#that person purchased their sit just as I did and my comfort doesn’t matter any more than theirs

[lonelystarbuckslover13]

Not to mention that it shouldn’t even be the fat person’s responsibility to buy a second seat just in case someone doesn’t want to sit next to them. Planes are public spaces that anyone can purchase a seat in - when you buy a ticket you do so knowing that you don’t know who you’ll be sat next to. That’s a part of the deal. So if you care so much about the body type of the person beside you then you can purchase a second seat for yourself to ensure you’re own comfort, that’s you’re responsibility. To expect a complete stranger to have the foresight that you won’t want to sit next to them and then expect them to pay extra to accomodate your preference is fucking ridiculous. Why is the onus always on fat people to set themselves back more financially in the name of other people’s comfort? Where is the concern for fat people’s comfort on planes? Ugh fatphobia is just disgusting

“So, I’m on a plane today. Here’s what I did to prepare to fly as a very fat person. (Thread.)” by @yrfatfriend

(…)    

I brought my own seatbelt extender, so I wouldn’t have to ask for one. Sometimes my extender is confiscated by the TSA. Today it wasn’t. I’m not worried about the embarrassment of asking for a seatbelt extender. I know I’m fat. I’m worried that hearing me ask for an extender will prompt others to complain. If they do, it starts a domino effect of trouble for me. Passengers complaining to flight attendants will get me reseated, charged double, or escorted off the plane, stranded without a way home.

Over the last 2 yrs, about 50% of passengers in my row complained about me. So, my body is regularly discussed in my presence w/o my input. Some policies don’t include a refund or rebooking policy. So I could be out $1300 & still stranded. That’s a risk I take every time I fly. And no matter what happens, if someone complains, my body will be discussed loudly, with open revulsion, without regard for who hears it. As a very fat person on a plane, I am treated like luggage–a cumbersome, exasperating inconvenience. Inanimate & unfeeling.

I also checked my bag so I wouldn’t give any other passengers another reason to be irritated with me. I bought a first class tickets bc they’re a bit wider, but mostly because there are partitions between seats. So complaints are less likely.

Although I bought a first class ticket, and despite being ~60 lbs smaller than I used to be, the tray table doesn’t fit around me. Without a tray table, I can’t work for the full six hours. I also won’t be able to eat the first class meal that comes with the ticket. I also won’t request anything so the flight attendant doesn’t have to reach over me, again prompting my seat mate to complain.

So I’ll sit silently, arms crossed, so I don’t encroach on my neighbor’s space.

Today, I was lucky–I boarded & the flight took off without incident. I hope I’m so lucky on my return flight. No one likes flying. It’s not comfortable for anyone. But for some of us, it’s a major physical, financial & emotional risk.

And this isn’t about emotional fragility. I’m vulnerable, but I’m tough. This is about airline policies, and about what happens when others decide to make an issue of my body.

I was complained about for the first time about six years ago. I will never forget it. I was on an oversold flight, moved to a middle seat. The man sitting next to me became increasingly agitated. I said hello, asked how he was. He didn’t respond. He got up several times to talk to a flight attendant, pointing angrily back at me. My stomach sunk as I realized what was happening. When he returned, he gathered his things and said sharply, “this is for your comfort. It’ll be better for both of us.” The FA looked at him blankly and said “no it’s not. Someone else will be sitting here.” He scowled at her, then me, then moved to his new seat–directly in front of me.

I spent the rest of the flight with my arms & legs crossed, humiliated and alone. No one spoke to me or made eye contact. The flight attendant didn’t speak to me, but gave free food and drinks to the others in my row–rewards for tolerating my presence. No one said anything. No one interrupted him or reached out to me. I was invisible.

At the end of the flight, as we filed into the aisle, the man who asked to be reseated spoke to me. “I wouldn’t do that to someone who was pregnant or in a wheelchair,” he said. “I know,” I said. “That’s what makes this so awful.”

I didn’t fly for a year and a half after that. Refused travel for work, didn’t see my family, only traveled where I could drive.

I fly now because I love my family, who live about a thousand miles away. I don’t know what my life would be without my niece & nephew. I fly because I value my job, & I’m good at it. & bc advancing my career means traveling. People bigger than me may not have that option. I fly because my life is my own, and others’ preconceptions of me & my body won’t control it. But they can make it much, much harder.

If you learned something from this thread/think others might, please RT. It would genuinely help if others knew where their complaints lead.

[twst-drabbles]

Scarabia 7

Summary: An iridescent feather was all it took for Kalim to pack up his bags and drag Jamil to the kingdom of the faeries. Jamil has trouble understanding this odd fascination he has. In fact, it’s almost scaring him a bit.

(Trust me when I say this AU has not been exiting my mind. It’s been floating around in there, but for some reason my fingers could not get it out. The fingers and brain would much rather churn out other things. Weird weird brain. Hate having to wrestle with it so. Also excuse the errors, I am kinda sleepy.)

From birth until death, Jamil will always be expected to entertain all of the wills and whimsies of Kalim. He cannot deny him any request if it is within his means, nor should he scorn him when he clearly is making mistakes. A servant, a guide, and a source of comfort all wrapped up in one. And all he has to do is keep this facade perfect until the day Kalim dies.

…what a joke, such a thing won’t happen. His services will likely be passed onto Kalim’s child, if he even makes it to that age. And if not his child, then the next sibling. Retirement is a dream meant for the privileged, and so long as those privileged few exist, Jamil will be made to serve them.

Jamil cannot ask too many questions, especially when it carries the possibility of offending the master.

He cannot ask Kalim of the origins of that iridescent feather. Cannot question why Kalim has spent the entire week simply gazing at it. Cannot even ask if he can look at it, no matter how familiar it may seem to him.

His dreams, they don’t matter, so he must always stifle them.

Clearly this wasn’t his place, and all Jamil can do is sigh in frustration when Kalim locked himself in his room. And sigh even deeper when Kalim burst out his room one day, claiming he wished to vacation in the main kingdom of faeries. Wanted to see the sight where the most beautiful feather came from.

And off they went on a personal caravan. And onto the dark stone they walk.

“And what will you do with this bird, if you end up finding it?”

How silly. Jamil already knows the answer to it already.

“Hmm? Ah, well I’m gonna keep it of course!” And the smile on Kalim’s face was as big as ever. Any wider and it would seem manic, but that’s simply the way his happiness works. He feels it in all of its intensity, even should it warp his features into something almost unplesant.

“Though, with how big of a cage you purchased, I’d predict I’ll have to take care of it sooner or later, won’t I?” As everything does. Cute novelties always lose their luster within half a year. Such was the fate of Kalim’s private zoo when he asked for it for his birthday. There were other servants to take care of it, but it never sit right with Jamil to just, let them do part of the work when he can perfectly take care of it himself.

That and his parents scolded him for daring to slack off, even though he pulled multiple muscles in his back. He could never quite lay back on his chair the same way ever since.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to touch them.”

Jamil stopped his tracks, the frankness of Kalim’s tone and the never wavering smile on his face almost had him believing he imagined it. “…Kalim?”

Kalim paused himself, blinking before his mind was pulled from his thoughts. He waved his hands, fumbling about in his nerves. “Ah, I’m sorry! That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“Whether it came out right or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t want me to touch your newest pet, then so it shall be,” Jamil shook his head, sighing out in hopes the urge to bit his lip will also pass.

“Sorry sorry…”

What Kalim doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The role of the perfect servant isn’t something that Jamil can simply be. It’s an act, a mask, and every so often Jamil has to pull it off.

Kalim was always a heavy sleeper, even more so when he’s been drinking from the various wines he had Jamil bring. Under the guise of some jovial fun, Jamil coaxed Kalim into drinking much more than usual. No thunderstorm would be able to wake him up. Kalim once almost drowned outside in a storm like that, napping without anything to protect him.

Jamil doesn’t sleep in the same room as Kalim, but here he was nonetheless. He took a glance to Kalim splayed out in his pile of pillows and blankets, sighed, then continued digging through the various bags and luggage.

Finally, Jamil’s fingers hit something. He pulled out a large, gold gilded, black box with a keyhole in it. He didn’t have to look for the key. It was tied with a silk ribbon right at the bottom of the box. Really, Kalim needs to be more careful, but Jamil certainly won’t tell him so. Perhaps later, but not now.

He opens the box and he was almost… disappointed at the sight. The feather was dull. All the rainbow light that would scatter upon the surface of the walls when daylight hit it wasn’t there. The plumes still pulsed with those delicate colors, but it didn’t hold the radiance that Jamil knows he saw when it was Kalim’s hands.

From his dreams, the shape was the same, and yet it was missing just about everything else. What was it, beyond its glow? The lack of numbers? The sturdy feeling of wings against his body? The face that was connected to it?

Face… what face? No matter how hard Jamil tried to claw through his memories, that face he wanted to see was no clearer.

Even with his disappointment, Jamil plucked the feather and held it in his hand.

Only then did its glow come back. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed forth and blinded Jamil’s unprepared eyes. He winced and held the feather to his chest, just in case it woke up Kalim.

He waited, but only heard a snort and a shifting. He’s still asleep.

Jamil blinked, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the brightness of it all.

There it was, the beauty he’s been seeking, that Kalim had been hoarding all to himself.

How silly. How stupid to be so taken by a feather. To have this simple item that was nothing more than a gift from a pen pal to Kalim to haunt Jamil so. To haunt both of them, actually.

Even with all those reservations in mind, Jamil lifted that feather and laid a gentle kiss on the body. It felt nice, feeling the plumes brush against his lips.

…he should put this away and go to bed. Kalim must never know what he just did.

[xanvasofxords]

“Natsu, what’s the matter?”

Lucy asks, pouring more coffee in her cup. Natsu doesn't bother answering, instead proceeds to open a bag of chips. Lucy leans on the doorframe and watches him with a frown.

She knows what���s wrong, though she wouldn’t, if not for Happy telling her. And she is upset, best friends are supposed to share everything with each other. He shouldn’t be the one to forget.

The celestial mage raises a brow, confused, when he motions her to sit beside him.

“Thought I was your best friend.” The dragon slayer rolls his eyes at this, as if she is the one acting weird. “What makes you think you aren’t?” “You’re not telling me anything!” She walks over to the couch and drops down beside him, visibly annoyed.

“And what exactly am I supposed to tell you?” His hard stare makes her stomach churn as he speaks, “Tell me.”

Suddenly, Lucy has to look away from him. There were so many emotions playing on his face, she swears, his gaze could be described as a sword piercing through her soul. Was she meant to see the anger, sorrow, pain, guilt... and love in his eyes? Or did she just her imagine all that?

“I just- I wanted to know if everything was alright between you and Lisanna,” she manages to say, “I know that’s personal but I want to help you. That’s what best friends are for.” She finishes without looking at him.

He just scoffs.

And the next moment Lucy finds herself straddling his lap. She squeals, her hands land on his shoulders for purchase. Embarassed, she almost forgets to breathe at his intent stare.

She tries to push off, “Natsu, what-”

“I’d prefer not talking about fights I have with my girlfriend, when I’m with you.” His hands on her bare waist keep her in place. His words don’t make any sense. Lisanna should be his only concern now, and he should be spending time with her.

And they sure as hell shouldn’t be sitting like this. What if Lisanna comes in, sees them and misunderstands the whole situation? Things can’t get worse.

“Natsu, let me go!”

He doesn’t, rather pulls her impossibly closer, arms wrapping around her middle in a tight embrace. He rests his head on her shoulder and draws in a long breath, making her shiver.

Lucy gives in, despite knowing it’s wrong, runs her hands through his unruly hair. The gesture always comforts him. Specially when he gets motion sick. “We shouldn’t be doing this, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should.”

“But I don’t.”

Lucy rests her chin on his head. “Buy her flowers and chocolates tomorrow, hmm?” She feels him sigh, and then finally nod. “She loves Dandelions.” The blonde reminds.

“Fine, I will.”

[aminiatureworld]

Distance

Characters: Childe, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,280

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: What other explanation could there be? Surely this is the one logical answer. Even if it hurts, even if it doesn’t make sense.

In which the reader’s s/o assumes the reader is no longer interested.

Author’s Note: This prompt is really fun to write so far but I feel terrible torturing the poor characters like this. Oops.

Childe

The warm wind tickled Childe’s hair, causing the Harbinger to bat a few orange strands out of his face, eyes still pinned on the harbor that was fast approaching. The balmy breeze of Liyue was refreshing – a reminder of all the things he had been missing on his long-drawn-out trip. Now Childe leaned against the railing of the ship, eager to touch land, unable to contain the excitement he felt at the knowledge of what was awaiting him upon the dock.

Though he didn’t like to admit it this trip had been a particularly harrowing one, not just for Childe but for you as well. The post was notoriously touch-and-go across the Seven nations, especially with the deep snows whirling into Snezhnaya this time of year. The fact that he was gone almost a month certainly didn’t help. If he had to admit it Childe had found himself worrying about the time more than usual, worried how it might affect you. Now he was eager to push all those thoughts away, to once more find himself next to you, all well with the world. As the crew bustled around him to prepare the junk for docking the Harbinger took a deep breath in. There was nothing to worry about. Soon all would be well.

The empty dock was a jarring sight. Though saying it was devoid of people wouldn’t technically be accurate, business was going on as usual after all, to Childe it might as well have been a ghost town. Stumbling slightly, suddenly unsure of where to go, Childe climbed up the ramp awkwardly. Finding no one waiting for him on the stone pier as well, anxiety began to coil in Childe’s stomach. Had something happened? Ignoring the thoughts that flurried through his mind he quickly wove his way through the streets of Liyue. Though the city was bustling as always, laughter and shouting echoing through the air as people haggled and joked and went about their business, Childe found himself disconnected from his surroundings. His only thought was to find you, hopefully safe and sound and happy to see him.

There was no sign of anything wrong as Childe approached the door to your shared apartment. Sighing softly he dug around in his pack for the keys. You’d probably just fallen asleep, having recently taken up the habit of afternoon naps, according to your letters. Childe couldn’t really complain if that were the case, after all rest was important and you could hardly be blamed for not being aware of the time while conked out. Yes, surely you were asleep. Then Childe could give you the surprise of waking next to him. A smirk graced Childe’s lips at the thought of it, and as he turned the key in the lock he reassured himself. There was nothing to be worried about.

Unfortunately the Harbinger’s genius hypothesis had proven to be a false one. A quick scouring of the apartment revealed that you were not there, and no signs of any abnormal activity could be found as an explanation. Anxiety seeping into Childe’s mind he barely set down his pack before bolting out of the door, trying somewhat unconvincingly to keep his pace to a fast walk. Had something happened to you? Surely not! Childe knew you, knew that you could very well take care of yourself. He shouldn’t worry.

Still the thought passed through his head, combined with an even more unpleasant one. Had you simply forgotten about him? What if you didn’t care? Shaking his head the Harbinger took in a deep breath. He was overthinking things, still stuck in the mindset of a Harbinger. Not everything in life was a battle, hadn’t you told him that many times, teasing his constant need to see an obstacle to beat somewhere? He really should take your advice more seriously, at least in this case. Slowly down slightly Childe walked to the city center. He was sure his answer would be here; and that it would be so mundane as to not bother a second thought.

His pulse jumped in his throat as you finally entered his field of vision. You were sitting around with a few people, coworkers if the Guild crest and weaponry didn’t serve him wrong, chatting and smiling and overall having a wonderful time. Emotions stirred through Childe, the urge to run up to you, to stalk away, to find the nearest fountain and jump into it; but he stayed put, staring at your laughing face, pain flashing in his chest. He supposed he should’ve felt angry, felt like he’d been stood up. Instead all he felt was sadness, sadness and guilt.

Finally turning around Childe plodded back down the street, steps slow and sluggish. What did he expect really, for you to wait around for him forever? How was that fair? There was no reason you shouldn’t grow sick of waiting, shouldn’t want more out of your life. You were perfectly within your rights to want such a thing. Yet the pain continued, spreading throughout his chest until Childe felt like his lungs were on fire and his throat was crumpled in a fist of his own making.

Arriving back at the apartment a supernatural urge seemed to seize the Harbinger. Pack, he needed to pack. He wouldn’t burden you anymore, wouldn’t continue to strain your emotions by hanging around like a phantom. Luckily Childe wasn’t the kind of person to own a lot of things. Not that you really were either, between the both of you purchases mainly went into gifts for each other rather than personal buys. Childe now stood looking down at some of the things you’d bought or made for him. Scarves, books, a stuffed animal that had reminded you of his Delusion; all of these things lay peacefully on the shelf, giving the books behind them a slightly trapped looked. It was so homey and so comforting that Childe found tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Wiping his eyes roughly the Harbinger collapsed onto the couch. What was he doing? Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t just wait for you to come home, wait and see where you two really were. But it seemed unfair to do that. After all, what kind of sleazy person left their partner for a month then begged for their love and attention right after coming home? It was completely within your rights to want more, hadn’t Childe already made that clear to himself? And yet it hurt, it hurt so much. How had he managed to mess this all up, to let the thing most precious to him fall out of his hands? He had been so careless.

Giving himself up to his emotions Childe let the pooling tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly everything seemed so very heavy. Closing his eyes for a moment Childe sighed. Five minutes, he would give himself five minutes before returning to his packing. Yet the familiar comfort of the couch beckoned to him, and soon fatigue overwhelmed him, dragging him down into the realm of sleep. Thankfully, he dreamt of nothing.

“Childe what are you doing?!”

Lurching up Childe glanced around wildly, hands automatically moving to summon his weapon. For a few seconds he found himself utterly confused, unable to comprehend where he was or what was going on. Soon enough however, the situation came crashing back to him and the Harbinger lowered his weapon. Glancing up at you he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next.

Well you certainly seemed upset, though not exactly in the way Childe might have expected. Instead of anger there seemed something more akin to panic in your eyes, and the red patches on your face certainly pointed to distress more than anything else.

“Is something wrong?”

“Is something wrong, you tell me that!” You took in a few erratic breaths, but your tone remained panicky. “Why are you packing? Do you have another trip? Why are you leaving?”

“I, I thought that it would be easier if I just left.” Childe lowered his head, unable to look you in the eyes. “I figured that I would spare you the pain of having to kick me out yourself.”

“Why in Teyvat would I kick you out?” You sat down on the couch next to Childe, and he could feel your eyes piercing through him. “What’s going on?”

“I didn’t see you at the docks when I returned.” Childe paused, gathering his thoughts. “At first I thought that you’d just fallen asleep or something but you weren’t home. And when I saw you out with your friends, well it made me realize how distant I’ve really been; physically, emotionally, everything. I realized that, and I realized that you deserved better, that I hadn’t been doing enough. I realized that you deserve more, deserve a partner who will always be there for you, who you won’t always have to be waiting for.”

“Oh Ajax.” You whispered softly.

Raising his head Childe could see no relief in your expression. Instead sadness was plainly plastered upon your face. Reaching out your hands you let Childe slump against you, carding your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry my darling, I thought you were coming back tomorrow. That’s why I was out. I would never think such a thing as abandoning you,” you spoke softly, tone achingly soft, “I mean it. Our relationship isn’t conventional, that’s true; but I would never trade it for anything. I would never think that you weren’t giving enough, I know how hard you work and how much you put into everything you know. Believe me Ajax, I don’t begrudge you any distance, I’ve never lacked love from you.”

“But what if one day you want something more,” Childe couldn’t help but ask, “what if one day letters aren’t enough? What if one day, what if one day I’m not enough?”

“I promise that will never happen,” you let out a soft sigh, “really Ajax you hold yourself too cheaply. You shouldn’t underestimate yourself, or underestimate me for that matter. You will always be enough for me. There will never be a day I want anything or anyone different, and if need be I will remind you of that every. single. day.”

Punctuation the last three words with kisses to Childe’s head you smiled as he titled his face up to gaze into yours. Though the panic had evaporated from you there was still sadness, and for a moment Childe felt guilt wash over him, guilt that he had caused you so many trials and that he hadn’t even had the courage to face you about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Although I do appreciate you understanding that almost stealing out into the night nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Not my brightest moment.” Childe admitted.

“Perhaps not,” you laughed, “I mean really, you’d think that it was the second act of a tragedy or something, and not one I’d like to participate in.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! Just don’t do it again, or next time I’ll get genuinely angry, and then you won’t get off the hook so easily.”

Childe pressed his lips to yours, another unspoken apology. Though you let out a small huff of impatience you nevertheless leaned into the kiss, smiling against his lips as you let your hands drift from his hair to his shoulders.

That night Childe lay awake, listening to the soft cadence of your breath, indulging in the feeling of peace that lay over him. Though he knew that his worries and insecurities would never truly leave him, Childe nonetheless felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe one days his fears would come true, maybe one day this life wouldn’t be enough. But “ifs” and “maybes” weren’t guarantees, and until that day happened Childe would cherish the time he spent with you.

Besides, Childe trusted no one as much as he trusted you. If you said that such a day would never come to pass, then surely you were right.

  Kaeya

You were working late again.

Kaeya supposed that it shouldn’t have bothered him, but then again he also supposed that almost anyone would feel somewhat uneasy if their colleague and partner was suddenly avoiding them like the plague.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not much in Kaeya’s mind. Of course, if this were some sort of habit then he would hardly mind; but after months of making it a tradition to always walk home together, well, safe to say the whole thing didn’t sit well. Nor was it simply a matter of you staying to work late, even the days where you finished earlier than him it seemed that you were always dashing off somewhere, leaving him painfully out of the loop.

Now Kaeya stood across the room from you, fingers drumming on his arm, face carefully hiding the irritation and concern that rose up inside him, threatening to spill over.

“I’m really sorry Kaeya!” Your tone was sincere, and the apology in your eyes seemed genuine enough. “It’s just that Jean asked me to look over the ledgers for the infantry. You know the captain is out this week, but Jean didn’t want to have to owe the City and the soldiers in terms of late funds. I promise it won’t take that long, I’ll be done as fast as I can.”

“Why don’t I help you with it?” Kaeya could feel the sarcasm sweetening his tone, attempted to rein it in he stared at you silently.

“You’ve been working so hard, I wouldn’t want to bother you with extra work.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother at all. Anything for my dear partner.”

“Really, it’s fine!” You twisted your hands, a nervous habit that Kaeya had long ago picked up on. “I’ll be done in time for dinner. And then we can the new recipe you’ve been telling me about; okay?”

“Very well.”

“Thanks for understanding!”

Though you seemed happy enough by the proposition Kaeya noticed how fast your head moved to the papers on your desk. Closing the door behind him he heard you let out a loud sigh. Clenching his hands, as if to remind himself that he was still in a semi-public setting, Kaeya stalked out of the Knight’s Headquarters. The thoughts in his head felt like static, and he worried that if he remained still for one more moment it would swallow him up.

Walking the streets of Mondstadt, Kaeya tried to reflect back upon the past few weeks. Had he done something wrong? Wracking his brain for any serious disputes Kaeya came up frustratingly emptyhanded. If you had fought over something this whole debacle would be one thing. Kaeya had a temper of his own, and petty acts of anger was something he admittedly struggled with often enough. He could hardly fault you if you acted in a similar way, or at least not without admitting to his own faults.

And yet nothing had happened, nothing that might cause such a dispute. Clenching his hands one more, aware that his knuckles must’ve been bone white, Kaeya let his thoughts drift to darker waters. What if you were just sick of him? It was certainly plausible, or at least Kaeya thought so. It would certainly explain why you now seemed to be avoiding him like the plague outside of work.

