fucks into you, more into how he can’t stop exploring the expanse of your back with his nails or with his mouth, sucking stinging marks into your body. It’s as if he needs to have as much skin contact with you as he will allow himself, needs to feel your warmth just as much as you crave his. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, but you try again with a hoarse, “jeonha.” He gives it to you harder, rousing, stoking that dangerous tension.

You don’t even notice his mouth beside your ear until— “Mine.”

He claims you, and something inside you melts. Not a particularly powerful feeling but a sea change nonetheless, a weak peak that ripples out, thrums through you both. He allows you to submit to the sensation for a few scarce seconds before he tears himself away, leaving you to pulse around nothing, whimpering from the emptiness. You barely recognize the sound of skin on skin friction but suddenly, heat splatters across your back, white painting itself over your skin as he gives one, elongated exhale and it’s over.

The king backs up, shifts away. Lets any lingering warmth between you dissipate into the ice air of winter, but this time he holds your gaze with a certain firmness, as if trying to pluck out the slivers of truth in your expression. In his eyes, the thin scar ever carved down the right, you find only more depths. Fathomless, endless depths – dark and painful still.

#ficswithluv #bts smut #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi #bts angst #historical au #daechwita #rain writes #moonlit throne #... how do you feel about him now?

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harryspet · 4 years ago

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meet me in the library [p.p]

Warnings: dark!peter parker x reader, bully!peter, friends with benefits, dubcon, public sex, fingering

A/N: this was supposed to be an entire oneshot eventually to include dark!bucky but it didn’t turn out how i wanted so I’m sharing this small bit :) this is also a loose continuation of my other fic Rude Boy so I would read that one first!

Spiderboy: where are u??

lunch is almost over

You: in the library

looking for something for class

Spiderboy: i thought we agreed that i like a certain level of communication

You: sorry

i’ll see you in sixth period??

Spiderboy: whatever

You sighed, tightly squeezing your phone out of frustration before tucking in the back pocket of your jeans. The librarian behind the desk was typing away at her computer, looking for the textbook that you requested, “Lucky for you, we have one copy,” She smiled up at you, “What makes you so interested in the … Psychology of the Supernatural?”

“Oh, it’s for a project,” You lied, “You know how out-of-the-box Mr. Harrington is.”

“That I do,” She easily believed it, “It’s in the relics, all the way in the back, but I’m sure you’ll be able to find it.” She gave you the books number and section and you were on your way.

You did you fair share of elective reading which usually included teen romance and fantasy novels. You’d never gained an interest into psychology until you met Peter. He often kept you up at night, completing his many styles of torture, but now you were up late just trying to glimpse into that brain of his.

Asking him was not an option seeing as how the boy had about a million layers of defense mechanisms to get through. Even when you did seem to get through to him, to ask him serious questions-

“You shouldn’t be skipping meals,” You practically jumped out of your skin when he appeared around the bookcase, “You’re already as weak as you are.” He flashed you his charming smile, clearly amused that you were clutching your heart and breathing heavily.

“Jesus, Peter,” You whisper-yelled, “What are you doing?”

“You shouldn’t make me wait to see you,” He moved closer to you, and you noticed his shirt had a science pun on it that you definitely didn’t get. You could understand why everyone fell for his nice boy appearance. Before you could open your mouth, he was grabbing you by the waist, and pushing his lips against yours. You pushed at his chest, stepping backwards until your back hit one of the book cases.

“Pete-” You tried to say as he hungrily devoured your lips, “P-Peter, stop-”

When he finally did pull away, his eyes were focused on your lips, “What? Worried someone’s gonna hear? Just keep your mouth shut and we’ll be fine,” He went back to kissing you, his hands on your neck and grabbing your face.

“Peter,” You pushed back against him, although you did enjoy the feeling of his lips, “Why … Why can’t you ever just talk to me?”

He sighed heavily, his lips red from the rough kissing, “We talk all the time, Y/N,” He raised an eyebrow. “Too much, I think.”

You shook your head, “I mean, without you saying rude things. You don’t have to be nice to me, but at least we could talk about something normal …”

He chuckled a bit, his hands falling down back to your waist. A shiver went down your spin as he began to run his fingers along the waist band of your jeans, “What do you want to talk about?” Your eyes widened a bit, surprised at his reaction.

“I don’t know,” You said initially, “Normally, people start with ‘how are you’ or ‘how was your day’.”

“That’s boring, surface level stuff. Next you’re gonna expect me to start caring about your zodiac sign,” That sounded more like the Peter you knew, “How about I ask what you’re doing this weekend?”

You raised your eyebrow this time, “Uh … studying, probably.”

“Wrong,” You wanted to roll your eyes so badly, “You’re hanging out with me.”

“Peter, you telling me what to do isn’t a conversation,” You spoke, your voice as stern as you could muster, “And I have to study this weekend.”

He gave you an incredulous look as if he couldn’t fathom your disappointment, “I’m sure we’ll get some studying done at some point,” You jumped a bit as you suddenly felt his fingers sliding between the front of your panties. You grabbed onto his strong hand but your strength was useless against his, “You don’t have to ask your parents if I can come over, we’re going to my place this time.”

“Your place?-” You bit down on your lip hard as his fingers brushed over your sensitive bulb. He moved his hand in slow, teasing circles as he smirked at you.

“I wanna show you the compound upstate,” His pace began to quicken and you gripped his arm tightly, mentally cursing, “I can give you a special, VIP tour. You know, perks of knowing Spiderman.”

“Peter-ah!”

Your cheeks heated with embarrassment and you hoped that no one could see the two of you. This part of the library was desolate but all of this was still risky, “What do you think, huh? Wanna meet the Avengers?” He asked rhetorically, knowing you’d scream out if you opened your lips, “Go ahead, tell me, I know you’re fangirling … No? Well, excuse me for trying to have a conversation with you.”

You hated yourself for it but you felt your hips beginning to grind against his hand.

When you finally came against his fingers, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Peter sensed this, smashing his lips against yours again and swallowing your moans, “Mmmmm,” your body shook but Peter held you tightly.

hop you enjoyed!

#dark fic #dark drabble #peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter Parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #spider-man: far from home

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sunshineandaisies · 4 years ago

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Pikachu Problems

Words: ~1.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: language, very minor sexual suggestions

Note: I am currently sick- thus, this was created. Also watched a bunch of Teen Wolf while writing this, so took inspiration from Kira’s thunder kitsune powers for the reader’s powers.

It had started off as just sniffles – an occasional sneeze here and a blown nose there – but within the course of a few days, what you had hoped was just allergies had turned into a full-blown, misery-inducing cold.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it were a normal cold, but because normal wasn’t in your vocabulary, you had been placed on quarantine to stop your sneezing and coughing from taking down an entire electrical grid in the city. Instead, you were irritating Tony every ten minutes as the lights flickered within Stark Tower and F.R.I.D.A.Y. updated him on the power outages throughout the building that your sneezing and coughing was causing.

“Kid, I’m gonna need you to stop shorting the power in the lab,” he had told you over the intercom after your latest coughing fit had caused a slight blackout within that part of the building. “Do we need to get some lightning rods for you or something? Maybe pad your room in rubber? I’ll take any suggestions, kid. Anything that’ll help keep you from frying the equipment in my lab.”

If you hadn’t been absolutely miserable, his growing frustration may have been funny.

Your quarantine only made you more miserable. You hadn’t been to school in days – hell, you’d barely left your room. Your meals were brought to you, your supply of tissues restocked every other day when Bucky or Bruce would leave a plastic bag from the drug store outside of your door, and your communication with others was done solely through the intercom or with F.R.I.D.A.Y. serving as a messenger.

To make matters worse, on the third day of you quarantine a particularly powerful sneeze had shorted all the electronics in your room. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been unable to access your room for three hours while Tony repaired the damage, your laptop had to be completely wiped in order to assess the damage, and your phone – well, your phone was fried.

That’s probably why, on the sixth day of your quarantine, a friendly neighborhood Spider-Boy showed up at Stark Tower, rambling on and on about unanswered texts and awkward voicemails – that you definitely needed to listen to once Tony sorted out your phone situation – and ‘why the hell weren’t you in school all week’.

“C’mon, Mr. Stark. Let me in to see her,” you heard Peter begging through the intercom after he had finally managed to track Tony down after trying and failing to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to open the door to your bedroom for nearly thirty minutes. “I just wanna make sure she’s feeling okay.”

“Kid, the last thing we need is a fried spider,” was Tony’s response, making you roll your eyes.

“I won’t hurt him,” you defended, your throat sore and scratchy from days upon days of feeling like you would cough up a lung. “I just want some cuddles, and I don’t see anyone else lining up at my door to cuddle me.” You sneezed, and the lights in your room flickered. You hoped your sneezed hadn’t affected the electricity anywhere else or you’d never convince Tony to let Peter into your room. “Please, Tony,” you pleaded. “I just want to see Peter.”

“Please, Mr. Stark,” Peter joined your pleading, and you knew that with the combined efforts of the two of you, he’d crack eventually. “She won’t hurt me. I know she won’t.”

You heard the older man groan over the intercom, and after another second, the lock on your door disengaged. “Thank you, Tony!” you exclaimed at the same time as Peter happily shouted, “You’re the best, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Tony warned, sounding just as exasperated as you imagined he was. You smiled widely despite knowing that neither Tony nor Peter could see you. Tony Stark was good at many things but being able to tell his protégé and his ward no when they both pressed hard enough was not one of those things.

Within ten minutes, Peter was at your door. He had a fuzzy blanket draped over his shoulders, a steaming bowl of soup in his hands, and his laptop tucked under one arm while a fresh box of tissues was tucked under the other. He beamed at you when you opened the door, but his smile quickly faded as he took in your appearance. “You, uh- you look like-”

“Shit?” you guessed, hating how nasally your voice sounded. You tried to laugh when you saw his cheeks tinge pink as he shrugged, but your attempt at laughing quickly turned into a coughing fit. The lights flickered again, and Peter’s eyed you skeptically.

“Is this why you haven’t been answering my texts and calls all week?” he asked, though you assumed he already knew the answer to that question. You cocked your head to the side and raised a brow at him, moving to the side to let him into your room and past you. “You killed your phone, didn’t you?”

“Can you kill something that was never alive to begin with?” you asked rhetorically. You crawled onto your bed and crossed your legs, waiting for Peter to join you. “Did I fry my phone and make it completely unusable? Yes. Did I kill it? No.”

“Sounds like you killed it,” he quipped with a teasing grin. “Here. Pepper made this for you.” He handed you the bowl of soup, and you happily took it from him, inhaling the steam that rose off the liquid and letting it warm your throat and sinuses. You sighed in relief as you felt it soothing the inflammation that made it difficult to breath and speak. The sound didn’t escape Peter’s attention, and he smiled softly at you before settling a hand on your bare knee. “Better?”

“I will be,” you reassured and returned his smile. You let him mother hen you as you ate the soup in quiet. He made sure you had enough water, made sure that you weren’t feeling feverish, made sure that a box of tissues was within your reach, made sure that you were comfortable – ‘Peter, you really don’t need to fluff my pillows again’ – and made sure that you had taken the recommended dose of cough syrup throughout the day.

Finally – finally! – he joined you on the bed after pulling the now empty bowl from your hands and setting it on the bedside table. “Someone asked for cuddles?” he questioned sheepishly – and oh so adorably – as he settled in the spot beside you.

“I believe that someone is me,” you returned. You moved closer to him, but something in the back of your mind made you stop. “Are you sure?”

His face twisted in confusion and his brow furrowed tightly. “Sure about what?”

“That I won’t hurt you.” Right on cue, you coughed, causing the lights to flicker once again. “I can’t control it, Peter. I could hurt you, and if that happens, I don’t know what I-”

Your train of thought was interrupted by a warm hand on your cheek and soft brown eyes boring into yours. “Y/N, I literally trust you with my life. Out there and in here.” His thumb trailed over your cheekbone, his touch igniting your sense. You really wished you weren’t sick. If you were healthy, you’d definitely pounce and show him your appreciation for him and his trust.

“Aren’t you worried about getting sick?”

He shrugged. “Seems like it’s nothing more than a cold, but your powers are making it, like, ten times worse for you.” His hand dropped away from your face, but his arms opened, inviting you into his embrace. “C’mere, pretty girl.”

“Pretty girl? Didn’t you say I looked like shit earlier?”

“In my defense, I never actually said that. You just assumed that that was what I was going to say.” You scooted closer to Peter and slumped into his arms, sighing at the contact after going days without. “But you’re always a pretty girl. Even if you’re sick and look like shit.”

You swatted at his shoulder and laughed, but another coughing fit soon took over. The lights flickered overhead and a mechanically buzzing in the walls could be heard for a few seconds before the room grew silent once more. Once you were sure that the need to cough had died down, you relaxed against Peter. “Can we take a nap? Please?”

“Yeah, of course.” He guided your bodies down to the mattress, settling your heads atop your pillow and pulling the blanket over your bodies. “You’ll tell me if you need anything?”

“Definitely,” you murmured against the skin of his neck, your eyes drooping shut. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too, pretty girl,” you heard Peter respond before you finally let your exhausted body rest.

When you woke up a few hours later, your body shaking from your latest coughing fit, the New York skyline was lit up with different shades of pinks and reds and oranges as the sun sank below the horizon. Peter bolted awake beside you, a comforting hand on your back to rub soothing circles over the fabric of your t-shirt.

Again, the lights flickered, and the mechanical buzzing sound returned, even louder than before. This time, though, the lights grew brighter and brighter before your bedroom was eventually plunged into darkness.

“Peter,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he reassured quickly. “I’m fine, but, uh-” He held up his phone, the screen remaining completely black as he pressed the home button over and over again. “I think you killed my phone.”

You groaned and flopped back against your mattress, covering your face with your hands. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

You were interrupted by Tony’s voice over the intercom, sounding just as irritated as you imagined he was. “Okay, Pikachu.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Not sure how you managed to do it, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. can’t access anything on your floor. The locks, the lights, the elevator. All of it. Until I can figure out how to fix this, you’re not going anywhere. That means you, too, Spiderling.”

“But Aunt May said to-” The distinct click of the intercom disconnecting sounded, and Peter slumped against the mattress beside you, pressing his face into your neck. “I guess I’m stuck here.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” you quipped.

You felt him smile against your neck while his arm wound itself around your waist. “I’m not complaining,” he defended. He pressed his lips to your neck in a soft kiss, and you sighed happily, fingers twining in his messy hair. To prove his point, he pressed kisses along the column of your neck, across your jaw and cheeks, and finally firmly against your lips. “I’m definitely okay with being stuck in my girlfriend’s bedroom. Even if she’s sick and unintentionally causing blackouts in the building.”

You smiled against his lips as he settled himself between your legs, and you whispered, “Whoever said giving you a perfectly good reason to stay the night was unintentional?”

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ticklystuff · 4 years ago

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Liquid Eyeliner

A/N: i know nothing about makeup lol i just wanted lee!Zhongli

Word Count: 2k

“I really like this color on you.”

“Hu Tao was actually the one that chose it for me,” Zhongli said, giving a slight smile to the other as he looked straight ahead, doing his best not to shift his head or move his facial muscles around too much. Normally, he would be applying the eyeliner under his eyes himself, but for some reason, Childe insisted on doing it this time for him. He wasn’t exactly comfortable about letting Childe put the brush so close to his eye, but the ginger had insisted and Zhongli wasn’t one to say no, especially since Childe bought the eyeliner for him earlier.

“I can tell you’re worried,” Childe said, pulling his hand back and giving the other a small pout.

Zhongli shook his head and gave the other a nervous smile. “Not at all. Just make sure you do it properly.”

“I’ve actually had some practice before,” Childe told the other as he brought his hand back, placing the tip of the brush right under Zhongli’s eye.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, my sister used to ask me to do make up with her when I was younger. I always tried to make her look like a circus clown,” Childe chuckled, keeping his hand steady. “She’d practice on me all the time too and she actually got quite good. I even let her paint my finger and toe nails.”

Zhongli smiled as he listened to Childe reminisce. Childe loved to tell Zhongli different stories about his siblings and Zhongli always caught the happiness in his voice when he spoke of his siblings. Childe always talked about having his siblings meet him and Zhongli looked forward to that day.

“Hmm,” Childe took a step back to examine his work. “I think I might have smudged it a little bit. I think I should just restart. Let me grab a wet napkin.”

“Water won’t remove it,” Zhongli told the other. “The media is oil-based, so the eyeliner is insoluble in water. I have a bottle of sweet flower oil in the drawer next to you that I use to wash the eyeliner off at night.”

Childe nodded and headed for the old drawer in Zhongli’s room. He opened the top drawer and couldn’t help but smile when he found the cologne he had purchased for Zhongli, the bottle half full. It was one of the many gifts that he had gotten for Zhongli during their multiple date nights in Liyue.

He rummaged around the top drawer for a good minute, before moving to the second drawer, making sure not to disturb the neat and orderly way Zhongli had placed his belongings. Thankfully, the bottle was in plain sight in the second drawer, with a piece of cloth conveniently placed beside it. He grabbed the two items before heading back to the older man, pouring a little of the solution onto the cloth and handing it to Zhongli.

“Maybe I should just do it myself,” Zhongli said as he did his best to wipe away the eyeliner, chuckling when Childe put his hands on his hips in defiance.

“I’ve already committed,” Childe told the other as he grabbed the thin brush before Zhongli could. “I’ll just steady my hand this time.”

“Alright, alright.” Zhongli sat back on his mattress, relaxing himself as Childe attempted once more.

Childe leaned in once more and brought the brush to Zhongli’s face again, but this time grabbed Zhongli’s shoulder firmly to help steady himself. This caught the older man by surprise, though, and Childe nearly jumped back in concern when Zhongli suddenly squealed.

“Sorry! Did I hurt you?!”

“No, I’m alright,” Zhongli affirmed to the other as he regained his posture. “Just caught me off guard.”

Childe looked at Zhongli with a puzzled expression. “Is there something wrong with your shoulder?”

Zhongli simply shook his head. “I’m alright. I’m not sure what came over me, but I’m fine.”

Childe nodded in response. He brought the brush back over to Zhongli’s face and brought his hand back to Zhongli’s shoulder, slowly this time, for balance. He carefully traced the brush under the amber eyes. He bit his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he concentrated on the task before him, something that Zhongli found to be quite endearing.

“Alright,” Childe muttered as he reached the corner of Zhongli’s eyes, pulling the brush away to take a look at his handiwork, his hand still on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I don’t think it’s that bad, if I do say so myself.”

Zhongli gave Childe a small smile as the other beamed over his work. “I’ll judge for myself. There should be a hand mirror in the drawer that you- Ah! H-Hey!”

Zhongli’s body cringed as he felt Childe squeeze his shoulder multiple times, his arms coming up in self-defense when Childe repeated the action. He looked up at the ginger to see a mischievous smirk plastered over Childe’s face, one that usually meant Childe was up to no good.

“Looks like Mr. Zhongli might be ticklish,” Childe teased, his smile growing wider when Zhongli began to stutter.

“I-I don’t- Wait! Ajax!”

Childe had pushed Zhongli back onto the mattress and straddled his waist, looming over the other with wiggly fingers ready for an attack. Zhongli never used his real name, unless he was irritated with Childe, but this was too good of an opportunity for Childe to pass up now. He’s already used to being berated from Zhongli on a constant basis anyway.

“Ahahaha! Childe!” Zhongli squealed as Childe brought his fingers menacingly to the older man’s underarms. Since he was in the comfort of his own home, Zhongli only had a thin t-shirt for protection, the shockwaves traveling from his armpits and hitting his brain like a wave.

Zhongli wasn’t going down without a fight and Childe constantly had to keep swatting away his arms, making it hard for him to tickle the older man consistently. Naturally, the ginger adapted to Zhongli’s defense mechanism and focused on his sides this time, giving each spot rabid jabs, one after the other in quick succession. This caused Zhongli to wiggle back and forth, attempting to avoid the alternating blows to his sides. Each poke resulted in a gasp or whine filled with husky giggles, something Childe considered music to his ears and only drove him to pick up the pace. He had never heard Zhongli laugh so much and it was quite addictive, so he figured

“Y’know, I used to tickle my siblings all the time,” Childe recalled as he began focusing on Zhongli’s hips, smiling as he found another good spot. “If any one of them ever felt down, they could always expect a visit from their friendly neighborhood tickle monster!”

“Ahahahaha! Chihihilde!” Zhongli wailed as Childe continuously pinched his hips methodically, his laughter drowning out whatever Childe was saying to him in the moment.

The only time he had ever been tickled was whenever Hu Tao needed his attention and it was only ever a short poke to his side. Not only was Childe much more aggressive, he was also much more skilled. Every poke and scribble elicited a new stream of laughter and his attempts at dislodging Childe were proving futile. He felt Childe’s hands moving over to his stomach, which renewed Zhongli’s efforts to squirm away. By chance, one of his flailing hands jabbed Childe in the side, pausing the tickling as Childe squeaked and involuntarily protected the sensitive spot with his hands. Zhongli used this brief moment of respite to try and push away from Childe, but the ginger recovered almost immediately.

“Hmm, this used to work on Teucer, so I wonder if it’ll be the same for you,” Childe thought out loud as he eyed Zhongli’s stomach. His shirt had ridden up just slightly to expose the well-toned abs and bare tummy, which only enticed Childe to try a different technique. “Heh, don’t kill me, okay?

“W-Wait! Childe w-what are you— NohohoHOHOHOHOHO!”

Zhongli flopped around on the bed and kicked his legs as Childe blew a raspberry into his stomach. The unfamiliar technique brought tears to the corners of Zhongli’s eyes as Childe repeated the action over and over. The sensation created such a strange feeling that made Zhongli’s mind feel like mush. He didn’t even try fighting back anymore as Childe sent one more his way, before stopping when he noticed Zhongli’s laughter had turned into silent wheezing.

Childe raised his head from Zhongli’s stomach to make sure the other was okay, taking in the sight of the older man. Zhongli’s face was bright red and his eyes were still screwed shut, with his mouth agape as he panted for air. His normally well-kempt hair was a mess and there were even a few tear streaks. When Childe felt he was staring too long, he lightly diddled his fingers along Zhongli’s bare stomach, causing Zhongli to gasp and open his eyes.

“Oh, hey, your eyeliner still looks good,” Childe said as he brought a finger to Zhongli’s eye to wipe away a stray tear.

“I already told you it’s not soluble in water,” Zhongli told the other curtly after catching his breath, looking away from the other as he spoke. It wasn’t easy to embarrass Zhongli, but he could feel his cheeks burning up after the ordeal Childe put him through.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me,” Childe awkwardly laughed as he lifted himself off of Zhongli and helped him up. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Zhongli sat up and fixed his clothes with a sigh, pushing his long hair behind his shoulders. “I’d hate to be one of your siblings, to be quite frank.”

“Maybe, but being my sibling comes with so many pros!” Childe said, smiling at the other as Zhongli rolled his eyes. “Speaking of which, we haven’t gotten to your other eye.”

“I wonder why,” Zhongli huffed sarcastically as Childe picked up the brush again. He crossed his arms as Childe brought the brush to his face, but he let Childe apply the lining to his eye like before, flinching when Childe put his hand against his shoulder again for balance.

“Don’t worry,” Childe chuckled, finishing up the liner. He pulled back the brush and used his other hand to lift Zhongli’s chin so that he could get a better look at his work. “Looks great!”

