#the teachers wouldn’t mind and in fact one of them told me she prefers a good thesis in December than one meh in the real date

[thetorturedlovergirl]

So I think I finally decided to hand in my thesis in December instead of on Thursday because my mental health can’t keep up with everything that is happening and I’m suffering kind of a lot heh.

I mean idc if I get a bad grade because I know I can get a good one after. I had a rough year and I think I prefer being able to correct things on my thesis before handing something that could get me a meh grade.

This is my pride and joy, my baby, and it deserves a time to shine.

[morgannalefey]

Copied and pasted from a Fb post (link at bottom)

Didn’t want to highjack the recent peacock post which is my second favorite peacock story of all times so making a new post of my favorite peacock story which should really be named the peacock apocalypse soundtrack .

Zookeeper Problems The Great Flamingo Uprising

indirispeaks:

I told this story to a few guildies a while back and decided to archive it in a longer format; so here is the story of The Great Flamingo Uprising of 2010 as told to me by my favorite cousin who was a keeper at the time.

In addition to the aviary/jungle exhibit, our zoo has several species of birds that pretty much have the run of the place. They started with a small flock of flamingos and some free-range peacocks that I’m almost certain came from my old piano teacher’s farm. She preferred them to chickens. At some point in time they also acquired a pair of white swans (Or as I call them, “hellbirds”) and some ornamental asian duckies to decorate the pond next to the picnic area. Pigeons, crows, assorted ducks and a large number of opportunistic Canada geese moved in on their own.

Now; the ponds that dot the zoo property (I don’t remember how many there are but the one by the picnic area is the only one with swans) were also full of ginormous koi fish, some of whom by now are at least three feet long. Sensing an opportunity to cash in on the koi, the zoo put up little vending machines all over the place that dispense handfuls of food pellets. I swear to god the fish can hear the crank turning, and will show up at the nearest railing, blooping expectantly at whoever happens to be standing there and doing their best to appear starving and desperate.

And they weren’t the only ones who learned to associate the sound with the imminent arrival of food. The Canada geese knew a good deal when they saw one, and had long since ceased to migrate anyway. They formed roving gangs of thug-geese and staked out their turf around the vending machines, ready to mug anyone with pocket change. Picture yourself as a small child squaring off with a bird fully prepared to strip search you while standing on your feet and yelling “HWAAAAAKK!!” in your face. It’s traumatizing to you and deeply hilarious to your parents.

Anyway.

The flamingos had their spot near the zoo entrance and never seemed to mind the presence of the other birds, as they kept themselves to themselves and didn’t really like the taste of fish pellets. The problem lay in that their shrimp pond was close to a vending machine. Ordinarily that wouldn’t have been an issue at all, but eventually the goose population grew large enough that one of the gangs decided to annex it. Being territorial little shits, they would harass the poor flamingos any time they strayed within ten feet of it. The flamingos tolerated this for years until one day they snapped collectively. Here’s a summary of the incident in chronological order.

1.) It was a hot day, so everyone in question both human and avian, were cranky by the time the zoo even opened.

2.) A few flamingos (let’s call them The Jets) strayed into the radius of the vending machine and were immediately confronted by the indignant hissing geese (The Sharks)

3.) Possibly due to heat and the simple fact that the geese had been giant douchebags for far too long, the flamingos decided fuck it, this time they were going to FIGHT BACK DAMMIT, and swarmed the geese en mass.

4.) Chaos ensued. The geese were outnumbered 4 to 1 but had the advantage of being able to scream for back-up.

5.) Hearing the shrieking Canada geese and the bellowing of the enraged flamingos, the peacocks came to the conclusion that the apocalypse had come upon them and began to gather in the surrounding trees in droves and wail in despair. Or cheer them on, whichever.

6.) NOISE

7.) Apparently one of the siege tactics employed by the geese is to shit explosively all over the sidewalks. Never in the grass.

8.) The geese, having secured reinforcements from all over the zoo, went berserk and proceeded to attack EVERYBODY who had come to watch be they human or otherwise.

9.) The flamingos were chasing/being chased by the geese through the crowd accompanied by cheers/wails from the peacocks in the box seats.

10.) Complete pandemonium when the zoo tram became stalled on the tracks by the flamingo pond due to battling birds. The Jets, sensing these were somehow reinforcements on the side of the Sharks, charged the tram. Adults were doing the duck and cover. So were the ducks. Small children were screaming, adding to the noise. People were slipping on goose shit and hitting the ground in the fetal position, only to be stampeded by the rampaging flamingos.

11.) The koi continued to bloop hopefully for food.

12.) Two of the geese were cornered by a rival gang of their own and were chased into the swan pond. Cue slow-motion.

13.) The swans detected an enemy presence in their territory and by god, SOMEBODY was going to PAY.

14.) The staff were having no luck in breaking up the fight and on the verge of giving up and just building another zoo elsewhere when the hellbirds stormed the battlefield, trumpeting battle-cries, to dispense feathered justice. The staff promptly dropped their brooms and fled.

15.) The uprising was squashed in less than two minutes. Number of casualties was unknown, feathers were flying everywhere and there was enough goose shit to build another bird. One staff member had been knocked to the ground and was left with a melon sized bruise courtesy of one of the hellbirds. Several children were traumatized, probably for life. The zoo eventually removed the vending machine by the flamingos.

The geese went back to being giant douchebags. Because geese.

I guarantee you this is the best thing you’ll read all week.

[jasontoddiefor]

A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

[winterxisxcomingx]

Ciel didn’t like it.

That age and here he was in a public school, full of all kinds of people that he did not want to talk to.

And it was all because of his psychiatrist. Because, now, suddenly, he thought that it was a good time to let Ciel socialize with his peers. As if.

His trauma wasn’t that light.

And he didn’t like people.

And schools.

And talking with people at school.

Bloody hell.

Before that he had only private lessons, and he was okay with that. He could learn a lot and talk with teachers. He didn’t want to change it.

But yeah, his life sucks.

・。.・

It wasn’t even a full month, and he already was known as a “nerd” and a “dwarf” and oh, that one was sooo good “You wouldn’t even be a good pirate with your height, smartass’! How clever! Because trauma wasn’t all that he had to deal with after his past. He also didn’t see on one eye, more, he didn’t even have a eyeball. So he hides that with an eye patch.

But really, it was ridiculous.

And there also was that one girl with a blond hair, that was so eager to be his friend.

And what for?

Or maybe she just wants to use him. Whatever. He prefers her company than those kids, his “bullies”. Because of course he would get his own pack of bullies.

Lovely.

・。.・

...So maybe she didn’t want to use him after all.

Or at least not in a way he thought she would.

She never asked to copy his homework, never asked to write essay for her, never- just-, she just didn’t use him for his knowledge. For his “nerdness”.

And now the two of them were sitting in his room, studying for their english exams.

It's quiet.

When he first met her, he thought that her lips never stop moving. But she can stop. She can be calm and she can focus. She can talk a lot, but also be quiet, when she sees that he needs it. Elizabeth learned quickly how to read him.

Weird.

Weird, because he wasn’t like an open book. People usually had troubles with guessing his moods.

But she did not.

And it was making him warm.

Lizzie was now sitting on his spare chair, next to him, reading Chemistry book.

And Ciel thought that she looks like a doll. Perfect, clean skin, those angelic green eyes and focused expression. He realized, for the first time since they met, that she is actually pretty.

...

He did not have that thought just now. He erased that thought.

Anyway, at their breaks, they talk. Mostly, it is Elizabeth talking and him listening, He didn’t mind.

“Elizabeth-” He started, but she interrupted him without a second thought.

“I told you it’s Lizzie! L i z z i e! Please, Ciel, all my friends call me that!” She pouted, her nose crinkled, hearing him saying her full name. She put her head on her joined hands that lay on the table, and was looking at Ciel from her position.

He felt like his ears are getting red.

“Am I one of your friends?” He asked uncertain, because... was he? He didn’t think about it. After a while, he just accepted Elizabeth as a part of his daily life.

...

Elizabeth as a part of his life. Interesting thought, that he won’t focus on.

“Of course!” She raised her voice a little, for which she was immediately scolded. She apologized and continued her thought, just now a little quieter, “I mean, you know all my favorite flowers and colors and stuff.” She said as a matter of fact.

It was embarrassing.

“I know it, because you’ve told me that.” He tried reasoning. She sounded as if he did something big. Something meaningful, and it wasn’t true.

“And you still remember them! That means you listen!” Her expression was serious as she took his hand in hers on the table.

They were holding hands on the table. In a library.

What a thing.

A thing that was making him blush. A lot.

“Elizabeth, it’s a public place...” He tried, but she only looked at him. The girl squeezed his hand as if telling him, I'm not letting you go that easily.

Ah, now, even his neck feels warm.

He sighed, then look into her eyes. And on her lips, because she was smirking at him. Why. Was it that funny?

He knew what she wanted. It was silly, really. But also... He couldn’t just say it.

He felt as if he does that, that weird connection between them will be sealed and there will be no coming back.

Did he want to do that? Take a risk?

He glanced at her eyes, full of determination and tease. And their hands. His hand in hers. In a hold. It was a nice feeling.

Okay.

“Lizzie.” He whispered, and Lizzie squeaked, standing up and hugging him across the table. “Aww, Ciel you finally said it! My nickname sounds so soft coming from you. I love it. I’m so happy!” She beamed right into his ear.

Lizzie was a person, who was very open about her emotions.

It won’t be easy to be friends with her.

(not when she can so easily make him blush and... make his heart beat faster?) But he is willing to try.

He thinks, that maybe, it will be worth it.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. 

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them. 

Or… begging him to take them out on a date. 

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life. 

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it? 

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness. 

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her. 

She did everything he asked. 

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much. 

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt. 

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night. 

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter. 

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever. 

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him. 

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand. 

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful. 

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that. 

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex. 

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly. 

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices. 

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit. 

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking. 

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul. 

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial. 

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive. 

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface. 

But there was still hope. 

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him. 

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious. 

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk. 

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso. 

“But, you know what I find even funnier?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning. 

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!” 

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed. 

“Is how much of an idiot I am.” 

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt. 

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.” 

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him. 

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths. 

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk. 

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.” 

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties. 

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.” 

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her. 

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs. 

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin. 

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this. 

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did. 

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…” 

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out. 

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way. 

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned. 

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling. 

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead. 

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it. 

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath. 

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat. 

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal. 

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth. 

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.” 

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips. 

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was. 

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change. 

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met. 

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips. 

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…” 

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him. 

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…” 

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo. 

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo. 

It was Bakugo. 

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship. 

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden. 

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips. 

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~” 

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.” 

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands. 

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind. 

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…” 

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face. 

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes. 

“You’re so fucking adorable…” 

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth. 

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform. 

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.” 

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands. 

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie. 

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together. 

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of. 

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones. 

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily. 

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders. 

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.” 

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal. 

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure. 

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside. 

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton. 

He needed to change that. 

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth. 

“Don’t move.” 

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat. 

“Just… trust me.” 

She didn’t. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth. 

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky. 

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?” 

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft. 

“I’m joking…” 

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his. 

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.” 

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body. 

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[darling-i-read-it]

Hug

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Danis grief and the things that come with that (crying, heaviness) 

Author’s Note: this was not on my list of things I wanted to write and yet 

I feel held by him okay 

Summary: You and Pelle meet through Dani and Christian (man I suck at summaries) 

Song: Run by Hozier

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

(not my gif)

Dani liked you. She liked you a lot. You made her feel sane and that helped her in more ways than one. She liked the fact that you would always listen to her and tell her that she was right, even when she was wrong. She liked that your eyes never once flitted away from her when she spoke. She liked that you understood her grief in a way that most people would never try to. 

She almost had no desire to introduce you to Christian. She loved Christian, she really did, but you didn’t need to meet her boyfriend. 

Dani thought, even though you did appreciate her that you would never understand the way that he loved Christian. Maybe she didn’t even understand it. 

In any event, she wouldn’t be able to explain in an adequate way. 

But still, you pushed.

You were hanging out with her, in her room. She was walking around the room numbly, trying to understand why her head never seemed to be wrapped around the room when people were speaking. A sorrow was still hanging over her. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. You were sitting on her desk, watching her anxiously pace back and forth. 

“No.” She stopped walking. “I’m sorry, that was blunt.” You shook your head. 

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want,” you told her evenly. Dani walked up to you and sat down at the chair in front of you. She felt a little more clear headed with you. It helped to be around people sometimes. Tears started to well up in her eyes but she quickly shook them away.

“Christian has been distant lately. I don’t know how to tell him I still need him without being...needy,” she said, avoiding your eyes.

“He should understand.” You gave her a narrow look and she sighed. 

“Yeah yeah. I know you wanna meet him.” 

“I just wanna learn about this guy who supposedly has absolute zero ability to read his girlfriends moods.” She sighed.

“You wanna meet him? Alright. You can meet him. But his friends will probably be there and if you don’t wanna-”

“I’d love to meet his friends as well. You can tell a lot about a person based on the company that they keep.” 

====

“This is Y/N. Y/N this is Christian, Mark, Josh and Pelle.” You shook their hands, a kind smile on your face. Mark eyed you for a second longer than he should have and you weren’t sure how to feel about them as a whole. A very basic group of boys that may not be all that they seemed. You were all at Christians place which was dirty. Clothes were on the floor and most of his books were strewn around. There was food on the kitchen counters. 

You ignored your initial thoughts and waved slyly.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you all.” Truth be told, you didn’t know much about any of them but Christian. You barely knew their names to faces. 

“You’re the only friend of Dani’s we hear about. You go to school here too right?” Josh asked. You nodded.

“Yes. It’s how Dani and I met.” Your eyes looked around the four of them and surveyed their expression. The man at the end, Pelle, had a very neutral and soft looking expression on his face. You admired him immediately. 

But you ignored that so that you were able to assess Christian better. 

“Now Christian, I think it’s about time I teach you how to treat your girlfriend,” you teased gently and the guys raised their eyebrows. Mark patted Christians back.

“She’s got her guns out. How are you going to respond?!” Mark asked loudly. Christian was laughing and so were you but you had been serious. He was a terrible boyfriend. If they had classes on how to be a decent boyfriend, you would force him to take them, for Dani’s sake. 

“You’re Dani’s friend which means you are my friend,” he said finally. Your lips twitched and you nodded slowly. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” 

“No, thank you though.” Dani sat down at the living room area and the boys quickly followed. Her and Christian were on the love seat, Mark in one of the chairs and you, Pelle and Josh on the couch. You were sitting beside Pelle on the left. 

He smelled good. 

“How is school treating you?” he asked. You turned to him, pleased to hear that his voice was as soothing as he looked. He had an accent you couldn’t place - you were hopeless with accents. 

“Well! At this rate, I should get through finals with only a few scratches here and there,” you told him. 

You could hear that Mark had asked Christian a question and they were having a conversation off to the side. 

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good, just about as good as you. I wonder, maybe if we have any teachers in common,” he suggested. You nodded. 

“It’s entirely possible. What are you studying?” 

“I’m in the Anthropology department.” 

“We may overlap. I’ll have to check your schedule.” 

Dani gave you a look but your eyes were not on her. She couldn’t distinguish what you and Pelle were saying because your voices were so calm while the other boys were booming. She was only a few feet away and still...whatever you were laughing about was lost on her.

====

You didn’t stay long. Dani and you had to get back so that you were able to study for finals. And by that, it was usually you studying with her in the room so she had someone to keep her in check. You didn’t mind. 

“You and Pelle seemed to get along well,” she noted. 

“I was there to make sure Christian seemed like a decent human,” you told her. 

“And?” You thought about it for a moment and she was right. You had talked to Pelle almost exclusively. 

“Pelle was really nice,” you conceded. She laughed gently. At least you were able to be honest with her. 

“I think he likes you. He’s a Swedish exchange student, if he didn’t tell you.” 

“That’s where the accent is from! It was bugging me. I was about to start speaking to Google,” you said laughing. She rolled her eyes playfully.

“You could have just asked him.”

“I didn’t know if it was inappropriate!” 

======

You ran your hand through your hair as you walked around your little apartment. It had about everything you could ever need and you loved it. Dani was sleeping on the couch you had managed to squeeze in. 

There was a knock at your door. 

You checked the clock on the wall and furrowed your brows in confusion. It was still pretty early in the day. You had to go to class soon.

You opened the door and Pelle stood in front of you, a kind smile on his face. 

“Pelle! What a nice surprise,” you whispered. He looked confused as to your whisper and you opened the door enough to show Dani sound asleep. He nodded understandingly. 

“I hope this isn’t inappropriate,” he said, in the same hushed tone.

“No, no. Although I do have to go to class soon. What is it?” You leaned against the doorframe.

“I thought our conversation the other day was really nice.” He paused for a minute, thinking over his words. You waited patiently. “I would like to take you out for coffee.” 

You were a bit surprised that he had come all the way to your apartment to tell you that. You assumed that Christian had given him the address. He had it so he knew where Dani was, she had given it to him. 

“I would like that very much. Although, you could have just called,” you said smiling.

“I prefer in person. I think it’s more personal.” You nodded but turned around, grabbing a pen off of your desk. You grabbed his hand and scribbled your number onto his palm.

“For when you want to tell me where to meet you.” He smiled and nodded once, pleasantly. 

“Until then.” 

“Until then.” 

====

Pelle called you that night to tell you where to meet him for coffee. You were pleased and excited. Dani woke up the next morning when you were getting ready to leave. It was Saturday so you didn’t have any classes to attend and you figured you were due a break from studying. 

“Where are you going?” she asked groggily. You cleaned up your bed and turned to her on the couch.

“I have a coffee date,” you said honestly. 

She raised her head up off the pillow and rubbed her eyes.

“Oh?” You nodded, fixing your hair in the mirror. You looked yourself over and nodded nervously at yourself. You looked good. You hoped it wasn’t too much for just a coffee date. “Care to share who it’s with?” 

You sheepishly looked at her through the mirror. 

“Pelle,” you said quietly. She laughed heartily. It was the first time you had heard her actually laugh in weeks. 

“Pelle?” 

“Yes. Go back to bed. I’ll probably be back before you get up.” She laid her head back down. 

“Have fun at your coffee date!” she called but her voice was muffled by the pillow. 

====

“Yes! I told Dani that but she doesn’t believe me. I don’t know, I think maybe we’re all a little too hard on her.”

The coffee date was going swimmingly. Pelle was funny and he was also able to give you good advice. You were amazed at his kind heart.

As for his feelings for you, he loved you. Dani had spoken about you and your kind heart before but he never thought you would be like this. He never thought he would love you this much so instantly. You were charming and honest and there was some quip left in you. He admired your qualities and was pleased to find that you liked him as well. 

He could never be sure but he thought you may like it back at his home. 

“You’re being a very good friend. Better than most,” he said honestly. He reached a hand forward and laid it on your hands which were sitting on the table. Both of your cups were empty. You looked down at his hand on yours and attempted to suppress your emotions. 

“Thank you Pelle.” 

You moved your hands apart so they were holding his hand between them. He smiled a bit, sheepishly. 

“I really enjoyed this.”

“I did as well.” 

You were very pleased to hear it wasn’t one sided. 

You both stood up and started for the door. His hand still held yours. It was within walking distance of both of your homes but in opposite directions. Before parting he turned to face you. You smiled up at him, trying your very hardest to not let him know how much you had enjoyed the date. 

That was when your phone rang. Your smile fell and you had to know who it was calling. 

Dani. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry. I will wait.” 

You picked up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“I-I need you.” She was crying. She didn’t like to ask for help so this must have been serious. You nodded stiffly.

“I will be there in a couple minutes. Hold on,” you said kindly. You hung up the phone and turned to him. “Dani needs me, I’m sorry.” He shook his head and before you could say another word, he was hugging you. 

You had thought he might kiss you but this was almost better. It was almost for sure better than a kiss. His arms engulfed your body and held you tightly. He was wearing a soft sweater and it felt so nice against your face. He smelled like herbs and trees. You hugged him back, tightly. He had his hand on the back of your head and he gently kissed your shoulder. 

He pulled away ever so slightly and kissed you softly. You had to pull away to smile. 

“I’ll see you soon Pelle.” He nodded and you were about to walk away when he strengthened his hold on you. 

“Mark, Josh, Christian and I are going to take a trip back to my home in Sweden for the summer. Dani will likely be invited too. Would you like to come?”

[dudeandduchess]

Love your writing! Can we get a history teacher AU? Maybe with some NSFW 👀 fellow teacher y/n always had the hots for Rengoku-sensei but never had the courage to say anything until one day, on his birthday, she finds him alone grading papers and everything just comes out

Hope you’re doing well!

Hey, bby! I’m doing well. Hope you like this one. ❤️‍🔥

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: After School Hours (Smut, Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Warnings: Smut, Semi-Public Sex (Library), Clothed Sex, Birthday Sex, Food Play (Body Icing)

Read part 2 here.

***

(Y/n)’s hands were so shaky as she tried her best to get herself from the faculty room, down to the library on the second floor. To say that she was frazzled and nervous would have been an understatement, as she had chosen that day to finally confess her feelings to the enigmatic History teacher— Rengoku Kyōjurō.

She had always harbored feelings for the blond, ever since she had first started at the academy. And even though the other teachers always kept teasing them about being too close to each other— as well as the other women telling her that he liked her— she still held on to the possibility that they were wrong.

After all, it was better to expect the worst; so that she wouldn’t be that disappointed when she received the truth.

The closer that she got to the library, however, the harder that her heart began to pound in her chest. And the more that she began to think that she shouldn’t be so bold.

She had even thought to turn back immediately, only to be plagued by thoughts of her regrets haunting her once she got home. (Y/n) didn’t want all of the ‘what-ifs’ from this one choice to haunt her forever.

After all, the worst that he could do was to thank her and give her a friendly hug.

At that thought, she quickly shook her head— clearing the worst case scenario from her mind— before pushing her legs to walk faster to the empty library.

She only knew that it was empty after having seen Kyōjurō stay there after class on most days. He would grade papers until the school closed down, instead of taking his work home with him.

And after asking him once why he preferred the library, he told her that it was the perfect place to do work; all because the students who did have tiny crushes on him never thought to check for him all the way at the back of the place.

‘Oh gods, I may just be worse than those students,’ (Y/n) thought in a panic, almost dropping the cupcake in her hands. But she managed to right herself at the last second, taking a deep breath in through her nose and exhaling it from her mouth.

“Okay, calm down, (Y/n).” The young woman tried to soothe herself, even going as far as to close her eyes for a brief moment, before stepping inside the library as quietly as she could.

One foot in front of the other— she kept making her legs move, until she was at the end of the aisle that led to the tables at the back of the library.

And right there, in all his handsome glory, was Kyōjurō— pen being twirled between his fingers, and eyes focused solely on the paper in his left hand.

Gingerly, (Y/n) fished the lighter from her skirt’s pocket and lit the tiny candle that she had stuck in the middle of the cupcake; one she’d baked the night before, and decorated with so many intricate designs— all for him.

“Rengoku-sensei,” She called softly, her voice even cracking at his name. Yet it had the blond looking up at her— eyes widening a fraction of an inch, while his lips curled up at the corners.

Kyōjurō felt absolutely flustered.