The thought hurt, as it might well do, but surprisingly most of the pain didn’t come from the idea itself, but from the idea that you wouldn’t tell him such a thing. You falling out of love with Kaeya would be been incredibly painful. You not trusting him enough to the point you were simply avoiding him, well the thought was enough to knock the wind out of him. Did you really think so ill of him? The idea filled Kaeya with smoldering rage and indignation – fueled in no little part by the fact that Kaeya ultimately might agree with you. Usually thoughts like those were the kinds you hated, the kinds you chased away with a stick, assuring Kaeya that no matter his past decisions he was still worthwhile. But you weren’t here now, and those dark thoughts were now kindling for the fire that burned in Kaeya’s mind.

By the time he’d reached the apartment Kaeya was almost sure of his hypothesis. Though a small part of his brain reminded him that he was working of a diet of sleep deprivation and anger, such logical thinking was easy enough to shrug off. After all, the signs were there. You were evidently getting quite sick of him, it was hardly Kaeya’s fault that he caught on.

Throwing his equipment on the floor, not bothering to even put his sword up on its stand, the Cavalry Captain walked towards the kitchen. What he needed was drink, maybe even two. Really if it were up to him he’d spend the next hour or so getting as drunk as possible before passing out in the tub. Thankfully though his reason hadn’t completely left him, and Kaeya managed to limit himself to two and a half glasses of cider. He needed to be at least on the side of sober for the conversation that was bound to pass once you came home after all.

The lateness of the hour in which you arrived felt like a personal insult, though really it was only 21:00 or so.

“Kaeya?” You called out, whipping the Cavalry Captain out of his thoughts.

Stepping into the kitchen the grin on your face was a stark contrast to the emotions that swirled in Kaeya’s mind. Hands clasped behind your back you stood in the doorframe as if expecting something. You’d probably be in for a nasty surprise. Kaeya smiled sweetly at you, words burning in his mouth, mixing with the alcohol. This was a bad idea.

“How was the paperwork?”

“The paperwork? Oh! It was boring enough I suppose. I kept getting distracted though, I really should’ve had you there, you could’ve kept me from nodding off.”

“I’m sure I would have. Tell me something my dear, I have a question that’s been burning in my mind.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me why it is that out lovely Acting Grandmaster asked you to go over the ledgers when I was assigned to that exact thing yesterday?”

Ignoring the blotches of red that immediately spread across your cheeks Kaeya stood up. Carefully going to clean the glass he’d been using he stared into the sink, not trusting himself to look at you. If he did all the words he wanted to say would fly out at once, and something that probably shouldn’t be said with them.

“Did she ask you that? How odd! She must’ve wanted a second pair of eyes or something, I guess.”

“Are my eyes not good enough?”

“Kaeya, you know I wasn’t insulting your work.” A sort of shocked irritation ran through your voice. “You’re the best knight in Mondstadt after all.”

“Oh really? Well if you think so highly of me then why have you been avoiding me so much?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Then let me ask a different question; when was the last time we walked home together?”

“I don’t know, a week and a half ago?”

“Try two and a half.” Kaeya finally turned around, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you!” Indignation shot through your words as you shook your head. “I’m just busy recently.”

“Busy with made up work.”

“It’s not made up!”

“Oh really, then tell me what was your work last night?”

“I had to oil the bow strings for my regiment.”

“They couldn’t do it themselves according to protocol?”

“Not the new recruits they couldn’t!”

“Then what about the day before?”

“Kaeya!” You finally burst out. “I don’t know why you’re so quick to find fault with me right now! Just tell me what you’re getting at, if you’re going to insult me you might as well do it head on.”

A part of him admired you for wanting to look at the problem right in the face, another part of him thought of how well you knew him, how attuned you were to his moods. Just as he had figured out that you were avoiding him, so could you tell that his jabs were a misdirection. It was almost funny really, seeing the things you both had picked up about one another now used at the end.

“Fine.” Kaeya crossed his arms, hoping his expression was at least somewhat neutral. “It seems obvious to me that you’ve been avoiding me, and that you no longer want my company. What I am getting at is the fact that you want to break up, and that you evidently trust me so little with that fact that the only solution you’ve come up with is to avoid me.”

Your face went slack with shock, pupils turning to pinpricks as you stumbled backwards. Finally letting your arms fall to your sides you grabbed the side of the doorframe, as if unable to process what he just come out of your partner’s mouth.

“What?”

“Do you really trust me so little?” Kaeya pressed on, feeling his emotions begin to spill over. “Am I really so untrustworthy that you can’t even tell me you want to end things? Am I, am I really that untrustworthy?”

Everything seemed to be going all wrong. Kaeya had expected you to immediately fess up, had expected guilt and relief and then the end. Instead all he got was incredulous silence, incredulous silence and a look that screamed utter and total disbelief.

“Do you really think that I would do that to you?”

The question was a simple enough one, one that anyone might ask during a conversation of this nature. Still your tone was so dispassionate that Kaeya couldn’t help but pause. Did he really think that you would do such a thing? His anger certainly thought so, helped a great deal by his current buzzed state. All that aside however, did he really think that? When he woke up tomorrow, would these thoughts still be swirling through his head, these angry thoughts that threatened to burn through his happiness.

“I don’t know.” It was the best answer he could give.

“Then why would you accuse me of something you weren’t even sure of?”

“I…”

“Kaeya have you really thought so little about what you just told me?”

He almost wanted to apologize for how stupid his words seemed in retrospect.

“Would it help you if I told you where I actually was?”

Your voice was still quiet, but not entirely closed. Nodding stiffly Kaeya felt his fingers still.

“Very well. You were right about one thing, I wasn’t actually checking the ledgers for Jean; and I wasn’t oiling bowstrings all day either, I mean our troops should know how to do that at least. But you made one mistake in your judgement Kaeya, the idea that I was avoiding you. In truth I was gathering materials, I wanted to make a new sword for you. Your current one is so brittle and since I know you don’t want to use the sword you were given as an heirloom, well I thought that I wouldn’t wait for your current one to break and that your new one would be a present.”

“…I see.”

It was all Kaeya could get out; how else could he reply? Shame and guilt mingled within his mind, quickly dousing any anger that he might’ve felt. He really fucked up this one didn’t he. He let his emotions slip once more and now he had made a fool of himself. More than that he had refused to trust you, had ended up doing the exact thing he had just accused you of. Now what was there to do? He couldn’t exactly slink away with his dignity; even if he had managed to retain that, there weren’t many places to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Kaeya jerked his head up from the spot he’d been examining on the floor, confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. You stared into his eyes, shrugging slightly.

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry Kaeya, I should’ve come up with a better method. I didn’t mean to make you worried, or to make you feel like I wanted to no longer associate with you. Believe me that’s the last thing I want to do. So I’m sorry that I made you feel that way.”

“I was the one who accused you of all those things that weren’t true.”

“You did. I’m not very happy about that to be honest; you’re going to be doing some serious penance for the next week. I just figured that before that I would apologize. Then we could be even. Okay?”

Reaching out your hand Kaeya finally noticed what you’d been hiding. The windwheel aster was slightly limp, the breeze that gave it its beauty nowhere to be found. Nevertheless it seemed at the moment the most beautiful flower in the world. Walking over to you Kaeya tentatively took the flower in his hand. Smiling softly he leaned down to kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

Tomorrow he’d start making it up to you. Tomorrow he wouldn’t listen to his demons, wouldn’t let his own lack of self-worth hurt you. Tomorrow he would do better by you and more. Today he would say sorry.

After all, he had plenty of time.

[kimnjss]

unconscious confession | jhs

⤑  series: heartbreaker

⤑ pairing: stoner!hoseok x cheerleader!reader

⤑ genre: fluff !! 

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.4 // unedited

⤑ warnings: use of recreational drugs..!!

⤑ A/N: hiiii! thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far and giving me feedback with each and every update !! i really appreciate it honestly it’s a really big motivator for me. sooo i hope you like this part as well, don’t forget to let me know what you think . and also it’s this hoseok walking around lmao .

OCTOBER 3RD, 2020 | 19:26

Hoseok showed up to the game while the players were still practicing and you and the rest of the squad were in the middle of stretches. He looks effortlessly handsome from the quick glimpse you get before he's slumping down onto the metal. Focus on tucking each crumble of weed into the paper, but he'd occasionally steal glances at you on the field.

And your eyes meet each and every time. He played into the casual feel he wanted to set for tonight, an oversized pale yellow shirt underneath his light denim jacket. The pants he wears matches the jean of his jacket but are covered in rips, hair being held back by a headband. You've never noticed it before, but staring at him from the field when you really should be stretching had you realizing how well he carried himself. All of the time.

Thankfully, you're able to keep focus while you're actually cheering. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that rises in your chest at the sight of him cheering for you (it's not for the players on the field who are losing, badly). He even waves cutely at you as you're being thrown in the air and you consider ruining your form to wave back. But decide against it, Jimin would throw a fit.

His attention is on you from kickoff through overtime, taking the steps two at a time as the players line up to congratulate the winning team. “Ooh. Here comes your biggest fan,” Jimin points out from beside you, slightly breathless from the back-to-back routines.

You're gulping down mouthfuls of water, so you actually don't see when Hoseok makes his way over to you. Not until Jimin's words are registering and your head is whipping around to catch the wide smile on his pretty face. He doesn't hesitate to drop his arm over your shoulders, easily tucking your body into his side.

Instantly, you're engulfed in the familiar scent of him. The subtle stench of weed masked by his sweet cologne. You've never been around a guy who smelt as sweet as Hoseok always did, used to the overpowering stink of AXE body spray, but you're convinced he's never purchased a bottle. 

He's offering a quick nod of acknowledgment to Jimin, which is met with a halfhearted wave as he leans down to tie his laces. “You were pretty cool cheering,” He tries to be nonchalant with his compliment, eyes focused on the sky as he talks. Which is pointless, you already caught the way he had been cheering from the crowd.

“'Pretty cool', that's it?” There's a playful smirk on your lips that he finds way more inciting than he should. But, he's determined to keep his cool in front of you so all he does is lift his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, pretty cool.” He repeats in the same tone as before.

You don't even bother to mask the snicker that sneaks past your lips. “I put my leg behind my head it was just 'pretty cool'? Maybe you need an up-close demonstration?” It's the one that you use that catches him off guard, highlighting the meaning behind your suggestion.

He stumbles slightly, eyes widening slightly. That was obviously something he's thought about before... respectfully. This wasn't the first time he's seen what your body could do and it never failed to get his mind wandering. Of course, he's thought if he had the chance to sleep with you, would you pull out the same tricks you do on the field. Who wouldn't wonder that with someone they were pursuing? 

But, the fact that you were mentioning it. Hinting at it like you were planning for exactly that to happen, that was a whole different ballpark. And it's obvious from the slightly dazed look in his eye, that you can't help but laugh at. Pulling him from his thoughts with the sound of your laugh.

“You're funny,” You say through your laughter, which he's quickly catching on to – soft chuckles leaving his lips.

He leads you all the way to the locker rooms, where he waits outside for you to change out of your uniform and into the sweater and jeans you had picked out for your date. Compliment at the edge of his tongue the moment you're stepping out, arm dropping back down around your shoulder.

While the two of you walk to his car, he fills you in on the hilarious thing Jeongguk did that morning. And you laugh along with him. Like an actual laugh, not one of those forced ones to boost his ego. He's animated as he speaks, gesturing wide and goofy voices tagged as his friend's voices.

You're a few steps from his car when he's rushing ahead of you, pulling the car door open before dramatically gesturing to it. “M'lady,” He says as you pass him and you know he's just kidding, but your heart skips a beat.

There's got to be something wrong with you, you're sure of it. You've been on tons of dates in the past and here you were all warm and fuzzy inside and the date has barely started. It was comforting being around Hoseok, though. As if you've always known him, you hardly had to do any thinking when you texted and it was no different in person.

You can't help but wonder if it felt like that for him too. A connection like that can't just go unnoticed, right? Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. “Will you tell me now where we're going?” You're asking as he's settling into the space beside you, tugging his seatbelt around his waist.

“I won't tell you until we're there.” You had spent the entire night before trying to guess where he was taking you, which was no use. The shrug emoji was a favorite of his you were quickly realizing. “It's really cool, though. You're gonna like it,” He says with a grin.

If that was supposed to ease your curious mind, it does the exact opposite. A place he was sure you were going to like? How would he know? Talked for seven days straight, but that's only one week. Do you really know what someone likes after one week?

Hoseok's quiet the entire car ride, a small smile playing on his lips as he drives. You're too busy striking out possible date locations to make any conversation, so the soft sound of his music is the only noise that fills the car. He's humming along to the beat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, hair being swept by the wind. He's something out of a movie, it's hard to really focus on anything else.

Ten whole minutes pass of you shamelessly admiring his profile before he's shoving the car into park. “We're here,” Arms stretched out in front of him and your eyes squint, figuring you're missing something. “Where's here?” You're asking when you can't find the answer for yourself.

Hoseok lets out a small laugh, hand reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “You gotta get out to see it,” He's at your door seconds later, pulling it open and offering his hand out to you. Which you take, allowing him to pull you from the warmth and into the night wind. With his fingers laced with yours, he leads you away from the car.

You were standing on a cliff and the closer you get to the edge, the prettier it gets. Lights from the city below twinkling, but it looks so quiet. “You can see everything up here,” His fingers are still laced with yours, forgotten between you. “Right. I like to come here sometimes and just look,” Even with the endless conversation the two of you shared throughout the week, there were still quite a few things you didn't know about him.

Like the fact that he had a spot or the reason, he felt like he needed one in the first place. “How come you wanted to have our date here?” Aren't spots supposed to be private? Wouldn't showing you where he goes to 'just look', take away from that?

All at once, he's becoming all too aware with the warmth of your hand in his. The small tingle he feels throughout his palm that he had done a good job at ignoring up until now. It's the reason he's wiggling his fingers from your grasp and shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

He's plopping down on the rock with a thud, shoulders shrugging. “I don't know. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like bringing you here. So I did.” He's trying to be cool and you're not too sure why. There's a code in his words that isn't at all hard to read. He wanted to bring you here, let you in on a piece of him and no matter how nonchalant he tried to act about it, that's what it was.

So you're lowering yourself to sit beside him. From his pocket, he's pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and tucking it between his lips. He's quick with lighting it, taking his time with inhaling. “I don't really go on dates like that, you know. I mean, I do... but I don't. When I take girls out, it's like a gratuity, you know? But, I like talking to you and I wanted to show you something cool too. So I brought you here,”

His free hand rests on the ground behind you, inadvertently pulling your body closer to his. “Do you like it?” There's a bit of hopefulness in his voice that's hard to miss.

You're smiling brightly up at him, nodding your head to rid him of any confusion. “I like it. It's really pretty. Thank you for showing it to me,” Just your smile was enough to have the flutter starting up in his chest, but the way you talked to him? He'd turn into a blubbering fool if he wasn't careful.

He extends his hand, wordlessly offering the smoke out to you. And you're assuming that he just wants you to hold it for a second, so you pluck it from his fingers. And wait. He's snorting out a laugh at the patient look on your face. “You gonna hit it or...?”

“Oh! Uhm... no?” He's quick with pulling it from your fingers at the rejection, no desire to waste anything. “Why not? Are you like a good girl or something?” He teases, words coming through a cloud of smoke.

You're letting out a scoff, eyes rolling at his words. “No. I'm an athlete. My body is my most important instrument. Which includes my lungs,” He's bursting out laughing at the snootiness hidden in your tone. A loud laugh contagious laugh that could probably be heard throughout the entire city.

“Well, excuse me,” He speaks through your dying laughter.

With his arm resting behind you, you're naturally leaning into his side. The calm of the night and having him so close has a warm feeling settling in your chest, so much so that it's hard to contain the smile that has spread onto your features. Sitting in comfortable silence and watching the city below and it doesn't feel weird.

Content with just being around him and that's something you've never felt before. Whether or not he was feeling it too was lost on you, his focus on moving the blunt to and from his lips, a cloud of smoke forming above your heads.

“You see that greenish building?” You're pointing a little ways ahead of you. He has to lean forward and squint to see what you're referring to but nods once he spots it. “That's my middle school,” Punctuating your words with a grin up at him.

His fingers move to flick his scraps into the window, his body moving closer to you now that his focus wasn't split. “What was Middle School Yn like?” His free hand fidgets with the pebbles on the other side of his body, the other resting over your shoulder.

“Middle School Yn?” You repeat with a laugh, head tilting to the side as you're brought back to what you were like in middle school. Nothing like how you've turned out. “She was... different?” You're laughing again, planning on leaving it at that.

But, he's got this expectant look on his face, waiting for you to go on. So you do. “I kept to myself mostly, didn't have many friends. Not nearly as confident as I am now. I read a lot and did my homework. That's it,” He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised by the fact that you weren't always this popular magazine cut-out creation of yourself.

He doesn't even bat an eye, simply nodding at your words. “So you were a little nerdy?” His words don't come out in the rude unconvinced way that you've heard before when showing your past yearbooks. It's more like he's trying to get an image of what you looked like back than despite anything else.

“You could say that,” He's nodding, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Cute. Middle School me would've had the biggest crush on you.” Hoseok speaks as if it's just another fact like his words don't have a flutter shooting through your chest.

And with how sure he was that you two would've hit it off in middle school, you can't help but become curious. “What were you like back then?” You try to picture what a younger version of him would look like. How he'd act. Probably still cool, unbothered by most things that would usually send kids into a rage.

Your imagination doesn't get too far before he's answering. “I was a bit of a hothead... always wanted to fight someone. I was sensitive and emotional, so I argued a lot with whoever. I had a ton of friends, though. But looking, they were probably just afraid of not being my friend.” He laughs so you offer up a small giggle.

Your hand had been mindlessly resting on his thigh before, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he speaks. “So why do you think you'd have a crush on me?” From the way he described himself, it seemed like you two wouldn't even sit by each other – let alone be close enough that he'd develop a crush.

He's shrugging at your words, an action that you've quickly realized is his favorite. A way to give off nonchalance, but looking close enough it's not hard to detect the light blush that dusts over his cheeks. “You said you were quiet. I think I would've liked being around you. Listening to you talk... like now,” His arm drops from your shoulders to wrap around your waist, using his grip to pull you closer to him.

“Think if I met you then or now, I'd still be into the way you smile... or the pretty way you roll your eyes when you're trying to act annoyed. And yeah, just you.” His hand reaches for yours in his lap, loosely twisting your fingers with his. “Any version of me would like you,” It's so soft, you're not sure if that last part was meant for you to hear.

His eyes are focused out in front of you, not even slightly looking like someone that just confessed. So you ignore it, summing it up as a slip of the tongue. You don't comment, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from taking over your stomach.

All at once, you're being met with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Just to see what it feels like. Throw out the self-proclaimed challenge you set for yourself because Arya was probably wrong. You've spent the entire night with the guy, he cheered you on from the crowd, brought you to his spot, and now this... unconscious confession. The fact that he liked you was on his mind so much that he was saying it without even realizing it.

You found it extremely hard to think someone like that would have the wrap sheet he was given. Or, maybe he did in the past... but with you it was different. Why else would he take you here, invite you into his space and talk to you the way that he has if it wasn't anything different? Right?

Right.

So before you can talk yourself out of it, you're tilting your head to the side to face him. “It's pretty here, huh?” Voice much softer now, you've taken control of the fiddling of fingers. Twisting yours around him and occasionally brushing your nails against his skin. It's subtle enough to be taken lightly but just enough to leave his skin tingling.

He's quick to pick up on your change of demeanor, brows raising in slight surprise, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he's following your lead, leaning his body in closer to yours. “Mhm. Quiet too, nobody really comes over here,” His fingers tug at the belt loops in your jeans, tongue pushing out to wet his lips.

“That's good,” Your breath brushes against his lips as you speak, eyes dropping to his lips. He doesn't say anything else, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp just so he can spread his palm on the side of your neck. And then his lips are crashing down onto yours, hand holding your head in place.

Hoseok kisses you slowly at first, mouth molding with yours. But it's not long before he's brushing his tongue over your lips, testing the waters before he's plunging in. Fingers pressed into his jeans, you try to keep your head from spinning as his tongue pushes against yours. He tastes earthy... but a little sweet. It's intoxicating.

With two hands planted firmly on your hips, he's easily lifting you onto his lap. The movement so fast it's forcing you to break the kiss, a squealed laugh breaking the kiss. Which he meets with a wide grin, reaching to push your hair from your face. Slowly, he drags the tips of his fingers over your jawline, until he's holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I really like your lips,” He says through a groan, leaning in to cover your mouth with his once more. Hands dropping to cover the curve of your ass, pushing your body further up on his lap so your hips collide. You can feel his half-hard cock pressed against your thigh and it takes everything in you not to grind your hips forward.

The feeling of his cool hands slipping underneath your sweater has a shiver running down your spine. Body reacting to the way his fingers climb up your skin, grazing over the underwire of your bra. His teeth tug at your lower lip and you feel the twitch of his cock hardening as his hands slide underneath.

Your slow with pulling back, not fully wanting to pull away – but knowing if you didn't stop now you wouldn't be able to convince yourself later on. It's cute, though, the way his lips chase yours as you put distance between the two of you. When he's not tasting the peach of your lip gloss, his eyes flutter open.

Two large hands resting over your breasts, cheeks matching the color of his eyes. “You don't want to?” He looks genuinely confused, like someone not wanting to sleep with him right away was some foreign concept. Still, he's pulling his hands from the inside of your shirt, resting them behind him.

“Not yet,” He nods, glossy lips spreading into a smile. “Okay,” He leans up to press a reassuring kiss to your nose before he's sliding you off of his lap. And then, without missing a beat he's saying. “I bet I can name more constellations than you,” Completely wiping away any possibility of an awkward moment rising.

Challenging you with a smirk on his face and the comfortable atmosphere you had been in before is quickly returning. “Yeah, okay.” He's stretched out on the ground so he can look at the sky properly and you're quick to lower yourself beside him.

And just like that, you're pointing out clusters of stars, laughing at the ridiculous names that you come up with. Your head pressed to his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You don't even notice as the hours tick by.

— you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[solomonish]

selfless (to a fault?) [nowdateables]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships.

brothers here!

Diavolo

So. Diavolo might not notice right away. It’s not ignorance! He’s just very busy, and public appearances are important to keep up, so one of the ways he keeps up with you happens to be exactly what you have trouble accepting. Large bouquets sent to the House of Lamentation when you’re there, a word sent out to any of his staff out where you may be to make your life easier however possible (Mammon tries to tag along with you all the time, hoping to hear the magic words: “His highness has graciously waived the fee for all exchange students’ purchases today!”) - and he’s not even there to see the way your smile looks a little more like a grimace, or the way you stare uncomfortably at the little gift.

He seems to love that you are so willing to try and help him out - even if there isn’t much you can do, since he handles a lot of sensitive documents and information. But, considering he’s so lonely, when it comes to reciprocating he sort of follows your lead?

He knows, on a surface level, how to be in a relationship, but considering you’re a human AND he doesn’t have a lot of interpersonal relationships for practice...he sort of follows your lead, and hopes your way of giving love is the same as your way of receiving.

You’ll have to bring it up to him, which is a nerve-wracking experience on its own, eased only by the fact that you know Diavolo has done his best to make sure you KNOW you can bring up any issues you have. He is very good at opening his ears to you and helping you problem solve, and when dealing with the things he cares about (yes, YOU) he is very direct about problem solving.

The moment you stand before him, Diavolo notices the way you fidget with your hands and almost refuse to look at him directly. He immediately stops what he’s doing, putting everything down and turning in his seat. If he’s at his desk, he gestures for you to come to his side and asks you directly - “What’s wrong?”