“Well, this took almost three times as long as it normally takes me,” Zhongli said as Childe went to get the hand mirror from the drawer. He took the mirror from Childe and examined the eyeliner. It was a little messy, but it wasn’t that bad.

“So, how did I do?”

Zhongli looked up to see Childe giving his usual charming smile and Zhongli couldn’t help but return a small smile back. “One could say it’s passable.”

Childe couldn’t help but cheer at the small win. “You should let me do your makeup all the time, Zhongli.”

“Perhaps,” Zhongli sighed, the thought of possibly going through another tickle session with Childe daunting to him. “Next time, though, how about we try some eyeliner on you?”

“I-I mean sure, I guess,” Childe said hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. “I’m not sure it’d look good on me the way it does for you and I’m not sure what my color would be.”

“Well, we can always go shopping for some later,” Zhongli suggested. “Why don’t I show how to apply it properly, though. We can use the one that I have.”

“N-Now?”

“Why not?”

“O-Okay,” Childe said nervously as he sat down, switching places with Zhongli. “Hey, you’re not still mad at me, right?”

“Of course not,” Zhongli said firmly, grabbing a fresh brush from his drawer before returning to Childe. “I want to show you how it’s properly done. Tickles and all.”

“Wait what? W-Wait ZhonglihihiHIHI!”

#Chili #childe #zhongli #genshin impact #tickling

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writhingcreature · 3 years ago

Note

I LOVE the idea of jock/nerd Mericcup and cheerleader/jock Rapunstrid, do you have any more headcanons for that au?

I tried writing this and got distracted and now O have to start from the beginning so... let’s try this again

- Hiccup keeps trying to ask Merida out but his awkwardness and self Doubt keep tying his tongue and hands and feet and he fails again and again. Merida knows what he’s trying to say but she wants to give him the chance to do it since she knows it might hurt his pride if she asks him. Eventually she does anyway though and Hiccup is so relieved he’s been put out of his misery he kisses her right then and there and everyone’s like OoO

- Hiccup and Astrid are neighbors and they grew up right next door to each other. Like, saw each other through the window and climbed onto each other’s roofs and such. They did that thing where they opened their windows and just... talked if they were too lazy to climb up onto the roof. So they’re like actually really close friends. As kids Astrid always found Hiccup annoying and it was like “your mom is friend with my mom” but eventually he started tutoring her and she thought she was doing fine at school but suddenly she was acing everything and it all made sense and after that she thought Hiccup was cool

- Merida and Rapunzel live quite a bit from each other but Merida skateboards and Rapunzel goes on morning bike rides and walks and jogs and skates (on rollerblades) and really ANYTHING that gets her out in the morning. They end up meeting when Merida falls off her skateboard and busting her knee - Rapunzel took care of it with the med kit she always takes with her everywhere. After that they were best friends and upon hitting middle school, joined sports together to figure out what they liked. Rapunzel was good at cheerleading, being very petite and acrobatic, and Merida was better at the classic sports (soccer, hockey, baseball, football, etc.). They do figure skating together. When Merida had to fight to be on the guys’ team, or just. Create a girls’ sports team, Rapunzel was there to support her every step of the way.

- Astrid and Merida are on a team together. Astrid does either hockey or soccer (or maybe both Idk which seasons they are but it feels like they’d be in different ones) but eventually Merida talks her into joining every one that Merida is in too. They get each other SO much and eventually develop like a secret language. No one knows if that’s true for sure, but these two girls can communicate without moving their body or saying a single word and it’s so effortless and perfect a system that people thought they were dating for the longest time. When someone finally brought it up (it was Snotlout) the two laughed so hard and so long that he blushed, and they NEVER let him live it down. It was just so absurd to them....

- Astrid and Rapunzel actually happened pretty fast. Everyone thought Astrid would take charge, and normally she does. She’s confident and sure of herself and has fingers in SO many pies, and she doesn’t ever shrink from any competition. Everything seems very easy for her and she never falters off fumbles... that is until she tries to talk to Rapunzel. Because Astrid can affectionately bulky Hiccup and Merida already gets her so well that she doesn’t have to try to communicate with her. But Rapunzel is... her opposite in a lot of ways. She’s small and soft spoken and artistic. Her mind is creative and her hands are gentle and her eyes are huge and her smile is warm. Rapunzel is this golden stream in a fairytale and Astrid is.... probably a rock. Of some kind. Anyway, the point is Rapunzel approaches her with that pretty smile and those large eyes and very clearly asks her out and Astrid’s lucky that Merida’s there to say yes for her because her mouth forgets how to move

- Rapunzel cheers SO LOUD for Astrid every game, and they start to sit on the bench together if there’s any free time. During the half time show, Astrid cheers just as loud for Rapunzel and the phrase “THATS MY GIRLFRIEND” gets thrown around a. Lot. They get super competitive all the time and end up having so much fun. Rapunzel is a bit of a softie and let Astrid win a lot in the beginning until Astrid called her out and called her a loser (affectionate) and from then it was ON. No one thought anyone could beat Astrid at anything until Rapunzel came around.

- Hiccup tries to follow what’s happening in the games but he often gets really distracted and confused and ends up analyzing the plays and bombarding everyone with questions afterward. Astrid and Merida eventually directed him to Rapunzel, who actually listened to him and realized how genius his ideas and observations were. They started to talk with the coach about ways to make the team better, and Hiccup eventually starts to just. Help the coaches in general and no one even asks anymore.

- Hiccup has a cat named Toothless and he and Rapunzel are the BEST of friends. Astrid didn’t like him at first but softened upon seeing Rapunzel and Hiccup be so adorable with the little creature. Toothless HATED Merida for the longest time no matter what she tried and it made everyone laugh constantly. Eventually the little thing warmed up to her but for a while there Merida stayed by Astrid “where it’s safe” as she said.

- Rapunzel also has a pet chameleon and she DOTES on that thing. She knows everything about them and anytime anyone asks about Pascal she just wants and rants and rants about fun facts. It’s the only time Astrid will without complaint Listen to someone just talk facts and knowledge. Astrid usually finds it so boring but Rapunzel is so adorable when she goes off about this thing she’s so passionate about that Astrid doesn’t even mind.

- After watching Hiccup with Toothless for a while, Astrid gets her own cat named Stormfly and they are a DYNAMIC duo. Stormfly is almost as well trained as Toothless a lot sooner, and they just have this very clear understanding. Stormfly doesn’t hate Merida, so the red head prefers this cat, and Toothless often glares at her for hours for it. Rapunzel and Stormfly take to each other even faster than Rapunzel and Toothless did. Rapunzel smells like Astrid and Stormfly is HERE for it

- Rapunzel and Merida take riding lessons on the weekends. It was something they looked into when they were really young and when they finally convinced their parents to let them it was the single best thing to ever happen to either of them. Riding Maxmimus and Angus are the best parts of their week in most cases (unless something special happens) and the horses are considered as much their pets as the cats or chameleon. They end up buying them after they get out of college and securing a house for all four of them with a big enough back yard to keep the horses in. It’s a good time.

- Hiccup works as a mechanic, fixing mostly cars but also small stuff like bikes and the such in his free time. Toothless came to him missing a leg, so Hiccup comes up with a lot of really clever contraptions and systems to help Toothless move around the house without Hiccup’s help. He still prefers to be lifted into bed, but anywhere else is free game.

- Rapunzel gets a job at first at a diner, where she spends her highschool and college career working her butt off. It wasn’t the best experience but it achieved the goals Rapunzel needed to so she could go to college and become an art teacher instead. It wasn’t the best paying job, but it allowed her to show others why she valued painting so much, and left plenty time in the year to also go traveling if she wished. She’s very good at saving money so she makes it work.

- Astrid works a lot of fast food at first and even takes a stint at the diner with Rapunzel, but her short temper ends up getting her into a lot of situations where she hates her job and ends up leaving after six to eight months. Nowhere was very good for her until she finally got a job at a gym where she ended up learning a lot of really fun skills like self defense and axe throwing. She did it for so many years and got so good that she was hired on as the instructor, and she’s never been happier than in a position where if a man pushes the limits or a Karen tries her patience, all she has to do is sink an axe into a target and turn to them with a raised eyebrow and ask, “What was that again?” It works every time and unless someone has an actual problem they don’t bother her.

- Merida struggles with work. She gets every job under the sun, taking stints at the diner with Rapunzel and the mechanic’s shop with Hiccup and even eventually at the gym and fun enter with Astrid. She gets bored very easily and doesn’t keep a job more than like four or fives months at Max. Ever. She doesn’t think she’s good at anything and might have peaked in high school... until she discovers archery. In an attempt to help her out, Astrid pitches to the fun center to add archery as an activity, and Merida begins to come to it. Unfortunately they can’t really find a teacher who knows what they’re doing and Merida is the only one who shows up so for a while it’s threatening to shut down. But then Merida teaches herself via the internet and insane amounts of practice, and tries out for the job. They give her the position, but tell her that without customers it’s still going to go down.

- the four gather ALL of their friends and begin mass sharing any and all information they can get out there about the fun center and Merida’s growing skills and how helpful she’ll be as the teacher. They just spread the news and encourage people to at least try it out. Through sheer force of Will and hard work, they get enough people with interests peaked who end up coming. Merida’s classes are full of all kinds of people of all kinds of ages, and she loves it.

- none of them get paid a LOT, but Rapunzel and Hiccup are very good at saving money and slowly, Astrid learns as well and between the three of them they can get things figured out even if Merida doesn’t want to waste energy on budgeting and planning everything out and such. When the fun center is out for winter time, and school is out for Summer, they start taking temporary jobs that pay a lot more money. These jobs end up being labor intensive, but they always try and work together and combined, they can find the fun in even the most annoying jobs. Sometimes Hiccup will join them if he’s having a slow time at work, but he never lasts long and the girls tease him a lot about it.

- Yes the hall live together and yes they have “family nights” where they all go out and do something fun once every month, and they eat dinner and breakfast together as much as they can and they’re all very close and mean a lot to each other god I love them.

There are obviously a ton of other characters in this little world I’ve built so if you have any questions feel free to ask!

#Rapunzel #merida dunbroch #astrid hofferson #mericcup #Merida x hiccup #Hiccup x Merida #Rapunstrid #Rapunzel x Astrid #Astrid x Rapunzel #hiccup haddock #httyd #Brave #tangled #Disney #dreamworks #headcanons #how to train your dragon

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

Text

Impulse: Remedy (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Rookie has really terrible coping mechanisms. Drug use, alcohol, swearing, derogatory language, smoking, mentions of murder(?)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry for the delay lads, for some reason this chapter did not want to be written! As always don’t sleep with your boss and don’t do drugs unless their prescription :P

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->

You were exhausted. You hadn’t slept for more than an hour after leaving Javier’s apartment. Not for lack of trying, you thought your previous activities would have worn you out. But no. You were too scared to sleep, not wanting to deal with any nightmares that might occur so you sat on your dusty old couch, drank a vat of coffee and waited until the rest of the city woke up.

You cursed under your breath when you saw Steve’s truck had already gone by the time you got downstairs. It was Connie’s volunteering day at the hospital, he always took her early. You had to go with Javi. You sat on the wall outside the apartment, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Javier to come outside. You had no idea what you were supposed to say to him, how were you supposed to act. You couldn’t really pretend like nothing had happened, sleeping with him like that was not something you could brush under the rug. But you didn’t want to talk to him about it, that would make it real. A real action with real consequences. If anyone found out that would be the end of your time here, and quite possibly the end of your time in the DEA entirely.

Eventually Javier came outside, spotted you on the wall and waved. You got up, chucked the packet of cigarettes in your hand to him before you stubbed out your own and got into the truck.

“So, do you want to talk about last night?” He asked as he lit a new cigarette.

“Not particularly. There isn’t really much to say is there?”

“Not really,” He shrugged, “You’re not in love with me now, right?”

“In your fucking dreams Peña. You weren’t that good,” You laughed at his audacity. You were lying, he was very good at it. But you weren’t in love with him. No, you couldn’t allow yourself even if you were.

“You bitch,” He tried to be serious but your laugh was contagious.

Javi immediately felt relieved, he’d spent all night worrying about you. He really didn’t want the sex to ruin everything you had going as a team. He was a little scared he had scared you off entirely but now you were laughing in his passenger seat as if nothing had ever happened all his worries were laid to rest.

“It happened and that’s it. We don’t need to make it a thing,” You said.

“Agreed,”

“Awesome, let’s go to work then,”

And just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened. Back to piles of paperwork, chasing up lazy cops for their reports and trying desperately to avoid Carrillo. It was going to take time to get over what you had seen him do. You didn’t want to see him, let alone be left alone with him. You’d pushed all responsibility for anything related to him onto Javier, who in return passed you more of his paperwork. It was a fair trade off.

At your desk, hummin away to yourself you could almost convince yourself you were fine. Thanks to the never ending cup of coffee and the sugar doughnuts you found for lunch, your energy levels were back up high. All reminders of the night before were out of sight and you were so consumed in work you didn’t notice as the day came to a close.

“Good night last night?” Steve asked across the desk.

“Huh?” You looked up from your work. Steve motioned to his neck, and you immediately cringed. You had forgotten about the hickey. “Oh, um yeah I guess,” You pulled your jacket back on, despite the heat, as the collar would cover the mark again.

“I thought you and Peña were out in the jungle for that lead. You would have got back super late,” Steve said.

“Everyone’s got their vices, Murphy,” Javier reappeared, jumping to your aid. Steve looked suspiciously between you and Javi.

“Guess you two are becoming more similar by the day,” He chuckled to himself, shaking any ideas from his mind.

“Guess so,” You agreed. You and Javi shared a glance while Steve looked away, both of you well aware of the shit storm that would kick up if Steve found out. He loved you and Javi a lot, but there is no way he would just skip over such an event. You flashed a smile, silently thanking Javi for stepping in for you, before he went back to work again.

To avoid any further questioning, you kept your jacket on for the remainder of the day, rather enduring the heat and cursing Javier for leaving a mark, than having anymore prying questions from Steve. When you finally gave up struggling with your mountain of paperwork, Steve offered you a ride home which you took gladly.

“You and Javi slept together last night, huh?” Steve asked as you rolled out of the embassy. Startled, you immediately went on the defense and laughed.

“Wh-what no!” You spluttered.

“I’m not an idiot, Rookie,” Steve raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t know what to say, so shook your head and shrugged, “So Javi was talking out of his ass earlier?” He said. Your stomach immediately dropped.

“Who’s he been talking to?” All laughter was gone from your voice. If Javi had said something that was it. Why on earth would he say anything?

“So something did happen?” Steve exclaimed, happy that his hunch was right.

“Steve,” You sighed heavily. Relieved for only a moment before more dread piled on.

“I can’t believe you two,” He said shaking his head, “I mean I was kind of expecting it with Javi’s reputation but I thought you had some standards at least,”

“You weren’t there, you don’t get it. It wasn’t anything meaningful just- things happen sometimes,” You sighed, “Did he actually say anything to you?”

“No,” He spoke more sympathetically now, “but I figured something was up, you’ve been acting weird all morning,”

“That’s more to do with the lack of sleep,” You explained, “Yesterday got a bit… dark. I don’t think I slept at all,”

“Carrillo?” Steve asked. You nodded solemnly, “You’ll get used to it,”

You didn’t get used to it. That night haunted you. You couldn’t sleep, every time you shut your eyes the tortured man's face stared back at you. You were practically intolerable come the end of the week. You’d fallen asleep at your desk on multiple occasions, snapped at everyone in the office, and drank enough coffee to fill an Olympic swimming pool. You made a secretary cry by snapping at her over some missing evidence and, had broken the phone on your desk.

As bad as your week had ended up being you still had to go out at the end of it. Instead of curling up with a movie and takeout you had to attend María’s family’s party. You didn’t know why you were invited but you definitely couldn’t back out of it. You’d hoped by now you would have cheered up, that you would be excited to let loose but you were miserable.

The party itself was gorgeous. Set out in the countryside, an hour from Medellin, the hills made for a beautiful backdrop. The Parreño’s summer house was exactly as you had expected, lavish and decadent. Courtyards filled with marble statues and paintings by various famous artists covered the walls. Lights were strung up around the garden between the pool house and a gazebo creating a colourful glow out onto the golden sky.

The air was full of conversation and music. Even though you were surrounded by people who would kill you if they found out who you really were, somehow with a drink in your hand you felt a little more relaxed. María had leant you a dress, a simple little black number, and fixed your makeup in the car ride here while excitedly telling you about her cousin from Argentina she was going to set you up with. You were at the very least, on the way to being happy.

María dragged you around introducing you to so many people you couldn’t remember their names. You gave up trying after ten different people María introduced as her auntie. You smiled and politely complimented their outfit or their hair and moved on. That was until you finally recognised someone. Senator Parreño, a regular face in your life. You prayed he wouldn’t recognise you, you had only met him once, sitting in the back of the ambassador's office while they spoke about something. Like most people, he ignored you that day and hopefully he wouldn’t have a clue now.

“Dad this is my friend, Isabela,” María introduced you. You were taken back for a moment. You knew her family was rich, but a senator for a father made them powerful too. Far more influence and scandal with their new link to Escobar too.

“Nice to meet you,” You smiled and shook his hand. The senator looked puzzled.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh stop it Dad I talk about her all the time, she’s been to our house a lot,”

“No, no it’s from somewhere else,” He squinted at you, looking you up and down. You could feel yourself sweating as you nervously took a big gulp of the cocktail in your hand.

“Isabela works at the American embassy papa, maybe you’ve just seen her there,” María said.

“I am a secretary,” You added quickly, “Usually running around the place, you probably saw me then,” You laughed nervously. Outwardly, you knew you looked normal but inside you were panicking massively.

“Ah I see,” He nodded, not entirely convinced. Luckily before he could interrogate you further or work out who you actually were, María linked arms with you and pulled your attention away.

“Come on, I just spotted Carlos. You will love him,”

Three things you had learnt about Carlos. One, he could and should be in a magazine. He was stunningly handsome in a shirt with far too many buttons undone you were practically drooling over him. Two, he was smart. An engineer. A very upstanding career especially compared to the occupation of most of the people at the party. And three, he really liked cocaine. That part did let him down quite a bit.

Hidden away from the prying eyes of parents and older generations, María, Diego, Carlos and multiple others you did not remember the names of, sat around listening to Carlos rave about the new recipe his friend had told him about. You listened carefully, if your hangover didn’t delete this information in the morning it would be great. Could finally have something to show for your weeks with María.

Carlos pulled out a pack of the new cocaine and poured out a good pile. You watched them all take a line. Part of you was interested in seeing what it was like. It must be good if everyone was so addicted to the stuff. You handled some much of the powder on a daily basis but you’d never even tried it. Seemed almost ridiculous. Maybe it was what you needed to finally relax a little, the alcohol wasn’t hitting the spot. One line wouldn’t kill you.

“Want some?” María offered, wiping her nose of residue. You shook your head.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” You announced, standing up from your seat on the couch. You climbed over María out of the circle of people. You could use their distraction to your advantage now. Now María wasn’t holding on to you you could actually go and investigate. Now with two Narcos connected attendees at least and the revelation that Senator Parreño was María’s father, any information you could find giving a definite link would be huge.

“Don’t be a pussy Isabela!” Diego hollered.

“Oh leave her alone, she’s only going for a moment,” María shoved her boyfriend playfully, “She’ll do it later,”

“Pacing myself,” You agreed with a smile.

“Miss you already!” María called after you before dissolving into fits of giggles.

Inside, the house was quiet. Only a couple of people sat in the living room downstairs and they paid no attention to you as you walked inside.

You walked up a set of elegant marble stairs, deciding upstairs may be your best option so not to get caught. Two long corridors led off the stairs, with doors leading off each side. You were looking for an office, that would be the place any paperwork would be kept. You would need letters, or meeting schedules. Something to prove a link.

You turned left, and hit the jackpot with the first try. Senator Parreño’s home office.You pushed the door open slowly, checking nobody had followed you before going inside. The office was immaculate, just as grand as the rest of the house. A large portrait of Maria’s family hung over the back of the desk, all of their eyes watching you as you searched through the room.

The room was full of things. One wall taken up by a set of shelves full of books and photographs and different trinkets of different sides. A leather couch sat in the window overlooking the gardens.

You came to the desk last. The top was clear of anything bar a photo of his wife, a line of pens and a rolodex. You flicked through it, found nothing of interest.

You stood up to find something you could use to pick the locks when you heard heavy footsteps from outside the door. You stood still for a moment, hoping to hear the footsteps go in the opposite direction down the hall. They got closer.

Before you were caught red handed, you made your escape. Racing to the door, you hoped you would have enough time to slip out without being caught. Quietly as possible, you opened the door.

“Isabela,” María’s father’s voice came from behind you as you shut the door. You turned around quickly, smiling innocently.

“Hi Mr Parreño!” You exclaimed, “Do you know where the bathroom is? I can’t find it?”

“It’s not in there,” He looked at your hand on the door, which you quickly removed and stepped away from.

“You’re house is just huge. I can’t ever seem to remember where I am going here,” You laughed nervously, “I’ll try down the hall,” You turned around and began to walk away, your

“I’d learn to be more careful, Agent,” The senator said after you. Your heart stopped. Slowly, you turned back around to face him again, “I guess you are here for my daughter’s stupid boyfriend?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said slowly, your mouth slow to catch up with your brain which was already working out the multiple ways to get out of the house safely.

“You can quit your act, I won’t say anything,” He laughed dryly.

“No act,” You shook your head, “I didn’t lie, I really don’t know what you are talking about. I am not here investigating Diego. María invited me”

“I remembered where I saw you. You were with those DEA agents,”

“I work with them sometimes, we’re friends,” You shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” He was on to you

“I’m sorry but I really do need the bathroom, if you could direct me there that would be great. I’ve had far too much to drink,”

“Down there, fourth on the right,”

“Thank you,” You walked away quickly, heart thumping against your ribcage at an alarming rate. He knew who you were! He knew exactly who you were!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath.

You quickly spiralled, thinking off all the worst possible things that could happen now. Parreño would tell someone else who you were, maybe he would do something now. You were alone, neither Peña or Murphy knew where you were, out in the middle of nowhere it would be pretty simple to get rid of your body. You didn’t even find any evidence, you reasoned with yourself and he wouldn’t want any suspicion to his name. He probably wouldn’t kill you.

Taking another deep breath as you tried to calm your rattling heart. Your hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink and slowly you relaxed again. You couldn’t go back out looking like you were scared, that would give you up entirely. You looked at your face in the mirror, at least outwardly you didn’t look too bad. Your makeup had shifted a little but you still looked ok. You were fine.

After another round of deep breaths and a pep talk to yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom and put a game face on.

“Isabela! You’re back!” María exclaimed as you returned to the group. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was not convincing as you watched the senator walk past. He looked at your briefly, a knowing glint in his eye as he clocked you. “Can I have some?” You nodded to the coke on the table as an impulsive and reckless idea came into your head. There was no way he could continue to think you were DEA if you did this. Either that or he would just think you were an idiot and not press you again.

“Finally you stop being a complete baby! Come here!” María cheered.

You stood up and stepped over to where María was knelt. You joined her on the floor, watching carefully as she lined the powder up with a card from the table. She presented it to you with a flourish, laughing again.

Surprisingly, you were not scared. The adrenaline of the close call was pacing through your veins. Your mind was so full of fear and anxiety, the idea of finally getting some relief was enticing.