Especially when (Y/n) walked forward with the cupcake, eyes solely on him to block out the nerves that were trying to consume her.

Thankfully for her, he met her halfway; standing right in front of her, and turning all of his attention towards the woman who made his heart race— in the best way.

“Happy birthday, I baked it just for you,” (Y/n) managed to breathe out softly, before holding it up a little higher for him.

And her heart almost leapt out of her chest when Kyōjurō reached out with his right hand and gently wrapped it around her wrist— holding her shaky hands steady, as he leaned in and blew the candle out.

“Thank you, (Y/n)-sensei. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” Kyōjurō stated with a grin, even as his eyes momentarily flickered down to his co-teacher’s plump lips.

He was naught to admit it, but he had racked up so many nights just fantasizing about those lips on him; on any part of his body.

At first it had started as a simple crush for him, but it had evolved into something else; something much deeper than simple attraction. However, what the other male teachers had told him was that she already had someone she liked, so he had held himself back from confessing his own feelings.

Which was a surprise that she even sought him out on his birthday, when he fully expected her to have gone home with everyone else— as he wanted to finish work before celebrating with his family.

“I wanted to…” (Y/n) answered quietly, before swallowing past the lump in her throat and coming out with it. “Because I like you, Rengoku-sensei. I like you so much that I can’t get you out of my mind- and I- just… I want you!”

Mortified couldn’t even begin to describe just how (Y/n) felt at that botched confession. She could even feel her shame washing over her in waves; making her face and ears red, especially when she looked up and saw nothing but surprise on Kyōjurō’s face.

Instead of pushing her away like she had expected, the blond calmly took the cupcake from her hands and set it down on the table. All before closing the space between them, and staring right at her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that he looked a little… excited.

Gone was his exuberant attitude, and in its place came something much more attractive; a million times sexier than his usual persona.

“That’s great, (Y/n)-s… chan. Because I like you too… and I want you just as bad.” Kyōjurō finally admitted, feeling his own pulse racing as he gently cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to press his lips to hers.

When (Y/n) didn’t try to pull away from him, Kyōjurō decided to be a little more liberal with his touches; pulling her flush against his chest, before awkwardly spinning both of them around, so that he could sit her down on the table.

Thankfully, they had missed the cupcake entirely. Because a lightbulb just went on in his head, as he gently wedged himself between her thighs and began to caress her soft skin.

With every pass of his hands up her thighs, he pushed the hem of her skirt up little by little— making no effort to hide what his intentions were.

“I’ve always liked you, (Y/n).” A gentle kiss to her lips, before dragging his lips down to her neck and sucking on it. “And I’m so happy that you have the same feelings.”

If it was any other woman, Kyōjurō never would have touched them. But it was (Y/n), and he had been holding himself back for two years; that alone was torture for him, so he couldn’t keep himself from indulging in her immediately.

Before either of them could comprehend it, (Y/n) was already on her back on the table, with Kyōjurō kissing down her exposed chest and his fingers circling around her clit.

All the while, (Y/n) was in such bliss that she couldn’t even muster up any coherent thoughts. All she could do was moan and mewl as Kyōjurō kissed her all over.

When he pulled away for a bit, however, she was brought back to reality; keen eyes solely on him, as he reached over and swiped a little bit of the cupcake’s icing on his index finger.

Initially, she thought that it was weird for him to stop for a taste of that, until she realized his plan when he dabbed the icing on both of her nipples.

It was a little bit warm, but it was made all the warmer when Kyōjurō wrapped his lips around her right nipple; licking and sucking on the hard bud, while his index finger circled and teased the other one.

“Rengoku-sensei!” The young woman moaned out, one hand delving into his hair and curling into the soft strands. But Kyōjurō didn’t relent; not until her back was arching and her legs were wrapped around his hips.

It was obvious that she was cumming, and it gave Kyōjurō an all-time high at feeling her come apart beneath him. Especially since he wasn’t even inside her yet.

When she was calm and spent beneath him, the blond pulled away from her right nipple— making quick work of licking her left nipple clean— before pecking her lips.

“Do you want more, (Y/n)?” He asked with a grin, feeling his cock throb in his pants at how beautiful she looked post-orgasm.

He expected her to refuse, but was pleasantly surprised when she shook her head. “Please give me more.”

“Good girl.” The praise had just slipped out and made his lips tingle, but he paid it no mind as he quickly undid his belt and pants to pull his cock out.

Then, as gently as he could, he pulled her ass to the end of the table before pushing her skirt up all the way; groaning aloud at the sight of her panties being so soaked with her cum.

What made it better for him, however, was the fact that she was wearing red lace. As if she had worn it just for him.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though— cock twitching with need, as he fully pushed the crotch of her panties aside and rubbed the tip of his dick up and down her slit.

“Please, sensei, no more teasing,” (Y/n) whined quietly, which only spurred Kyōjurō to give in to her.

So, slowly, he dragged the head of his cock all the way to her entrance and pushed inside her tight cunt. He almost buckled at how heavenly she felt around him, but held firmly to her hips before bottoming out in her.

His pace was gentle at first, getting her used to how thick he was, before beginning to really pound her against the table. He pushed in hard and fast, milking his own pleasure and adding to it by watching her expressions.

Because, it was guaranteed, that his current reality was better than all of his fantasies combined.

And it was made all the better with how he watched (Y/n) lose control— especially when he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and held on tight to her ankles.

He just hoped that marks wouldn’t show up later, since he still had plans for both of them; mainly taking her home to meet his family.

***

BONUS:

After everything was said and done, with Kyōjurō’s cum slowly trickling out from (Y/n)’s cunt, he pulled her up to his chest— hugging her tight and pressing butterfly kisses to her neck. “You should get dressed, (Y/n). We have to go home with me.”

“But… why?” The young woman was confused, but she was too boneless after getting thoroughly fucked that her question fell flat.

“So that my family can meet my girlfriend, of course.”

“What? We just- I’m- Rengoku-sensei!” That had pulled (Y/n) out of her stupor immediately. Then, she hissed at him, “I’m still full of your cum! I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“I can lick it clean for you.” Kyōjurō was joking, he really was… at least at first. But he thought that eating her out wouldn’t be so bad. So, they stayed just a little bit longer in the library; much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

[siswritesyanderes]

Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

[whitesparrows97]

Love is a foolish thing

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x female reader

Warnings: drinking of alcohol, swear words, angst, mean people, jealousy, minor injuries, explicit sexual content including oral (female receiving, indication of male receiving), fingering, light spanking, little bit of dirty talk, protected and unprotected sex

Genre: Strangers to friends with benefits to lovers

Summary: Falling in love… it sounded so simple. Falling. Like one wrong step, a small stumble and you were deeply in love. But there was nothing easy about love.

Word Count: 20K

Note: My tumblr nearly crashed while trying to post this story because it’s too long. I really have no idea how that happened, I just couldn’t control myself. So nothing new. But what is new is the banner. This is the first time I created one (goodbye using gifs from tumblr) and I really hope you like it. (The gif of van Gogh’s Starry Night is not mine and I found it on giphy. The picture of Taehyung he posted himself when they were touring in Berlin.)

Also a little disclaimer: English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes! I’d normally split a story this long into chapters but because this is a story for the btswritersclub fic exchange, I decided to post it as a oneshot. I really hope you’ll like it @taetaesbaebaepsae !

intro: new beginnings

He felt the thumping bass throughout his body and welcomed the tingling sensation on his skin with a wide grin as he pushed his way through the crowd. His gaze slid over the countless faces as he passed them; most of whom he had seen before on campus or at previous parties.

Faces were what he could remember.

The bone structure of the face, how their hair framed their face, their facial expressions… These were all things that could not be easily changed and what made a person unique. No matter how much they changed, dyed their hair or cut it off altogether, wore a lot of makeup or none at all – there was something that didn’t change, no matter how hard they tried. And that’s exactly what Taehyung saw in people, which was why it was easy for him to recognize people, even if he had only run into someone once in the hallway. 

For a long time, it had felt like a curse to Taehyung. Nowadays, he knew how to use that gaze to his advantage. It helped him especially in his studies and his art teacher had praised him more than once for having that special sight.

There was one thing, however, that he had a lot of trouble with.

“Hi, Taehyung!” A young man appeared in front of him, shouting against the loud music. 

Taehyung shifted his gaze down to look the shorter man in the eye. The young man grinned at him, a bit wryly and a red plastic cup in one hand, which judging by his already glazed look was not his first cup of the evening. 

He put on a smile and nodded. “Hey…” 

Names were the thing he just couldn’t remember, for the life of him. He was glad he knew his best friend’s name after all these years. Even if every now and then he found himself thinking before it thankfully came back to him. It was frustrating to know so many people, to recognize them, but to have forgotten what their name was. 

Taehyung didn’t wait for an answer, but with another smile apologized to the young man in front of him, who had already started moving clumsily to the music again. Taehyung doubted that he even noticed that Taehyung had disappeared. 

He gave a wide berth to the area in the center of the room that had been chosen as the dance floor this evening and instead kept close to the walls. From there, he could get a rough idea of who all had come to this party on a Thursday night.

Despite the loud music, he could hear the loud voices, buzzing conversations and peals of laughter. Here and there, yelling mingled in. The first visitors to the party were already clinging to the shoulders and upper arms of their friends, which were the only reason they were still standing upright. 

Taehyung shook his head, laughing softly when he saw this. He hadn’t been that late; a glance at his watch showed him that the party had only started a little over an hour ago. But it was summer, which meant that the semester would soon be over. And with that came all the exams, so Taehyung couldn’t blame anyone for needing time off from studying. 

As he looked over the various groups of people, his gaze lingered on a face he didn’t recognize. 

Intrigued, he slowed in his walk. 

He frowned and his smile disappeared as he looked at you intently from head to toe. His father had once described this facial expression as his “artist’s expression”. When he was so engrossed in a painting or drawing that he didn’t notice how his eyebrows drew together and deep wrinkles formed in his forehead. Even now he could hear his mother scolding him that the wrinkles eventually wouldn’t go away anymore. 

When he had explained to her that wrinkles told more stories than words ever could, that they were charismatic, she had shaken her head with a smile. 

Taehyung’s gaze lingered on your lips, which had formed into a relaxed smile as you listened to someone talking to you. Min Yoongi, his best friend and a music student in his final semester.

Taehyung didn’t know what the two of you were talking about or if you knew each other, but you seemed to get along well.

He continued to watch you for a brief moment before you seemed apologetic and then disappeared towards the kitchen with your cup in hand. Determined, Taehyung walked towards his best friend and when he was only a few feet away, Yoongi looked up. 

“Hey,” the older of the two said, nodding at Taehyung. He took a sip from his cup and let his gaze roam the room, just as Taehyung had done moments before.

“Hi,” he greeted back, eyeing Yoongi for a moment. “Who was that?”

Yoongi laughed into his cup and shook his head with a grin. “You must know everything and everyone, don’t you?”

Taehyung shrugged, but didn’t contradict him. “I just like to get to know the people I study with.”

Yoongi snorted at his statement. “Even if I told you her name, you’d forget it in half an hour anyway.”

Taehyung couldn’t object to that either. It probably wouldn’t even take half an hour. Sometimes Taehyung felt as if names went into the one ear and right out the other without even a brief stopover at his brain. 

“You know,” Yoongi began, raising an eyebrow, “women usually aren’t too keen on being called by the wrong name by mistake. Just a little advice.”

Now Taehyung was the one who snorted. “Thanks, you seem to know a lot about that. Should be a little careful with your new girlfriend. Just a little advice for you,” he repeated Yoongi’s statement and Yoongi grinned.

For a moment there was silence between the two men. Only the loud, booming music and the buzz of voices filled the pause between them. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi then suddenly said, “her name is Y/N. She studied in another city before and came to this university for her master’s.”

“What did she study?”

“Why don’t you ask her that yourself if you’re so interested?” 

Taehyung raised his glass, which was almost empty anyway, downed it in one gulp and made his way to the kitchen where you had disappeared to. 

. . .

“So you’re Y/N. Right?” Taehyung didn’t show how proud he was that he had been able to remember your name. 

You nodded and waited for him to introduce himself. “Well… Are you going to tell me yours or do I have to guess?” you asked after a short silence when he kept studying your face but no words came out of his mouth.

“Oh, sure,” he blurted out, startled by this question for a second, “I’m Taehyung.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his hand twitch, as if he wanted to shake your hand and you had to stifle a grin. 

But Taehyung had seen the corners of your mouth move upward. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked, holding a hand to his heart in feigned hurt. 

“No, no,” you placated him, but any further attempt to explain was interrupted by your laughter rising inside you. Taehyung looked at you through narrowed eyes for another moment before a grin spread across his face as well.

You liked his smile. You noticed it right away, even though you had only been talking for a few minutes. 

Your gaze lingered on his lips for a moment too long and when you looked back into his eyes, his grin had widened even more and there was an amused glint in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. 

You had to avert your gaze and let your eyes wander around the kitchen. You didn’t know what it was, but his gaze made you nervous. It was intense. As if he was looking right through you.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked, bringing you back from your thoughts. 

Instead of giving an answer, you took his hand and led him back to the living room. 

The dance floor had not emptied in the meantime, rather the opposite was the case. By now most of the guests at the party were crowding onto it, so that the entire room had become a dance floor. And even the people who were standing on the sidelines and preferred to watch the spectacle from a distance were persuaded to dance. 

You made your way past sweaty bodies until you finally found a place where you could move a little more freely. The song that was playing was energetic and fast – and while the other people around you were jumping up and down, singing along loudly and off-key to the lyrics, Taehyung surprised you when he put an arm on your waist and pulled you close to him.

The two glasses of alcohol you had already drunk were slowly but surely making themselves noticeable. A pleasant warmth flooded through you as you felt Taehyung’s strong hands on your hips, moving you to the beat of the music. That, and the fact he smiled at you whenever you locked eyes made your heart beat a little faster. 

Especially when his thumb drew little circles on the small sliver of bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. The air was stuffy and sweaty, but at that moment you didn’t mind it one bit. 

Taehyung leaned forward and your breath hitched when his lips touched your ear as he said, “You’re beautiful.”

You waited with your eye roll until Taehyung had leaned back again, so he definitely caught your gesture. Immediately, his eyebrows shot up. 

Now it was up to you to lean forward. “Can’t you think of anything better?”

Taehyung thought for a moment, and if you hadn’t felt his hand on your lower back, pulling you closer and closer to him with each movement, you would have thought he was completely lost in thought. 

But then you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up as he tried to suppress the grin. 

Again he leaned forward toward you, but this time he didn’t speak directly. Instead, you first felt his lips against the shell of your ear, and then gasped in surprise as he gently bit your sensitive skin. The deep, throaty laugh that followed sent jolts of electricity through your veins. 

“I could also say that you look incredibly hot and caught my eye as soon as I arrived.” 

You were completely stilled in your movements and the hand that had been on your hip before had crept up to your neck. His slender, long fingers danced on your sweaty skin and your eyes fluttered closed as you savored the sensation he and his fingers were causing. 

You almost forgot about his lips against your ear, which made you flinch as Taehyung spoke the rest of his sentence. “And none of it would be a lie.”

When you opened your eyes again, the hand had disappeared from your neck and resumed its place on your hip. You didn’t speak a word, your looks said enough. And when your eyes wandered lower for a moment and came to rest on his lips with that mischievous grin, the outcome of the evening was sealed.

. . .

Your back hit the wall behind you and you let out a soft “Oh” in surprise. Taehyung took the opportunity and his tongue slipped between your open lips into your mouth. You moaned as he explored your mouth, which spurred Taehyung on even more. 

His hands traveled down your torso, down your sides, and finally grasped your hips. Then he pulled you tighter against him so that you were locked between him and the wall behind you. Even though you didn’t feel locked in at all. You hadn’t felt this free in a long time. 

Your hands reached out between your two bodies on his torso, and you felt the muscles under his shirt twitch as your fingertips brushed almost delicately over sensitive areas. His lips turned into a grin before he kissed you passionately again. 

His fingers wandered lower and finally wrapped around one of your thighs. They dug pleasantly into your flesh, making you hum contentedly. With a sudden exclamation of surprise from you, he lifted your leg and the moan you both gave as your hips met was muffled when your lips crashed into each other once again. 

But it wasn’t just his hips you felt against yours. You felt him hard, right between your legs as he circled his hips against yours. 

He wandered his mouth along your jaw first before kissing down your neck. “You are so receptive to my touch,” he said softly, but in the otherwise silent room, his voice sounded loud and clear. His hot breath tickled you, making you shiver as Taehyung ran his tongue along your neck. 

“Sorry,” you laughed softly when you shuddered again as his tongue explored the contours of your collarbone.

His grip around your hip and thigh strengthened before he let go of your neck and straightened up. He released one hand and gently stroked your hot cheeks with it as his gaze darted back and forth between your eyes. “You never have to apologize for being sensitive to touch. That just tells me I’m doing everything right.”

And how right he was. 

“Do you have condoms?”

Your question made him pause, and a second later he gently let your leg slide back to the floor. He seemed to think for a moment, an index finger pressed to his lips before he stuck it up in the air as if he had a sudden idea. You watched as he walked toward the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. He rummaged around in it for a moment, and you grimaced as you thought about Taehyung digging around in other people’s things.

“Bingo,” Taehyung exclaimed, reaching into the drawer and tossing a package onto the made bed. “Unopened,” Taehyung added as he turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow. 

“Don’t be mean,” you said, but had to smile as well. His smile was contagious. “Just be glad the person doesn’t seem to be having that much sex… it’s to our benefit right now.”

“That,” Taehyung countered, “or that’s a new pack because he just fucks a lot.”

You couldn’t hold back your grunt when you heard his statement, that’s how dryly he said it. “Whose room is this, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung said and looking around for a moment. 

You didn’t need to check, because you couldn’t have known the person. It could even be Taehyung’s room for all you knew. You didn’t even know who the host was at that party. A girl, Grace, from one of your seminars had approached you yesterday and invited you. You hadn’t seen her all evening and wondered if she had shown up yet.

With slow and deliberate steps, you walked toward the bed in front of which he stood. As you came to a stop in front of him, you noticed his frown in the dim light. “What is it?”

“I hope you don’t think of me as being unprepared or expecting us not to use contraception.” He held your gaze as if he were watching every little emotion in your face. “I didn’t plan on doing this tonight, so I didn’t come prepared.”

Your hands wandered up along his sides, feeling the muscles under his T-shirt. “So,” you said softly, looking back up at him, “you don’t do this kind of thing often?”

A mischievous grin had stolen onto his face in return. “Occasionally,” he admitted with a shrug, “but probably less often than you’re thinking right now.”

You were about to reply something when suddenly the door was yanked open behind you and the music from the living room could be heard more clearly all at once. Surprised, you turned around.

“Oh,” a guy laughed when he caught sight of the two of you. A girl stumbled into him as he stopped so suddenly in the doorway. 

“This place seems to be occupied,” the girl laughed now, too, eyeing the two of you. 

Her boyfriend – or acquaintance – also caught her glance. “Or are you two interested in–”

“No,” Taehyung said firmly, before the other could fully ask his question. He stepped out from behind you and it only took a few long strides before he arrived at the door. “We’re not. Thank you.” With those words, he pushed them both out of the room and closed the door. “Shit,” he muttered.

With nimble fingers, you opened the box of condoms and grabbed one before heading towards the door as well. Taehyung had leaned forward and seemed to be examining something on the door. Or rather, something that wasn’t there.

“What’s wrong?”

He straightened up again and made a head movement toward the lock. “There’s no key.”

“Okay?” you asked, “Is that a problem?” Your fingers gently stroked his upper arm, squeezing it once firmly, and Taehyung understood. He raised an eyebrow and the next moment he spun you around and your back hit something again, this time it was the door. There was a dull thud as your back hit the wood and you felt it give in from Taehyung’s strength. You just hoped it would hold for the next few minutes…

“Not at all,” he whispered in your ear and you bit your lower lip to stifle the wanting moan that almost fell over your lips. You closed your eyes to fully concentrate on Taehyung’s lips, his teeth which left red and blue marks on your sensitive skin. 

Your eyes fluttered open in surprise, however, as Taehyung’s lips suddenly disappeared and he slid down to the floor so that he was kneeling in front of you. His eyelashes cast long shadows in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and absentmindedly you brushed his hair out of his face. 

“I know I’m repeating myself and that you don’t want to hear it, but you’re so beautiful.” His long fingers found their way under your top and every little bit of skin he bared was covered by his lips a short time later. What remained was heat – heat that coursed through you and eventually accumulated in your abdomen. 

You were about to pull him back to his feet by his shoulders when his fingers found your jeans button and a moment later you heard the opening of a zipper. His hand found yours, which was still clinging to the condom as if it were an anchor and which he took from you before guiding your hand to his head. As you looked down at yourself, fingers buried in his hair as if you’d done it umpteen times before, your eyes met. 

Lust and mischievousness were in his gaze, the smirk hidden from your perspective, but you saw the glint in his eyes as he pulled down your pants along with your underwear. 

. . .

“And then he went down on me.”

“He what?” Grace looked at you in surprise.

You cleared your throat. Your cheeks were warm and you tried to avoid her curious gaze. “He went down on me.” 

You wanted to end this conversation as quickly as you could. You didn’t even remember how Grace had talked you into telling her about last Thursday in the first place. But Grace had pestered you for so long, until you finally caved in. She had seen you disappear into that bedroom with Taehyung, which was why you couldn’t deny anything. 

“Oh. Wow.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, trying to downplay the subject. With a little more force than necessary, you shut your laptop and shoved it into your backpack. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You bet it is,” she whispered-shouted, earning a few scowls from the nearby students. She quickly apologized to them in a softer tone. “You bet it is,” she repeated, quieter this time, as you walked toward the library exit. “No guy does this on a one night stand.”

“I’m sure there are some.”

“You wouldn’t give a blow job either, would you?” she completely bypassed your argument. 

The door slammed shut behind you and you took one deep breath. You loved the fresh evening air in early summer… especially when you had been sitting in the stuffy library for hours. Even though some loved the smell of the old books and dusty paper, it mainly caused you a headache and the unspeakable pressure before your next exams. 

“I’m just saying,” Grace continued to explain, “you can’t be sure if the person is clean.”

“I am clean,” you muttered, feeling a little affronted. “I told him that beforehand.”

“On the other hand, yeah, he can wear a condom I guess. Hmm…” 

For a moment, you wondered if you were in a parallel universe, where Grace was walking the path to the dorm alone and therefore not responding to you. But then she turned around and looked at you with waggling eyebrows. “Did you come?”

“Grace,” you sighed, wanting the questioning to stop. Instead of answering her, you countered, “I should have just ignored you those few weeks ago when you sat down next to me in the seminar.”

“And would be alone to this day? That would be so sad.”

You rolled your eyes. “At least then I wouldn’t have to let you pepper me with your questions.”

“True again,” she said with a shrug, “but then you wouldn’t have anyone to brag to about the great sex you had either.”

You said nothing in reply, but kept your gaze firmly focused on the building a few hundred feet in front of you. 

“Or miserable sex we can make fun of?”

That elicited an annoyed groan from you, and finally a shake of your head. “First of all, we don’t make fun of anyone at all, no matter how good or bad someone is in bed.”