It seems terrible to directly accuse the prince of wanting to manipulate you, so instead you ask, “What did you want in exchange for those gifts?” And for a moment, he does not know what you are talking about. First of all, WHICH gifts, there’s so many, and secondly did he come across as wanting something in return other than your happiness?

No matter what he was doing before, he will set aside all of the time he needs to at least start to communicate to you that he has no ulterior motives with his gifts to you. If you’d like him to stop with such blatant displays of affection, he will, but it’s more important to him that you know he is only trying to communicate how he feels when he cannot do it directly.

Barbatos

This is a relationship where you might have to bring it up before you even start dating. Either that or he WILL get a hint before then. He’s a butler! Not only is he normally serving other people, he is a master at standing in the back and watching people. He notices the way you awkwardly hold your tea cup after he gives it to you, or decline anything that he offers you when given the chance. It just comes up by nature of who he is.

Before he is interested in pursuing a relationship, he simply brushes it off as the unfamiliarity of having someone wait on you. Perhaps you’re particularly independent, or you just never really are in a situation where someone waits on you like he does. Either way, it isn’t really much of his business.

But...it is very obvious in a relationship. He just...defaults to helping others. Sure, he knows how to separate work and his personal life (though, to be fair, there is not much of a “personal life” there with how much time work takes up, so maybe that needs to be revisited. some day...) but even with that separation he enjoys providing solutions for people and helping out. It brings him joy to help make your life a little easier if he can help, and it’s something he’s good at.

Still, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and he definitely doesn’t want to make you think that he’s treating you the way he treats people as a job. If he wanted to, he could most likely peer into different timelines or even into your past, try to figure out what’s bothering you...but he knows better than to creep into places you haven’t explicitly told him you want him. Besides, communication is important, and this seems a prime opportunity to put that to use.

So he asks you one day when you visit him at the castle, after he notices your hesitation to respond to him when he offers to help you with something you were complaining about. “Why does it make you uncomfortable when I offer my assistance to you?”

You freeze for a moment. “Wouldn’t you be able to find that out on your own?” “Would you like me to?” “...no, not really.”

He isn’t one to press you for information, or to ask a thousand times if you know he’d never use any of his attempts to make your life in the Devildom easier against you. Barbatos will listen to what you have to say intently and do his best to mesh to what you think you’re most comfortable with. He does intend to help you accept help as much as he can, but it’ll be so subtle you’ll hardly even notice. With the little amount of time he already gets with you, he’s already practiced in making the most of it - what’s one more little task to the greatest butler in all the realms?

Solomon

See, this is a relationship that doesn’t necessarily depend on the whole “acts of kindness” thing. (Like, it does to the same degree any relationship does, but considering I think you’d both be pretty independent people and the helping each other aspect normally comes from things you’re doing together anyway. If that makes sense.)

Still, he does notice how...surprised you look when he surprises you with a flashy spell he learned, or when he hears you complaining about your course load or Lucifer’s expectations for you. You decline every single offer he gives you to help, and you never look as happy as he hopes you will when he shows you his spells. (Depending on what stage you are at in the relationship, how is he supposed to impress you if you never want him to do things for you !!!)

However, he is accustomed to holding information close to his chest, and he isn’t always the best at asking about people’s emotions. So, even though sometimes you jump at the opportunity to help him collect ingredients for potions or find one book in massive libraries or craft things for enchantments and spells but you REFUSE to let him help you study for a class he could pass without even listening to one of the lectures, he silently suffers and hopes you’ll breach the subject on your own.

Which you do. Kinda. He’s trying to convince you to let him help you with paying back the debts of one of Mammon’s schemes he dragged you into - figuring two bodies on the job will get it done faster and, in turn, he can have more time with you later - but he makes the mistake of rationalizing it with, “Well, since you help me out so much, maybe I could-”

“Don’t! Don’t...say that. We don’t owe each other anything.” You give him a tight smile that’s OBVIOUSLY fake. “I help you because I want to.”

“And I want to help you. Why won’t you let me? What’s up?”

The conversation is...uncomfortable. Solomon isn’t the best at handling vulnerability. But he doesn’t judge you for a second, and he gets the fear that you have in the back of your mind. Especially since people keep telling you not to trust him and that he’s shady...this relationship is pretty dependent on a thorough trust between the two of you. But he doesn’t mind proving himself a little more, so long as you’ll be gracious enough to give him a chance.

Simeon

Simeon is really good at vibing out somebody’s boundaries and comforts. Call it angelic intuition, but he also has a feeling about you that makes a little too much sense when he notices how you shy away from any offers of assistance.

A little thinking, and suddenly the way you stretch yourself thing to help the brothers at any moment makes a lot of sense too. (And, of course, he is pleased to know everyone considers everyone to be family. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t two main causes!)

Angels naturally want to ease the strife of the humans they come across, and even though Simeon knows that it might make you uncomfortable, he finds himself unknowingly putting you in awkward positions with how often he reaches out to make your life easier.

Bringing you homework that you missed, being your escort when the brothers are busy, buying you lunch just because - he’s a bit of a sweetheart and it’s in his blood to do these things, and he only remembers how it hurts you when you uncomfortably shift before taking the only option he’s given you - accept what you don’t want.

He sits you down one day, letting you know it’s bound to be a healing conversation between the two of you. Fortunately, he has a knack for making you feel comfortable and safe, so he has a slightly easier time getting you to pen up to him.

The moment you even hint at him having ulterior motives, you feel stupid. Even when he assures you that it’s alright, saying it out in the open feels...wrong. That doesn’t shake the feeling or ease your fears, but it does make addressing things a bit easier.

Simeon has no problem helping to draft a plan for re-affirming your trust in genuine love and kindness. He also inserts himself directly into the plans - what, you thought he wouldn’t? Simeon will remind you what it feels like to be cared for with no expectation of return. don’t get him wrong though, he’ll take a lil kiss or something if u want...

Luke

You can’t say no to him. Unfortunately, he bakes a LOT and he is all too eager to be your personal guard dog guardian angel.

When you do decide to let him know why you look so uncomfortable when he tries to do something for you (giving him an abridged version, of course) - and he, in all his energy, does not seem to get the hint to STOP ASKING - you can see him literally just chill out. One minute he’s vibrating with pure energy and the next he’s just. Still.

He half wants to get indignant on you, but he knows that’s not a good response. Instead he just sort of stands there, watching you for a minute, until he blurts out with zero grace - “What would I even have to do that for??”

He realizes it’s a terrible response the moment it comes out of his mouth, but you seem to be okay with it if your awkward chuckle is anything to go with. Luke starts pouting just a little bit, more upset with himself that he’s completely failing at handling this situation. “I’m just nice to you because you’re nice and you deserve it. There’s nothing else to it.”

He’s a sweet boy, and he doesn’t wanna lose his favorite taste-tester. He’s got the spirit.

[yinses]

meticulously

| you just needed him to do this one thing … then you wouldn’t ask for anything more | sukuna ryomen rating: 18+

a/n: we only accept au sukuna in this nandos. my second longest work to date and its sukuna.

maybe it was because you were tired of hearing it all.

about how you were such a good girl. so ambitious and focused on your studies. they made it seems so honorable that you were willing to put boys on the back burner in order to achieve your goals.

as if you had a choice.

as if you weren’t a timid little thing who incidentally teased the edges of something before falling back the recesses of your comfort zone. how many apps had you applied for only to waste the time of yourself and others. those sites were never meant to find true love- just conveniently hook ups to release pent up stress.

and you had a lot of it.

so maybe that's why you decided that it was okay to have a little more to drink tonight- to wander further from your friends into the wilderness. you could have one day to make a bad decision and face the consequences for it.

clubs were never your thing which was likely another reason why you were in this drought.

it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, as old habits die hard. every so often you were approached with promises of drinks and suggestive conversation. and each one you shied away from and earned a scoff before they already started in pursuit of their next challenge.

it was possible that you were doing it wrong. you lacked the confidence to just ask for what you wanted, mostly because you didn’t know.  play coy, they told you, make them do the work for you.

so you find yourself on the dance floor instead with a new strategy. lost among the masses with the bass thrumming in your veins. here there would be no room for talk.

it only takes one song for you to feel him behind you. he doesn’t whisper sweet things in your ear. instead, his hands start at your hips, just a brush of touch to see how you react. when you don’t move away, he pulls you close and moves your hips in slow circles.

you’re immediately attracted to his confidence. in the way he guides your hand upward, instead of lower, encouraging your hand to grip at the short of his hair. the angle it provides is an open invitation for him to begin placing open mouthed kisses up the length of your neck. when he reaches your ear he pauses, and you hear the dark timber of his voice.

“i saw you turning away all those little boys earlier. what are you looking for, kitten?”

kitten. you shiver at the name.  main characters in novels always turned into a giddy mess over the pet name, losing themselves to the velvety whispered promises and underlying possession. the name brought more of a thrill than anything else; to know that he had been watching you in the distance.

you fight the urge to turn, wanting to stay in the moment for as long as you could. for some reason, like this, you think you could become the person he thinks you are. someone who knows what she wants and doesn’t accept anything less. back at the bar, men asked you too many questions and allowed the opportunity for your insecurities to bleed through.

like this, you only needed to admit one thing.

“i want you.”

its stupid and reckless. he could be a list of anything dangerous yet you advanced him to the top of the list. it was too early to tell but you hope he could be the one. then all of of the little details wouldn’t matter. you were here to lose your first time, not remember it.

you don’t expect him to use the grip on your hips to turn you, the sudden shift and lingering alcohol leaving you disoriented for a moment.

he was tall, though you had judged so from the reach it took to curl your fingers into his nape. the hair you had been blindly acquainted with turned out to be an unusual pale shade of pink. but it worked for him, and the interesting accompaniment of vermillion eyes. you were just starting to account the black lines of dark ink peeking from under his sleeve when his voice drew your attention back to his face.

his grin was telling. he wanted you to take him in because he knew you’d like what you saw. he doesn’t even need to ask. it was too early to tell if he was calling your bluff or enabling it.

he brings his mouth down to hover above yours, lips brushing as he speaks,”so your place or mine?”

this is what you needed, no thoughts beyond what your bodies could offer. this was the man who would take your virginity.

the first sign of hesitance you show is when offering your home. it was close enough to the campus and your neighbors would hear your scream if your ignorance turned out to be your undoing. he agrees, naturally, because why would he turn down a willing lay?

your fingers fumble quickly and shakily as you quickly text your friends that you’re bringing someone back. the answers vary from concern, to disbelief, to excitement and back to apprehension. ultimately, your roommates agree to leave the apartment to you for the night but vow to turn up first thing in the morning.

all the while, his hand is at the small of your back as he guides you towards the entrance. the icy cold air that hits you when you step outside is unkind to the thin sheen of sweat you’d accumulated. the price paid to look good rarely came cheap. the heat radiating from behind you was less of a comfort and more of a reminder as you shift from foot to foot in wait for a taxi.

“ names’ sukuna.”

it came as a jest rather than to inform. the way your eyes widen in realization proving that you’d skimmed over that step unintentionally. the men prior had offered it up without prompting as if it as their key trait in the introductions. while you’d grinded on this man for nearly two songs and hadn’t even thought to ask.

you stumble over your own name and his grin widens further.

he leans close enough for your visible breaths to mingle.

“you’re so fucking cute, kitten. i can’t wait to unwrap you.” 

and then he was kissing you senseless.

he tastes of whiskey and menthol, a savory smokiness that would be a lingering flavor for hours to come. there was a unique sense of excitement that came from kissing a stranger. the anxiousness blurred the lines between your thoughts and emotions. his tongue met yours and swept it into a fast, claiming pace.

just when your hands rose to find purchase on his shirt, the incoming headlights fanned against your joined bodies. sukuna, the apparent level-headed one, pulled away for you.

“don’t worry, we’ll have plenty to explore soon.”

sukuna surprisingly does not encroach on your space in the back of the taxi. his arm rests comfortably along the back of your seat, but his fingers don't chase the easy access to the back of your neck there. it makes you annoyingly anxious as your knee jumps in place. you refrain from looking at him in the corner of your eye already knowing what awaits you on his lips.

the remainder of the drive is short and uneventful.it takes less than ten minutes between the club and the arrival at your front door. you impress yourself with the lack of tremors as you fit your key into the door and welcome you into your home.

the light from the kitchen highlights only what you need to make it to your bedroom without injury. too many had happened before that became habitual prior to any night out.

there is a rattle in your spine as you carefully pull one shoe off than the other. its an action that you take your time with as you gather your thoughts. when you look back at him, he hasn’t wandered a step from the entrance, though his gaze travels where the light allows. at the feel of your gaze he cocks a brow,”i’m waiting on you kitten.”

right.

this was happening.

you’d made it this far.

tilting your head, you lead him to your bedroom without another word. you’re thankful that your widow sits in view of the night sky, taking the place of any artificial light you might have to provide.

every muscle is as stiff as a board as you toss your shoes into a corner. your mouth opens to stupidly point out that this is your room.

sukuna laughs, because why wouldn’t he after learning the mysterious vixen not only had a name but was a timid little thing. still he didn’t cater to your anxiety nor did he allow it to slow his pace.

his arms flex as he reaches behind himself to pull at his shirt from the tag. you’d caught glimpses of his tattoos in the darkness of the club without really looking, but you haven't been able to connect the lines of a pseudo sleeve. the double bands circle both wrists and biceps with encompassing circles swirling around his shoulders. it was a simple yet uniform pattern. you could just see the beginning of another figure curing from behind his neck as well.

“i’m starting to think that i should just be flattered when you get quiet like that.”

his hand makes itself home again at your waist as he walks you backwards until the edge of your bed knocks against the back of your knees. sukuna keeps you from falling back while his fingers go to curl at the hem of your dress.

“it’s only fair,” he says in your ear, as if the removal of his shirt was any kind of equivalence.

he helps you along the way, or maybe makes it worse as he starts to kiss your neck. his hands slide along every new available inch of skin from your thighs to your navel. he shamelessly cups your bra, squeezing the mounds in appreciation.

sukuna pulls away to rid you of the dress entirely. before you can adjust to the loss, he leans back in to unhook your bra as an afterthought.

he grins when you immediately bring your arms over your exposed chest,”don’t be shy. this is what you wanted, right?”

you don’t miss the implied probe behind the tease. it's faint but it’s comforting to know he’s still seeking consent and it eases a bit of your anxiety.

it makes you pliant enough for him to cup the backs of your thighs and lie you back against the sheets. though the moment your bare skin comes in contact with the sheets with his broad form hovering over you, all the brief conviction shrivels up.

your hands curl into the bedding for leverage when his weight is suddenly there to ease you back down. his arms slip around you to anchor you in place, pinning you under the hard warmth of his chest. his lips meet your ear, tongue sliding along the shell,” these mixed signals are going to get old real quick, kitten. “

there is a warning there but you don’t know what exactly it alludes too. how could you when you’d invited a complete stranger into your home.

but sukuna seems to know what to look for, eyes carefully watching the way you shy away from his touch yet draw yourself back on your own. he’s attune to the push and pull, seeming to understand the paradoxical conundrum that you’d drug him into.

you can just barely catch the cut of his smile in the darkness,”are you a virgin, kitten?” he asks, voice light and cool.

the way his body is keeping you in place makes it impossible for you to curl in on yourself, your embarrassment left on display.

“oh baby, if you let me, i’ll take good care of you.”

and how could you not agree to that?

he swallows your affirmation, tongue pushing into your mouth and making you groan.

“ ‘m gonna make you feel so good.”

his hands slide between the apex of your thighs to cup you, digits gliding along your covered slit. two fingers from his other hand press against the aperture of your mouth with the single command to suck.

you only hesitate briefly, tongue flicking out to taste the salt from his fingers. his impatience grows in the moment, idly feeding you a few inches until your lips hollow to stop him before he can reach the back of your throat. it feels more like a sloppy mess than anything remotely sexy as you drool around him, sucking harder to contain the wetness.

but sukuna seems to eat up the attention, idly thrusting in and out when he can. “you’re such a good learner,” he praises with hoarseness.

a garbled squeak manages to leave you as the elastic of your panties is pulled from your hips. you can feel the stick trail connecting you to the fabric, but seeing it is a whole new wave of mortification.

sukuna is able to tug them down to your ankles before your legs can lock up. “don’t be shy. i love filthy girls like you.“ your nerves jump to attention when he presses his thumb against your throbbing clit. “i can work with this.”

you gasp, lips losing their grip on his fingers, as you press your head back against the pillow. heat rises in the low of your stomach, a sensation that you’d never been able to achieve on your own. he starts with a single digit, easily making its way through your passage with the slick provided. his fingers crook in search of an ideal angle, making a sound of encouraging praise when you keen and rock your hips down for more.

your lashes flutter with the effort of keeping them open as he manipulates friction against your sex.without warning, he adds a second finger in alongside the first,”kitten you have no idea how happy i am that you grinded back against me on that dance floor.” the introduction allows for a scissoring action as he tests the stretch of your walls.

you’re happy to have the flat to yourself as the next whimper shatters your coherency, snapping any restraint that you had on your volume. sukuna chuckles at your cry, flexing his touch to reach new depths.

“i really wanted to see what you could do with your mouth but i don’t think i can wait.”

he gives one last swipe against the tackly mess before he fumbles with his belt. you don’t get offended when he only drops his pants far enough to free his cock. its distracting enough watching him stroke himself idly to fullness. sukuna harbors no shame as he cants his hips, fucking into the tight circle of his fist.

he pulls his wet fingers from your lips and you swallow around the absence.

you’re immediately grateful when he pulls out a condom, uncaring when the empty foil packet gets lost on your floor.

sukuna can feel the tightness as he palms your hip and positions himself at the stretch of your entrance.

“don’t go getting all nervous on me. i went through such a great deal to prepare you for this.”

his hand slides past your naval to grip your breast, rolling the hardening peak with his thumb. the lack of attention they’d received thus far acts as enticing interference.

he still doesn’t go for the unanticipated approach, keeping you vaguely aware by running the head of his cock up and down your dripping cunt.

it’s still easier said than done as all the reddit and gossip forums come reeling back the the forefront. you hadn’t even thought to get a towel, what if there was a lot of blood- too much? should you have gotten painkillers ?

above you sukuna tsks and you jolt from the sharp pain of him cruelly pinching your nipple. when you go to protest, he merely gives you a look, holding your gaze while his head drops take the abused bud into his mouth.

when he gives a particularly hard suck you know what’s coming as his hips roll up against you.

he’s big. of course he’s big given that he’s your first and all that you’ve had prior to your own fingers are his. sukuna expresses a show of kindness that you weren’t expecting with the initial push, as he uses his grip to ease himself in slowly.

it still burns; the uncomfortable stretch as he drags the friction of his cock past the slick barrier. but its not thee sharp punch you were expecting even before the base meets your pelvis. your hand darts up to smack against the hard flat of his stomach to stop him there but the centimeters separating you were barely negligible.

his mouth pops off of your breast with a wet sound as you pant, squeezing experimentally around the width of him. it was more manageable than you were anticipating, and you adjust your hips in another trial. the movement pulls a sharp hiss from his lips and his fingers clamp down tighter at the curve of your waist.

his vermillion eyes are no longer slits of concentration, now blown wide to contain the depth of lust simmering there. there is a shudder a he holds himself back from fucking into you. “if you’re done playing, i’d like to fuck you now.”

instinct drives you to reach around him, nails gripping traction around his shoulder blades as he grates his hips. the motion starts the first thrusts of many as sukuna introduces you to the truest definition of fucking.

its gradual, the way he picks up speed, introducing each part of you to himself before overpowering the nerves with a firmer touch.you should be embarrassed by the broken sounds leaving your mouth, but you can hardly remember your own name let alone decency.

sukuna on the other hand, relishes in the way he fucks you stupid, taking each bite of your nail and shattered speech with pride. “you have the prettiest fucking mouth for a virgin.”

it was impossible to accept the praise with the way he was knocking the sense from you with each thrust. he made it feel so good. all of it. from the inclination to the way he filled you up.

he continues to slam inside, breathing barely affected by the effort of pulling you apart at the seams. god he just doesn’t shut up. and you don’t want him too. they way he can make you hang from each word. 

you don’t know how he can handle words with all the smugness oozing from is lips, “i know you wouldn’t know the difference. but they’re typically so quiet- biting their lip and shit as if they’d scare away their own orgasm.”

“but not you baby. you fucking speak to me.” its not the kind of praise you were expecting but you latch on to it anyway. his arm comes around your waist and brings you forward to pin against his frame.

you don't know what possesses you to do so, mayve its the new proximity,  but your hands cup his face and bring his lips to meet yours. sukuna doesn't fight the action but his attention is elsewhere as your head bobs with the effort of keeping your mouths attached. ultimately it's the sharpness of your teeth against his bottom lip that prompts him to participate.

his tongue shoves past your lips to twist with yours. then he angles his hips just so and you sob. its an epiphany for you but its exactly what sukuna was looking for as he aims there again, and again, abusing that little patch of tissue that makes you witness nirvana.

sukuna drops a hand between your bodies to pass a thumb over your clit. he smirks when you jolt, still managing a perfect enunciation of your name even as his hips lose rhythm.

“all i need you to do tonight is come. can you do that for me, kitten?”

and you can, even without his instruction as your legs come up to squeeze around him despite the tremors. hot pleasure radiates up your spine from the source, washing over you in waves as you spill around him. it feels incredible to finally be able to let go. fuck, you don’t know if anything else will be like this first time. but you’re damn sure not going to forget it anytime soon.

even as your body falls pliant, sukuna keeps the pace as he chases his own release. the beginnings of bruises protest at your hips as he pounds a fragment tempo until he stills. the groan he lets out nearly brings you to a second orgasm as the sound shakes your body.

you’re thankful that he has enough energy to unhinge your legs from his hips, laughing to himself at the little trembles they give off. the act of him leaving you is a strange sensation to describe. despite the beating it took, your cunt still tries to hold him in.

it naturally earns you a crass comment as he uses the edge of your comforter to wipe himself down,”kitten, i don’t think you could handle another round of me.” you don't want to think about where he tossed the condom, just hoping that it was within the vicinity of the trashcan. but that was something future you would have to worry about.

you don’t offer him a place to stay and he doesn’t give you the opportunity to do so.

present you was starting to learn a new type of soreness as you gathered your legs against your chest and bring the blankets around your body. there wasn’t much of a delay as sukuna got dressed, tracing back his steps easily to his discarded shirt and tucking himself away long the way.

when he looks back at you, you must look like a child snuggled away for the night.

his looks at you with silent consideration. it was finally time to conduct the awkward ‘thank yous’ before the two of you parted ways forever. but at least it wasn’t you taking the walk of shame. though you don’t think it will be sukuna either with the swagger still linger in his step. 

it’s the blatant admission that you weren’t expecting, “ i like you. so i’ll leave my number for another time.”

that is not how a one night stand should end.

sukuna assumes you can’t handle the basic technological skill of adding his contact to your phone and proceeds to write it instead on the planner board posted by the door. it’s written so big you can just make out the numbers from the bed.

“be sure to call when you think you can handle me at my best.”

you wait, listening for the front door to click shut in his departure before you fall back against your bed. you should really be changing the sheets but you cant bring yourself to do more than roll onto your side.

you did it.

finally experienced all the gossip and jazz everyone talked out. 

and now you could focus and get back on track.

without prompt, your gaze drifted over to the dry erase board. sukuna had completely disregarded the individual squares dedicated to different days and messily scrawled his information between two weeks. it was a direct representation of the chaotic energy he gave off.

you would just clean it up in the morning along with any other remnants of this night.

...

or perhaps you could save as a sort of emergency contact.

you’d just discovered a new source of therapy after all. 

[chudleycanonficfest]

Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: T

TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.