You felt calm, no anxiety in your body holding you back anymore you took the drug from the table. You made a face of discomfort and spluttered a bit when it hit the back of your throat. The people around you laughed, but you didn’t feel embarrassed. It took a moment, but soon you felt the effects. All inhibition and anxiety left your body, you felt lighter and buzzing with energy.

“See, it’s good right?” Maria smiled. You nodded enthusiastically.

You woke up the next morning, tired and hungover. You couldn’t remember much of the night, but turning over to see Carlos naked next to you gave you a good idea of what had happened. He drove you back to Medellin a few hours later, his sports car was a very nice change from the cars you usually drove in. He was a sweet guy and you talked the entire journey home.

“Will I see you again?” He asked as he pulled up a little way from your apartment. You pretended to think about it for a moment, before breaking into a smile and nodding. “Perfect,” He smiled. You got out of the car, the happy smile not leaving your face as you waved and walked away.

You watched his car pull away before turning in the direction of your apartment. You still had an identity to hide afterall, even if he was nice you couldn’t let him see where you actually lived. There was still a threat of Parreño exposing you, if Carlos knew where you lived too it was only a matter of time before everyone would be in danger too.

“So that’s where you were,” Javier called out to you across the street as you approached. He sat on the steps of the apartment building, enjoying the sunshine, smoking and drinking a beer. “Getting laid,”

“Not jealous are you, Javi?” You smirked.

“No! You’re an adult you can do what you want,” He said with a laugh. A jealous twinge in his chest caught him off guard but he couldn’t let you know that, “You look nice by the way, it’s a cute dress,”

“Thanks,” You blushed a little. He shuffled out the way to let you pass him and climb the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

“Sure,” You shut the door behind you leaving Javi alone again. He sighed heavily, blowing out his smoke. He never got jealous, but you had done something to him. He initially put the feeling down the worry. He was concerned for you, going undercover was not something you should be doing at all and from the small amounts you had told him it could be more dangerous than you had first thought. But seeing you step out of that car, seeing you kiss the driver, he knew it was jealousy.

He wanted to have you close all the time, to protect you. You were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, and had shown that on many occasions but the idea of someone else holding you the way he had made him feel sick. That feeling in turn made him angry. He shouldn’t be feeling any type of way towards you, you were a team mate. He was your mentor.

He’d brought it all on himself, he shouldn’t have ever invited you in that night. He would have to suffer through the feeling until it went away, you could never know.

Let me know if you want to get tagged!

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Maribat Secret Santa 2020

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Happy Holidays everyone🎁

In my defense there was a minimum of 2000 words and there was no max so this ended up being 6112 words sorry, I think. There is some Adrien, class and Lila salt, Adrien gets some sugar later.

Without further ado @eve-v0lution I am your Secret Santa, enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette has never been a normal girl. When she was born the goddess Tikki appeared claiming her as her chosen and the next Ladybug. She was born the granddaughter of Ra's Al Ghul, the head of the League of Assassins, the sister organization to the Order of the Miraculous. Her older brother, and twin, Damian was called to be the next Demon.

When they were five, she was taken to the Temple of the Order of Miraculous. she and her brother kept in contact, but it wasn't much more, than 'yes I am still alive, are you?' which was fine with them. As they were often trained together by both the League and the Order.

A week before they turned 10, she was named the Great Guardian and given the Miracle box. On their 10th birthdays he returned to the League to support her brother as he was officially named the heir of the Demon. However, things never went that smoothly. Slade Wilson led an attack on the League killing their grandfather. Damian rushed on to fight the Mercenary. She followed at his side the only thing she said before entering the fray was "Duusu fans" and combat fans dropped into her hands.

Between the two of them, they pushed Deathstroke back. However, he didn't retreat before throwing a sword at Damian. She called upon Wayzz's "Shell-ter" catching the sword in the shield’s dome. She took the hilt of the blade before dropping the dome. The two of them shared a look before running to find their Mother. Together they used Kaakli's portal to go to the Order.

However, they were met with an equally gruesome sight. Many of the monks laid dead, those that weren't were not in much better of a condition.

A single elder survived, speaking of the simultaneous attack on the Order and League. He told them that he will rebuild the order, but that Mari needed to keep the Miracle box safe. In the end Mother told them that she will be leaving them with their Father.

To say it was a surprise that their Father was Batman would be a stretch. Mother and Grandfather only allowed perfection, so not as surprising as one would think. Batman being Bruce Wayne, sure that wouldn't be her first guess but so what. What actually surprised her were her new brothers.

Damian hated them but she loved their antics. Where Damian became the next Robin, Mari stayed in the cave manning the comms as well as their numerous and often injuries.

However, when she did join everyone on the roof tops, Scarlet joins them. A red cropped hoodie that ended a little below her ribs. A long sleeve Kevlar shirt with a high neck. Black gloves and arm guards were holding the sleeves of the hoodie down. Her pants were the same Kevlar as the shirt and was just as formfitting, there were guards on her thighs that wouldn’t impede on her movement as well as knee pads connected to the shin guard. Short combat boots, a red sash tied to her waist hiding the utility belt and yo-yo, and a mechanical mask that conceals the bottom half of her face. And to top it off Tikki turns her eyes violet and her hair to white.

"Scarlet" Nightwing called to her. They were partnered and patrolling the west side of Gotham.

"Yes"

"Let’s race"

"What do I get when I win?"

He held his hand to his chest in mock hurt "Just so you know one week, anything the winner says is law for one week for the loser"

"Make it one favor redeemable whenever and you've got it" she challenged. He was torn but he agreed.

"Count me in" they heard Red Hood.

"Same" Red Robin also entered "Robin?"

"Tt. No"

"Fine. First back to the cave wins" Nightwing answered. "Go!"

She swung through Gotham and dropped into a pitch-black alley 'voyage' Mari whispered too low for the comms to pick up. Dropping through the portal and into the cave. Her transformation dropped and Tikki went to sit on her shoulder. Alfred was there waiting, Duusu perched on his shoulder as well, with a tray of cookies. She gave him a nod in silent thanks, as she still had a comm in her ear.

Ten minutes later Red Hood pulls in and was about to celebrate when both Red Robin and Nightwing crash into him. Creating a mess of limbs over the motor bike.

"Ha I win now you guys owe" Jason was about to rub in his victory from the bottom of the pile when Mari giggled, pulling the attention of her three brothers.

"Sorry Jay but you lost" she, Alfred, and the kwami were clearly in the middle of tea and cookies.

"She is correct Master Jason. Miss Marinette has been here for the past 10 minutes"

"Tt. Honestly don't race against some one who teleports." Damian grumbled as he walked away from the Bat-mobile.

"Don't worry. I'll wait until you forget you owe me to cash in" she smiled wickedly. "Good night."

And that was when they remembered 'Right Mari has the ability to use the powers of several pocket-sized gods' that was a lesson they wouldn't forget soon. Well Tim and Jason didn't forget; Dick would still bet against her though.

Jason found out she is the perfect prank partner. And no one in or out of the manor was safe. How they managed to swap all of Green Arrow's arrows, each being a different gag, was a mystery even Batman couldn't or wouldn't attempt to solve. The fact that the Justice League saw and heard Batman fall to the floor laughing, scared most of them from finding out. Those who didn't learned what happens when you don't leave well enough alone.

School was well boring; between the curriculum of the League and the Order she had already gotten 2 PHDs and 5 masters. School was nothing more than a pleasantry at this point. Father wouldn't let them out of school, something about needing to be normal kids. That only seemed to draw the twins into the spotlight more, because they were the only two blood children of Bruce Wayne. Damian became known quite fast as Gotham's Ice Prince, but Mari became known as Gotham's Sunshine just as fast.

But don’t let the name fool you, within the first year their classmates learned that yes Damian Wayne is scared of something, and that something was actually a someone who just happened to be his twin sister. Damian apparently was feeling petty about something, and for the life of her she can’t remember what, but he decided to write in big red letters ‘NO!!!’ across every page of her sketchbook. She found that out during lunch, and that was when the entire school learned that the little sunshine child was the only thing that can put the fear of God in the Ice Prince.

---

Freshman year Mari finally got her Dad to agree to letting her into the exchange program for the next four years.

So, she decided on Paris.

Why, why did this exchange have to be four years long. I’m not gonna survive this.

Admittedly it started off okay, okay not really but then things went downhill, fast, faster than you could imagine.

It started when she met her host family. They met her at the airport and that was an experience, I guess.

"Mlle Wayne? Correct" a tall slender woman in glasses asked her.

"Yes Madame" she replied with a polite smile.

"Natalie Sancoeur" the woman replied "And this is" she started but was cut off by a boy around her age, he had blonde hair and green eyes. But what stood out to her was his attributes reminded her of an overexcited and hyper puppy.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled at her, so she did what was expected of her in polite society.

"Marinette Wayne" and she extended her hand to shake his. However, instead he pulled her into a hug. Once she realized what was happening, she pushed away from him and took a step back. She looked at him and her thought of him being a puppy was only reinforced with the look on his face. So, she looked at Sancoeur, while the woman looked at Agreste with indifference she looked at Mari as if she was in the wrong.

This is going to be great. Was the only thought as she endured the drive to the Agreste household.

Agreste would not shut up the entire way and seemed to be hurt that she didn't answer him. Agreste was also the one who was to give her the tour of the mansion. It wasn’t so bad it gave her the chance to gauge the defense systems, which was lacking, and the layout was simple compared to the Wayne Manor, the League's compound, and the Order's temple.

Unfortunately for her, Agreste ended the tour with her room and then proceeded to sit on the bed and continue to ramble about whatever was on his mind. She did try to get him to leave but that was a complete waste of time and effort. Kwami it was like he couldn't hear me or more likely didn’t even care about my opinion. So, she put in her headphones, hid them behind her hair, pressed play to of music and went to unpack.

As she was finishing setting up the bathroom she noticed, like every other door in this house, there was no lock.

Ugh I need to speak with Monsieur Agreste.

She went back out and saw him. Agreste was at the desk where she had set her laptop and was trying to open it.

"Excuse me but what are you doing?" she asked pointedly, having taken out her headphones and set them in the case.

"I was trying to see what you had on your laptop" he shrugged "can you tell me the password to get in?"

"No" she deadpanned; he had the gall to look shocked. That was when Mme Sancoeur entered the room, without even knocking.

"Lunch is" was all she said before Agreste cut her off.

"Natalie make her open her computer for me" Agreste whined.

She was about to speak but Marinette beat her to it. "Um No. What I have on my personal computer is none of your concern" his face fell while Mme. Sancoeur pursed her lips. "Furthermore, I am assuming since you are at the desk, the bed is askew, and the drawers are open and my clothes are in shambles you were going through my things" she was now glaring at the blonde invading her space. Now he had the decency of looking ashamed. "Am I to assume lunch will be held in the dinning room?" Mme. Sancoeur only nodded, and she left the room.

Lunch, if you can call it that, was also a disaster. Apparently, Americans eat chicken noodle soup, a hamburger, and a load of fries. Because that was what was set in front of her.

Ugh this is going to be a long four years.

"Mlle. Wayne, I hope everything has been to your liking" M. Agreste, Gabriel, as he introduced himself earlier spoke. “You have hardly eaten.”

"Would you prefer my honesty or would you rather me lie to you" Marinette responded swirling the water in her glass.

"Your honesty" he answered slightly unsure.

At this she scoffed "I am going to assume that you and no one else had bothered to read the file of my information that was sent to you" he as well as Mme. Sancoeur remained quiet "Because if you had you would know I am a vegetarian."

Mme. Sancoeur searched some thing on her tablet and there was a soft "oh" from her.

"Your son is also suffocating, to the point that when I asked him to leave the room so I could settle in peacefully, he remained as if I hadn’t asked him to leave" M. Agreste was going to say something but she continued "He also has no sense of privacy as he went through all of my belongings and was attempting to go through my laptop as well." Again, he was going to say something, but Mari continued. "On the topic of privacy neither the bedroom door nor the bathroom have a lock."

“Paris is completely safe, as the house is protected, it should not matter if there is a lock on the door” he replied in a monotone.

“I’m sorry doesn’t matter, in what universe is it alright for two teenagers of the opposite sex be in a house where one of said teenagers doesn’t respect the other enough to leave them alone” she almost started yelling, but kept her head and voice level.

M. Agreste didn’t respond right away, but he gave a small hum before stating that “I will take your request into consideration.”

“Alright, just know that I will guard myself and will not hesitate to use force if necessary” she knew they wouldn’t take her seriously but hey I am warning them, they only gave a nod that they heard. “Also M. Agreste I tend to have a strict morning regimen is it possible for me to continue it using the home gym while here?”

“Of course,” he waved dismissively.

“What does this regimen include?” Mme. Sancoeur asked politely.

Marinette had a wicked smirk as this was going to be the lightest of her routines, she could give but would still most likely shock them. “Oh it is nothing much just a 5 kilometer run as a warm up, then half an hour of boxing, a half an hour of sword forms and training, half an hour of holographic combat training, followed by half an hour of ballet, and half an hour of meditation.” She was smiling watching their reactions and it was priceless. “I usually start around 4 in the morning.”

All of them were shocked, and who would blame them, here I am in my 5’2” high glory with a sunshine disposition stating I can most likely drop kick them into next week. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I was unable to do it this morning on account of being on an airplane, this will be a good way to see the city” so she smiled leaving them gobsmacked.

Finally, she was able to breathe as she ran the streets of Paris listening to her music softly. Back at the mansion she had figured out she had an audience less than ten minutes into boxing, but she continued. As she was about to start the holographic training, that Tim, Barbara, and she had created, but by now the entire Agreste household was watching her. “If you’re only going to watch me leave or else have the decency to spar” she shot at them.

“I’ll do it” little Agreste spoke up “But if I beat you, you’re giving me your computer password.”

“Fine, but when I win, I get locks on both my bedroom door and the bathroom inside” she challenged.

Agreste senior nodded his head and replied bored “Only if you win.”

“First to be knocked down three times loses” she grinned. She went to grab her two training twin swords and handed one to little Agreste.

“These are real swords” he exclaims clearly off balance by the weight of the weapon.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, neither have an edge” they got into positions and it was easy to see who would be victorious. I got locks and some privacy oh the small victories are truly sweet.

---

Sunday was uneventful, but so long as she was in the mansion for meals unless she had checked in with Mme. Sancoeur, she was free to her own devices.

Monday she would come to regret that it had to end later, but not for a while at least.

Mari rode to school with little Agreste and that was her first mistake. Everyone in the entire school watched her exit the car added to the fact that she's starting in the middle of the semester and that kicks.

She was wearing a charcoal shirt splattered with metallic red paint, a faux caramel brown leather jacket with a hood, black jeans with burgundy all stars. Her hair was down, and a black messenger bag was over her shoulder.

She got out and simply walked in and towards the main office ignoring everyone, she got her schedule and a map of the school. The principal himself walked her to her homeroom and to her horror little Agreste was in the class.

"Mlle. Bustier" he spoke. "Meet your new student."

"Please introduce yourself" she spoke with a sweet smile.

"Bonjour my name is Marinette, and I will be a part of your class for the next four years."

Marinette moved to take the open seat in the back but of course Little Agreste had to speak. "Mari there is an open seat behind me."

It took all of herself control to not facepalm. "I prefer the back"

"I'll spar you for it"

Now she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes or the one playing on her lips "Okay Agreste, but what makes you think you'll win this time?

"Fencing uses lighter swords" he answered mumbling the end.

"Wait why are you challenging the new girl?" a boy in a red hoodie and two-toned hair asks.

"Probably to redeem his honor from our last bout" she was now smiling. Maybe this won't be all bad.

"Then I get the next challenge" the same boy answered confidently.

"Alright" she agreed "Name your sport, um..."

"Sorry Le Chien Kim" he supplied. "Swimming freestyle"

"You're on" a devilish smirk on her lips. Afterwards everyone introduced themselves and she sat down in the back.

They spoke with M D'Argencourt about it during lunch and he told them to wait until after school for the fencing club to set up. So, they did. Honestly, the class isn't so bad, just a little pushy, apparently a student isn't here today but should be back soon. When they all went back after school, that was when Marinette saw her.

"Gami" Marinette ran to the girl in a red fencing outfit and gave her a brief hug.

"Mari-hime what are you doing in Paris?" she asked.

"Exchange program" Mari waved it off.

"Your brother?"

"Not interested" Mari responded.

"So why at the fencing club?"

"Agreste challenged me."

She looked towards the blonde and gave him a pitying glance. "Then you should both change"

"Right" Mari called as she went to the locker rooms. Her uniform was a red bodice with black sleeves and pants, but the gloves, shoes, and socks were a shade of green so dark it appeared black, the stitches on the entire thing were in golden thread. Both her saber and helmet were a combination of black and gold.

They both got into positions when Marinette heard her.

"This is going to be a slaughter" and Gami was right.

Faster than anyone could blink Mari had scored a touch before little Agreste even moved.

"Huh and here I was hoping for a challenge. Agreste" she turned away from him and faced Kagami "Match?" was all she asked, and the girl stood and faced Mari.

Facing Kagami was like fencing Damian. Both are powerhouses and decisive, but Mari's strength was in speed and agility. They met each other strike for strike, she is probably one of the few civilians that may be a match for her and her brother. By the end of practice, she was offered a spot on the team which she accepted.

To little Agreste's dismay Kagami offered to show her around Paris, to which she had agreed.

---

One-month Mari had to settle into her new class. She made fast friends with Le Chien, after their swimming match where she also met a girl named Ondine, Alix Kubdel was next she is competitive with a need for speed, side note never let her meet Jason. Max Kante and Nathaniel Kertzberg were also added to our little group. She met Luka Couffaine while wandering Paris for inspiration, they became fast friends, and she designed the costumes for Kitty section as well as their Demo Album cover. The final and most shocking, apparently, addition to their group was Chloe Bourgeois. Along with Kagami her small group of friends were unshakeable and for the next four years will be thankful for them.

After that one month, a weasel entered the class. Her name was Lila Rossi and everything that came out of her mouth was a lie. Honestly, Mari wouldn't give her a second thought but then the strikes against her grew.

Lila's first mistake was lying about her best friend, Jon, or in reality about Superboy. Oh, she was in a relationship with him. Sorry but Jon is super bi, but leans towards men more, like a walking romantic mess that was a golden moment when he figured it out. The same can be said when it finally dawned on Damian when he figured out for himself. As the amazing sister that she is of course she would tease those two. But the teasing and cooing only escalated when the two started dating. So ya not buying that he took you out, much less as Superboy.

Lila's second mistake was threatening Mari in the bathroom. Please if your going to threaten someone make sure you aren't being recorded. And second don't threaten a Wayne, especially an Al Ghul turned Wayne. So, Marinette recorded every lie, every threat, and every reaction. If she were going down not even the Devil himself would think to help her.

Unfortunately, it had a rather annoying side effect. Little Agreste kept pulling her aside to try and make peace with the liar.

"Please Marinette, can you stop calling out Lila" he repeated for the up-tenth time . They were on their way to dinner about two months after Lila rejoined the class. "Just take the high road"

They were in the hallway outside of the dining room.

"No" Mari stated as calmly as she could. As they both walked in, Mme. Sancoeur and M. Agreste were already inside.

"Why? Her lies aren't hurting anyone"

"Not hurting anyone" she spoke finally turning towards the blonde "What unicorns and rainbows paradise do you live in?"

"Wait, what?"

"Nino almost didn't enter his script for a contest because Lila said she would get someone in Hollywood to help produce it" she answered "It took Max, Nathanial, and I almost an hour for him to submit it on the thought it couldn't hurt"

"Okay that's one"

"Alya's reputation as a reporter is plummeting. She doesn't fact check and believes Lila solely on the idea that 'Lila wouldn't lie to her'. Where Lila uses her blog to spread her lies."

"Yes but no one believes everything they hear or read.”

"Really" Mari arched her brow, Alfred would be proud "then explain how most of Paris believes you and Lila to be an item"

"Mlle. Wayne came to explain" M. Agreste finally spoke.

"Oh, most of Paris believes that your son is in a romantic relationship with Lila Rossi" Mari spoke calmly as she opened her phone and pulled up the post from Alya's blog to show the screen.

"What?" the confusion was clear on little Agreste's face as he also pulled up the blog. The meal for her was quite quick but M. Agreste held back little Agreste.

Mari was sketching in the quiet of her room latter that evening when she heard a soft knock at the door. She opened the door and there stood little Agreste fidgeting.

"I'm sorry I never liked how Lila hung off of me but that was harassment, then I realized that's what I've been doing to you I am so sorry. You probably hate me for how I acted, and I understand if you can't trust me or forgive me and I'm sorry." He spoke so fast and barely breathed as he turned about to leave, but he stopped when Mari spoke.

"Okay. Redo"

"What?" he asked tilting his head.

"Let’s start over" she smiled.

"So, you forgive me!"

"No, I am not forgiving you" he looked saddened "I will hold you accountable, but I am, willing to start a new chapter."

"Okay” he looked a bit relieved.

"Hello. I am Marinette Wayne." she extended her hand to shake his.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled shaking hands. "I'Il get out of your hair then." he sent a small wave that she returned and left.

---

Okay so maybe I exaggerated a bit, but Lila did make these past three and a half years a living pain. Mlle. Bustier fought to keep their class for all four years. The only addition was Kagami in the second year of Mari’s exchange.

But here she was sitting in the back with her friends waiting for the last class of the day to start. Then it happened Principle Damocles and Mlle. Bustier walked in.

"Mlle. Wayne" Damocles called.

"Thank the gods" Mari stated packing up her things and she walked down. "I would say it was a pleasure but that would be a lie" Mari just finished speaking when Alya decided to open her mouth.

"Where are you going class hasn't even started." Alya smiled trying to get Mari in trouble, but neither adult did anything.

"If you really want to know because it seems you've forgotten. I am a foreign exchange student from America, where I will be finishing the final term." Her words must have made some sense to their one community brain cell because they nodded, and she left.

Marinette flew back to Gotham and oh was this going to be great.

Of course, when she landed Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Catwoman were making mischief in the airport. She recorded a video of the Bats stopping them, of course they were monitoring it because of her flight but I digress, and Nightwing lecturing them while Batman looked so done. Along with Jay-Jay or really Red Hood taking Mari's phone and taking a selfie with her, her hair was in braid tucked into a black beanie with a pair of red sunglasses. A halter top that had a golden rod yellow X on it. The top quadrant was red, and the rest was back. A black sweater lined and faded to red at the bottom. Comfortable black and red leggings with black flats. She posted the videos and picture captioned 'Back in Gotham. Home Sweet Home! Hood give me back my phone.' on her public account, before even exiting the terminal.

Her class will be here in about two weeks and stay as long, but right now she need a good stretch.

She found Alfred and loaded up her bags into the car and jumped in, told Alfred, transformed, and portaled out. As soon as the portal closed, she was in the middle of a huge hug from all her brothers. Patrol wasn't too bad, there was a run in with the Riddler and a separate incident with Killer Croc but that is a light day in Gotham.

After patrol was mostly filled with junk food, video games, and movies with her brothers.

Going back to Gotham Academy was like she never left. In a way she didn't, as every break she made sure to spend some time with her friends, dragging Damian with her. She would constantly text or video chat with them. To the extent that they knew about Lila and her class, almost as well as her family.