“Okay, Miss Diplomacy.” A pause arose and it amused you to see Grace growing more impatient by the second. “Okay and so what? So was he good?”

Sighing, you nodded, “Yes, he was.” Before Grace could clap her hands in delight, you quickly added, “I didn’t come, though.” The words came out of your mouth faster than normal. 

She just snorted, though. “Then trust me, this won’t be the last time.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “We both agreed that this will be a one time thing.”

“Well, look at it this way,” she began, and with a beep, her student ID was confirmed and the glass door to the building slid open. “Did he notice you didn’t come?” You nodded. “Then he’ll certainly have the urge to prove himself all over again.”

You thought for a moment, letting Grace’s words run through your mind. “Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t because of him.”

“Then what was it about? Couldn’t you relax?”

You nodded again. “The whole situation was unfortunate,” you began to explain in more detail. “I felt like someone was going to burst into the room at any moment and–” You bit your lip, trying not to say the rest of the sentence.

Grace gave you a meaningful look. “And?”

You had arrived outside your room and nervously played with your key card. “It’s just…” Ringing for words, you looked down at the floor until you finally looked up in frustration. Grace looked at you patiently, seeming to notice how hard it was for you to talk about it. “He was so… gentle.”

When Grace heard that, she had to grunt.

“Hey,” you countered, smacking her on the upper arm. 

“Ouch.” She grimaced as she rubbed the sore spot. “Would you have preferred him to be rough?”

You tilted your head and considered. Grace laughed when she saw that.

“I’m just saying,” you said, now serious again, “No one night stand I’ve had has tried this hard. I guess, I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all.”

“Then why don’t you talk to Taehyung,” Grace replied, still a grin on her face as she walked backwards down the hall to her room, “Maybe he won’t try so hard next time.” You could still hear her giggling, even as she disappeared around the corner and out of your field of vision. 

. . . 

falling into habits

Taehyung moaned and thrust deeply into you one last time before coming to a stop inside of you. He braced himself on his forearms to avoid crushing you under his weight while you both caught your breath. Silently you lay in Taehyung’s bed before he finally reached between your bodies, held the condom tightly, and pulled out before finally rolling off of you. 

He didn’t bother to get up and dispose of the used condom, just tied it together, lazily wrapped it in a tissue, and rolled back onto his back so that he was lying next to you. 

For a moment you lay like that next to each other, completely detached from the world that was going on outside Taehyung’s apartment and instead in one where only the two of you existed. 

But then you picked yourself up with a discontented sigh, and awkwardly climbed over Taehyung, who made an attempt to hold you by the waist. Laughing softly, you batted his hands aside and a second later your bare feet came into contact with the carpet. 

Your fingers found your panties and quickly you slipped them back on. So did your jeans and your T-shirt. You glanced back and saw Taehyung still lying naked in his bed, on his stomach now, while the bedspread covered his lower half. Your gaze slid down his trained back nonetheless, and you bit your lips as images of the last few minutes popped into your head. Or rather hours, as you silently cursed when you glanced at your phone. 

You heard Taehyung laughing tiredly behind you. “Why’re you cursing?”

As you continued to gather the rest of your things, you briefly glanced over your shoulder back at the bed. Taehyung had turned his head so he could watch you. 

“I’m late,” you explained to him, stuffing your belongings into your bag, which you unceremoniously slipped on. 

Taehyung groaned and buried his face in the pillow. 

“Can’t you skip it and stay here instead?” His voice sounded muffled and you wanted to go back the few steps to run your fingers through his tousled hair. 

But you couldn’t.

“I’ll see you in a few days.”

“That’s not soon enough,” he whined and shook his head. 

“I think my group would kill me if I didn’t come to the meeting. Besides,” you added a little louder, worried that Taehyung would fall asleep otherwise, “I’m already grateful to them for accepting me into their group in the middle of the semester in the first place. I don’t want to cause any more inconvenience.”

You heard only a displeased murmur from Taehyung’s direction and threw a quick goodbye into the room before leaving his apartment. 

The walk to the campus took you half an hour, even if you hurried. However, you could use the time well to reflect on the last weeks. 

After your conversation with Grace, it had only taken a few days for you to receive a message from an unknown number. Yoongi had given your phone number to Taehyung through Grace – which Grace had commented with an “I told you so” – and a day later you had met up. 

This time hadn’t been at a party, but at his home, and quickly one thing had led to another. You hadn’t even taken a seat on the sofa properly before your lips had crashed into each other.

You had never talked about where this was going with you – and if it was going anywhere at all – but for now you were pleased with how easy everything was with Taehyung. You were on the same wavelength, he made you laugh, and the sex was good. Great even. That’s all you needed right now. And honestly, that’s all you wanted right now. Relationships meant drama and in the end at least one person got hurt. 

Out of breath, but fairly punctual, you arrived at the workroom where you had arranged to meet your group. The others were already there, but no one seemed to mind that you had arrived a few minutes late.

You spent the next two hours putting together the topics you had worked on and writing them into the presentation. You had been surprised when you first met and found out that everyone had done their work. You worked hard and expected the same from others, and as you had explained to Taehyung, you were glad that the group had accepted you at all. 

After all, by then well over half of the semester had passed, and in the beginning you had inevitably set the group back in their schedule. While the others had already been working on comparing the similarities and differences between their novels from The Modern Period, you had been reading your novel and gathering notes at lightning speed so that you could now sit together and pretty much finish the presentation. Each of the four of you would still have to write your own essay, but you knew you could do that in two to three days. You had all the information, so all you had to do was put it on paper. 

Relieved and satisfied, you sighed as your bones cracked when you stretched your arms high above your head and arched your back. 

“Wow, we really got something done today,” Toni said, visibly satisfied as she scrolled through the presentation one last time. 

An approving nod went through the group and Thomas also closed his laptop with a quiet click. 

“Do you want to join us for a drink?” Mia looked at you through her delicate glasses, which she pushed back up her nose with an index finger.

You didn’t have to think twice, because you were happy about any invitation. So a smile spread across your face before you nodded. 

Conversations and laughter accompanied you down the stairs and you were so engrossed in a conversation with Toni that you didn’t notice the person waiting in front of the entrance of the building. It was only when you heard your name called out to you that you turned your attention to the person. 

Taehyung, you realized with surprise.

“Hi,” you greeted him, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, “what are you doing here?” 

“Hey you. I thought I’d pick you up.” He had both hands buried in the pockets of his sweatpants and had thrown on a hoodie to protect himself against the coolness of the summer evening. 

You took the few steps back to Taehyung, noticing at the edge of your awareness how the others’ conversations had fallen silent. 

“Pick me up? For what?”

Taehyung shrugged. “Yoongi and Grace invited us. I think they both wanted to watch this new movie that started in theaters a few days ago.”

“Oh.” You looked over your shoulder at the others and saw the three of them glance quickly to the side before your eyes could meet. 

“Oh?” Taehyung repeated, taking his hands out of his pockets. Some disappointment spread across his face, as if he had expected a different answer. 

You heard a “Is that Kim Taehyung from Fine Arts?” and a “Fine he is definitely,” which made you pause for a moment. 

“Well… I uhm, I actually wanted to go out with the others. They just asked me if I wanted to join them.” You pointed your thumb over your shoulder to the group, which had now started whispering quietly. 

“Ah I see,” Taehyung said and his grin was back when he heard that, “So you’re making friends?”

“Taehyung,” you said, your voice sounding more whiny than you had intended. 

“It’s all good,” he laughed and before you knew what was happening, he had put an arm around you and pulled you against him for a moment. You froze, surprised about the sudden public display of affection. 

His perfume was still in your nose even when he had already let go of you and taken a step away. “Have a nice evening then. Text me when you get home okay or need someone to pick you up. I’ll stay awake until then.”

And without further ado, he smiled at you again before walking past you. As he passed the group, he waved to them and again wished you a good evening. You watched as he grew smaller and smaller in the twilight of the evening, the farther away he got, before finally disappearing behind a corner. 

All evening you couldn’t get his grin and the scent of his perfume out of your mind and nose. And more than once you wondered if it would have been better if you’d made a different choice. 

. . .

what am I to you?

The apartment door was yanked open, revealing a beaming, smiling Grace. 

“Hello, you two,” she greeted you with a sly smile before stepping aside, thus allowing you into the apartment. “Did you find your way here okay? When I first came to Seokjin’s apartment I got lost.”

You kicked your shoes off your feet and whispered a “thank you” at Taehyung as he took them from you and placed them neatly next to the countless others. 

“Sure,” he answered Grace’s question, straightening up again. 

In the narrow hallway, he looked huge, as if his shoulders were almost touching the two walls. You could only see his back as you walked to the voices that seemed to be coming from the living room. Music was clearly audible playing over the stereo, but quiet enough that you could talk without having to shout. You couldn’t deny the slight nervous tingle that had formed on your skin. 

Your eyes fell on Taehyung’s hand. You would only have to stretch out your arm a little and then your fingers would touch his fingertips. 

Your arm, which had lifted slightly on its own, fell limply back to your side. You kept your hands to yourself, even though nervousness was spreading through you. Like a balloon, it inflated before bursting as you stepped through the door into the room. Ten, twelve faces looked up as the three of you entered the room. You were relieved that there was no big fuss about it, but the others greeted you briefly and then continued in their conversation, which you had interrupted. 

You took a seat on the sofa next to a girl you didn’t know. But she looked nice.

Unnoticed, your eyes followed Taehyung, who took a seat at the other end of the sofa and returned Yoongi’s handshake. The two of them jumped right into an animated conversation. 

You were so focused on the two of them that you didn’t notice the look the girl next to you was giving you. Until she finally cleared her throat and you winced, caught and startled. 

“Sorry,” she smiled apologetically at you, “I didn’t quite catch your name. What’s your name again?”

“Y/N.” You had to clear your throat as only a croak came out at first. “And what’s your name?”

“Emilia, but feel free to call me Emmy.” She gave you another genuine smile, which you returned. Even your last bit of nervousness fell away from you as you lapsed into pleasant small talk over the next few minutes. 

It got even easier as Grace placed a glass of freshly mixed cocktail in front of you on the coffee table and dropped to the floor at your feet. You were all the more relieved to have her by your side and not have to answer every question, but to sink into the back of the sofa for a moment and just follow the conversation.

Inevitably, your gaze slid to Taehyung and it surprised you when your eyes met. 

When Taehyung saw this, he grinned at you. You had talked on the way about how awkward it was for you that he knew all the other guests and you knew no one except for him and Grace, and a bit of Yoongi, though mostly from Grace’s or Taehyung’s stories.

That’s why you could interpret his grin well. You knew what he was going to say, even if you didn’t have a chance to talk right now. 

“See, it’s not so bad.” 

You had spent so much time with him the last few weeks that you could practically hear his deep voice in your head. A warm feeling spread through you, even when he had already averted his gaze and was absorbed in talking to Yoongi again. 

That’s how the hours of the evening went by. 

You played a never-ending round of Uno, in which you didn’t come last (you preferred to hide the fact that you came second to last), and other card games. No drinking games, which you were happy about. No forcing to drink so everyone could drink what they liked, when they liked. 

At one point, Taehyung and Grace had switched places and you got all hot as he leaned against your shins. Him and Emmy knew each other since the first semester, as you found out. It made you feel weird, knowing that they knew each other for years, while the both of you only met a few months ago.

Nonetheless you enjoyed the evening, and feeling so protected by Taehyung that you didn’t even look at your phone every few minutes out of habit. Therefore, you had no idea what time it was. Only the slowly emerging tiredness told you that it was probably time to go home. 

You knew you would sleep well that night. Maybe you would spend the night at Taehyung’s place too – this would be a first. 

However, your good mood was abruptly over with one, harmless sentence.

“How do you two know each other anyway?” Emmy looked at you with interest and at first you were perplexed, so surprised at this question that you just sat there stiffly. 

Most of the others were engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice this awkward situation. Because what were you supposed to answer? You were not together. You didn’t even know if you wanted to and you had never talked about it in the first place. It had always been kind of clear that there was a sexual attraction between you – but something beyond that? 

You couldn’t answer that. 

Your gaze flickered to Taehyung for a second. Why didn’t he tell his long time friend about you? She didn’t even know your name… Had Taehyung never mentioned you to his friends before? 

You were just getting ready to speak, to make a not very explanatory statement, when Taehyung beat you to it. “We met at a party.” He reached for his glass and took a sip while making a hand gesture between the two of you. “We haven’t known each other that long, just for a few weeks.”

Emmy raised her eyebrows as if she’d expected a different answer – and she wasn’t the only one. She gave you a small smile and turned to Seokjin, who was sitting next to her and, as you had learned that night, was not only the host but also the entertainer of the evening. 

You turned your gaze from Seokjin and Emmy back to Taehyung, who was talking across the table with another young man whose name you had already forgotten. It had been too many names for one evening. But what surprised you a little was how quickly Taehyung had pushed the subject aside. 

Was that all? 

You hadn’t known yourself what you would have answered, but you were sure it would have been more than Taehyung’s answer. Something else. 

For the next half hour, you were exceptionally quiet, which Taehyung also noticed. He turned to you and squeezed your knee once, almost affectionately. “Are you tired? Do you want to go home?”

You nodded silently, barely able to look him in the eye. What was wrong with you? As if two sentences had tipped your mood 180 degrees. From one extreme to the other…

When you stepped into the cool summer night, you took the opportunity to take a deep breath. The alcohol and the heat in the living room had clouded your mind. That had to be it. 

But even on the way home – to your apartment – your mood didn’t seem to lift. Taehyung’s jokes and casual comments, which would normally make you smile, were exhausting at that moment and you were about to tell him that you could walk the rest of the way on your own. 

Then he suddenly stopped as if rooted to the spot and you had to walk a few steps back again. For a moment there was only silence. In the distance you heard shouting and laughter and the occasional car passing you by, bathing you in its warm yellow light. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

A simple question. No simple answer. So you just shrugged your shoulders. “Nothing, why?”

He clicked his tongue in displeasure. “You know I hate games like that.” Even in the darkness, you could see how his lips were pressed into a straight, stern line. 

Immediately your heart sank at the sight, making it even harder for you to find an answer and voice your thoughts. Instantly, you wished you had pulled yourself together for the last forty-five minutes. Instead, you were now in a situation you couldn’t easily get out of. At least not without completely throwing your principles overboard, and you just weren’t ready for that yet.

You turned your gaze to the ground and heard Taehyung sigh. A moment later, he took a step closer so that his shoes entered your field of vision. As his hands clasped yours, you flinched, not expecting the sudden touch. An argument was more what you had expected. 

“Hey, look at me, please,” he asked, this time in a softer voice. When you did just that, his gaze searched yours, as if trying to read all the answers from your face. But you knew your face was just an expressionless mask, not reflecting the chaos inside you. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?” You stayed silent. “Huh?”

You avoided his gaze and let your hands slip from his grasp. The disappointed look on Taehyung’s face escaped you as you searched the sidewalk for an answer. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

That made you look up. “I don’t need your help.” You winced at how cold your voice sounded. But you felt pushed into a corner. 

He frowned at your statement. “Okay…” he said and buried his hands in the front pockets of his pants. The hands that had held yours a moment before. He studied your face as if thinking about whether to say the next part or not. Then, “What do you want from me then?”

The question made your heartbeat quicken. 

Behause you had no real answer to that. Therefore, you just shook your head. 

Taehyung mimicked the movement. “What kind of answer is that, Y/N?”

You shrugged your shoulders and Taehyung sighed, gradually annoyed. 

“I feel like I’m talking to a wall right now. And to be honest, I’ve had that feeling for a few days now.”

You had to swallow.

“We’ve never worked out what this is between us,” he began, hesitating briefly, “but maybe it’s about time we talk about it.”

“Why?” Pleadingly, you looked at him. “Why can’t it stay the way it is right now?”

“Because of this.” He made a hand gesture between the two of you. “Because it’s not good for you or for me. I, I have–” He sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “I’m just afraid that you and I have different intentions.”

“Different intentions?” you repeated, confused. What was that supposed to mean? “Well, you’ve made it more than clear tonight how you see things between us.” 

Taehyung raised both eyebrows when he heard that. “What do you mean?”

You rolled your eyes. Did you really have to explain to him now what was bothering you? “Emmy didn’t even know who I was.”

He let the sentence sink in for a moment before enlightenment spread across his face. “Oh, that’s where that comes from… What would you have wanted to hear? That we’re together? We’re not, are we Y/N?”

“I just don’t understand you,” you said, not responding to him.

“I can say the same back,” he muttered, but you ignored that too.

“All evening you were so… so distant and your friends didn’t even know who I was and how we know each other. Do you know how awkward it was for me when Emmy asked that and then this answer came from you?” You waited a moment, but Taehyung’s lips were pressed tightly together again. “Do you think I didn’t feel the looks from Grace and Yoongi? The–The pity when they heard you just label me as an acquaintance?”

“Oh, is that your problem? Is it so important to you what others think of you?” 

You didn’t respond. That was not the reason and he should know it. 

“What was I supposed to introduce you as then?” Taehyung raised his voice now, showing just how frustrated he was getting. “Hi guys, this is Y/N by the way. We’ve been fucking for over three months, but I actually know absolutely nothing about her because she pushes me away every fucking time I want to get to know her better. Is that how you want me to introduce you next time?”

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stood in front of you, completely out of breath, waiting for a reaction. 

You had to swallow and turned your gaze to the floor as the corners of your eyes began to burn. 

“Yes, I admit,” Taehyung continued, a bit more calmed but still noticeably upset, “I shouldn’t have introduced you as someone I just met at a party. But as what instead? What is this between us? You can’t tell me, and you don’t give me any clue about how you feel… how you feel about me. Sometimes I think you don’t fucking like me at all.”

“That’s not true,” you said meekly, but Taehyung snorted when he heard that. 

“Please stop denying that you don’t act like shit towards me. One night everything’s fine between us and the next day you’re back to being so distant as if there’s nothing between us.” You held his gaze, even though you wanted to look away. “And admit to yourself how you feel. For your sake, but also for mine, please. And let me know when you’ve made up your mind, I just can’t take this constant back and forth.”

He took a step back as if he needed some distance from you after his confession. Then he slowly walked past you while you continued to stand rooted to the spot.

“Are you coming?” you heard Taehyung’s voice behind you.

“I can walk the rest by myself.” Your voice sounded weak, as if the conversation just now had drained all your energy. 

Taehyung shook his head and nodded in the direction of your student apartment. “I’ll still walk you home. I’m not an asshole.”

If you concentrated, you could see the top of the roof in the distance. But maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you in the darkness. What was certain, though, was that the walk home would be unpleasant and long.

. . .

it’s a fine line between disappointment and anger

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other as your eyes flitted over the passing cars. You were on the lookout for Grace’s neon green old Ford Fiesta, although its eye-catching color made it hard to miss and visible even from a distance. When you took a quick look at your phone to check the time, you realized that you were already waiting for over fifteen minutes. 

The others were late.

You tried not to be too irritated about it, even though you couldn’t quite suppress the feeling. After all, you had taken a cab to get to the location, which was so far out of town. By train it would have been a big detour and a long walk afterwards, so you had bitten the bullet and spent the money on a cab. Even though you couldn’t deny that you almost cancelled when you found out how far out the location was.

And you knew all too well the reason why you had come after all.

You just hoped that Grace and Yoongi would give you a ride on the way back, so you wouldn’t have to pay for a cab again. 

You were about to reach into your jacket pocket for your phone again when you suddenly saw something green flashing in the distance. 

“Finally,” you muttered. You watched as Grace pulled into the parking lot and drove around the corner a little too fast before the car came to a stop in a parking space. 

“Sorry!” it echoed across the lot, barely after the driver’s side door was yanked open. “We’re late.” 

Grace came rushing to you and gave you a quick hug. As she did so, you noticed how out of breath she was, and instantly your little pang of annoyance was gone. “We still had to pick up Taehyung and Natalie.”

Natalie?

You tried not to flinch at the unfamiliar name. However, you didn’t even need to ask who this Natalie was because at that moment a girl got out of the car and brushed the non-existing dirt off her tight black jeans. Your gaze was so fixed on her that you didn’t even notice Taehyung, who had also gotten out of the car.

Only when he was just a few meters away from you and Grace did you notice him. You couldn’t help but let your eyes glide over his body. It had been a long time since you had seen Taehyung in jeans, when he usually wore wide-leg pants. You couldn’t deny how outrageously handsome he looked in the light blue jeans and plain black T-shirt that revealed his tanned arms. You wondered if he’d done something with friends last weekend and been out in the sun a lot.

You felt an unpleasant tingling on your skin and turned your attention back to the strange girl who pierced you with her gaze. It surprised you that no one else noticed her deadly stare, but that’s when she briefly narrowed her eyes and averted her eyes from you. Like a snake, which gave its warning before attacking if you didn’t back away. The message was clear, even if you didn’t understand what she had to fear. 

Taehyung and you, that was a closed book. Briefly flipped through it and then put back on the shelf. There, where it belonged and where it should preferably never be taken out again.

You hadn’t checked in for the past four weeks, and instead had locked yourself in your small dorm room preparing for exams. This had distracted you during the day, but at night you had often stayed awake. Your finger had hovered over the chat with Taehyung countless times before you had changed your mind at the last moment. 

It didn’t work. It wouldn’t work. 

Something inside you was still resisting, but now you didn’t have to act surprised if Taehyung had had enough of waiting. You had never been together. It was probably not difficult for him to move on. 

And you had given him every right to do so.

But then why did your heart tighten as you looked back and forth between Taehyung and Natalie?

“Let’s go in, it’s all going off of our time,” said Yoongi, who was the last to join you. With a nod and a quick smile, he greeted you before you walked together towards the front gate. The path to the small, ground-floor building was sandy, and lost in thought, you kicked a few small stones in front of you that were lying on the side of the path. 

“We needed one more person,” Grace snapped you out of your thoughts.

Confused, you looked up. 

“To play paintball,” she elaborated when she saw your puzzled look and nodded in the direction of Natalie, who was laughing at something Taehyung had said. She then punched him in the shoulder and he pretended to stagger far away before laughing as well. Just a few weeks ago, you had been the one laughing at his jokes. “It needs five players minimum, at least that’s what the website said.”

“Sure,” you replied, even though you had barely listened to Grace. You didn’t care about the reason Natalie was here. You wished that you had chosen to stay home. But there was nothing you could do about it now, and you definitely wouldn’t bring down anyone’s mood. 

So you put on a smile and hoped it would come easier in the next hours.

It didn’t take long at the reception, thankfully, so you were soon queuing up to borrow the equipment. During the induction training, your fingers nervously ran along the frame of the visor of your helmet that you had to wear. Purely precautionary, because the head was off limits, a paintball company employee explained to you. 

“There is also another rule,” the employee explained in a firm voice that indicated that he had told this text dozens, if not hundreds, of times before. “Or let’s say good etiquette. If you’re close to someone and the person hasn’t seen you,” he paused dramatically and you wondered if this pause had been in his script or if he’d added it over time, “don’t shoot the person, say ‘Bang!’ instead. Even if they’re just little hardened gelatine balls, they can really hurt when shot at such close range. So don’t be assholes and take care of each other.”