************

Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.

It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.

It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.

So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.

And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.

But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.

As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.

The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.

I’m not scared to tell the truth. 

I went to hell and back and I went with you

Remind me what we were before,

When you said you are mine, and I am yours

Hermione,

There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other. 

When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.

I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity. 

I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.

I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.

I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.

Ron

Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.

After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being. 

Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.

“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.

Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.

For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.

Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.

I don’t know much, but I know myself

And I don’t want to love anybody else

So let’s break the spell and lift the curse

Remember when we fell for each other head first

There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months. 

What have I done?

None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do. 

Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.

Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.

Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.

“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”

Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.

“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”

Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.

“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.

Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.

"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...” 

Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.

“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.” 

Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.

“Wh-what happened?” 

The words are spoken with great effort.

“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”

Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.

“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”

Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.

“Why are you here?”

It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.

The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply. 

“Ms. Granger—”

“Hermione.”

“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were. 

“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”

Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.

“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.” 

Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”

“Of course.”

Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.

Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.

When. It has to be when.

As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.

“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.

Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed. 

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side. 

Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.

When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.

I can’t find you in the dark

Will we get back to who we are?

And I can’t fix this on my own

Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known

She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open. 

“Er-my-nee.” 

His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.

“You came,” he whispers.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.

His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”

“Only if you give me a reason not to.”

Let the broken pieces go

Just hold on to each other tonight

“I will, I promise.”

She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go. 

Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.

[ketamineharry]

The Family We Choose - Harry Lewis

Requested: Yes ~ Hi Nikki, hope you are well! I was just wondering if you could write an imagine where the reader doesn't want biological kids (if you are comfortable writing about it) and Harry finds out either through a discussion or a sidemen video or really however. The ending would be completely up to you and how you see fit. I just adore your writing, especially about Harry. Thank you x

Four years had passed since your miscarriage, everything seemed to have fallen into place. You had graduated with a first degree in psychology and had applied to do a masters in counselling. Harry had flourished in his YouTube career, his sub count reaching a number that he could have only had dreamed of, four years ago. Your relationship went from strength to strength. However, despite all of that, it was clear that Harry wanted to be a dad. As much as you loved Harry, you couldn’t bring yourself to try for another child any time soon. The trauma you had been healing from, was still too fresh for you to risk opening up that wound again.

No matter how hard you tried though, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Even with all the therapy sessions that you attended, mixed with the fact that Harry insisted that the miscarriage wasn’t your fault — you couldn’t help but blame yourself. It was your default, considering it was your body that had failed with carrying the baby to full term. Yet, with each passing day Harry tried to hint more at the fact that he wanted to try starting a family again.

It all got too much, when he had purchased a baby grow, wrapped it and placed it in a gift bag. Leaving it on the kitchen counter for you to find. Which left you no choice but to nip it in the bud. As much as you hated the thought of disappointing Harry, you couldn’t let this go on. The more that he hinted, the worse that you felt. Which just perpetuated a nasty cycle of guilt.

Baby grow in hand, you went to find Harry. Who, was more than likely in your shared bedroom streaming. The nerves and knots in your stomach multiplied tenfold as you made your way up the stairs. A prominent lump in your throat formed, just at the thought of disappointing him. You waited for Harry to end his stream, before entering the bedroom.

You sat down on the bed, opposite Harry. As you passed him the gift bag, you made direct eye-contact for the first time. A sigh escaped your lips, as you placed one hand in the other, trying to comfort yourself.

“I’m not ready to try for another baby yet, Harry.” You told him, breaking the silence that had been comforting you for a few brief moments. He simply nodded, you could see he was mulling over the information you had just provided him with.

“I understand. But, I was thinking, because I know how much you want to be a mum too… whether adoption would be an option for us? It wouldn’t have to be a baby, there’s so many children out there that need loving homes. Despite the little donny not being ours biologically, we’d still be their mum and dad.”

“I can’t promise anything… but I’m willing to go through the process. We might find the right child for us, we might not.”

—

A long six months had passed since Harry and yourself had applied to be prospective adoptive parents. You had gone through various tests, had to provide recommendations, and had to undergo a DBS check. You were just hoping that you would find the child that you wanted to adopt as your own after how rigorous the background tests and paperwork was.

It was a wet Tuesday afternoon when the phone rang. You decided to answer, as Harry was far too nervous. He sat right next to you though, trying to gage what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. He took your hand in his, rubbing circles into your thumb; an attempt at trying to calm himself down as well as trying to get you through the phone call too.

“Hi, is this Miss Y/L/N and Mr Lewis?” The feminine voice on the other side asked. You confirmed that it was you, as you nervously anticipated what she was about to say.

“I’m pleased to inform you that you’ve been accepted to adopt. We have also found a child that we would like you to come and meet tomorrow. It’s a little girl, she doesn’t have any health issues and she is three years of age.”

You agreed to go and meet your prospective child, the excitement finally hitting you. Although you weren’t going to be this child’s biological mother, you were sure you could be able to love her as if she was your biological daughter, and that’s all that mattered really.

You turned to Harry and told him, as you both jumped up and hugged each other. Being able to bask in your excitement for a few moments.

“I always wanted a little girl, and I guess we don’t need to go through the many sleepless nights.” He beamed.

—

The next day, you were woken up by Harry. As you rolled over, checking the alarm clock next to you it was nine in the morning. Harry being out of bed before you, meant that he was beyond excited. He loved his sleep more than anything.

You both got dressed and made your way to the adoption agency. A mixture of nervousness and excitement filled the car journey. Neither of you knowing what to say, but enjoying it nonetheless.

As you walked in hand in hand, the confirmation that you were doing the right thing by yourselves set in. The children’s finger paintings that hung on the walls, was something that you were missing in your house. It was going to be chaotic, but living with Harry already provided that. It wasn’t going to be out of the norm.

A social worker, the one who you had assumed had phoned you escorted you into the office. She went over some of the essentials, things you needed to know about the process, things you were and weren’t allowed to say in order to not only protect yourself, but the child too. After the brief meeting, you were told that she was going to go and get the little girl, and told you to sit there.

A few moments later, the social worker emerged again, this time with a little girl in tow. A brown teddy girl hung limply from the girls other hand, as she hid behind the social worker. Obviously a little bit timid.

Harry got up from his chair, and walked around to her, bending down on his knees before offering her a handshake. “Hi little lady, my name’s Harry. What’s yours?”

“My name’s Olivia.” She responded, her voice small. Still unsure.

You got up from your chair, following Harry’s example and bending down on your knees too.

“I’m Y/N.” You said, introducing yourself. “That teddy bear is really cute. I used to have one, just like him called Mr. Snuggles.” You continued, giving the girl a small smile.

“Did you have to rescue him from the hundred acre wood too?” Olivia asked, intrigued.

“Oh, I had to fight off the fiercest lions and snakes for him.” You responded, playfully. Which caused Olivia to giggle.

“So, Olivia… we were wondering if you’d like to come out on a picnic to the park with us?” Harry asked her. “We can make sure that teddy comes along too, we promise that we’ll fight off any lions and snakes that threaten him.”

“As long as you push me really high on the swings.”

Harry nodded, assuring her they had a deal. Olivia took your hand as you led her to the car, and strapped her into the children’s car seat that you had purchased the night before.

Harry drove you the short distance to the local park. She took Harry’s hand this time, still clinging onto her teddy bear. Which you presumed provided her with a sense of security that she craved.

As soon as she entered the playground, she made a beeline for the swings. Harry, having to hit a slow jog to be able to keep up with her. He fulfilled his promise of pushing her as high as he could, whilst not going too high for fear of scaring her. As you looked on and watched, you knew that Olivia was the little person that was going to make your family whole. She fit perfectly. She was the family that you had chosen.

[here4theheartbreak]

Sweet Cream Nights (jjk + ksj + myg)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Seokjin x Yoongi Genre: smut, fluff Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~8.4k

Tags: smut, fluff, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, bakery au, coffee shop au, arcade au, getting together, polyamory, food play, oral sex, come eating, dirty talk, humping

Summary: The local video game arcade owner is in love with the local barista who is also in love with the local baker. What could go wrong?

A/N: Third Kinktober fic, day 5: foodplay

Friendly competition was healthy, normal, and expected from successful business owners with shops near to one another. It only made sense that the two best coffee shops on the same street would have a friendly rivalry, or that the local bakery would compete with the nearby diner serving fresh cakes. What wasn’t normal, and not expected, was the local bakery in such a cutthroat competition with the local arcade.

It wasn’t even really about the products, of course. Individuals routinely purchased snacks or lunch from Seokjin, the owner and baker at History in the Baking – the best bakery in town by any local’s standards, then stopped in two doors down to play a few video games, often with Jungkook, the owner of the Golden Closet; a newer, but booming arcade. There was no loss in business and nothing forcing the rivalry.

Nothing, that was, except Deja Brew, the small café and coffee shop nestled directly between the two businesses. Really, it was because of the owner of the shop, one Min Yoongi. 

Yoongi was everyone’s favorite. He liked to put on a grumpy front, often standing out in front of his rather adorable little shop as it opened at 6:37am sharp (he said, because 6:30 is too damn early, and what person wants coffee as late as 7:00am, really?) But it wasn’t real. No, the short, sweet faced grump was really as gentle as could be. He gave the bleary-eyed children of busy moms small sweets and volunteered with local charities. He often worked with Seokjin to make sure no product went to waste; every few days he and Jin would gather up near expiry products – Jin’s baked goods and breads and coffee beans that hadn’t sold, and Yoongi would drive them over to the nearby homeless shelter for breakfasts for the needy. 

This was where Jin first realized that he’d fallen truly head over heels for the barista. The only problem he had was that he wasn’t sure if Yoongi liked him back, or if he was even into men. And the idea of ruining the both friendship and business cooperation they had was more terrifying than keeping silent. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, knew almost immediately that he wanted to ask Yoongi on a date. The first week he’d moved into the empty space next to Yoongi’s shop, he’d wandered in, exhausted from an all nighter getting things up and running and just needing a quick pick me up. He’d expected something like a fancy Starbucks – in and out and perhaps a misspelled name on the cup to boot. What he’d gotten instead was a very concerned Yoongi herding him to a booth and a warm breakfast; the most delicious oatmeal he’d ever tasted, along with a rich, sweet coffee that made his toes curl and his heart skip. Though, maybe the heart skipping was more Yoongi’s doing than the coffee. Yes, Jungkook knew he’d been swept off his feet. His problem however was that despite being told he was handsome and being quite boisterous and loud in regards to his friends… Once someone he fancied came near, he clammed up; closing himself off and barely speaking more than a few words to the person. Which was what happened with Yoongi.

And Yoongi – for all his attention paid to customers, bills, and the local news – had no idea that he was being courted after by his two neighbors. When their rivalry picked up, Jungkook had blocked Jin’s back door for nearly three hours with a large truck first off; then Jin had had a whole pallet of flour ‘misdelivered’ to Jungkook’s door – he assumed they were old friends, or old enemies. Perhaps exes that were out to get one another. It wasn’t his problem, and he had no care about how they handled their rivalry – just as long as he wasn’t dragged into it. 

Seven months, it went on. Seven entire months of petty pranks and murmured name-calling and generally annoyed glares between Jungkook and Jin. And then it happened.

Jungkook was early in to the arcade. It was nearly 6:15, but the sun was shining and he was feeling particularly good. He’d spent the evening out with an old friend who had encouraged him to ask Yoongi out before someone (Jin) did. 

He walked past Jin’s shop, glancing in. He could see a few lights on in the back; Jin was always in early, working on his day to day treats. Despite his annoyance with Jin, he had to admit, the man was an excellent baker. And what was more, he was frankly stunning. Tall and broad, slender, with the face of a God – if Jungkook wasn’t so taken with Yoongi he may have gone after Jin. His custom pastries and cakes were stunning and elaborate, and his simple day to day cookies and pastries were always a hit. Rivalry or not, Jungkook knew good sweets, and that man’s were to die for. 

He passed the bakery without lingering too long and glanced into the front window of the café. Much to his surprise, the main lights were on; Yoongi normally kept them off until opening time. He looked a little closer, and his stomach did a tight little flip. Yoongi was sitting at one of the tables, sipping coffee… With Seokjin. 

They were laughing, and Jin reached over, brushing the tips of his fingers over Yoongi’s cheek. Jungkook saw red. It wasn’t fair. He reached up, ready to tap on the glass, draw Yoongi’s attention, anything. He froze though. What right did he have? He hadn’t made his move on Yoongi fast enough – that was on him. He sighed softly and shook his head, hurrying past the café before one of them caught him peering in like a pervert. 

Jungkook tried to ignore the ache he felt as he worked, but every time his mind drifted, it went to what he saw that morning. Was it what he had assumed? Were they just friends? He had to find out. He slipped out under the guise of an early lunch break, entering Deja Brew. 

Yoongi was behind the counter, looking stunning as always. He looked up and grinned. “Afternoon, Kook. What can I get you?”

“Whatever you think is good,” Jungkook said, settling in one of the tables. “You know I trust your opinion here.”

“Coming up.” 

The shop was empty; Jungkook knew it wouldn’t start getting busy again until about noon. It was nice; he could watch Yoongi working without others wondering what was wrong with him. Yoongi circled around to the table with a tray, setting a sandwich in front of Jungkook along with a coffee. 

“Mind if I join you? Grab my own lunch before the real lunch rush.”

“Of course not,” Jungkook grinned, trying not to sound too excited at the prospect. 

Yoongi set a similar meal down on the other side and hurried the tray back to the counter before sliding in across from Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a bite, groaning happily. “This is amazing.”

“Apple sausage with fresh veggies. I managed to get some really great products at the farmer’s market this weekend, and Jin gave me a deal on the bread. Nobody does these little sandwich loaves like he does.”

The smile slid from Jungkook’s face. He tried to replace it, ignoring the twist in his gut. Well, this was what he came for; might as well rip the bandage off. “You and Jin are pretty close, huh?”

“I think so,” Yoongi said casually, taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“How long have you two been…” He drifted off. Yoongi’s brows furrowed for a moment. He swallowed the bite in his mouth.

“Been friends? About a year. We met a few months before you joined our little shop front.”

“No… Dating,” Jungkook clarified.

Yoongi coughed, laughing after taking a swig of coffee. “Dating? No, no. Jin and I aren’t dating. I’d love to but… He’s not into me that way.”

“Are you kidding? He’s obsessed with you,” Jungkook said without thinking, wanting immediately to kick himself. “I saw you two this morning when I was walking to my arcade. I figured… You know… It was a date.”

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it, but no… We were just having breakfast.” He hesitated. “Do you really think he likes me?”

Jungkook snorted. “He adores you. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re funny and smart and one of the most caring guys in this town. Plus you make amazing coffee, you’re independent. And you’re handsome as hell and I—” He froze, realizing Yoongi was staring at him, eyes wide. 

“I—I just mean you two are a good match,” he mumbled. 

“I appreciate the plethora of compliments, but no we aren’t.” Yoongi chuckled. “Jin’s damn near a model.”

“He really is. I’ve never seen someone with such broad shoulders that doesn’t look weird. And his smile…” Jungkook shook his head, smiling a little. “He’s stunning. But you are too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll ask him out. But… I don’t think he’d be into my lifestyle.”

Jungkook’s brows raised. He twitched his head to the side, mouth pursing. When Yoongi didn’t continue, he nudged him with his foot under the table.

“Lifestyle?”

“It’s… Very hard to explain.”

“If it’s not comfortable, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s not that. I am comfortable with it. I just wish others were,” Yoongi mumbled.

“It sounds intriguing… I’ll listen without judging, you know me.”

Yoongi smiled softly. “You do have a knack for that, don’t you?” He sighed. “I’m not… Comfortable in traditional relationships. I never have been.”

“Like sexually?”

“Oh no, no. I’ve always been very sexual being. No, I mean traditional monogamy. I believe in faithfulness and I abhor cheaters… But for me the traditional two-person relationship is dull and unfulfilling. It’s like… I feel like I have so much love to give and no matter how much I give to the other person there’s this space missing.” He sighed again. “It’s very hard to explain to folks.”

“You feel like the true way to be happy in a relationship is to have more than one partner?” Jungkook clarified. 

“For me, yes. I’m not disparaging traditional relationships, I just… When I date someone, I feel like there’s still this gap there, waiting to be filled by a third party. And it doesn’t matter to me whether that third is dating my first partner, or if they’re just dating me, or even if they’re dating someone else that I’m not dating, I’m okay with any combination, I just… I need to have more than what traditional monogamy can give me.”

“I get it,” Jungkook said, nodding. He sipped his coffee as he thought, processing the information. “I don’t see anything wrong with what you feel. You still love and believe in being faithful; I’m guessing seeking a third partner, or a fourth or however many would be something that you’d discuss with your partner originally.”

“Oh of course, but therein lies the problem. The majority of people don’t understand this mindset. They hear something about wanting another partner and insecurity crops up. Are they not good enough, do they not satisfy, am I falling out of love with them and there’s really no way to explain to a person who sees things in the traditional way.”

Jungkook nodded. He scowled at the remnants of his sandwich in thought, trying to put himself in Yoongi’s shoes, or in the shoes of someone Yoongi might be dating. 

“It’s gonna catch fire if you laser focus any more on that bread,” Yoongi joked, his voice a little tense. Jungkook looked up. “Oh, sorry.” He laughed. Yoongi looked as tense as he sounded, and Jungkook wondered if he was waiting for a sort of negativity about what he’d just confessed.

“I was thinking about the type of relationship you described.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, trying to put myself in that place – the mind of someone you might be dating who you told this to.”

“What’s the verdict? Would you dump me?” Yoongi laughed as he spoke, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jungkook shook his head no.

“When I think about it, I don’t deny my initial thought would be to ask if you were happy – I feel like that’s everyone’s gut response. We were raised in a monogamy preferred society, so it’s just… Natural to think that way. Not right, of course… We were also raised in a heterosexual society and I think it’s pretty clear that’s bullshit.” 

Yoongi and Jungkook both chuckled at that. Jungkook continued.

“But I think if you explained that you were, and how you just told me about it, I think I’d get it. I would want to be with you in the process though. I don’t think I’d be comfortable with my partner seeking out another person without me. That would feel too much like hiding or cheating. But I think if we went together and met folks, or even had a person in mind that you wanted to ask, I’d want to like them too. Maybe not as much as I liked you, but some sort of friendship or agreement that you’d be good together, if that makes sense.”

Yoongi was silent for a long time after Jungkook spoke. He couldn’t figure out his expression. There were subtle shifts in it, and sometimes Yoongi looked close to tears, other times happy, and blank. Jungkook wanted to ask what he was thinking, or if he’d said something wrong, but didn’t want to push Yoongi into answering if he was still processing. 

So he went back to eating, finishing the last of his sandwich and sipping the sweet coffee while he waited. He looked outside, watching the traffic pass through the window. Some familiar faces passed by, likely heading into his arcade next door. He should head back at some point soon, he’d left Taehyung in charge, which was fine in the short term, but Taehyung had a way of getting too up in his head or too hyperfocused on one thing – so it was best to have a second person there to bring him back to reality. 

Jungkook was just about to clear his throat and call it a meeting when Yoongi looked up suddenly, meeting his gaze.

“Jungkook…”

“What?” Jungkook laughed a little, the intensity of Yoongi’s gaze startling. Not to mention, arousing; he’d never been looked at like that before. At least… Not by anyone he liked back.

“I’m in my late twenties,” Yoongi began, finally breaking the gaze to gather their plates. “And I’ve known this about myself since I was very young… Thirteen, fourteen maybe?” He rose, holding the plates and his empty cup. “In all that time I’ve never had someone respond how you just did. Taking the time to process and try to understand and… Get it. Maybe not think the same way as me but… Be able to offer me an answer that wasn’t going to break my heart. That would let me and them be happy.”

“I—”

Yoongi shook his head, his mouth curling up into a bright, gummy smile. “You asked about Jin because you’re jealous, didn’t you?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. He lowered his gaze, nodding softly. “That’s weird, huh?” He mumbled.

“I think it’s cute.” Yoongi leaned down, his breath warm on Jungkook’s ear. “And I think you’re cute Jeon Jungkook.” He shifted, pressing a quick kiss to Jungkook’s cheek before standing upright.

Jungkook’s head snapped up when Yoongi rose. “What?”

Yoongi smirked. “I don’t mince my words. You heard me.” Yoongi glanced at the door, nodding to a customer approaching that he must have recognized. “My lunch rush is about to start,” Yoongi said as the bell dinged, signaling the customer’s entrance. “Come by when I close. I want to talk to you more.”

Jungkook grinned brightly, his nose crinkling up. He rose quickly and nodded even as Yoongi walked away. “I will,” he said, not wanting to turn his back as he watched Yoongi walk behind the counter. “I’ll see you—” He winced when his hip bumped the corner of a table hard enough to sting. He moved out of the way, nearly running into the customer. 

“Sorry!” He cried, bowing low. He glanced up, his cheeks warm as he spotted Yoongi watching him, an amused smirk on his face. 

Jungkook made it out of the café and over to his arcade without any further accidents. His mind was whirring over what had just happened. Yoongi had said he was cute. Yoongi had kissed his cheek. And asked him to come over. Was this happening? Was he going to win the guy? 

The other information Yoongi provided him also crept back in. Now that Yoongi dating him might be reality, rather than theory, would Jungkook really be okay with sharing him with another partner? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he would. The idea of sharing Yoongi with someone else was intriguing. He wondered how date nights might look, if Yoongi would call them both boyfriends – if the other partner would even be a boy. What if he fell for that one too? It was something he’d never considered before; being in love with two men at the same time, but it was something that he was very interested in exploring. What was Yoongi’s type too? Would it be someone else similar to Jungkook? Or totally opposite? His mind wandered through all the possibilities, making the day pass easily. 

Shortly before closing time, the front door opened. Jungkook glanced up from where he was sanitizing one of the game systems. His brows rose, disappearing into his shaggy hair when he saw none other than Jin standing in his doorway. 

“Good afternoon,” he said politely, bowing. “You looking for something specific? We have some open computers at the internet bar, and some other game systems. I just cleaned this one, so—”

“I’m looking for you,” Jin said bluntly. His jaw was set, giving him a stern look, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. “Can we chat?”

“Of course.” Jungkook nodded, heading behind the small counter that housed a few mini fridges worth of snacks and books filled with codes and game information. He tucked the sanitizing supplies on the bottom shelf and waved Taehyung over. “Keep an eye on the front for me, okay?”

Taehyung glanced at Jin before nodding to Jungkook. Jungkook motioned for Jin to follow him, unlocking a nondescript door that led into an “office” – really it was a gutted storage closet, but it worked to keep the fancy and important stuff out of sight of customers… And for private meetings. Jungkook leaned on the small desk. 

“What do you need to talk about?”

“When did you start dating Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked. “Who said I was dating him?”

“I saw you two this afternoon. He kissed you.”

“He kissed my cheek,” Jungkook corrected. “And you’re a snoop.”

“The shop’s windows aren’t exactly hidden away. I was walking past and saw.”

Jungkook nodded. He sighed and went around, slumping into the folding chair he’d set up to sit in while dealing with bills and other business things. “Well, we aren’t dating. I assumed he was dating you… I saw you two awful cozy this morning.”

“Oh, now who’s the snoop?” Jin grumbled, leaning on the door. 