Two blissful weeks of quiet and patrols filled with teasing and bets was amazing. Yes, she will miss patrolling with Nightrunner. Yes, he is part of the extended Bat clan, but it is different with her brothers.

---

Three days granted that was longer than Marinette gave the class to avoid a villain attack. Of course, it had to happen when they were visiting, WE. Dick had volunteered to lead the tour, mainly to get more evidence, but Mari wasn't there. Since she was on break, she decided to take lunch for her brothers. The cafeteria food was good but still, and Tim would probably be holed up in his office.

She was in a blue collared button up tucked into a black skater skirt. A black and indigo letterman Jacket, black glasses frames and blue heels finished the outfit.

"Nettie?" Dick asked when she entered the cafeteria.

"Brought you lunch." Dick's face lit up.

"You are a god send"

She giggled as he took the food. "Not exactly but close."

"You going to force Timmy to eat"

"Yeah. Is he still in his office?"

"Should be"

"See ya at home Dicky Bird" she turned and found herself facing her class. Most of them registered she was there and glared at her seemingly guarding Lila from her sight, her friends noticed her so she sent a wave to Kagami, Chloe, Kim, Alix, Nathanial, and Max.

Getting Tim to eat usually proves a challenge. Mostly because he has one hand glued to a coffee mug and the other on his work. Yet when you make an entire meal into finger foods that are perfectly bite sized it is a breeze. She was going to leave when both Tim's and her phone shot an alarm. It was from Dick 'WE 2 Face' In a flash Mari transformed and waited for Tim, opened a portal, and fell into the lobby.

The two of them took out the goons and restrained them before turning towards Two Face.

"The word on the street is that you and the bird are dating, and you know the Bat." Two Face spoke out to everyone, "Let's hear what other secrets these lips will spill." A gun was held up, presumably to the teen's mouth, but neither Red Robin nor Scarlet could see.

He was clearly holding a teen hostage, and that was when they saw the two hanging sausages, Lila. For the first time since Mari had known her, she was quiet, or at least silently whimpering.

"So, who is she dating?" Scarlet asked yoyo in hand pointing at Lila.

"Robin" she gasps.

"What!?" Both of them yelled before Red Robin started again. "Crap when did I get a girlfriend. Scarlet please tell me this is just a hallucination! I swear if this is, I won’t drink a single drop of coffee for a month!”

Scarlet however was barely standing doubled over with laughter. "She’s a little young for you don't cha think."

"Not helping" Red Robin was in full out panic pacing back and forth trying to comprehend what was being said.

That was when Lila seemed to find her voice again "I'm dating Robin not you."

"Wait, What?" Both vigilantes snapped out of their laughter and panic respectfully. They shared a look and fell to the ground laughing. Two minutes later Batman and Robin showed up. Scarlet and Red Robin were now on their feet but still laughing. No one not even Two Face moved because as everyone knows, Robin is taken and no one will be getting between those two, much less a girl.

"Robin" Batman nodded and to the two laughing teens, Robin nodding in acknowledgement.

"No need B" Red Robin finally stopped laughing.

"Hey Birdie when did you get a girlfriend?" Scarlet asked fully knowing the answer already.

"Tt. Don't be idiotic Scarlet."

"Then why is she saying she is?" Two Face now had the bat fam's attention.

"Who are you?" Robin asked the girl pinned between Two Face’s arm and gun.

"Apparently the girlfriend you never knew existed before three seconds ago." Red Robin supplied, now fully enjoying the shock on his brother’s face.

"Is that why you two were laughing like idiots?"

"Well yes" Scarlet spoke up then whispered 'Voyage, Venom' and Two Face became frozen in place.

Lila was now glaring at Scarlet as she began to yell "What the hell. Why didn't you do that sooner!"

Scarlet snapped her fingers and pointed at Lila "Oh now I remember you" she semi shouted getting the attention of everyone in the lobby. "You’re the girl from Paris who said she was dating Superboy." Lila now seemed to significantly pale.

"Are you saying this girl has claimed to have dated both Superboy and I" At this point both Scarlet and Red Robin had moved and were physically holding back Robin.

"Scarlet" Batman called.

"On it" 'Voyage' "Hey Supes your boyfriend needs you" Superboy then took Robin in a hug from behind resting his chin on top of Robin's head. Her brother now willingly refraining from moving to stay in his boyfriend's arms, while Red Robin left to talk with Commissioner Gordon.

"Miss you are lucky no one was injured, and we were here to take action, your fantasies are just that. Let's go" Batman had lectured the girl who could have been switched with a statue at this point.

All the vigilantes left, and Mari sure as hell made certain Tim finished his food. In fact, he hadn't even changed out of his Red Robin uniform, so Mari guarded the door. She only left when he finished eating, knowing he could now fully react.

Mari was walking out of the elevator and into the lobby and you could practically see the change that occurred. Most of the class were huddled together, her friends were to the side along with Adrien, and Lila was practically glued to the teacher.

She spotted Alfred with Dick not far from her friends, so she decided to go over and speak with her friends.

Unfortunately, that just caused hell's gates to open as she approached, she heard. "You knew she was a liar didn't you" Alya yelled at her friends and Agreste, but Alya was specifically yelling at Agreste. That made her blood boil, so she stepped in.

"Yes, but you didn't believe me when I told you, you didn't believe them either" Mari was now standing between her friends and the blogger. "Agreste didn't want to rock the boat and how you were all treating me it is no wonder."

"Ya but she is a liar, and you are a bully" Alya retorted.

"Was I a bully. Or was that what you were told by the liar" Alya now went quiet. Of the almost four years she was in Paris there was never any proof she bullied Lila. No bruises, no destroyed items, just she said claims. "Yes, I called her out on her lies but that was all. You all were the ones who acted on her words that I bullied her with no proof and bullied me to ‘teach me a lesson'. I have more than enough evidence however, on most of this class and the liar, for cases of assault, slander, defamation of character, and destruction of property."

By now everyone in the lobby was watching this unfold. The class seemed to pale and attempted to shrink in on themselves. Lila and Mlle. Bustier seemed to try to become one with the floor. Her friends were to the side struggling to not laugh along with Dick and Chloe you traitor put down that phone.

"Miss Wayne" an employee came up to Mari seemingly afraid to get her undivided attention.

"Yes" She smiled, becoming Gotham's sunshine that everyone knew, allowing the employee and the other Gothamites to relax.

"The CEO has locked himself in his office and the Board meeting starts in three minutes" the employee fidgeted with the tablet in his hands. That snapped her into professional mode.

"Dick is the tour done?" she held out her hand to take the tablet, opened it and started going trough the documents.

"Ya"

"Go dig Tim from his office. I'll deal with the board."

"On it"

She quickly looked up to her friends "Sorry guys we should catch up later." She walked away the employee on her heels giving her more information.

A whistle was heard next to the group. "Damn I feel bad for the Board members, Mars is on a warpath and not her usual professional warpath" Dick said to Alfred.

"Reminiscent of Master Bruce even" was Alfred's response.

"She really is a Wayne"

"Master Richard"

"Yes Alfred"

"I believe it is in your best interest to retrieve Master Timothy as Miss Marinette is on a 'Warpath' as you say" Alfred barely finished as Dick began to sprint to the elevator. Alfred only sighed as he followed the eldest Wayne child, leaving very bewildered and mortified Parisians in their wake.

#dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #maribat #mlb x dc #miraculous x dc #batfam #marinette wayne #Adrien salt then sugar #ml marinette #damianette twins #damimari twins

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stutterfly · 5 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 03 | Local Networking | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.9K

Last time on SR02: Drinking games are fun but you probably went a little overboard last night when you let your feelings of animosity towards Jungkook get the better of you. The experience has at least allowed you to work through some of your anger. Then he surprised you by helping get you to bed when you started feeling sick… so he’s not all bad. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to patch things up?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, jealousy, sexual tension, sloppy makeout sessions, Joonie is Y/N’s best boi, girls helping girls, friendship feels

CW: drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, mentions of negative body image

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (3/?- Ongoing)

AN: I was inspired to write this next instead so please enjoy! Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook awakens to Seokjin’s bony fingers poking his side. He attempts to roll over with a grumble, forgetting where he willingly chose to spend the night before a collision with the floor reminds him. Seokjin cackles out a squeaky sound as his friend groans and reaches for the couch cushion to bring him to his feet.

“How did you get in here?” He murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “Ugh… what time is it?”

“Is that any way to greet a guest? Didn’t I say I’d be back to make breakfast for Y/N?” Seokjin is already picking up the hoodie partially hidden beneath the blanket nearby. “Hmm what’s this?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he tries to snatch it back from him, but Seokjin has already turned away and draped it around his back. He quickly feeds his arms through the sleeves and contentedly sighs.

“Oh, little Jungkookie…” he begins in a teasing voice, “don’t tell me you’re stealing her clothes now and wearing them like some creepy pervert.”

“Tch. No. She left it on the couch.” Jungkook flares his nostrils and scoffs. “Take it off. You’re going to stretch it out.”

“It’s oversized. It’s fine,” Seokjin fires back, holding up a floppy sleeve and waving it in his friend’s face.

Jungkook crinkles his nose in disgust, catching the subtle scent of his friend already diluting yours. “God. Stop wearing so much cologne.”

Seokjin forcefully blinks, briefly scrunching his features as he holds back what he really wants to say. “Cologne? I’m not wearing any. You must be smelling my natural irresistible scent. Intoxicating, isn’t it?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna make it stink like you.”

“Hmm? Do you think she’s going to get this back and feel compelled to… ” The older man zips the hoodie and lifts the fabric to his face to take a deep inhale. “Smell!?”

When Jungkook groans at his laughter Seokjin quirks a brow at him. “You were sleeping with this over your face so I thought you might suffocate in such a delicate scent. Really my balancing aroma means I’m your savior. You should be bowing down to me.”

“Whatever. You gonna cook or what?” Jungkook asks, waving a dismissive arm as he crosses the room.

Seokjin recognizes the path his friend takes as the one leading to his bedroom. “What? Are you going back to bed? Don’t expect me to bring a plate to you in there.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighs as he passes the bathroom, hearing the water from the shower beating against the tile floor. He’s never had to pee so badly in his life. “I’m just going to awaken the princess.”

He pauses to press his ear against the door to his room. He can’t hear anything. With a careful, quiet turn of the knob, he cracks the door open just enough to listen for movement. It’s not until he’s sure of the sound of your soft snoring that he opens the door further to peek inside.

Your body is turned so you’re facing the empty side of the bed and at some point you’ve swung your leg over his comforter to trap it between your thighs. You almost look content with your nose buried in his pillow. It’s easy to forget that a scowl isn’t a permanent expression branded on your face when you look so peaceful and sweet.

The carpet muffles his footsteps as he crosses the room, sinking to his knees as he approaches the side of the bed. He places an elbow on the mattress and rests his chin in his palm as he reaches out to touch your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers, a soothing tone coating the word.

His fingers trace a gentle path up your arm but you don’t stir. Still knocked out? He knows he shouldn’t be surprised. You really did have a lot last night. He’s just glad you didn’t throw up, especially not on his favorite set of polyester sheets. They’re far too expensive to be covered in puke. If he had known you’d be sleeping here he would have changed the sheets like he normally does for company. He’s not exactly used to sharing his personal belongings. It’s much easier to keep everything separate. Compartmentalize. But here you are fucking all that up, like you do.

Before he can even register all of the reasons he should not have his hand in your hair, his fingers move of their own accord, gliding through it like they belong there.

“Mmm… That feels good,” you murmur, leaning into the touch.

Your eyes open, the thick fog of sleep slowly lifting with your eyelids. You’re not sure you’re seeing the person before you properly so you rub your eye with your knuckles and groan.

“Please tell me you’re not who I think you are.”

“Who do you think I am?” he whispers teasingly, failing to keep the laughter from his question.

“Jungkook,” you groan in warning, turning your face into the soft pillow to hide. “Go away.”

“Hmm,” he hums, carefully massaging his fingers along your scalp. “I thought you said it felt good.”

Blood rushes to your ears as you fight to not melt straight into the mattress. You definitely said that out loud. That was a thing you said to Jungkook. Out loud. Fuck. It does feel good, too good.

“Yeah, well…” Your strangled, frustrated sigh cloaks the delight in your tone as you force yourself to look back at his face. “That was before I knew it was you.”

His focused expression morphs into a cheesy smile. “Now that you know it’s me, it really goes from being good to being great, huh?”

You attempt to smack his hand from your hair but his fingers get caught in a massive tangle of knots. You immediately yelp a pathetic sound, sitting up and yanking your head back, which only ensnares him further.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!” he warns, volume of his tone rising as he climbs up on the bed to lessen the strain on your scalp. “I think my ring…!”

“Ah….! Ah!”

He can’t help the devilish smile that curls his lips at the sound. The labored breaths you offer so freely begin to lodge themselves into his brain for later recollection. For now he suppresses the laughter bubbling in his throat and places his other hand around your head.

“Hold still, princess,” he whispers.

He leans over you to get a better view of the strands trapped in the fine metalwork looped around his middle finger.

“Fucking hurry up,” you hiss, trying to ignore the heat building in your face.

He sighs a loud, frustrated sound at you. “Gimme a sec.”

It’s not like he’s taking his time. He’s not. So what if you’re laying in his bed? So what if you’re cute when you whimper? So what if the scent of your shampoo is making his stomach do somersaults? He pauses to quietly inhale, hoping it’s enough to satisfy the tingling desire in his chest.

You turn your head to the side and do your best to focus your eyes anywhere but the heavy creases lining his obliques. Luckily the ink on his skin steals the entirety of your attention. Your eyes follow a trail of grey brush strokes along his side that seem to grow purple in hue as they wrap around his shoulder and encircle an image you can’t quite make out from your current position. You turn your head, angling yourself slightly to attempt to see more. A sharp tug quickly pulls you back to reality.

“Ow! Jungkook! Fucking pull it out!” you bark, frustration seeping through your tone.

Every time you think you’ve successfully suppressed your feelings of infatuation, they resurface and leave you feeling like a moron. You know better yet you still fall victim to your mind’s own blind spot. Why does having crushes on people have to make you feel so oblivious?

“I’m trying!” His tone is defensive and pouty. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re yelling at me, you know.”

“Hey!” Seokjin’s call causes you both to jump. “What is it that I’m hearing right now?”

Jungkook laughs, “I’m being a gentleman and pulling it out.”

Seokjin snorts. “That was fast. The least you could do is close the door. Come out for breakfast when you’re done.”

“Seokjin…No! That’s not…!”

There’s a lump in your throat and you realize you can’t form words to continue the rest of your objection to his assumption. You pound a fist against the muscular chest hovering over you. Jungkook coughs as though the air has been knocked from his lungs, quickly following it with a laugh as he pulls his fingers from your hair. The ring remains caught within your locks.

“I want that back,” he says, climbing off the bed and focusing his attention on the dresser nearby.

He digs through until he pulls out a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. You’re working the ring from your hair, carefully pulling it free. A flannel shirt smacks your face and lands in your lap just as you sit up.

“I want that back too.”

“Why would I need your shirt?” you sneer, balling the flannel up and tossing it back at him. “Mine’s perfectly fine.”

He catches it in one hand and throws it back at you quicker than your brain can register the action. You fail to miss the way his eyes rake over your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He shrugs with an air of nonchalance. “Thought you might be cold.”

As he exits the room, he shuts the door. It’s after you hear the click of the mechanism that you see the bra you’ve obviously discarded at some point during the night splayed out on the floor just beyond the foot of the bed. You turn the ring around in your fingers a few times and drop your gaze to two very hard nipples threatening to cut holes in the fabric of your shirt. You drop your forehead into your lap and gather the fabric of the flannel around your face.

“Fucking hate you,” you whine into the flannel.

Moreover, you hate the way your heart beats faster every time he teases you. You hate the way you’ve started thinking about him again. You hate the attention and love it all in the same breath. You hate the way you’ve begun to crave it and you’re afraid he knows it. You sigh and rise, looking around for your phone. You vaguely remember kind of maybe possibly setting up a potential date with Jason. It’s better to focus on that than whatever nonsensical feelings are stirring on your Jungkook radar.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s not until you’re sitting at your desk three days later that you second guess your profile pictures on tinder being the most up-to-date. Do you still look the same as a year ago? Two years? You don’t even feel like the you that you were a month ago. How are you supposed to show your most genuine self when you’re so worried that someone is going to accuse you of being insincere about your appearance?

Pushing down your insecurities and trying to get your mind off of things, you sift through personal emails on your second monitor. Checking for bills due before heading into the lab is a good way to clear your mind of unnecessary noise. Focus on here. Focus on now. But even staring at the screen for the electric company’s login page can’t save you from wandering back down the road of worry.

Jason’s been nice. He was patient with your social anxiety when you said you didn’t want to meet right away without getting a sense for him first. After a few weeks, you forced yourself past the discomfort because you started to like who he presented himself as. But pictures and long texts at the end of a busy day can only tell you so much about him. It’s time. You’ve been hinting at it for a while and now it’s finally going to happen. Who knows? Maybe he’s just as scared as you are. He said he can relate to the anxiety so maybe you can bond over being awkward together. But what if he sees you and doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re nothing like what he thought?

You take a deep breath as the bill payment goes through and you close the tab, moving to the next cluster of emails to clear from your inbox. They’re mostly newsletters you don’t have the motivation to unsubscribe from and the daily recipe emails you swear you’re going to try out when you have more time to learn to properly cook a meal. It just seems like so much effort right now to your stressed out brain. You don’t even bother looking at any of them.

Delete.

Just as you’re about to close the tab, a new promotion notification pops up.

[IRON KINGDOM IS LOOKING FOR HEROES]

Despite every fiber of your being telling you not to, you open the email. You scan the corny greeting and find an offer for a free month of personal training for new clients who sign up for a membership. You’re relieved to see the email is signed by trainer Hwasa and accompanied by cute animated doodles of an arm flexing with 8-bit plus symbols, sparkles, and a big “LVL UP!” sticker.

Their marketing tactics sure seem geared towards gamers. No wonder Jungkook works there. It’s a bit cheesy, but you can’t help but find it endearing. Maybe a gym will give you the confidence you need to stop worrying about your appearance entirely. Fat chance. But it’s still a chance. You star the email and close the tab, heading back into the lab to work on today’s repairs.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Late night?”

You rub your eyes and yawn at the cafe table, thankful when Namjoon slides an iced-coffee towards you. You’re grateful you haven’t put on makeup today because it would have smeared all over your hands. When did 11am become too early for a Saturday?

“Thanks, Joonie.” You smack your lips before trying to hide your smile by sipping through the straw. “I stayed up playing games with Jason.”

“Oh?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Have you guys met in person yet?”

You shake your head. “Next week. We’re supposed to… go to an arcade bar. But we played some co-op games on Steam last night.”

Namjoon offers a blank stare. “I have no idea what that means.”

“We chatted over headsets and played some stuff together. It was fun.” You smile down at the cap on your drink as you take another sip.

“Did he sound like a nerd?” Jennie teases as she sits down beside you with her own cup of piping hot coffee.

“He had a deep voice actually. I was surprised,” you admit, an air of infatuation dressing your tone.

“Deep like Namjoon’s?” Jennie asks, elbowing you playfully. “Or Taehyung’s? What if it’s one of them and they’re just fucking with you? Totally cat-fishing.”

Namjoon squirms in his seat across from you, not wanting to admit his once moronic idea to give you some hope by making a fake profile to build you up and deleting the whole thing as soon as it was made. He laughs into his cup. “Like I could do that.”

You laugh and wave her off. “Namjoon’s is like rocky deep and Taehyung’s is like breathy deep. This is more like…”

“…Yes?” Jennie rolls her hand towards you repeatedly. “Words?”

“Rocky deep?” Namjoon frowns and pouts quietly. “What does that even mean?”

“It means it’s got grit, but it’s pleasant. You’re fine, Joon,” Jennie explains, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“…Buttery?”

“Oh.” Jennie quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as she sips her coffee. “Smooth and silky hmm?”

“Uh….” you purse your lips. “I mean… more like N…Nasal butter.”

Coffee spurts from your companions’ mouths and noses. They both quickly gather napkins to deal with the mess.

“Hot! Hot! Ow! Fuck. Wow. Never say that phrase again in your life, Y/N!” Jennie coughs. “Just say. Deep voiced nerd. That’s all you gotta say!”

Namjoon is cackling like a madman, despite the fact that he’s still wiping at his nose and mouth.

You purse your lips and shyly tap your fingers together. “I thought it was a good description.”

“Which is exactly the reason why I re-did your profile in the first place,” Jennie huffs, wiping down the table.

“Okay so….” Namjoon struggles to contain his laughter. “Are you excited to meet Jay-Jay in person now? Or should I call him Nay-Bae now?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Guys, look. I’m super fucking scared to meet this guy. What if he doesn’t like me?”

They both answer at the same time. “He’ll like you.”

“You guys are biased because you’re my friends. But like. You know not everyone is attracted to everyone else. Everyone likes something different. So like… what if he’s not attracted to me in person?”

“He’s seen pictures of you. He shouldn’t have swiped right if he didn’t find you hot,” Jennie says matter-of-factly. It almost makes you believe her.

“But those are mostly selfies. Good angles, y’know? The body shots are older, like a year or two?” you try to reason.

“Y/N. Your Zelda pic is from Halloween, which was months ago, not years. He’s going to like the way you look and if he doesn’t he’s a moron,” she fires back.

“I just… Don’t feel like the person shown in those pictures. I don’t want him to think I’m lying to him.”

Jennie bites her lip, knowing how insecure you are about your body image, how sensitive you are about it. Years of being bullied tend to have that effect on people.

“Honey, if he thinks you lied in your photos then he’s not the guy for you,” she says, hugging an arm around your shoulder.

Namjoon nods empathically. “Besides, he may not be right for you either. It’s a test to see if you’re compatible.” His eyes widen and he sits up straight. “Oh. Treat it like a test! You did well on exams, right? Well, this is just a kind of exam that you get to grade. Think of yourself like a… professor.” His face splits into a goofy dimpled grin.

Jennie smacks her hand to her forehead. “Namjoon…”

Just treat it like an exam in prerequisite courses. What did you do for those? Truth be told you soaked in lectures and relied on cramming for exams an hour before taking a test. The weird part is that you would walk in nervous, but you’d sit down and take a deep breath and you’d tell yourself something. What was it?

I know it or I don’t.

No amount of stressing ever changed that phrase. By the time you got the exam in front of you, you could admit if you were lacking in knowledge somewhere and that would be your own fault. The essays were easy enough to bullshit if you knew the general premise of the question. Either way you figured out what needed more studying and you fixed the problem for the next test. Convert that to dating?

Your brows are furrowed and you’re staring at the table with your lips slightly parted when you answer. “We like each other or we don’t. Either way it’s okay because I can always try again with someone new.”

Jennie raises her eyebrows, shocked at your response. “Yes.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon says, offering a soft smile.

From behind the counter a few feet away Yoongi glances up at the three of you, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hands are already working to pour a perfect heart shape into the milk of another customer’s latte, but his eyes remain fixed to your table. Namjoon’s wave pulls him back to reality and he focuses on the task at hand before milk can spill over the side of the cup. You turn in sync with Jennie, just in time to see Yoongi delicately setting out the cup on a plate and calling for its recipient. He offers a cocked smile and subtle nod in your direction before focusing on his next order.

“That boy is a workaholic,” you say, picking up your cup and tonguing the straw to your iced coffee before taking a sip.