Scattered laughter rippled through the three groups receiving instruction with you. As your eyes slid back to the staff member to hear if he had more to explain, they lingered on Taehyung and Natalie. Natalie signalled Taehyung with her index finger to her lips that they should listen. As she did so, however, her lips twisted into a grin and from the short distance you could hear her soft laughter.

Oh now you couldn’t wait to get on the field.

. . .

You hid behind a small wooden hut in the fenced area. As you tried to calm your breathing, you checked the end of the gun to see how many of the little colored bullets were left before sighing quietly in frustration. 

You scanned your surroundings as you scrambled back to your feet, but there was no sign of Natalie. She was responsible for your team’s ammunition, and no sooner had the round begun against a group of strangers than she had apparently made it her goal to stay hidden not only from your opponents, but from her own teammates as well. You hadn’t seen her the entire round so far, and if you didn’t have a deep-seated grudge against her, you’d almost be impressed. 

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you suddenly heard a dull stomping behind you in the house. The hut was small, perhaps two square meters, and consisted only of thin wooden boards nailed together. As quietly as you could, you turned around and tried to make out something through the small slit between the wood, but even as you squinted your eye, you couldn’t see anything except for the floor. 

Suddenly, you heard something behind you. 

You whirled around and raised your gun at the same moment, aiming it right at the young man who was just sneaking around the corner of the house and was about to surprise you. 

You looked at each other perplexed for a moment before he turned his gun away from you and held up his free hand.

“I think we’re both out, aren’t we?” he laughed, and you agreed, smiling. 

He helped you to your feet and you went to join the others, who were also hit and waited outside the area until the round was over. You were surprised that Natalie and Taehyung were the only ones left from your team.

When Grace spotted you, she threw her arms up in the air in disappointment. “Oh no! I think we’re losing this round.” 

Yoongi stifled a grin at the pure disappointment in his girlfriend’s voice before putting an arm around her shoulders. Grace unconsciously rubbed her side, and as you moved to stand next to her, you asked, “Is that where it hit you?”

She looked down in wonder, where her hand was still rubbing the presumably sore spot, before nodding. “Those things really hurt, don’t you think?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t get hit. It was more of a mutual elimination.” You glanced to the side and saw the young man from the other team standing alone. His remaining team seemed not to have been hit yet. 

No sooner had this thought crossed your mind than two unknown men suddenly joined you. Their faces reflected frustration and disappointment. Your eyes widened when you saw the countless paint splatters on their clothes. 

“What happened to you guys?” laughed the other man when he noticed it too.

But the two didn’t answer him, instead they looked in your direction.

“Not a bad tactic,” one said, and the other nodded. 

You were glad that Grace and Yoongi were as clueless as you were when Grace asked, “What tactic?”

“You guys completely overran us with all the bullets two of your team members had. We didn’t expect that at all.”

Grace muttered something unintelligible and the two men joined their teammate. 

“You didn’t get any ammunition from Natalie either?” you asked in amazement, firmly expecting to be the only one who hadn’t seen Natalie. 

But the other two shook their heads and Grace rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what her problem is. If I had known beforehand what a bitch she was, I would have told Taehyung to take someone else with him.”

Yoongi grumbled in agreement. “Taehyung’s taste in women is questionable.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled over you like a heavy blanket. You didn’t miss Yoongi’s panicked glance in your direction, nor Grace’s elbow, which landed in Yoongi’s side. 

“Sorry, Y/N… I didn’t mean that,” he apologized, but you shook your head and forced a smile.

“It’s okay.”

But was it really?

The awkward silence was interrupted by a loud roar and cheer, and a little later the last four from the fenced area joined you. Two of them reflected exactly the emotion that the two men before had as well, while the other two were in each other’s arms, cheering and laughing loudly, and almost stumbling into each other.

“We won!” Natalie announced, grinning broadly and visibly proud. 

You didn’t need to look in Taehyung’s direction to notice that he was happy, too. You could hear it in the deep laughter that reached your ears.

But over their joy, they didn’t seem to notice that no one was rejoicing with them. A quick sideways glance at Grace told you how pissed off she was getting. To keep the situation from escalating, you stepped in. 

As calm and relaxed as you could, you said, “Maybe you’d like to give us some of that ammunition, too, in the next round.”

Natalie’s laughter died away, leaving behind an ugly grinning grimace. With raised eyebrows, she looked at you and took a step toward you. “It worked, didn’t it?” She paused. “Y/N.” She literally spat your name at your feet. “Or did it hurt that much when you got hit? Oh no, little baby.” She raised her hand and pinched your cheek like grandparents used to do with little kids. With a quick movement, you pushed her hand aside.

“Ever heard of teamwork?” interfered Yoongi, who also took a step forward, easily getting between you and Natalie. You were grateful for the distance between you.

Natalie’s challenging gaze was on you for a moment longer before she turned her attention to Yoongi. “Don’t be such killjoys, geez. We won, that’s all that matters.”

The discussion between Yoongi, Grace, and Natalie passed by you as your gaze slid to Taehyung. Your heart stopped for a second as your eyes met for the first time this day. You tried to find something in his gaze, an answer perhaps. An answer as to how you could drift apart in such a short time. And an answer to why on earth he had had to bring Natalie with him. 

Yet you knew the answer, and you knew you had no one to blame but yourself. Even though it had never been anything serious between you, Taehyung had given you the chance that it could have possibly become something more. If you had been brave enough. If you had admitted your feelings. 

If…

If you had given each other and yourself a chance. 

You had to avert your gaze and turned it to the ground instead. When you looked up again after a few seconds, Taehyung had turned his attention back to Natalie, who was still discussing with Grace. 

“Hey,” one of the men from the other group interrupted the argument, “Do you guys feel like swapping through?”

“Sure,” Natalie replied without waiting for a response from the others first. “Why not?”

“I want those two on the team, though,” you heard one of the men say quietly to his buddy before his gaze shifted to Natalie and Taehyung. The other one laughed and that reaction made the blood boil inside you. 

But that’s how it was decided before any of you three even had a chance to protest. Grace didn’t look like she was too sad about being on Natalie’s opposing team, though, and you were glad to know at least her and Yoongi were by your side. In addition to the two of them, you were joined rather reluctantly by the young man you had eliminated and one of the two who had been eliminated last in the round before.

Grace chatted with the two on her way to a new area, but you didn’t feel like talking. Usually you took the opportunity to meet new people, but today it kind of drained your energy. Either that or it was the annoying shrill laughter that could be heard every few seconds. Your ears were hurting by now.

“Wow, how cool!” Grace marveled as you walked through a large gate to the new area. And you too could only look around with your mouth open over the large plaza full of cars. At least you suspected that they were cars under the thick layer of paint, since they were barely visible. In the middle of the square diagonally stood a bus, which probably marked about half of the area. You could also make out an RV in the distance and many smaller cars scattered around. 

“You can hide in the cars, by the way,” one of the men from the other group gave you a hint.

“Are you guys here often?” asked Yoongi with interest and the other nodded.

He raised his gun, which looked different from the one you were holding. “Custom-made, we all have our own equipment.”

“Of course you do,” Grace muttered and you had to laugh. “Shhh, don’t laugh,” Grace whispered, but had to laugh as well. The fact that your laughter didn’t please one person at all escaped you at that moment. 

“Okay, we’ll each start from one side,” one of the two on your team announced, and you began to spread out across the course. More than once you almost slipped on the ground, which had become slippery from the layer of paint. You barely managed to hold on to the outside mirror of a car. A thick layer of paint remained on your hand and you grimaced as you wiped it off on your pants. 

At least you had thought ahead and taken a change of clothes with you. 

You looked at the RV that was in your area and before you could weigh the pros and cons, your legs had already carried you there out of pure curiosity. Quietly you opened the door to the interior and carefully closed it again behind you. 

Even the interior was not spared from paint splatters, but there was much less in here than outside. You continued to look around the dark room, which was only sparsely lit because the windows were also covered in paint from outside. 

“Shit,” you muttered as you realized what a bad idea that had been. You couldn’t see what was happening outside, and there was no place to hide in here either. The benches and kitchenette had been ripped out and only the small cubicle where you thought the toilet was, was still there. 

With a sigh, you turned and reached toward the door to go back outside, when suddenly you heard voices. You couldn’t make out who it was or if it was someone from your team, but you couldn’t take the risk. 

Cursing, you lowered your hand again and walked quietly but briskly toward the small cabin. You winced when the rotten wood squeaked as you opened the door, but continued with your plan. Not that you had a choice. In the darkness, you were able to make out that the toilet had also been ripped out, making it just a tiny, empty room. 

You shut the door and squatted on the floor. Straining your ears, you tried to hear something, but except for your breathing, which seemed uncomfortably loud under your helmet, you couldn’t hear anything. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and your ears picked up every little sound. 

Had that been the door to the RV? 

You tried to make yourself a little smaller.

“I swear, I saw her go in here.”

The blood froze in your veins as you recognized the deep voice. You didn’t know why, but it hurt to hear that Taehyung had betrayed you just like that. And you didn’t need laser vision to know who was alongside Taehyung. 

A second later, the door was yanked open.

Your eyes narrowed as you had to look at the sudden light that fell through the door, illuminating the person in front of you from behind. You only heard them laugh, which sounded somewhat muffled by the helmet and visor, before you heard a loud clack and a second later felt a sudden pain in your upper arm. 

Before you understood what had happened, the sequence repeated itself two more times. A bullet bounced off the wall and hit you in the back of the head. You flinched as a sharp pain shot through you and instinctively grabbed the back of your head. Even in the dark you could see your fingers were yellow from the paint.

“Oh oops,” you heard Natalie laugh, “Bang.”

She giggled even as you scrambled to your feet and pushed past her. She didn’t step aside, not until your shoulder made hard contact with hers and she stumbled to the side. 

“Ugh, someone can’t lose, I guess.”

Jumping out of the RV and almost running into Taehyung, you froze on the spot for a moment. Not a word came out of him and after a few moments you just gave a cool short laugh before shaking your head and walking towards the edge of the area. 

The back of your head hurt and as you ran your fingers through your hair again, you winced, noticing how the color was already gluing them together. A curse stuck in your throat, but you tried not to let it out. Once you started, you wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“We’re really bad,” Grace laughed when she caught sight of you. But you shook your head in response and silently walked past her. “Is everything okay?” One foot in front of the other. “Y/N?”

Her questions fell silent when you were finally far enough away. You went straight to the lockers and reached for your bag. The sudden jerk caused it to snag on the metal of the locker, which only made you pull on it more furiously. A few seconds of mindless pulling later, you let it go. As you brushed your palms over your face, you noticed how your hands were shaking. 

So you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths before slowly grabbing the handles of your bag again. This time you immediately managed to pull it out of the compartment. The locker slammed shut behind you as you made your way towards the changing rooms. 

. . . 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Grace asked you this question for the third time and for the third time you nodded. 

You said your thanks to the staff member who held out an ice pack to you and immediately you held it to the back of your head. By the time you had changed your clothes, you had already noticed the dark red spots where you had been hit and which would surely be blue by tomorrow at the latest. When you had pulled your sweatshirt over your head, you had noticed the thick and painful bump on your head. 

“I really appreciate this, Grace, that you’re offering to wait with me,” you explained, “but you paid for this and you had fun, so I don’t want to spoil it for you.”

“You’re not spoiling anything for me,” came back the prompt reply. Grace was still holding your free hand as if she was afraid you were getting the next cab home at any moment. And to be honest, you would like nothing better than that right now.

Still, you rolled your eyes. “Come on,” you said, nodding behind her. 

Yoongi was just heading your way, with a questioning look on his face. “What happened?” 

Grace started to answer, but you beat her to it. “I got hit, nothing bad.”

But Grace grunted contemptuously. “Natalie shot her in the back of her head.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.” You didn’t want to defend her because you knew the two hits before that had definitely been on purpose. But you also knew that the hit to your head had been bad luck.

“Does it hurt much?” Yoongi didn’t join the discussion, but remained diplomatic. You gave him credit for that. Your head hurt enough as it was, you didn’t need another unnecessary argument. 

In response, you shrugged your shoulders and pressed the cold pack harder against your head, closing your eyes briefly. 

“Do you want one of us to stay here?”

“Not you too,” you groaned, and when you opened your eyes again, you caught sight of Natalie and Taehyung, who also joined you at that moment.

“Oh,” Natalie said, barely standing next to Grace, “you changed your clothes, Y/N,” she remarked as she looked down at you. 

Grace’s grip on your hand tightened and you saw her jaw tighten. 

Then you turned your gaze to Natalie. There was not an ounce of remorse or pity in her gaze. “Yeah, I’m out. Completely for today.”

“Oh no, what a shame!” 

Taehyung on the other hand was exceptionally quiet right now and didn’t say a word. And you didn’t have the strength to look up and see the same look you saw a few minutes ago.

“Well, that’s just the way it is. Shall we keep playing?”

No one said a word and the uncomfortable silence increased by the second. 

“Go on,” you said, squeezing Grace’s hand, “go on playing without me.” You gave her a significant look and Grace’s eyes widened briefly before a knowing smile spread across her face.

“Okay, let’s go!” she said euphorically, jumping to her feet. Then she pulled Yoongi by the hand with her. 

Natalie didn’t take the invitation twice either and followed the two of them. Only when she had walked a few meters did she stop in wonder and look back at Taehyung, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Are you coming, Tae?”

You couldn’t hold back your bitter grin when you heard the nickname. When you looked up, Taehyung’s gaze was right on the floor in front of you. “Come on, Tae,” you said, and at your voice your eyes met, “your girlfriend’s calling you.”

Taehyung’s answer came directly without hesitation and his voice was cold as he said, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Just like I’ve never been your girlfriend? Is that the same between you two?”

“That’s not fair, Y/N… You were the one who didn’t talk to me for four weeks. It was as if you had completely disappeared from the face of the earth.”

He looked at you silently, his lips pressed into a straight line. He shook his head ever so slightly before turning and following the others without another word. You had to admit that you felt some gloating when he ignored Natalie’s outstretched hand and followed Yoongi and Grace without paying any attention to her. 

. . .

“You should have seen her face,” Grace laughed, quickly covering her mouth when she realized how loudly she had spoken. You stood in front of the locker while Grace pushed her water bottle into her bag. Wordlessly, Yoongi held his dirty clothes out to her and with a roll of her eyes, she grabbed them and stuffed them into the bag as well. “Next time, bring your own bag.”

“Hm-hm,” Yoongi muttered, already having turned his attention to something else.

You exited the building and headed toward the parking lot. You looked over your shoulder, where you recognized Taehyung and Natalie a few feet away from you. The two didn’t say a word to each other and silently followed you.

“What happened?” you asked quietly as you turned to face forward again. You couldn’t deny that the mood between the two of them seemed tense, while Grace walked beside you almost jumping for joy.

“She realized it hurts when you get hit.”

Immediately your head snapped to her, “Oh God, what did you do?” 

But Grace shook her head and you could see a slight smile on Yoongi’s face. “Not me.” She gave you a meaningful look that you couldn’t interpret. Or wanted to. “Taehyung.”

“Taehyung?” You were confused. “Weren’t they on the same team?”

“Apparently he got tired of her,” Yoongi said, and he too looked at you for a moment too long. 

“And that’s not the only thing,” Grace directly followed up when Yoongi hadn’t even finished speaking, “He accidentally called her Nicole. She hasn’t spoken to him since.”

“Admittedly, he didn’t really talk to her before either.”

You had to swallow. Suddenly a fat lump had settled in your throat, making it hard for you to make a sound. Only when you cleared your throat did you start to speak. “Can we talk about something else?”

For a moment neither of them said anything and you felt the eyes of both on you. You had yours, however, focused on the floor in front of you. Grace was just starting to speak when suddenly a shadow appeared next to you in the corner of your eye. You looked up in surprise and were even more surprised to see Taehyung next to you. 

He didn’t say a word, but just walked beside you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t know what to say. Especially not in front of Grace and Yoongi. And in front of Natalie, whose footsteps you heard right behind you. 

And was there anything to say at all? Or would all the effort be for nothing and just a little too late?

You eyed him from the side, letting your gaze glide over his tousled and windblown hair, over his nose and his lips. The lips, which formed slightly downward and the eyebrows, which he had pinched together in thought. 

It seemed as if he noticed your stare, because suddenly he looked up and when your eyes met every trace of strain disappeared. A brief smile spread across his face before he turned his gaze forward again.

Arriving at the car, you tried to make yourself as small as possible in the middle seat so that your leg wouldn’t keep bumping into Taehyung’s as Grace rounded a corner. Your heart had been pounding up to your throat ever since you felt the heat radiating from him and taking over you completely. Your skin tingled and again and again your gaze slid to his hand, which he had placed on his knee. It needed only a small movement of your hand and you would be able to grasp it. You wondered if he would withdraw his hand or allow–

You quickly turned your gaze to the other side. But it was no better there. Natalie barely gave you room, which didn’t make your predicament with Taehyung any better. She stared wordlessly out the window since you got into the car and paid no attention to the conversations in the car. 

Even though there wasn’t that much attention to pay there, because every attempt Grace made to start a conversation was met with a wall of awkward silence. A few short sentences, Taehyung, Yoongi and you returned before the conversation died again. On top of that, you felt Grace’s eyes on you through the rearview mirror every few seconds. You didn’t need to be able to read minds to understand that you were supposed to talk to Taehyung. 

The next time your eyes met, you tried to shake your head as inconspicuously as possible. 

This was not the right time. 

Grace shook her head… and drove a little too fast around the next curve. 

You managed to suppress the surprised yelp, but couldn’t keep your balance, so you fell into Taehyung’s lap. Your hand came into contact with his thigh, which you tried to brace yourself against. 

“Oh,” Grace laughed, and you gave her an evil glare through the driver’s seat, “I guess I was a little too fast. Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s deep voice startled you. You felt his strong hand on your shoulder and slowly he pulled you back upright. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you apologized and your cheeks burned. Damn, Grace…

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing happened.”

But something did happen, just not the way Taehyung was thinking at that moment. 

. . .

scary love

Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest; so hard it almost hurt. Your gaze slid from your perfectly applied makeup to your top, and you stared at the spot under your left breast for a moment, sure that you could see your heart beating. You shook your head and took one deep breath before grabbing your bag, throwing on a jacket and leaving your room. 

The hustle and bustle of the city drowned out your noisy thoughts as you made your way to the apartment of the house party. When Grace had approached you about the party yesterday and asked if you were coming, your thoughts had inevitably drifted straight to Taehyung. The last time you had gone out at night was when you and Taehyung had had your fight. Even though that was nearly a month and a half ago, it seemed like it was only a few days ago.

But it wasn’t just your thoughts that had drifted straight to him. 

As you got off the bus and walked the rest of the way, Grace’s expression came back to your mind. The much-important pause that had followed her question and right before her hesitant “Taehyung will be there too.” 

You wondered if it would always be like this from now on. That you would have to be forewarned if there was a chance that you might run into each other.

You hoped that this would not be your future. That you could have a clarifying conversation with him tonight. And that he was at the party at all. You didn’t even want to think about the fact that you came to the party today for nothing. 

The thumping bass and sweaty heat met you as you entered the house. Immediately, your eyes scanned the various guests as you walked through the different rooms on the first floor. Your heart stopped a few times as you thought you spotted Taehyung, only to be disappointed when it was someone else. 

You were still a little scared that you seemed to feel so strongly about Taehyung. You didn’t want to imagine the pain if Taehyung rejected you. After all, he had been relatively cryptic in his statements, and even if… you had taken a few weeks to make your decision. The situation with Natalie still hadn’t left your mind. What if he showed up again today with another girl? 

Your thoughts raced and your gaze darted through the crowd until finally someone entered your field of vision and you looked up slightly. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Grace looked at you with wide eyes and you were sure your nervousness was showing.

“Yes,” you answered her, your voice sounding breathless. Just like how you felt. “Have you seen Taehyung?”

Grace stifled a smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched up suspiciously, betraying her. 

“He’s coming along with Yoongi. The two of them should be on their way.” She glanced at her phone and nodded once more in agreement with her statement. “Oh, Yoongi just texted that they arrived.”

Your heart skipped a beat and the nervousness became almost unbearable all at once. Nausea spread through you and you gratefully accepted the drink Grace held out to you, which you only now noticed. As you took a generous sip of it, you realized it was water.

“Thank you, Grace.”

“I thought it would be better if you worked this out sober.” She smiled at you encouragingly, but suddenly her eyes fell on something behind you. You were afraid to turn around because you knew exactly who must have come up behind you. You could see it in Grace’s smile and you inevitably wondered if you were looking at Taehyung like that. Or if he was looking at you like that. 

But when Yoongi came up beside you, you couldn’t continue to stand rooted to the spot. You turned your head to the side and Taehyung’s gaze was already on you. For a moment, you stared at each other as if you were having a telepathic conversation. Then a small smile spread on Taehyung’s lips and you felt yourself relax abruptly. 

“Hey,” his deep voice greeted you. 

“Hi.” You didn’t notice Grace and Yoongi giving each other meaningful looks before they unobtrusively walked away from you and left you alone. You were too focused on Taehyung, on his face and his smile. He looked handsome, his T-shirt tucked into his dark pants, and at his neck you could make out a fine silver chain, its pendant disappearing under his T-shirt. 

You had missed him. And you were glad to see him again. 

And as you studied his expression, hope spread through you that he might felt the same way. 

“Shall we–”, “Do you want–”, you started talking at the same time and you suppressed an eye roll as you laughed softly. 

“Please,” he let you go first with that boxy smile you had missed so much. 

You took a deep breath and laid out the words you’d been thinking about for the past few days. “Do you want to talk somewhere that might be a little quieter?”

Taehyung nodded without thinking twice. “Shall we go to my place? I’m here by car.”

Surprised, you raised your eyebrows. “By car? But you just got here, right? And since when do you have a car?”

His smile changed, taking on a hint of… was that embarrassment? “Well, I didn’t come here for the party.” Now he was grinning fully at you. “And Yoongi lent me his car.”

The words got stuck in your throat and you were incapable of more than a smile. 

“Shall we?” 

As you nodded, Taehyung led you through the crowd back to the front door. Every few seconds he looked over his shoulder to make sure you hadn’t lost him and were still behind him. 

But you wouldn’t let him out of your sight again.

Silently, you walked to Taehyung’s car, but this time the silence was not uncomfortable. Instead, there was a certain tension in the air, as if you were both nervous about the upcoming conversation. No matter how it turned out, something would definitely change for you. 

As the doors slammed shut loudly, the sound snapped you out of your thoughts. All at once, you realized how close you were to Taehyung. His right hand was on the gear stick as he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking space. You couldn’t help but watch him as he expertly pulled the car onto the road. 

“Are you just going to stare at me the whole time, or do you want to talk as well?” Taehyung’s grin showed you that he was just teasing you because he had noticed your stare. 

“Sorry,” you returned with a soft laugh, turning your gaze to the road ahead of you instead. 

“How are you?” 

Normally, you hated that question. It was a filler for awkward pauses when you didn’t know what to say. But at that moment, it was different. You knew that Taehyung was genuinely interested in how you were doing and that his question hinted at more than it showed at first glance. A question whose deeper meaning only the two of you knew. 

Therefore, you pondered for a moment how best to answer this question. You decided to tell the truth. Finally. “I… could be better.”

“Oh?” Taehyung tilted his head and gave you a quick sideways glance.