The two remained silent for a long time, staring each other down across the small space. Jungkook couldn’t help but notice how the fabric of Jin’s shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. Though it was a well fitted, button up shirt, it still seemed tight with his body. His belt was cinched around his waist, making his slender hips all the more obvious as well. Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hold onto those slender hips, or wrap his arms around the broad shoulder span. And the more he looked, the more he noticed Jin’s mouth and neck. The curve of his throat, ridged with muscle, his full, pink lips that looked just a little chapped – but still oh so soft. The gentle curve of his nose and the smooth, shiny glow to his skin. Despite working in a bakery all day, not a hair was out of place, bangs parted just so to show a broad, smooth forehead that was begging to be kissed.

It was Jungkook who broke first, laughing in the silent room. He shook his head. “This is so stupid,” he said through bursts of laughter. Jin tried to remain stoic but broke as well, laughing along with Jungkook. 

When their laughter faded, Jungkook shook his head, wiping his cheeks. “Look, I do like Yoongi. That’s no secret. And yeah, he did kiss my cheek – he was flirting. So, if you like him… I encourage you to tell him.”

“You just said he likes you.”

“And he likes you too. He told me today.” Jungkook hesitated. He didn’t want to say too much about what Yoongi told him; it wasn’t his place to tell. “You should talk to him. His answer might surprise you. But either way – we’ve been fighting over him for months, when in reality this is his choice. He deserves to know the truth so he can make that choice.”

Jin’s shoulders sagged just a little. He nodded. “I know you’re right. But I don’t want to make it harder for him if he has decided to date you.”

“I know you don’t, but you won’t know what he decides until you tell him. He’s a big boy – I’m sure he can handle it.”

Jin chuckled. “True… Thanks, Jungkook.” He turned to go, then turned back. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick these past few months.”

Jungkook grinned. “I’m not. It’s been fun. I’ve kinda enjoyed our pranking.”

“Is that so?” Jin smirked. “Well, maybe I won’t stop then.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Jin turned and walked out, leaving Jungkook to wrestle with far more internal questions than he had answers for. 

That night, Jungkook headed over to Deja Brew as soon as he closed things up. The lights were mostly off, save for a few near the back and behind the counter. Assuming it was locked, Jungkook knocked gently. He saw movement from the back, and Yoongi came rushing out. Even in the fading sunlight, Jungkook could see he looked a little flushed and surprised. He opened the door, smiling brightly. “You came.”

“Of course I did… You okay?” Jungkook could see his cheeks were mottled and his hair was a little mussed.

“Yes. But… I have to tell you something.”

Jungkook stepped into the café, letting Yoongi close and lock the door behind him. He shouldered his bag a little higher onto his shoulder. “What do you have to tell me?”

“There’s been… A bit of a development. That I didn’t expect… When I told you to come by.”

“Oh?”

“Evening, Jungkook.” The voice came from the back room, where Yoongi had rushed from. Jungkook looked over Yoongi’s shoulder, his eyes widening. Jin was leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing the same shirt as he had been when he met Jungkook, but now it was hanging open save for two bottom buttons, his firm, broad chest exposed. It was damp with sweat and flushed red, as was Jin’s face and ears. His hair was a little mussed and his mouth – if anyone could believe it – was just a little plumper. 

“Oh!” Jungkook backed up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Don’t go,” Yoongi whispered. 

“But you and Jin—”

“He came over,” Yoongi nodded. “But I want to talk to you still. I don’t want you to go, please.”

Jungkook nodded. He met Jin’s gaze, a little surprised to see a gentleness there. He’d won – he expected Jin to look smug. He followed Yoongi back into the back room, and Jin followed as well, leaning against a nearby wall.

“Jin came over earlier,” Yoongi began. “He said you encouraged him to.”

“I did. He came to me and I said it was only fair to you. To tell you how he felt and let you choose. I guess he did and… You did.”

“How do you mean?” Yoongi asked. 

“Well, you two…” Jungkook motioned to Jin’s open shirt. 

“Oh, yeah. We did. I mean, we are… But… I told you earlier today. How I felt,” Yoongi said. “You said… A lot. About how you’d feel about it. Was that true?”

“About the… More than one person thing?”

Yoongi nodded.

“Yeah, I meant it all. I wouldn’t mind. If I knew you cared and were happy, I’d try.”

“Well I told Jin too.”

“And I said the same thing,” Jin added. 

Jungkook smiled softly. “I’m glad. It’s good to find similarly minded people.”

“Jungkook,” Jin stepped forward. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t you?”

Jungkook pouted. “No,” he mumbled. “I was just trying to be fair, I didn’t—”

“Jungkook, you and me and Yoongi all say the same thing. We’d be happy to try a relationship with more than one person.”

“Yeah, I got that…” Jungkook said, glancing between the two. 

“Right… And we both like Yoongi,” Jin continued. “And… Considering the way you were eye fucking me in the office earlier…”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. He opened his mouth to argue, but Jin shook his head. “I know when someone is giving me that look. I would’ve told you to stop if I didn’t like it.”

“You…”

“Think you’re kinda… Annoying.” Jin laughed at Jungkook’s expression. “And really attractive. Plus you’re competitive and stubborn and loyal…”

“You didn’t lose anything, Jungkook,” Yoongi said. “If you don’t want to lose, that is. If you want… You can both have me.”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. Comically, if the laughter of Yoongi and Jin meant anything. “You mean—I—I could be with you both?” Jungkook stumbled over his words, wanting to kick himself.

Yoongi nodded. “Why should I choose between you when you both want me and I… Want both of you. And since you’re both okay with sharing me, then… It only seems fair to do so.”

“I was simply getting started a little early,” Jin teased, pulling Yoongi back to him. He kissed him hard.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what to do. He’d just been given the okay – he could date Yoongi – and Jin. He stepped forward, setting his backpack on the ground. Cautiously, he reached out, touching Yoongi’s wrist. 

Jin broke the kiss. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, nuzzling Yoongi’s neck even as he looked up at Jungkook. 

Jungkook took a deep breath. He stepped forward, pulling Yoongi to him and kissing him. The reality of what was happening seemed to hit him suddenly when their lips met. He grabbed his cheeks, holding him close even as Yoongi laughed into his mouth. Jungkook felt a warmth behind him and hands on his hips. Jin. 

“Can I share you too, Jungkook?” Jin whispered in his ear. Jungkook broke the kiss with Yoongi, looking over to meet Jin’s gaze. 

“I—I guess so.”

Jin smiled softly. He stepped to the side, wrapping one arm around Jungkook and pulling him into a deep, needy kiss. His mouth tasted of warm, sweet vanilla and a hint of spice, while Yoongi’s had tasted like coffee beans and chai. It was the perfect blend. 

Yoongi’s mouth landed on his neck, his hand sliding Jungkook’s front as he and Jin kissed. He felt hands on his jeans and gasped, breaking the kiss. He glanced down. Jin was undoing Jungkook’s jeans. 

“You can stop me,” Jin said softly. 

“And me,” Yoongi added.

“No,” Jungkook leaned back, sliding his hand up Yoongi’s neck and through his hair. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He reached forward, touching Jin’s bare chest before sliding lower, his fingers tracing the firm muscle of his abdomen. He undid the other two buttons of his shirt and pulled it open just as Jin opened his jeans. The slid down a little, and Yoongi helped, pushing them the rest of the way down to his ankles. Jungkook toed his sneakers off and kicked the jeans off. He let go of Jin’s chest to turn, grabbing Yoongi’s belt. “I’m not gonna be the only one with no pants,” he said.

Yoongi laughed. “I’ve already had my pants off. I put them on when you came in.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jungkook undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. “What were you two doing in here?” He looked back at Jin, who smirked.

“I was showing him just how… Versatile my food can be.”

“Is that so?”

Jin nodded. Jungkook pushed Yoongi’s jeans down and turned. “Well now I’m envious… Can I get a lesson in that diversity too?” He pouted.

Jin smirked. “I’m sure that can be arranged. He circled around the two and opened a small fridge under Yoongi’s desk. He pulled out a small cheesecake and a can of spray whipped cream. “Mind if I get some things from up front, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi shook his head no, busying himself kissing along Jungkook’s neck. “Bet this isn’t at all what you expected tonight,” he murmured.

“Not at all,” Jungkook leaned into his touch. “But I’m not complaining.”

He turned, pulling Yoongi’s shirt off over his head. He took a moment to stroke his hands over Yoongi’s soft skin, tweaking his nipples just a bit and giggling when Yoongi hissed. Yoongi moved forward, forcing Jungkook to walk backwards until his back hit the wall. He moaned openly, grabbing Yoongi’s hips. 

“Don’t come in your shorts now, I have some fun for you two,” Jin teased when he re-entered, holding a cup of coffee and a bowl of what looked like ice. He set them on the table next to the food and beckoned the two over.

“Yoongi… He smirked. He scraped a small chunk off the cheesecake and brought the fork toward Yoongi. Yoongi opened his mouth for it, but Jin moved the fork at the last second, smearing the cheesecake over Yoongi’s bare collarbone. He looked at Jungkook. “Go on.”

Jungkook grinned. He moved forward, gently licking and sucking the cheesecake from Yoongi’s collarbone. He let his teeth graze over the area, enjoying the squeeze of Yoongi’s hands on his waist. 

“Take your shirt off now,” Jin whispered when Jungkook had cleaned Yoongi’s skin, and left an array of delightful red marks in his wake. Jungkook obeyed, stripping his shirt off and tossing it to the side. Jin did the same, and stripped his jeans off as well, leaving all three in their boxers. Jin grabbed the can of whipped cream, looking between the two. “Who wants a treat?” 

“Yoongi,” Jungkook said. “I stole his cheesecake after all.”

Jin stepped forward and reached out, palming Jungkook through his boxers. Jungkook gasped, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Lets get these off then,” Jin whispered, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s jaw. Yoongi stepped forward, sliding them down his hips. Jin made a low noise of appreciation when his cock sprang free. He shook the can once more. 

“It’ll be cold,” he warned before tipping it upside down. He pressed Jungkook’s cock down a little further so it was more parallel to the ground and sprayed a few lines of the creamy dessert whip over his shaft. 

Jungkook forced his eyes open as Yoongi sank to the ground, licking his lips. He grasped Jungkook’s cock gently behind the tip, careful not to disturb the whipped cream, and looked up at him. Slow and steady, he began to lap to Jungkook’s cock, catching the cream with his tongue. Each inch slipped into his mouth, hot and warm and slick, Jungkook gasped, reaching out for anything to brace himself. Jin caught him, holding his hips to keep him upright as Yoongi sucked his cock.

“That’s it, feels nice, doesn’t it?” Jin murmured in his ear, reaching up to pinch Jungkook’s nipples gently. Jungkook moaned, stroking his fingers through Yoongi’s hair. 

“Wanna repay the favor?” He asked softly when Yoongi had sucked all the cream from Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook nodded. “But—What about you?” He asked, sliding his hand down to palm Jin’s cock. 

Jin smirked. “Oh, wanna see what I have too?” He teased. Jungkook nodded.

“Only fair,” Yoongi said as he stood. He slid his own boxers off and they turned to Jin, shedding the final article of clothing he wore as well. 

Jin handed Jungkook a piece of ice. “Put it in your mouth… And suck my cock,” he instructed. He took a mouthful of coffee and knelt in front of Yoongi. Glancing up, he winked. He grabbed Yoongi’s cock and gave it a few strokes before slowly sliding it past his closed lips. Yoongi groaned and jerked. A bit of the warm coffee dribbled out, down Jin’s chin and chest. He began to bob his head, and Jungkook could hear the slosh of the coffee in his mouth as he sucked Yoongi. 

Jungkook dropped to his hands and knees and placed the ice chip in his mouth. He grabbed Jin’s cock and gave it a few strokes, blowing first gently on it. Jin shuddered and grabbed the back of Jungkook’s neck, squeezing just enough to be known. Jungkook watched goosebumps appear on his thick thighs. He leaned down further and sucked Jin’s cock into his mouth. He flicked the slowly melting ice chip over and around it, using Jin’s grip on the back of his neck to guide what felt the best. Yoongi’s moans were filling the air, as well as the heavy breathing of all three and the wet noises of the two sucking. Jin pulled back and swallowed, gasping and moaning Jungkook’s name. Yoongi sank to the ground and grabbed another ice chip, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. He moved back, allowing Yoongi to take over. 

Jungkook stood and grabbed a forkful of the cheesecake. He slowly streaked it down his belly and over his cock, leaving a little bite on the tip of his cock. Jin smirked, his mouth open already. Jungkook guided him to his cock, moaning when Jin took his tip into his mouth. He sucked hard, flicking his tongue over the top of the head to get the remnants of cheesecake. He moved up then, shifting as much as he could with his cock in Yoongi’s mouth, and licked and nibbled at Jungkook’s belly. Down, over his cock, firm licks and daring grazes of his teeth that had Jungkook tensing in preparation for pain – and moaning in disbelieving arousal when it didn’t come. He was dribbling precoma freely, and knew he wouldn’t last long.  Jin pulled back and moaned, tugging on Yoongi’s hair gently.

“Stop, stop—I’m gonna come,” he whined.

Yoongi pulled back, looking up at him. “Isn’t that the point?” He teased. 

Jin chuckled. “I suppose. But it wouldn’t be fair of you to hoard it to yourself, what if Jungkook wanted a taste?”

Jungkook smirked. “He could share with me after it’s already in his mouth, I suppose.”

Jin’s breathing caught, just a bit, and he nodded. “I suppose he could.” He and Yoongi rose and Jin grabbed a small bowl from the fridge. “My homemade frosting,” he explained when Jungkook twitched his head at it. He uncovered the bowl and took a spoon, stirring it. “Yoongi. Come here.” 

When Yoongi approached, he slathered the frosting over the length of Yoongi’s thick cock, adding a playful swirl to the dollop at the tip. He looked to Jungkook. “He’s the only one you’ve not tasted yet. Go for it.”

Jungkook sank down and took him into his mouth quickly, moaning around his length. The rich, sweet vanilla cream blended perfectly with Yoongi’s salty precome, dribbling in and teasing him with the promise of more. Jungkook bobbed his head quickly, eager to swallow down both the frosting and Yoongi’s unique taste. Yoongi held back no sounds, tugging softly at Jungkook’s hair as he moaned happily. 

Jin dropped down next to Jungkook, shifting to suck and lick at the part of Yoongi’s cock not in Jungkook’s mouth. They switched, taking turns lavishing attention over Yoongi’s cock. Their mouths often met in wet kisses, his cock slotted between their lips. He whined, his hips bucking. 

“Please—” He panted. “It’s okay, you can come,” Jin purred, swallowing his cock down. He backed up, letting Jungkook do the same. They kept at it until Yoongi’s cock began to throb. As it did, Jungkook pulled back, holding it towards them and stroking quickly. The ropes of come erupted from his cock, hitting both on the cheeks and open mouths. Jungkook whined softly, feeling a rope shoot over his tongue. As his orgasm faded, Jin grabbed Jungkook’s face, kissing him hard. They cleaned Yoongi’s release from one another with kisses, sharing the salty treat between them. 

Yoongi sank down, his legs shaking visibly. He grabbed for Jungkook and Jin’s cocks, stroking one in each hand as they made out. Jungkook pulled back in time to see Yoongi leaning forward, swallowing Jin’s cock down as he stroked Jungkook’s. He switched after a few moments, wrapping his perfect lips around Jungkook’s cock and stroking Jin’s. 

“God, I’m already close,” Jungkook whined, holding onto Jin as Yoongi bobbed his head along his shaft. 

“Come in his mouth,” Jin murmured. “You can see how much he wants it.”

Yoongi whined in agreement, his breath hot around Jungkook’s cock. He began to bob his head a little faster, reaching up to play with Jungkook’s balls as he did. 

“That’s it,” Jin praised, stroking the back of Yoongi’s neck. Jungkook let his head fall onto Jin’s shoulder, his fingers biting into his side as Yoongi’s mouth dragged him closer to orgasm. He grunted, biting his lip. Jin slid his hand down, squeezing Jungkook’s ass. He brushed his finger teasingly over Jungkook’s hole, smirking when he jumped. 

“Sensitive,” teased.

Jungkook moaned, pushing his hips forward, pumping into Yoongi’s mouth, and back toward Jin’s hand. The hand disappeared from his ass for a moment. He heard Jin spit and it was back, one finger slipping into his hole. Jungkook shouted in surprise. His hips jerked forward and back, gagging Yoongi.

“Sorry,” he panted, laughing breathlessly as Jin began to finger him. Yoongi gave a thumbs up, shifting to adjust his movements. 

Jin found Jungkook’s prostate easily and began to rub and press it, murmuring soft praises in his ear. 

Jungkook whimpered. He tugged Yoongi’s hair gently. “I can’t hold back,” he gasped in warning. Yoongi nodded as well as he could and pulled back, focusing his oral work on Jungkook’s tip. He rubbed and pressed his balls gently at the same time Jin pushed a second finger up his ass, scissoring them and rubbing against his spot. Jungkook swore, his legs beginning to shake. His cock jerked as his orgasm hit, spilling ropes of come into Yoongi’s mouth. 

Jin slowed his fingers but kept them buried inside Jungkook, rubbing just enough to keep a low level orgasmic buzz running through Jungkook as he milked him dry. 

Yoongi rose, his mouth open to show the come in it. He winked at Jungkook before pulling Jin into a deep kiss. Jungkook struggled to stay upright, watching them share his come.

When Yoongi pulled away, Jin withdrew his fingers momentarily.

“Can I keep fingering you while I come?” He asked. 

Jungkook smirked tiredly. “Of course.” He bent over the desk, wiggling his ass playfully. 

“Wanna finger mine too?” Yoongi teased.

“Well, I’d like to do more than that,” Jin murmured, kissing Yoongi once more. “But I’ll settle for rubbing off on it… If you’ll let me.” 

Yoongi immediately bent over the desk next to Jungkook, kissing him softly. Jin added more spit to Jungkook’s hole, going back to fingering him lazily. Jungkook whined, his soft cock still dribbling weak ropes of come at the right pressure on his spot. He glanced over, watching Jin spit on his other hand to slick his cock. He slid it up, along Yoongi’s perky ass, and moaned, immediately beginning to hump against it. 

After a while, Jin pulled his fingers free from Jungkook’s hole and squeezed Yoongi’s ass, swearing softly. 

“Spread it,” he panted. Yoongi obeyed, spreading his ass open for Jin. 

Jin spat against his hole, and Jungkook watched him slide a finger in gently. Yoongi moaned, deep in his chest as he did. Jin removed his finger and lined his cock up, poking the tip gently against Yoongi’s tight hole. He paused, jerking his cock quickly. 

He moved over to Jungkook, squeezing his ass. 

“Spread,” he panted. Jungkook obeyed, blushing darkly when he heard Jin spit and felt a glob land on his hole. Jin went immediately with his cock, spreading it with the tip and nudging Jungkook’s hole. Slightly more relaxed from the earlier fingering, Jungkook felt his hole give a little, and he moaned.

“Goddamnit,” Jin panted. Jungkook could hear him stroking his cock, the nudges against his hole becoming more persistent. “I wish I could fuck you both,” he grunted.

“Next time I’ll have lube,” Yoongi murmured. “I’d particularly like to see you take Jungkook and pound him against the wall… Looks like you make such pretty sounds with a cock up your ass, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughed breathlessly, moaning softly. “I think I do… I love begging for it,” he admitted.

Both Jin and Yoongi made appreciative noises. 

“I’d like to fuck him after,” Yoongi continued. “Lay him on his his belly right over there… And fuck him after you gape his ass. You could fuck me while I was doing it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jin swore. He moved between them and grabbed the plate of cheesecake, setting it on the table. With a soft groan and a series of rhythmic grunts, Jin came, thick ropes spilling from his cock over the dessert. 

Jungkook met Yoongi’s gaze and smirked, understanding the intention. They both grabbed forks and began to cut into the cake, feeding one another the come covered bites over Jin’s cock. He moaned softly, seeming to shudder and relax as they ate. Jungkook scooped up the last bite and stood straight, holding it out for Jin, he took it gladly, meeting Jungkook’s gaze as he chewed and swallowed. He leaned forward, kissing Yoongi and then Jungkook. Jungkook returned the kiss, pulling back to kiss Yoongi as well. 

The three redressed and cleaned up the office in relative silence, each seeming to be going over what had happened.

“So… That was… Admittedly a little unexpected,” Yoongi said finally, settling into his chair behind the desk. Jin, for all his gusto, looked a little shy, and Jungkook was worried. 

“Was it too much?” Jungkook asked. 

“I don’t think so. Not for me, at least… What about you two?” 

“I liked it,” Jin said. “I had fun and it was a good way to… Try out this dynamic, of all three of us. I’ve never… I’ve never dated more than one person at a time, but I like Jungkook, and I want to try it. And I know it’s where you feel comfortable. So for me, it was nice to sort of… See where we all stood and get close in a new way.”

Jungkook nodded. “I agree. I had said earlier today that I’d be fine with my partner dating someone else, and I kept thinking about that during the day. My mind did wander to Jin a few times, I won’t lie. I think he’s the best match for both of us. He and I have always had our…”

“Rivalry,” Jin filled in, laughing a little, and Jungkook nodded.

“Yes, rivalry. That I have enjoyed. And I obviously care a lot for you, Yoongi… I’m happy with tonight and… I hope we can move forward as a … Well, not really a couple, are we?”

Yoongi laughed. “Not exactly. There’s a lot of words that people have come up with for folks in our dynamic, we can figure it out later. For now I’m content just knowing that there’s no regrets. And that we all want to move forward into… Dating.”

Jungkook and Jin both nodded eagerly. 

“How will dating work?” Jungkook asked. “Do the three of us go together? Two at a time? I mean… Since Jin and I, I figured… You are okay with… Wanting to date me too?”

“I’d like to try it,” Jin said, nodding in agreement.

“I’ve never actually had this kind of relationship,” Yoongi admitted, “despite wanting it for so long. I think we’ll have to sit down together and really hash out what each of us need in a relationship, and how the other two can best provide it. I do know that for this sort of thing… We need to be open with each other.”

Yoongi rose as he spoke, going over to Jin and Jungkook. He took each of their hands in his own. “Communicating is the only way this can work, okay? No more secrets, no more unspoken words and passive aggressive pranking.”

Thy all shared a chuckle at that. Jungkook shook his head. “I think pranking has really become Jin and I’s love language… You’re not gonna stop the pranks, Yoongi.”

Yoongi sighed dramatically, grinning. “And here I was hoping I’d get to avoid Jin shouting at seven in the morning when you’ve stolen his mixer yet again.”

Jungkook grinned brightly as Jin laughed. 

“Look, that was a good prank!” Jungkook defended.

“Yeah, only because I returned it shutting down your fuse box the next day.”

Jungkook glared, but grinned as he was doing it. “We’ll keep you out of the pranks,” he promised, looking back to Yoongi.

“I don’t mind. Just don’t prank me.”

“It’s late,” Jin said. “Why don’t we all have a light dinner together tomorrow after closing? We can meet here, I’ll bring some stuff from the bakery too, and we can have some of the leftover sandwiches from your café. We can all sit together and really talk about what we need and what we’d like from this sort of relationship.”

Jungkook and Yoongi nodded. “I like that idea. I’d like to think more about it anyways,” Jungkook admitted. “I know I want this, but I’ve not been in a lot of relationships, so… When someone asks me what I want from even a traditional two person… I don’t think I could answer. I need to really think and figure it out.”

“I feel like that’s a fair assessment,” Yoongi said. “I’m in a similar boat. The idea that you’re both… Mine… It’s a lot. I’m happy. I’m just overwhelmed.”

“You never thought you could have this,” Jin said. Yoongi nodded.

“Well you do,” Jungkook stepped forward and hugged Yoongi tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And we might have to figure out the fine-tuning stuff, but you have us. It’s not a dream.”

Yoongi hugged him back, nuzzling his neck. “Thank you.”

“We care a lot about you, Yoongi. No matter what. I think I can speak for Jungkook too when I say that this is a good move for us all. We’re happy, and we’ll be happy like this,” Jin said. He wrapped his arms around them both, enveloping them in a tight hug. 

They separated after a moment and Jungkook grabbed his bag. “Come on, we should get going. Do you have any last-minute things to do?”

“No, I’m all closed up here, just have to shut off lights.” Yoongi headed to the back of the office and grabbed his jacket, flicking off the lights and basking them in darkness.

The trio walked to the doors and stepped out into the cool night air, letting Yoongi lock his door. They stood for a moment, all looking at one another in the streetlights. “Well, I go this way,” Jungkook said, jutting his finger in the direction of his bus stop. 

“I’m that way too,” Yoongi said. 

“I go the other way,” Jin said. He glanced around then stepped forward and kissed Yoongi long and hard. Jungkook chuckled a little at it. It was cute, if he was being honest. Jin glared playfully at him. “What’re you laughing at, punk?” He joked. He grabbed Jungkook’s shirt and pulled him into a kiss as well. 

He stood straight and fixed his shirt. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Get home safely,” Yoongi said. They watched Jin walk down the street before turning and walking up it. 

“How far up do you go?” Yoongi asked. 

“My bus stop is about two blocks away.”

“Do you live very far?”

Jungkook shook his head no. “Only a few miles. Just a little too far to walk or ride a bike in, so I have to do the bus.”

Yoongi nodded. “I only live about half a mile up, so I usually walk it. Do you have a car, for the winter?”

“No, but the bus stop is right outside my apartment so it’s not so bad. The city keeps these streets shoveled well.”

“Hm… Well, we’ll see when winter comes. I have a car, I just don’t bother using it except winter with how close I live. I wonder how far down Jin lives.” He glanced back. 

“We can ask him tomorrow.” 

They reached Jungkook’s bus stop. Yoongi sighed softly. “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“The conversation we had this afternoon gave me so much joy and confidence… Just hearing someone support me and give me hope that I could be truly happy… And then I know you sent Jin to me. Even though you knew it might mean losing me if I didn’t want you as a third, I… Your care means so much.”

Jungkook smiled softly. “I fell for you the minute I saw you, Yoongi. I want you to be happy, no matter what. And getting to be with you… And with Jin… It’s perfect. For as much as he and I argue, he’s an amazing man.”

“He is… And so are you.” Yoongi took Jungkook’s hands and squeezed gently. “I’m so happy that this happened.”

Jungkook grinned, his heart skipping a beat. He leaned forward and kissed Yoongi gently. “My bus will be here soon,” he said, not stepping away from Yoongi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you.” Yoongi kissed him once more before letting his hands go and heading down the street. 

Jungkook sighed heavily, a grin on his face as he did. Though he’d been hoping for a good result from finally confronting his feelings, this was a better one that he’d ever imagined. He knew that their future would be a sweet as the coffee and pastries his new boyfriends created.

[melzula]

The Promise

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: this was requested by an anon and yes, it’s based off of the comics

summary: with tensions rising in Yu Dao, Aang seeks the Princess’s help in an effort to sway Zuko in the right direction

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

Aang’s heart is heavy with dread as he approaches the Southern Water Tribe for the first time since having left it nearly two years ago. Half constructed buildings peer out from the clouds, and as Appa nears closer to land the Avatar can see the statue of the south’s beloved leader. Her permanently etched smile does little to ease his nerves as he mulls over how he’s going to deliver the news to her, and though he hates to break his promise to Zuko he has found lately that some promises aren’t meant to be kept.

The moment the flying bison lands in the snow all the school children are quick to rush forward and excitedly crowd around the animal and the Avatar. In the distance you stand, a delighted smile on your face at the sight of your friend whom you immediately pull into a hug.

“Aang! It’s so good to see you again,” you exclaim before pulling out of the embrace. “Did you get taller?”

“I think so,” he chuckles sheepishly. “It’s nice to see you too, Princess. Or should I say Chief?”

“Please, Chief is only for formal occasions. You can still call me Princess if you’d like, just y/n will do too.”

“I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,” Aang admits earnestly. “I wish I could have helped.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Aang. It was my decision to keep Koa a secret so that I wouldn’t pull you and Zuko away from your obligations. And everything turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”

“I suppose it did, and I’m glad you’re alright. The South seems to be doing pretty well,” he notes with a faint smile, enjoying the way your eyes seem to light up at the mention of your home.

“We’ve already accomplished so much in just a short amount of time! The outer tribes are beginning to grow in number and our people have been mingling with those from our sister tribe. Oh, Aang, you have to meet my students! They’ve only been practicing for a few months but some of them have already passed the beginning level and-”

“That all sounds amazing, y/n,” the Avatar admits with a weak smile. However, his strong front doesn’t fool you in the slightest, and you immediately are able to detect that something is wrong, “but I didn’t come here for a friendly visit. There’s... There’s something we need to talk about. It’s about Zuko.”

He doesn’t miss the look that flashes briefly in your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, and though he can tell how anxious you are Aang admires your ability to remain poised and collected in front of your students.

“Let’s talk in my office,” you utter quietly, and after dismissing the children for the day you and Aang are quick to head inside for a private discussion about the matters at hand.

“I’m so sorry to have to barge in on you like this when you already have so much on your plate but I didn’t have a choice,” Aang explains gently.

“What’s going on Aang?” You ask uneasily, and the worried look on your face doesn’t make things any easier for him. After all you’ve done for him and your friends, he doesn’t have the heart to break yours.

“The night the Harmony Restoration Movement was announced I made two promises to Zuko. I promised him that if things began to get out of hand and history began to repeat itself, I would end his life before he could have the chance to become like his father. The world needs peace and balance, and we can’t have anyone jeopardizing that. You know I’m just a peaceful monk, I couldn’t even kill Ozai, but Zuko is my friend and it meant so much to him that I had no choice but to agree.”

“And the second promise?” You murmur quietly, your mind reeling at the information given to you. Horror and panic flash across your features and you feel nauseous, you feel as if you can’t breathe and the walls are closing in all around you, and a newfound sense of desperation washes over you.

“The second promise was not to tell you. Zuko knew that if you found out you’d delay your return home to try and talk him out of it, and his mind had already been up. He didn’t want to worry you-”

“Why are you telling me this now, Aang? What’s changed?” You interrupt, though you fear you already know the answer. The Avatar refuses to meet your gaze.

“Zuko has withdrawn from the Harmony Restoration Movement and refuses to compromise. If things don’t work themselves out soon I might have to fulfill my promise...”

The room is heavy with tension and deathly silent as you process the news Aang has given you. It doesn’t sound like Zuko at all, and this promise doesn’t sound like Aang either.

“Aang, you’re my friend and I love you. But if you choose to fulfill this promise of yours I’ll never be able to forgive you.”

“Trust me, y/n, I don’t want it to come to that. That’s why I’m here,” he says earnestly. “I’m telling you all of this because I want you to talk to Zuko. You’re the only person he’ll listen to, so maybe you can get through to him and this whole mess can be resolved.”

“Where is Zuko now?”

“The last I heard he’d locked himself away in the palace back at the Fire Nation.”

“Spirits, so much for an honest relationship,” you grumble quietly to yourself. A small, defeated sigh escapes you and you nod. “Alright. Let me get my affairs in order and then I’ll go talk to Zuko.”

“Thank you so much, Princess. I know how hard all of this must be for you, and I wish there was another way but-”

“It isn’t your fault, Aang. At least not entirely. You only did what Zuko asked you to in respect of your friendship, and now in respect of our friendship I ask that you allow me to sway him in the right direction before any decisions are made.”

“Yes, of course,” he nods earnestly, and sensing that you need a moment to yourself, the Avatar excuses himself. “I’ll go make sure Appa is ready for the trip. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

A breath you didn’t know you’d been holding leaves you the moment the door shuts behind Aang, and it takes all of your will power to keep your rising tears at bay. To think that Zuko had gone to the extreme to reassure himself of the fact that he’d never repeat his family’s footsteps broke your heart; Zuko was nowhere close to being the cruel man Ozai had been, and you thought he was past this by now. You were worried about him and how he must be feeling, but you also felt it to be unfair of him to keep such a thing from you. He had been so distraught when he had learned about Koa and after that you had both sworn to tell each other everything no matter what, yet now it seemed Zuko had no intention of keeping that promise to you. Promise. It seemed like such a heavily loaded word now, and you were beginning to resent it entirely. You couldn’t wait another minute, you had to see Zuko.

It takes you no longer than an hour to get your affairs in order— Hakoda and your mother are left in charge to oversee the tribe while you’re away, and Pakku is to continue lessons without your presence. You pack your bag and join Aang on Appa’s saddle, and with the quick utterance of the phrase yip yip the two of you are riding high into the skies and making your way towards the Fire Nation.

The wind blowing through your hair is a bittersweet reminder of your days fighting the war alongside your friends; you had once believed that things would be simpler after the Fire Nation’s defeat, but so far nothing had seemed to be any easier than you had hoped it would be. You wished they were here now, you could really use some reassurance from Sokka or Suki, and you know Katara would probably have just the right thing to say to ease your nerves. Instead, the ride is silent and tense as you journey to see Zuko.

In the throne room sits the Fire Lord, tense and distracted by the millions of thoughts that whiz by in his head. He knew he was making the right decision by allowing his people to remain in Yu Dao, he was their ruler and it was his duty to look after their best interests, and backing out from the Harmony Restoration Movement would prevent the disruption of the peaceful lives they’d created for themselves there. Seeing the Mayor’s family, their daughter born of both Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom heritage, it allowed him to see his own future, one in which he selfishly realized what the movement would mean not only for his people but for himself.

Your portrait sits in his lap, face poised and stoic yet with a hint of a smile on your face, and it is this portrait that brings him solace and comfort during his time of turmoil. He’d purchased the photo from a vendor back in the South during the celebration of your coronation, and looking at it now he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Everything had become such a mess and all he wanted was your comfort; you were busy rebuilding a tribe, and after Zuko had made such a fuss about maintaining honesty between you two he felt foolish to try and tell you now. Surely you’d leave him for it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand that heartache. Not again.

A knock on the door rips his attention away from your portrait and an immediate scowl forms on his features. He’d made it specifically clear that he didn’t want any visitors and was to be left undisturbed. Where were the Kyoshi Warriors to keep away the arrivals?

“I will see no one,” Zuko bellows, shoulders tensing when the door slowly begins to open despite his proclamation. However, when his eyes take in the sight of his beloved the Fire Lord does a double take before immediately relaxing at the presence of his Princess.

“Will the Fire Lord make an exception for me?” You ask with a meek smile, carefully shutting the doors behind you

“Y/n!” Zuko exclaims before scrambling out of his seat and rushing towards you. You can’t help the delighted laugh that leaves you when Zuko lifts your figure off the ground and holds you impossibly close to his chest. Tears well in his eyes as he nestles his face into your shoulder and breathes in the scent of fire lilies and snow.

“It’s nice to know you’ve missed me,” you giggle softly, though your smile fades once Zuko sets you back on the ground and you’re able to see his face. Carefully you rest a hand upon his face, Zuko immediately melting into your touch. “My love, you haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

“How can you tell?” Zuko asks with quiet surprise.

“I can see the restlessness and turmoil in your eyes. You’re troubled.”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffs quietly. You frown.

“What’s going on with you, Zuko? Aang told me you backed out of the Harmony Restoration Movement.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The Fire Lord replies, a harsh edge suddenly coating his tone. “Just to talk me back into it??”

“I’m here because I’m worried about my boyfriend,” you emphasize, and you don’t miss the look of guilt that flash’s across Zuko’s face for snapping at you. Quieter now, “Aang told me about the promise he made to you. I want to hear your side of the story, and I want to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t go that far.”

Zuko is silent for a moment, and after a beat passes he nods. No more secrets, it’s time to tell you everything.

You end up in the palace gardens by the pond, loaves of bread in your hands as you enjoy the breeze and feed the turtle ducks. The Kyoshi Warriors stand in the distance to guard you both, and Suki gives you a quiet nod when your eyes meet across the way. You wanted to give Zuko a comforting atmosphere where he could feel safe to talk, the tone of the throne room was a bit too intense for the both of you, and after recalling stories he had told you of his mother you figured this was the perfect spot to do so. It takes him time to gather his thoughts and process his emotions, but you wait patiently until he’s ready.

“I want to start by saying that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I knew you’d worry and drop everything to try and talk me out of something I’d already decided, and I didn’t want to take you away from your people, not again,” Zuko explains quietly. “But my family, selfishness and destruction runs in our blood, and I needed to make sure that I’d never make the same mistakes they did.”

“Zuko,” you utter gently, your hand coming to rest upon his bicep, “you are nothing like your father or your grandfather. You’re a good person, you’ve already proven this time and time again. Yes, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve also made changes, good changes.”

“I can’t make any more mistakes, y/n. That’s why Aang is there to stop me. But backing out of the Harmony Restoration Movement is not a mistake.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Because of you.”

“Me?” You repeat in bewilderment. “I-I don’t understand.”

“I had the chance to visit Yu Dao and see what my people had created, the life they spent generations building for themselves. As Fire Lord it’s my job to make sure my people are happy, and they are happy— coinciding with earth kingdom citizens. You should have seen it, y/n. Best friends, business partners, families made up of two different nations. I know Aang believes there can’t be any harmony unless the four nations are separate, but Yu Dao proves that that’s not true, and so do we.”

“The mayor’s wife of Yu Dao invited me to stay with them, her an earth bender and her husband a fire bender. They had a daughter and together they were a beautiful family. And do you know what I saw when I was with them?”

“What did you see?” You ask quietly, your eyes welling with tears as you hang onto Zuko’s every word.

“I saw us. I saw you cradling a baby in your arms while you sat in the gardens and watched the older children play. It was peaceful, and even though the odds have always been against us it didn’t matter that the mother of our children was of the Water Tribe and the father was of the Fire nation. All that mattered in that moment was our family. A family that can’t exist if we keep the four nations separate,” Zuko emphasizes desperately. “If it’s selfish of me to base my decision on my own desires then I’ll take the hit, but I’d rather die than ever have to be kept away from you simply because we’re different.”

Zuko’s eyes have grown wide and his shoulders rise and fall with each anxious breath he takes as he gauges your reaction. You’re silent for a long while, your own gaze settled upon the pond as you watch the mother turtle duck look after her ducklings. You wanted to be a mother some day, and you’d be lying if you said you could picture yourself being with anyone other than Zuko. He was it for you, the only person you’d ever want to be with, and no one had any right to tell you otherwise.

“Zuko,” you say quietly, lifting your gaze to stare into his golden irises, “you’re absolutely right.”

“I-I am?” He splutters in response, surprised at the fact that he’s truly in the right for once. He’s always relied on you as a moral compass, so to hear that you agree with him is a weight lifted off of his shoulders.

“You are,” you reaffirm. “How can you have peace if everyone is expected to keep to themselves? That’s not harmony at all. It’s isolating and it’s lonely and it’s sad. Those families shouldn’t be separated, and you need to do whatever you can to keep them together.”

“I will,” Zuko nods quickly. “Will you help me?”

“I’m on your side Zuko, but I can’t fight my friends,” you lament gently. “I’ll try to reason with Aang, and if it comes down to it I’ll stop him from fulfilling his promise to you, but I’m afraid I’ll have to remain neutral.”

“I understand,” he murmurs gently. He takes your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for hearing my side and having my back.”

“I always will, Zuko. You’ll never have to worry about that,” you reply, smiling as he pulls you into a tight hug. Despite the conflict going on between your boyfriend and your friends, you have a feeling that everything is going to work itself out. It has to. It must.

And it will.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @simpinforsukka @sirkekselord @protect-remus @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @draqondance @taeeemin @user12345321 @just--artemis--with--ghost @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @neighborhoodpansexualdisaster @noodlesfluffy @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch |

[the-nagakenny-archives]

((OOC: Don’t have a title for this one, but it was inspired by a short piece my friend @crooked-tarot-rp sent me one day XD It features Gotham AU Kenny and two of my friend’s characters---Alder the elf and Aeschylus the cambion---and also some hypnosis and slight foot domination, so fair warning!))

It had been easy enough for Alder to break into Kenny's office while it was unattended. The hard part, he was discovering with growing frustration, was getting anything out of it to make even that slight effort worthwhile. There had to be something, he kept insisting to himself. All of these rich, eccentric types always had something to hide. And Kenny was very rich and very eccentric---with more emphasis on the latter, in Alder's opinion. Nobody could be that obsessed with snakes and be a well-adjusted human being. The trouble was he couldn't find any evidence that supported that theory; no lurid photographs, no documents detailing embezzlements, no credit card statements with incriminating purchases. Hell, apparently the man didn't keep a spare cell phone or even a laptop to do business on in here. He was well beyond annoyed at how fruitless his search was becoming. "Looking for something?" Alder gave a start; the voice that had spoken from the doorway had been soft and sly, but it might as well have been as loud as a gunshot. Alder's heart thudded uncomfortably in his ears for a moment as he turned around to face Kenny standing there, but reassembled his composure quickly. His eyes twinkled, lips curling into a smirk. "Was that not obvious?" he purred. "Oh no, I just thought I'd help tidy things up a bit. After business hours, of course. Speaking of which: shouldn't you be at home, getting ready for bed? Work must be so exhausting for you, after all." "Heh, not really. I do a lot of napping up here, mostly." Kenny's expression and demeanor were disarmingly amicable, but Alder couldn't help seeing something else there as well. He thought back to when he and Aesch first met him and Alder had tried his persuasive methods on him; it hadn't worked, which annoyed him (in fact just the memory of it now was making him flush a bit), but there had been something altogether more worrying in the man's eyes. A cunning glint that seemed almost inhuman. Alder thought he was seeing it now, too. Kenny began walking toward his desk, gesturing to the chair in front of it while he went to sit down in the faux leather wingback behind it. "Well, since you're here," he said cheerfully, "grab a seat and let's have a chat. I've been meaning to have a one-on-one with you, actually." He folded his hands over his desk and smiled at him expectantly. Alder blinked incredulously for a moment, then snorted. "Aha....a chat, is it? You haven't....you know, called the police with a panic button under your desk or anything?" Or have a gun concealed on you that you plan on using at some point? Because I really don't like that smile of yours, no matter how handsome you happen to be, he thought uncomfortably. Kenny's smile became one of wry playfulness. "Nope. Cross my heart." He drew an 'X' over his chest with an elaborate flourish, then pointed his finger out, beckoning. "Come here." His tone was soft, lilting, though Alder thought he detected a casual air of command. He felt his cheeks flush as a roiling tide of irritation rose in him for just a moment. He wasn't someone who allowed himself to be bossed around like a truant employee, but then again he was the one in a compromising position; the thought of the police getting involved didn't bother him, but the thought of Kenny possibly saying something about this to Aesch certainly did. He wondered briefly if that had occurred to Kenny at all, and got his answer looking into that prehistoric shark smile. Of course he had.

"Hmph," he grunted, begrudgingly parking himself in the chair across from Kenny. "Very well. What's on your mind, then?" Besides snakes, that is, he thought with sardonic satisfaction.

"Actually," Kenny replied, his tone unchanged, "I'd like to discuss what's on yours." His eyebrow arched knowingly. "You think I'm hiding something, and you want to know what it is so you can blackmail me. Do I have that right?"

Alder flashed back a self-assured smile, though small alarm bells were ringing in his head. Careful, old boy. This one's not as dumb as he looks. "Getting straight to the point, are we?" He ran a hand flippantly through his hair. "I'm just looking out for my friend. Making sure he's not involving himself with someone....well...." He chuckled, and instead of elaborating he tipped his hand back and forth, letting that speak for itself. "My snooping around shouldn't bother you if you don't have something to hide though, don't you think?" His eyes glittered slyly. "Mmm, it doesn't bother me," Kenny said, and there was nothing in Kenny's voice or expression that suggested the contrary. "I find it more than a little flattering that you've taken that kind of interest in me. You must care very deeply about your friend to go to all this trouble." He swung his legs up onto the desk with self-possessed nonchalance, propping one foot atop the other. Penny loafers, Alder noticed, not bothering to disguise a slight smirk of amusement. Without socks, no less. How gauche. Then he noticed that knowing look was back on Kenny's face, and realized what he had been insinuating. He laughed out loud.

"What, you think I'm jealous? Please." He tilted his head wryly. "I do love Aesch, but I'd never interfere with his love life out of wanting him for myself. In this case, I'm doing some light investigative work to protect him. Because, quite frankly, you're suspicious as hell." He said this last bit with every ounce of conviction he had while maintaining his languid smugness.

He had expected maybe touching a nerve with that, but Kenny remained unflappable. In fact, he gave a laugh of his own; a throaty, pleasant chuckle that sent an involuntary shiver down Alder's spine. "Really?" he asked, his dark eyes twinkling with mirth. "Interesting. What do you find so suspicious about me, exactly?" He nestled comfortably in his seat and folded his hands over his chest, as though he was about to listen to some exciting news. He knocked his shoes lightly against each other to a rhythm only he could hear.

"The snakes," Alder said immediately. He wasn't about to let that go, he figured he'd get that out of the way up front. "I mean, come on."

Kenny tilted his head and looked at him slyly. "You don't like snakes?" His voice was a silky purr.

"I'm indifferent towards them, personally. You, on the other hand, seem to be unreasonably infatuated with them. One might even say obsessed." Alder crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat slowly. "And I refuse to believe someone living and working in Gotham isn't aware of the implications of that. Considering how colorful the city's criminals are."

"And I suppose you also find me suspicious because I didn't react to your attempt to sway me earlier?" The shell of Alder's smug confidence cracked a little, his cheeks flaring brightly in surprise; the remark was so casual and unexpected.  "I, w-well, that is, er..." He cursed himself inwardly as he tried to find his footing again.

"Mmhmm." The cunning shine in Kenny's eyes was back. Clunk, clunk went his shoes against each other. "Because it really should have worked, shouldn't it? If I was just another rich, flaky executive type, that is."

Alder opened his mouth, about to form an acerbic response, when Kenny hooked his right shoe against the heel of his left and gently kicked the loafer cleanly off his foot. It thumped to the carpeted floor, unregarded. The other shoe followed suit shortly after. Kenny hadn't broken eye contact the entire time; now he was leaning his face against his hand, his expression vaguely sly and almost seductive, his bare toes slowly flexing up and down to the same unknown rhythm as before.

Alder was uncharacteristically stunned by this bizarre turn, completely apropos of nothing. Well, no---a nasty bolt of embarrassment struck him. There was no way he could know about that, though....could he? His eyes drifted from Kenny's face to his bare feet propped upon the desk, and maybe lingered there a little too long before snapping back to their original position. He gave an incredulous laugh, though it was somewhat strained. "Interesting interrogation technique," he said dryly. "Though I think you may be taking the phrase 'smelling someone out' rather broadly."

"Do they smell?" Kenny replied, his eyes shining with intense amusement. "I like to think I do a pretty good job making sure that they don't. At least not in a way that's offensive. But perhaps you're a better judge than I am, since you're closer." His foot drifted to rest directly in front of him, toes wiggling playfully. Alder flinched away, eyes narrowing, trying to hide his blush behind a look of annoyance and disgust. His second toe is longer than the others. The thought lit up unbidden in Alder's mind. Flame foot.

"What--I--what are you even--" He huffed, eyes flashing with indignance. "Would you be so kind as to get that out of my face?" His uneasiness was becoming more pronounced the longer Kenny's feet were in front of him. He was trying very hard not to inhale, though he had caught the faintest whiff of something: smoky, masculine, rustic. The faux leather of Kenny's shoe.

"It just so happens," Kenny said idly, as though Alder hadn't spoken at all; his feet remained firmly where they were, propped and crossed in front of Alder's flustered, disgruntled face, while Kenny lounged back farther into his chair, arms behind his head, "I'm not unfamiliar with your methods of persuasion. In fact...."

His feet slowly shifted out of Alder's line of sight---Finally, thought Alder with chagrined relief---but the withering glare Alder planned to give him fled from his face almost immediately at what he saw in Kenny's sly, hooded eyes.

"....I must confessssssss to doing something similar."

Kenny's eyes were full of colors; rhythmically pulsing colors that radiated outward from his pupils in a never-ending pattern. They were stunningly hypnotic; Alder realized with mute bewilderment that he had looked into them for a full thirty seconds, mouth slowly becoming slack, before he was able to wrest some kind of control over himself and try to force himself to look away. His mind reeled from resisting the blank, relaxed feeling that had threatened to overtake him. "What....y-you...." he said in a tight voice as he made a Herculean effort to tear his eyes away, and managed to get one eye closed. Alder found that he was still somewhat capable of self-righteous anger at the nerve of this smirking barefoot cretin attempting to hypnotize him of all people, and he weakly held onto it, though it seemed to be rapidly evaporating into a muzzy, docile fog the longer his blue eye looked into Kenny's kaleidoscopic ones. "Unh, you buh-bastard...." "Mmhmm." Kenny's voice was a smooth, playful purr. "I thought you might be a ssssssslippery customer." He seemed to fix him more intensely with his gaze; the colors in his eyes pulsed faster in a dazzling, dizzying display.

Alder tried to protest, but only an unintelligible garble escaped his lips. Both his eyes widened beyond his control to hungrily absorb the profoundly hypnotic undulations before him. The colors, those eyes. Such power he'd never experienced before. He was losing control fast, he had to think of something while he still had the capacity to do so. He found with a gauzy feeling of dismay that his muscles refused to work; he couldn't even stand up, let alone walk out the door. The urge would light up feebly in his head, but his legs were much too comfortable where they were, thank you very much. He desperately tried focusing on something else. His mind reeled again like a fish struggling on a hook; he managed to lower his head, uttering an involuntary sigh, and began to drift his eyes with difficulty to the small snake plant perched at the corner of Kenny's desk.

"Ah ah ah. Pay attention, pleasssse." A gentle, cajoling rebuke. Kenny's foot drifted close, pressing itself against Alder's cheek, and then slid a slow, sensuous trail to rest beneath Alder's chin. It lifted his head back up, toes pointing, guiding Alder's gaze back to Kenny's eyes. Alder was defenseless against the supernaturally lush smoothness of his skin, and the suddenly intense bouquet of scents: shoe leather, cinnamon, coffee, cloves. His head swam. His eyelids drooped but didn't fully close---couldn't. Kenny's fascinating eyes rippled and eddied without end, dominating his vision.

"Better. Good. Now, you're sleepy, I know, and I'll let you sleep in a moment." Kenny's velvet, soothing voice slithered in lazy loops and figure eights in his ears, through his mind. "But first, you're going to listen. And then, you're going to answer me when I want you to. Listen--answer. Very sssssimple. Do you understand?"

Alder sluggishly fought the urge to reply "yes"; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It wasn't fair, him being in this position, one that he had rather enjoyed being on the opposite end of on some occasions. This was nothing like what he did though, he thought defensively through the dense fog. This was diabolical. This was insidious. This was.....was.....

Well...maybe it wasn't all that awful, really. Now that Kenny had ensured he look at nothing else, he had to admit that Kenny's eyes were rather....beautiful. And this drowsy, fuzzy feeling coming over him, winking his thoughts away like so many candles. It felt...pleasant, actually, to not have to think.

Kenny tilted his head slightly, arching an eyebrow. "Hmm? Cat got your tongue?" he asked slyly. "Maybe we can do something to loosen it."

The toes holding up Alder's chin slid out with smooth, deliberate slowness, inching upwards. The large oval of Kenny's big toe softly touched the furrow of his mouth, lingered a moment, and gently pushed down on the ridge of his lower lip, parting it slightly. Alder could just barely taste the toe on the tip of his tongue; oh gods was his last coherent though as he shivered with helpless pleasure, the bliss of Kenny's power now gripping him completely.

"I like your friend," Kenny said. The sly playfulness had somewhat left his voice, replaced by something more contemplative. His toes had retreated back down under Alder's chin. "I like him a lot. And I want to like you, too. But it's hard to do that when you seem to have it in for me. Spying on me. Snooping around in my business. Uncharitably belittling my.....interesssssssts." He hissed this last with particular emphasis, a grin spreading across his face, revealing his teeth. "You want to know why I like snakes so much, hmm? That's easy enough."

Through his dreamy trance Alder became vaguely aware that the foot beneath his chin seemed to be.....changing. The toes elongating, fusing together. Kenny slowly crossed his legs, which also seemed to fuse into one shape, growing thicker. Huge, powerful cylindrical shapes looped and curved around the desk and chairs, filling the space around them, shifting furniture gently in their wake. Scales glistened, coils slithered, and Kenny grinned among them. He brought Alder's face closer, the tail beneath his chin cupping his face.

"I trusssssst this clears that up for you?"

"Mmn....mmhmm...." Alder's right eyelid slowly slid closed, then languidly made its way back up to half mast. His voice was slurred, thick with drowsy rapture. "Yes.....it does...." Why, it was more than understandable to Alder; it was positively fine and dandy. Never mind the fact that he was now surrounded on all sides by huge, shifting masses of scaly muscle that were once masquerading as Kenny's legs.

"Good," Kenny chuckled. "I'm glad. I hope this means you won't be so suspicious of me anymore, now that I've been honest with you. And that we can be friends from now on."

As he slowly leaned closer over the desk, he brought Alder's face even closer with his tail; Alder was leaning completely forward now, his arms hanging limp at his sides, lolling like a marionette. Kenny hovered just close enough for his soporific whisper to reach Alder's ears. "Sssssleeeeep," he hissed.

"ALDER! Don't do this, please, I swear if you---"

Aeschylus burst into the room with a combination of righteous anger and hand-wringing nervousness. He had taken five steps before the scene that met his eyes could really register: a huge slithering mass of snake coils, with Kenny and Alder at the center of it. Kenny was blinking at him in wide-eyed bewilderment. Alder seemed to be completely asleep with an enchanted smile on his face (that was so unlike Alder that it gave Aeschylus particular pause), precariously supported by what could only be Kenny's tail; his head slowly slid to meet the desk with a dull thunk, but he did not awaken.

"Oh!" Kenny's face lit up cheerfully. "Hello, you! Come on in, I was just finishing up!"

"Uh.....huh." Aeschylus looked from Kenny to Alder, to the lot of Kenny's coils enveloping the room, and then drifted back to Kenny again. He awkwardly cleared his throat, adjusting his collar and tie. "Ahem, I see. Alder, uh.....is he....?"

"Oh, he's fine. We just chatted, he admired my feet for a bit, and now he's having himself a little lie-down." Kenny's tail stroked Alder's blonde hair gently. "I did intend for him to be more comfortable than this, but---" Kenny trained his dark, cunning eyes on Aeschylus with a seductive smirk. "---I suppose he can wait his turn for now."

"Ah....aha. Right." Aeschylus watched as Kenny unfurled himself from behind his desk and began to come toward him; he found his languid slithering movements rather mesmerizing. He realized mutely that he had been so busy watching Kenny himself that he neglected to pay attention to what his tail was doing; presently it was making a slow ascent up his legs, wrapping him in the velvety scales.

Hang on....Aeschylus frowned suddenly. "Did you say he was admiring your feet?" he asked incredulously.

The tail paused mid-loop around his waist at this. Kenny smiled innocently. "Just having fun with him on my part, really," he purred slyly. He glided around to Aeschylus's side, leaning close to his ear. "Although, he didn't seem to mind...."

Aeschylus snorted as Kenny drifted away behind him and the tail continued its path around his body, squeezing him gently at regular intervals. The image of steely-eyed smug Alder with someone else's feet in his face was too outlandish to believe. But then again, he'd found himself believing a lot of outlandish things lately. Not the least of which was how much he enjoyed being squeezed by a certain handsome naga's coils...

[iamverysmall-andihavenomoney]

“It’s going to be okay.”

I just did a couple of my comfort characters for this one. Send in requests if you want to see specific characters, I’d love to write for y’all’s comfort characters too 🤍

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Pairing(s): Suna Rintarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Miya Atsumu x Gender Neutral! Reader, Tsukishima Kei x Gender Neutral! Reader, Bokuto Kōtarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Oikawa Tōru x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Fluff/Comfort, Reader is stressed out because of jobs/midterms/college in general, reader cries

Suna Rintarō:

It had been a rough week.

It felt like everything was going wrong. Day in and day out.

It felt like the universe was hell bent on making you break, this past week.

You worked as a barista, while you got yourself through college. 

Not an easy job, despite what some people liked to believe.

And with each day came a new promise.

Monday? A trip to the ER with second and third degree burns on your arms, when an angry customer had taken out their anger on you.

Tuesday? Your boss had yelled at you - humiliated you in front of the rest of your coworkers.

Wednesday? You ended up not realizing that yo were decorated in chocolate syrup, when you slumped on your bed, having to wash the sheets and most of you laundry, after.

Thursday? You’d tripped while at work and gotten to go home early, with your face burning in embarrassment at the snickers of other college students.

Friday? A pop quiz that you were 50% sure you failed.

Now it was Saturday, your studying? Done. Your assignments? Completed.

But you still felt the stress of the past week weighing on you.

So when you started tearing up, Suna couldn’t say he was surprised. He wished he could have made this past week easier for you.

Midterms were coming up, as well, just adding to the stress you were already feeling.

So, your boyfriend just does what comes natural to him, when it comes to you.

Rintarō doesn’t waste a moment when he returns from practice, spotting you slumped over on the couch, glaring at the floor while you tried not to let any tears fall from your eyes. With your choice comfort movie playing on the screen, he knew he had to do something.

   Even if you had been pushing him away out of frustration, for the duration of this entire week.

   Rintarō walks over to you and gently scoops you up in his arms, before sitting on the couch with you in his lap. Well-manicured nails begin to softly and affectionately run over your scalp, bringing a comfort to you that you could no longer deny you needed. Desperately.

   He tugs you gently so you’re comfortable in his lap before he brings a calloused hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone softly. He can’t help his sweet, soft smile as he sees the first tears trickle down your cheeks. He normally hated to see you cry, but he knew that you needed to get this out.

   Sometimes, people just needed to scream and cry to get pent up emotion out. So when you started sobbing, completely collapsing against your boyfriend’s chest, he pulls you as close to him as you can possibly get, rocking you as he cradles your body against his own. 

   “There’s my baby, let it out...” His tone is soft as his hand holds your head against his chest. “Let it all out. It’s going to be okay. I’m here and I’ve got you.” 

   He doesn’t quite know how long it is until your sobs quiet down, the crying wearing you out, but it doesn’t matter to him. He snatches the remote up to restart the movie that you’d failed to get through, earlier, before tossing that same remote across the couch so he could readjust your bodies.

   Leaning his shoulders and head against the pillow and armrest, he reclines himself, allowing you to get comfortable on top of him. As you rest on him, he brings a hand to your cheek once again, wiping away any remnants of the tears that had previously decorated your cheeks.

   “It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.” 

Miya Atsumu: 

Being stressed around your boyfriend?

Unheard of.

Atsumu is a perceptive little shit who picks up on the smallest changes in your mood.

And he will do everything in his power to reassure you, or cheer you up, whatever you need.

So, it’s not built up stress that gets you.

No, it’s the phone call you get in the middle of the night, while you’re resting in Atsumu’s arms.

You and Atsumu put your phones on do not disturb/bedtime mode every night.

Very few people are set up so that your phone will ring, when they call.

So, you end up waking up pretty quickly at the sound of a familiar ringtone, Atsumu sleepily sitting up beside you as you sit up to take the call.

Your best friend.

Who had just been admitted to the hospital after a car crash.

They were most likely going to make it, but they were still undergoing surgery and you knew that anything could happen.

You were her emergency contact so they called you from the ambulance.

Not too long after, you found out that the other person was undergoing surgery and probably wouldn’t make it.

The realization that that could have been your best friend made you feel like you couldn’t breath.

Atsumu had been watching your frantic pacing for the past ten minutes, watching you work yourself up more and more. You were shaking, though you hadn’t turned to him yet, like you always did, when you needed comfort. And he was too scared to make it worse.

   Until he heard how your breath caught in your throat, once again, nearly sounding like you were about to start hyperventilating. Standing, the tall volleyball player comes to stop in front of you, gently grasping your wrists in his hands to make you look at him. He doesn’t say anything as you let out a shaky breath and crumble against him, just falling into his open arms.

   Cradling you against him with his large palm at the back of your head, he lets you get out the emotions that were pent up, soft sobs being let out against his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he whispers soft words of encouragement. “They’re going to be okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay, I promise. And have I ever broken my promises to you?”

   With a shake of your head, your sobs quiet and all that’s left escaping you are quiet sniffles. If anyone was able to calm you, it’d be your Tsumu. There wasn’t a bad day you could remember that he hadn’t made things better. Your boyfriend always knew what to say... When it came to you, at least.

   It wasn’t ten minutes later when a doctor came out to let you know that the surgery had been a success and that your friend was okay.

   They’d be asleep for a few hours, allowing you to go home and change from your pajamas, if you would like. You didn’t catch that bit with the immediate relief that flooded through you.

   You both did end up going home to shower and change, wanting to get you both and your friend some food on your way back. As soon as you were in the comfort of your own home, Atsumu took your face in his hands, cradling your cheeks and gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

   “As long as I’m around, I am going to make sure that everything works out in the end. I don’t like seeing you cry and I don’t like seeing you stressed out. You’re my significant other and I’m going to take care of you.” He reassures you earnestly. “It’s all going to be okay, I promise.”

   And as his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, you know that it is, in fact, all going to be okay. You had Atsumu and he had you.

Tsukishima Kei:

Mid-terms aren’t shit.

Not only are the tests long, and hard, and stressful,

But both you and Kei had them.

And both you and Kei had attitudes - especially when it came to either of you getting stressed out.

So, you both decided to stay and study on your own for the most part, until exams were over.

It was only a week, after all, how much harm could a single week do to the two of your mental states?

A lot, apparently.

It was Kei who caved first, surprisingly, needing to see you.

It was actually pretty unsurprising, boy is whipped for you.

Grabbing his keys, he tugs on the hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with grabbing you matching one that you’d left at his place.

Then he leaves, his usual preference to wear pants rather than sweatpants, when he left his home, being overpowered by his craving to see you.

And he knew you needed to see him too.

But if anyone was more stubborn than he was about things, it was you and he knew you weren’t going to cave anytime soon.

What he didn’t expect when he entered your home was to find you crying into your hands, in a pile of your own notes, with your computer in front of you.

He furrowed his brows - you had overwhelmed yourself...

Because he hadn’t been here to prevent you from it.

Kei sighs as he listens to the clanking of keys together, his attempts to unlock the door to your apartment failing multiple times, before finally ending in success. At least he knew no one would ever break into your apartment. They wouldn’t be able to get in.

Look at him, he’d been over here a dozen times and it still took him about three minutes to manage your locks open. You must know how much he loved you with the fact he still put up with it. He enters the home, near silently, placing the strawberry shortcakes and milkshakes down on the counter, his keys being hung beside yours. Walking past your kitchen, he freezes in the doorway, hearing your quieted sobs before he sees you.

He had never, not even in his years of playing volleyball, moved as quickly as he did in that moment. He moved to kneel in front of where you were seated on the couch, taking your laptop and shutting it.

Kei knew you hadn’t opened your eyes, or moved your hands from shielding your face to see him, but you knew it was him with the way you slid off of the spot on the couch to kneel on the floor, your face finding familiar purchase in his neck.

“I’m not around for a few days and you manage to overwork yourself like this. God damn it, Y/N, don’t do this again.” His words, no matter if they should have sounded angry, just came out worried.

You knew that the only person he was mad at was himself for even suggesting the idea of you both spending time studying individually.

“I’m right here, okay? I’m not going to be going anywhere,” placing a large hand on the back of your head, he gently kisses the crown of your head. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“It’s all going to be okay,” his soothing voice calms you quite a bit, making your body slump against his in relaxation. “There’s my shortcake. Just relax, alright. We’ll study more later. In the meantime, we’re going to watch a movie and eat the sweets I brought. I don’t want you to think about those god damn exams.” Your nod in confirmation is all he needs to get you both comfortable on the couch so he can take care of his partner... Like he should have been going this entire time.

Bokuto Kōtarō:

Kōtarō, despite people thinking he’s not the smartest, is a very intelligent person.

Especially when it comes to emotional intelligence.

Which is why he figured out about your family issues, within a month.

Poor boy wished he could do something, though other than the constant sleepovers in high school, there wasn’t much else he could do. It broke his heart.

But that changed, when you both graduated high school together.

He didn’t allow you to stay any longer in that house. You’d dealt with the constant yelling and the lack of care for your feelings, long enough.

Though, that didn’t mean you’d escaped it when you went to reunions or to visit them on holidays.

They always managed to drag you into going.

And they always managed to drag you into their bullshit.

Kōtarō hadn’t been able to go to this year’s reunion - a practice game held him up.

His presence usually encouraged your family member to back the fuck off and not drag you into things.

But, this time...

He was just glad he’d gotten there when he did.

Pulling up in the driveway of the designated home of this particular family reunion, he could hear the yelling, as soon as he stepped out of his car. The volleyball player tensed up as he quickly walked towards the home, throwing the door open without care.

    Kōtarō wished you wouldn’t put yourself through this. You didn’t deserve it. He enters the living room, most of the arguing falling silent at his presence, already knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to get on them for their bullshit. Walking over to you, where you sat, slumped at the dinner table, your head in your hands, he frowns.

   He wasn’t surprised when he found tears in your eyes as he gently picked your head up to look at him. A frown befalls him, once again and he guides you to stand, pulling you into his embrace, his hand holding your head against him, practically cradling you.

   He holds you for a few long moments to let you calm down, before he turns towards your family, letting you go so he can take your hand. “We’re leaving. They’re tired.”

   No one argues. They’d seen how angry Kōtarō got when it came to you and they didn’t want to face the wrath of the angry volleyball player.

   Without another word from you both, or spoken to you both, Kōtarō escorts you out of the house. As soon as you’re out, you can hear the yelling ensue, once again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispers as he pulls you into him, once again. “It’s going to be okay.” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

   “I promise. We’ll go home and take a long bath... We can make some cookies and relax. We can even watch some Disney movies and make a pillow fort. How’s that sound, my sweet owl?” Kōtarō cooes as he begins to walk you to the car, smiling at you as he noticed how relaxed you seemed to be out, away from them and with your fiancé.

   No matter if he could help your family’s constant fighting, he’d always be here to whisper soft reassurances to you and make sure that everything was okay.

Oikawa Tōru:

Dating Tōru isn’t easy.

Living over 18,000 kilometers from one another was no easy feat.

Somedays are easier than others.

And this wasn’t one of those ‘easier’ days.

No, not at all.

Instead, today is one of those days that you tug on Tōru’s old volleyball jacket and bury your nose in the collar, hopping it’ll smell somewhat like him.

One of those days that you watch his dazzling face appear on the screen of your television and pretend he’s here with you.

It’s one of those days that you shoot him an ‘I miss you’ text and he’s unable to reply.

You both make it work because you love one another and want to watch the other succeed and do what they love.

But sometimes, it would be so much easier if you both lived on the same continent.

What you didn’t realize was that he hadn’t been to reply to you, because he was caught up getting his stuff off of the plane and into a car.

He was exhausted, but excited to see you.

He wasn’t expecting to come home and find you asleep on your couch, wrapped up in his jacket with dried tears on your cheeks.

Tōru dropped his bags at the door - he could worry about them later, right now he needed to get to you. With his signature grin, he walks through the kitchen, “Cutie,” he cooes through the apartment, before halting as he enters your living room, head tilting like a confused puppy’s would as he spotted you.

   His brows furrow and a frown crosses his lips, walking over to you and dropping to his knees in front of your sleeping form on the couch. He brings his hand up to gently stroke your cold cheek. “Y/N...” He cooes as he caresses your face, waiting for you to stir. Once you begin to open your eyes, a smile returns to his face, seeing your excitement overpower the sleepiness in your features.

   “You’re here...” You whisper, pushing yourself forward to hug your fiancé, no matter how unconventional this position was for you both. “I missed you,” you mumble into the soft cloth of his shirt, inhaling deeply. Peppermint. He always smelled like peppermint and it was a scent you had immensely missed.

   “I missed you too, cutie... But it’s okay. I’m here, now.” Tōru reassures, shifting so that he can scoop you up into his arms while you curl up into him.

   Not hesitating to want to fall asleep with you in his arms, once again, he brings you to the bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and pulling out comfier clothes for the both of you. Unpacking could wait later. Explanations of the vacation he was taking could wait. You being comfortable and in his arms was all he wanted.

   He undresses you, putting one of his shirts on you, before he undresses, as well, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, before he pulls back the covers and slides under them with you.

   Long, toned arms come to wrap themselves securely around you, pulling you into a tanned chest. “I missed you so much... But I’m here now, alright?” He whispers to you, kissing your head with a tenderness that only you got to see from the Argentinian volleyball player.

    “Go to sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up.”

    It was safe to say you fell asleep peacefully in his arms, finding peace in the fact that you’d soon be happily waking up in his arms.

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

[wtfevenismypage]

Maroon

request: Hey, could you do a Spence request where you're all at Rossi's mansion for the weekend for poker, pasta and cigars. Spence is getting Rossi's place ready with him, and the guys and won't shut up about how much he fancies you, and the guys all encourage him to tell you and you're at Emily's with the girls getting in the car for the weekend. They know how you feel about him, and how he feels about you. One evening, you're all super drunk and Spence blurts out his feelings for you. 🥰💕🥰

Warnings:Strong language, Pure fluffieness

A/N: This idea was absolutely adorable! I had a lot of fun writing it down!

Spencer wasn’t exactly subtle about his feelings towards you, anytime you were around, all he could focus on was you, the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed, the face of euphoria you made when you eat McDonald's after a long day, the frustration that exuded when you had a disagreement with Hotch (you’re the only one with the balls to argue with him) but he ended up ordering you to give up.

The only person on the team who didn’t know about Spencer’s love for you, was, well, you. You were too busy trying to keep your eyes off of him to notice his endearment for you. You had the same issue Spencer had, only you noticed how he tended to dart his tongue over his lips when he got nervous, or when he smiled at the sight of Henrey or Jack, the way he stuttered when he rambled around you, or the passion in his eyes when he talked about his mom.

Spencer didn’t exactly appreciate when the other members of the team teased him about his love for you, so when he got trapped with the men, getting ready for a party at Rossi’s mansion he tried to keep silent as to not drag attention to himself.

It didn’t work.

“I wonder if Y/N will wear a dress or a suit?”

Morgan spoke out, smirking at how Spencer’s cheeks turned bright red at just the mention of your name alone. 

“I think she’ll wear a dress, you know she loves them, even if she wears suits to work. what do you think Reid?”

Rossi asked, all eyes turned to a blushing Spencer who was making fruit punch. He was avoiding eye contact, stuck at the thought of you in a dress, or a floral suit you would wear to a bar, either way you were stunning to him.

“She’ll wear a suit, she’s more comfortable in them, a dress makes her feel too fancy, she admires the idea of wearing dresses, but she doesn’t wear them because she doesn’t want people to view her as too feminine for being an agent. So she’ll wear a suit, most likely a black coat with a floral dress shirt and floral pants.”

He didn’t even notice the wide smile on his face that slowly spread as he spoke about you. He was lost in thought until Morgan and Hotch’s laughs brought hime back to the present.

“Dude, you are whipped for her.”

Spencer’s brows furrowed, stammering as his voice goes up five octaves.

“Shut up Morgan! I’m not!”

“You are! You’ve been staring at her for years! Every time she’s in the same room as you you just stare like a lovesick maniac! I mean come on man! You gotta tell her!”

“Reid, do you love Y/N?”

Spencer doesn’t even know how to answer Hotch’s question. Did he love you? He knew he liked you at least, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit he was in love again. He hadn’t said it since Maeve... However, just by thinking of you again, he was sure.

“I do...”

--At Emily’s apartment (the girls)--

“I do! I love it so much! Thank you Penelope!”

Penelope had purchased personally designed dresses made for each of the women, yours was a simple, dark maroon silk dress, it ended right above your knees, flowing freely around your cleavage.

“I knew you would like it!”

“It kind of reminds me of that red suit that Spencer wore to Rossi’s party at that one bar that one time, remember that?”

The girls look at you confused, No one has ever remembered every outfit Spencer has worn, except for Spencer.

“You seriously don’t remember? C’mon! That was one of his best looks!”

“I beg of you just confess your undying love for him tonight.”

You click your tongue. The girls were more straight-forward with you than how the men were with Spencer, yes they teased you endlessly, but they also begged you to confess your love to him constantly. Sometimes they would even text you on the jet when you were sitting right next to him.

“Can’t. You see, Spencer’s an intelligent man, he would know that I’m lying.”

Groans all around the room. You, unlike Spencer, are great at hiding your feelings for the man as long as the man himself is no where to be seen. However if he was around, you became a rambling mess, Spencer just thought you were embarrassed that everyone was insisting you liked him.

“C’mon Y/N, you may be able to hide it when Dr. Genius isn’t around, but honey oh honey you do not see yourself when he’s around. You get all blushy and flustered and it’s adorable and it’s killing me that you won’t admit it!”

“I’m very sorry for killing you my dearest Penelope, but I can’t. Even if I did like him, which I don’t, I don’t even begin to compare to him in any way. He wouldn’t go for me if I were the last girl on earth.”

Your mood clearly decreased to a sad lump of emotion, your back slumping as you lean against a wall, looking down at your heels. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop loving him.

--At Rossi’s mansion (tha bois)--

“Oh my god we finally got him to admit it! You love Y/n Y/L/N!”

The men at Rossi’s mansion (which were somehow finished with getting the party ready) wouldn't stop messing with Young Dr. Reid. The poor man couldn’t even sit down without being teased.

“We finally did it boys! We got him to admit it!”

“Now we need him to tell her!”

That made Spencer’s head shoot up, confess to his friends that he loved you? Sure, why not. Tell you?

Abso-fucking-lutely not. He wasn’t even remotely ready for that. 

“No. No! I’m not doing that! I can’t! Hotch, tell them I can’t!”

Hotch chuckles at the state of the fully grown man, the usually calm doctor had literal tears staining his eyes as he begged Hotch to stop Morgan and Rossi. 

“Okay okay, leave Reid alone. The party hasn’t even started and He’s having a mental breakdown.”

A small ding rings out in the laughter of the men, Rossi pulls his phone out. 

“Looks like the ladies are on their way over, finally, apparently there was a tiny issue so they might be a tiny bit late.”

--In Emily’s car (the ladies)--

“Intoxicate me now, with your loving now, I think I’m ready now...”

“I THINK I”M READY NOW!”

You and the rest of the women aggressively shouted the lyrics to Toxic while on the way to Rossi’s mansion. After your half-assed love confession to your girls, you had a nervous breakdown and broke out in tears for a solid ten minutes. 

Penelope managed to get you up though, lifting your spirits with the power of Britney Spears. 

JJ’s phone rings, and she pulls it up to her ear.

“Hey Hotch! Her outfit color? Why? Yeah it’s maroon, how did you-”

She pulls the phone away from her ear, looking at the rest of the dancing ladies. Y/n and Penelope were screaming random song lyrics while Emily records it, chuckling at the scene unfolding before her. 

You weren’t even drunk yet and you were already excited, poker nights at Rossi’s were the best. He would select one person (occasionally two) to help him cook pasta, and cooking with him was super fun. Music would play in the background, making you drag random team members to the ‘dance floor’ and forcing them to dance with you. 

They did end up enjoying dancing with you however, but they’ll never admit it.

“We’re almost there!”

--Rossi’s mansion (the entire team)--

“Oh boys! The party has arrived!”

Penelope yells out as the four of you walk in, champagne and beer resting in your hands. The others were probably in the kitchen, sat at the island as Rossi gets the ingredients for pasta out.

“We’re in the kitchen!”

You follow the sound of music and laughing Hotch to find three of four male team members sitting down. Spencer was missing. His absence immediately smacks the smile off of your face, looking around blankly for him.

“Where’s Reid?”

Smug, shit-eating smiles spread across everyone’s faces as you set the beer down, grabbing a handful of chips from a bowl and shoveling them down your throat.

“Pretty boy’s upstairs getting dressed. You gonna go join him?”

You fake a gag as a blush crawls up your neck. They didn’t know how much you actually wanted to.

If only I could...

You smirk before sitting down next to Hotch, bringing your hand to his hair and ruffling it around, laughing as he grimaces. 

“Hotch, you should try new hairstyles. The ol’ sweep back look ain’t doing you justice.”

“I’ll wear my hair as I want to thank you very much. Now stop messing with it, as soon as Reid gets down here, he’s announcing who’s helping him cook.”

You giggle and pat the counter excitedly, looking at the ingredients Rossi’s pulling out.

“Those don’t look like ingredients for pasta Rossi...”

He looks up at JJ’s question, smiling with a wink.

“It’s not pasta. tonight we are making a classic Italian pepperoni pizza.”

‘ooooo’s and ‘aaaaaaa’s fill the room. Pizza sounded wonderful, especially considering all of the drinking you planned on doing tonight.

“We’re having pizza instead of pasta?”

Your head turned to the stairs to meet the excited voice of mystery. Your lungs froze as you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was wearing that damned velvet red suit that made you so excited.

It was as if the world had stopped when the two of you saw each other. He was adjusting his hair, but his hands pause when he sees you, he couldn’t stop the smile that spread when he noticed the colors of your outfits matched. It all clicked as to why Hotch and Morgan yelled at him to get back to his apartment to retrieve the suit.

Meanwhile you were struggling to tear your eyes away from him, you didn’t notice the matching velvet pieces, instead you noticed the stars in his eyes, the way he paused at the bottom of the stairs to smile at everyone, the happy smile that reached his starry eyes. 

Neither of you noticed how everyone else snickered, or how they actually pulled their phones out, it wasn’t until Emily was shaking your shoulder and Morgan smacked the back of his head that you two snapped out of it, acting as if nothing happened and simply looked back at Rossi.

“Yep. And my helper will beeeeeeeeee...”

His finger moves around the room rapidly, before landing on you.

“Y/N.”

Groans and clapping fill the room as you walk to the other side of the island, wrapping an arm around Rossi.

“Alright, now the rest of you. Out.”

You say. laughing as they all leave, but you miss the way Spencer’s eyes travel over your body a final time before walking into the room with all the cold drinks.

“Alright,” you start, looking at Rossi with a wide smile, “Let’s get started.”

-

-

-

-

-

almost twenty minutes later you and Rossi were putting the uncooked pizza in the oven, the hooting and laughing of already-drunken FBI agents making you and Rossi laugh.

“Y’know, I’m shocked that Reid decided to drink. He never drinks around us.”

You say, smiling while watching the pizza darken. More accurately, Reid never drank around you in fear that Drunk Spencer would say something dumb. Or worse, that Drunk Spencer would confess his love for you.

“Yeah that is pretty weird.”

Rossi looked at you, you were laughing while watching him, a wide smile on your face as Emily and Spencer dance drunkenly together.

“So, just between you and I,” You turned to meet Rossi’s gaze, watching his shit-eating smirk spread, “How do you feel about the kid?”

You freeze up at the question, letting it bounce around in your brain as you watch Spencer laugh happily. Your heart ached at the sound of his gorgeous laugh. Like, it physically hurt. 

“I love him... Oh god... I’m in love with him Rossi.”

You giggled a giggle of pure fear as you finally admit your love to yourself and to someone else. It felt scary, it felt so real all of the sudden. 

“You finally admit it huh? Well, you should go after him before some other girl who isn’t nearly as brilliant as you sweeps him up.”

You laugh and shake your head, doubt swimming in your brain.

“Nah. There’s no way he would go for someone like me. He has three P.h.D’s and is literally a genius. meanwhile I can barely remember what I ate last night. It won’t happen.”

Rossi sighs. How dense could the two of you be? You two were in love with each other, yet you were so fucking blind.

Meanwhile in the other room, everyone was trying to get Reid to confess his love to you. He was like a drunken puppy that tried his best to listen to commands, but just couldn’t.

“Just go up to her and tell her you love her! I’ll steal her away if you don’t.”

That was Emily. 

“Nooooooo! Don’t touch her! I love heeeeeeer!”

Spencer cried out from the floor. He was laid out like a starfish with an empty beer can in his hands. He didn’t know why he started drinking, but once he started, he couldn’t stop.

“Then gooooo!”

Spencer stood reluctantly, groaning as they all pushed him towards the kitchen.

You and Rossi watched in shock as Spencer ran into the kitchen, breaking out into tears when he met your eyes.

“Woah woah woah... What’s wrong Spencer?”

You ask, mama mode taking over at the sight of his tears. However you really weren’t expecting what happened next.

“Y/N!”

He yelled out before running into you, falling onto his knees before you while clutching your lower back and resting his head on your tummy.

“Wha-”

“I looooooooove you! ‘m in looooooooooooove with you!”

You froze up, not noticing how everyone was recording this from the couch, Rossi clamping a hand on your shoulder. You just kept petting his hair as he sobbed against your stomach.

“Hey, Spencer, bud, why don’t you stand up and tell her properly?”

He listens to Rossi’s advice, standing on his feet and grabbing your face in his hands before leaning in.

“What-”

He cuts you off with his lips, melding the two of you together as everyone cheers and claps. You were momentarily frozen, but you quickly kissed him back. You were eager to take whatever love you could get from him, even if he doesn’t remember in the morning. 

When he pulls away, you simply stare in shock as he tries to pull you away from the kitchen, your gaze flashes over to Rossi, who simply ushers you off with the young genius.

“C’mon! We gotta get out of here!”

You giggled and laughed the entire train ride back to Spencer’s apartment, cuddling in his bed the entire night.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen in the morning, you only knew that you were spending tonight in his arms.

“Hey Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

He smiles against your skin, pulling you closer against his bare chest. He was warm against your semi-cold skin, making you smile into his neck. 

You really didn’t want this moment to end ever.

[hualianff]

More Than This

Modern AU where famous actor HC and landscaper XL meet through a dating app. HC had a reputation of being a massive flirt who bedded people left and right, which wasn’t completely wrong–just blown out of proportion. His partners were usually other celebrities who mutually swore to keep their mouths shut in the preservation of their own images.

When HC received a message on the dating app asking about the brand of the wristwatch he wore in his profile pic (which only showcased his hands), the other user hoping to purchase a cheaper, similar style for his friend’s birthday, HC responded for the first time since downloading the app.

What could he say? The other man was gorgeous and if he were simply asking just to slide into HC’s DMs, the actor wasn’t opposed.

Turns out XL asked out of genuine curiosity. FX’s birthday was still a month away. Why XL thought about gifting him a watch similar to the one the stranger wore when XL should’ve been paying attention to the sheer strength those large hands seemed to possess was beyond him.

The name in the bio read: San Lang. The few pictures that were displayed on his profile were minimalistic yet downright sexy. XL blinked in wonder as he typed out another message, hoping to continue the conversation.

Two weeks after chatting back and forth through the app, XL asked if he could meet HC in person. The actor pondered this for a grand total of thirty seconds before agreeing to meet. XL seemed like a sincere character, someone who put other peoples’ comfort above any task at hand–if his emoticon overkill and frequent check-ins with HC were anything to go by.

HC figured he’d cross the bridge once XL recognized him as a well-loved actor starring in the hottest films in the media.

Except when HC arrived in his expensive jeep that screamed wealth, dressed in appropriate clothes for a hike with a baseball cap concealing his features from far away, XL did not have an aha! moment.

“Hello, San Lang! It’s me, Xie Lian,” XL waved as he bounced his way over. “I hope the ride up the mountain wasn’t too scary. You get used to it once you begin visiting more often. Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“It’s no problem at all. Nice to meet you, Xie Lian,” HC greets, guiding them away from his car as soon as he locks the doors, not wanting to draw any onlookers’ attention.

XL gives him a kind smile, adjusting the clasp of his bamboo hat. He explains that there are three main trails and he was thinking they could take the medium-level route. Judging from his white work-out T, jean shorts, and hiking boots, HC deduces that XL spends much time outside, even when he’s not gardening for his clients.

“Lead the way, Gege,” HC says, the title naturally falling from his lips. In XL’s dating profile, his age read thirty-two, just under three years older than HC. (This was followed by a dozen tree, flower, and water emoticons.)

“Okay! Onwards.”

Following their initial meeting, HC met up with XL numerous times after, attracted to XL’s mellow and eccentric personality. Whenever it was XL’s turn to plan their time together, he brought HC to different places each time. National parks, plant nurseries, museums–places that could be considered unconventional compared to the standard meetups from dating apps.

HC’s fondness for XL only grew because of this.

Their chemistry flourished in the bedroom as well, both HC and XL eager for giving and receiving pleasure. In addition to being fuckbuddies, they quickly developed a wholesome friendship that HC never saw coming.

But then again, this was XL. Once HC got a taste, his infatuation with the landscaper shouldn’t be surprising. HC stopped seeing his other speed dials after he met XL.

One of their nights ended by watching a film, XL mentioning off-handedly how he doesn't keep up with pop culture–including popular films–but his friend SQX had begged XL to watch this one. Of course, this had to be a film HC was in, one of his most recent projects. There was no avoiding the impending reveal.

They sit side-by-side on XL’s lumpy couch, watching the movie when XL gasps as the antagonist comes into view.

That is his San Lang! On the screen!

When XL pokes HC on the bicep, asking why the actor hadn’t told him, HC simply says that “My fame isn’t important to who I am.”

To HC’s surprise, XL accepts the answer without protest, nodding.

“San Lang is San Lang, who happens to be a marvelous actor,” XL solemnly says, flashing HC a delighted smile. HC hums in content, subtly repositioning his arm so it rested on the back of the couch, curling around XL’s shoulders.

Except after the movie ended and a google search later, XL finds out that San Lang isn’t San Lang after all.

“Should I call you Hua Cheng from now on? Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’ve been calling you the wrong name for three months now-” XL rushes out, guilt painted across his face.

“Gege, it’s fine. I used it as an alias for my profile to protect my identity,” HC explains. He reaches forward to tuck a long strand of XL’s hair behind his ear. “Besides, I quite like it when you call me San Lang.”

“Really?” XL sheepishly asks.

“Really.”

From that moment on, HC and XL clicked perfectly, learning more about each other when time permitted them to meet up. XL felt a little foolish for not knowing who HC was as a celebrity. But like HC said, his fame did not define him as a person, which XL clearly saw from the playful way he held himself when there were no cameras around.

HC matched XL’s enthusiasm in whatever activity they were doing, even if it was something XL’s previous partners couldn’t care less about. Eight months into their arrangement, XL finally admitted to himself that he had deep feelings for HC.

While they had great chemistry as friends, XL selfishly wanted more.

But how could XL ask for something more? They already agreed to keep things casual, to remain as friends who used each other to release their sexual urges. It didn’t matter how delicate HC cleaned XL up or always ran him a bath after their climaxes. It didn’t matter how HC always set out his clothes for XL to stay the night. And it didn’t matter how close HC held onto him as they slept.

XL was simply a landscaper with a passion for nature and helping others. He wasn’t built for the limelight. He was barely in the loop with societal trends, and only recently began watching the latest movies with HC–many of which HC himself acted in.

Frankly speaking, HC could have anyone he wanted. XL was the one who should be grateful HC even sought him out a second time.

XL is thirty-three now. He wanted to find someone to settle down with, to spend the rest of his life with, falling deeper in love with every single day. He was not sure HC, who was just entering his thirties and continuing to make a name for himself, would want something like that with someone like XL.

Even when every one of HC’s actions alluded that he truly cared for XL, XL had learned that hope was a dangerous thing to mindlessly cling to. XL has had past partners come into his life, then leave him like he was nothing, like none of him was worth staying for. XL didn’t think he could bear it if HC became just another name on that list.

Furthermore, XL didn’t want to put HC or his career on spot, nor put his heart in a position where it was bound to be broken.

As XL grappled with his perceived one-sided feelings, HC only allowed himself to yearn when laying on the bed in his penthouse. It was much larger than XL’s bed. It was also much lonelier.

HC was unable to grant XL the verbal confirmation of where they stood, held back by the weight of his status, which had always been his selling point alongside his hypersexualized image. Not only did HC not want to risk pressuring XL into pursuing a relationship with a celebrity, but somewhere deep inside, HC didn’t believe XL could want him for who he is–even after the year and a half they’ve known each other.

Much of HC’s self-worth had come from his accomplishments as an actor, untouchable yet fantasized by the public. Peeling back all the layers he hid behind, HC saw his true self as too ugly, damaged, and undesirable; phrases many people in his past have spat to his face, including his parents.

In HC’s mind, he had already tied XL down to their routine no-strings-attached meet-ups. While HC savored every moment he spent with XL, he didn’t want to further intrude on XL’s simple life and have the other man resent him in the end.

《II》

(Thanks to @no-one-says-hi for helping)

[nishiisenpai]

feelin insecure - bokuto koutaro, tendou satori

REQUEST: “hey so i went to the doctors today and found out that i went from 164lbs to 175lbs and it made me feel really insecure. could you do hc’s with bokuto and tendou trying to make the reader in this situation feel better? - @im-alyssa-btw​ “

A/N: omg i am so sorry that you’re feeling like that lovebug !!! i know how it feels to see your weight change and it isn’t the results you were looking for. that feeling must have hurt you and i am sorry once again that you’re feeling like that. 

but do not fret !!! you are beautiful or handsome- and no matter what your weight is currently atm, just know that it is just numbers and numbers should never define someone’s quality as a human being. 

if you ever wanna talk about any problems or issues you’re feeling, you got me here !!! number one hype lady to get you back and running with some confidence !!!

side note: apologies for writing this months??? later, school is really kicking my ass atm so im currently stressing and crying cause of the workload :p - besides the point, i hope these headcanons bring you joy and happiness and maybe a bit of self confidence too !!! 

-

WARNING: insecure, self-judgement, downgrading yourself

WHO: Bokuto Koutaro x Reader , Tendou Satori x Reader

FORMAT: Headcanon!

-

bokuto koutaro

mood:

it’s like a sudden wave of discontentment weaved through your whole body the moment you saw the numbers on the scale. 

you tried really hard to hit your goal but it just couldn’t quite make it there or come close. 

so you come home feeling sad and down, but try not to show it- although your boyfriend bokuto can see it right through you.

if you’re sad, he gets sad. it’s canon, ladies, gents and captains.

physical touch:

i feel like bokuto would be the type to have physical touch as his way of comforting you. 

like touching you physically is like a god sent for him.

he loves everything about you.

please- all the insecurities you get would be mostly wiped away by him.

he’s like a ball of sunshine.

oh you have an insecurity over your stretch marks? 

not anymore, he thinks of them as battle scars against a past life war opponent and it shows that you are worthy, strong and powerful. 

oh you don’t like the way you have extra thigh pudge when you wear thigh high socks? he thinks of them as soft pillows for his head to lay on when you run your hands through his hair.

like this man will make the negative thoughts about yourself turn into a positive feeling/outcome.

he’s definitely the type to shower you in kisses. 

he’ll most likely kiss your insecurities away.

he enjoys patting your thighs ever so often

squishes your cheeks a lot to give kisses to them or just to suck onto them to create the pop sound.

holds you in place.

SIT ON HIS LAP

SIT ON HIS LAP

SIT ON HIS LAP

sweet lord, bokuto LOVES, ADORES, freaking GUSHES over when you sit on his lap. 

a ton of roaming of his hands on your body because this man seriously can’t keep his hands off of you. 

other comments:

okay so if you’re not the type to find comfort in physical touch, he will definitely keep that in mind as he tries to hold back for you.

if you don’t wanna be kissed, hugged or cuddled, he would probably find building a pillow fort fun

going out for ice cream 

or snoozing on the couch watching some boring documentary would be ways to cheer you up.

if those options don’t work out, he will just spurt out compliments every minute or so like: wow, you are gorgeous.

“sheesh, how did i get so lucky?”

“you are an angel.”

“my princess~”

“baby, did you know that kuroo is punching the wall rn cause he doesn’t have you, and i do? HAHA A WIN FOR ME AGAINST THAT ROOSTER HEAD!”

god this man is head over heels for you. 

i kid you not, he probably falls asleep and wakes up thinking about you and you only.

he will try to be sneaky and stealthy about surprising you with little gifts or snacks or flowers too (depending if you’re allergic or not).

i can imagine he loves doing big things for you, but if you’re not really all in for that, then he does the littlest things to make your day. 

OH ONE MORE THING.

IF YOU EVER. 

AND I MEAN EVER.

DEGRADE YOURSELF IN FRONT OF THIS MAN-

ISTG YOU BETTER PREPARE YOURSELF.

THIS MAN WILL JUST BE WILDING.

he would go feral or become the most upset man-child there is to existence. 

so please don’t do that to him.

-

tendou satori

mood:

the weight scale became your biggest enemy. 

every time you looked at it, it just pained you to see the numbers going (up/down) without much change to your original goal. 

you tried really hard to the point it affected you mentally. 

thankfully your boyfriend tendou came to the rescue :O

physical touch:

i would also like to believe this man is a another person who would use physical touch as his comfort to you.

though his way of expressing it will be depending on your mood, unlike bokuto who will immediately just go for it.

tendou would know his boundaries on places where to touch because he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with his actions, especially after you had gone to a place that documents your insecurities.

so the times where he is allowed to comfort you through physical comfort:

he will most likely cradle you like a baby

hug you while rubbing your back up and down

draw shapes, happy faces or even speak out complimentary words to calm you down

link pinkies or hold hands

give you forehead kisses

he wants to share as much affection as possible to you

he also loves kissing your knuckles or the back of your hand because he finds that action super cute.

playing with your fingers is also another thing he does

other comments:

this man is very observant and smart

so he thinks of plans immediately in situations where you do not want to be physically held. 

he likes purchasing gifts, but finds homemade items even better.

this man also makes chocolates on his spare time, so he is BOUND to bring you some even if you insist that you don’t want some, he’ll force feed you till you accept his offer.

he also likes giving his hoodie to you too???

like this man likes seeing you in your comfortable state because you look so cute and cozy.

he likes holding deep conversations with you. 

whether it be about your future plans/goals or what your next meal may be. 

he just wants to be a big part of your life so that you know you can depend on him whenever you need him with you.

also let’s all be honest. tendou would never judge you. he accepts all kinds. 

after the stigma and trauma he’s received for being called a monster, he hates when people judge others off of their appearance.

so do not worry- dear reader,

you are loved.

-

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