“Workaholic? I guess you’d know all about that, huh?” Jennie teases, facing you again.

“I take breaks,” you say defensively. “I do.”

Namjoon takes a long slurp of his coffee and focuses on the bland painting nestled in the corner of the cafe.

“When’s the last time you took a lunch break, like, away from your job?” she prods.

“I… don’t have time for that… But I do pay my bills at work, which totally counts as a break.”

“Wild.”

Namjoon chuckles, covering his grin behind his hands. “Oh, that reminds me. Geeksquad, you cancel your free week before it charges you?”

You pout, working your straw in and out of the lid with restless fingers before rolling your eyes with a huff. You tap your phone to wake it up, knowing if you don’t do it now you’ll forget. “Thanks, mom.”

You’re greeted with the email you’ve been staring at all week, tormenting yourself over a response. “Hey, uh, so… remember how I was talking about being worried about the way I look?”

Namjoon sighs like he’s about to die on a battlefield over this. “Geeksquad. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny. You need to stop stressing over this.”

You blink a few times in surprise, feeling the heat rising in your face and hoping it’s an invisible involuntary response. “Oh. I, um…” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I wasn’t asking you to talk me up again.”

He clears his throat loudly, clearly embarrassed for overstepping. “Ah no, I wasn’t. I was just saying… in general. You know? You sell yourself short.” He’s quick to down the liquid in his cup and dart his eyes elsewhere. Is there a hole he can go crawl in?

“Now I’ve got enough from the both of you to trick my brain into producing dopamine for the day. Thank you.” You laugh. “But… I was just thinking… maybe a good way to boost my confidence on a larger scale would be to maybe join a gym?”

“What gym?” Jennie asks, raising her eyebrows with a knowing smile.

“Well…” you focus on canceling the trial at your fingertips while you talk. “Iron Kingdom is running a special where if you sign up for a membership you get a month of personal training for free. I was thinking of signing up with one of the coaches there… Not Jungkook,” you clarify.

She nods. “I mean they’re pretty popular and cheap. Exercise is a natural mood booster. Just know you’ll probably see him from time to time.”

“How often could I possibly see him if I’m going before work?”

“Bold of you to assume you’re gonna be getting up before you absolutely have to,” Namjoon jokes with a laugh. “I’ve seen you pre-coffee at six am on a weekday. I think you’d rather die than be up earlier than that.”

He’s not wrong. You click your tongue and give a slow half-nod, half-shake of your head. “I have an iron will, Joonie. I can condition myself.”

He scoffs. “Riiight.”

“Besides, I’ll be more accountable if both of you are going with me.” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Hey don’t drag me into this. I’m content waking up at six thirty every day. Don’t ask me for more. I could maybe do after work.”

Your sweet smile turns into a sour pout before turning to Jennie. “You said you’d sign up with me before we knew Jungkook worked there.”

“Workouts before I’m awake were not part of that discussion. I will gladly do weekends with you,” she agrees.

“What is this, split-custody?” you whine.

She sighs. “Fine, I will sign up for classes with you too… if you stick with it. We’ll get Namjoon to sign up for one too.”

“What?” Namjoon shakes his head. “Hold up. I never agreed—”

“We’ll make a thing of it. Get a meal after,” she says with an aggressive smile as she kicks his shin under the table. “My treat.”

I’m bribing you to do this for her, Namjoon. That’s what she’s really saying, but you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“We’ll let you pick what we can sign up for together,” you offer as your consoling statement.

He finishes his coffee with a heavy sigh. “Alright. Alright.”

He’ll have to ask Jungkook what the most low-effort class at his gym is and hopefully he won’t poke too much into the reasoning for his sudden interest. Knowing his friend, though… It’s a matter of time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Since Yoongi is thinking of applying for a bartending job at a new place that just opened up, Hoseok insisted on having the weekly Saturday night hangout there. Something you instantly like is that the space is divided into a louder dance scene and a muted lounge atmosphere separated by a wall of glass that mutes just enough sound to dull the loudest out basslines in the next room. The high energy of the club heavily contrasts the laid back scene in the lounge. Ups and downs. Seesaw is a fitting name.

You’re more of a lounge kind of girl, enjoying a noticeable lack of vibrations rattling your skull as you settle down with a new drink. Jennie and the others may favor the other side and you’ll no doubt be dragged back in, but a moment of respite is all you really need right now. You run your fingers through your hair as you tie it up, staring down at your phone. Jason sent you a selfie and he’s every bit as cute as the photos you keep going back to look at. Sweat lines your brow as you attempt to make yourself presentable enough for a photo of your own.

Taking a look around the room self-consciously, you lift the phone and don a plastic grin. You snap a pic that you spend ten seconds internally tearing apart before sending. You tip the glass towards you, the orange juice and tequila going down all too easy and leaving a tangy taste on your tongue. When you wait for the dots on the screen to stop moving, your stomach drops.

JASON: lmao looks like someone photobombed you. You look good though.

Good. You look good. Not cute. Not hot or sexy. Good. Why does that feel so mediocre? Maybe it’s because he’s never actually said “you’re beautiful” or anything to that effect. It’s not like you need to hear it all the time, but every once in a while would do wonders for your confidence.

You’re not even worried about the first part of the text until you scroll back up to scrutinize your features once again and see a familiar dark haired figure in the background with two middle fingers raised. You zoom in on the figure and grit your teeth when you realize he’s sticking his long tongue out with a knowing grin.

“Getting a better look?” Jungkook asks, chin digging into your shoulder as he leans over you and plants a hand on the table. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

“Jungkook,” you warn, fire flaring up in your gut. “Go back to the noisy side where you belong.”

“What, you think I don’t like it quiet sometimes too?” He almost sounds offended as he hops into the chair beside you. His tight-lipped smile and quirked brow fill you with feelings of mistrust. “Keeping quiet can be a challenge. And I always like a challenge.”

“Is that why you’re still bothering me?”

He takes the orange off the rim of your glass and pops it into his mouth with a shrug.

“Stop trying to ruin my chances with Jason and stop stealing my fruit.”

When he smiles at you the orange rind peeks out from the space between his lips and you sigh in frustration.

“I left your cherry.” He points to the fruit half buried in ice as he places the empty rind on the table.

He laughs when you crinkle your nose at the mess he’s made, wiping the table down with a napkin.

“Jason,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s been like a month hasn’t it? Has he even eaten you out?”

Your eyes widen and you flounder to formulate a response.”Ah–I–You–Uh–K-Kook!”

“I mean– taken you out?” he laughs hard at the way you trip over your words. “No, no, wait. The first one. I meant the first one.”

“Does this work for you?” you question after taking a long sip from your drink. “The dirty jokes. The crass humor. The douchebag behavior…”

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “I thought we had something special, Princess. You were in my bed and everything just last week.”

“Okay you’re–That’s–Totally out of context.” You take another sip, reaching the red syrup at the bottom before digging your finger past the ice to reach the fallen cherry. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

His smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Depends on the girl. You’d be surprised by how many say they don’t want an asshole and they roll their eyes at the jokes, the crass humor… Just like you do.” His voice gets low and breathy, shifting in his seat so his shoulder touches yours. “But that douchebag behavior, as you put it…”

Steady fingers reach for the nervous pair tapping the table beside your phone and you tense. His hand is warm and soft as it curls around your cold, clammy ones. Your breath hitches in your throat as you fix your eyes on his thumb kneading soft, comforting circles into the back of your hand. Your eyes rise slowly up to the owner, never moving past his jaw, too afraid to meet his eyes. Why couldn’t these stupid crush feelings just go away when you started talking to Jason?

“It’s a tactic. It’s a game to me. And it works…” he chuckles a subtle sound, watching the way your gaze lingers on his lips. “It’s flirting, Princess. Do you want me to stop?”

“I…” The truth is that you don’t know. Your body aches for him to continue but when it’s over and he’s done playing games with you, you’ll feel like a fool again. Is it really worth it?

Dark eyes bore into yours, a look of longing in them that almost makes you forget they’re attached to the face of a fuckboy. You blink slowly, caught in the trap of featherlight touches you know you could leave in an instant. So why don’t you? It feels so fucking good to be touched, to feel wanted, even for a moment. You find yourself leaning into it, leaning into him. Even as he feigns a shy smile and chuckles, you hate yourself so much for not breaking away from him. A strangled noise escapes you that sounds like a laugh that is alien to your own ears.

��You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers, followed by a whimsical laugh.

Fuck. Why did he have to be the one to say it? Friends don’t count. Jennie and Namjoon don’t count. But Jungkook? He’s not exactly the same classification of friend as either of them. Are you even friends? Last week he made a point of calling you everyone else’s friend, but never called you his. Is it because he wants something more or because he sees you as something not worth calling more? Your lungs are burning. Are you holding your breath? It feels like you’re holding your breath. Your chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

You take a deep inhale and try to calm yourself enough to rip the band-aid off. Maybe he’ll get the hint. Maybe he’ll stop hurting you. You swallow, not knowing if you can play his game but knowing that you have to try.

“I’ll admit… When I met you I felt attracted to you.” In an attempt to seal the emotion from your voice, the tone sounds deeper, almost sultry.

He smiles like he knows he’s won you over and closes his eyes, leaning in further. He opens them promptly when you place your fingers to his lips and push him back.

“But then I met the real you. Pompous. Arrogant. Shallow. Narcissistic. You think you’re God’s gift to women, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You play with people just because you can, like a boy who never grew up. So, let me be clear. I know what I want and it’s not you. I will never want someone like you. Go back to the noisy side and you might find someone who does.”

He doesn’t make a sound as he pulls away, hands sliding off you entirely until they’re hanging over his own thighs. You can feel your lip quivering but if he sees it he doesn’t mention it as he leans back in his seat and pokes his tongue into his cheek. There’s too many emotions coursing through your own brain to properly read his expression. Any guess you might make would be tainted by your hopes and subsequent disappointment. It’s gone as soon as you blink.

“The noisy side is fun too. Thanks for the orange,” he says, flashing you a toothy grin that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle as he casually strolls away.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Twenty minutes have passed and the sting of your words remain. He tilts his head back and downs another shot, setting the empty glass down the bar counter before disappearing into the crowd. For twenty minutes he’s been telling himself he’s unbothered by your comments whilst thinking of nothing else.

I will never want someone like you.

Not the first time he’s heard that one, but it has been a while since he’s elicited such a negative response from someone. How could you say that with such malice? It’s not like you have any reason to sing his praises, but he wonders how low he’s become in your eyes.

You think you know me so well, he thinks as he tightens his jaw, trying to focus on any of the warm bodies darting in and out of his periphery.

The more he thinks about it, the more annoyance becomes a prominent figure in the forefront of his mind. He’s bothered by the fact that he’s bothered, but maybe that’s because he realizes now that you’re not hanging around Namjoon to try and get closer to any one of them with malicious intent. So what do you want? Do you really just want friends? It’s hard to believe his assumptions were the ones that were wrong, but it seems pretty clear now; you’re not using his friends at all. You just stumbled into this family like a graceless clutz with your jokes, your wit, your kindness, your… nerdiness.

It’s infuriating just how likeable you are. How was he supposed to know that you weren’t putting on a front? It’s hard to find genuine people in this fucked up world and he’s done his best to barricade himself within the ones he’s found. Skepticism has been his guardian; it’s protected his friends from those who would use them and it’s kept the rest of the world a safe distance away. But here you are again making him question himself. It’s annoying.

Navigating past writhing, sweaty bodies, Jungkook dons a scowl and looks around for his friends as he tries to push down his feelings of irritation. He’s hoping to find Namjoon on the outskirts of the dancefloor when he spots Seokjin and Taehyung laughing across the way. He feels his body relax a little and he breathes a sigh of relief, knowing a distraction for his mind is imminent. Just as he’s about to be free of the crowd, there’s a body colliding with his. Lean, tattooed fingers reach out to steady the girl around the waist. She’s already apologizing for her partner’s lack of skill as she turns around.

Agitation dissipates in an instant as he comes face to face with your now wide-eyed friend, Jennie. Maybe she’s exactly what he needs right now.

“You don’t have to throw yourself at me like this you know.” He grins, already moving his hips to the music. “Wanna dance?”

She closes her eyes for just a second, letting her hips sway beneath his palms to the beat. It’s then she catches herself and slaps his hands from her hips. “I’m already dancing with someone else, thanks.”

Jungkook’s expression sours as she turns away from him to look for her dance partner, grumbling how Jungkook scared him off. Am I just completely off my game tonight? What is wrong with me?

He sighs and makes his way towards his friends, hoping sharing some drinks with them will lead to a lift in his mood. He spares a glance up to the glass separating the lounge from the club. You’re fixated on your phone, leg bouncing anxiously back and forth and he finds himself wondering what could possibly be so enthralling, so nerve-wracking that you’ve already downed most of your next drink. He rolls his eyes. You’ve consumed enough of his thoughts for the evening. Whatever the cause, he can’t be the solution. You’ve made that much clear.

Jungkook drapes his arms around both of his friends, interrupting whatever conversation they’re in the middle of. “I’m bored!”

Seokjin blinks rapidly in disbelief. “What’s this? You’re alive?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, reaching his palm down to tweak Seokjin’s nipple through his shirt, causing him to shriek and shy away from him.

“What? You disappeared so suddenly I assumed you must have been lured to your death by a pretty face!” he argues, rubbing his palm over the tender spot on his chest and maintaining a fair distance from his friend.

Jungkook scoffs, poking a finger in his ear and blocking out his elder’s words before turning to Taehyung. “Tae, you up for a game? First to five?”

Taehyung sucks his teeth and gives the room a once over. “Dances? Kisses?”

“Numbers.” Jungkook declares. “She has to text you first and you have to show proof.”

He raises his eyebrows and laughs. Deciding he could use the confidence boost, he nods. “Yeah, I think I could do that.” He turns his gaze on Seokjin. “You in?”

Seokjin’s sour expression morphs into a wicked grin. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Should I see if anyone else is game?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and laughs. “You think you can keep up, old man?”

Seokjin moves in to pinch Jungkook’s arm and quickly backs away before he can retaliate. “I’ll show you how a real man woos a woman.”

“Let’s get a round first,” Taehyung suggests, already making his way to the bar.

Jungkook takes out his phone with a grin, sending a group text announcing the start of tonight’s shenanigans. He makes sure to include you.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Namjoon thrusts the water towards you. “Drink.”

You know you should. That last Tequila Sunrise went down way too easy and you’re starting to sweat just sitting here. You attempt to shimmy your hoodie off while maintaining a death grip on your phone. It doesn’t go well.

“Joonie,” you pout.

He pries your phone from your sweaty hands, allowing you to free yourself from your sweaty confines.

“You get this back when you drink some of that,” he argues, pointing to the glass of water. He grabs a french fry off the plate he ordered for you both to share. “Eat some of these, too.”

He talks while sucking in air between his teeth, as if to cool the hot potato scalding his mouth. “Hot! sssch-Hot!” He promptly spits half of the fry back into his hand. “Uhhh, maybe wait a sec though.”

“What? Is it like, hot?” you ask in the most valley girl voice you can muster. You offer him a napkin with a giggle. “You’re a mess, Professor Kim.”

He sheepishly takes it from you, disposing of his half-chewed food before grumbling, “Geeksquad, I swear—”

You simply take a fry from the plate and nibble at it with a smug grin, quickly moving onto the water he provided you. The pair of you sit together in silence for a minute, carefully picking at the plate of fries. Once you’ve sucked down more than half the glass of water you reach your hand out in a grabbing motion.

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” he says, handing over your phone

“But I like him,” you counter, mouth full and licking the salt from your fingers.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I wanna know why this guy keeps putting off meeting up.”

“Maybe he’s nervous, too.” You shrug, scrolling through your missed messages.

It’s a painfully short catch-up session and your heart sinks at the realization that he’s not doing anything to keep the conversation alive. You place the half-eaten fry currently in your hand back on the plate, appetite completely dissolved along with your hopes.

“I want another drink,” you mumble, staring down at the screen.

“What did he say?” Namjoon asks, scooting his seat closer to yours so he can read the conversation and you let him.

“Nothing… Nothing and that’s the problem,” you admit, feeling a sting at your eyes.

Nononono not my makeup. You dab at the inside corners of your eyes and swipe your fingertips along the edge to clear the tears before they fall.

“How am I supposed to go on a date with him if he won’t talk to me? I feel like I always have to initiate and keep it going and compliment him. It’s exhausting. Does he even like me? Why did he swipe on me?”

“I think he likes you… But it does seem like you’re carrying the conversation,” he admits, scrolling through the messages. “He might be more introverted than you… Or he’s keeping his options open.”

There. He said it so you don’t have to. You’re not sure if you hate him or love him for it. You lean back against your seat and look forlornly at the plate of fries. Most people your age don’t have reservations about seeing more than one person at a time, so why is it so hard for you to do? Jason is your only prospect and it’s exhausting even trying to manage that much. You can’t imagine having several other conversations happening simultaneously.

“So what do I do?”

“Put Jason on the backburner.” He presses the power button on your phone, the screen going black before he taps on your glass. “You finish your water, eat some more fries, and come dance with me.”

“I dance like a fool,” you remind him. “You really wanna be embarrassed?”

“We’ll both dance like fools then,” he says while filling his mouth with fries. “Come on. Don’t just watch me eat.”

You oblige him with a grin, matching the amount he’s stuffed his face with and laughing at each other’s puffed cheeks. Both of your phones buzz against the tabletop in unison and you exchange a curious look before checking your messages.

JUNGKOOK: numbers game JUNKGOOK: first to collect five wins JUNGKOOK: person has to text you as proof

You cringe and fire back a text to let everyone know you were included on a group text you definitely wish you weren’t.

YOU: ew JUNGKOOK: oh sorry princess must have included you by accident 🥴🥴🥴 JIN: You can play if you want! I can be your wingman. Together we will take down the maknae JUNGKOOK: lol JUNGKOOK: i guess you can practice flirting 😏 TAEHYUNG: Buying a round first JIMIN: 😱Coming!!\ HOBI: 😈 JUNGKOOK: Joon Yoongi in or out

You quirk an eyebrow at Namjoon. “Do this often?”

He shifts uncomfortably, visibly wilting under your gaze. “I mean, sometimes it’s fun to get drunk and flirt.” He grabs his beer and polishes off the last of it while texting back a response. “Judging me, Geeksquad?”

BUZZ. BUZZ.

NAMJOON: Gimme a minute.

You roll your eyes and grin. “No more than you judge me.”

“So a lot then. Got it.” He laughs.

You hum in contemplation as your fingers tap against the screen.

YOU: im in if you buy me a shot

The texts come through all at once, filling you with regret.

HOBI: COME GET IT JIMIN: Okay!! 🥰 TAEHYUNG: Coming up YOU: I was talking to the party leader YOU: please don’t buy me multiple shots JUNGKOOK: wooooooooow okaaaay JIMIN: Don’t worry I will drink what you can’t 😂

Namjoon is already laughing. “You did that to yourself.”

“I just want to beat him at his own game,” you grumble. “I think I’m just addicted to wiping that stupid smug ass grin off his face.”

“You know what I think?” He points a fry at you accusingly, waving it in your face before it breaks half, the errant piece falling into your lap. “I think you guys should date. You would make a cute couple.”

Your nose crinkles in response and you glare at him.

“Kidding, kidding….” He laughs when you lightly smack his arm. “At least you guys are talking again.”

You grimace, remembering your earlier conversation with Jungkook. The more you think about it, the more a sense of dread grows deep within your chest. You feel terrible about the things you said. You meant them at the time but now you just feel guilty because replaying them in your head sounds cruel. It’s not that you don’t want to fix things— you do.

Last week showed you he’s capable of some semblance of kindness. You thought maybe you could press the reset button on your whole friendship if he ever nutted up and apologized, but he’s only dug himself into a deeper hole since then. Every time you think you’re about to move past it, he does something that causes that anger to flare within you.

You sigh. “He gets under my skin, Joon. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mean to someone before. Ever. I wanna knock his teeth out of his skull.”

He chuckles. “I know… And I know it’s hard to believe but he’s a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

“Must be buried deep down,” you snort, finishing off your water, “if ‘sorry’ is too hard of a word for him to say.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows and nods. “That’s fair. I’m not going to make excuses for him or tell you to forgive him. He can be an ass. He has been an ass to you. All I’m gonna say is that we all have flaws. We all have defence mechanisms that seem logical to our own brains based on our experiences… our feelings… our trauma. We all got issues. Say what you want, but you’re not exactly an open book, Geeksquad.”

When you look like you’re about to object to that statement, he cuts you off. “Just listen.” He lines up the salt and pepper shakers on either side of the vertical menu standing in the middle of the table. “You got two closed off people like this. They complement each other pretty well but there’s this wall between them, right?”

“Tch. Namjoon…” you scoff. It takes everything you have to hold back the smile curling the corners of your mouth. “Are you calling me… salty?”

He rolls his eyes and cringes with a grumble. “Like talking to Jin sometimes, I swear… Look. There’s a door on the side right over here. And here.” He points to both sides of the menu with a fork and a spoon. “But they’re both too busy yelling over this wall, mishearing every other word. They’re forming assumptions about the other without ever having a conversation like civilized people face to face. But if either one walked a little bit, they might see something more than they previously imagined.”

“Hmm,” is all you manage to answer, biting your tongue to prevent you from speaking any further on the subject. “I finished my water, mom. Are you done playing with the table’s accoutrements?”

He snorts, dropping the utensils. After stuffing one last fry in his mouth he wipes his hands on his jeans. “Alright you know what I gave you my hot take. Do what you want.”

“What I want is to show this guy how it’s done,” you huff.

“How? We’ve all seen you dirty talk your cup like you’ve never seen porn in your life,” he jokes.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t have to win. I just have to beat Jungkook. That is my only goal. Besides, I can be charming in my own way Joonie,” you argue, grabbing a handful of french fries. “I have… finesse.”

In fate’s comical stroke of irony you fumble some of the fries on the way to your mouth, like one does when inebriated. You shamelessly fish one from your cleavage, moving your breasts around and inspecting the space between to ensure nothing is trapped in your bra. You look back up at him with a sheepish grin and pop the fry into your mouth.

He drops his forehead into his hands. “Yeah, sure. Finesse.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Something you’ve learned about yourself in the last forty minutes is that you are terrible at this. It sounded like a great idea to enter this competition but you should have known better. You don’t even talk to people you like. Why did you volunteer to talk to absolute strangers? Anxiety swells inside your belly like a balloon, mixing with the alcohol you’ve continued to consume within this time and creating a sloshy mess that makes you contemplate your existence.

For the first ten minutes you struggled with the internal conflict that is approaching a human being. What if they are absolutely out of your league and smite you on the spot with rejection? Mortification seems a fate worse than death far too often. You wish the ground would do you a solid and dissolve into liquid. Then you could just dive in and majestically doggie-paddle away from your problems.

Once you gathered enough courage to engage someone in conversation you were so nervous that you lost your balance, accidentally knocked his drink from his hand, and he promptly excused himself. You haven’t seen him since. The next one didn’t go much better. Stammering and stuttering over your words is about the least sexy thing you could do while trying to be smooth. You excused yourself from that one.

The last one you came down with a case of the hiccups mid-introduction, appearing far more inebriated than you are– at least more than you think you are. That guy raised his eyebrows at you and laughed. He fucking laughed in your face. What little confidence you had at the start of this event has quickly shattered into a thousand shards of self-loathing, each one picking a different part of your body to critique and pin to your brain like a bulletin board of shame.

You lean your elbows on the bar and spread your fingers out against your forehead, looking down at your cup. You wish Jennie was here to get the numbers for you. She would excel at what seems a hopeless task for you. A check-in text revealed she is safe and still having fun with some guy who is apparently “awesome.”

You haven’t seen her all night and you don’t feel like interrupting whatever fun she’s having with Mr. Awesome just to settle your petty squabble with Jungkook. At some point you have to take care of your problems on your own. Maybe you just need to face the fact that he’s going to completely destroy you in this pointless competition.

Have some humility, you tell yourself. It’s okay to suck at things.

It seems far from okay, even though you know it absolutely does not matter. The tears are already building behind your eyes and you’re not quite sure why, but it probably has something to do with the bubble of anxiety slowly creeping up your throat. You swallow, feeling it form a knot and clog the passage at the acknowledgement of its existence.

The guilt over your conversation with Jungkook remains a steady source of the anxiety that gnaws at the corners of your mind, telling you that you should apologize for your harsh words. He hasn’t said anything about it or given any indication that he’s bothered. After all, it was the truth wasn’t it? But the words sit in your mind, heavy in their cruelty. Have you become the person who says hurtful things in the face of adversity, who lets their emotions twist them into someone they never wanted to become? All of the embarrassment and rejection are extra layers that inflate the bubble in your throat.

You push the remainder of your drink away from you as you stand, looking around with a tearful pout. There’s enough light to scan the vicinity for the faces of your friends but you come up empty. It dawns on you for the first time how badly you have to pee so you make your way to the bathroom, relieved that there doesn’t seem to be a line of women holding the door open for one another.

As soon as you’ve passed the threshold of the heavy door the tears freely stream down your face. Your vision blurs with the rising heat in your cheeks. There are a group of women huddled around the sinks and mirrors and they all look up to watch you stumble towards one of the stalls with your hands out for balance. You can’t see their faces through your tears but you know they turn their attention towards you, voices falling into a hushed whisper.

Some of their outfits cast an ill-defined shimmer in the light of the restroom and your gut sinks, knowing they’re probably dressed in beautiful clothes you could never have the confidence to wear yourself. You quickly cast your gaze to the shiny tiles at your feet, the silver glitter embedded in the swirled white marble giving you something to focus on as you pray they’ll be gone by the time you come out.

When you emerge from the stall you stand at the sink, vigorously washing your hands and wiping your eyes with your wet knuckles before bringing your face down low enough to splash and clean.

“Hey…” A soft voice makes you look up from the sink, water dripping from your hair, down your forehead and into your red, puffy eyes. “Are you okay?”

You sniffle and blink a few times as one of them hands you a couple paper towels. Embarrassed, you wipe your face and slowly let yourself focus on the group. There are four of them and, as you suspected, they are all fucking gorgeous. Two of them have long black hair that dances over the skin of their shoulders with each swaying movement. One is wearing a blinding red-sequined dress and reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel. The other dons a flowing white dress that exposes her shoulders, the modest look complemented with knee high boots that could captivate anyone’s attention.

The third girl has her brown hair tied up in a tight ponytail away from her face, playful bangs just barely hiding her eyebrows. She looks so sophisticated in her simplistic black wrap dress. You wish you could look as half as beautiful as she does. The one closest to you has long blonde hair styled in waves that frames her face perfectly. Her makeup is absolutely flawless. She must have just touched it up. Looking at the white crop top and matching white jeans, you’re astonished to find she hasn’t spilled or wiped anything off on herself.

Are they as drunk as you are? You surmise they might be as you look from their outfits to their expressions. The way they frown and attempt to comfort you with misty, compassionate eyes has fresh tears spilling down the contours of your face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you choke out, wiping at your cheeks.

“That’s okay!” the one in red says, stumbling towards the blonde as she attempts to remove the shoe strapped to her foot. The other two catch her before she smacks against her backside. She wears a sheepish grin and takes off the other shoe through hissed teeth. “Ah! Better! Nobody knows anything for sure, if you think about it!”

She waves her strappy heels in her hands as if that proves some deep wisdom she’s trying to demonstrate.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asks, ignoring her friend as she cocks her head to the side.

“I tried to get back at him. He made me think he was one way and then he wasn’t. He’s a jerk!” You hiccup, as though these women already know your history with the person consuming your thoughts. “I want to get over it but he never even— he didn’t even— not once— he-he didn’t say sorry.”

The four girls huddle against each other, nodding as they listen to your rambling as though it’s a sermon worth extracting a lesson from.

“So then tonight I blew up and I was like, hey you’re a dick and I liked you but that’s over because who could love you? And I was like, oh no I was too mean! And I was about to apologize. But then-but then he wanted to play a game with his friends and he sent it to me too. Collecting numbers. And I was like, no! You know what? I’m gonna play and beat you because fuck you, Jungkook. And now I feel so… stupid be-because… I can’t do it! And he knew it. He’s right.”

You start to sob and the girls begin to make a fuss, all talking over each other to try and quell your tears.

“No no no! Honey, you can do it!”

“What is it?”

“Don’t cry!”

“Fuck Jungkook!”

“Look. There’s no man on this earth ruining your makeup over,” the blonde says, grabbing another paper towel and running it under the water.

“Unless it’s a really good blowjob.” The woman in red grins from ear-to-ear, unashamed of her boldness.

“Oh my god, Joy.”

“Sounds like some fuckboy shit.” The woman in the black dress crosses her arms, tapping her fingers on her elbow as she stands up straight. “Okay, how do we beat him?”

Brow furrowed, you look at her as though she’s grown another head. “I can’t. I tried to get numbers and I just made a fool of myself.” You hiccup. “I swear I’m not even that drunk. I’m just horrible at talking to people and I get so nervous that I–” Your lip quivers and you grimace, knowing your face is scrunched up into ugly-cry mode. “I freeze. And that’s probably why… why…”

“Hey, no more of that, babe,” the blond says, dabbing at your smudged eyeshadow and seeing if she can salvage any of the liner you had been wearing. “We’re gonna get you back out there and help you win. You gotta be your most fabulous self when you get to throw it in his face.”

“Getting numbers…” The woman with the heels in her hands leans on the others. “Any ideas?”

“What if we just give you ours?” The woman in the white dress smiles at you and comfort floods your senses. “Is he really gonna check to see if we’re men? Does that even matter?”

You struggle to blink and look at them all through the blonde’s constant dabbing above and around your eyes. “I need to have five numbers text me first. That’s all they said when they were going over the rules.”

You give the one in black your number first and she smiles. “I’m gonna text someone to help if they end up calling any one of us. My brother is here with his friends. He’s a shit, but he’ll help me out if I ask with minimal questions. Oh, I’m Seulgi by the way. You can put me down as any name you like.”

You feel your phone buzz twice. Great. Think of fake guy names. I can’t even think of a story how I might have charmed these ‘guys.’

As if reading your mind, she continues on, “Or you can just use the names of his friends. This is Joy, Irene, and Chungha.”

The two of them wave at you and the blonde smiles. “He sounds like he’s the worst. He’s gonna be so pissed you got numbers faster than him. It’ll be great.”

The contact Seulgi pulls up next makes you stare at the label as the Chungha wipes lines down your nose and chin. It reads: [DAMN BROTHER].

“Th-Thank you…” You sigh in disbelief. “You guys are the nicest people I know. I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t.” Chungha laughs. “I just fixed your makeup. How much time do you have? We wanna make this believable.”

You fish the mobile device out of your back pocket and scan through your group chat. “Looks like most of them are still at two or less.”

“Still got a shot then,” Seulgi comments with a grin. She’s clearly the most sober in the group. “We’ll space it out every ten to fifteen minutes or so. Seem reasonable?”

How do you thank these strangers? You are truly at a loss for words. A small nod and a wide grin is all you can manage.

“Do you wanna dance to kill some time?” Joy asks with a giggle.

“You should sit down and drink some water,” Irene chides. “Or someone will step on your toes.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

After drinking water and conversing with your newfound friends for some amount of time, you’ve almost forgotten about the game. Seulgi’s brother and his friends have joined your booth and you have to admit that although strangely cozy it’s socially draining. It’s not until Chungha nudges you to check your phone that you find more than a few of your competitors have reached their fourth achievement. You quickly text that you have the number you need and that you can keep going if they really want you to. The responses start pouring in, a mixture of confused and surprised. In Jungkook’s case, he calls bullshit and asks everyone to meet back up where they started: the bar.

Although you rise from the booth on steadier legs and hold a clearer mind, suddenly you’re feeling nervous. Your new friends assure you that no matter what they have your back. They all toss their cellphones on the table in a circle.

Chungha starts writing down names on napkins and matching them up with the devices. “If any of them ring we will make sure someone answers.”

After exchanging hugs with all of the girls, you make your slow descent down the stairs. Namjoon and Seokjin are already waiting for you at the bar.

“Oh! Y/N, my friend! You had me fooled!” Seokjin slaps his hand around your back, squeezing you towards the broad expanse of his chest. You take a few seconds to yourself, trying to remember how to breathe.

“How the hell…?” Namjoon asks the open-ended question with a big smile and you respond with a goofy one of your own.

“Uh-ehhehehh. Well…” You scratch your cheek and sheepishly present your phone. “I was told my failure to communicate effectively was charming in its own way.”

Namjoon quirks a brow at you and snorts. “Eloquent. Been drinking water, huh?” He drapes your hoodie around your shoulder. “Here. You forgot this earlier.”

You’re about to thank him when the rest of the group huddles in around you.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask, avoiding the glare Jungkook is throwing your way.

Hoseok is scrolling through his phone. “Hmm… Oh, he texted me. He’s…” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Busy.”

You raise a brow at the tone of his statement but don’t get a chance to ask what he means because Jungkook is already tapping your shoulder.

“I want to see your numbers,” he whines. “I don’t believe this.”

You’re annoyed but it’s not like you can fault the skepticism in his tone. While you didn’t burst into panic mode tonight, you’re pretty sure it’s because you were too drunk to spiral into a pit of despair over your embarrassment. Maybe you can find comfort in that while Jungkook scrutinizes your messages.

You can see his jaw tighten and shift from side to side. As his tongue pokes harder into his cheek with each new message he opens, you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. He forces a smile as Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok all crowd around him to peer down at the screen. He looks up and blinks hard. It’s hard to miss the fluttering of his lashes when he blatantly rolls his eyes.

You tilt your head to one side and smile at him sweetly. “Yes, Jungkook?”

“Looks like you won.” His tone lacks malice but even with his face partially obscured by the long hair falling across his face you can tell he’s annoyed. He sighs and raises his eyebrows, using his pinky to swipe the hair from his face. “You know, actually now that I think about it, I feel like it’s kind of unfair.”

“Here we go,” Jimin mutters, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a sore loser,” he leans in to whisper. “He does this every time someone else wins.”

“I’m just saying I feel like it might be an easier game for girls,” Jungkook says defensively.

“What? Are you kidding me?” You nearly lunge for him in your fury. “Why is it easier? Because guys prey on girls all the time? Especially the ones who are drunk and vulnerable?”

Jungkook looks taken aback that you would jump to such an assumption. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t know how many times I messed up. It was really hard for me,” you snap, poking a finger against his chest. “I bet you didn’t have someone laugh in your face, did you?”

Nonononono don’t you fucking cry, you tell yourself, trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s brow furrows, passing you a look that you swear is almost sympathetic. “No. I didn’t.”

You don’t need his pity. Tearing your gaze away from him, you look over your other companions. They wear uncomfortable grimaces and concerned frowns. The air between your group is heavy, charged with a palpable tension. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling embarrassed by your admission of one of tonight’s failed attempts.

A laugh escapes with your held breath and you shake your head. “It’s fine. Don’t look so sad for me. It went well after. It takes more than that to make me cry, you know.”

Oh no. They know. They know I lied about everything. I have to say something. I have to come clean. I’m guilty.

The cheerful pep in your tone seems to break the tension because Seokjin claps his hand around Jungkook’s shoulder and smiles. “That’s our girl!”

Maybe you’re better at lying than you give yourself credit for.

“She won fair and square. So I think she gets the prize.” Taehyung displays both sets of teeth with his charming, boxy smile.

You cock your head to one side. “Prize?”

“Winner gets dinner!” Hoseok sings as he takes your hands in his and wiggles them back and forth.

“Your choice, bought by the one who started the competition,” Namjoon chimes in.

“Why wasn’t this said at the start? I feel like I didn’t know all the rules. Maybe I don’t want that. I don’t have to eat with you right?” you ask, frowning at Jungkook.

Even when you win, you lose. You take your phone back and shove it into your back pocket.

Jungkook breaks into a cheesy grin that causes creases to form on either side of his nose. “If you want to. I know it’s tempting.”

“I make him get me something really, really good when I win,” Taehyung says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “And then I eat it in front of him.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But then I get a burger of my own, so does it matter?”

“Wait, what would have happened if Jungkook won?” you ask, wondering if you should have just stayed on your path of failure.

“Then the person in last place buys the winner food,” Namjoon responds simply, leaning across the bar to order another drink.

Oh. That’s worse.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You won your first game!” Jimin throws his arms around you and presses you tightly against his chest.

“Blipp! Achievement unlocked!” Taehyung laughs from behind him.

Jimin leans against your ear and whispers, “Oh, you smell good.”

It sends a shiver vibrating down your spine that he no doubt feels. When he pulls back to look at you, an innocent smile plays at his lips. Your mouth hangs agape as you stand there blinking stupidly at him, trying to decide if you want to look at his soft lips or enticing eyes. Who does he think he is, smiling like he hasn’t caused a short circuit in your brain? It’s like he gets off on it.

“Let’s dance to celebrate,” Hoseok suggests, rolling his hips dangerously close to you.

It’s then you remember there are more people in the immediate vicinity besides Jimin and yourself. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you purse your lips and compose yourself as one by one the group starts to split in two directions. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin make their way towards the crowd of dancers. Jungkook stands there looking at you as Seokjin and Namjoon turn their attention to the bartender.

“I think I’m gonna hang here instead,” you call, eyes falling back to the muscular figure before you.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he reluctantly shuffles towards you. You think he might be sulking until the soft tips of his fingers brush across your shoulder. “You did good. Congrats.”

He mumbles something else but you’re sure you didn’t hear him correctly. There’s no way he apologized, even in passing.

You look at Jungkook’s back as he walks away, trying your best to divert your traitorous eyes from wandering down towards his ass. You sigh and rub at your temple with your fingers. It felt okay. Why didn’t it feel great? As you turn your attention towards the bar your eyes pause on a familiar face staring back at you. Long blond hair frames her amused features as she leans back in her seat, sipping on a cosmo.

“Boys are dumb.” Chungha laughs, placing her drink back on the bar just as the bartender places a glass of water next to it. She drops her lime wedge into the water and offers it to you. “Wanna drink, babe?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You’re glad you made the switch to water hours ago. Seesaw is only a few blocks from your apartment so you might actually be able to save money and walk home tonight. Chungha has been talking your ear off about her stressful job but it’s not like you mind letting her dominate the conversation. It’s kind of nice to listen, especially when your energy is dipping. You smile at the bartender when he takes both your empty glasses away and a flash catches your eye from across the bar. There’s a girl posing for selfies with someone.

She must not have liked the first photo because her hand goes up and there’s another flash that distracts you from the way Chungha excuses herself and promises to come right back. You rest your chin on your palm and watch another pair of hands wrap around her waist. They slowly travel across her hips and as they travel lower you can see the tattooed expanse of his meaty biceps. She starts giggling and reaching back to pull her companion forward and your stomach sinks like someone’s tossed a heavy boulder in it. Jungkook’s long hair brushes against her cheek as he nuzzles into her neck.

Your jaw tightens as you watch, eyes refusing to leave the sight of him kissing up her neck. She turns towards him and pulls him to her lips as his hand flies up to cradle her jaw. Why does the sight make you feel so sick? Why can’t you look away? Maybe he can feel you staring or maybe it’s just coincidence, but fate is cruel. His eyelids flutter open and meet yours across the bar even as his companion is shoving her tongue into his mouth. Your mouth goes dry and the stone in your stomach breaks into a thousand shards that poke holes into your chest. Pins and needles threaten to pop your lungs like balloons as anxiety inflates your chest.

His brows are furrowed, concentrated as he keeps his gaze on you and continues kissing her. Those eyes staring back at you are dark and hungry, something you’re not quite used to seeing even through his fuckboy antics. They’re taunting, goading you to say something, to do something. You can’t help but think for a moment that maybe he’s looking at you because he wants it to be you. He wants you to see what you’re missing. It’s like he’s pleading for you to take her place.

Or maybe your delusional brain is creating a fantasy based on lack of romantic interaction.

Chungha scrapes her chair across the floor, causing you to jump and force your eyes away, but she’s smart. She follows where your eyes had been, watching Jungkook switch to pretending to be invested in his partner and occasionally darting his eyes back to you.

“Hey, isn’t that… Douche guy over there?”

“What? Is it? Psshft.” Your attempts at nonchalance are pathetic and you both know it, but you still continue on anyway. “Wow he’s just… making out. Over there. At the bar. Huh. Wow. That’s a lot of… tongue. Don’t you think he should like… move it back somewhere private?”

“He keeps looking at you.” She scoffs. “You know what? I think he’s trying to make you jealous.”

“What? Why? He doesn’t even like me,” you try to reason, not wanting to let hope bubble in your belly.

“Well, you told him off earlier, right? He definitely seems like the kind of guy that wants what he can’t have as soon as he hears he can’t have it. It’s a game to him.” She laughs as she watches you watch him. “It’s working isn’t it?”

“I wish I knew how to beat him at this game,” you say, catching his eyes and noting the satisfied smirk on his lips as he brings them back to his girl.

“I have an idea.” Chungha wears an impish smile as she cradles your jaw with delicate fingers, bringing your gaze back to her. “But only if you’re okay with it. ”

Your heart skips a beat as she carefully watches your expression. You nod, blinking a few times in surprise. “Y-Yes.”

“Is he looking?” she asks, brushing her fingers through your hair.

You’re so focused on her flawless makeup application and how good it feels to have someone’s fingers roaming through your hair that you almost forget to look. “Mmm-uhhh…… Yeah. Yeah, yup. He is.”

She laughs, sliding her hand over the back of your neck and closing the distance between you. Her lips are soft and instinctually you close your eyes, losing yourself in the kiss for a moment. It’s been a long time and it feels just as good to kiss someone as you remember. Your eyes snap open and you look across the bar to find Jungkook’s jaw completely slack. His eyes are wide with the image of the pair of you burned into the backs of his retinas. His arms have fallen limp against his companion and she takes the time to drunkenly nip at his lip and do all the work herself.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity to taunt him back, you deepen the kiss and grab the sides of her head, sliding your fingers through her silky blond locks. You ensure your tongues visibly slide against one another for the show you now know he’s watching. When you pull back you gently suck her bottom lip through your teeth, hoping Jungkook feels the exact same way you felt watching him.

“Did we get him?” she asks with a shy smile and embarrassed giggle.

You savor the look of blatant amazement on Jungkook’s face. You completely forget how embarrassed you would normally be in such a circumstance and you laugh. “Oh yeah. We got him good. Wow, thank you so much. The look on his face is priceless.”

“What the fuck.”

The familiar breathless whisper has you looking past Chungha at Namjoon. He’s holding a handful of nachos loaded with toppings at the halfway point between the plate and his mouth, which is hanging agape. All of the toppings on his chip fall to the bar with a splat.

Seokjin pokes his head from around Namjoon’s hulking form. “Wow, I love this bar. Let’s come back often.”

#magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic

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bellygunnr · 3 years ago

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[Previously...] [Next]

Chapter 2: Profit Margins

PILOT ORVILLE FREEBORN MCS JAMES MACALLAN // TITAN BAY 4 EN ROUTE PLANET TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

The simpod's indicator light winks green. Orville watches it, lulled slightly by the deep hum of the egg-shaped machine while his colleagues talked around him. They were clustered together, talking freely about the two men semi-unconscious in front of them, though he had long since lost the thread of conversation. He never paid much attention to gossip and he wasn't about to start now.

Besides, the rifleman wasn't that interesting. He seemed quiet and never looked anyone in the eye. What Lastimosa saw in the man, Orville didn't know. But Lastimosa had only told them what he was doing-- not why he was doing it.

The kid could be his son, for all he knew. At the end of the day, the lone notion of the kid simply became the Marauder Corps's worst-kept secret.

"Say, Freeborn," Shaver says, nudging his shoulder.

Orville starts, dragging his gaze away from the 'pod to focus on his mate, Crane. He raises an eyebrow.

"You think Anderson and Grenier are even alive by now?" Crane asks.

His tone is light and conversational. Orville hums, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Sure, right? Why would they be dead?" Orville says.

He glances up at the crouched Titan behind them, BT-7274. It's focused intently on Captain Lastimosa, but he hasn't any doubt it's eavesdropping on them. Captain Cole has taken to opening and closing an electric lighter repeatedly, filling the space with anxious clicking.

"Apparently, the SRS outpost we had here went dark," Crane explains.

"So? That's just standard protocol. We've had ops like that more than once, Shaver," Orville says, gaining an edge to his voice.

"But this one just seems weird, y'know? Some backwater IMC planet, a mystery testing facility... Very hush-hush, I've heard."

"El-Tees Shaver and Freeborn," a deep, smooth, but still clearly synthesized voice erupts, "you are in violation of confidentiality codes regarding Oscar-Two-One-Seven."

Crane has the good sense to wince and Orville crosses his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. For a second, he wanted to retort, but...

BT wasn't wrong. With Cole and the rifleman in the hangar, they really shouldn't be so loose-lipped.

"Sorry, BT," Orville says.

There's a pause as they both wait for a response from the Titan. Predictably, he says nothing, but the shutters in his optic suddenly twist, that blue pinpoint of an eye leveling on the 'pod. Orville, Crane, and Cole all turn their gazes to it, curious.

The green light was now blinking. It turns solid amber.

"They must be finished," Cole says.

BT-7274 draws itself to its full height with an abrupt scrape of metal. At the same time, the lights in the hangar stutter, plunging them in a half-realm darkness. Orville reaches for the pager at his belt, tapping the screen on, his chest already tight with alarm.

There's nothing on the pager. The lights flicker again.

"I thought they fixed this shit back at Harmony," Crane says.

Tai jerks to life with a start, the same instant the simpod beeps and pops its latch open. Orville turns to stare at a dazed Jack Cooper.

Alarms start blaring. Five pagers go off at once, shrill with the sound of a non-standard alert. The intercoms crackle, but it's not the ship's AI that speaks. It's the captain.

"All hands, abandon ship."

"Abandon-- but we haven't--?" Crane stammers, shocked. "What?"

"Get off your ass and go, pilot," Tai snaps. "Prepare for Titanfall, everyone. Rifleman--"

Orville hurries after Crane, where his Titan resides, already crouched and open for embarking. He jams his helmet on and flops into her palm.

He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

BT-7274 MCS JAMES MACALLAN // TITAN BAY 4 IN ORBIT PLANET TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

The faux field BT-7274 finds itself in is reminiscent of the prairie surrounding much of the Militia's HQ back at Harmony. He takes it in cautiously, scanning the horizon for threats despite being fully cognizant of the simulated war fog obscuring the distance. A considerable distance away, Tai and the rifleman stand, both excited.

"That's my partner, BT. He's a Vanguard-class. Homegrown Militia technology... "

BT-7274 pushes himself upright.

"The first Titan chassis we designed ourselves. One we didn't have to steal from the IMC. Now, go ahead, Cooper. Call in your first Titan."

He flicks his gaze skyward to witness the sky ripple, a pixelated rift bubbling and expanding, spitting the under-rendered silhouette of a Titan-- a mere copy of himself-- to the ground, high-speed.

Before it can land, that rip in virtual reality explodes. The system error that rocks the simpod flashes in the corner of BT's own HUD. Quietly, he detaches itself from the program.

Titan Bay 4 is in chaos. Pilots and ground crew run between his legs, shouting orders and clambering for their gear. BT-7274 checks his own inventory compulsively.

"They're killing us down there, rifleman. Trying to, anyway," Tai says.

SHIP AI UTAH to ALL UNITS: ABANDON SHIP. REPEAT, ABANDON SHIP.

BT-7274 splays his massive hand out flat for Tai to step onto, cockpit already open, obscuring its vision. It would take them fifteen seconds to return to their ejection stall. In a few ticks, he was pulling sensitive information from the ship's AI and the MacAllan's internal systems reports.

"We're going to see a new planet today, Cooper. Maybe even die on it. I'll see you down there, alright?"

Tai settles down with a grunt that's lost in the din. He shuts the hatch before BT can get to it, but pauses, allowing the neural link to wash through them both.

"Transferring controls to pilot," BT-7274 says. "You know I do not like it when you say that."

Tai chuckles. "But it's the truth, BT."

"Again, I ask-- do you want to die on these planets?"

The conversation keeps its nerves, so to speak, steady, as they move with haste to their stall. The platform dips beneath BT-7274's colossal weight, groaning in protest as it carries them into position.

"The 9th Militia Fleet has encountered a formidable screen of orbital defenses. Apparently, two of our own have already been lost," BT explains, summarizing the data he'd just pulled. "It seems our intel from Anderson was wrong."

The ship shakes violently.

UTAH to BT-7274: GET OUT OF THESE CHANNELS.

BT-7274 to UTAH: I will soon be out of effective range.

Odd, that it's now that Utah chooses to stop BT from looking where he shouldn't. He extracts himself from the MacAllan's diagnostics.

Tai and BT-7274 hunker down and lock their joints for impending Titanfall. The automatic ejection system rotates them outward, even as another hit jostles the mechanism. BT shutters his optic against rapidly strobing lights.

"Please wait," intones a modulated, cheery voice. "Titanfall in 10... 9... 8-- 8--"

The hydraulic frame holding BT-7274 and Tai in place shudders, then appears to fold in on itself, collapsing the floor and pushing its chassis through. Coordinates, speed, and other targeting information flies through BT-Tai's head, coalescing into a single point.

"Well, that wasn't normal," Tai says cheerfully.

"Planetside in 17 seconds," BT states, splashing a timer in a corner of their HUD. "Expect heavy IMC forces."

CLAY NGUYEN CICHLID SQUAD, 34th DIVISION JUNGLE CANYONS TYPHON, IMC-CONTROLLED SPACE

Clay wipes the sweat off his hands and compulsively triple checks his station, useless as it was in the deep, suffocating darkness of the jungle-like canyon. He could see nothing beyond the loose perimeter his team had setup, a consequence of the moonless nights that had been become the new norm, as well as the lightning storms that started around the same time. But who was keeping track, really?

Not him, surely.

"The Militia should just hurry up and get here," his partner grumbles.

"Why? So you can watch the drones do all the work?" Clay shoots at her.

It wasn't like they were going to be doing any fighting-- not against ground forces, anyway. But they'd been here for hours already, since the sun went down, and had nothing to show for it.

That was fine with him. His team? Not so much.

A bright flash illuminates the darkness. Clay looks around for the source before finding the good sense to look up-- where a web-like pattern had flared to life, suspended and writhing miles above their heads.

"The anti-ship cannons," Clay breathes. "Jesus."

"Look alive, Cichlid," crackles their radio. "There's reports of Militia drop pods starting to enter Typhon. Look out for ships, too-- it's quite the fireworks show above our heads."

Clay can sense his partner starting to move, but he's fixated on the sky above. Pinpricks of light were rapidly exploding into white streaks that descended into obscurity.

"Archer's showing potential targets," Suvia announces. "Would you get off your ass already?"

She shoves his shoulder. He pushes her back, momentarily rankled, but hurries to where the second rocket launcher stood. The tiny digital screen offered several potential targets, but no locks.

"I think it's just--" Clay starts to speak, but a colossal, bone-shaking boom drowns him out.

His teeth chatter, then his world turns over, as four distinct booms impact the earth. It's all he can do to keep his grip on the Archer despite the hail of rock and soil raining on his position.

"Suv, you okay?"

"I've got dirt in my mouth!"

When the initial spray clears, Clay sees fire, smoke, and the battered, conical frames of drop pods. He has to remind himself that they're Militia. The IMC war paint was from capture and thievery, but only two had met the ground levelly.

The other two had smashed against the jagged rocks hard enough to ignite something in their internals.

"Some of the pods hit the rocks," Clay says tightly. "Shit, they're firing."

"They don't know we're here," Suvia says. "Here comes our birds."

He watches the Archer's targeting system instead of the evolving battlefield. He wasn't interested in the slaughter. He wasn't interested in facing a Titan, either, but...

The Archer chirps. Clay adjusts his grip on the launcher as it automatically adjusts itself on the tripod, tracking a blue blip in a sea of red and yellow.

"Titan," Clay calls. "Tone's good."

"Tone's good," Suvi repeats.

Clay searches the sky briefly. It's difficult to make head or tails of what he sees, but the enemy Titanfall attracts his gaze by triggering its Distortion Brakes. IMC technology again, a little voice reminds him.

The enemy Titan unfolds itself and sticks the landing gracefully.

Two Archer rockets zip toward it, trailing smoke.

#titanfall #jack cooper #tai lastimosa #bt 7274 #gunny fic checksum #gunny writes #many thanks to cbt for letting me yell at them about this and also proof read

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duckymcdoorknob · 4 years ago

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BNHA Boys Headcannons:

He Hears You Sing for the First Time.

Hi fellas!! Welcome to my BNHA headcannons! I wanted to write something other than my normal fics, so I’ll be posting a master list of these scenarios and updating them mostly bi-weekly! ❤️✨

————————————

Katsuki Bakugo:

Tonight was a calm night during the sports festival. Classes 1-A and 1-B were at a shady bar, engaged in a heavy karaoke contest. It all started with a certain Monoma deciding that 1-B could be superior to 1-A in anything they wanted. Jirou decided to pick a karaoke contest.

Inside, you were mentally cursing yourself. You had never revealed your talent and it didn’t match with your quirk whatsoever. Nonetheless, If it would get that corn-headed bastard to shut up, you were willing to make a personal sacrifice.

After Jirou finished her rendition of I Hate Myself for Lovin’ You, she received almost max on the applause-o-meter. Next it was Tetsutetsu’s turn. You spaced out trying to figure out what you were going to sing. Then it hit. The best song. You didn’t even have to sing, just speak fast. It was perfect.

Tetsutetsu received low applause, making you feel bad in a way, but not too much.

“Next to the stage. Class 1-A, (Y/N) Tamayaki” Monoma announced.

As you passed by him, he flicked your shoulder. You turned your head and scowled at him, “if you’re scared about me beating your 5 on the meter...” you walked on the stage and tapped the mic, “you should be.”

You whispered to the DJ, selecting your most straightforward repertoire song, It’s The End of The World As We Know It

The familiar tinking of the intro played, gaining some hoots and hollers from the crowds. You took to the microphone, “that’s great it starts with an earthquake, birds, snakes and aeroplanes, Lenny Bruce is not afraid”

You masterfully complete the first verse, without a misstep or stutter. Seeing Monoma look like a deer in headlights made it all the more satisfying. When moving into the chorus, you notice a head full of blonde spikes walk through the door.

“Six o’ clock, Tv hour...” you spoke so fluidly it was almost mechanical. The usually stoic boy turned to look at you with a hint of shock in face. You moved through the second verse with a little wobble, mixing a word or two after seeing the explosive blonde.

“The other night I tripped a nice continental drift divide. Mt. St. Edelide...”

After the entirety of the bar shouted “Leonard Bernstein” at you, your turn was almost up. You finished the song with full power in your voice.

The audience erupted into boisterous cheering, leaving you dazed on the stage. Jirou ushered you away with a, “why the hell didn’t you tell us you sang?”

As you passed by Bakugo, you felt a rough hand on your shoulder.

“Oy extra,” a gruff voice sounded, “that was pretty damn cool. Since when do you do that shit?”

Your cockiness from Monoma never left you, “it’s always been there, pretty boy, just never let anyone know it.” You get on your toes and whisper in his ear, “it goes much deeper than this. Let me know when you want to hear more.”

You walk off with Jirou, earning a high five from her. Bakugo stood dumbfounded. Maybe you weren’t an extra after all.

Izuku Midoriya:

Class 1-A’s antics never did end. Kirishima insisted on the whole class hearing his singing voice, a god awful one may I add. So, the class was broken out into full on song.

You had never shown anyone you could sing, it just didn’t fit with your quirk. So you held it off. As soon as the whole ordeal started growing, you found yourself walking to the front of the school.

You plant down on a bench, plugging in your earbuds. You scroll through your Spotify playlist, but ultimately let it shuffle. You un-tensed as the beginning of The Boys of Summer echoed in your ears. You closed your eyes and let lazy lyrics escape your lips.

“Nobody on the road, nobody on the beach...” you quietly echoed the song.

This was the true symbol of peace: no one to bother you while you listened to a bomb ass song. You didn’t notice the added weight on the bench next to you until it was too late.

“Well I can see you, your brown skin shining in the sun...” you quietly let the words escape your lips like clockwork.

You opened your eyes to take in the world around you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw Izuku sitting right next to you.

“I-uh h-h-hi! Sorry to bother you, but you just disappeared. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You chuckled softly. How could you be mad at this stuttering mess?

“Um (Y-Y-Y/N)? C-could you keep singing for me?” Izuku was flushed. He was embarrassed with himself, clearly.

You let out a soft breath of air, your lips curving into a smile. You let the next words of the song release from you. You leaned back onto Izuku’s lap, not thinking anything of it. You felt the boy tense up in your lap, but he ultimately relaxed and began to play with your hair.

Okay you lied, this was the true symbol of peace. You spent the whole afternoon in the same position; singing along to whatever song happened to be next in the shuffle.

Denki Kaminari: (got a little carried away here. I’m a Kami hoe)

Certain days bring certain events that you can never plan for. The spring festival most definitely had the it’s surprises in store.

You were hanging out with your friends, Mina, Bakugo, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. Today has been the best day you’ve ever experienced. So many fun filled events! Bakugo dominated ring toss and won a giant stuffed zebra for himself, plus a giant stuffed Pikachu for Denki. Sero won the ropes course, receiving a small teddy bear. Mina and Kirishima took on a milk bottle toss, in which they both walked away with a stuffie of their own.

“(Y/N)-Chan! You haven’t won a prize yet! What game can we all play to get one?” Mina chimed

“Oh! I’m not sure! I’m not very athletically inclined, if you catch my drift.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

“That’s okay! Neither am I, I just have a good throwing arm” Mina beamed back in response.

You gave her a closed-eyed grin as you continued with the group. You had to admit that you wanted a stuffie of your own, but how were you supposed to win one?

“Ooooh! Look! Look!” Kirishima’s voice suddenly rang.

You look up to see a midsize stage, a huge crowd of your fellow students and Present Mic setting up a microphone. This should be good...

“Attention studennnnntsssssaah!” A booming voice echoed through the field, “come to the stage for a cool talent show! Winner receives a speeeeeecial prizzzeee!~”

You looked at Kiri with furrowed eyebrows. You hadn’t told anyone about your singing voice yet, so you played dumb.

“What could I possibly bring to the stage? My quirk? You’ve all seen it already.” You snapped in defense while fiddling with your hair.

“You can sing! I heard you humming in the common room!” Kirishima bit back in rebuttal.

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing! And even if I could, Ive got tons of other people to go against!”

You looked amongst your friends, who all had the same look in their eyes. You hung your head down and went to Present Mic to sign up.

After a few minutes, your name was called. You mentally cursed yourself as you shuffled onto the stage.

“Next in our competition, (Y/N) Tamayaki!” Present Mic announced.

You looked at Kirishima, who gave you a thumbs up. As the music started, you sucked in a breath. This is it. The tempo grows and accompaniment becomes more intense. You can’t help but smile.

“Movin’ on the floor now baby, you’re a bird of paradise” you began to sing.

Kirishima cheered. Rio was a favorite amongst you and Kiri. You moved through the first verse with great ease.

“Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand.” You were feeling free, not holding back a bit. You sang your heart out through the next verse, masterfully completed the second chorus, and chuckled as the instrumental break sounded.

As the saxophone began to play, you felt a hand on yours and soon you were spun around. Kirishima has come up to the stage to get you to “loosen up”, but he just wanted to perform with you.

“You make me feel alive, alive alive! Luck is on my side or somethin’, I know what you’re thinkin!” You chimed as Kirishima spun you again.

You started the final chorus, while Kirishima beckoned the whole audience to sing. They all obliged except for one...

A dazed Denki stood with a pink tinge on his cheeks. He was awestruck for sure, for you had never revealed this side of you to him.

As the song ended, you stuck your microphone up in the air and smiled wide. The audience roared in applause, and you won a (favorite animal) plushie.

You exited the stage and tried to grab the voluptuous plushie, but it was so heavy you stumbled backwards.

“Woa-! Careful (Y/N)!” Kaminari cried as he caught you by your underarms, “dude! What the hell that was SO cool!!”

You chuckled and helped yourself to your feet, taking one end of the plush and Kami on the other. You both met with your group while Kaminari pestered you with questions.

Ejirou Kirishima:

Finally! Your first semester of U.A High was complete! Today was a great day for you and your classmates to hang out. So, you and your friend group decided to go have lunch somewhere fun.

“Oye Bakugo, I don’t know If I’m comfortable with you driving. Especially considering you road rage something awful.” Denki intervened your thoughts.

“Oh yeah definitely. Do not let blasty over here behind the wheel.” You agreed.

Bakugo glared daggers at the two of you. “I’m a more than adEQUATE DRIVER THANK YOU!”

“You’re welcome! But you’re not driving.” You chimed in response, “Kirishima can”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima beamed as he trudged to the driver’s seat of his Mustang.

Bakugo called shotgun first, so you were stuck in the backseat with Denki and Sero. Middle set between these two tricksters? Can’t be as innocent as it seems.

Nonetheless, Kirishima started up the car and put the top down. “We’re riding in style today my friends.”

You chuckled and relaxed in your seat. It would be about a 45 minute drive to go where you all agreed, but it would be a fun one. Kirishima turned on his spotify, letting it shuffle. Some slow song came on and you felt your eyes get heavy...

All of the sudden, you saw your eyelids again. You opened your eyes to see that you had fallen asleep on Kami’s shoulder, and that he had done the same.

“Long day at the mill I guess?” Kirishima asked, looking at you in the rear-view mirror with a grin.

You chuckled softly, he was right. You definitely needed that nap. At that moment, your favorite song played on Kirishima’s spotify, Fallen Angel by Poison.

“WAIT! You’re a poison fan too?!” You shot up, forgetting about poor Kaminari on your shoulder. The boy woke up upon impact with the seat, and you gave him an amused puff of air.

“Jeez (y/n) I let you sleep on my shoulder and tried not to move you. But all of the sudden the tables turn and you don’t do the same? Not cool.” Denki said with a pout.

“BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG!” You chimed.

“It’s just guitar right now.” Kaminari responded as he yawned.

“ITS SO MUCH BETTER THOUGH!” You cried, “She stepped off the bus and out into the city streets.” You began to sing.

Kirishima looked in the rear-view again. He saw you absolutely jamming as you sang. He smiled fondly and turned his attention back to the road.

“Just a step away from the edge of the fall. Sometimes you can’t choose-“

“It’s like a heads you win, tails you’re gonna lose!” Kirishima started to sing with you.

“WIN BIG, MAMA’S FALLEN ANGEL, LOSE BIG, LIVIN’ OUT HER LIES.” You both erupted in to song, causing an angry Bakugo to roll his eyes and let out a fond scoff.

You and Kirishima sang your hearts out until the song ended. You repeated this pattern with all of Kirishima’s other music. You and this boy shared such similar music taste.

Kaminari and Bakugo tried to be annoyed, but they couldn’t seem to find a reason to not be amused. When a song you all knew came on, everyone started singing, even Bakugo. Upon arrival at the restaurant, everyone was smiling and ready for a nice lunch.

“I never knew you had such a nice voice (y/n)!” Kirishima cooed, “you and Jirou should totally team up and make music together!”

Your face heated up. “Oh- uh! Heh, thanks Kiri! I’m happy to hear that you’re a man of culture as well. Not many people our age know about Poison.” You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment.

Kirishima’s eyebrows raised with excitement, “oh yeah! I love older music! There’s just something about it! I mean the backing music isn’t the main focus of the song, it’s like an accompaniment for the vocals and-“

“Jesus Christ Kirishima. Get a fucking room you two, you sound like Deku with all that rambling” Bakugo’s annoyed voice sounded. You both felt your faces heat up at the comment, walking into the restaurant with a new idea in both of your minds.

Shoto Todoroki: (got carried away here too uwu)

A lonely rainy day. The boys were all at the pool for some “extra training”. It was close to your birthday and the girls were out to find a present for you. You chuckled softly at the thought. You knew straight away what the girls were planning.

“(Y/n) Chan!” Uraraka’s voice echoed through your thoughts, “were going to the shop to get a-“ she cut herself off, “some snacks for you today! We want to get some (favorite chip flavor) chips!” She beamed.

You nodded in response with a goofy grin. They’re the best friends you could ask for. All of the girls took off in an instant, leaving you in the dorms by yourself.

“Waste not want not.” You hummed to yourself as you made your way into the common room. You prepared yourself a mug of (favorite warm drink) (hot choccy gang) and planted down by the large bay window.

The world was silent. Nothing daring to make a sound, but the pitter-patter of the rain outside of the window. You sighed with great satisfaction. How could this day possibly get better? You grabbed your phone and earbuds from the couch and turned on your Spotify.

“Well... it’s just me here. I can practice my audition music if I wanted.” You thought out loud. You clicked in the playlist containing all of the songs that suited your voice the most.

You instantly relaxed and prepared to start as the familiar tweets and twitters of Green Finch and Linnet Bird played through your earbuds.

“Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, how is it you sing?” You began to softly sing, “how can you jubilate sitting in cages, never taking wing?”

You stared out the window, as if you were acting out the scene yourself, “Outside the sky waits beckoning, beckoning, just beyond the bars.” You stood to your feet and let the music run through you. No one was here to judge you, no one could laugh or glare or, in Bakugo’s case, sneer at you. “How can you remain, staring at the rain? Maddened by the stars?”

You were now in the center of the room, sitting on the couch. “How is it you sing? Anything?” The music crescendoed into a melodious break. You continued to the window, singing the song ever so softly, as if you were singing a lullaby. “Green finch and linnet bird, nightingale, blackbird, teach me how to sing.”

The rain fell harder as you plopped down on the window ledge, “if I cannot fly... let me sing.” You stared out the window with a soft smile on your face. Yes... this is the best way to spend your birthday. Completely alone, cup of (drink) in hand, singing your heart out... Nothing could beat it.

You noticed that you were out of (drink) and returned to the kitchen to pour yourself some more. Upon exiting, the cord of your earbuds snagged along the handle of a drawer. Before you had time to react, a small beam of ice froze your drink, keeping you from burning yourself.

“Are you alright, Tamayaki?”

You stood dazed, unable to process everything. Your mouth sat agape as you tried to usher a sentence.

“(Y/N)? Everything’s fine, you didn’t fall, I caught you.”

That’s when you noticed the arm gripped around yours. You turned to meet the concerned eye of your best friend, Shoto Todoroki.

“A-Ah! Gomenasai Todoroki-San!” You stuttered as your face heated up, “gee how embarrassing.”

Todoroki simply grinned with an exhale of air. Your eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed as you swallowed, “that means you’ve been here the whole time... and you heard me-“

“Singing? Yes. Your voice is quite beautiful. It was a great accompaniment to my embroidering.” Todoroki admitted with a soft smile.

“-was gonna say talk to myself but...” you covered your face with your hands, “no one’s ever heard me sing before! I was always so careful!”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You truly have a gift.” Todoroki said softly, “if you don’t mind, I would like to embroider while you sing to me.”

You pondered. “Well you’ve already heard me, so there’s no sense in hiding. But, I do need some more (drink), because you kinda like froze my original cup.” Shoto nodded with a chuckle and turned on his heel to grab his supplies.

You smiled and retreated to the kitchen for a new cup of (drink). You then sat down on the couch, scrolling through your playlist to find something slow and quiet. When you felt the ouch weigh down next to you, you absentmindedly rested your head on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday (Y/N). Such a peaceful afternoon must be a gift.”

“Hanging with you is a gift enough.” You muttered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you.

“I feel the same. Now, I want to hear your beautiful voice again. Hop to it.” Shoto gently commanded.

You obliged and spent your quiet time with him. Hours passed and still you both sat, attention on each of your hobbies. Nothing could ruin this incredible moment. Until Uraraka bursted through the door, causing you to spill an entire mug of scalding (drink) in your lap...

“Happy friggin birthday.” You cringed as Todoroki patted your lap with a cold dish towel.

#bnha #mha #deku #midoriya #my hero academia #Bakugo #Katsuki #mha Bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki #shouto todoroki #denki x you #denki kaminari #Kaminari #Kirishima #ejirou

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baecvlt · 4 years ago

Text

Better Late than Never

in which the reader was set up on a blind date by Sonia Nevermind with Kazuichi Soda

• Kazuichi Soda x Reader

• fluff

• fem reader

• original idea <33

BTW YALL this might sound accidentally self insert-ish but that’s because I gave the character interests (since this is a date fic) but I dont know anything else to put for them. anyway enjoy still.

“So, there’s no one there?”

I glared at her, death staring into her clear, blue eyes. “What the fuck is ‘there’?”. She sighed and lightly hit my arm. “I’m asking you if you have a crush, silly!,” she spat, yet her tone remained friendly. I shook my head. “I don’t find any of these people attractive, Sonia”.

“So you wouldn’t go out witj a classmate?”

“No, Sonia”

She stays silent, suddenly darting her eyes at Hajime. “How about him,” she asked,“Hagime seems like a nice guy”. I shrugged. “Not my cup of tea, really”. She then points at Teruteru,“And him?”. I looked at Teruteru, who was already gawking me. “God, no, Sonia,” I gagged,“Too perverted for my liking”. She then began listing names. Here is what I had to say for all of them.

Hajime: Boring

Nekomaru: LOUD

Fuyuhiko: Mean and short

Nagito: Psycho!

Eventually, she gave up. I didnt feel any way of them, who’s to know how I feel about anyone else at this school? “Fine,” she said, but her eyes lit up,“Oo! How about-”.

“Oof!”

He had bumped into me, knowing me to the floor. Kazuichi Soda: the Ultimate Mechanic. “Yeah, him!,” Sonia said. I looked at Kazuichi, disgust on my face. “Not in a million years”. “Huh?” (Kazuichi was madly confused). Sonia grumbled,“What’s wrong with him?”.