Your gaze was on your feet as you continued to explain. “I’ve been pretty bothered by everything… All this between us I mean.”

“Hm-hm.”

“And I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Taehyung sounded seriously surprised. “For what?”

You sighed and let your head fall back against the headrest. “For treating you like that… I didn’t know what I wanted myself, and I expected you to know. That was unfair.”

Taehyung let your words run through his mind. “And do you know what you want now?” In one move, he parked in front of his apartment and turned off the engine. 

You waited until he pulled the key out of the ignition and looked at you. “Yes.”

“And what’s that?” Taehyung’s voice was little more than a whisper, so soft that it was meant only for your ears. Afraid that if it left that small space of the car, that your mind would change again. 

But it wouldn’t anytime soon. Rarely had you felt as sure as you did at that moment. 

“Can we discuss this upstairs?”

Nervously, you followed him up the two flights of stairs, the mixture of your racing heart and exertion making you gasp a little as Taehyung unlocked his apartment. 

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water… I also have that lemonade you like so much.” His voice grew more distant as he disappeared into the kitchen. You heard dishes and bottles clinking as you waited uncertainly in the hallway until Taehyung finally stepped out of the kitchen with two bottles and you went into the living room. 

No matter how you sat on the small sofa, you couldn’t stay still and had to change your position every few seconds. Legs crossed, once left leg up, then right leg. Then both feet on the floor, once half bent on the sofa–

Until Taehyung finally put a hand on your knee, forcing you to rest. A small smile played around his lips as he sought and finally found your gaze. “I’ve never seen you this nervous before,” he remarked, leaning back again after making sure you stayed in one position for now. 

You exhaled before taking a sip of the lemonade and placing the bottle back on the coffee table. Your hands shook as you placed them folded back together in your lap. You heard the quiet whirring of Taehyung’s Playstation, which he never shut off, and which had already become a welcoming sound. It seemed almost ridiculous to you that you had missed that. 

You cleared your throat and slid back and forth on the sofa again before finally getting to speak. You were so engrossed in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice how nervous Taehyung himself was and how he was hanging spellbound on your lips, hoping that you would finally give him an explanation. 

“I’ve had a lot of time the last few weeks to think about… well, to think about the weeks before that. The paintball game in particular has given me a lot to think about.”

“I still wanted to apologize for that,” Taehyung added, “Nadine was really out of line. I shouldn’t have brought her.”

You grunted before you could hold it back, but decided not to comment on his mistake. Instead, you asked, “Then why did you? How do you even know her?”

Now Taehyung was shifting back and forth a little uneasily. “I know her from a few parties. She approached me shortly after that fight we had…”

The question hung in the air, but still, you had to have certainty.

“Was there something going on between you two?”

Taehyung hesitated to answer and you felt your heart sink.

Then he sighed. “We kissed, made out a little before I stopped. When Yoongi asked me if I knew anyone else we could take to the paintball game, she offered coming. I thought it would be a good idea to… um, well–”

“Were you trying to make me jealous?” you interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. 

Taehyung nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with the flat of his hand, slightly embarrassed. “I know that’s stupid and childish. But I was just still so mad at you–at me, at both of us to be honest. You’d been so absent-minded with me, I just wanted to see some kind of reaction from you.”

“I’m sure you saw one,” you muttered, turning your gaze to the gray carpet.

“Yes, but not the one I wanted,” Taehyung returned, also muttering. “I never wanted you to get hurt. That’s what I told her as well.” There was silence between the two of you for a moment and you heard Taehyung take a deep breath. “I haven’t been in contact with her since, if you’re interested.”

You weighed his statement before nodding slowly and turning your gaze back to him. “You can have contact with whomever you want, Taehyung,” you began, and he started to contradict you, but you raised your hand, wanting to finish your sentence, “but I don’t want to tell you what to do and what not to do. Who you should have contact with and with whom you shouldn’t. If we start with such stories, we’ll get into a spiral again. But thank you for telling me honestly what happened between you.”

Taehyung waited a moment to see if you had finished talking before it rushed out of him. “I didn’t end it with her because I was afraid of what you would think about it. In the first place, there was never anything between us that could have been ended, and secondly, that was entirely a decision for myself. And I wanted to be fair to her. I know what it’s like to just be a replacement for someone and how shitty this feels. I didn’t want to do that to anyone else.”

“I didn’t know anyone had ever hurt you like that.”

Taehyung laughed softly as he recalled, and you were glad that the memory no longer seemed to cause him pain. You still had to work on that yourself, letting bygones be bygones and not projecting your experiences onto other people, other men. 

“In my junior year… I can’t remember her name,” Taehyung began to tell, “I was fully into puberty and she was the first girl I really liked. You must know that I used to be quite the nerd.” He softly laughed about himself when he remembered that. 

“A nerd? Pfft.” Looking at Taehyung now, with his wide black pants, muscular upper arms showing under his white T-shirt, and his whole aura radiating, you found it hard to imagine.

“Hey, don’t pfft me,” he complained, “I cared a lot about good grades and she noticed that. Of course, back then, I gratefully accepted any chance to do something with her. Even if it consisted of me doing her homework while she sat on her phone, probably texting her friends about how boring I was.”

“Ouch. That’s almost exactly like all those teen movies from back in the day.”

“And I was the poor nerd that the whole school made fun of behind his back.”

From the way Taehyung said this, you knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Your hand twitched as you reached for his hand, but you were unsure how far to go. Whether your touch was appropriate and, more importantly, welcome. 

But he had seen that small movement and reached for your hand. Your fingers intertwined as if they were made for it and you wondered if that was the first time you held hands like that. At that moment, you couldn’t imagine a more intimate gesture.

“I changed schools my senior year and graduated. A fresh new start, so to speak.”

“I know what that feels like,” you agreed, nodding, and he smiled at you gratefully. His fingers painted small circles on the back of your hand and the skin touched by his fingertips began to tingle. 

“It wasn’t an easy time for me, if I’m honest,” he continued, “I didn’t make any friends in my last year because most of the groups had already formed and I felt like it wasn’t worth it for most of them to make another friendship for that one year. But I could have tried harder. So I was glad when I was out of school.”

You tilted your head in wonder. “I thought you liked school?”

Taehyung threw you a small smile. “There’s a difference between liking learning and liking school. I always wanted to get good grades, even if that girl spoiled it for me a bit. Crashed a little bit after that, and really all I enjoyed was drawing and painting. I was glad that the university accepted me at all with my final grades. Because that’s not what a lot of people think, that you need good grades to study art.” Taehyung rolled his eyes and shook his head, laughing softly.

“Is that what you want to do? Being a painter?”

Taehyung thought about it for a moment. You could tell that he had a profession on the tip of his tongue, but seemed unsure of how you would respond. You squeezed his hand once so he would continue.

“I mean, there are many professions,” he began to explain, “I can stay at a university after graduation and pass on my knowledge to others. I think that’s pretty cool.”

You waited a moment, but Taehyung seemed to be pondering his thoughts. “But?” you asked because of that, and he turned his attention back to you. 

“My dream is to open my own gallery. To support small artists and bring their voices to the public. And, of course, to exhibit myself, that would be awesome.”

“Do you have some paintings here?”

He looked at you like you’d asked a totally crazy question. And maybe you had. Sometimes you lived in your own world full of books from centuries ago that you felt a little detached from the present time. 

Taehyung let your hand slip from his and got up from the sofa. He went to the large cabinet that took up almost the entire opposite wall, pulled open a drawer, and began rummaging through it. After a few moments, he seemed to have found what he was looking for.

When he came back to you, he had a large drawing pad in his hand, which he held out to you. With careful fingers you took the A2 large pad from him. The first small loose sketches fell into your hand as you opened the pad. Immediately your jaw dropped as you took your first look at what probably represented Taehyung’s most intimate thoughts and feelings. 

You recognized many black and white sketch-like drawings that, at least you assumed, must have been painted with charcoal. It seemed like he had been studying different facial expressions, and that was a theme that ran through many of his drawings. Even your untrained eye could see that Taehyung placed a lot of emphasis on the expressions of his models. Anger, annoyance, sadness, more rarely happiness… you kept turning the pages and suddenly the drawing in front of you looked familiar. Or rather, the person who was drawn looked familiar. 

It was you. 

You looked up in surprise and met Taehyung’s waiting gaze. It seemed like he was reading every reaction on your face. 

“Some people don’t like it when you draw them,” he explained.

You searched for the right words as you continued to flip through it and saw another drawing of yourself. In the background you saw sketchy hints of other people, and you wondered if this was supposed to be the night of the party when you two had first met. 

Your index finger gently stroked the fine pencil lines. “This is how you see me?” Your voice was no more than a whisper. Your eyes fell on the date, written very small in the corner of the picture. You weren’t quite sure, but you believed that the picture had been taken on the very day after the party.

“What do you mean?”

Your gaze fell back to the drawing. The drawing strokes were deliberate and skillfully placed, as if he had done it a thousand times before. Only in the region of the face could you see eraser marks, and as you stroked over them, Taehyung laughed softly. 

“It took me forever to get your face right,” he admitted, also letting his gaze slide over the paper in your hands. 

“It turned out beautifully,” you breathed. 

Taehyung looked up from the drawing and eyed your face for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Still, nothing like the original. Nothing comes close to that.”

You rolled your eyes when you heard that, but had to laugh softly. His comment reminded you of the night of the party. Already there he had been able to convince you, to your surprise, with his bad and exaggerated comments. You would have ignored anyone else, but even then you had given him a chance. 

No matter what Taehyung said or did, he always made you feel that he meant it one hundred percent. And that was what set him apart from many men your age. 

And that was the reason you were here. 

Gently, you closed the sketchpad and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. “So,” you began, leaning back again until your back touched the backrest. Even though you looked relaxed from the outside, excitement and nervousness raged inside you. “What is this between us?”

Taehyung also leaned back and turned slightly to the side so that your knees were almost touching. With every second that Taehyung said nothing, the tension grew. 

Then he cleared his throat and you flinched, so tense you were. “Hmm,” he began, studying your face. “There can be everything and nothing between us.”

You suppressed a snort, and instead a muffled sound of disapproval came out.

A smirk spread across his face when he heard it, before he leaned forward. 

“Is that answer not acceptable to you?” His grin revealed that he knew exactly what you wanted to hear. 

Needed to hear. 

Because still your heart was beating up to your throat, afraid that you would get hurt. But luck was with the brave, right?

So you shook your head. No, you were not satisfied with his answer. 

You also leaned forward so that you braced your elbows on your knees. Now there were only a few inches between you and Taehyung. You imagined even feeling his breath lightly on your face. Then you said, so softly that it was almost swallowed by the silence around you, “I want more than what we already had. I don’t know if this is or can become a relationship, but I want more than sex. I want to get to know you, your quirks and oddities–”

“There aren’t any,” he interrupted, grinning. 

“There’s already the first one” you mumbled, looking at him seriously for a moment. Then a smile broke up your serious expression.

Taehyung just shook his head with a grin before his eyes fell on your lips. “Does that mean I finally get to kiss you?”

“Yeah.” 

Taehyung raised his hand, slowly, and so gently that at first you were unsure if you were imagining the touch, before his palm and thumb rested on your cheek and his fingers caressed your ear and neck. Your breath hitched at the intimate touch and unconsciously you leaned towards the movement. 

This was the moment when you threw every last bit of doubt overboard. The space that was finally vacated, after all these years, was filled with a warmth until you even felt the heat on your cheeks.

Taehyung now leaned forward fully and you closed your eyes at the same moment as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, almost cautious, as your bodies had to get used to each other again. But it only lasted a moment before Taehyung opened his lips to intensify the kiss and ran his tongue along your lips. You willingly opened your mouth and allowed him to enter. 

He explored your mouth and pulled you towards him by your hips until you landed on his lap with a soft “oomph”. He gave a low, satisfied-sounding grumble and his grip on your waist tightened, as if to make sure you wouldn’t vanish into thin air again at any moment. 

Your fingers ran through his soft hair and you didn’t know where to touch him first. Everything was going too slowly for you and when you let your hips circle against Taehyung’s, he made a satisfied sound. His big hands eased off your hips and instead sought their way under your T-shirt. Meanwhile, the kiss grew more intimate and you both fought for the upper hand, even though you knew there was no answer to that question. 

“God, I missed you,” he murmured into the kiss. 

His thumb circled your nipple over the material of your bra und you arched into his touch. You felt him growing even harder between your legs when you pushed your hips into his. Taehyung bit your lower lip and elicited a whine from you. He grabbed your thighs and in the next moment he had lifted you up and laid you backwards on the sofa. Immediately he towered over you and you spread your legs so that he could find space between them. His mouth wandered downward, along your neck, remembering exactly which parts of you were particularly sensitive and making you squirm in his grip. 

As he let his hips snap against yours, your moans echoed loudly in the otherwise silent room. He showed you exactly how hard he was, and your abdomen contracted as you thrust your hips upward, hoping to get more friction. 

But Taehyung seemed to have other priorities at that moment and pushed your T-shirt up a little further. You shivered as the cool air hit your bare and heated skin, and when Taehyung sensed this, he rubbed your sides with his large, warm hands. His mouth also found its way to your stomach and he spread countless small, innocent kisses on the sensitive skin before he slid a little further back and straightened up until he knelt between your legs. 

You were already out of breath at this point and looked at him over your rapidly heaving chest. He held your gaze as he slowly, but surely reached with his fingers to the clasp of your jeans and undid them. He took his time, after all, you were no longer in any hurry. Time belonged to you alone at that moment.

Taehyung helped you slip out of the tight jeans and threw them on the floor next to the sofa. He didn’t hesitate for a second and let his hands slide up your legs starting at your calves, until he finally reached your thighs and spread them a little further apart. 

His gaze was fixed on the center of your body and his eyes flickered upward for a brief moment where your eyes met. “And I missed that, too.” He bit his lip while his gaze studied your body, as if he were absorbing and memorizing every little detail of you.

The air escaped you as you laughed out of breath. “I’ve missed you, too.”

This time his gaze was on you longer; it seemed like he didn’t expect that answer. Both of you would probably need a little time to get used to this new situation. But it didn’t scare you anymore. For the first time in years you had the feeling that someone accepted, even liked you, as you were.

And for the first time, maybe ever, you knew you were giving someone else that chance too.

He turned his gaze back between your legs and you had to moan as he stroked his thumb over the wet line that had already formed on the material of your underwear. Then he withdrew his hand and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, which he pulled over his head a moment later. Immediately your hands grabbed everything they could find, his trained arms, over his chest and stomach. Until your fingers finally reached the waistband of his pants, where you paused for a moment. 

You looked up and without breaking eye contact, you pulled the button through its flap and pulled the zipper down, before Taehyung slipped out of them. 

Your breath hitched when you saw how hard Taehyung was. His bulge was significant in his gray boxers and when you saw that, you grabbed him through the material. He groaned and his eyes fluttered shut at the touch before he thrust his hips towards your hand. Taehyung grumbled in frustration as that wasn’t enough. Without further ado, he grabbed your hand to push it away and grabbed your legs instead. 

Before you knew what was happening, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on the sofa again and he let himself slide onto the floor between your legs. He bumped into the coffee table behind him, clanking, and you watched the two bottles of lemonade wobble dangerously before they settled back down.

“Maybe I’d better move this one back a little,” Taehyung said more to himself than to you, and gently pushed the table back a few inches, giving him a little more room to maneuver. 

Without playing any more games, he snaked his fingers under the thin material of your panties and you lifted your pelvis so he could slide them off of you. Then he grabbed your thighs from underneath and pulled you to the edge of the sofa. You felt his hot breath on your heated and wet center and let your head fall backwards onto the backrest. 

“Did you know you have the sweetest pussy ever?” He gave you a quick glance from between your legs and as if by themselves your fingers found their way into his hair. Then he buried his face in your dripping folds and licked a long strip along your opening.

“Oh God,” you uttered as he placed the tip of his tongue against your clit and circled it. “Why are you so good at this?”

Taehyung’s deep laugh came from between your legs, and the vibrations from it sent more shockwaves through your body. He savored your taste, diving right in so that his nose grazed your clit and you unintentionally thrust your hips upward. He released one arm and held you in place with the flat of his hand on your abdomen. 

His lips found your clit and when he started sucking on it hard, you let your head fall back and pushed his head even closer between your legs. 

With a smack, he broke away from you and when he looked up, you could see the area around his mouth glistening. “You have no idea how delicious you are, Baby,” he murmured, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers that slid up and down, spreading your arousal. His fingers stopped briefly at your entrance, pressing the tips of his fingers inside so that he stretched you ever so slightly before running them along your labia again. 

“Don’t tease me like that, please.” Your inner walls were pulsing around nothing, just waiting to finally be filled. Preferably by Taehyung, but if he didn’t hurry, you’d have to do it yourself. 

“Oh come on, you love it,” Taehyung laughed softly, biting his lower lip as his gaze fell on his fingers, sliding in and out of you. He was giving you what you wanted, just not enough of it. 

“Taehyunggg…” You didn’t care how whiny you sounded.

But your plan seemed to work, as Taehyung suddenly pushed them all the way into you. You stifled a moan as his fingers buried deep inside you and the heel of his hand pressed against your clit. 

“Is that better?” Taehyung sounded breathless as well.

“Yes,” you gasped and Taehyung began to pick up a slow but steady pace with his fingers. You could hear how wet you were and that sound only turned you on more. “Taehy–” His name got stuck in your throat as Taehyung began to curl his fingers while being buried deep inside you. 

“What was that?” 

“Fuck you,” you blurted out between clenched teeth, but Taehyung knew you didn’t mean your insult. 

“I’d rather have you do it.” And with that, all at once, he pulled his fingers out of you. 

He eyed your torso and slid his palm over one of your breasts. Through the material of your T-shirt and bra, he let his thumb circle your nipple before pulling his hand back. “Take that off, Baby. I want to see you.”

You did and pulled both your shirt and bra over your head. When you turned your attention back to Taehyung, he had taken off his boxers so he was completely naked as well. He had taken a seat on the sofa and was sliding his hand up and down his cock. Drops of pre-cum had formed on his tip, which he picked up with his thumb when he noticed your gaze and reached out to you.

“I’m clean,” he mentioned immediately, “I got tested shortly after this started with us. Just to be safe.”

You grinned, grabbing Taehyung’s wrist and encircling his thumb with your lips. He tasted slightly salty, but barely noticeable, and with your tongue you traced along his thumb. You began sucking on his finger and heard Taehyung swear under his breath before letting it slide out of your mouth with a “pop”. 

“Okay, enough of that.” He reached out a hand towards you and grabbed what he could get, which was your forearm, before pulling you towards him by it. You almost stumbled as you were pulled forward and just barely managed to brace yourself against the backrest next to Taehyung’s head. “Sorry, but I cannot wait.” He gave you an apologetic smile. 

You placed one leg on either side of Taehyung’s hips and before you had settled on his thighs, he had leaned forward and taken one of your nipples into his mouth. Shuddering, you exhaled as he circled his tongue around the sensitive bud and sucked on it. You rested your chin on the top of his head and your fingers loosened the little knots that had formed in his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love your body,” he said before giving your other nipple the attention it needed. “It’s perfect.” His hands traveled down your body and gripped your butt cheeks, which he kneaded. “You’re perfect.”

You reached between both your bodies to take his cock in your hand and slid forward a little. With slow movements, you lowered your hips and let him slide along between your legs.

“Oh god, Baby.” 

Taehyung was now gripping your hips to get you into a steady rhythm. His cock slid so wonderfully past your wet opening, giving just the right amount of friction to your clit. You changed the angle of your hips and the next time you moved your hips forward, his tip lightly penetrated you. 

“Fuck, wait.”

Taehyung looked to the side towards his bedroom before cursing again. 

“You’re clean you said?” you asked, and Taehyung’s head snapped toward you. 

“Yeah…”

“I have a contraceptive implant.”

His mouth shaped into an “Oh” as he understood what your statement meant – and the implications it had. 

“We don’t have to, I can get a condom too.”

You didn’t miss the way he brushed his thumbs over your sides. To reassure you, or rather himself. 

“I don’t mind if you don’t.” You tilted your head and looked at him, waiting. It was his decision now, even if you could see from his expression that he had already made it. 

Then he nodded. “But I won’t last long.”

You snorted. He’d said that once before, after you’d had a particularly long foreplay. Still, he had managed to make you come twice. 

You propped yourself up on your knees and guided his cock to your opening before sliding down on it a moment later. Each time he stretched you anew with his considerable size and you took a moment to get used to it again. Meanwhile, Taehyung stroked your back, up and down your spine, until you began moving your hips backward. 

You let him slide almost all the way out of you before moving forward again. 

“Oh, Love,” Taehyung moaned, and at the nickname, your hips stalled.

Taehyung seemed to notice his slip of the tongue as well and slightly panicked, he looked at you. 

“Love?” you repeated, letting the nickname roll off your tongue. You didn’t think it was that bad…

“Do you prefer Baby?” 

You shook your head, because the longer that one word buzzed around in your head, the more you liked the sound of it. “Love is okay.”

“Just okay then?” Taehyung grinned, the tinge of panic gone again as he noticed your relaxed reaction. “Hmmm…” He left you with the false expectation that he was thinking when he suddenly let his hips snap upward. 

You drew in your breath sharply, followed by a moan. You didn’t know how he always did it, but he managed to hit the exact point inside you each time that made your abdomen contract so tightly that the knot already seemed ready to burst. 

He held you by the hips as he pounded into you from below. He squeezed your arousal out of you with each thrust and you felt both of your excitement running down your thighs, while his hands kept you upright and in place. 

“You–you’re so… so fucking wet and–and warm,” he pressed out with effort between thrusts. 

Loudly, you moaned his name. You didn’t care if his neighbors heard you, or the people walking by on the street outside who would surely have to hear how well Taehyung was fucking you. 

You raised your head, had you watched Taehyung’s cock split you apart before, and met Taehyung’s gaze. Your lips found each other in a passionate kiss and you pulled him even closer with desperate hands. One of his hands released its grip on your hips and landed hard on your ass. Your moan was swallowed by Taehyung’s mouth as he massaged the tender area.

You let one hand slide between your legs and circled your clit with your finger. The kiss was only interrupted by your moans as you were brought closer and closer to the edge of your approaching orgasm. 

“Taehyung–”

“I got you,” you heard him say, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as the knot in your abdomen released all at once and you came, clenching hard around Taehyung’s cock. 

Taehyung thrust into you a few more times before he too paused in his movements and pulled you back onto his lap entirely. His loud breathing mingled with yours as you both tried to come down from your high. 

“Oh, you’re absolutely incredible,” Taehyung said after a while. 

Your sweaty bodies had already melted into one and you felt Taehyung slowly go limp inside you. He sighed before pressing a kiss to your temple and gently lifting you from his lap with a firm grip and laying you backwards on the sofa. 

He helped you clean yourself up, being so gentle that you didn’t even flinch as he wiped away the sticky remnant of both of your arousals. While he was putting the trash away, you grabbed your underwear and slipped them on. 

You were lifting up your T-shirt when Taehyung returned from the kitchen, a glass of water in each hand. His expression changed when he saw you getting dressed. Wordlessly, you extended a hand to him to gratefully took a glass. 

“Are you getting ready to leave?” He didn’t look at you when he asked that, but put exceptionally much focus on putting on his boxers as well.

You let him ponder for a moment longer before letting your shirt fall back to the floor. “Do you have anything more comfortable?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows drew together as he looked up. 

You nodded towards your shirt in response, which was crumpled on the floor. “Maybe sweatpants and a hoodie?”

Taehyung seemed to finally understand and his disappointed expression gave way to a relieved smile. “Sure, you want me to get you something?”

You took the few steps towards him and let your fingers dance on his bare chest. “I was thinking maybe we could watch a movie? Order some food and just wind down for the evening?”

He looked at you, the question on his mind visible all over his face. “Does that mean… you want to stay the night?”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes, I want to stay the night, if that’s okay.”

Taehyung laughed, a hearty, deep laugh that you hadn’t heard in so long. “You bet it’s okay with me,” he answered, pulling you into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Love.”

Love. What a weird and funny little word.  

You couldn’t wait hearing it more often from now on.

. . . 

As always, if you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving me some feedback and letting me know what you think! That would mean a lot to me because I was really nervous to post this. Thank you! 💜

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Stannis Baratheon x OC (Reader) Notes

Que, "can a depressed person make this" meme.

I put this all at the feet of @a-libra-writes and their posts about Stannis, specifically this response to if Stannis fell in love with a maid.

I haven't been about to write for weeks, but I ended up writing ten pages worth of notes/semi fic with this idea. So, enjoy. (And seriously if you want to add your own stuff or talk to me about it, drop me an ask)

Word Count: 4.3K

Basics: Let’s call her Juliana for now (or you can think of her as a reader). Either way, Juliana was the daughter of one of the head maids at Storm’s End while her father was a blacksmith.

She spent a majority of her childhood in the castle, helping her father and mother whenever she could. It was just as much her castle as the Baratheon’s in her mind, more so if you thought about it. She was certain Lord Baratheon didn’t know how many steps led up to the highest tower or the fastest way to get to the docks or any of the best hiding places scattered throughout the keep.

She never told her mother her thoughts, or her father. They knew who their Lords were and taught Juliana to remember it. All the same, the small boy in the library buried in a book so far away from his older, louder brother, appeared to her just like any other boy in the castle.

Of course, she knew who Stannis was. He was Lord and Lady Baratheon’s second son, about a year or two older than herself.

Stannis didn’t know her name, but he had seen her with her mother and father. Her mother was a tough old goat, but he liked the way she managed to put Robert in his place.

When Stannis spotted her, he didn’t think much of it; must be dusting the shelves or something. It surprised him then when she curtsied, a clumsy but sincere gesture, before asking him what he was reading.

Stannis very curtly told her she wouldn’t know what it was about. She countered that of course she wouldn’t know unless he told her. He did and she admitted she, in fact, did not know that much about the trade routes of Essos, but it certainly sounded interesting. She asked him more questions and he, reluctantly, answered.

It became routine then, Juliana would seek out Stannis and ask him what he had been reading, and he would give her a report. Soon enough though, a report wasn’t enough. She wanted to know what the words said herself.

It was then Stannis’ turn to find her in the library struggling over an open book, desperate to make some sense of the scribbles. It took some coxing, but eventually she admitted she couldn’t read. Stannis then offered something she could never have dreamed of, a chance to learn.

Admittedly, a stubborn eight year old boy was not exactly the best teacher a girl could ask for, but considering her limited options, she wasn’t complaining. It was slow going, but eventually Juliana became just as proficient as he was; although he was a better speller.

These meetings were a closely kept secret for both of them. Juliana knew her mother would scold her for talking to the little lordling. As for Stannis, he thought it was nobody’s business. Besides, he knew Robert would tease him for spending his time with a girl. His brother teased him enough as it was.

As they got older, however, it was harder to keep this secret. Stannis’ parents didn’t say anything for some time. Yes, they’d prefer Stannis not to associate himself with the daughter of a blacksmith, but it was clear to them the relationship was purely that of friendship and Gods knew Stannis could use a proper friend. The fact Lord and Lady Baratheon did not say anything against it was the only reason Juliana’s parents kept their own mouths quiet about it, for the most part. Her mother lectured her on impropriety while her father warned her how boys changed as they grew older. “Lord or not, do not allow him to dishonor you,” he’d tell her.

Juliana knew Stannis would do no such thing, but between her parents and gossip among the other servants, she made a point to keep her head high. Low born or not, she was a woman of honor and would be treated as such.

This did not help Stannis’ growing feelings towards her. Yes, she was a servant, her hands were already calloused with work at thirteen, and her penmanship had much to be desired, but Gods she was clever. She was so much smarter than any other girl he’d met, and even most boys. She was also kind and witty and dutiful and there was something about her eyes. He never heard songs praising brown eyes. A stupid oversight by poets in his mind.

But even with all these thoughts buzzing around his head, Stannis still wouldn’t admit his feelings to be anything but platonic. She was still a servant. He was still a lord. It wouldn’t be right and Stannis would not allow himself to do anything that wasn’t right.

The death of his parents only served to drive the point home. With Robert away, he was acting Lord of Storm’s End. He threw himself into his work and rarely ever saw Juliana. Still he did notice how the food brought to him was always his favorite. He never lacked for candles or firewood. A note in her increasingly elegant hand would be left on his desk, reminding him to sleep.

If he was lucky, he’d find her in the halls. She seemed to be growing every time he saw her, even if he was still almost a full head taller than her. He’d ask her what she had been reading, and she’d answer, giving a dutiful report of the book and other goings on in the castle. They were small moments, but still a taste of the childhood too soon taken from them.

And then the siege came.

Juliana’s mother was one of the first to go. Tough goat or not, there was no surviving an infection when you weren’t being fed properly. Juliana and her father both gave her as much of their rations as they could spare, but it still wasn’t enough.

Juliana carried on for her father’s sake and took up the duties left behind. She quickly became a leader amongst the servants, dividing up rations and helping whoever and whenever she could.

Stannis often watched her, moving among the sick and dying, giving what comfort she could before barking orders like she was the captain of a ship. In some ways, she was.

They started working more closely after that. She would give her report of the goings on inside the castle while he kept an eye on the army and men outside.

It didn’t escape his notice how she tried to give him extra food. These attempts quickly ended in a stalemate as Juliana would say she had her portion and Stannis would quickly call her a liar and command her to share the plate. She stopped trying after about a month, but Stannis did notice how Renly’s cries of hunger weren’t as loud as they could be.

The longer the siege went on, the more Stannis found himself relying on her. Knowing he would see her at the end of the day forced him to focus. He couldn’t meet her with nothing to report. He was the Lord of Storm’s End. It was his duty to keep everyone in his castle safe. He would speak to her standing on both feet, even if his limbs felt like jelly. He owed her that.

The drive to hold on only grew stronger once Juliana’s father died.

Her father, Rolan, was always a strong man. He had to be, given his profession; strong, and proud. He didn’t want to die puking and begging for food he knew he daughter needed. And besides, he missed his wife. He wanted to see her again. So, one night he asked for an audience with Lord Stannis.

Stannis was surprised, but had no objections to receiving him. He knew Rolan to be a good man. If he requested an audience it wasn’t for anything frivolous.

He was right. Rolan cut straight to the point, telling him he had no intention of seeing the morning. He told Stannis there was nothing for it. He had made up his mind and that his Lordship was not the blame. He only requested two things; a sharp knife and a promise that his Juliana would be taken care of. She was a good girl, hard worker, and he knew well enough that Stannis had a fondness for her. He also knew Stannis to be a man of his word.

“Swear to me, m’lord. After I’m gone, Juliana will be alone in the world. I hoped to have her married by now, but she’s one to have her way, always has. Swear she won’t be alone and that she’ll have a place she can call home.”

Stannis nodded, his words clear even if his throat was dry. “I swear to you, your daughter will always have a seat at my table.”

Rolan bowed his head. “Thank you m’lord. And just one last word from a dead man. You do anything to bring her dishonor, I’ll come back and haunt yah.”

Stannis was not a religious man, but in that moment, he believed him. He handed Rolan his own knife, freshly sharpened that morning. The only thing he asked was if Rolan had told Juliana of his plan. The man just laughed and said if he did there was a good chance she’d talk him out of it; “She’s a good talker when she puts her mind to it”.

The next morning Juliana found him with a slit throat. She didn’t notice the knife and Stannis took it before she knew whose it was. It was her father’s choice not to tell her and Stannis would honor that, along with everything else.

All the same, even with the mouthful of extra food, it was too much. Juliana tried to stay standing for the morale of the staff and men, to keep Renly from crying, just to see Stannis at the end of the day, but eventually hunger and grief became too much.

On a dull grey morning, the same as all the rest had been for the past month, Renly came bursting into Stannis’ room, crying. Stannis was immediately irritated, assuming it was another tantrum about food, but in the midst of the babbling and sobs he was able to make out a few words: Juliana…not breathing.

He didn’t think he was capable of moving so fast. He grabbed Renly roughly by the shoulders all but shaking him, demanding to know where she was. Renly blurted it out and Stannis was off calling behind him to make sure Renly got Maester Cressen.

He found her near Renly’s room. The image would stay in his nightmares for years: pale skin stretched over bone, her dress falling at her shoulder showing the sharp spikes of her collarbone, her entire being completely still. He tripped over his own feet collapsing at her side.

How had he missed how frail she was? Stupid of him. Rats or not, he should have forced that damn stew down her throat.

His hands shook as he turned her onto her back. It’s then he saw it, a slight movement of her chest. It was enough.

With his last bit of strength he somehow managed to pull her into his arms and carry her to Renly’s bed. It was a short distance but the strain took everything out of him.

Renly and the Maester Cressen found them there: Juliana laying still on top of the covers with Stannis in a crumpled heap beside her.

Cressen’s instinct was to go to his lord, propping him up right and bringing the honey water to his lips.

The jostling shook Stannis awake as he battered the Maester’s hand away before pointing him towards Juliana. Maester Cressen began to protest, but Stannis cut him off with a look of righteous fury worthy of the Baratheon words.

“I am your Lord. Do as I say, and keep her alive.”

They kept her in Renly’s room. It was best not to move her and admittedly none really had the strength to.

Cressen did as he Lord bid and kept Juliana alive, but he told Stannis she wouldn’t wake up until he could properly feed her. He knew better than to suggest putting the girl out of her misery. He had kept silent, for the most part, on Stannis and the servant girl’s odd friendship. He knew Stannis to be too logical to allow it to go further than that, and while the girl overstepped her bounds at times with Stannis, she never assumed to do so with the rest of the family and was a good, honest worker besides. Seeing Stannis now, however, gave him pause on his Lord’s true feelings.

For his part, Stannis was beyond caring what anyone thought of his conduct towards Juliana. He still did his duty. He still checked on his men and made sure rations were evenly distributed. He even discovered the chart Juliana had made, calculating how much the food could last the castle as well as a stock list of every available scrap of leather. He noted with an ache just how much better she had gotten with figures.

It pained him to see her lying there, frail as cracked glass just waiting for a stray hand to shatter her to pieces, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. So, he stayed in Renly’s room, working and watching until the sun came up the next day.

A week passed with no real changes, save for his own growing fatigue. He was finding it harder to walk out of the still room. He was having a hard time remembering the last words he spoke to someone. He was sure this was what dying felt like. He thought of Juliana and wondered how long she had felt like this without his knowledge. The guilt gnawed at him just as bad as his hunger. But then, one day, a miracle; onions.

Davos Seaworth, a smuggler made it through the Tyrell lines bringing with him salted pork, potatoes and an ungodly amount of onions.

Just the promise of food was enough to bring Stannis back to himself. He made certain the men were properly fed, then Renly, the remaining servants, Maester Cressen, Juliana and then himself.

She still couldn’t properly eat, but onion soup did more for her than honeyed water ever could. Color came back to her cheeks. Her skin was still stretched and her eyes bruised, but her breathing was deeper and steady.

Stannis was finally able to leave the damn room on two legs, allowing Maester Cressen to do his work.

Another week straight of onion soup and Juliana was finally strong enough to open her eyes. The first face she saw was that of Maester Cressen, carefully pouring some warm liquid down her throat. She helped it along, barely tasting it but feeling its effects instantly.

“Is it over,” she asked, her voice a cracked ghost of what it was, but there all the same.

Maester Cressen shook his head.

Immediately Juliana recoiled from the soup, a sudden dread taking her.

“Not to fear, m’lady,” a different voice spoke. “Just onions.”

Her vision was still a little blurred, but she could make out just enough to know she had never seen him before.

“Not a lady,” she murmured. “Ser?”

“Not a ser,” the man said. “Davos, Davos Seaworth.”

She smiled, but her voice was too gone to respond. Measter Cressen pressed more soup into her mouth before she settled back on the pillows and fell asleep.

The interaction surprised Davos. From the way he had seen Lord Stannis watch her and the men spoke of her, he thought she was surely the Lord’s intended, if not his wife. Maester Cressen clarified, stating she was a maid in the castle. Davos didn’t take Stannis as the type of man to have a mistress and Cressen was quick to assure he was not. Davos wasn’t sure what to make of it then. All the same, he made certain to tell Lord Stannis the girl had woken up.

Stannis took the news in stride. Were he any other man, Davos would have assumed he didn’t care, but the pause in his hand was enough to convey it was taking everything in him not to drop what he was doing and bolt to the girl’s side.

“Was she awake when you left her,” he asked.

“Sound asleep,” Davos said. “But not before she got a few words out and a bowl full of soup in her belly.”

Stannis nodded and turned back to his work. Davos left him alone, and with more questions than he had walked in with.

Stannis quit early that night, or rather early for him. The sun had only set an hour before. He took measured steps down to that still room. To his surprise, he found Renly there, chatting animatedly away.

He wanted to curse the boy for disturbing her, but the small smile on her lips gave him pause.

She was smiling again. She had managed to turn her head, giving Renly her full attention, and her eyes were open.

To hell with the Tagaryeans and Lannisters and Starks with their violet, green, and grey eyes. What did they have compared to her brown?

He pulled Renly away, telling him Juliana needed rest. The boy began to protest, but Juliana soothed him, saying she’d see him in the morning. It was enough to at least get Renly out of the room.

They didn’t say anything. Juliana didn’t have the strength and Stannis was never the best at starting conversation between them. He took a place beside her, and for the first time since they were children, took her hand in his.

Her skin was cold and rough to the touch. He could feel the outline of her finger bones. The squeeze of her hand was just a wisp of a thing, but all of it was enough to choke the air from his lungs. With a boldness he didn’t think he processed, he allowed his spare hand to brush some of the stray hairs out of her face before coming to rest on her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, and Stannis wondered for a brief moment if he had dreamed of the Onion Knight. Perhaps this was just a comforting fantasy his mind had concocted moments before death. The only thing keeping him from submitting to this delusion was the knowledge that, if it was a fantasy, Juliana would be in his arms by now whispering promises he dare not give voice.

“Rest now,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

And he was.

Not long after Ned Stark came to Storm’s End, and the siege had ended. With the help of Davos, now Ser Davos’ onions, Juliana was able to actually stand and perform minimal duties.

Stannis had started giving her more financial work to go through, essentially making her an apprentice to the current steward. There she stayed, even after Stannis was called to King’s Landing to sit on Robert’s small council as Master of Ships.

They wrote regularly, Juliana keeping him up to date on all the goings on in the castle and the Stormlands while he wrote of his growing annoyance with Robert and the rest of the imbeciles.

He considered, multiple times, sending for her. Gods knew he needed someone to talk to with actual sense. If she were a man or even a lady of a minor house, he might have. But being in the capitol reminded him how her low birth would be looked down upon. He couldn’t be with her every waking moment, and too many men would take her unremarkable last name as permission to do as they pleased, his brother included.

He comforted himself with the knowledge that when the last of the fighting was done, he would return to Storm’s End. He’d see Juliana then. The rest would come as it will.

But, he wouldn’t return to Storm’s End. Storm’s End would never be his. Instead, Robert gave him Dragonstone, and Renly was giving their childhood home, Juliana included.

Stannis then made a rash decision, he sent for her. Renly could keep Storm’s End. Robert could snub him and laugh and joke, but damn them to all seven hells if they stopped him from seeing the one person who made starvation and the looming figure of death bearable.

There was talk, of course. There was always talk. Juliana was nothing as far as the court was concerned. Never mind that she was clever and took to any subject of study with the devotion of a Maester, or that those who did not know her assumed to status as a high lady given the honor in which she carried herself. She was the daughter of a blacksmith, and Lord Stannis Baratheon sent for her, personally.

Juliana heard the talk, but never sunk to answer. She kept to herself and the study Stannis had provided for her. She had money of her own and enough sense to know what to spend it on. She wasn’t there to play the games of court. She had a duty and she would do it with honor, as she did everything else.

The only person who seemed to understand beside Stannis was Renly, and for that at least she was grateful. Renly was vastly younger than both her and Stannis, but he was a smart lad. He could see the connection between her and Stannis, but he also knew them well enough to know nothing in either of their natures would allow them to cross the line into something more.

This came to a head when Robert announced he had made a match for Stannis. Selyse Florent came from one of the many houses in the Reach, a necessary alliance considering which side the Tyrells had found themselves during the war. Stannis wanted to refuse, but he held his tongue. It was his duty, after all. He was the second son. What had he expected? He was never a romantic. He knew any wife he took would be for the benefit of his house. Juliana wasn’t his. She never was nor could be. He often wished she would marry, it seemed he would beat her to it.

He agreed, but the sullen silence after only prompted Robert to say something stupid.

“Not to worry, brother,” he assured. “There’s nothing stopping you from keeping that servant girl of yours. Don’t need to keep it a secret either. Half the seven kingdoms already knows you’re fucking her.”

And that’s when the full fury of a Baratheon comes out. If it weren’t for Renly and Jon Arryn stepping in between them, there was a solid chance Westeros would have one more dead king on their hands.

Stannis went back to his rooms, but the conversation still rattled him. The court could whisper all they liked about him. They were a den of snakes, it was to be expected, but Juliana was a different matter. He had promised her father he’d never do anything to bring her dishonor. He hadn’t so much as touched her since the siege, but bringing her to court threatened her reputation all the same.

He asked her if she knew about the rumors and she told him plainly she did. She told him it was a small price to pay for a life and independence she had never dared dream of before. He knew her and she knew herself, that was enough.

He wanted to kiss her then, but instead he told her of his betrothal. He also told her that once he was married, he wanted her to go with his new wife to Dragonstone and act as steward. People would still talk, but at least Juliana would be spared their noise.

Juliana kept a passive face when she told him the news, accepting the position with the grace that was her custom. It was only when she was alone did she allow the tears to flow. She knew she would never call Stannis husband, no matter how many times she lay at night wondering what her life would have been like if she were just born into some minor house in the Stormlands. Maybe she could have been a ward to the Baretheons. Maybe she and Stannis would have met at one of the many tourneys. Maybe so many things. She knew their parting was inevitable. She just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

To her surprise, a knock came at her door. Renly stood before her with a look of understanding at her red eyes. He offered her a handkerchief and she started crying all over again.

Renly told her what Robert had said and Stannis’ reaction. He tried to assure her that he knew Stannis cared about her in a way he didn’t think his brother was capable of. Juliana just smiled and told Renly she already knew all that. Neither of them had said it in so many words, but they each knew the love between them was real. At least, Juliana hoped Stannis knew.

This is where my thoughts get a bit more broad and scattered:

Juliana does go to Dragonstone with Selyse to act as Steward

She and Selyse do not get along, while Juliana tries to maintain a respectful relationship with the Lady of Dragonstone, Selyse had already heard the rumors of her and Stannis before she came to King’s Landing and decided to despise the girl from the moment they met

When Shireen is born, the disdain Selyse has for Juliana only increases

Juliana adores Shireen and made it her mission to make sure she knew she was loved

Juliana and Stannis continue to write while he’s in King’s Landing and she makes a point to include how Shireen is doing and what new thing she’s learned; she also encourages him to write his daughter back, but Stannis ends up to writing what he means to say in his letter to her instead

She and Ser Davos become good friends

Stannis sometimes laments Davos is already married; if Juliana were to marry anyone, it should be a man like Davos

[cobrakaisb]

modern day romeo and juliet part 2

read part one here!

a/n: here is the largely anticpated part two of the imagine! after getting numerous asks begging for a part two, i decided to finally publish it. sorry it took me so long besties but school and softball have been kicking my ass lately. love you all!!! 

summary: you and hawk are going strong but your friendship with sam and demetri has fallen apart, or has it. (also warning: reader gets a bloddy nose in this imagine if that bothers you in anyway don’t read)

word count: 1,711

“so are you and hawk like together now?” moon asked as the two of you walked to the cafeteria. “yeah,” you answered, a light blush coating your cheeks. “oh my gosh yes! i’m so happy for you!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, squeezing tightly. “thanks moon,” you replied half-heartedly. moon immediately picked up on your sad demeanor, “what's wrong?” “nothing,” you answered, giving her a fake smile. moon was going to call your bluff, but she was interrupted by hawk. “hey guys,” he greeted, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hi hawk,” you replied, arms wrapped around his waist as he swayed you back and forth. “are you sitting with us at lunch?” he asked, looking at you. “yeah probably. your friends won’t mind right?” you asked. hawk immediately shook his head no, the two of you just staring at each other intensely. “you guys are so cute! i’ll see you later y/n,” moon announced, walking away from you and hawk. the two of you pulled apart, hands intertwined as he led you over to the cobra kai table. 

“anything from sam?” hawk asked quietly. you gently shook your head, causing hawk to frown. he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “she’ll come around,” he assured. “i hope so,” you mumbled as the two of you sat down at the cobra kai table. your sad mood was immediately lifted however when doug and big red started throwing napkins at you. 

“i can’t believe she’s actually sitting with him,” demetri said, appalled at the fact that you were sitting with hawk at lunch. “why wouldn’t she be sitting with hawk? they’re together now,” moon said, a happy smile on her face as she watched you laugh from your spot next to him at the cobra kai table. “i still can’t believe that. how could y/n even like someone like him?” sam asked, angrily stabbing at her lunch with a fork. moon’s eyes widened as she watched sam. “aren’t you happy for her?” moon asked, confusion clear in her voice. 

sam scoffed at moon’s words. “why would i be happy that she’s fraternizing with the enemy?” sam asked. “the enemy? do you even hear yourself?” moon asked sam, and even demetri looked surprised by sam’s words. sam was silent, shooting a sad look your way. “you regret it don’t you?” demetri accused sam, but she just remained silent, looking down at her lunch. “regret what? what did you guys do?” moon asked. 

“when we caught y/n and hawk kissing at your party a while back, we may have kicked her out of miyagi-do,” demetri mumbled, feeling ashamed by their actions. “are you kidding me!” moon yelled, causing some heads to turn, but she just shooed them off with a wave of her hand. “that’s why y/n has been so down lately? because you kicked her out of karate?” moon asked, while demetri and sam just nodded. “you guys are the worst,” she continued. “thanks for reminding us,” sam mumbled, sparing a glance at you. 

you were laughing at something that doug had said. “that’s too funny,” you mumbled between laughs. the boys just laughed at how funny you found doug’s joke, when in reality it wasn’t meant to be that funny. “i can’t believe that you’re in miyagi-do y/n. you’re nothing like those dorks,” doug said. you tensed up at his words, and hawk took immediate notice. he glared at doug, ready to tell him off, but you beat him to it. “i’m actually not in miyagi-do any more. they kicked me out,” you said sadly. the boys all looked around in embarrassment. “but it’s whatever because i have a boyfriend and all the children we adopted now,” you joked, holding up peace signs.