“What isn’t there wrong with him? He also doesn’t bathe!”

“Ouch, I bathe,” he said. “Why were you in such a rush anyway?,” I asked. He shrugged, but eventually sighed and revealed his reason. “I got excited,” he said softly. Sonia and I were confused.

“I just got updated on my— something. I’m going to the office to see what they have to tell me about this thing I’m in the middle of”

I was confused, but I had to know now. “Anyway, I’m sorry,” he said, walking right past us. I stood there, but Sonia got my attention. “Come on, we’re gonna be late to Economics”. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to class. When we got there, everybody was huddled up. There was something they were being discreet about. “Hello, friends,” Sonia said,“What are we talking about?”. “Kazuichi,” Ibuki said without the slightest hesitation.

Okay, maybe not that discreet.

“What’s wrong with him?,” I asked,“Besides all that, I mean”. “Cut him some slack,” Hajime said, now I knew the situation was a little more sensitive than I thought. Sonia and I both got our chair to listen. Hajime sighed,“This morning, I woke up and went to get Kazuichi for class. He wasn’t in his room. Later that day, I went go check on him and he was in his room, but when I opened the door, his eyes were just read and tired. I asked him is all was well, he only nodded and smiled. It took a while, but he still told me he was okay, now adding in the detail that the board had gotten back to him on his request to be transferred elsewhere”. My mouth dropped slightly. “Transferred where?,” I asked, Hajime only shrugged.

“This is all Sonia’s fault!”

We looked at Hioyoko, Sonia quick in defending herself. “He wouldn’t transfer schools because of me, it’s probably all your fault,” she was defensive,“Maybe if you weren’t so mean to him all the time—”. Suddenly, arguing broke out. I heard many things. Hajime said he hasn’t shown interest in her lately, Sonia seeming slightly offended. Gundham was blamed, Ibuki wasn’t being blamed (she was never cold with him). Suddenly, Mikan spoke out. “Wait!”. She yelled, so we were quiet. Surprised by her tone, it made us all shut up. “What if it’s all our faults?,” she suggested,“Y-You didn’t have to be cold to him. Who else besides Ibuki or Hajime spoke to him without immediately judging character?”. It made me think, but suddenly Fuyuhiko spoke. “Fuck that!,” he said,“The dude probably wasn’t enough to be here so they dropped him. He was also probably too embarrassed to say that. And the eyes? Please! They were red because he might be some type of pothead; high out of his mind!”. “That’s a really shitty thing to say,” Hiyoko said,“Even *I* know that’s harsh”.

“I don’t give a fuck; Its true”

Hajime shook his head,“I’m gonna agree with Mikan”. “Wait isn’t it like extremely hard to transfer from this school?”. “No, not quite,” Chiaki said,“When given valid reason, the board can transfer a student elsewhere”. “If in fact the mistreatment of Kazuichi was the reason he sought transfer,” Peko added,“He probably went with ‘mental health concerns’. Since we’re all of age, he wouldn’t need to run it by a parent or guardian, making it much easier for him to transfer”. There was silence. “So what now?,” I ask. Hajime had a quick answer,“We treat him better”. “Is it not too late?”. Peko shook her head.

“If Kazuichi really went to simply be spoken about the appeal, students are given three days to make their final decision. Afterwards, there is no going back since students are allowed an appeal once”

We all still sat there. Were some of us actually cold towards him? I mean, everyone else in the academy didn’t even acknowledge him (neither did some of us, but we were around more, right?). “Alright, studebts, to your seats now!”. The professor being there had us scurrying away from Hajime’s desk. Throughout the whole class, I couldn’t focus. I kept thinking of Kazuichi, but why? Why did I care about him leaving so much?

The bell rang, Sonia waited for me. Econimics was our last class every Thrusday. The minute I was within her reach, she continued the conversation from earlier today. “So, I was thinking: you can’t talk to boys for shit,” she said. “And?”.

“What if I set you up on a blind. date.— huh? How about that?”

I sneered. Blind dates—they were such a tacky idea to me, what the fuck, but this was Sonia. She always new what was best for me when it came to, well, everything. Plus, it might be fun, or funny?

“Oh, what the hell. I’ll give it a try”

Sonia smiled so hard, her eyes shut. She squealed. “I cant wait,” she said,“I promise, this’ll be good for you. Just you wait!”. She kissed me on the cheek, leaving me behind. “Wait— we aren’t going home together?,” I asked. She shook her head. “I have some things to take care of! See you tomorrow, love”. She hurries her way. That girl. I’ll never understand her…

“Hey, how’s it going? … Nice … Well, now that you ask, I was wondering if you were open to a blind date? … Splendid! Friday, agree to meet with this girl, here’s her number … Let’s make things more interesting … Don’t tell her your name … Yes, you do know her”

I got home, setting my book bag down and practically collapsing onto my mattress. What a day. Before I got in thought about all that I was told today, as if on cue, my phone rang. It was a message, one from a number I had never seen before.

???: Hi :)

I was friendly, I didn’t have to be.

Me: Hello :)

As if a second cue went off, Sonia texts me.

Sonia: Has your blind date messaged you? btw make up a name! dont reveal anything !

Me: OH okok

I return back to the unknown sender.

Me: sonia put you up to this ?

???: yes, ma’am (or sir, or i have no clue. sonia said you were a girl. sorry)

Me: hey dont worry, sonia said she was setting me up with a guy, so i assumed too. i am a girl and being called ma’am doesn’t bother me.

???: well you assumed correctly, but thank you for letting me know, ma’am i get unsure.

???: anyway, what’s ur name?

I thought of a good, normal name, but nothing occurred to me. I looked all around my room for an object. Suddenly, my eyes landed on the family camera I had left in my room whenI used it for a project.

Me: my name is cam, hbu

???: Zero

Me: Is that really your name?

Zero: no but it makes sense to me

Me: wdym?

Zero: itd just me i guess

Me: ur gonna make me sad booo

Zero: oops, sorry !

Me: lol Its fine. but seriously, I know there is someone who cares about you. if anything Is wrong. you can talk to me, even if our date friday goes to shit :)

Zero: Yeahyesh thanks for that, Cam. its just my friends, i dont feel seen by them and it just feels like my parents have followed me.

Me: Well, they probably really love you. if it helps, I care about you :))

Zero: you’re very kind

Me: aw noooo. anyway, how was your day?

Zero: it coulda been better. yours?

Me: yeaaaa same here

Zero: what’s wrong?

Me: found something out ab a friend of mine.

Zero: is everything okay?

Me: Yea it all should be if I can fix things with him

Zero: you must really care ab him

Me: yea i really do

“Zero” decided it’d be best to change the subject since he figured it was slightly depressive (which it was). From the time I got home (4am) to 12am, we talked. I was excited because for once in my life, I was speaking to someone who liked the things I did. The same movies, the same bands. He listened to a lot of new wave and indie rock. Eventually, I got sleepy, so we called it a night. He called me cute and let me go to bed.

I actually looked forward to our date Friday. I didn’t care who he was, for he was perfect.

Morning came around and I just wanted to talk to him. In fact that’s all I did. We texted in homeroom, Theater, Calculus, etc. It was Friday today, meaning we’d have to meet today after school, thus revealing ourselves. Sonia and I were in calculus and she noticed I wouldn’t put my phone down. “God, someone’s obsessed,” she teased. “He means everything to me,” I said, breaking no eye contact with my screen. Sonia went to Kazuichi, who I have class with for Calculus, Government and Chem (which we both failed last year). I couldn’t care to break my focus on my screen, but I did head him mutter “she’s perfect”. So Kazuichi found someone else? That’s fine, but will she care enough to stop him from transferring? Could be be transferring for her?!

As the day grew the situation began getting fucking dire.

I was headed to my final class, chemistry. I had my phone in hand, texting away and very distracted. Suddenly, just like yesterday: “Oof!”. I was on the floor and above me? Kazuichi Soda. “I’m sorry, oh my god,” he said as he helped me up. I shook my head. “Nono, this time it’s my fault,” I said, dusting myself off,“I wasn’t paying attention”.

“I was also very distracted, heh”

I smiled, picking his phone up from the ground. His screen turned on, exposing that he had been listening to music. “Cocteau Twins”. I handed him his phone. “You like them,” I asked. He nodded,“Do you?”.

“Yeah, I do”

“Cool... where are you headed?”

“Chem”

“Why so early? There’s a whole hour and a half till we have to be there, plus the 5 minute tardy bell”

“I like being early. Where were you going?”

“My room,” he said,“I can’t find my chemistry journal, so I figured I should look for it before class”. “In your room?”. He nodded. For some sick and weird reason, I felt bad leaving him to do that on his own. “I can help you,” I blurted, almost instantly. His face lit up. “Really?!”. His overly joyed expression brought a smile out in me as well. “Yeah,” I answered softly. He grabbed my hand and ran with me up to his room, having me keep up with him. We got to his room as my heels skid slightly behind him. When opened the door and turned on the light, my jaw dropped.

His room was a complete and utter mess.

“Kazu- how is anything gonna get found in here?,” I asked, trying to keep my tone as calm as possible. “Its manageable,” he answered, entering and starting to look through all his junk,“I haven’t had the energy to clean my room anyway. It hasn’t really bothered me”. I shook my head as I walked in. “No, this isn’t right,” I said, an idea coming to mind,“Why don’t you lay there and rest up a little? I’ll clean your room”. His eyes lit up. “Really?”. I nodded, a warm smile creeping up on my lips. “Well, okay,” he answered,“Thank you, sweetheart”. I couldn’t even react to the pet name. His hat rested over his eyes as he quite literally fell asleep before my very eyes.

With that, I got to work.

Cleaning out his room, taught me a few things. He also happens to like the same films as I do, but he likes more action films. I also learned he has a much bigger wardrobe than I thought. Lastly, he isn’t as mess as I thought. He had everything one would need to clean, even owned a vacuum. It took me about 1 hour and 5 minutes to clean out. I hadn’t realized it was that long, time went by me like a breeze. I approached him and sat by him. In a pattern, I shook him carefully then played with his hot pink hair, which was softer than expected.

God, there’s something wrong with me.

He woke up and I removed the hat from over his eyes. He lay as he looked around, seeing his room uncluttered. “Wow, it’s like a brand new room,” he said happily. “Yep”. He sat up and smiled back at me. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“It’s nothing, really”

His voice was still groggy, I could tell he was a little dazed after his nap. He lay back and laughed to himself as we sat on his bed. “What?”. He shook his head as the lazy smile on his face grew slightly wider. “You’re really pretty”. I blushed a little, and laughed nervously. “Thanks”. He sat back up again, we both had no idea what to do now, but look at each other. It was a comfortable silence. I could forever into his oddly colored eyes.

I wanted him to kiss me, now.

I’ve truly lost my mind. I had no idea if it was just tension or anything but that. Would I like it or would I despise it. I decided to maybe test these waters, but before I could, he beat me to it. Out of nowhere, he grabbed my chin, pulling me to his lips. Kissing me skillfully, he lay back and I followed so I wouldn’t be away from him, leaving me straddling his lap. What a day to forget to wear shorts under my skirt. With how he kiss me and I kissed him, it was no secret we wanted this for a while now. The fact that I wanted this made my stomach knot. We pulled away, slightly winded. “That was so fucking hot”. I proceeded to tell him this never happened. He agreed it didn’t. Then he added:

“I’ve never done that before”

“Neither have I-”

Then, it hit me. Kazuichi was my first kiss.

“This must be a very shitty realization,” he said, laughing a little. “Shut up, let’s get to class”. He nodded, getting up from bed, seeing that his journal was on his now clean and visible desk. He picked it up and now we were ready to go. We were still early, despite distance and how crowded the halls were. We sat at our own table, usually we both sat alone since none of our friends had this class. We all knew each other, but we wouldn’t exactly call certain people friends. Anyway, during class, I was extremely bothered. I felt sick and I couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss.

At all.

I really didn’t want him to leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving. I had to stop it, but why did I want to anyway. Is this pity? It didn’t feel like it; I can tell when I pity someone and this didn’t feel like pity. Could it be that he’s always been there?

I’ve never fallen in love before, nor caught feelings. Something about him felt so familiar. What has Kazuichi done for me?

I began to think and it all came to me. The times I had no one else to talk to so he’d be there, whenever someone has bailed on me I’d go to him. I’ve taken him for granted, yet he’s smiled through it all. To think I’d hurt him made me feel worse. “God, I hate this class,” he whispered to me. I broke away from my thought. “Oh, me too,” I answered,“How are you doing, though?”.

“In this class?”

I nodded. “Terrible”.

I mouthed an “oh”. After a second, I offered a solution. “Well, you can always ask me for help,” I said. “Seriously?,” his eyes lit up like when we were in his room. God his crooked, toothy smile had me smiling, it was intoxicating. “Yeah, come to me anytime,” I said, getting quiet. This was quite awful. On top of that, I remembered I had a date after today. I didn’t even want whoever the fuck I had to meet with. As planned by Sonia, we were to meet at the bridge in between dorms on the third floor at 7pm (mind you, I don’t have a room in this school so there really is no reason for me to stay so late). Now that I think about it, it really sounds like more of a meetup than a date. Maybe it wasn’t so important for me to meet this mystery man. I can just text him I was no longer interested.

And that’s what I chose to do.

After class, I bumped into Sonia. She smiled widely when she saw me. “Oh my god, Are you excited for tonight?!”. Here I am, bursting her bubble.

“No”

Her smile went down slowly. “Why not?,” she asked. “I’m not going”.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU AREN’T GOING?”

That was probably the loudest she’s ever spoken. “I mean, I don’t want to”. “But this was important, what the fuck,” she seemed too upset about it. “I don’t want him,” I said,“I’m into someone else”. “WHO?”. I swallowed before the name came out of my mouth,“Kazuichi...”.She slapped her hand over her mouth. “I know its emba-”.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M GONNA SAY, oh my god. You have to go still, don’t leave your blind date hanging, please. I’m begging you, please!”

I scoffed.

I nodded. “Fine, but I really cannot pretend to have a good time,” I said to her. Nodding frantically, she said she knows. Ultimately, it was my choice and she knew that. Sonia walked home with me, then said she would walk back with me when it came time to meet my blind date. She wanted be there for when he was revealed. I got a message from this man when I got home.

Zero: Hey, are you sure you want to meet?

I raised a brow and showed Sonia. She covered her mouth, but quickly told me to say yes. So that’s exactly what I did.

Me: Yeah

Zero: ok

“He isn’t into it,” I said, showing Sonia the messages. “He will be”. Damn, she was so dead set on this and for what? “Come on,” she said,“We should get going”. I nodded, getting up from the floor we sat on in my room. Locking up, we swiftly headed to the bridge.

It was dark by the time we got there.

“Hello?”

No answer. “Maybe wait a little,” Sonia suggested,“He gets shy”. I turned to her. “Do you know him?,” I asked. “Of course I do”. She must’ve misunderstood what I asked. “No, but do you know him know him,” I cleared up,“like is he close to any of us”. She nodded, now I was really curious. A couple minutes passed and he still wasn’t there. “See,” I said,“Fucking no-show!”. My hands clenched into a fist. Sonia was getting closer to me, looking as if she had some consoling words to say, but she stopped. Smiling, she backed away. Then, I heard footsteps behind me. She stepped away from me, nodding towards me, but that was just a signal for me to turn around. I heard a gasp,“You?”.

The familiarity of the voice—it all made sense now.

“You!,” I cried. My eyes watered as a smiling Kazuichi stood in front of me. I hugged him and I could tell he wasn’t expecting me. “God, I thought you’d hate me,” he sighed, relieved. I shook my head. “I’ll leave you to it,” Sonia said,“I have to go anyway; my ride’s here”. We waved her off, getting back to each other. “Wanna head into my room?”.

We headed into his room, snuck in, I’m not supposed to be here. He threw himself onto his bed as his hands made a gesture for me to get on. I straddled him like before and kissed him. “Someone’s excited,” he teased. I scoffed. “I’m not the only one”. His face turned red as he looked away. “Hey, Kazuichi? Can we talk”. He nodded, waiting for me to introduce the topic.

“Hajime and, well, everyone else including Sonia and myself were talking and—”

“Yeah?”

“That you’re leaving?”

“Oh... yeah. I am”

I frowned, getting off him, now sitting next to him. He looked upset now that he remembered. “It isn’t too late now, is it?”. He shook his read putting his hat on his bedside drawer (me thinks this is the first time I’ve seen him without a hat). “Tomorrow, I go confirm my decision,” he said,“I feel... miserable in Hope Peak. I don’t belong here”.

“Kazu...”

“You don’t know what it feels like not having anything in common with anyone. Everyone being so fucking distant”

“I do know how the first one feels, but... we have each other to relate to”

“I just hate how this school makes me feel and I want it to go away”

He shivered as his eyes began to water. It hurt so much to see him cry. I never have. “Baby, look at me,” I said to him,“We all love you, okay? I love you. I’m sorry for being so cold towards you this whole time. You were always there”. He stuck his head into my chest and just let everything go. I played with his hair as he got rid of emotion. I lay his head down and straddled him again. Quickly, I kissed all over his tear-stained face, the taste of salt persistent on my lips. The kisses got him riled up and giggly once again, making him tackle me. I fell back on the bed as he did the same to me. He smooched me on the lips before giving me his final word.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

I nodded, not pressuring him. I wanted him to be so sure about staying. I also wanted him to know that if he did stay, I would be there, always. “You need a ride home?”, he asked. I could have gone home, but I didn’t necessarily want to. “Aw, don’t you want me to stay?,” I pouted. The way I said it was so playful it almost felt like teasing. He blushed frantically answering,“Yeah, I do”. I then realized I didn’t have clothes to sleep in.

And no, sleeping in underwear could never be an option. (Not yet, at least)

“Damnit, I don’t have clothes”. That’s when he opened his drawer and threw some sweatpants at me. “You have a shirt under that one, correct?,” he asked. I nodded, unbuttoning my school shirt. it was a silk black undershirt, could be used as an undergarment or sleepwear. “Hey, I’m just gonna go out to the communal to wash up, okay?”.

“That’s fine, baby”

He smiled, heading off with his toothbrush and towel. Once the door shut, I with a I slid off my socks. I then stood up and took off my skirt. The clothing fit me kind of snug, but I didn’t mind. I lay back and waited for him patiently.

His shower was quick, well, in my opinion it was. His hair gave off a brisk scent, as he lay next to me. His eyes looked weak as he hug his face into my chest. It wasn’t in a weird way or anything, so I simply assumed he was tired. “Are you sleepy, yet?”. He nodded, his face in deeper. “I’m really sleepy,” he said softly. I ran my fingers through his hair like before and let him sleep. Watching how at ease he was in my embrace soothed me to rest. According to Hajime, he was usually a light sleeper. The slightest touch or noise would wake him up. He would shift around or mumble in his sleep. This time, it was different.

It was peaceful.

The next morning, I woke up and put on yesterday’s clothes. When I got to putting on my shoes, I felt him move behind me. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” I said sweetly. “Good morning, angel,” he said, his voice straining as he stretched with a grunt,“Time?”.

“9:30”

He got up and threw on a pair of clothes that I have never seen him in. “You want a ride home?,” he asked,“I meet with the board today at 10. If I take you home now, I can make it back in good time”. I nodded, going hand in hand with him after he had put his shoes on.

I never knew Kazuichi drove. I recall him say he had terrible motion sickness, yet here he was driving me home in a borrowed car that had been worked on in the school’s auto shop class. I had nothing else to talk about and the silence was killing me. “So you can drive?”.

“I can drive”

“What about your motion sickness?”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that’s always been there, always will be,” he began to explain,“but I’ve learned to ignore it”. He put his arm around me, smiling. I smiled, yet I was terrified. What if I wasn’t enough to make him stay? As he drove, I noticed he had nothing in mind. With Kazuichi, you can always tell when there’s something on his mind. Always. He’ll squint, mouth some words to himself...that’s how you know. It began to overwhelm me and I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry knowing there was possibly nothing I can say or do for him to stay. He may know I love him, but what if the timing was off?

Oh, well.

We arrived at my home, him walking me up to my doorstep. He kissed me, his smile dropping afterward. Fuck, he must’ve noticed... “Hey, is everything okay?”. I nodded. “Okay,” he said, uncertainty in his tone,“Well, text me if anything!”. I nodded, a faint smile on my face. I headed inside and lay in bed.

My memory of that Saturday and the Sunday that followed are fogged. I don’t remember leaving my room, let alone my house. Monday came around. I was nervous. I walked down the halls, Sonia standing and an expression of worry spread across her face. “Sonia,” I said,“What’s wrong?”. She gulped and I knew nothing positive would come out of this.

“Hajime hasn’t seen Kazuichi all day”

My eyes widened and I wanted to pass out. “No, that can’t be!”. I didn’t want to feel this. It was all guilt. Why, though? Everything seemed fine when we had last seen each other, it made no sense. “You haven’t talked to him?,” she asked. I shook my head. Sonia sighed. “Okay,” she began,“We have government today. Your only class with him. All we have to do is wait and then we’ll know for sure”. I nodded, trying not to let emotions get to me.

Now in government, I waited, We all did. None of us had heard a word from him. Soon enough, an hour passed: no Kazuichi. Tearful, my eyes shut as I placed my head on my table. Hajime walked up to me. “If its in any consolation at all,” he began,“Kazuichi really did like you. He loved you. I’m sure he knew you loved him”.

“Why the fuck do you make it sound like he’s dead?”

“I see how it would sound like so. I’m just gonna leave my words at that”

My eyes were burning and a headache began growing. Suddenly, there was pounding on thr door, pounding that startled the class. The teacher sighed. The knock was that of a late student, which obviously would’ve annoyed her considering this is a 65 minute class and it had been an hour or so. A student volunteered for the door and there stepped in a distressed Kazuichi.

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TEXT ME?!?”

I sniffled and my heart was beating out of my chest when I heard his voice and saw his face. “Kazuichi?!”. I ran up to him and hugged him, he was tense. “I was so worried,” he said. “That makes two of us”. I kissed him, he asked if I was okay and I nodded so frantically. “I didn’t text because I was sad!”. He hugged me tighter, kissing my forehead. I looked into his eyes, falling in love. Then I had realized one thing. “Wait”. He looked at me,“What’s up?”.

“WHY ARE YOU SO LATE?!”

“I HAD AN EYE EXAM!”

He walked to the teacher and handed her a doctor’s note. “You know I can’t mark you present right?,” she said. “You can’t mark me absent either, miss”. Yeah, he wasn’t the best student here. He walked back up to me and kissed me. “There’s like 2 minutes left,” he said,“Can we leave?”.

“Just go”

Being a nuisance paid off as we were all let out early. He grabbed my book bag and ran with me, pulling me by the hand. He took me to the back of the school, yeah, the very back behind the gym. I sat in his lap as he kissed me once more harder, now that no one was watching. I then faced him. “I thought you were leaving,” I whined. He ran his hands through my hair. “I was going to,” he said,“but I couldn’t do that to you, or to myself”. We sat in silence till I said,“Who would’ve thought?”.

“Yeah, in a million years, huh? What year we in?”

“Shut up”

I kissed him and felt him smile against my lips. “Don’t change, Kazuichi”. “Don’t plan on it,” he said,“I love you”. “I love you too”.

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