“what kids did we adopt?” hawk asked, confusion clear in his voice. “literally everyone here. they are all out children,” you explained, gesturing to the table full of boys. the boys all burst into laughter while hawk just wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rest your head on his shoulder, placing a small kiss on his neck. “ew! imagine having to watch your parents do that!” doug shouted jokingly, throwing a fruit snack your way. everyone laughed at him, and soon lunch was over.        

--

“hawk! wait for me!” you shouted, walking out of the locker room dressed for gym class. hawk immediately stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up to him. “hi!” you said, giggling as he peppered small kisses all over your face. “hawk let’s go!” one of his friends yelled from up ahead. hawk grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, as he pulled you towards the front of his squad. 

together the group of you walked onto the soccer field. of course the boys were being confident, walking with their heads held high. you just rolled your eyes at them and their cocky behavior. “alright let’s remember to keep the aggression to a minimum due to the school’s new policy,” the gym teacher shouted as she blew the whistle signaling the start of the soccer game. 

almost immediately, sam and the other miyagi-do students were blatantly going for the cobra kai boys. you noticed that doug was about to retaliate but hawk held him back, mumbling something, which clearly calmed him down. the game continued, and hawk scored a goal. you cheered loudly for him, and he just winked at you, causing you to blush. the game went on, and each dojo was getting progressively more aggressive. you were running down the field when someone called you name, causing you to turn around. the next thing you knew, the soccer ball was flying towards your face. you didn’t have anytime to cover your face, and so you got hit in the face with the ball. 

“what the fuck!”  you shouted, hands flying up to your nose which was now gushing blood. “y/n!” hawk called from across the field, running over to you. “baby let me see it,” he demanded, pulling your hands away from your face. he removed your hands, and tilted your head back to help stop the flow of blood. “who did this?” hawk asked loudly, glaring at everyone around him. when nobody answered he shouted even louder, “who did it?” this time sam stepped forwards. “it was an accident, i swear,” she rushed, looking nervously between you and hawk. 

hawk rolled his eyes at sam, his jaw and fists clenching. “yeah i’m sure it was,” he growled, taking a threatening step towards her. “hawk!” you shouted, but he ignored you. “i-” sam started but she was cut off by hawk. “what? kicking her out of karate wasn’t enough? i get it that you guys don’t like me, but just because we’re together doesn’t mean that you should punish her for it. especially since we’re happy. don’t come near her again!” he finished, and you couldn’t help but swoon. he’s defending my honor. that’s so hot, you thought.  

after his conversation with sam, hawk took you to the nurse’s office. she just gave you an ice pack and some paper towels, before sending you back to class. you and hawk were walking to your next class when sam and demetri approached the two of you. “i thought i told you to stay away from her,” hawk said, stepping forward but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest. hawk huffed, but stayed quiet. it was silent between the four of you, all of you just staring at each other. “was there something you guys needed?” you asked. 

demetri cleared his throat. “yeah we were hoping to talk to you. preferably without your boyfriend,” he said and hawk tried to step forward but you stopped him once again. “yeah that’s fine. i’ll see you in class babe,” you answered, kissing hawk’s cheek before shooing him away. once he walked down the hall, and was far enough away from you, you looked towards demetri and sam. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“we wanted to invite you back to miyagi-do. it was wrong of us to kick you out,” sam said, not making eye contact with you. you scoffed at her words. “why should i even come back? you guys made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me there,” you said. “that’s because you’re dating hawk of all people!” sam shouted at you, and you glared at her. “sam! we came to make amends not cause more problems!” demetri interjected, glaring at the larusso girl. 

“look y/n, i’m sorry, for everything. i know that you really like hawk, and that the two of you are happy together. and,” demetri started, taking a deep breath, “if you’re happy then i’m happy for you. i understand if you don’t want to come back to miyagi-do or even be our friend, but i just want you to know that i’m sorry for everything, nose included.” you smiled at demetri’s apology. “thanks demetri, that means a lot. i don’t think that i’ll come back to karate, but i’d love it if we could try and fix our friendship,” you said, looking at him. “yeah, i’d like that,” demetri answered, a big smile on his face. 

the two of you turned to face sam, who remained silent the whole time. “i’m sorry too y/n. i never should’ve kicked you out of miyagi-do for being with hawk, especially since you guys are great together. and i’m sorry for your nose. i’ve been such a bitch to you, and i understand if you don’t accept my apology, but i would like to be friends again,” sam apologized, looking at you shyly. you smiled softly at the girl, “i’d like that.” sam smiled back at you. you all knew that things were going to be different now, and this isn’t something that you were just going to forgive and forget, but you were all willing to make amends and that’s all that matters. 

you walked into your next class, taking your seat next to hawk, with a smile on your face. “everything okay?” he asked, looking you over. “everything’s perfect,” you answered, kissing him softly.  

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 26 - ao3 -

“Qiren-xiong, would you like me to keep them back a little longer?” Lan Yueheng asked anxiously. He’d been biting his lip and wringing his hands and pacing hard enough to leave a mark on the floor. Lan Qiren really ought to let him go back to his mathematics and his alchemy, to abandon this sad sorry world of politics that the rest of them were mired in for the purer joys of academic discovery. “It’s just, they’re getting really insistent on talking with you…”

Lan Qiren sighed and put down the cup of tea that had already cooled without him taking a single sip.

“No,” he finally said. “It’s fine. I’m amazed you managed to keep them back this long.”

He had been working very hard these past few days. He’d just wanted a short break. An afternoon of silence, or even just a few shichen...

Apparently, he couldn’t even get that now. 

Lan Yueheng beamed. “I got Zhang Xin to help! She’s keeping them all back – elders and teachers and fellow disciples and all.”

Lan Qiren frowned a little, thinking of the lady in question, who was fierce and fiery but definitely not fearsome or well-respected enough to hold back the teeming tide of Lan sect members desperate for Lan Qiren to stop ignoring them. “…do I want to know how?”

“With a club!”

Lan Qiren did not want to know how.

“I put explosives in the –”

“Please stop explaining,” Lan Qiren begged.

“You asked.”

Technically, Lan Qiren had asked if he wanted to know, but he shouldn’t stand on technicalities. Especially not now that he was –

He stopped that thought before completing it.

“Go out and tell them that I will not be taking any questions on my living conditions, quarters or clothing, any of the current rule modification proposals - it’s far too soon - and certainly none that are just about the current situation, and also that anyone who doesn’t have a question is not welcome,” he decided. “If there’s anyone left over, they can come inside and pose their question. If it’s not a good one, I will impose punishment on the basis of Concentrate on cultivation.”

In the end, there were only three people admitted out of the disappointed throngs of disciples outside. The first two questions were appropriate ones, being both purely administrative and critically necessary to the running of their sect; the last, however…

The disciple in question was one of the gate-guards.

He saluted. “There are visitors on the way in,” he reported. “From other sects.”

“Didn’t I already give orders that all access tokens not currently in the Cloud Recesses be revoked, and no new ones issued?” Lan Qiren asked curtly. “We are not currently accepting guests, and will not be until matters have been settled. You may inform them as much.”

The disciple hesitated.

“What is it?”

“The visitors in question…” The disciple hesitated again, and Lan Qiren frowned. “It’s Sect Leader Nie and Sect Leader Wen.”

Lan Qiren had been reaching for his cup of tea again, but his fingers stopped in mid-air.

“They’ve been very stubborn. Neither has agreed to go, no matter what we tell them, and they’ve been there all day, saying that they’ll stay standing at our gate until we let them in. Do – do the same orders apply to them?”

Lan Qiren looked down at his hand, frozen in midair. His fingers were trembling a little. Strain, probably; he’d had a very bad time for quite a while now, and even though he’d taken the time for it, he hadn’t actually slept properly. He’d only lain in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to absorb whatever little rest he could.

“They do,” he finally said, putting his hands back into his lap as if he could hide his misery from himself. “Dismissed.”

The last disciple left.

“Why won’t you let them in?” Lan Yueheng asked from behind him. “They’re your friends, aren’t you?”

He paused, falling silent for a brief moment.

“You could use friends right now, Qiren-xiong,” he finally said. “You really could.”

“I know,” Lan Qiren said, and felt the bitterness rise up in his throat until it almost choked him. “They are my friends, and one even more, my sworn brother. They are that, but they are not only that – they are also the sect leaders of two of the other Great Sects. Even if they don’t want to cross me or hurt me, their sect obligations must be always in the forefront of their minds, be their primary care and consideration, just as the Lan sect must be mine.”

Now, he added. Must be mine, now.

“But…”

“The sect comes first, Yueheng-xiong.” Lan Qiren was so tired that it felt like a physical ache. “It has to come first. First and foremost, above everything else. Haven’t we seen what happens if that’s not what’s done?”

Wasn’t everything they were suffering now all because his brother had put himself first, instead of the sect? He had equated his interests with the sect and in doing so harmed the sect so deeply, harmed all their family and all the rest of them, everyone that relied on them...how could Lan Qiren willfully repeat such a mistake, no matter how much he longed sometimes to do so?

“But -!”

“I’ve made my decision.”

“It’s the wrong one,” Zhang Xin said from the door, still holding that club of hers and looking as fierce as a small angry dog. “You’re the rule expert, aren’t you? Stop thinking about your brother for a moment and focus on them. As far as I’ve always heard, the rules say that you can’t just care for the sect, you have to care for yourself, too. Or else who’d be left to care for the sect?”

Lan Qiren flinched and looked down at his hands again.

He supposed she had a point.

“Yueheng-xiong,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Go after that disciple. Tell him…tell him that they still can’t enter, but that he should pass along a message to them. Tell him to tell them…” He hesitated. “If they truly wish to remain nearby, I will be available to meet with them in Caiyi Town ten days from now.”

That should be enough time to settle everything if he really exerted himself, Lan Qiren thought. All the preparations that needed to be made before the world could find out what had happened.

“They don’t have to,” he added, bitterness curling in his gut even as he tried to make it clear that he was speaking in earnest. “If they don’t want to. I won’t be offended if they don’t.”

After all, it would be asking rather a lot, forcing them to stay outside doing nothing for such a long time. Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie: they were sect leaders both, Great Sects at their command, and not possessed of a great deal of spare time. More than that, neither of them were especially patient people in the best of times, and much less so now that they were currently at odds with each other – though perhaps the fact that they’d put up with each other’s company long enough to yell at his gate-guard suggested that their recently frozen-over relationship had perhaps at last started to thaw. 

Anyway, Lan Qiren wasn’t even doing them the courtesy of offering them accommodations within the Cloud Recesses, as anyone might reasonably expect. They’d have to stay in Caiyi Town instead, take a room at an inn like any ordinary mortal…truly, it would not be a surprise if they did not choose to stay.

It would be fine if they didn’t stay. It would be.

“I’ll pass it along,” Lan Yueheng promised, and ran out the door. Zhang Xin sniffed, but said no more. It was clear she would have preferred he do more, perhaps go and speak to them immediately, but she also knew that she’d pushed her insolence about as far as she could take it. 

She was very brave.

“You should marry him,” Lan Qiren told her, thinking to himself that someone ought to be happy even if it wasn’t him, and she blinked at him. “Yueheng-xiong. He looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky.”

Zhang Xin blinked again, and then flushed. “Well…”

“You like romances, don’t you? Why not take the next step on this one?”

She waved her hands at him. “We’ll get there! Don’t rush us.”

“You don’t have parents, right?” Lan Qiren pressed. “If you like, I can act for them in making the arrangements –”

“I’ll consider that,” she hissed, her face now bright red. She pointed the club at him, and Lan Qiren hastily raised his hands in surrender; he knew what Lan Yueheng’s explosives were like. “Go back to moping. I’m starting to think I liked you better that way.”

Lan Qiren didn’t think she did.

“I need more ink,” he said instead. If he was going to have to make up for all of his brother’s failings and get the Lan sect into the state it needed to in order to be ready to face the storm that awaited them outside their gates within ten days, he would need to work hard, and that meant starting now. “Please fetch some for me. I promise not to bring it up again.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but bustled off, and Lan Qiren turned to apply himself to work.

Work was – he could do the work.

As long as he didn’t have to think about why he was doing it, or how long he would need to do it, not think about how this work wouldn’t just be for now but for the rest of his life, he could do it.

It took the full ten days and several sleepless nights, interspersed with sleep borne of pure exhaustion, but in the end Lan Qiren managed to make all the preparations he thought were necessary to minimize or at least endure the loss of face that the Lan sect would subject to once the world heard of rumors of what had happened. Even with the sanitized, filtered, cleaned-up version of it that they intended to spread, it would still hurt their reputation.

“You should take several days to yourself,” his music teacher advised, looking genuinely concerned, and his swordsmanship teacher nodded in agreement. “There will be more work to come, but none so soon.”

Lan Qiren nodded, being too tired to care about them worrying about him now, and went to the gate.

“Zhu Dawei,” he called, recognizing the disciple there. It was the same one who had brought him the news, ten days back; the one he’d sent back with the message. “Was there…”

He trailed off, not sure how to ask the question without seeming overly pathetic – by chance, do you know if my sworn brother and best friend abandoned me and returned to their sects, as any reasonable person would, or did they decide to wait an unreasonably long time in order to talk to me?

Zhu Dawei saluted adroitly. “Sect Leader Wen and Sect Leader Nie said to tell you that they will be waiting for you at the inn along the main waterway in Caiyi Town, the one with the red awning. They’re planning on dining at you hour if you would like to join them.”

He had good friends, Lan Qiren thought, feeling stabbing pains of emotions in his chest that he thought might even be a good thing. He nodded. “My thanks,” he said, and headed down the mountain.

Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie were there in the inn in one of the private suites that were available for rich guests, sitting at a table laid out with all the local specialties: six different dishes and tea and wine. They were bickering over something or another – Lan Qiren didn’t strain himself to listen, only paused a little outside the door, watching them both for a moment. 

Having been forced to spend ten days’ time in close proximity had clearly been good for them: they were practically back to the way they had been before they’d fallen out, each one clearly genuinely at ease - Wen Ruohan with his smirks and his haughty sneers, Lao Nie with his booming laugh and expressive scowls. Perhaps they had even had the opportunity to actually talk to each other, to clear the air between them and make plain their respective positions, which Lan Qiren had been starting to think they never would - that Wen Ruohan would grow so resentful that he’d shut off his heart again and take Lao Nie back on the condition that he never speak of it again, and so let it fester as an unhealed wound. Lan Qiren had worried about the terrible things that might come of such lingering rage. He had not liked it, but had felt helpless to change it: after all, who on earth could force these two men to stay near to each other when they did not want to?

Him, apparently.

They looked good together, suited each other, he thought, watching them both. They were both tall and strong, fine men that exuded power and fierceness and determination in equal measure; it was a real pity that they weren’t quite the right match for each other.

Lao Nie caught sight of Lan Qiren standing at the door first. The moment he did, he turned away and rose to his feet. “Qiren! There you are – come in – sit! Sit, sit – have you eaten?”

“Earlier,” Lan Qiren said, coming in and trying to raise his hands in a salute that got quickly knocked aside. “I could eat again.”

“We insist on it,” Wen Ruohan said, looking him over with a judgmental frown. “I think you’ve gotten thinner…he’s gotten thinner, hasn’t he, Lao Nie?”

Lao Nie held Lan Qiren at arms length and looked him over critically. “Normally, Hanhan, I’d accuse you of being a mother hen and never let you live it down ever again,” he remarked, “but in this case I really think you’re right. His face is thinner than it was before, definitely a sign of losing weight too rapidly…tell us what happened, Qiren. There’s been no news at all from the Lan sect, only that there was some sort of crisis – some violence – and then all the gates to the Cloud Recesses were shut.”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing at his temples. He didn’t really want to think about it, but there was no avoiding it. “They were. The full details will be announced at the next discussion conference, which is coming up rapidly.”

“It is,” Lao Nie said. “I should know; I’m hosting. Will you tell us in advance what the news is?”

“I will.”

“Food first,” Wen Ruohan interjected. “No talking during meals, remember?”

Lao Nie made a face at him, but Lan Qiren smiled thinly at his sworn brother’s poorly concealed kindness and sat down. He ate quickly, the food largely tasteless on his tongue even though it was finely made and featured many of his favorites. They must have ordered them especially, knowing that he was coming tonight.

The quiet was a welcome reprieve, and allowed him to think over what he was going to say a little more thoroughly. He’d known, of course, that he’d have to tell them, but he hadn’t yet settled on exactly how to force the words from between his teeth…

When dinner was done and the dishes cleared, the only thing left on the table being the tea and the wine, he cleared his throat. “Did you rent the room?” he asked, and they nodded. “For how long?”

“We booked the whole month,” Wen Ruohan said carelessly. “It didn’t cost as much as all that.”

Caiyi Town was the nearest town to the Cloud Recesses, which was full of very rich cultivators. The prices here were far higher than a comparable inn in another place, and were nowhere near cheap even for a night - much less a month. More than that, Lan Qiren hadn’t seen any other guests, which made him suspect that Wen Ruohan had rented not only the room but the entire inn, making it the sort of expenditure more commonly seen among the scions of Lanling Jin.

Still, Lan Qiren did not complain or point out the inaccuracy. Not when he had hoped for something exactly like that.

“Good,” he said, and reached up to his forehead ribbon.

Both Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie gaped at him in stunned disbelief as he removed it, carefully folding it up like the precious thing that it was and tucking it away into his sleeve for safekeeping – even though the process took some time to accomplish, they had not yet recovered by the time he was done. They looked a bit like gawping fish.

“The forehead ribbon reminds you of your self-restraint,” Lan Qiren quoted. “I do not intend to maintain it tonight.”

More gawking. He ignored it.

“I’m intending on getting drunk,” he clarified, nodding at the jars of wine on the table. “I’ll drink as much as you allow me to. Could you keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t leave the premises? I can’t lose face for the sect right now, but both of you are considerably stronger than me, and faster, too. You can keep an eye on me and restrain my behavior, if necessary, and I would appreciate it if you would.”

“…of course,” Wen Ruohan said, exchanging glances with Lao Nie. “If that’s what you want, little Lan. We’ll care for you.”

“Can we ask why?” Lao Nie asked, always the blunt one.

Lan Qiren looked down at the table, gathered his courage, and looked back up at them. “I’m going to be attending the next discussion conference,” he said, and even he could hear how dull and depressed his already monotonous voice was. “At that time, you will need to call me Sect Leader Lan.”

“Sect - Sect Leader…? You?” Lao Nie was gaping again. “But – you –”

“What happened to Qingheng-jun?” Wen Ruohan asked, his eyes already narrowed as his mind rapidly churned over the information. 

“He has entered permanent seclusion,” Lan Qiren said. His fingers had tightened into fists again, and his knuckles were white from the strain. “Along with his wife.”

“His – wife?”

“He Kexin?” Wen Ruohan asked. “He’s married – no, she married him?”

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, because friends or no, brother or no, they were still sect leaders, still outsiders. He could not share with them the full story, at least not yet, not until he’d made sure they couldn’t use it against his sect. Not until there was a story that the whole world would accept as the truth. “They are married, and secluded. I am the next in line, and have therefore taken on the position.”

“But you wanted to travel,” Lao Nie said. “To play music, to go see new places. You had all those plans –”

Lan Qiren flinched.

“Be silent,” Wen Ruohan told Lao Nie. “Can’t you see you’re just making it worse? He knows.”

Yes, Lan Qiren knew. No one knew better than him the dreams he’d had, the plans he’d made, how much it had been a fixed part of his life – stronger than mere hope, it had been an expectation. He had never imagined that his life wouldn’t be what he planned to make of it.

He never imagined his life would be…like this.

“It is temporary,” he added, the rotten feeling of disappointment coating his tongue like a swallow of bitter medicine. “An examination has revealed that He Kexin is pregnant with my brother’s child. Although it is far too early for any medical indications, divination suggests that it will be a boy.”

And even if it wasn’t, well, Lan Yi had set a precedent for women to be allowed to be sect leaders, too.

The sect elders had compared the exceptional qualities of Lan Qiren’s brother against Lan Qiren’s own, compared their respective talents for cultivation and temperaments and their ways with people. That analysis complete, they had suddenly changed their tune: no more did they try to comfort Lan Qiren for his crushed dreams by painting pictures of the power he would obtain, of his children inheriting after him – as if Lan Qiren had ever cared about power, he who had never coveted the position of sect leader even once in his life, and had on account of his inclinations, or lack thereof, had already given up hope of children – and instead they spoke instead of Lan Qiren’s duty to his brother’s legitimate bloodline, his duty to the sect overall.

Lan Qiren had listened in silence for a while, barely restraining from sneering at their shallow and obvious hypocrisy, before striking a deal with them: he would take on the role of acting sect leader, as he had already known he had no choice but to do, and in time he would willingly step aside for his brother’s heir or heirs, if there was more than one, but he insisted on being the one to raise them.

He didn’t especially want to raise children, having no idea if he would be any good at it, but he didn’t trust anyone else in his sect to prioritize raising the children as children – as people of their own, rather than extensions of their father, as another chance to correct the mistakes of the past. To raise them with the rules as guidance, as support in times of weakness and pride in times of strength, not as an obstacle to be overcome; to try to do whatever he could to help them avoid the faults of the prior generation without crushing their souls the way his brother had tried to crush his.

He would give this unborn nephew or nephews everything he could. He would give them the rules, and he would protect them from them; he would spend the rest of his life exerting himself to clean up the sect until it was something worth inheriting, and then he’d give them that, too.

“Congratulations,” Lao Nie said blankly, and Wen Ruohan elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Lan Qiren chuckled humorlessly. “He’ll be only a few years younger than yours,” he said to Lao Nie. “And about of age with your second when he’s born, da-ge.”

“You don’t deserve this,” Wen Ruohan said, his mouth twisted with bitterness that for once had nothing to do with his own desires. “You deserve better.”

Lan Qiren appreciated the thought.

He appreciated them both being angry on his behalf, which they so clearly were. Lao Nie’s face had grown black with rage, his brows tight as if pulled taut with a string, and while Wen Ruohan’s face was calm and sedate as always, his qi seethed and hissed and coiled around them all as if he could keep away Lan Qiren’s duties by sheer force of will. He might even try, if it was something Lan Qiren would consider letting him do.

It wasn’t, though.

“The sect’s needs come first,” he said simply. “You both put your sects above yourselves; you know how it is. It’s the same for me.”

“You still deserve better,” Lao Nie said, and shook his head. “Hanhan’s right. You really do. I’m so sorry, Qiren. I should’ve been there to help more – shouldn’t have been so distracted –”

“Nothing could have been done to change it,” Lan Qiren said. He didn’t disagree, knowing as he did how careless Lao Nie had been over it all, but if he were to blame Lao Nie, he might as well blame Wen Ruohan, who he knew for a fact did know about it and didn’t bother to try to intervene – but he didn’t want to blame his sworn brother, who had no responsibility here, and he didn’t much want to blame Lao Nie, either, even if he’d said some very stupid things from a distance. It had only ever been his brother’s fault; there was nothing else for it. “It’s…”

He trailed off, not able to say it was fine, because it wasn’t. It just wasn’t true.

Do not tell lies.

“I’ll live,” he said instead, because that was. No matter what, he had to live. His sect depended on him, his not-yet-born nephew depended on him. “I’m going to become a teacher, instead. It’ll give me something to do.”

He would have more than enough to do as the sect leader, of course, acting or otherwise, and with him just barely into his early twenties he was very young to be a teacher. But he desperately wanted something that wasn’t just the sect’s, something all his own, and he had planned on being a teacher, too. Much later in life, of course, but – it was still something.

Something of his own.

Maybe he’d push the elders for permission to have children from other sects come for lessons, just to mimic the variety of the world that he was no longer permitted to go see. Sect leaders feather their own nests with the stories of others, he’d once told Cangse Sanren, that’s a way of living, too…

He had to think of it that way. If he didn’t, he’d think instead of what she said, a caged lark singing only for a select few, and that would be worse. 

“Do you have any more questions?” he added, not wanting to think of anything at all any longer. “If not, I would very much like to get drunk on your wine, if you don’t mind.”

Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie exchanged glances again, some secret communication that Lan Qiren didn’t bother to try and fail to decipher – truly, if there was one good part to the entire disaster it was that they had overcome their distance in truth rather merely on the surface – but then Wen Ruohan nodded firmly and Lao Nie began to set out the drinking bowls.

“For once, I’m almost looking forward to hearing about your sect rules,” Wen Ruohan remarked. “As long as you just tell me about them, this time, and don’t knee me in the –”

Lan Qiren grabbed at the drinking bowl, glaring at him, and Lao Nie laughed. “Let’s see how much you can tolerate,” he said cheerfully. “The liquor here is pretty mild, so start with one bowl and tell me how you’re feeling after –”

Lan Qiren drank the bowl, grimacing a little at the taste, and remembered nothing more.

[beccascribbles]

omg I LOVEDDD your manager omegaverse fic, 100000/10 (also an atsumu simp so loved that for me) I was wondering if you could maybe do a similar one with Semi (he does not get enough love) whose mate goes into heat but goes to a different school and he goes to pick her up to take care of her with maybe a dash of harassment from a stranger and he goes sicko mode >< although I understand if this is too similar to the last prompt! anyways, love your writing sm

a/n - ahrgjfofh i’m glad you liked it!! honestly had so much fun writing it mainly because of how much i like the omegaverse dynamic (kind of one of my favourite things to read) and inarizaki. not too similar at all! hope you enjoy (and that you don’t mind i made her a manager for karasuno!)

warnings - harassment (unwanted touching)

Sometimes you were jealous of the couples you would see on your walk to school. While you acknowledged that your situation wasn't the worst (you still lived in the same prefecture), most of the time you felt your relationship was long-distance. It was rare to see Semi during the week, both of your after school times being taken up by volleyball, him as a player and you as a manager. There was the occasional late night meet up, though these were rare (and had not happened recently) as you often fell into a deep sleep as soon as your head touched the pillows on your bed. You looked down at your lock screen, a grin pulling at your lips as Semi's face stared back at you. He was leant against the foot of your bed, his guitar resting in his lap, a notebook open in front of him. The love in his eyes was clear, and it made your heart clench. You missed him, craved his scent, the feel of his arms wrapped around you, more desperately than you ever had before.

"y/n!" yelled a voice, snapping you from your thoughts. You turned to see Sugawara barrelling towards you, his bag hanging loosely from one shoulder. "Wait up. We can walk in together."

You stopped, allowing your friend to catch up. Sugawara grinned over at you, taking note of the distinct purple jacket you were wearing over your uniform. He gave you a playful nudge. “I’d take that off before Kageyama or Hinata see you. They’ll throw a fit, call you a traitor.”

In response, you simply shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself and inhaling deeply. Semi’s scent was faint, almost non-existent. Sugawara’s scent was more prominent, making a small frown form on your face. It wasn’t that Sugawara didn’t smell nice. In fact, his scent was one of your favourites, calming you when Semi wasn’t present to do so. But Sugawara wasn’t Semi. He wasn’t your mate.

“Hey, earth to y/n!” yelled Sugawara, waving his hand in front of your face. This effectively snapped you from your thoughts, and you shot him a glare.

“What was that for?” you hissed, a low growl escaping from your lips. Looking rather sheepish at your sudden anger, Sugawara avoided your gaze, preferring to gaze at the approaching school gates. Briefly, he considered using his pheromones to soothe you, but something about your glare told him it wouldn’t be appreciated, that the only scent that could do anything was your mate’s.

“You were ignoring me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head, eyes frantically searching for a familiar face that might help diffuse the situation. He perked up, waving his arm in the air and calling out, “Daichi! Asahi! Shimizu!”

The group near the front of the school building stopped, turning around and raising their hands to acknowledge his greeting. Sugawara jogged forward, slinging his arm over Asahi’s shoulder. He murmured something to the group, likely a warning, and jerked his head in your direction. Kiyoko seemed to understand the fastest, being an omega herself, and headed towards you, her approach calm.

“Are you feeling okay, y/n?” she greeted, voice gentle and soothing. Her scent was also soft, washing over you pleasantly, easing your tension. You felt yourself relax, and a soft whimper escaped you.

“No,” you breathed, stepping forward and resting your head against her shoulder. Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill as the longing for Semi hit you again. “I hate it. I just want to be near him. It’s so unfair.”

She reached up, giving your back a reassuring rub as she felt tears dampen her shirt. You let out a sob, your scent souring. A small hiccup escaped your lips and you sniffled, pulling away. Kiyoko held out a tissue for you, her next words a comfort. “Skip practice tonight. Go and see Semi. We can manage without you and I’ll tell you anything important that you miss. The coaches will understand.”

You nodded, a smile brightening your features as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Kiyoko.”

Despite knowing you were going to see Semi later, the longing you felt, the desire for him, didn’t decrease. As the day dragged on, it got worse, your pheromones spiking at random intervals as if trying to call him to you. Your attempts to dampen your scent were increasingly weakening, to the point where a teacher asked you to meet them outside.

You rose from your desk shakily, legs wobbling. Beads of sweat formed at your forehead, and you swiped it away dismissively. You tugged at your collar, feeling suffocated. The teacher held the door open for you, giving you a concerned look before following you out into the hallway.

“l/n,” she began calmly, “when is your next heat cycle?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to recall the information. It had been a long time since the date had any significant meaning to you. You glanced at the teacher, quietly asking for permission to check your phone. She nodded in response, watching as your eyes widened and you breathed out a quiet, “Shit.”

The teacher’s assumption had been correct, and she could hardly berate you for swearing when the most important thing was to remove you to a safe place. She instructed, “I’ll go into the classroom and collect your things. Do you need my help to go to the medical room or will you be able to go there yourself?”

“It’s only down the hall so I should be fine,” you replied. Your heat had not fully started yet, your head still clear enough to enable you to make decisions, though you were slowly losing the ability to reign your scent in. It filled the hallway, causing the teacher’s nose to wrinkle. She quickly disappeared into the classroom, returning with your things.

“Call someone who can help you on your way there,” she commanded before stepping back into the classroom.

Hands shaking, you clicked on Semi’s contact, immediately pressing down on the call button. He was the only one you wanted to see now. Even if he was in class, you knew he would answer. He would understand it was an emergency. It was an unspoken rule to never call during the school day unless that was the case. The phone rang.

“y/n?” came Semi’s voice through the phone, rich and deep, “are you okay?”

“Eita...” you whimpered, leaning back against the wall, fingers convulsing around the phone. “Eita, I need you.”

“What happened?” he demanded. You sounded desperate, like the only thing you truly desired was him.

“I’m going into heat.”

He froze then, letting out a breath. It had slipped his mind that it was time for your next heat, evidently having slipped from yours too. Dread filled him at the thought of you, alone and defenceless. Anything could happen. His voice was tight when he spoke again. “Where are you? Please tell me you’re going somewhere safe.”

“I’m in the hallway,” you sighed. He let out a low growl at your words, not directed towards you but whoever might come across you. “I’m going to the medical room now.”

“Good,” he said. Through the phone, you could hear him running down the corridor. “I’ll see you there.”

The phone went silent, and you slumped against the wall, a pout on your face. He could have at least said goodbye. Hanging up so abruptly, though the meaning behind it was clear, still made you feel unwanted. The irrational part of your mind insisted that he didn’t want you, and you let out a pitiful whine, beginning to shuffle down the corridor. A tear dribbled down your cheek and you wiped it away angrily. The rational part of your brain knew you were being ridiculous, that Semi had hung up so abruptly to get to you quicker. You reached for the jacket you had folded up and placed in your bag, burying your face in the material and sucking in a deep breath. His scent was faint, but in your heightened state, it smelt more prominent than it had in weeks.

After a few more deep lungfuls of air, you began to shuffle down the corridor towards the medical room. A sudden pungent scent caused you to snap to attention, head jerking to the side as your eyes fell on a young alpha hovering in a doorway. Their body was tense, their gaze fixed on you. You froze under the attention, attempting fruitlessly to reign your scent back in. The alpha’s nostrils flared and they took a step forward, eyes shining with desire. Your whole body went tense, dread creeping up your spine. As you took a hurried step back, you felt your legs buckle, barely managing to catch yourself on the wall.

The alpha lunged forward, hands hitting the wall either side of your head as they leaned in, taking in a deep breath. They leaned forward, letting out a low growl as their nose traced the scent gland at your neck. You stayed still, breathing shallow, as their face buried into your neck, hoping that if you remained still they would lose interest. It was foolish of you to entertain this idea, knowing that the scent of an omega in heat was intoxicating, made weak and young alpha’s lose all sense of reason.

“Please,” you whimpered, hands going up to press against their chest, attempting to push them away from you. They simply growled, pushing closer to you, one hand bracing the wall while the other wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into skin. “Please let me go.”

It was pathetic, the way your heat made you weak. What was more pathetic was the way something as simple as an omega’s scent could make an alpha lose all sense of reason. As the alpha released their pheromones, the scent weakening you, making you dizzy, all you could do was whimper.

“Eita,” you whined, voice high-pitched and breathy. The desperation was clear in your voice, clearer by the way you weakly struggled against them. Your leg kicked out, landing a feeble strike to their shin. Still, they didn’t pull away. “Help me.”

It was those two words that filled Semi’s ears as he rounded the corner, slightly out of breath and panting from his run to Karasuno. The first thing that hit him was your scent, the second that of the alpha who had found you. He scanned the corridor for you, eyes immediately falling on your cowering figure. You pleaded helplessly with the alpha in front of you. The alpha wasn’t listening, ignoring the slight sourness to your scent, the wretched edge to your voice.

Semi’s lips curled upward, baring his teeth as a growl ripped from deep within him, the sound loud and threatening. His pheromones exploded outward, launching through the air and assaulting the younger alpha’s senses, causing them to release a choked groan. The other alpha’s head turned towards him, fighting against the more powerful alpha’s scent and growling in return.

“I found her first,” they declared. To punctuate their point, they placed a kiss to the scent gland in your neck, their teeth grazing the sensitive sink. You flinched away, fixing Semi with a helpless look, your whole body shaking with despair and disgust. Another alpha had dared to touch you in such an intimate way. The act was audacious, ignorant to the way you’d called for another alpha and the intimidating presence of that other alpha at the end of the hallway. It was this act that caused Semi to snap, his whole world focusing in on one point. It was the alpha in front of him.

He lunged forward, tackling them to the floor as his hands wrapped around the other alpha’s neck and his legs pinned the other alpha to the floor, keeping their arms trapped. He pressed his weight down on their wrists, a satisfied smirk overtaking his face at the slight cracking sound. As his hands tightened around their neck, the smirk widened, finding a sadistic delight in the choked grunt that escaped the young alpha’s mouth.

“Stay the fuck away from my mate,” he growled, shaking their limp body slightly. “You fucking piece of shit.”

Their mouth opened uselessly, attempting to speak even as they struggled to draw breath. Semi lifted their head up, slamming it back down on the floor with a loud thump. His voice was sharp as he spat, “Keep your fucking mouth shut. I don’t want to hear a word from your filthy mouth, you pathetic excuse for an alpha.”

He finally released the alpha, his hands imprinted on their neck in a ring of red. He stood up, leering over the alpha. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

They scrambled upwards, taking off down the corridor, their scent reeking of the bitter tang of fear. Semi didn’t spare them another glance, immediately crossing the distance between you and pulling you into his arms, pressing your head to the scent gland in his neck as he brushed his wrist up and down your body. You pressed yourself firmer against him, arms wrapping around his slender waist to hold him tighter. He felt tears dampen his skin, letting out another low growl.

"Fucking piece of shit," he grumbled, holding you closer. His hands slid down to rest at the top of your thighs and the slight squeeze he gave them communicated what he intended. Semi lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist and arms around his neck. A distressed whine escaped your lips as you nuzzled in closer, taking comfort in his scent. "It's okay, y/n. I've got you."

He wanted to berate you, anything to ease the tension that still locked his muscles together. He couldn't do that to you though. While you should have been aware of your heat, it was also his responsibility as your alpha to be aware of this information. He could hardly scold you for what had happened in the corridor. That was the fault of that other alpha. The very thought of it made his blood boil, and he pressed his nose into your hair, drawing in another deep breath of your scent. It reassured him that you were there, that you were safe.

"Want to go home with you," you mumbled, hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of his neck. He knelt awkwardly, keeping his balance as he picked up your bag from the floor, slinging the strap over his shoulder.

"Okay," he soothed, voice gentle as he strengthened his own scent to stiffle your own, hoping to avoid attracting any other foolish alphas. "I'll take you home."

"Don't leave me, Eita," you whimpered. "Need you."

"I would never leave you," he said, brushing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, thumb rubbing calming circles into your thigh. A pleased purr rumbled through your body at his words, and a satsified smile took over Semi's expression. "We'll be home soon, okay?"

"Okay."

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[sunjaesol]

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[h2bakugou]

Hey, I saw requests were open and got realll excited I wondering if you could do a little angsty/fluffy scenario for Bakugou where it's his s/o's birthday and him and the class starts ignoring her but their actually trying to surprise her?

a/n: hiya!! awe this is super cute and soft, and i think it’s time to break out soft bakugou again, skfjdskf thank you for the request hun!!

summary: with your birthday coming up, you half expected bakugou to at least send you a text but when it seems like the entire class is constantly avoiding you, you can’t help but feel a little bummed out, that is until...

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, some angst

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Waking up the day before your birthday was always a little nerve-wracking. You were a little anxious to see if anyone would notice. It wasn’t like you expected a big grand celebration, but you’d been stressing, even a little upset since you asked Bakugou if he would be free the day of, to which he declined.

You were almost certain he knew of your birthday, you know you've at least mentioned it a few times to him, and his mom, who has stated multiple times that she wants to have you over for cake or whatever you’d prefer the weekend of your birthday.

You were about ready to just go celebrate with Bakugou’s parents since they seemed to be the only ones who remembered, the text that had come through earlier in the morning furthering your proof of Mitsuki’s knowledge on your date of birth.

What stung a little more than the fact that Bakugou hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that your birthday was tomorrow, was the way he didn’t even think it was within the week, or even the month.

You wouldn’t have been nearly as upset if maybe he’d guessed the date wrong, but now things were just starting to make you feel upset.

It didn’t feel like something you should be so upset over. You felt a little selfish, wondering why something so small, such as acknowledgment of your birthday from your boyfriend, was bothering you so much.

Deep down, however, you were excited. For your birthday. And the warm feeling of birthday wishes, from anyone, especially your significant other, always felt ten times warm and fuzzier inside.

But you trudged on, went to class, and tried your best to keep a smile on your face. Even during lunch, Kaminari, who seemed to do nothing but run his mouth, was quiet.

Everyone was. It felt, strange.

And now, you were wondering if maybe it was something deeper. Had something changed during the week? Were you not caught up? Why did it feel like everyone at your lunch table despised you, Bakugou leading the group as he barely even looked at you when he was sitting right beside you.

But when the day was over, you didn’t even bother sitting in the commons until most everyone went to bed. You finished your homework early and sat in your dorm, trying to cheer yourself up. 

And as the clock passed midnight, you wished yourself a lousy happy birthday before tucking yourself into bed.

Nothing prepared you for what was to come when you woke up.

The ear-deafening alarm on your phone woke you up to nothing. A blank screen. One single notification about a software update on your phone. You hadn’t expected your parents to text you this early, they were probably still in bed.

Their messages came in around the time classes started.

But getting dressed and meeting up with Bakugou, you tried your best to hold your head up high.

“Hey ‘Suki.” You smiled, standing beside him as he slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave the dorms to head to school.

“Hey.” Was all he said. You nodded and sighed, staring at the ground.

“Today’s gonna be a fun day, don’t ‘cha think?” You tried to hint at the topic but nothing seemed to give.

“What, you think tests in algebra are fun?” It was like a slash to your heart.

“No, it’s my birthday.” You whispered, gathering your things and walking away, walking straight out the door to the school.

Bakugou’s heart stung. In truth, he’d arranged a whole party for you. Everyone was kind of shocked to hear the words ‘I need your help’ come from his tight lips.

He was flustered and trying not to kill Kaminari who was already making fun of him. But he’d arranged the whole thing, planning it out down to a t.

He’d asked for everyone, especially Kaminari not to say anything about it, and he didn’t think much of it. But now his heart hurt, watching you fight back tears as you felt like he’d forgotten, as if everyone had forgotten.

Bakugou wanted to chase you down, pull you into a kiss, and wish you happy birthday, but he didn’t. The surprise would be coming up soon enough.

Sato presented the cake he’d made the night before and everyone was shocked to see how beautiful it looked.

“Oh, she’s gonna love it!” Mina cheered, helping the class pull out some of the decorations.

They’d be tasked with putting up decorations during lunch and after classes let out when Bakugou would keep you in the library for at least another hour.

Bakugou would make it up to you in the end if you still felt upset. But he was counting on this being the best damn birthday surprise, especially since he thought of it.

You were the first one to class. Slumped in your seat, you noticed Present Mic walk in.

“Happy birthday! Would you like a super awesome birthday track played on my show tonight?” Mic was genuinely surprised to see you break down crying after saying something so happy.

“You’re the first person to tell me happy birthday today.” You wiped your eyes, embarrassed to be sappy in front of your teacher.

“Oh, well then an extra special happy birthday! If you’ve got a song you’d like to play, just stop on by the studio!” Mic smile before exiting. You couldn’t think of a song you’d want to broadcast to the entire school on Mic’s radio show but if something came to mind you might just have to stop by, he seemed like he could be pretty fun to party with, if maybe he weren’t your teacher.

The thought of spending your birthday moping alone with one of your teachers didn’t sound at all like the dream you’d had about today. 

No, you wanted to be hand-in-hand with your boyfriend talking a walk through a pretty park, or stargazing under the night sky, or spending time at some sort of amusement center with your class, having fun.

But as students piled into the classroom, not a single happy birthday left any of them.

Not even Bakugou who now knew.

Getting through class was about as fun as watching paint dry. But when it was done, everyone rushed out, leaving you confused.

“Where is everyone going?” You asked, stopped by Bakugou who’s hand landed over yours on the top of your desk.

“Hell if I know.” He stared down at you, books in hand.

“You don’t wanna go with them?” You looked away, pulling your hand out from under his.

“Don’t tell me you already forgot.” You mumbled. Bakugou tugged you along to the library, silent the entire way.

Sitting across from him, you didn’t even have a clue as to why you were here, but not even thirty minutes later you were being tugged right back to the dorms.

“What’s your problem?” You stop, about three minutes away from the dorm.

“Huh? The fuck are you talkin’ about?” Bakugou stopped, his hands slung in his pants pockets.

“It’s my birthday Katsuki. And I told you that earlier, and you couldn’t even remember for a couple of hours? Am I that forgettable to you?” You sniffled, staring at him as your eyes began to sting with tears.

“I was busy. Had to focus for all that work.”

“And you still avoid saying it! I just, I just wanted to hear it from you. Is it so selfish of me that I just want to hear my boyfriend tell me happy birthday?” You felt like digging a hole and crawling into it. 

With shut eyes, squeezed so tight so you couldn’t see anything, you felt a hand land in yours, fingers intertwining with yours.

A finger under your chin lifted your head up, tear-stained cheeks and all, and a warm pair of cinnamon-tasting lips landed on yours.

“I never forgot, dumbass. I just wanted today to be special.” Bakugou whispered against your lips. Suddenly his free hand landed over your eyes as he tugged you along, your hands now gripping at his arm.

“Hey! Wait, what’s going on?!” You shrieked, confused as you moved unconsciously.

“Just hush for five seconds.” Bakugou sighed, pulling you up to the dorms, shoving you inside.

Removing his hand, Bakugou landed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes opened.

Your once rapidly spinning world was now standing still.

“Happy birthday!!” Your peers cheered. Familiar faces of your classmates, friends from Class 1-B, the Big Three, Eri, even Mr. Aizawa, and All Might were standing there in cheesy party hats.

“Wait...” You sniffled harder, tears now pouring from your eyes.

"Ah, don’t cry, idiot!” Bakugou shook your shoulders from behind you.

“I thought you all forgot! How could I not cry?!” You wiped your eyes with both of your hands, trying not to laugh at yourself.

“You can thank your boyfriend for the party! We were all gonna get you gifts but Bakugou suggested a party!” Kaminari finally blurts out.

“You were all so quiet, because of this party? And it was all your idea?” You turned to Bakugou. He sighed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

You gave him a big hug and pressed a cute kiss to his cheek, earning a few ‘awes’ from some of your peers.

“Thank you. Thank you all.” You tried to stop crying, but it felt impossible. Bakugou just nodded, ushering you to go and give some people hugs.

The festivities lasted pretty much all evening, from opening gifts to eating the delicious cake Sato baked for you.

You had a fun time with everyone, and after thanking everyone for the time, you sought after Bakugou on your way back to your dorm with all of your things.

“I’m sorry. For earlier.” You apologized, feeling a bit embarrassed for seemingly going off on him.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry for acting like a dick. I just wanted to surprise you with the best fuckin’ party.” Bakugou’s intentions weren’t vile, and you couldn’t be mad at him. You shook your head and pulled him into your dorm as you set your things down.

“Can we watch a movie together, and cuddle? I think I could take that as an apology.” You smirk.

“I know you’re not mad. But if that’s what you want.” Bakugou gets into his usual position, under your covers, waiting for you to join him. You stood speechless.

“Wh- I went off on you! Of course I was mad- But- I-” You huff and crawl into your bed beside him.

“You’re not still upset is what I’m trying to say, dumbass. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.” Bakugou kissed the top of your head. You snuggled into his side and smiled.

“You really planned that whole party just for me?” You looked up at him as he selected a movie to watch.

“I wouldn’t be the best fucking boyfriend if I didn’t.” He said smugly.

“All for you. And I would do it again.” Bakugou glanced down at you.

“Because you deserve it. I love you.” Bakugou mumbled his ‘I love you’ a little softer, but you heard.

“I love you too.” You lean over and peck his lips, smiling as you snuggle into him, ready to unwind after having so much fun.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist