#when he finally warms up to you (might not take too long tbh) he’s all over you 24/7 :-)

[togament]

you feel togame’s larger hand rest on top of yours while you’re both sitting next to each other. you look over to him and it’s like he’s not affected by it at all, scrolling through his phone without sparing you a glance. your heart breaks a little but you swear you feel his grip tighten slightly when you attempt to move away (you think he did it on accident and hasn’t noticed)

…unbeknownst to you, his heart’s already beating a mile a minute and he prays you don’t feel the sweat forming on his palm.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 10 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: side character breakup, jungkook is still a little jealous lmao, alcohol, curses, they both are anxious to lose each other tbh, explicit content: hickey, breast play, oral sex (male receiving), jerking off, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 10.1k

☆a/n: fun fact, this is the chapter that made me choose the title for this fic!! and this is also where the angst starts :') I hope you still enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, March 25th 

You hate college. More specifically, you hate having to turn in multiple lab reports every week. There’s just something about building a lab report that irks you.

You don’t know how researchers do it. You think you’d go insane if you had to write report after report after report but…

You’re already going insane after all.

You sigh, rubbing a hand on your forehead as you look at the tables you’ve been trying to make for half an hour. Yoongi, sitting across from you, raises his head from his laptop, an eyebrow cocked. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, going back to your report as he doesn’t pry, focusing back on his own work.

As much as he spoke to you at the party last week, Yoongi has been a lot more silent today. You reckon you might know why - Hoseok said in the group chat that he’d come to study too, and he’s yet to show up. It’s evening now, and you have a feeling he’s just not going to come. 

You don’t know if you can entirely blame him - it’s Spring Break after all, and most people are trying to forget about college for the week. 

But you can’t, because you’ve got that lab report to work on and a final to study for.

You blink a few times, trying to bring your laptop back in focus, and then you go back to work. You spend another thirty minutes fixing the tables, not caring that the titles clearly could be better. Nabi said she’d go over everything you’ve done, and you know she’s much better with titles anyway.

You’re lucky she’s your lab partner. 

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you startle, looking up at him.

Right in time, your stomach grumbles, and you let out a small laugh. “Yeah, a little.”

“Want to order burritos?” Yoongi suggests.

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles, picking up his phone. The smile that was on his lips dies almost immediately, and he deeply sighs. You furrow your brows questioningly, glancing outside of your study rooms.

Jungkook isn’t working today, yet you find yourself looking for him all the same. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask Yoongi, pushing Jungkook away from your thoughts.

Even though every thought of him makes you warm inside, giddy like a teenager with a crush.

“Hobi,” Yoongi simply replies.

You purse your lips, picking up your water bottle to take a long sip as you search for something to say. You settle on, “You guys talked after the party?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, sighing deeply again before handing you his phone. “Just choose which burrito you want.”

You grab his phone, quickly choosing what you want to eat as he remains silent, typing away on his laptop. You’re aware he’s avoiding the question, but you have a feeling he needs to talk. It’s in the way he worries at some dry skin on his bottom lip, an anxious tell you recognize all too well for having it too.

“How did the conversation go?” you ask as he finishes up the order, putting his phone back down on the table.

“It went okay,” he admits, yet he looks defeated. You understand why when he adds, “He told me he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

You widen your gaze. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi laughs bitterly, slightly shaking his head. “I feel blindsided. We were all happy before the party and now…” He shrugs vaguely, letting out a choked sound that almost passes as a chuckle. “It just came out of nowhere.”

“I’m really sorry…”

He shrugs again. “What can you do? I really just jumped in too fast without realizing that he was reluctant. I was stupid.”

“I don’t think you were stupid,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve had feelings for him for a long time, and it felt like you were finally getting something in return. Anyone would have been blindsided.”

“I should have known when he insisted we take it slow and not share a room though,” Yoongi insists. “And though the sex was great there was a lot of stuff he was uncomfortable with. Not that I ever did anything without him wanting to do it but…” He wets his lips, glances your way before setting his gaze on his keyboard again. “I was his first guy.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you admit.

Pink dusts Yoongi’s cheeks, and you can tell he’s embarrassed by the turn of the conversation. So this time you don’t pry, letting him figure out what he wants to say next.

“I think he realized that he’s not into guys all that much,” Yoongi eventually says. “Like… he wanted to try it out and turns out it’s not as nice as he thought it’d be kinda thing, you know?”

You nod. “It sucks that it had to be with you though. You didn’t deserve that.”

Another shrug, like it’s all Yoongi knows to do right now. “Yeah, I guess.” He chuckles, a sad sound that makes you want to get up and hug him, though you know Yoongi’s not big on physical touch. “I don’t know if I should be mad or sad,” he admits a few seconds later.

“You’re allowed to be both.” He cocks an eyebrow as if not convinced. “I’m serious,” you insist. “You like him. Obviously, it’s going to hurt if he decides he doesn’t want to be with a guy. And obviously, you’re allowed to be mad too, because to you it can feel like he was leading you on.”

Yoongi meets your gaze. “Have you ever thought about becoming a therapist?”

His statement surprises you, and you laugh, scrunching up your nose. “No?”

“I think you’d be good,” Yoongi says. He sighs deeply again, picking up his phone. “Food’s on its way.”

You’re technically not allowed to eat at the library, so you end up eating on the steps outside when the food arrives, the fresh evening air welcoming after being stuck in a small, stuffy room for a couple of hours. Yoongi keeps pouring his heart out to you all along, as if he’d been holding everything in for too long, and the dam finally burst.

You’re happy to be there for him. Even though most of it is the same thing as at the party last week, you’re happy he’s comfortable enough to confide in you, and you try to cheer him up. 

“If you want,” you say after a time. “I could try to speak to Hobi. See what he really thinks about this all.”

Yoongi holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking away, his eyes shifting to the cloudy sky. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says. “I’ll just have to move on.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just nod. “Your choice. I’ll be here for you.”

He smiles, sighing. “I know. Thank you.”

On that note you return to your study room and to the lab report awaiting you. Yoongi busies himself with his composition as you work, and you finally finish taking care of the text for the results about half an hour later. Nabi said she’d do the discussion, so you send her the link, asking her to tell you if she wants you to fix anything, and then you close your laptop, folding your arms on top of it.

“Done?” Yoongi says, pushing his headset down so that it rests around his neck.

You nod, dropping your face on your arms. “And I’m dead.”

“When do finals start for you?” he asks.

“Next Tuesday,” you admit.

“Isn’t that early?” Yoongi asks, gaze widened in surprise.

It might be. You only have one then though, and you still have two weeks of classes in your other courses before the rest of your finals. You’ll still take it - it means one less final during the true final week.

You tell so to Yoongi, who admits he doesn’t have finals, instead having projects in three classes. It leads to a conversation where you compare biology to his music major, and another fifteen minutes go by in comfortable silence when the conversation dies of its own volition, as you scroll on your phone and Yoongi keeps on working on his music composition.

You startle when someone knocks on the door of the study room. You glance that way, eyes widening when you notice Jungkook on the other side. Yoongi lets out a small laugh at your expense, and you get up, opening the door for Jungkook. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he walks in, two coffees in hands. 

“Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You take it with an eyebrow cocked quizzically, and then you watch him as he drops in one of the empty chairs at the table. He’s got a backpack with him, and he pulls out a laptop and a notebook from it while you and Yoongi are just stunned silent.

“What are you doing?” you ask again as you sit back in your chair. 

“Figured I’d come study here with you guys,” he explains simply.

You glance at Yoongi, who shrugs.

“Oh?” you let out, settling your gaze back on Jungkook.

“Unless you guys don’t want me to?”

Yoongi saves you by replying, “No, you’re all good man. I was leaving anyway.”

He clearly wasn’t, as you’re the one who finished writing your report and he was still in the middle of his composition, yet he still gets up, closing his laptop and putting it in his backpack.

“Text me if there’s anything,” you tell him as he’s sliding one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods curtly. “Will do. Thanks for everything.”

You offer him a small smile, and then he’s walking out, not once looking back. 

“Did you really have to come here?” you ask Jungkook, and it sounds far more accusing than you meant it to be.

“What?” he lets out. “Just wanted to see what the hype is all about when it comes to the library.”

You offer him a no-bullshit look. “Were you jealous because I was studying alone with Yoongi?”

Jungkook frowns, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. His lips jut out in the hint of a pout, and something melts inside of you, like it always does when it comes to him.

“He’s the one that left the second I got here,” Jungkook points out.

“Because he’s going through a hard time, dumbass,” you say, punching Jungkook in the shoulder. 

He rubs at the spot, his pout intensifying, if that’s possible. “He still could have stayed, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong, and though you really want to be there for Yoongi, you know he’s the kind of person that needs space a lot. Or at least that’s the impression he’s given you in general, and you really hope he didn’t leave because Jungkook showed up.

“I was done though,” you admit, patting your closed laptop. “I was thinking about heading home.”

Jungkook flicks your nose, taking you by surprise, and you sit back in your chair as you shriek. It earns you one of his bunny grins, and you truly are melting like snow in the sun. “Well then you’re going to have to stay with me for a little longer, mmh?”

You tilt your head to the side, though you can’t help the smile that tickles the corners of your lips. “And do what?”

“Study?” he sarcastically lets out. “Do whatever it is that you bio majors do.”

You end up doing so, rereading your notes for your first final. It’s boring, and you don’t think it’s really productive when Jeon Jungkook is sitting next to you, stealing quick glances in your direction. 

You catch him for what feels like the tenth time, and you roll your eyes. “Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you offer as an explanation. “We should go home.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Why?”

“People could see us here.” And go and tell Taehyung about it.

“I’ll handle Tae if he gets upset, don’t worry,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, but it does the opposite.

Indeed, a drop of lead forms in your stomach because, what if Taehyung learns?

You don’t want him to know. It’d complicate everything, ruin everything. 

“Besides,” Jungkook adds, “I’ll have to handle him in April anyway.”

You frown, a confused crease streaking across your brow. “Why?”

Jungkook meets your gaze. “I’m going to Paris with Jimin to see your brother at the end of the semester.”

Your heart starts racing in your chest, anxiety flooding your blood. “Oh?”

Jungkook toys with his piercings, scanning your features carefully. “Yeah. It’s been planned for a while.”

“You didn’t tell me.” You’re aware you once again sound accusing, but you can’t help it.

Not when you see the expiration date of your relationship with Jungkook flashing in your mind.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just didn’t think to tell you? I thought I mentioned it when we Facetimed Tae the other day.”

You can’t blame him for not explicitly telling you - the trip has likely been planned for a while, and it’s not like you speak about your brother a lot. Though you mention him once in a while, you’ve both been good at avoiding talking about him. Now that he’s mentioned the Facetime call though, you do recall, and it’s like a hand is squeezing around your heart some more.

“No worries,” you say, and you offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When do you leave?”

“April 29th, I think? I’ll check.”

You nod, and you look away from Jungkook to stare at your laptop instead, though your gaze loses its focus as your brother invades your thoughts. You think about what he’d say - you know he’ll be furious, and he’ll likely kick Jungkook out of your apartment. 

Jungkook will never be able to handle Taehyung. Not when he’s being an overbearing asshole like only he knows to do.

“Peach,” Jungkook says in a small voice that almost sounds whiny. “Why do you look so upset?”

“You can’t handle Tae,” you say. You worry at your bottom lip and then take a deep breath. “It’s really better if he doesn’t know.”

Jungkook remains silent for a few seconds, though he nods his head. “Okay.” He nods again, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Do you want to head home then?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a beat of silence. “Yeah, I think we should go home.”

Jungkook’s gaze drops to his laptop, and you feel bad. You truly do - he looks defeated, much like Yoongi looked like earlier.

“Can we watch something when we get home though?” you quickly ask.

You can’t help it. You can’t stand the sight of Jungkook upset - it’s just wrong to you.

He immediately brightens, a small curving his lips upwards. “Yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah, definitely. Should get some cuddles in too.”

His smile widens, and he meets your gaze, the usual mischievous twinkle back in the depths of his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

And it really is. You think, you don’t need more with Jungkook. You don’t need the relationship to change, don’t need anyone to know. Because it’s simple right now, and there’s beauty in its simplicity. 

Wednesday, March 27th

“Don’t!” you shriek, but Jungkook ignores you, stealing the TV remote from your hands.

“We’re not watching your reality TV show,” he says as he plops down on the couch into a lying position.

You glare at him, frowning as you fold your arms on your chest. “You like it.”

“Sometimes.” He flashes you a bunny grin that makes you gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “But right now, I’m in the mood for a movie.”

You look up to the ceiling, searching for salvation yet finding none. “What movie?”

“Just come here,” he says, opening his arms for you.

You can’t resist. His gravity is too strong, and he pulls you in, like he’s the sun and you’re the comet. 

Though you might come from the Kuiper Belt, you know you’re bound to crash into him anyway.

Once you’re nestled in his arms, Jungkook resumes his scrolling on Netflix. 

“What about this?” he asks.

“Extraction?” you say as you eye the movie he stops on. “I’m not in the mood for action.”

“Then a romantic comedy it is.”

You chuckle against him, pecking the mole on his neck. He chooses the movie Always Be My Maybe, and then tightens his grip around you.

“I like that movie,” you say.

“You’ve seen it already?”

You reach for his hand before he’s able to change it. “Yeah, but I don’t mind,” you reassure him. 

He nods, and that’s how you end up watching the movie, slowly dozing off on his chest. You’re in and out of sleep, watching the bright screen whenever you wake up, and when the credits roll in, Jungkook yawns over you.

“Were you sleeping?” you ask, faking offence.

“You were,” Jungkook points out, flicking your nose as you raise your head to look at him. 

You move your face away, resting your head on the couch. “Barely.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, and then you both burst out laughing. 

You like this. You like the intimacy of being with Jungkook in your own home, like that in between these walls you get to call him yours. It’s treacherous, but oh so inebriating, like he’s summer wine you’ve become addicted to.

Instead of watching another movie, Jungkook goes to his room to retrieve his speaker, and he puts a random playlist on while you fetch a rosé bottle from the fridge, where you’ve left it before watching the movie. You’d decided to spend the evening in despite both your friends and his friends asking to hang out, and so you’d gotten a bottle earlier today.

That, and the board game Ticket to Ride, your favourite board game.

“That’s not how it works,” you complain a while later, when you’re one glass in and Jungkook grabs a locomotive and wagon card from the five on the side.

“What?” he lets out.

“If you take a locomotive you can only take one card,” you remind him.

It’s his first time playing, and though the game is fairly simple, you’ve noticed Jungkook has a tendency to try and cheat his way to the win. You’re tempted to let him keep the two cards when he offers you puppy eyes, yet you stand your ground, holding your hand out.

“Give me the wagon back.”

“Take it from me,” he teases, lips stretching in a smirk.

“Oh, you want to play this way?” you reply in the same teasing tone, and Jungkook toys on his piercings.

“Maybe?”

You get up from where you’ve been sitting on the floor, walking to the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, an apprehensive yet excited look in his eyes, and he laughs the second you drop behind him, hands aiming for his sides.

He leans against you, his large frame almost enough to make you crumple to the floor, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Give me the wagon,” you repeat.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m not playing the game anymore.”

He looks over his shoulder at you, a pout on his pink lips. “Okay then, take your wagon back.”

He gives it to you, and you smile victoriously before pecking his cheek. “Thank you.”

You walk back to your side of the table, though you stop halfway, eyes brightening.

“I love this song!” 

Jungkook leans back on his hands, tilting his head to the side as Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol starts playing.

It was your favourite song growing up. You used to listen to a different version of it you’d heard on Grey’s Anatomy, and you’d listen to it whenever you felt sad. Whenever you needed to feel like you weren’t alone in the universe, like someone was waiting for you, somewhere.

And as you look down at Jungkook while the lyrics start, you know someone was waiting all along.

“Sing it for me,” Jungkook says, smiling softly.

You can’t help the blush that creeps on your cheeks. “I don’t know how to sing. But you do!”

He chuckles, yet immediately starts singing as you offer him a hand to pull him up to his feet. He obliges, and he rests his large hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close. He sways you to the music as he softly sings, cheeks dusted in pink, and you pull him even closer, resting your head on his chest.

Simple intimacy. That is what you and Jeon Jungkook are made of, and you think, if he’d ask you to lay here, in this moment, you’d lie with him until eternity took you in its hold. Until you’d be nothing more than dust between the stars - remembrance of what was once great. 

But April is looming closer, a giant towering over the both of you, one step away from crushing you under its boot.

“You know,” Jungkook says while the song continues in the background.

“Mmh?” you let out, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are heavy with emotions, and you swim in them, bathe in them. You feel complete, cherished, and you hope he knows you feel the same way.

You hope he knows you’ve been falling in love with him despite the odds.

“I’ve never been like this with anyone before,” he admits, his voice gentle. “I’ve had situationships, I guess, but nothing like us.”

You smile softly, your heart racing in your chest. “Me neither. You’re the first.”

It’s true. Though you’ve sort of dated Sam Hwang for a few weeks during the summer, it was nothing like it is with Jungkook.

Sam Hwang never looked at you the way that Jungkook looks at you.

Jungkook leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he keeps on swaying you both to the music, the song nearing its last chorus. Your eyes flutter shut from the proximity, and your breaths mingle as you fall silent for a few seconds.

“I love having firsts with you,” he whispers.

You almost reply that you love him. The moment calls for it - the atmosphere is that of romance,  the music is close to your soul, and he… He’s the blood in your veins and the oxygen in your lungs. Yet you can’t say it - you’ve never told anyone you loved them before. And you’re not even sure you truly love him. Yes, you have feelings, but everything is overshadowed by the knowledge that you’re bound to end.

You don’t want to tell him you love him and make it too real only to have him slip from your fingers the second Taehyung learns.

“Me too,” you instead reply. “I love spending time with you.”

It’s as close to the truth as you’ll get, and he allows it, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. It’s slow, patient, like the whole universe will pause for you two. He pulls away when the song ends, bending to grab his phone on the table. 

He restarts the song, and the second his phone is back on the table again, you pull him back in, tiptoeing to kiss him again. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against him, and you sigh at the pillowy softness of his mouth, at the way his piercings feel just right pressing indents in your lip. His free hand cups your cheek, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, almost hesitantly, but you open up for him immediately, tasting the rosé in his mouth as he kisses you deeply, languidly. The kiss never accelerates, yet it’s infinitely passionate.

Much like that first kiss you’d exchange, during the power outage on Valentine’s Day.

You think you knew then - he’d kissed you so softly, like you were fragile, just a flower petal a second from being blown away. Even then, he’d cared for you, and it’d scared you.

But there’s nothing scary about this. There’s nothing scary about the way he gently hikes your shirt up to slide his hand underneath it, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s nothing scary about the way he sighs when you run your hands through his hair, gently tugging at the soft strands. There’s nothing scary about the way he backs you towards the couch, spinning around at the last second so that he can sit down.

There’s nothing scary about him pulling you in, always, so that you straddle his lap, connecting your mouths again a second later. No, it’s only natural. He’s the wind and you the leaves. He’s the sun that shines on you, his moon.

You were always meant to collide after all, and though the aftermath might be terrifying, all you can do right now is enjoy it while it lasts.

Jungkook tentatively grinds up, his arousal evident as he presses against your clothed self. You let out a breathy sound that makes him push his tongue in your mouth, and you suck on it, earning a grunt from him as his hands drop to your hips to drag you on him again. You grab at the hem of his shirt, disconnecting your mouths just long enough to pull the fabric off him, and then you’re kissing him again, crashing your lips on his hard enough that you think you taste blood, though you don’t care.

You just want him. Need him, so viscerally you think you’ll combust.

“Peach,” Jungkook lets out as you move to his neck. 

Unable to resist, you suck a hickey on him, a bright purple mark on the spot where his shoulder connects with his neck. He groans, leaning his head back against the couch to give you better access as you lick at the spot, soothing the sting.

When you straighten, Jungkook meets your gaze, his chest quickly going up and down. You’re just as out of breath as him, and when he reaches for the hem of your shirt, you let him take it off you, leaving you in only your black lace bralette. He looks at your breasts, cupping them in his large hands as he sighs appreciatively.

“Every time it’s like you get more beautiful,” he murmurs, and he looks up at you then, his eyes crinkled at the corners in what you can only call adoration. 

“Kook…”

His hands return to your waist, and he wets his lips, playing with his piercings. You grind against him, and his eyes immediately flutter shut.

“You think we can fuck out here?” you tease, rolling your hips.

“On the couch that your brother bought,” he replies, and there’s something so sinful about the thought that you know you’ll do it.

It’s not like Taehyung is around and will know.

So you bend forward, capturing Jungkook’s mouth in another languid kiss while you unbutton his pants. When the button comes undone, you straighten, standing between his legs so that you can pull the jeans down his legs. You leave the boxers on, eyeing his length as you kneel, hands resting on his thighs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Yes. But please be quick, I want to be buried inside of you.”

You narrow your gaze at him, but let out a laugh despite yourself. 

You focus on his dick again then, on the wet spot at the top where his purple underwear has turned darker. You bend forward, littering small kisses along his shaft, and you tentatively lick at the wet spot, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. And though you’d planned to tease him, to be the brat you know he likes, you give in right away, pulling his boxers down just enough so that you can lick at his slit.

He lets out a breathy sound that has you bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s got his head thrown back, eyes closed, and from this angle, all you can see is his sharp jaw.

You pull his boxers down more, and he helps you by raising his ass for a few seconds. His dick springs free, already rock hard, and you immediately grab the base to hold it up as you finish taking off his boxers, letting them tangle around his ankles. You’re quick to lick a long stripe from between his balls up to the tip of his cock, and then you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him.

He bucks his hips, fucking up into your mouth, and you moan when he hits the back, your eyes immediately watering. 

He lets you lead after that, hands lost in your hair as you bob your head up and down, working him closer to his high. You love the feel of him in your mouth, love the way he grunts and praises you under his breath, and you think you’d be able to come from just hearing him, pleasuring him. 

It doesn’t get to that though. When Jungkook truly nears his high, he pulls you away from his dick, and you meet his gaze to see his pupils are blown wide, filled with so much lust all you can do is obey when he says, “Go get a condom in my room, mmh?”

You nod, and you get up to walk towards his room, feeling his gaze burning on you as you pass the threshold and head to the night table. You pull a condom out, and you walk back to the living room to find Jungkook jerking himself off, his grip on his dick tight enough you know it has to hurt a little.

“Put it on for me,” he says, and he stops jerking off, holding his dick up for you. 

You sit next to him, pulling the condom out of the tinfoil package, and then you roll it on his dick. He hisses as you do so, but the second it’s on he pushes you back until you’re lying on the couch and he’s hovering over you. 

His hair falls in his eyes, and you quickly push the strands back. He leans in, pressing his lips on yours for a kiss far softer than what you expected, and you smile against him.

He grins when he pulls away, eyes shining with lust and adoration again, and then he’s taking off your pants, taking his sweet time. Kissing every inch of skin revealed, from your inner thigh to a spot below your knee. He stops after that, instead eyeing the wet spot on your underwear, and then he pulls at his piercings, sending you a dark look that makes you go molten.

“I want to fuck you in this,” he says as he finishes taking off your pants, his free hand going to your hip where he traces your underwear. “Want to ruin your panties.”

“Do it,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t need to hear more before he’s returning over you, and his hand pushes your panties to the side so that he can run a finger between your folds, and then circle your clit. You grind your hips, seeking more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t oblige, instead pulling his finger away from your pussy.

“Be patient,” he whispers, and then he kisses you again.

The kiss is feathersoft, gentle, and you lose yourself in the very essence of him. You don’t care - you just want this moment, forever. A scene constantly replaying, away from the atrocity of the world, with your favourite song as the background music.

“Please,” you beg in a soft murmur when he pulls away from your lips, and this time he obliges, returning his hand to your pussy. This time, he pushes in, and you sigh against him as your walls clench around his digit.

“You’re already so wet,” he says, and then he’s kissing you again, his tongue lapping at yours. 

You moan in his mouth, hands lightly scratching his back as he adds a second finger. You can hear squelching sounds between your legs, and you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck,” you curse, and Jungkook chuckles, pecking your cheek.

“You take my fingers so well, peach,” he praises. “Will you take my cock just as well?”

You moan again, and you nod your head yes. “Yeah. Please.”

He smirks, pulling his fingers out of you. You both eye them - they’re covered in your juices, and it’s decadent, sinful.

Even more so when Jungkook puts them in his mouth to clean them thoroughly, drinking in your juices. 

“So sweet,” he whispers after, and then he shifts, straightening between your legs so that he can align his dick with your entrance, your panties still pushed to the side. He meets your gaze, his own dark with lust. “How do you want me tonight?” he asks, rubbing his dick on you slowly.

“Just fuck me, but come near,” you say, pulling on one of his wrists so that he leans over you again. 

He smiles, infinitely soft despite what you’re doing, and then he pushes in, ever so slowly. Inch after inch, Jungkook spears you with his dick until he bottoms out. He stills there, and you wrap your legs around his dainty waist to keep him as close as possible. He obliges, stealing a deep kiss on your lips, and he slowly pulls out before slamming to the hilt again, and you moan in his mouth.

The rhythm he establishes is slow and steady. Deep, in a way that makes you see stars in his gaze. Or maybe that’s just the way the light reflects in his eyes, or the emotions still swirling in the depths of him. You don’t know. All that you know is that you’re falling and falling, with no chance to ever stop now.

You’ve crossed too many lines to ever be able to stop. So you’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Chase all the cars around his head until you can’t anymore, until the last nail is in the coffin and you have to say goodbye to this, to him.

But for now, you enjoy. And you enjoy as best as you can, eyes fluttering shut as he slightly picks up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You hold him close, arms and legs tight around him, and you moan as he makes love to you.

At least that’s what this feels like. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. You just want the warm proximity of his body on yours, of his lips kissing your mouth. Jungkook gives you all, and you hope he knows you’re giving all to him in return.

Everything. You’ll give him everything until you have nothing left to give, if he so takes it.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. He slows down his rhythm, meets your gaze. “I’m really in love with this pussy of yours.”

You know why he says it that way. Know exactly what he truly means but can’t say, and you take that too, keep it locked up in a safe corner of your heart.

“I know,” you whisper, cupping his cheek, and he rests his forehead on yours again.

“I’ll fuck you like this every day,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.

A promise that maybe you’ll make it past your brother’s return.

“Please do,” you beg, and then you’re kissing again, and he’s pounding into you harder, seeking completion for the both of you.

You come before him. Nails digging in his back while you arch yours, walls pulsing around him. That’s what sends him over the edge, and Jungkook climaxes, his head falling in the crook of your neck as he comes and comes.

He’d paint you white if it wasn’t for the condom, and the thought makes you grind your hips instinctively. He kisses your neck in retaliation, and you moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access.

When you’ve come down from the high, you glance towards the coffee table and your abandoned game of Ticket to Ride. The sight makes you laugh, and you press a soft kiss on the mole on Jungkook’s neck as he asks, “What’s got you laughing?”

“We never finished the game,” you remind him.

He lifts his head just enough to look at the coffee table. “Damn,” he lets out. “I totally forgot about that.”

You can’t blame him. When you’re together, you forget about everything, too - he becomes the center of your universe. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Should we finish it?” you ask.

He meets your gaze, pecks your forehead once. “Shower first?”

You can’t say no to those big doe eyes, so you follow him to the bathroom.

And while he washes your back, you hear the clock ticking, your expiration date looming closer with every second that passes.

Saturday, April 13th

The movie theatre is packed. 

You’re waiting in line for popcorn with Nabi, Namjoon and Ria, while Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi go to the bathroom. The hall of the movie theatre is loud, and you’ve been standing in silence with your friends as you wait for your turn, though you’ve been eyeing the menu as you’re trying to decide what to order.

You settle on a medium-sized bag of popcorn to share with Yoongi, and Namjoon and Ria grab different candies and chocolate bars for themselves and your other friends. You’re walking towards your movie room when you notice an all-too recognizable tattooed boy, who stands taller than the group that surrounds him.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and he grins broadly as he waves at you.

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at you - Jimin, Sera, Lisa and Eunwoo - and you smile at them, though your gaze quickly shifts back to Jungkook.

You’d told him you were coming to the movies with your friends before going out for drinks. You’re not surprised he’s decided to pull up - despite everything you’ve told him, he’s jealous of your friendship with Yoongi. Which you reckon is funny - Yoongi is trying to fix things with Hoseok, and all you’ve been doing is offer help to him when he needs it.

You don’t think the relationship is fixable, but you haven’t had the strength to break it to Yoongi yet. Not when they had a moment last week, and he’s been far too happy about it since then.

You walk over to where Jungkook’s standing, your friends in tow. It’s hard to stop yourself from hugging him, but you manage to do it, instead greeting everyone and smiling at Jimin as he asks what movie you’re going to see.  

“Dune 2,” you reply. 

Jimin snorts, saying, “Thought so.”

It sounds ominous, and you slightly furrow your brows, glancing towards Jungkook. He only shrugs his shoulders as he purses his lips.

And that’s how you end up mixing friend groups for the movie. You’re not surprised when Jungkook manages to sit on your left - he’s clearly been scheming for this all along. Yoongi, entirely oblivious, sits on your right.

“I haven’t even seen the first movie,” Yoongi says as he leans towards you. He quickly glances further down the row, where Hoseok sat with Namjoon and Nabi.

Jungkook mirrors Yoongi, and he’s so close you catch a whiff of the detergent he uses to wash his clothes. “It was practically a walking simulator in the desert. Not much to miss.”

Yoongi nods, sitting back in his seat. He offers you a knowing look, and then turns towards Seokjin and Ria on his other side, joining whatever conversation they’re having. You purse your lips, before sliding your gaze back to Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“My friends wanted to see the movie,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought we could go at the same time.”

You look up to the ceiling, though a smile is playing at the corners of your lips. “What a coincidence.”

He grins. “What a coincidence indeed.”

It makes you chuckle, and before you can say anything else, the light of the movie theatre dims, leaving you in only the glow of the screen as it comes to life.

You eat your popcorn as many movie trailers pass on the screen, Yoongi taking some once in a while. The movie starts when you’re halfway done with the bag, and soon you’re lost in the scenes, too focused to eat.

That’s when Jungkook strikes, stealing a handful of popcorn from your bag.

“Hey!” you whisper-shout, and he winks at you as he eats a mouthful of the snack. 

“What?” he whispers back once he’s swallowed.

“That’s mine.”

He flicks your nose, leaning closer to say directly in your ear, “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours, peach.”

You narrow your gaze. “You haven’t even bought any snacks.”

He shrugs. “I knew I’d steal yours.”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head as you look back towards the screen, and he chuckles softly. Scenes flash in front of your eyes, and you get lost in the action. It might be an hour later, or just a few minutes, when Jungkook pokes your knee, attracting your attention.

You glance at him, but he’s focusing on the screen, his skin looking honey-like in the light. You furrow your brows in question, but when he doesn’t say anything, you shrug, looking back at the screen.

He does it again thirty seconds later, and this time he’s stifling a laugh when you glance at him.

“What do you want?” you whisper as you lean closer to him.

“You,” he replies simply, his eyes darkening as he meets your gaze.

You gulp. “We’re in the middle of a movie theatre with all of our friends.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve just been thinking of how you feel around my…”

You punch his shoulder before he can finish his sentence, and Lisa throws you a look that makes you sit back in your seat, folding your arms on your chest.

“Just focus on the movie, Kook,” you mumble.

He chuckles again, but before he can say anything else, Lisa nudges him. He glances at her, leaning closer when she whispers something you can’t quite hear. 

His whole demeanour changes after that, and he sits back in his chair, a slight pout on his lips. Gone is the playfulness, but you think it’s safer that way. He’s way too obvious when you’re in public, and though Taehyung still hasn’t said a thing, you know it’s bound to explode in your face soon.

Jungkook is leaving for Paris in just a few weeks after all. 

It douses you, and you finish watching the movie with a lump in your throat, one that doesn’t disappear even when you’re at the bar later, your friend group mixing with Jungkook’s far too easily. Of course, Jungkook notices, and he sits next to you, nudging you.

You glance at him, noticing the concern in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” you lie, but he sees through it immediately.

“Is it your cramps?”

You’re on your period. Obviously, he knows, and he’s been sweet about it, buying you snacks and putting his hands, always warm, on your lower stomach while you cuddle. 

You purse your lips, shaking your head. The concern doesn’t disappear from his features though, and you feel bad. Enough so that you say, “I’m just…”

You trail off as Lisa appears, sitting on the other side of Jungkook with two beers in hand. She gives one to Jungkook, who thanks her quickly before setting his gaze on you again. Yet she lingers, and you find yourself unable to speak, shrugging your shoulders.

“If there’s anything, just let me know,” Jungkook says, and he offers you a small smile that does nothing to tame the worry in his gaze. “I don’t mind heading home earlier.”

You nod once, and the conversation dies as Hoseok appears on the other side of the table, cheeks red with the shots he’s already downed.

“Not drinking tonight?” he asks you.

You shrug. “Not really in the mood.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze in his suspicion. “I’ve never seen you not in the mood to drink.”

You chuckle. “Well, now you have.”

You’re relieved when he lets it go, especially as you sensed Jungkook tensing by your side, an indication that he was going to intervene if Hoseok didn’t drop it. There’s a short silence, during which you notice Hoseok looking at Yoongi where he’s drinking with Namjoon and Seokjin, a few tables over.

You glance at Jungkook, motioning towards Hoseok. Jungkook frowns, not understanding, and you quickly pull out your phone to text him.

[10:37 pm] You: i want to talk to hobi about yoongi but not in front of you guys

Jungkook pulls out his phone to read your message. He doesn’t reply, yet he nods, turning towards Lisa. “Where are Sera and Jimin?”

“Ordering something at the bar,” Lisa replies, entirely unaware. “Why?”

“Want shots?”

Lisa beams under Jungkook’s gaze, and you taste bile in your mouth as they get up and walk away together, Jungkook shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder.

You can complain all you want about Jungkook being jealous of Yoongi, but you’re just as jealous of Lisa after all.

“What’s up with you and Yoongi?” you ask when they’re out of earshot, gaining Hoseok’s attention.

“Man…” he trails off. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to switch universities?” 

You’ve been asking yourself that question for weeks, but Hoseok has been good at avoiding you, clearly realizing that you’ve grown closer to Yoongi.

Hoseok widens his gaze, and the blush on his cheeks deepens. “No? I said it’s because I’m following a professor.”

“What professor?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Hoseok shrugs, his eyes dropping to a knot in the wood of the table. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my friend,” you remind him. “No matter the history that we have. I’d be sad to see you go.”

He chuckles, and it’s a lot more bitter than you ever expected to hear him. “Listen, I don’t really want to be questioned. Is Yoongi the one that asked you to ask me this?”

“No,” you say. “Not at all. I’m just worried about you.”

“About me?” he repeats. “I’m all good, Y/n.”

He doesn’t sound convincing at all, so you say, “Just make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I already did,” he admits, and his glance towards Yoongi is far too telling. “I’m not into him like that. I don’t even know if I’m into men like that.”

“Have you told him?” 

He shrugs. “Here and there. I think he knows.”

You think so too, as Yoongi had mentioned it when you’d studied together a few weeks ago. 

“Just make sure you’re honest with him, and honest with yourself,” you say after a few beats of silence.

Hoseok purses his lips, nodding once. “Will do.”

The air turns awkward as Hoseok just keeps on staring at the knot in the wood. You feel bad - you used to be a lot closer to him, and in just a few weeks, your relationship shifted. But you think it might be for the better - you can’t imagine how Jungkook would feel if you were close to someone you used to sleep with, considering he’s jealous of a friend you’ve never done anything with.

Not that that would stop you from being friends with someone. Especially not when April 29th is coming soon, and with it, your situationship - you’re not sure you can call it a relationship - will end. 

“Where are you moving?” you ask.

“San Diego,” he replies quickly, and a shy smile appears on his lips, like the thought excites him. “I can’t wait to not have to deal with winter anymore.”

“I can imagine,” you say, chuckling. “Though winter wasn’t too bad this year.”

“If there was an inch of snow then it was bad.” He says it wisely, and this time you laugh as he breaks into a smile.

The conversation is easier after that. Still heavy, because you both know the friendship likely won’t survive the distance, but you still manage to have fun as you speak about classes, about life, and about what he’ll do once he’s in California. Half an hour passes like that, and then you move to the bar, agreeing to grab a single drink.

You settle on an Amaretto Sour, and Ria and Nabi join you at the bar. You end up doing Lychee bombs with them, and then you follow them all back to the table where the rest of your friends are, along with Jimin, Sera and Jungkook.

You’re relieved to see Lisa isn’t there. Not that she’s not nice. She always is, despite her obvious attraction towards Jungkook. And though she clearly senses that something’s happening between you and Jungkook, she’s never said anything, and you respect her for it.

You sit between Nabi and Ria, and Nabi quickly melts against Namjoon next to her. You snort at the sight, turning to say it to Ria, who seems to be in a staring contest with Seokjin across the table.

You don’t really know what’s happening between the two. Ria mentioned that she’s not interested in him, saying he’s just gotten out of a relatively long relationship, and you’re not close enough to Seokjin to know his opinion.

You’re just observant, and you know just how much the air fills with electricity when these two are concerned. Lightning is bound to strike at some point, and you just hope it does so without hurting anyone.

You wonder, is that how the people around you perceive you and Jungkook?

The evening unfolds, calmer than your usual outings - you find yourself going home just a little after midnight. Jungkook’s with you, and he unlocks the door as you slowly walk up the stairs, shooting you a glance.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks as you finally reach the top.

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze. The streetlight down the stairs reflects in his gaze, and he looks angelic, innocent like this.

“Yeah, I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re leaving soon.”

His features soften, and he opens the door for you to walk in, following behind you. “I know,” he says once he’s shut the door.

You turn the lights on, meeting his gaze. Unable to help yourself, you cup his cheek, thumb swiping at his skin. “Want to share a bed tonight?” you ask.

As if you haven’t been sharing a bed for weeks already.

“Yes, of course,” he immediately agrees, and he covers your hand with his own, tugging you closer. “If you kiss me first.”

That makes you smile, like only he knows to do, and you tiptoe, pressing your lips on his in a featherlike peck.

“That doesn’t count,” he complains, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“Then kiss me,” you challenge. “Kiss me stupid.”

You don’t need to ask twice - he closes the distance between your mouths, lips ravaging yours, and you lose your hands in his hair.

Later, after you’ve sucked his dick in the shower - you don’t like having sex on your period, but you still wanted to make him feel good - you lie down in your bed, the fairy lights making the atmosphere far gentler than it should be.

It’s treacherous, and you lie with your head on Jungkook’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Chasing Cars is playing on his speaker, and you hold him tighter, putting all of your love in the act. He kisses the top of your head, mouth lingering against you.

“I’m happy you came tonight,” you admit. Indeed, despite the anxiety of Taehyung learning, you like hanging out with Jungkook. Like spending as much time as possible with him right now - the clock is ticking after all, and the sound resembles that of a bomb about to go off.

“Me too,” he whispers. 

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Have you talked to Taehyung recently?” 

The question takes him aback, and his eyebrows knit together. “I speak to him almost every day, why?”

Because you’ve been avoiding your brother like the plague. Because you know the second you speak to Taehyung, you’ll blurt out the truth, and you’re not ready to face his reaction yet.

You doubt you’ll ever be ready.

“How is he and the girl doing?” you ask. “Ariane?”

“Good,” Jungkook answers. “They’re pretty much official now.”

Your lips stretch in a thin line, and you rest your head on his chest again. 

You don’t want him to see the jealousy in your gaze.

“Good for him.” It sounds just as flat as you feel - like a tire pierced with a nail, emptied of all air.

Jungkook must feel it too, because his grip around you tightens, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. As if it’d save you from the looming heartbreak.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jungkook whispers a while later, when you thought he was asleep. 

You hope he doesn’t take your silence personal - you just don’t think you can figure it out.

Taehyung would never let it happen. So silence is what you offer Jungkook, and you wonder if the beat his heart skips is an indication that he’s breaking, much like you are breaking too.

Sunday, April 28th 

Time goes by fast. Sometimes, you think it’s even faster when you’re trying to hold on to something - like sand slipping through the fingers of a fist held tight, time has been slipping away.

The end is near. 

You’re sitting on Jungkook’s bed, watching him as he packs his suitcase. He’s been lazy, stopping often so that he can kiss you, hold you. He’s been clingy lately, much like you’ve been.

Like you’ve been trying to fit a whole relationship in just a few weeks. 

Jungkook lifts his head from his sock drawer, meeting your gaze. He smiles, but there’s sadness behind his pupils, lurking in the depths of his eyes. You want to take it away, but all you manage to do is smile a weak smile.

“I wonder if they’ll want to go to the Catacombs,” Jungkook says.

He’s been saying random stuff once in a while as he packs, grasping for a conversation you haven’t been able to join in. But you try, you always try, and you know he’s not mad at you for it.

Jungkook could never be mad at you. 

It’s strange how he changed in the last four months. You think back on the Incident, that dreaded Incident you had believed to be the most embarrassing thing in your life. Today, you know it wasn’t. It was the start of something great, something you wish never had an expiration date.

But nothing gold can stay, or so they say.

“I bet they’re creepy,” you answer. “Not sure I’d go if I were you.”

“I assume you’re the kind of person who gets scared while watching horror movies too, huh?” Jungkook teases, and he walks towards you, hands full of socks.

He drops them in the suitcase at your feet as you slightly shake your head, a teasing smirk growing on your lips. You doubt it meets your eyes, but it’s the best you can do.

“Says you, who prefers watching romance over action,” you tease.

Indeed, the first few times you’ve watched movies together, he’s suggested going for action first. But he never once appeared disappointed when you chose a romance movie, instead beaming at you as he nodded enthusiastically. It was adorable, endearing, like everything is when it comes to Jungkook.

You can hardly believe he used to sleep around, used to be the most renowned fuckboy in your college. Nowadays, Jungkook appears more like a hopeless romantic, and it’s easy to figure out why.

As someone who never received love from his family, he’s been craving it his whole life. At least you think so, and you’ve been giving it to him, pouring it to him, by actions rather than words.

“Nothing beats romance,” he declares, and you chuckle as he plops down on the bed next to you.

You turn your head towards him as he lies down, one hand on his chest.

“Is that why you cry in every movie?”

He frowns, a pout adorning his lips. “I don’t.”

You cock an eyebrow, because obviously he does, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. 

No matter how dreaded the circumstances are, the chemistry between you and Jeon Jungkook is undeniable. And as you look at him, you wonder if there’s a universe out there where you’re allowed to be with him. Where older brothers aren’t a thing, and where you get to call him yours, to scream it from the rooftops.

It douses your enthusiasm, and your smile falls as you look away. 

Jungkook sits up, cupping your cheek to force you to look at him again. He scans your features for a few seconds, and you stare at his eyebrow piercing, as if that will keep you from crumbling.

“You know…” he lets out. He sucks on his lower lip piercings, pulling at them so hard you think it has to hurt. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I really want to make us work.”

His simple sentence empties everything in your head, in your soul, until there’s just him left. 

“But how?”

“I’ll speak to Taehyung,” he says, for what has to be the thousandth time. Indeed, you’ve had that conversation before, but you never once agreed. “I’ll speak to him in Paris, and then when I come back this doesn’t have to be over.”

“This?” you repeat.

“Us.”

You sigh, and you look between his eyes. Hope lights his gaze, and you think there has to be a museum out there to exhibit such beauty. 

Jungkook is breathtaking in every way that matters.

“Tae will kill you,” you say, and the hope slowly withers like flowers in the fall. “Try to have a nice trip instead.”

“Then we can talk to him when I come back,” Jungkook suggests. “Together. I can use you as a human shield if he tries to kill me.”

You snort, and the hope reignites in his gaze. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then he’ll be mad,” Jungkook simply states. “I don’t want to lose you, peach.”

Fuck. You’re in love, and you’re in love deep.

“You might lose his friendship,” you say, but your resolve is melting away far quicker than you expected. Because he’s offering you a silver lining, a life vest in the storm that’s been raging inside your head for weeks.

“I honestly don’t care,” Jungkook says, but you see it in his eyes: he cares, and he’d be hurt. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

You highly doubt so but… what if he does? What if he forgives Jungkook, forgives you?

Then you wouldn’t need to travel to another universe. You’d have this one, and you’d have Jungkook.

Maybe you should try.

“Are you sure?” you ask, voice smaller than the atoms holding your body together.

He nods vehemently. “I am. 100%. I don’t want to lose you when we’ve barely just started.”

“Kook…”

He kisses you then, as if he needs to show you with action instead of words. You end up tangled in his bed, your bodies connected on a level deeper than the physical, yet you wouldn’t dare say it. And he doesn’t either, not even when you inevitably go to bed later that evening. 

You’re nestled in his embrace, a few minutes after he’s turned his LED lights off, when you say, “Kook?”

“Mmh?”

“Don’t talk to Tae in Paris,” you say. “We’ll wait for you to come back. And we’ll talk to him together.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. If that’s your wish, then I can do it.” He’d said so earlier after all.

You nod. “I think it’s better if it comes from us both instead of just you.”

“Makes sense.” Jungkook kisses your forehead, and a soft smile spreads on your lips. “And peach?”

“Yeah?” you murmur.

“If you miss me too much, feel free to sleep in my bed and wear my clothes, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses your forehead again, and despite the words exchanged, you fear it might mean goodbye.

Prev | Chapter 10.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

no but why did I forget how sad this chapter was? Help, they are so afraid to lose each other :') anywayyys what did you guys think about this chapter? Did you like it?? Please let me know:)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as types of soulmate aus

requested by 🍉 anon! this one was cute hehe

masterlist

seungcheol

soulmark that complement your soulmate's. they're not exact replicas, but rather pairs of shapes that fit together well, and if someone other than your soulmate touches the mark, they burn. but as seungcheol cleans your wounds after a battle, both of you startle at how, when he accidentally brushes over your mark, a flood of warmth fills you both

jeonghan

compass on your skin that points in the direction of your soulmate. only, your compass seems rather confused. it glows whenever jeonghan is near, and spins wildly when he's not. you're quite sure he's your soulmate, but the compass doesn't make sense... that is, until you catch him with his shining halo and white wings.

joshua

meeting them in your dreams. underused type of soulmate au tbh but it's just so sweet!! at the end of a long day, you fall asleep and find joshua already waiting for you with a smile on his face, and every night, you fall harder and harder for someone who you haven't even met in person yet but who still has captured your heart

junhui

body swap for three hours when the youngest of you turns 21. the entire thing is chaos because it's impossible to truly prepare for when it will happen. and even though the body swap ends in disaster, somehow, inexplicably, he finally finds his way to you

hoshi

whatever they draw on their skin appears on yours. he likes the fact that you can almost... communicate with each other, without having ever met. he likes the little scribbles that appear on his hands, the ink marks, the reminders. it feels like being a part of your life, long before he actually meets you.

wonwoo

telepathic link. on his 21st birthday, he'd jumped out of his skin because he didn't realise your voice would be so loud. you're so hyper, always chattering to your soulmate in your head, and whilst it's definitely a change to wonwoo's normal life, he likes it. and when he finally meets you, he finally gathers the courage to say he really likes you, too.

woozi

stars appear on your skin when they touch you. it's devastatingly intimate: his touch burns gentle marks into your skin, painting unique patterns that only you can see, and it makes you yearn for him to finally realise that it's him, him with his warm hands that bleed stars beneath your clothes, who you love the most.

minghao

one-sided soulmates. you're minghao's soulmate, but you don't have a soulmate in return. slowly, carefully, minghao helps you heal from all those years of being told that you're broken, a defect, unworthy of love. he does it not just because he's your soulmate, but because he really has come to love you, and he wants you to be happy.

mingyu

red string of fate. you have this red string on your finger that fades into the distance if your soulmate is too far away. but one day, you look down at your hand and realise you can follow it, the red string winding translucently down the street until you look up... and there stands mingyu, string connected to yours, the softest smile on his face.

dokyeom

the world turns colourful when your eyes meet. it's fitting, for dokyeom, because of course the world bursts into colours the moment he meets your eyes, because of course him and his shining gaze and bright smile make your entire world come to life before you. that's just the kind of person he is.

seungkwan

a soulmark that changes colour depending on how your soulmate feels. you find your soulmark fascinating because it always goes through a whole range of colours at any given time, swirling majestically with emotions. it takes a while for you to notice that the colours might, just maybe, match with the emotions of your hyper, passionate best friend, seungkwan.

vernon

your soulmate's name appearing after you fall in love. vernon has had your name on his shoulder for almost as long as he's known you, so he knows you're his soulmate, but he still patiently waits for you to fall in love with him too, wanting to give you that choice, willing to wait for however long it takes for his love to be returned

chan

countdown until the first meeting. something about chan and having that fateful first meeting when the numbers on your wrist finally reach zero and you look up and see him smiling at you, surrounded by the golden light of the sun, looking like he really is your one, precious, fated companion for life.... just fits him so well, really.

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @kikohao @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @bananabubble

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track five: the battle of the bands

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, DOGGOS, yuji literally is just a ray of sunshine 24/7, mentions of drunk driving, so much fluff, ridiculous amount of kissing tbh, short time skip at the end, FINAL CHAPTER! || sfw. 8.8k words.

FOR THE FIRST time in a long stretch of busy days, you wake up not to the chirp of your alarm but to soft rays of Saturday morning sunlight seeping through the cracks in the blinds, painting your eyelids orange-gold. You crack an eye open and find Takuma stirring beside you. Right.

“Morning,” you whisper. For a moment, when Takuma opens his eyes, he looks surprised, and then he seems to remember why and how you got here and his expression melts into a soft smile.

“Morning, Skip.” He yawns. “Time’s it?”

You shrug. You’re pretty sure your phone is dead.

“Eh, it’s Saturday,” he mumbles. “S’fine.” You chuckle, daring to reach out and ruffle his hair. You don’t know what this is, the unspoken thing in the thin slice of air between you. You know what you want it to be, though.

For a while you both lie in comfortable silence, letting the sounds of the awakening house float up the stairs toward you. Murmuring, clattering around in the kitchen, the front door opening and closing, cars outside.

“Hey,” you say eventually, making eye contact. His eyes are a very deep shade of brown, dark but warm in a way that reminds you of old bookshelves or tree bark after the rain.

“Hey back.”

He’s relaxed, every part of him unhurried, and you take the image of it and stamp it into your mind over the memory of the night prior. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Takuma smiles. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Maybe it should be more awkward, the fact that you’re here in his bed in his clothes and you haven’t named whatever it is that stretches out in the silence. But it’s not. It’s just… easy.

“Skipper?”

“Hm?”

“I really, really like you,” Takuma whispers. The words wrap themselves around you, warm when you didn’t know you were cold.

“Yeah?” You bring a hand up to his face, trace the line of his jaw. His cheeks are a little colored in the mix of light slipping through the window and the cracked door. “I really, really like you too, Takuma.”

He cups your face in both hands, pulls your lips to his, and your whole body responds, pressing up against him in the too-small twin bed. Your hand goes to hold the back of his neck, deepening the kiss, and this is what people write love songs about, you fucking get it now, all the metaphors and cliché words you thought were exaggerations but no, they’re not, because you’re feeling all of them all at once and you don’t ever want to leave this moment in time.

“Like” doesn’t feel strong enough, not for this. You’ve only known him for a month. Is it really possible he’s already become so integral to the structure of your heart?

You’re kissing in the early morning light and it’s hungrier than you thought your next kiss would be, because even though all the rest of your days are rolling out before you, you don’t know how many there are. He twists so he’s above you on his knees, one of them between your legs, and it’s like a reversal of that night on the roof, like you can feel the night air even in the golden midmorning hours.

“Kuma,” you murmur between kisses, and he grins against your mouth, takes your next breath and makes it his.

At some point you’re interrupted by the startled growl of your stomach, and you break apart, unable to stifle the giggles rising up in your throat. “Well.”

“Well,” Takuma echoes, grinning. He stands and offers you a hand. “Breakfast?”

Downstairs, the house is alive with idle chatter and the clinking of silverware. Kirara is seated atop the counter, legs swinging as she eats a plate of eggs, and Hakari stands beside her leaning against the cabinets. Megumi scrolls absently through his phone at the table, the dogs looking up at him expectantly from either side, and Yuji is digging through a bunch of take-out boxes. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“Morning!” he practically sings. “Here, eat food.”

“Where’d this come from?” Takuma asks.

“My friend dropped off breakfast,” Yuji chirps, pushing a Tupperware container of pancakes toward you. If it weren’t for the brace wrapped around his wrist, you’d have no idea anything happened. He’s his usual golden retriever self.

You smile, forking one of the pancakes onto a plate. “That’s sweet.”

Your phone buzzes, and it’s Tsumiki sending you the link to the news brief. You frown at the headline, not out of any disrespect for the writer who stepped up to cover it, but more at the fact that it’s unfortunately true.

JU senior issued DUI after crash on 34th and Olson Blvd Friday night

“What’s up?” Takuma asks, immediately noting your expression. You slide the phone across the counter, watching its screen catch the light from the kitchen window. Kirara leans over it as well and starts reading off Junpei’s story halfway through.

“Zenin, who according to a campus police report was driving under the influence of alcohol, was on the phone with an ex-girlfriend when he swerved into the opposite lane.” Her dark brows knit together in some combination of anger and disbelief. “Jesus.”

“That’s fucked,” you murmur.

Someone’s phone rings, and Megumi glances at his screen and blinks, seems to hesitate. Then he gets up and disappears down the hall. You glance at Takuma, but he just shrugs. It’s probably Gojo.

The rest of you eat and eventually make your way to the living room, scattering yourselves across the couch and carpet and chairs.

“That single last night,” Takuma says, letting Kuro jump up beside him on the couch. “Concept. Make it the title track of an EP.”

You blink for a second, startled. “Wait, for real?”

“Yes!” Takuma says, sitting up straighter. “Think about it. Cover art is one of those name tag stickers, you all sign it, wrinkle it up and crease it and take a grainy film photo. And you put the song on it with Next Fix and a couple of your older singles you and blow up.”

“Or you print one off that says hello, our name is,” Kirara pipes up, seeming excited by the idea. “Ooh, you can have an intro track like that.”

“All caps. Just to match the energy,” you say, picturing the EP cover in your mind. “HELLO MY NAME IS. No punctuation either.”

“I like it,” Kirara nods. Takuma’s got that excited shine to his eyes, and you realize he’s very in his element in this conceptual space—he really will be a good producer. He has the mind for it.

Megumi slips back into the room looking a little haphazard, disgruntled, looking anywhere but into anyone else’s eyes, and Yuji cocks his head in question. Not Gojo, then. “Who was that?”

“No one,” Megumi lies, waving him off and turning back toward the kitchen to avoid everyone’s questioning gaze. Hm.You know better than to ask, and it seems that’s the consensus, because nobody pushes it—Megumi will open up in his own time. You hope he figures it out soon.

For your part, it’s a lazy Saturday, hanging out with Takuma, Yuji, Megumi, Kirara, and Hakari, gaming and talking and generally just existing in each other’s presence. After the chaos of last night, it seems to be exactly what all of you needed.

It’s not until late afternoon that Kirara broaches the topic of the band.

She gestures at Yuji, a flapping motion that misses the mark a little because Kirara is sprawled upside-down in the beanbag in the corner. “Itadori, can you, like… drum with that?”

He shrugs, looking down at his injured wrist. “Yeah, probably!” You frown. So much of drumming is in the wrist, and you kind of figured Kirara’s question was rhetorical. You realize abruptly that Shibuya Incident is still going up against Black Flash in the finals on Friday, and if they don’t have Yuji, they’re fucked.

“Psh, don’t look like that, it’s fine,” Yuji insists, grabbing two Wii remotes and wielding them like drumsticks. He goes to bang them around, mimicking a rock beat, and you watch as his face twists into a grimace and he drops one of them. “Okay, so, update: never mind!” He grins sheepishly.

Kirara is the first one to look at you, and by the time you’ve processed what exactly it is she’s trying to say, everyone else has their eyes locked on you—including Yuji.

Oh, shit.

“Whaddaya say, girl drummer?” Kirara asks, pointing a finger gun at you.

“Oh, guys, I don’t… I don’t know, it’s your band. Yuji—”

But Yuji is the one who seems the most excited about it. He’s abandoned both Wii remotes on the floor and is now looking up at you with bright eyes and his eternal grin. “No, Skipper, please? It would be so fun! I can still do aux and stuff. But we could play together! It would be so awesome!”

“Is that even allowed?” you ask, glancing at Takuma, who’s trying and failing to hide a boyishly excited smile. “I mean, I already got eliminated.”

“Hang on,” Hakari says, pulling out his phone. It takes you a minute to realize who he’s asking. “Yeah, no, Panda says it’s whatever. Better that than not have a battle at all.”

Takuma nudges you with a knee, looking at you with steady eyes. It’s your choice, he seems to say.

“I think,” you say slowly, “I should talk to my band first. But… I’m not opposed.”

Yuji whoops so loudly you flinch a little and Takuma grins, putting his arm around you and squeezing your shoulder.

“I probably should head out,” you say, a little reluctantly. “Kinda left the roommates high and dry last night.”

Kirara salutes you, her face red from the blood rush of still being upside down, and Yuji chirps out a happy see ya!

“I’ll walk you out,” Takuma says, standing when you do. You say bye to the band and the dogs and he follows you to the front door, going as far as to step just outside with you. The door stays open just a crack as you linger, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. He pulls you in and kisses you right there on the front step, and you smile against his lips.

“Are we, like…?” Takuma murmurs when he pulls away, cheeks flushed from the question or the cold, you can’t tell.

“Are we what?” you tease, shoving lightly at his chest.

“You know.”

“Well, if you don’t say it I’m gonna beat you to asking—”

This seems to zap whatever hesitation Takuma had right out of him, and he cuts in, “Willyoubemygirlfriend?”

“Sorry, what was that?” You know you’ve got a shit-eating grin on your face, but you can’t stop it. “Couldn’t really hear you—”

“Oh my god. Will,” he says slowly, drawing out the word, “You. Be. My. Girlfriend?”

You can see your laugh fanning out before you in a puff of warm air, and you tip your head forward into his chest, grinning. “Yes, Takuma, I would love to be your girlfriend.” You pull back and look up at him, lacing your fingers together. “I was kind of trying to get you alone all week so we could figure out what the fuck was going on. But it worked out, huh?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “It worked out.” He reaches up and ruffles your hair, laughing when you go to swat his hand away. “I was trying to get you alone, too,” he admits. “I like spending time with you, Skip. I’m pretty sure you’re the coolest person I’ve met, like, ever.”

“Ever,” you echo. “Those are some pretty lofty expectations to live up to.”

He shrugs. “You meet them all.”

Despite yourself, heat creeps up to your cheeks again.

“That was less scary than I thought it was gonna be,” Takuma confesses. Your phone rings in your pocket, and you glance at it and see Maki’s name sliding across the screen.

“Think that’s my cue.” You plant one last kiss on Takuma’s lips and turn around, throwing a “bye, boyfriend” over your shoulder. You glance back and catch him mid fist-pump, and he sheepishly shoves his hands into his pockets when he realizes you saw.

You’re still wearing his clothes, you realize as you answer your phone. Guess it doesn’t really matter, since they’re your boyfriend’s.

“Hey,” Maki says in your ear. “You comin’ home anytime soon? No rush, but we’re making lunch so we figured we’d ask.” In the background, you can hear Toge singing what you think is a dramatic rendition of Kristoff’s song from Frozen II, but you aren’t entirely certain because none of the words are right.

“Yeah, I’m literally walking through the door in thirty seconds,” you say, and Nobara’s face appears in the kitchen window. She waves excitedly and you raise a hand in return.

“Oh, sick.” The line goes dead as you open the front door. “Hey!” Maki shouts when she hears it click, and you slam it closed against the rush of cool air trying to sneak inside with you.

“Hi!” you call back.

Yuta pokes his head around the corner and grins at you. “Welcome home, our favorite breaking news reporter.”

“I didn’t actually report on anything,” you admit, kicking your shoes off and padding into the kitchen. Toge is somehow balancing cross-legged on one of the high stools, and Maki is making tacos. “Conflict of interest once I realized who it was.”

“Yeah, I saw the article,” Nobara chimes in, glancing up from her phone. “Yikes. Frickin’ Naoya Zenin. What an asshat.”

You snort. What an understatement.

“Hope he rots in jail,” Maki says in a sing-song voice, not even looking up.

“I love family,” Toge says.

You fill your friends in on the crash and the aftermath and Yuji’s wrist, leaving out some of the details about Takuma, because that feels a little invasive. And then Yuta asks the big question: “What about the band?”

“About that,” you say, taking a deep breath. You’re not exactly sure why this makes you so nervous. Maybe it’s just that these are your people, your band, and you all worked so hard and then went down together. It doesn’t seem fair that you get to go back on stage and try again and the rest of them don’t. “So. They asked me to fill in—“

“Yes!” Nobara shouts, pumping a fist in the air. “Oh, that’s so awesome!”

“Well, I didn’t say yes yet—”

“What? Why?” Toge asks incredulously. You laugh, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. Of course they’re okay with it. These are your best friends. They’ll always have your back.

“I wanted to check with you guys,” you say, feeling silly about it now. “Just—I don’t know, to make sure. Since it’s not our band, and I didn’t want you guys to feel like I was, I don’t know, like…”

“Musically cheating?” Maki chuckles. “Skipper, this is great. You should say yes.”

Yuta solemnly puts a hand over his heart. “Avenge us.”

“Thanks, guys.” You grin as you hop up on the counter next to Nobara, pressing your shoulder to hers. “I love y’all.”

“Sap,” Maki says, which means love you too.

—

Using a drum set that isn’t yours is always a weird experience. You feel like everything is just ever so slightly off, and Yuji’s kit is an absolute patchwork of different brands of heads and shells and cymbals. You have to lower the stool because he’s taller than you. But it’s just for rehearsal, at least—you can use your own kit at The Fix.

It’s your first time in the shabby basement of Takuma’s house, and it looks distinctly different than your own. They’ve pinned old rugs to the walls as a type of sound deadener, not dissimilar to your own setup, but their lighting is a collection of Facebook marketplace floor lamps and a little disco ball that’s apparently Yuji’s. Your basement has string lights and a bunch of stools and beanbags, and this one has extra blankets all over the floor where Yuji and Kirara have made themselves at home.

Learning Shibuya Incident’s songs isn’t difficult—you’ve heard enough of their music to anticipate what’s coming, and Yuji’s there to give you pointers. Their three-song set for the final performance isn’t actually done, because they don’t feel like they have a good enough finisher, and after you’ve run the first two songs several times you mess around with potential chorus lines.

“What about that?” Kirara says after plucking out a new melody. “It’s hype enough, I think. Or it will be, once we add the rest of you.”

“I like that.” You tap out the rhythm on the snare rim, humming. “You have lyrics?” You look at Takuma, who’s staring at the ceiling like it might have all the answers if he just squints hard enough.

“Somethin’ about, like… losing your head a little bit because you caught feels,” he says. “Like, you’re down so bad you can’t function, to be dramatic about it. That triplet at the beginning of the chorus, Kirara—”

She plucks it out again, down-up-down. “On my own,” Takuma echoes, down-up-down. “Every little move I can’t pin down…”

The words tumble past your lips before you can stop them, because they’ve been circling your head for a week now. “Friends with all the dead in my ghost town.”

He spins around to look at you, a grin spreading across his face. “Yes! It’s like I’m going…”

“Going,” Kirara echoes, and they go back and forth—going, going, “out of my mind!”

“Whoo!” Yuji cheers, pumping a fist in the air. “Holy shit. That was crazy.” Takuma grabs the nearest beat-to-hell spiral notebook and starts scribbling.

Megumi starts laying out a bassline, subtly driving the beat forward a little, and you clamp the hat down on two and four to keep time. Kirara comes in with something that must be the verse, and Takuma reads off, “You left in the morning after eight, I got into work two hours late, I can’t see the sun without your face.” Bass, bass, bass. Megumi nods along and Yuji is practically dancing from his spot on the floor.

“One day and I run fresh out of light…”

Hm. You add, “Twelve hours without your hand in mine.”

“I’m dizzy and overworked and tired,” Kirara sings lowly. All three of you sing the chorus again, and you feel just like you’re at home in your own basement, writing a song in real time with Nobara and Maki and the boys.

“Oh, that slaps,” Takuma practically shouts. “Jesus. We’re gonna win.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Megumi warns, a wry quirk to his lips.

Kirara glances at her phone. “Food’s here. Break time, freaks.” She bounds up the stairs and Megumi follows to help her grab the bags—you DoorDashed Taco Bell, since Yuji never got his beloved crunch wrap on Friday.

You leave your sticks on the snare and move around the drum set, flopping down on the ground beside Takuma. “You’re good at that,” you tell him honestly, pulling the notebook away to read what he’s writing down. I met you across the darkened stage, you shook up my life, you got me made, you’re drivin’ me crazy night and day.

You can’t help thinking of the night you met him, locking eyes while he sang from the edge of the low stage at The Fix, lit up by purple-red stage lights and putting you in a trance. You scribble a few more lines after his and hand the pen back.

“You’re a poet,” he tells you, and you laugh.

“I’m a journalist.”

“Woman of many talents,” he says, echoing Maki’s words from that first night you met.

“Itadori!” Kirara shouts down the stairs.

“Coming!” Yuji leaps up and disappears up the rickety basement staircase, leaving you and Takuma alone.

“Hey,” he says, tapping the pen on the page. You glance up at him, nodding for him to keep going. “Can I take you out? Like, on an actual date?”

Something light and quick kicks around in your chest, a hummingbird loose in your ribcage. “I would not be opposed,” you say, as if the idea doesn’t make you want to kick your feet like a little kid. “When are you thinking?”

“Mm, you’re in night class prison tomorrow,” he says, tapping the pen against his lip now. “Tuesday?”

It shouldn’t make you so irrationally happy that he remembers your schedule, but logic seems to go out the window where Takuma Ino is concerned. “Tuesday’s good. Where do you wanna go?”

He shakes his head adamantly, tapping you on the nose with his pen. “Leave it to me.”

—

The only things Takuma’s told you about your date tonight are dress warm and bring your board. He meets you outside your place at four, his bag definitely bulkier than usual, his own skateboard under one foot.

You’re wearing a denim jacket over a hoodie and your favorite cargo pants with your boots, and you tucked a beanie and gloves into your bag just in case, but it’s surprisingly balmy out for late October. The wind is the worst of it.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Takuma says when you coast down the driveway and come to a stop beside him. The greeting makes you blush as much as his smile does, and he chuckles as he pushes off. “This way.”

“Where are we going?”

“Crazy,” he says. You roll your eyes. Sounds like the kind of dad joke Yuta would make.

“Well, then.” The two of you make your way down the street and around the bend, and you realize he’s taking you to the skate park. But at the entrance he keeps going, around the pit and a few of the ramps and to the largest one, back in the corner—not the one Sukuna deals under, but the one opposite. And you stop in your tracks, your longboard making a protesting schkk under your feet, when you see it.

Battery-powered string lights loop around the posts and down the underside of the ramp, and blankets and pillows are spread out across the ground. The area is sheltered from the worst of the wind, and you know your jaw is hanging open a little as you watch Takuma unload his bag—JBL speaker, two thermoses, and a bunch of food.

“Takuma,” you say, not knowing what other words suffice. “I—oh my god.” You did not peg him as being this romantic.

Then you think about his song lyrics and think maybe you should have.

He grins at you from where he’s sat down on the blankets, holding out one of the thermoses. You leave your board by one of the poles and sit down beside him, taking it and letting the warmth seep into your hands. “What is it?”

“Hot chocolate.”

“Mm.” You scoot closer to him, staring up at the layers and layers of graffiti and marker art covering the underside of the ramp. “This is maybe the sweetest thing ever.”

“I’m glad,” he says. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“I wouldn’t know.” You take a sip of the hot chocolate—still warm. “It’s romantic. Big fan.”

“Really?” He points to where somebody drew a dick on the far side of the ramp.

“Okay, well, you didn’t have to point it out,” you smirk. “You ever done graffiti?” Looking at his mischievous smile and the beanie tugged over his head, the skateboard abandoned a few feet away, he does look like the type.

“Tagging?” He shrugs. “No. I would, though. Maybe we should.”

You hum, staring up at the arcing bubble letters and jagged black lines all over the ramp. You think you’d be horrible at graffiti, but you’ve always appreciated it, the way it sends a message and doesn’t ask for anything in return.

“This is like… alternative aesthetic stargazing,” you muse, lifting a finger and tracing the sharp lines of one of the illegible words in the air. You could stare at all this art for hours and never find all the intricacies of it.

Takuma digs around in his bag and produces a Sharpie with an “aha!”

“You’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie?”

He throws it at you and you catch it in one hand, instinctively twirling it like a drumstick. “We’re gonna graffiti with a Sharpie,” he corrects.

And so you do.

The nearest part of the wall is covered in bright pink paint outlined in black, and it takes you a moment of squinting and tilting your head to realize it says LEAVEYOURMARK. Seems as clear of an instruction as any. So you do—scooting forward, you start to draw flowers into the thick bands of pink lettering, and soon they’re shifting to music notes, percussion notation, aimless squiggles. Takuma queues up a laid-back playlist with a few artists you recognize and many more you don’t, and you pass the pen back and forth, adding tiny notes to messages around the ramp, doodling in the empty space.

You’ve been on dates before, but this feels wholly different. With Takuma, you’re not stressing over conversation starters, worrying about commitment, wondering if you picked the right outfit, trying to gauge your shared interests with carefully planned questions. It’s just easy, existing with him like this.

After a while, you’re on your back in the mess of pillows and blankets, staring directly up at the massive painting of a skateboard with a face. Takuma is drawing something on the wall behind you.

Squinting, the green streaks under the skateboard look like that loss meme Toge sends you at least twice a week. You take a photo with the intention of showing it to him later, though maybe you shouldn’t—he gets way too proud of himself for versing you in what he calls Reddit culture.

You crane your neck to see what Takuma’s drawing and find the thick, dark strokes of a city skyline, towers and domes and boxy apartment buildings.

“Artsy,” you tell him, smiling when he appears in your line of vision upside-down. “You sure about this computer science thing? You’re too creative.”

“That’s what my mom said,” he chuckles, capping the Sharpie and sitting down beside you. As you sit up, he leans back on his hands and glances over at you. “I told her about you. She’d love you. I mean, I’m pretty sure she already does.” He hesitates. “Is that weird? Too soon?”

“No,” you grin. “I—that’s really sweet, actually. I would love to meet your mom.” Your gaze softens at the relieved smile that crosses his face. “Gotta thank her for raising a guy like you, anyway.”

You realize you want Takuma to meet your family too—you want to show him all the corners of your too-small town, show him the place you grew up. It made you who you are—it led you here, to him, after all.

“So,” you say, tilting your head. “When you say you wanna be a producer. Where do you mean? Like, LA?”

He shrugs. “Probably. But I’m sure it’s more competitive there than anywhere else. I feel like the major hubs are there and New York, but I wouldn’t mind somewhere quieter, either.” He loops an arm around you, and your head finds its way to his shoulder. “What about you, world-class journalist?”

You grin, thinking of all the places you haven’t been, all the places you want to go. “Anywhere and everywhere. I just wanna see it all. I wanna travel.”

“You should!” He sounds genuinely excited about the concept, and you lift your head, taking in the expression on his face—he looks the way he did when he was talking about making an EP, like the world is full of possibilities and he wants to see them all play out. “You’d be so good at it. Being a travel writer or international correspondent or whatever.” He clears his throat. “I read some of your stuff, y’know.”

“What?” Suddenly you’re racking your brain for every piece you’ve published in the JU Journal, overly critical of your own work in hindsight. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s good. Really good, Skip, seriously.” He reaches out and tugs a wayward strand of hair behind your ear, and you find yourself leaning into the contact.

You aren’t sure what to say, so you settle on a soft, “Thank you.” Somehow, the idea of Takuma going out of his way to read your work feels personal on the same level that writing a song together does. Taking in your words, your ideas, internalizing them. What is intimacy if not that intellectual exchange?

“I think you’re going to be a really good producer.” It’s his turn to blush. “I mean it. Not everyone has the perspective for it, or the ear. But you do.”

“Ah, well, I—”

“Am not good at taking compliments?” you cut him off, raising a brow. “Mm, we’ll fix that.” He laughs, and you’re leaning in to kiss him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Maybe it is the most natural thing in the world.

It’s late October, and you are not the least bit cold.

—

Your hands need to stop sweating before you lose a drumstick or something.

Shibuya Incident has about twenty minutes before you’re all due on stage for the finals, and The Fix is alive with students and lights and drinks and music and chatter. You’re out on the floor tonight, off to the side for easy access to the stage once Black Flash clears out.

“We’re kicking off with the reigning champions of the Battle of the Bands,” Panda booms, throwing an arm out as the band takes the stage. “You know ‘em, you love ‘em, they’re every genre and no genre, covers and originals, brass and wind. Give it up for Black Flash!”

You whoop just as loud as anyone else here, grinning at Nobara’s animated cheering from closer to the center of the floor. Miwa walks right up to the mic and takes it off the stand, the neck of her white electric in her other hand. “Hey, folks!” She brushes her bright blue hair out of her face and shouts, “Y’all ready to hear some good music?”

She has the sort of infectious enthusiasm that could work on pretty much anyone, and before you know it you and Kirara are spinning each other around to the beat of a synth-heavy pop song that sounds like it came straight out of the 80s. The instrumentals are simple but tight, and Miwa jumps around, engaging the crowd, belting like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“They’re good,” you catch Megumi saying lowly, probably to Yuji, but Takuma’s the one who answers.

“If I tell you the power of friendship will lead us to victory—”

“No.”

“Well, okay, you’re no fun.”

Kirara turns around and plants a hand on her hip, looking at Megumi. “Fushiguro, we’re fine. We’re going out with a badass new single and not one but two percussionists. We’ve never sounded this good.”

“Just being the token pessimist,” he sighs, cracking a reluctant half-smile. “I know we’re good.”

Yuji elbows him playfully. “Mr. Realist.”

Black Flash segues into a second track, an ABBA cover that has you dancing without thinking, and Takuma catches your eye and grins, moving along with you. And all too soon it’s over, a third song come and gone, and Panda’s back up on stage and the five of you are hopping up over the side to make your way to your places. Hakari and another tech have already swapped out the kits, and you settle yourself in the comfort of your own throne, your own pedals, flipping on the snare and pounding the kick a few times.

Yuji’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning at you. “You got this,” he mouths, shaking his tambourine at you.

You truly have no idea where he got a tambourine.

“What happened in Shibuya? Who the hell knows?” Panda shouts, riling up the crowd. “Give it up for Shibuya Incident!”

That’s your cue. You look at Kirara, who nods with a conspiratorial smile, and then Megumi, who plucks out a few notes in answer. Yuji’s already giving you a grin and a thumbs-up. And Takuma… he’s already stepped into his on-stage confidence, all relaxed, easygoing performer, and the look he gives you has energy coursing through your fingertips like an electric shock.

You hold your sticks above your head, clicking them loud on the lower end of the shaft, and shout, “One, two, three, four!”

You are alive.

The first track is another pulled from their EP, and you’ve listened to it probably an embarrassing number of times—you know Yuji’s part down to the sixteenth note, the roll, the rest, but you don’t hesitate to put your own spin on it, and he’s alight with the same energy beside you, messing around with a tambourine and a few other aux instruments near a mic of his own, since he’s also doing backup vocals tonight.

Your hands are moving fast, your feet pumping the pedals of their own accord, an instinct, and it’s over before you know it, a sheen of sweat already forming under the stage lights. You grin, catching your breath, wiping your hands on your jeans as Takuma introduces the band.

From your place near the back of the stage, you get more of the low feedback than anything else, but you definitely hear when he says Shibuya Incident and the crowd responds raucously in kind.

“That’s Kirara Hoshi on guitar and vocals,” he says, pointing to her as she does her little riff.

“Yeah, Kira!” You have no idea where Hakari’s voice is coming from, but it’s unmistakable.

“We got Fushiguro back there on the bass,” Takuma continues, and Megumi gives the crowd an unbothered nod, showing off his own instrument for a moment. “Itadori’s back here on aux and vocals.” He pauses to let the crowd shout for Yuji and then adds, “And filling in for him on kit, we’ve got the legendary drummer from Cursed Technique. Everyone give it up for Skipper!”

You do a quick roll, laughing as your own band goes crazy—you can’t see them in the glare of the lights, but you (and everyone else) can definitely hear them.

“I’m Ino, we’re Shibuya Incident, and this next one’s gonna slow things down a little.”

This one starts with Megumi, a laid-back track with a similar vibe to the first song you ever heard Shibuya Incident perform, but a little smoother. It’s over before you know it, and then you and Kirara are launching into the new single. Even Yuji looks like he’s having the time of life on backup vocals.

“On my own,” he and Kirara harmonize, Takuma taking the lead, and you nail the next two lines with punchy cymbal-tom hits, “all the shadows look like a death threat, everybody’s waitin’ to get hit, it’s like I’m going (going) going (going) out of my mind!”

All your worries melt away as the beat drives your movements. You’re not thinking about dropping a drumstick, missing a measure, losing the competition. You’re doing what you love with people you love, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.

“Think I’m seein’ double in one eye, startin’ to think this air is spiked, no one told me that’s what love is like.” Takuma lets the guitar hang and grips the mic in one hand and the stand in the other, leaning with it as he engages the crowd, and you definitely hear Nobara screaming. “You got me going (going) going (going) out of my mind, yeah, yeah.”

It’s over so fast you can barely breathe, and you’re laughing before you know what’s happening, Yuji throwing his arm around you and shouting, “You killed it!”

Takuma turns around and locks eyes with you, and you see that same adrenaline high in his gaze that you know is in yours, and when the band stumbles off stage in Panda’s wake, he grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. “That was crazy!” he practically shouts, which is probably good, because your ears are ringing so much you probably wouldn’t have heard him otherwise.

“Guys,” Megumi says, deadpan as always, but you can see the effects of the performance even on him, his usually stoic expression unable to mask his own excitement. “I think… we might have a shot.”

“Holy shit,” Kirara says. “Skip, write the story. Resident pessimist breaks vow of negativity—”

“Oh, shut up.” Megumi elbows her as she dissolves into laughter. In the wings, you can hear the indistinct sounds of Panda’s instructions as he starts voting, and music kicks up over the speakers. Ten minutes. Ten minutes.

It’s the longest and shortest wait of your life, and then you’re back on stage with Black Flash and Panda, and it’s fucking time.

You wonder if everyone else can hear your blood roaring, too.

“Once again, an insanely tight vote,” Panda says, a hush falling over the crowd as they wait for the verdict. “Phenomenal performances from both of our final bands, but someone’s gotta win. Give it up for the champions of this year’s Battle of the Bands…”

You imagine Maki hissing under her breath for Panda to hurry it up, Nobara’s hands clasped together as she anxiously bounces on the balls of her feet, Yuta biting his lip and trying to get Toge to shut up.

Takuma’s hand is on your shoulder, Yuji on your other side, Megumi and Kirara behind you. You glance at Miwa, and she gives you a knowing look that you can’t interpret.

You almost don’t hear it.

“SHIBUYA INCIDENT!”

You don’t know which screams belong to who—maybe one of them’s yours—but you’re swept into a massive pile of musicians drunk off victory, and you’re laughing, and Miwa’s jumping up and down and saying how that was insane, guys, you were amazing, and even Mai nods at you in congratulations, and Yuji is abruptly on Todo’s shoulders, and as the stage lights turn down a bit you finally catch sight of your own band, losing their minds on the floor.

“That’s our girl!” Maki hollers, and Yuta whoops as Toge pumps a fist in the air. You realize you can’t see Nobara, and two seconds later your questions are answered when she somehow materializes on the stage, launching herself at you with a massive grin on her face.

“You did it!” she shouts. “Holy shit, Skipper!”

Everything around you is chaos and laughter and noise, but something in the center of your being is incredibly still, and you think maybe it’s contentment. In this moment, you would ask for nothing else. It is perfect.

Nobara detaches herself from you after more profuse congratulations, turning to Miwa, and the bands make their way gradually off stage. Takuma’s hand is in yours—you don’t know when that happened—and he pulls you past the band, past the wings, all the way into the drum storage room backstage.

“That was fucking amazing,” he says. “You’re fucking amazing.” His beanie is off, tucked into his pocket, his hair as wild as his eyes as wild as your heart.

You close the door.

It’s a pulse. That’s the only way you can describe it, the rush of living energy that comes with kissing Takuma Ino behind the stage of a shitty campus bar, the heat shooting through your veins in time with the throb of the bass from distant speakers. Breath on your teeth and hands in your hair, the warmth in your gut from skin-on-skin proximity, ears ringing with the sound of your name on his lips and love-blind eyes, you’re alive and addicted to a feeling you know you’ll chase forever.

—

TWO MONTHS LATER. DECEMBER 19.

The house is alive with laughter and chatter and Michael Bublé’s Christmas album spinning from the record player. The semester is over, and tomorrow you’ll scatter for winter break, home for the holidays. Nobara insisted on throwing a party before all the inevitable road trips and flights, and the main floor is strung with multicolored lights and tinsel—Yuta’s plant, Rika, even has a tiny Santa hat on.

In addition to the actual residents of the house, Takuma and the band are here, as well as Hakari, Panda, Tsumiki, Miwa, and a handful of other friends. Megumi’s even brought the dogs, who have both taken a liking to the loveseat by the window and claimed it as their own. You’ve informed Megumi that they’re going to stay here with you forever (he said no, but you don’t take orders from him).

“Okay, I’m dropping you off at ten, right?” Yuta quadruple-checks. You’re huddled in the kitchen with him and Maki—Toge was here a minute ago, but he heard someone in the living room mention Just Dance and ran off to assert his dominance or whatever.

“Oh my god, yes,” Maki answers for you. “Yuta. You wrote it down. It’s in your calendar. You live in the same house as Skip, you’re not gonna forget.” She bumps her shoulder with his and he sighs in admission.

“I know.” He smiles at you. “Just gotta make sure she gets home for the holidays. Can’t have you turning into a sad Christmas cliché on us, Skip.”

You salute him with half a gingerbread cookie. “Appreciate it.” He’s taking you to the airport tomorrow for your flight home and refuses to take your gas money, so you’re already planning on beating him to paying for the first grocery run when you get back.

“Things with Mai are good?” you ask, glancing at Maki. She shrugs noncommittally but doesn’t correct you, which is a good sign. She and her sister met up the week after the Battle of the Bands for coffee, which you genuinely thought was a joke when she told you about it. They’re both going home for Christmas and have apparently decided to try and like each other a little more openly. And she actually showed up tonight, which you have to admit you weren’t entirely expecting.

“Yuta!” Toge hollers from the other room. “You have to come do Rasputin with me!”

Yuta groans, looking pleadingly at Maki like she can get him out of this, but she just grins. “You heard him.”

“You hate me.”

“Yeah,” Maki says fondly. Yuta, defeated, goes to join Toge in the dance of death. Maki whispers to you that she’s going to record it for blackmail and slips out after him.

Tsumiki appears beside you, drink in hand, and leans against the wall. She tilts her phone screen toward you and you see it’s the Journal website analytics.

The top story right now is yours. You grin. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realize.”

“I expected it,” she admits, tucking her phone back in her pocket and gazing out across the room. “Look, I’ve been meaning to tell you. We won’t start the application process until spring sem, but, if you want it,” she glances at you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, “I really think you should apply for editor-in-chief, Skip.”

Your mouth opens and closes without anything of use coming out, and Tsumiki laughs. “You don’t have to, but—”

“No!” you blurt, grinning. “I—I want to. I would love to. I was planning on it. I just didn’t know you… wanted me to.” Kusakabe’s just the advisor—when it comes to actually hiring the next editor, Tsumiki has the final say. Her endorsement is as good as a job offer. “I… thank you, Tsumiki.” You look down, suddenly overwhelmed by the words. “Big shoes to fill.”

“Aw, none of that,” she says, stealing a cookie from the tray on the counter next to you. “I literally can’t think of anyone better.” With a wink, she disappears through the doorway, where Kirara and Nobara are talking animatedly. Nobara gestures to you when she catches your eye.

“Dude, our listens are shooting up!” she says, shoving her phone into your hands. Your EP dropped mid-November, six tracks recorded in the studio with Takuma and Hakari, and you’ve performed better than you ever expected. The analytics show a sharp uptick that’s probably in large part due to Panda playing your stuff on the radio station.

You whistle, leaning on Nobara’s shoulder. “Awesome.”

Kirara leans against the wall, considering. “You guys thought about what you’re gonna do next year?”

Truthfully, you’ve really tried not to. The idea of Maki and Yuta graduating is so bittersweet. But graduation means Shibuya Incident will have a hole in their band, too. Kirara will be gone.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Nobara muses. “We could join forces. If we lose Maki and Yuta and Kirara, the only thing we’re doubled up on is drums and lead.”

It’s not a bad idea. And if Yuji is track captain next year and you get that editor job, neither of you will have as much time for the band—switching off could actually be very helpful. You hum, considering. You’ll have to talk to the others.

“Oi,” Kirara says, reaching out to poke you with a socked foot. “Your boyfriend’s in lost puppy mode over there.” You glance into the living room to see Takuma scanning the room next to Megumi and the dogs, probably looking for you.

“Dumbass,” you say fondly, and nod goodbye to Nobara and Kirara before making your way over to him. The boys are halfway through Rasputin and Yuta is, much to Toge’s chagrin, kicking ass. Toge looks like he’s just run a half marathon.

Takuma lights up when he sees you, a mischievous smile appearing on his face as he intercepts you by the hall entrance.

“Oh, wow, what is that?” he asks cheekily, and tilts your chin up to see a piece of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. That was definitely Nobara’s doing. “Crazy that we just happened to—”

You cut him off, dragging him in by the shirt and kissing him, and makes a surprised sound that has you smiling against his lips.

“Crazy,” you repeat after you pull back, relishing the flush on his cheeks. Even after dating him for two months (as of today), every reaction you get out of Takuma makes your heart rate bump up a few beats. “Oh!” he says, suddenly remembering something. “Wait, c’mere, I have something for you.”

“Takuma!” You swat at him. “I told you not to—”

“Boo hoo,” he says, sticking his tongue out and dragging you toward your room, where he dumped his stuff earlier. You quietly close the door behind you as Takuma digs around his bag, standing up with his hands behind his back. “It’s Christmas and it’s been two months. You have no defense. Close your eyes.”

You do, giggling a little as he grabs your hand and presses something into it—something soft. “Okay,” he says, and you open your eyes to see a little stuffed penguin perched in the palm of your hand. It’s fucking adorable.

“Oh my god!” you cry. “Oh, he’s so cute! Takuma.” You cradle the penguin to your chest with both hands, grinning.

“It’s you!” he says, laughing. “Not official Madagascar merch, but I thought it was pretty cute. Your own lil’ Skipper.”

“I love it,” you say, making the penguin do a little dance in the air. You grab its tiny wing and poke Takuma on the nose with it. “Thank you.”

“Merry early Christmas.” His nose scrunches up a little in thought. “Early Merry Christmas? What’s the right way to say that?”

“Happy early nondenominational holiday of your choice,” you say teasingly, because the public university won’t actually say Christmas despite the decorations all around campus.

It’s a running joke among the entirety of the student body that the massive tree in the arts lobby is not a Christmas tree but a secular modern art installation. There are variations of insane alternate tree names on the school meme accounts. The knockoff JU Barstool page even got in on it, and the student groups hosting the Hanukkah and Kwanzaa celebrations.

Takuma’s answering laugh is bright and it follows you as you cross the room to your desk, pulling a box out of the second drawer. “Your turn.”

“What?” He has the audacity to look confused. “Skip—”

You hold up the penguin. “Objection denied!” The box is light and square, and you watch excitedly as he opens it.

“Oh my god,” he says when he realizes what’s inside. “No way. These are the exact ones—how did you even—?”

You had to do some investigating to figure out the precise guitar strings he uses, but what's your journalism degree for if not this?

“Who knows?” You shrug playfully. “Maybe it’s the psychic powers, maybe it’s the housemate I begged to sneak into your room and find out.”

Kirara was more than willing. “Good thing you came to me and not Itadori,” she laughed. “That kid can’t be subtle to save his life.” Takuma’s strings have been on the brink for a while, and you’re honestly shocked none of them have given out yet.

“They’re perfect,” Takuma laughs, setting the box back on your desk. “I love them. I love you.”

He says it so easily it takes you a moment to realize what just happened. He freezes, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know what words he’s looking for.

“I—uh,” he says eloquently. “It’s—I mean. I didn’t mean to—I mean, I didn’t mean to say it like that but I did mean it, you don’t have to say it back, if it’s too soon or you—”

Instead of cutting him off verbally, you grab him by the shoulders and press your lips to his. His eyes are wide when you pull back, despite the way he relaxed into the kiss on instinct.

“Hey,” you laugh, one hand trailing up to the back of his neck. “I love you, too.”

The excited smile that spreads across his face is slow and hesitant, like he can’t believe you reciprocate. You pull him back in and feel his grin against your lips, his hands coming to rest at your waist, warm.

“Thank god,” he murmurs between breaths. “Because I keep almost accidentally saying it, and it was gonna happen sooner or later.”

“Least it didn’t happen over the phone,” you grin, your hand skating down his arm and coming to rest in his.

Sheepishly, he admits, “Almost did. Yesterday.” Your laugh is bright and so is his answering one, and you perch your little stuffed penguin atop the guitar strings and tug Takuma toward the door.

“Okay, lover boy. Back to the outside world.”

“Lover boy, huh?” he teases. “Kay, pretty girl.”

“Couple of cheesy ass romantics we are.”

“Mm.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the action so casual and unthinking you want to melt. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The second you step back into the living room, Yuta grabs you by the elbow and presses a Wii remote into your hand.

“Oh, no. Yuta—”

The song’s been chosen for you, and Toge has passed the remote to Maki, who looks like she’d rather die than give a rousing performance of TiK ToK by Ke$ha.

“Well, at least it’s you,” she says. Toge tries to discreetly pull his phone out, but Maki gives him a death glare that could send a grown man to his grave. He nearly drops it in his hurry to shove it back into his pocket.

You snort, patting Maki sympathetically on the shoulder. “Let’s kick ass.”

Three hours later, everyone has somewhat settled down, sprawled across furniture and countertops and the carpeted floor. Yuta’s grabbed an acoustic from the basement and it’s being passed around, goofy Christmas songs overlapping with the still-spinning record player.

You enrolled here with the intention of building a new life, finding a new purpose—new faces, new music, a new place to call home. And you feel like you’ve found it. This is the point of college. You’re surrounded by the best people you’ve ever known, and your heart is practically overflowing with how much you fucking love them all.

After all, your heart is not a finite thing. You’ve just got an endless supply of affection, and you’re not scared of it.

Love is the right word, you think, letting your head fall onto Takuma’s shoulders, legs tucked up beneath you on the couch.

“I love you,” you whisper, just to say it. When he whispers your name, your real name, in the shell of your ear, something in your chest sparks a little. He makes it sound like a song.

“I love you, too.”

directory | prev.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro @bisforbuse @risararelywrites @idkidk32 @gojodickbig @stargazing-with-choso @anonymity-222 @honeyyhuggs

a/n: that’s a wrap on out of my mind! ahh! i loved this one a lot, and it has so much spinoff potential i’m going a little crazy with it—keep an eye out for the megumi spinoff dropping soon. if you want to be alerted when it drops, lmk and i’ll put you on the jjk taglist. also, greta wrote a sukuna spinoff here—go read!

@bitchkay i need you to know your reblog tags give me life and you were fucking RIGHT ON THE MONEY with these developments

i’m not sure if i’ll start writing other fandoms or not—if y’all would want to see attack on titan or blue lock do let me know!

[kairoot]

the hide my bfs here prank one with jay is so real 😭😭 i cant wait to see the break up one 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 hopefully u don’t plan on making it too angsty or anything :00

enhypen, break-up prank ꒰♡︎꒱ . ⁺

genre: fluff, a little emotional but not too angsty!

warnings: mentions of ending a relationship, nothing too much, jay’s is a text message oneshot

requested: yes!

pairing: enha x gn!reader

author’s note: of course, i didn’t plan for this to be too angsty, mainly all jokes! 😽💕

🔖 — heeseung.

instantly turns into a confused Bambi

doesn’t take you seriously at first

but then he’s kinda worried

a rollercoaster of emotions tbh

esp after you tell him it’s a prank

heeseung had noticed that you were acting weird all day. whenever he went to kiss you you didn’t kiss back, or when he talked to you your responses were short. he wasn’t sure what it was.

as he entered the room, he saw you sitting at the edge, scrolling through movies on the tv.

he sat on his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“love?” he called, your gaze not on him but you could feel his on you. you gave a half-hearted hum, eyes still on the tv.

“is there something wrong?”

“hee,” you started, putting the remote down. “i think we should break up.”

his heart sunk for a moment. that was so random, you weren’t serious right?

“babe,” he laughed a bit, taking your hand in his. “seriously, what’s wrong?”

you finally look down at him, a sour look on your face. his expression changed, doe eyes now sparkling up at you.

“did I.. did I do something?”

the prank didn’t last very long since you weren’t able to resist the look in his eyes.

“oh, baby,” you wrapped your arms around him, cooing. ok, now he was really confused..

“i was joking honey, i can’t leave you.”

that made his insides all fuzzy. but he was still indeed, confused.

🔖 — jay.

confused pt2

esp when you call him by his first name

is lowkey upset

he’s in denial

cause how are you gonna try to break up with THE park jongseong??

over text too??!

will not let you “break up” with him

🔖 — jake.

might actually break down in tears

he’s a bit emotional guys

is literally going through a list of things he did in his day to check if he did anything wrong

shut him up with kisses please before he starts panicking

definitely don’t try this prank on him again

“hey, babe-“ jake sat next to you on the couch, going in for a kiss. he stopped his sentence though, when you dodged the smooch he was about to give you.

“jake, omg this is why i wanna break up with you.” you playfully rolled your eyes. his turned into puppy ones, now leaning away from you slowly.

“w-what? did i do something? am i being too touchy? clingy? did i forget to put the seat down? did-“

he began to rant before you grabbed his face in both of your hands and brought your lips to his soft plump ones.

he made a confused noise but still melted into the kiss.

“I’m confused.” his words were muffled by your lips still on his, his hands coming to rest where yours remained on the sides of his face.

“i can never prank you.”

🔖 — sunghoon.

smug.

knows you’re not serious

cause once again, how are you gonna leave HIM?

does not take you seriously

“hoon, we should end this.” you said to him, leaning on the countertop in your kitchen. he stood at the stove, attempting to make dinner for the both of you.

“what, me trying not to burn dinner?” he chuckled a bit, that deep laugh making your cheeks warm. you tried not to get distracted by his charm and continue with the prank.

“no, our relationship.”

he snorted, not sparing you a glance, “y/n, please.”

“what?”

“you love me way too much to leave me. i’m just too handsome and lovable.” he shrugged, continuing to stir around dinner in his pan.

“you’re no fun, sunghoon.”

🔖 — sunoo.

ok?

then leave?

will not complain 😹

only cause he knows you’re not serious

if you were, he’d obviously talk to you abt it

but because he’s not fooled by your little jokes anymore he’s like fine 🤷🏽‍♀️

“sunoo, we should break up.”

“okay.” he responded from the sofa, scrolling through his phone. he didn’t even look up at you, just shrugging his shoulders when he answered.

“okay?” your mouth was agape as you laughed a bit.

“mhm. bye-bye.” he waved somewhere in your direction, still not looking up from his phone.

“SUNOO, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT FOR ME.”

“nah, im good.”

🔖 — jungwon.

is like wtf

wdym break up

what did he do?

lowkey has a hard time processing what you just said

you walk side by side with jungwon up to the library the two of you would be studying at. you stopped outside of the door, a faux pout on your face.

“what’s wrong, love?” jungwon stopped to look at your face as your gaze seemed to be on the ground.

you turned to him, “wonie, we need to break up.”

“what?” his eyebrows furrowed below his beanie. he shifted on one foot, eyes still on you as he tried to process the words that escaped your lips. the words he never, ever wanted to hear.

“we have to break up.”

“y/n, did you seriously bring me all the way here just to tell me that?” now he sounded irritated, his jaw clenching.

you finally looked up to see his expression, actually feeling bad now.

“no, baby, im just joking.” you hid your giggle with a small smile, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he sighed, shaking his head while mirroring your smile. he placed a hand on your head while the other came to wrap around you.

“come on, we’ve got some studying to do.”

🔖 — ni-ki.

wants to take you serious when he sees your face but he just can’t

ki is the prank master, he can see right through your little jokes

is like, “you? wanna leave me? yea ok 😹”

clowns you 100%

ni-ki plops on your bed, ready to share different details about your day when he notices your expression.

“what?” he lifts his head, propping himself on his elbows.

you sigh, not looking up, “i wanna break up.”

there was a loud silence before it was interrupted by ni-ki’s loud laugh. he cackled for a good while, grasping his stomach as you looked at him like he was crazy.

“are you really laughing right now?”

“i-im sorry, it’s just-“ he snorted, laughing even harder this time. you sat there, arms folded. you could never fool someone who could pull pranks better than you.

⟢ milan’s notes: another short reaction im sorry 😞

taglist: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura (message or comment to be added)

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hello :3 Can I get a long scenario with my dearest Jamil?

I really love him so much >///< so here is my scenario, I hope you can accept

Jamil got sick and has a fever. MC stayed beside him and nursed him for 3 days without blinking and finally he recovered. He started to remember her care during his illness after his fever dropped. And when he woke up, MC hugged him tightly. A bit long, huh? 😅 I would be happy with little NSFW, not gonna lie.

Well hello there, fellow Jamil enthusiast~ It has certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? It is my utmost pleasure to present you with the *long-awaited* scenario at hand! A bit of NSFW, some heart-warming fluff and Jamil finally getting a GODDAMN break, coming right up! It's not full on NSFW, just a lil bit, as requested, I don't know why it turned out like that- still, I hope this is good! (Tbh, it fits the scenario)

P.S. This hit close to home, I used to be a very sickly child and I still catch all sorta sicknesses a lot easier than normal people. So, what he will experience here is all based on very PERSONAL and very SALTY experience. 🙃

"What am I gonna do with you? You can't keep pushing yourself so much!" You murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Jamil's forehead as he slept soundly.

.......

Jamil hated being sick. Pretty normal right? Everybody hates being sick.

But to Jamil, sickness meant pushing through and continuing with his chores, regardless of his wellbeing. Imagine cooking above a hot stove with a high temperature. Can't be pleasant, can it?

But even the hardest stones could crack under enough force - such is the way the world works. It was towards the end of the day, as Jamil was preparing Kalim's dinner, when he felt his body give out under him. All day he'd been going around with a fever, he felt as if his own body was rotting on the inside, screaming at him to stop and have a break. His eyes were watery and felt as though they were burning in his eye sockets.

He couldn't even reach a chair to sit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor - too dizzy and too weak. Rarely did he ever get this sick, but this time it was bad. He moved to a more comfortable position and remained like that, trying to gather enough strength to get some medicine..... He most certainly didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, too tired to move, nor did he hear Kalim's worried voice when he found him on the floor in the kitchen.

And Kalim? Kalim was terrified! Quickly he called on his dorm members to move him to his room and immediately called you, crying on the phone, worried that Jamil might never wake up. (That's not how colds work, Kalim-) Worried about Jamil, you immediately rushed to the Scarabia dorm, medicine in hand.

_____________

And now here you are, in the present, taking extensive care of your near delirious not-quite-boyfriend-but-kinda-love-interest. He'd occasionally wake up and exchange barely audible pleasantries with you, drink his "extra healthy and full of good stuff" chicken soup (whatever that was supposed to entail) and then fall back into slumber. His fever has gone down drastically, but the utter exhaustion left in its wake has kept him bedridden. Apparently it was a seasonal fever, which just so happened to hit Jamil, who in turn chose to ignore it in the beginning.

You'd taken the liberty to remain situated in his room for about three days.

Day one was the worst - high fever, clattering teeth and a sleepless night to boot. You'd change his shirt every time he'd drench it in sweat whilst fighting off the fever. You'd switch up the cloth every time it lost its cooling effect, you'd remained by his side the entire time, least he needed something anything at all.

"Once you get better, I'm so gonna yell at you for not taking better care of yourself.... You're lucky I love you." You'd mumbled, barely audible in the quiet of the room as he slept.

Day two was better - he slept through most of it and you could in turn prepare some soup, as well as cover most of his chores, get a pass from the teachers AND even leave him some of your notes for when he recovers. (Look at you go! He'd better propose imo)

Now, on day three he was evidently much healthier. Finally he gave up trying to get out of bed, and instead lay resting, drinking his medicine, feeling utterly pampered by you.

_____________

"How long have you...been here?" You seemed pretty tired in his eyes. The moment you heard his voice you immediately threw yourself gently on him, gently crushing his bones in a hug.

"A while." You responded, face buried in his chest. In reality, you hadn't had a proper night of sleep in about 3 days. You DID sleep, Kalim even prepared a guest bedroom, but you chose to remain next to Jamil for most of the time. "Do you know how worried I was?"

"You didn't have to do all this, you know? You could've get sick too."

"I could've, but I haven't. For somebody with such a keen eye and monstrous deliberation, you really don't know how to take care of yourself properly." You quipped back, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

"As, so I'm being reprimanded now." His gaze softened. "Thank you....for taking care of me these last few days... I've forgotten what it's like to not have to worry or do anything... I feel like I've slept a lifetime... I don't know how I could possibly return the favour."

You can't stay mad at him. He knows it, you know it. Hell, even the Great Seven know it.

"Return it by recovering completely."

He chose not to continue the conversation. He knew arguing was pointless.

"You know, while I was sleeping, or trying to, I was mostly aware of what was happening around me." He began, pushing himself up, in a sitting position. "When you'd quietly hum to yourself, or cuss when you couldn't find something..."

"Ah- well, did you now? Sorry if you had a difficult time falling asleep because of me. " you felt your cheeks warm up a bit.

"No no, please. It's fine. You've taken such good care of me. I just... couldn't help but hear something, which perhaps I wasn't meant to."

He reached out, tangling his hand in your hair.

"Something about you loving me?"

...

Nope, all that heat in your cheeks? Gone. Now it was just coldness and dread.

He saw your frazzled state and chuckled. "I guess I'm really lucky, to have you to take *such* good care of me, huh."

He leaned in, but stopped just centimetres away.

"I shouldn't."

You heart dropped even lower, if that was even possible.

"I could get you sick.~" There was a lilt to his voice, but his eyes showed concern.

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you leaned in, smashing your lips onto his. He smiled into the kiss, pulling you towards him.

Naturally, you moved to sit in his lap, his hands moving to your waist.

"Your feelings are returned, for the record." He mumbled in between heated kisses. The more heated the kisses became, the more his hands would wander until-

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him. Skillfully he unbuttoned the first few buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your neck and collarbones. "I think I have a way of returning the favour. You took such good care of me, I think it's my turn~"

His attention moved to your neck, leaving heated languid kisses and playful bites on your skin. His hand trailed down to spread your legs, moving between them. Every single touch of his was intoxicating. Pretty quickly your shirt was thrown on the floor, the supple flesh underneath - covered in hickeys.

"Are you not going to undress as well? Or should I do that for you?" you asked, breathless, yet teasing in manner. Well. As teasing as one could get, given how achingly turned on you were. "Like you didn't have more than enough time to appreciate the view, during these last few days." he teased right back, but his hands moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time." He practically purred, fingers gliding over your stomach, gently trailing lower and lower.

"Of course, you can tell me to stop anytime."

"I don't want you to."

"As you wish, my dear. Then I'll make sure to indulge, taking, tasting, touching every single part of you. "

[tyunkus]

how would txt react to their s/o wanting to try facesitting? :0

ur a genius anon (other members under the cut!)

yeonjun would try to hide how excited he is but you can see the way his face literally lights up when you mention it. dont tease him ok its all hes been thinking about for so long!!!! he lovesss eating u out and hes fucking great at it too, it was only a matter of time before u just sat on his face. he would be so so gentle with you, encouraging you to put your full weight down - sex with yeonjun can be so intense sometimes, but this time it feels so fun n easy, jjunie smiling from between your legs, egging you on <3 and god the moan he lets out when you finally sit, the sounds he would make underneath you, muffled by your cunt </3 FUCK you'd just constantly be kept on your toes, he always changes up the pace, long stripes of his tongue or suckling on your clit or whatever else comes to mind <3

soobin would agree right away!! nothing really special about it, you mention it to him one day and he agrees to try it with u! little do you know hes kinda been fantasizing over it for forever the lil perv. n just imagine.. domestic soobin relaxed on the bed and when you come out of the shower wearing only your underwear.. n he smiles at you and tells you to come over, take a seat <3 he's corny like that ok <3 his palms wrap firmly around ur waist, almost like he's warming them up on ur skin, n then he's sloowlllyyy pulling down your panties <3 moves his enormous hands down to cup your ass, a careful, steady grip while you lower ur pussy onto his warm tongue :') your lip caught between your teeth when you relax your full weight on his face and youre so nervous but hes taking it all in stride, his fingers fucking digging into your butt because he needs to get a grip or he might come on the very spot 😞

beomgyu my little menace theres no dilly dallying when it comes to him! the second you mention it to him he's down to try it right away, even if its not something hes really thought of before. but when he sees you hovering over him, legs quivering n your face all cute and scrunched up - as cute as you are, he's not having any of it, will demand you to sit >:( n when you nod n mumble out okay, okay he just gives your thigh a light slap n rumbles good girl, right before your cunt meets his tongue <3 HED BE SOOOO INTO IT growling n moaning while he eats you out, squeezing your thighs so hard, cant help it sometimes but to slip in a little dirty talk here n there against your pussy haskhdas

taehyun would be SOOO down to try it especially since it would give him the chance to show off his strength AHAHAHA telling you to hurry and take a seat on his face, the fuck you mean you're nervous? weren't you the one who wanted this in the first place? no fair if you make him wait, come on, babygirl, sit on it - he's a strong boy! tyun's just obsesseddd with watching ur lower lip wobble with want while hes licking n sucking at you, loves landing small smacks on your ass throughout it just to hear how you squeak <3 and you're honestly surprised that you don't feel unsafe at all - taehyun is just that strong tbh hes so dreamy <3

HUENING KAI <33333 pretty sure ive already discussed this before but he would be so so sweet and gentle and cute he literally melts inside when he sees how wobbly your knees are right before you give in and sit on his mouth <3 he just wants to make you feel so, so good, so give it all to him and don't hold back! ride his face if you need to, he just wants to be a good boyfriend for you and make you come!!! and when you do come, its like his entire world just freezes at the sight of you unraveling on top of him fuck his cheeks are just so pink n his eyes are so wide n his thick cock is straining his pants ughh can you let him fuck you now please ?!! <3333

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; desi-coded reader (tbh...specifically bangladeshi dkjfsdj), pre-wedding celebration, so blatantly selfship coded i might have to delete it if the shame kicks in , 18+

Night air wisps against your warm skin like thin threads of silk as you step away from the party - with the assistance of Sakura, who held the door open like his life depended on it.

Your arms are stiff from how long you've been holding them in the same position, but after upwards of three hours - all the mendhi required for your upcoming wedding ceremony has been put on.

From the tips of your fingers all the way down to your elbows and even some parts of your feet. It's the one aspect of the celebration you've always looked forward too. When you glance down and see it, its completely surpassed your expectations

Through the light of your window is your family and friends, traditional folk music and ballad love songs play as guest dance and laugh in the warm lights of your living room. Laughter bubbles through the crack letting out some air and you smile to yourself, careful not to touch anything.

The feeling of drying mendhi on your skin is nostalgic even in it's mild discomfort, a slight itch in the intricate designs covering your palms. You sniff a little from the cool air, lungs filling with the earthy, heavy scent of mendhi paste and the sharp bitterness of mustard oil.

You slip further away until you end up enough distance away for the sound to quiet. Crickets chirp and the wind blows - as if the whole world is feeling soft.

You aren't expecting Umemiya to pop out from anywhere. He must've noticed you leaving and followed you out. You try not to smile and fail when he makes his way towards you.

Umemiya grins brighter than the sun. In the dead of night and even amidst the pleasant atmosphere - nothing shines quite like him. He looks good in the clothes your extended family so painstakingly picked out for him. A panjabi and salwar to match, a pleasantly deep shade of blue to go with his eyes. Your kameez is more complicated, but the tailoring similarities of the florals and beadwork make you happy no matter how trivial. It feels a little more worth getting three outfits tailored looking at him.

He cuts a fine figure in general, you think.

He approaches first with worry. A furrow in his brow.

"You okay?"

You smile at him and then smile a little more at the way it makes him relax instantly.

"I'm good." You take a deep breath, hands stiff at your sides and suddenly itching to find his to hold. "Was getting hot and stiff sitting for so long."

"Oh, is it done finally? Am I allowed to look?"

"Were you gonna avoid looking at my arms for three days if I said no?" You tease. Umemiya's eyes fill with mirth and sincerity.

"If I had too."

Silly. You love him, you think. You shake your head. "You can look. Might be a little hard to see even with the street light though."

"That's okay." He says, and there's something deeply doting in his voice that makes you feel like you might sink. "An excuse to get close to you is always nice to have."

You hold out your arms and lift your palms gently to Umemiya. His admiration makes your heart swell ten folds. His hands are careful as they slide underneath your own decorate ones, careful not to touch the actual design but to support your forearms and wrists.

"It's so beautiful."

"Right? She did a good job. She's doing Kotoha-chans now."

He makes a little affirmative noise while he draws his eyes along the different shapes and patters. Traditional shapes of roses and marigolds along with inspired cuts. There's a mix of imagery, well integrated - patterns of cranes and cherry blossoms well woven into it as symbolism. Umemiya pauses, most certainly noticing the nuance.

"I like it a lot. You're gonna look so beautiful."

You brush past the words, unable to respond to them without feeling earnest flush. Umemiya is undeterred by this, just offers a smile and another light touch. He leans it to place a kiss to your temple before pulling back.

A thought pops into your head. You wanted to show him eventually - you thought at least after you washed it off, but now seems like a better time.

"Oh and..." You carefully hold your wrist up to him. "See?"

He squints for a long while before breaking out into an impossible grin. Hidden in the wrists of your mendhi design are the characters of his name - integrated into the piece. You can see the very moment it clicks.

"Is that...is it traditional?"

"Maybe? It's common at least. I thought it'd be more special with the Japanese characters though.”

A little nod to him and to you. He's silent for a long while, deep in thought about something. You don't know what exactly.

"I love it," He says, then looks up at you. He presses his forehead against yours, a gentle tap that still manages to catch you off guard as he does. The decorative teep on your forehead presses a little into his skin as he does it but you don't make a move to pull away from his affection. "I love you."

You tilt your head a little, pretending to wipe sweat from your brow.

"That's a relief."

He shakes his head. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Could you feed me something off the table inside? I'm hungry."

He almost seems upset he didn't think of it first. He nods. "I'll be right back. Stay put but be careful."

"I'm right infront of the house Hajime."

"It's always good to be careful. I'd be sad if my wife went missing just days before,"

“I’ll be safe,”

“And I’ll be quick,”

He pauses before he goes back through the door, turning suddenly before he smiles again. Impossibly gently, he runs his fingers through his hair before running back to you.

Another kiss to the corner of your mouth followed with one to your lips. The last one carefully place on the drying mendhi on your arms just where his name sits.

“I love you,”

You soften. “I love you too, Hajime. You can dote on me as much as you want when you come back.”

He grins. “I’ll hold you to that.”

glossary of terms:

mendhi - more commonly known as henna, a special skin safe paste used for decorative designs. commonly red or black.

panjabi - bangla word for kurta. basically a long item of menswear that stops just past the knee or above.

teep - also known as bindi. a decorative sticker or red dot placed in the center of the forehead.

** more cultural notes: in bangladesh mustard oil is often used to deepen the color of mendhi. it normally goes on after or while almost dry.

[luffyvace]

Tanjiro x male reader<3

Tanjiro x male reader won second place in the poll!! :) enjoy tanjiro stans<3

Starting back at the final selection let’s say that’s when you met

just to clear things up

and you two started dating some time after that

of course eventually making it official

tanjiro was quite flustered when he realized his sexuality might be different from tradition

but he wasn’t afraid to be bi/gay/pan or anything

he just thought- ..! Actually he never really thought of that type of thing..

I mean he was kinda too young

but now that your together!

he has time to figure it all out :)

tanjiro is such a sweet lover!

and helpful!

and caring!

(Really he’s a ball of love)

if you feel tired he carries you

(Even if your both beat up after a mission)

if you need water he’ll spare you some of his or go fetch some

And he’s always down to spar at any type of day!

I will say he’s not thinking about you in that way when you take your shirt off

but when you do he definitely admires you!

you might have abs seeing as though the demon slayer corps has………...harsh (brutal) training 😅

if you do then he sees it as a result of your hard work!

same with scars!

especially with scars<3

he can 100% relate and you two share stories about each one

if you have any—you probably trauma bond

you guys just end up talking all night long about your past, everything that happened, your pain, whether you want revenge or not and so on!

It strengthens your trust and relationship with each other

btw if anyone asks why your together as two males or how you know you actually like men..

tanjiro will humbly and politely educate (lecture) them on how important you are to each other, how you met, why/when you started dating and even if they don’t like it, it’s simple to walk away instead of disrespecting your relationship!

I hope y’all don’t run into uzui..

(y’all do)

that man has THREE wives why wouldn’t he question when he sees you two?? 😬🧍‍♀️

tanjiro had to hit em with the quick fix cuz when I tell you he did not let that slide 😂

especially with how slick uzui mouth be gettin..😒

Tanjiro also has learned to adjust to scavenging for food (he grew crops with his mom)

as well as inosuke (he grew up in the wild) and zenitsu (he used to have crops with his sensei)

so if you can too, great!

if not the 3 of them work together to make the 4 of you meals

and after they learn how to stop burning them

theyre pretty tasty too!!

don’t expect inosuke to share.

do expect inosuke to take

-note to self, m/n.

zenitsu doesn’t see the attraction to males instead of females

he won’t judge but will ask you two if your sure your into males

and after tanjiro gives him that lecture about being respectful-

he doesn’t question it again

LOL

inosuke straight up don’t care

he doesn’t really view relationships in a romantic way

its more so between “they’re beneath me” , “they’re above me, I must beat them”

so no worries about him judging either 😋

if nezuko doesn’t like you

it’s not to say tanjiro won’t date you because of it

but I’ll honestly say it plays a factor

If sweet nezuko doesn’t like you it prob means something..🤨

she has good instincts so tanjiro might start to assume you have ill intent or smth 😬

he’ll try to get her to like you and if she warms up to you he assumes it might’ve been personal 😂🤷‍♀️

but if she doesn’t..

he finds you like 30% less attractive🧍‍♀️

if she does like you from jump, she starts to protect you as well

and loves to spend time with you when she’s outside her box

tanjiro adores this and you three cuddle or play in each other’s hair whenever you have the time

It also makes him happy if you accept nezuko as a demon quickly

after missions tanjiro finds you, nezuko, zenitsu and inosuke

then cries

like your all just a crying mess tbh

i mean unless your like emotionally unavailable..

BC I DON’T SEE HOW YOU COULD NOT CRY AS A MINOR WHO HAS TO KILL LITERAL HORRIFYING BEASTS FOR A LIVING?!?!?!?

Tanjiro will help you achieve your goals as you likely help him achieve his

even more so after that night you had where you opened up to each other about your past

(again, only if you have truama)

tanjiro is really grateful for you

before all he had was nezuko

and aside from zenitsu and inosuke

now he has you!! 💗

tanjiro’s love languages are acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation and (shy) physical touch

actually maybe some gift giving when he can too!!

so all?!

such a green flag 💖

for acts of service as I said he’ll genuinely do any sane thing you ask of him

he cares about you that much

he won’t bother to complain about being tired either

he automatically assumes your either doing worse or he’s fine

as for quality time he gets really relieved when he gets sent on missions with you

at least he can be there to see and protect you

(or maybe vice versa 😂)

he’d beat himself up about not being able to protect you more if you get serious injures

tends to your wounds everyday then trains vigorously

to get stronger and protect you as you fight along side him when he fights muzan

if your gonna fight along side him in that battle? He’s gonna need to be strong enough to protect you.

he doesn’t want to loose you.

especially not to that man.

he lost everything to him.

he won’t let it happen again.

💗💕💖🍡♥︎

for quality time outside of missions ✌︎('ω')✌︎

tanjiro likes to train, cuddle, go on walks, go shopping, chit chat :)

All that good stuff <3

with words of affirmation he really just praises you all the time

”you did your best today in training! I could tell! :D”

“You look great today m/n!! I’m glad your wearing the (favorite men’s jewelry piece) I got you!”

”I can definitely tell your getting stronger, m/n!!!”

c:

it can also be

“get a good nights sleep, m/n! I love you!”

”be careful on your mission okay? I love you, m/n!”

“thank goodness we surviveeeeed!!! I love you m/n!! I love you so much!!”

now lastly for (shy) physical touch

he is nervous to touch you

he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, yes that’s the last thing he wants

he doesn’t know how to execute it so he ends up either asking or making it very obvious of what he’s trying to do

that way you can shut him down early on just in case

and you won’t feel pressured to let him if you dislike affection

which mind you he does asks if your okay with it first

so that’s likely not the case

if you did mention your distaste for physical affection, however, it’s duly noted in his mind and will keep it to a minimum

your gonna have to discuss boundaries or else he’s gonna act like you have the plague trying not to upset you 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Tanjiro doesn’t dislike pda or anything

he’s just a bit embarrassed about it

maybe if it’s more subtle like resting your head on his shoulder, then yeah that’s okay!

hugging too!!

but direct kissing or hand holding?

his face is a cherry and he’s apologizing to the passerbyers for disturbing them

even if they don’t mind

he’s self aware when it comes to not disturbing others

tanjiro can be a little flustered/shy about things but he’s certainly isn’t embarrassed about your relationship!

he’s quite proud, actually!

will happily tell/correct anyone that asks or misjudges♡♡♡

It’ll make me happy if you enjoyed this, so hopes to you did!

(apologies for the procrastination, and thank you for your patience lovelies!)

[superstarz9]

So y’all fw EVEN MORE Mr. Puzzles hcs?

Cause I got some :}

tbh I feel like Puzzles get’s too babied in the fandom. A lot of people forget that he’s kind of an asshole, and takes a long time to warm up to people. However, once he realizes how he feels and is willing to reach out more, things get a lot better.

It’d probably be really awkward more than anything else. He wouldn’t understand relationship stuff and you’d have to explain things to him, which would kill the tension for a bit. However, he makes a huge effort trying to be a good partner.

Puzzles wants a relationship (platonic or romantic) but doesn’t want to be fixed/helped. He likes the attention and having a permanent audience.

If anyone here knows Guilty Gear, you guys would probably be like A.B.A and Paracelsus, where the two of you would get into a relationship out of needing something from the other rather than for genuine interests (Him wanting someone to control and you wanting to fix him (or make him worse)) (Yes, this is a callout post for all of us, me included). It would take a while for the both of you to finally realize that your goals are what is harming the relationship from going further, and it takes a while to overcome that boundary. But once you guys do, it’s much easier to work together.

If your relationship is in the real world, he’d probably get annoyed with you more often than not during the beginning. Nothing that would make him lose it, but enough that he’d need to take a moment to readjust. Picture him dealing with Mario’s antics in the gameshow episode without going crazy, as well as him talking to Boopkins during the Price is Right Segment.

Bottom.

He’ll let you kiss his screen but the moment you aren’t looking he’s wiping that shit off. Not because he doesn’t like it, in fact he loves how much you wanna kiss him and give him attention, but it’s a ocd/texture thing; he can’t handle feeling dirty in any way.

When he blushes, it’s like screen-burn (when a static/unmoving image burns into the screen for long periods of time). If he’s blushed in the past 30 mins, you can still slightly see it up close.

His love languages is gift giving and acts of service. He also loves literally everything except gift because you’d be the greatest gift (plus he’s personally not a material-wealth kinda guy. Leave the gift-giving to him).

Doesn’t have a type/isn’t picky. Anyone who’s willing to give him attention, he’ll love.

He hasn’t genuinely laughed at something in years. He’s seen all the comedy shows and knows all the tropes so much that nothing gets to him anymore. You might make him chuckle or smirk but his goal is to make you smile and laugh. If you do laugh at his jokes, it warms his heart a lot. However, he can tell if a laugh is forced/fake, and will call you out on it if he’s not in a good mood.

Whether you like it or not, you pretty much can’t leave him alone once the two of you are official. If he needs some kind of comfort, he’s latching onto you. If you’re far away, he’ll either make the journey to see you or will call you every ten minutes

Hates modern phones and can’t text for shit. The gloves DO NOT help at all. He’ll just call you if he wants to talk to you, but the two of you are usually together so there’s no need.

Literally just unhindged Fluttercord.

A Two-for-one deal: a partner and a white noise machine lol.

Tastes like battery acid. I will not elaborate further.

His memories are like recordings that he can display on his screen, but he rarely does. If he falls asleep and dreams about memories of you, he might display them like that one scene of Pearl sleeping in Steven Universe.

Loves coordinating and matching outfits, but he’ll literally wear the same thing so he likes it when you coordinate with him, really.

Fr tho he is totally a bottom, but he’s overall more of a switch. If he has control over the situation, he’ll make sure everything goes flawlessly. However, if you make him go off-script and cause him to fumble, you can easily take over.

Now these ones are specifically horror movie/show based from a request last post!

He’s okay with slasher movies, but hates the amount of unnecessary stuff like the swearing and sex. All cheep tactics to the the audience interested.

Hates phycological horror. Respects it, but hates it. Partially because he’s in minor denial of what he puts his actors through (he knows and accepts that’s he’s brainwashing people and controlling them, but he often justifies if for his sake).

Likes watching some horror movies because a lot of actors started with horror and got bigger because of it.

Truthfully, he’s a little traumatized from horror movies after staying up late one night to watch night television and adult shows as a kid. When a horror movie started playing, he forced himself to watch the whole thing and had nightmares about it months after. He overall tries to avoid horror.

If you guys are in a relationship and you wanna watch a horror movie, he’ll be hesitant. As you set it up, he’d also try to switch the movie and distract you, which fails. “Well, I mean, if you insist. Oh- but how about this other movie! It’s excellent, and the bonus features are so interesting!”

If you call him out for it, he’d apologies and admit he’s not a fan of horror. You could totally tease him, saying that “there’s no such thing as monster” and that you’re there to protect him if something goes bump in the night, and he’ll get offended and would watch the movie JUST to prove that he isn’t afraid.

He’d be shaking by the 30 min mark, over-dramatically reacting to everything. This could be for 1 of 2 things:

1. He’s genuinely terrified and the suspense is killing him. He’s curled up on the couch with his manic smile waiting for SOMETHING to happen, but nothing’s happening yet, so why’s THE MUSIC GETTING LOUDER?!?!?! You could scare him with a poke or a loud noise, which would cause him to basically skyrocket to the ceiling in fear, or you could gently take his hand and cuddle with him, which he’d immediately grab onto you and squeeze you the entire movie.

2. The acting is horrible and nothing makes sense. If the fear isn’t good enough to captivate him, he’s sprawled out on the couch and complaining the whole time. It’s almost funny how passionate he is about it, if not for the fact that you just wanna watch a movie. You could shush him, but he’ll just go back to talking in the next 5 minutes.

As for the theatre, you kinda can’t take him regardless of what’s playing, mainly because of his screen. He can’t dim it, and he’s already a beacon of light in dim rooms, so the theatre is a no go. He doesn’t mind, as he obviously prefer television. However, if you’re willing to drive and watch them, he’s fine with drive-in theatres. They remind him of his childhood, and it give him a reason to cuddle with you.

Only major downside of a drive-in is all the bugs sticking to his screen in the night, which he’d freak out about. He’d drench himself with so much bug repellent that he’d stink of chemicals.

Here’s a bunch of relationship hcs! Tried to make them mostly interchangeable between romantic and platonic relationships. I’ll continue to cook up more headcanons but I may or may not be working on a fic of my own, inspired by all the amazing writing I’ve been reading from the fandom. Til then, I’ll continue posting here! Questions/comments/suggestions are greatly appreciated. Thanks and have a great day!

[moonchild701]

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Wish List

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Summary: Dabi makes a Christmas wish

Pairing: Dabi/Reader (it's mostly just kinda Implied tbh)

Content Warning: Angst, SFW

Word Count: 800

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 1st of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Wish List

My Masterlist

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The crunch of ice and snow beneath bootfalls echoes within the alleyway.

Dabi's hands are stuffed into his pockets as he makes his way down the path, to the fire escape of the side of a building. The sound of creaking metal fills the still quiet of the chilly night air as he climbs it.

Settling on the roof, he stares out at the distant buildings. Normally this would be dangerous, with all the heroes patrolling, but the air is far too crisp for the average person this high up, so it's safe enough. His quirk keeps him warm, and the height keeps him out of sight.

He'd needed to get away from the others for a while. Toga's constant spiel about the holidays and how they should celebrate was getting insufferable.

When he was younger, when he was Touya, he can hardly remember the holidays being the happy and joyous time people would consider it being.

Christmas somehow felt colder than it should be. Not because of the falling snow or the chilly air, but because of the stifling atmosphere within their house.

You'd think that living under the roof of  man with a fire quirk, it'd be warm and cozy. But then you'd of course remember that it's Endeavor, so, of course.

Though, it wasn't really always like that.

At first, it was normal enough, he thinks. His mother and father would shower their first born in gifts and joy and love.

Their first born they were so happy to have, so proud of, that they'd beam when he babbled at them.

And when his quirk came in, all the more joy, playing with his two younger siblings, taking care of them. He's going to be a hero after all! Heroes take care of people!

Of course that didn't last very long, as they learned that his quirk hurts him; his body not suited to it. And in his father's eyes, a failure. A waste.

And so they had another child, one last attempt at correcting the smear on the oh so great Todoroki name.

When Shouto was born, on that cold January day, the chill of his existence seeped into their very bones. Into the walls of their home, the floors beneath their feet, the ceiling over their heads, pressing in from all sides.

As Dabi, the joy he vaguely remembers are mere fragments, they're so distant in the past.

So when Toga said she wanted to celebrate, his scars itched.

Itched like they were freshly healing, like they were raw.

He doesn't know how to celebrate anymore, doesn't know if he ever really knew.

He doesn't know if he'd be able to pretend to enjoy himself, or how he'd react if he actually does enjoy it.

Because his true wish is to be able to do that freely. But alas, his bastard of a father still breathes, and when he does take his final breath, most likely so would he. So it doesn't seem to be in his realm of possibilities.

Though, he supposes, that's really all a wishlist is for.

Wishing and hoping and dreaming for

things you want, but you know deep down isn't really possible.

Looking at a particular building, an apartment complex, he sees a little family eating dinner through open curtains.

A father, a mother, a young girl and two boys, one older than the other two.

It's what he would've had in an ideal world.

It's what he used to wish for on particularly cold nights, curled up beneath his futon, bandages around the wounds littering his tiny body and the cold indifference in his father's eyes seared into his heart.

The father in the window ruffles his eldest son with a smile just as the first few specks of snowflakes begin to fall, and Dabi thinks maybe having a little wish might not be so bad.

It's not going to come true, he knows, but he still wishes.

On a whim, he reaches out to catch a snowflake like he's seen others do.

And he makes another wish. He wishes that at least the future will be better.

That as much as Toga is a little brat, as much as Twice can be annoying, as much as Shigaraki is an ass, as much as Compress is a showy snob, as much as Spinner is a Stain kiss ass, and as much as Kurogiri has a stick up his ass......he gets to keep them.

As much as he loves and doesn't deserve you, he gets to keep you anyway.

He wishes that he can keep his new family this time, wishes that they'll keep him too. Wishes that at the end of all of this, maybe he can actually be happy.

Who knows? Maybe it'll be a Christmas miracle.

*****

The snowflakes melt before they can touch his skin.

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[4ngeldusstt]

“M I N E”

A/N: this is not how i originally wrote this, but i tried my best to rewrite it as close as it was before tumblr fking deleted it, anyway this was supposed to be a “just a thought” but it’s too long so here’s a short fic that’s actually just a scenario (?. I really hate the title tbh but that’s all i could come out with rn.

Warnings: alcohol effects, drinking, slight mentions of soft smut but nothing happens, swearing

Word count: 858

The last mission was a success, meaning there was a party going on that same night in order to relieve some stress among us, the soldiers. Levi recently introduced you to alcohol not so long ago, so you didn’t quite know how to handle it nor what your limit was just yet. You decided to have some wine and you started feeling the effects of it, warm blushed cheeks, everything made you laugh, your introvert self becoming more outgoing with every sip.

You were quite popular amongst the male soldiers in the scouts, some of them already were head over heels in love with you, so they took this opportunity and took advantage of your state in the way of sitting next to you, encouraging you to rest your head on their shoulder, they even had fights over who would fill up your cup.

Meanwhile your lover, Levi, was observing from afar his gaze telling everything words couldn’t, the desire to kill all of those fucking bastards if he could was written all over his face, his expression alone was enough to make them shit their pants in fear if they dared to look at him. You both decided that keeping your relationship private was the best decision but he wished, that in this moment, he could let everyone know how your heart belonged to him.

Even in your state you noticed when Levi stood up and left, to his office, you already knew that. Following his steps soon after, not even bothering to knock on the door you made your way to the comfortable looking leather couch, looking at him with half lidded eyes and a smile, he didn’t even bother to look your way ever since you came in but your stare was piercing enough to make him finally notice you. “How are you feeling?” He eyed you before going back to the paperwork in front of him.

He was upset, not at you but to them, he couldn’t blame you for being so perfect every soldier in the scouts dreamed of marrying you. “Mhm, how can wine taste so bad but make me feel so warm and fuzzy huh?” You said closing your eyes leaning back into the cushions. “I damn the day I let you try out alcohol for the first time, you clearly don’t know how to handle it.” He scoffed, furrowing your brows for a second before it hit you, he was jealous. A smirk creeped into your lips as you slowly got up and made your way to his chair, taking a seat on his lap.

Your lips lingering near his ear whispering “are you perhaps… jealous?” Smiling as you noticed his grip on your hip get tighter. “What if I am? I hated seeing them all over you and not being able to do anything about it, you are mine and mine only.” His voice lowering an octave, causing you to clench your thighs together, he was well aware of the effects his voice had on you and he wanted to tease you a little bit. “Hmm you might have to remind me who I belong to.” You were so needy for him, the alcohol in your system making you more sensitive causing the ache between your thighs to worsen, he chuckled softly in response of your actions, “oh and I will, don’t worry. But not today, I’m sorry.” You whined and pouted at him, disagreeing with his decision.

Even though your were conscious enough and aware he was not going to do anything with you if he was sober and you were not, it wouldn’t feel right. “Come on, let’s take you to bed.” He said as soon as he realized it was taking everything in you not to fall asleep on him, due to the effects of the wine wearing off. He carried you bridal style and gently placed you onto the mattess of the bed you both shared. He helped you out of your clothes and placed one of his shirts covering your bare body that was a little too baggy for you, eyes closed not fully asleep yet, “mhm, thank you.” You said, “Anytime” he smiled softly even though you could not see him, soon after your head was placed on his chest as you started feeling his fingers slowly combing through your hair, leaving feathery kisses on your forehead every now and then as he read a book, you knew Levi barely slept, and today was no exception.

Prior to you passing out, you heard a faint whisper saying “I love you” into your hair followed by the soft touch of his lips pressing against your forehead lingering there a little longer than usual, it was such an intimate and loving act from a Levi that he, with time, managed to grow more comfortable in showing you, tightening your grip around his torso in response as you managed to mumble a weakly “I love you, thank you for loving me back.” before finally giving up and allowing yourself to succumb into a deep slumber, who knew humanity’s strongest soldier could be this gentle?

You did.

[cod-dump]

Tbh imagining Price, who’s never questioned his sexuality (but has always been a relaxed person & ally to his queer buddies) slowly falling in love with Nikolai to the point where he’s both shocked & joyfully surprised (think: crying) that he’s been/is queer…IDK, it makes me happy. Like, yeah, he had healthy relationships with women & his identity/sexuality is valid regardless of what happens next, but…him finding his soulmate (who just so happens to be a man) when he’s past being a kid…it’s fucking romantic to me! 😌

P. S. IDK if you heard but I’ve decided that NikPrice’s official ship name is Nickels, hehe

(Nickels is fucking adorable I might start using that)

Soulmate

PriceNik ficlet

___

It hit him after a successful mission. Everyone went out to celebrate drinks and all the food they could eat. Price was sitting in the corner by himself, happy to watch everyone laugh and smile after such a long and gruesome mission that none of them thought would ever end. He was nursing a beer when Nik came over, sitting next to him with a loud groan.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted."

Price laughs as Nik leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and just relaxing. Price couldn't help but stare at his friend, heart warmed by his presence. He wasn't sure how he would've gotten through this mission if Nik wasn't there. Sure, Nik was an extraordinary pilot and Price trusted him to get him and his team to wherever they needed to be and to be there to save their asses when needed.

But Nik just being there, at his side supporting him, that's what helped Price push through. Apparently he was staring too long, long enough for Nik to notice. He cracks an eye open, smirking at Price. Price felt himself grow hot in the face as Nik sits up straighter, Price choosing to look away and take another drink.

"I wonder, John..."

"Wonder about what?"

"If you're in love with me."

Price chokes on his beer, coughing heavily. It draws attention to them. Nik looks at those who chose to stare and they look away. Finally, Price's coughing slows, him turning to look at Nik.

"What?"

"You're not very subtle. Kate and I have been talking about it."

Price's face was on fire, he wonders if his face was a shade of red that matched the heat.

"What-What makes you think I'm in love with you?"

Nik chooses to stand instead of answer. Price stares at him as he leaves the pub, mind stirring with confusion. Has he really been giving off the impression he was in love with Nik? How come he's never noticed or why hasn't anyone brought it up before?

Price quickly climbs to his feet, all but running after Nik. He finds him outside, leaning against the side of the pub. He has a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. Price dumbly walks over to him, feeling like he was looking at Nik at a new angle that he didn't even know existed. Nik takes a drag from his cigarette, sighing as he blows out the smoke. For the first time, Price wasn't looking at him as just a friend.

"This is what I mean by not being subtle. The way you look at me..."

Nik speaks softly, coaxing Price to come closer. Price obeys the unspoken request, coming up to Nik's side. Price finds himself lost in Nik's deep brown eyes. They were so full of emotion. With uncertainty and hope.

"I wondered if you even knew. With your girlfriends you were never afraid to flaunt around."

Price could hear jealously in Nik's voice, something he's never heard before. Price breathes out, leaning on the wall next to Nik. He could tell that Nik was trying to not look at him, instead focusing upwards at the late evening sky.

Price could finally see it. What's been in front of him this entire time.

"I think I am in love with you."

Nik quickly looks to him, his cigarette almost flying out of his mouth with how quickly he turned. They stared at each other for a moment, neither saying anything or daring to make a move. A minute passes before Price reaches up, taking Nik's cigarette and putting it to his mouth. He takes a drag, holding in the toxic fumes for several seconds before finally releasing it. When he breathes out the last of the smoke, Nik moves.

Their lips press together, slow and uncertain. But it doesn't stay that way. Out of all the women Price has kissed over the years, this was the first time he felt that spark everyone talked about when kissing the one they love. Fireworks going over, feeling like he found that missing piece, the end of the red string--

He feels like he found his soulmate.

[minorisato]

if that's the case, won't you dance with me?

transformers / dratchet / wc: 2756 / warnings: NSFT / notes: wrote this forever ago, saw it in my docs, decided to touch it up and post it. takes place during mtmte. / consider commissioning me!

It’s not that Drift was unaware of Ratchet’s… reputation. Either reputation, actually, though he long understood that The Hatchet was a projection of his rather awful berthside manner. No, Drift had long disregarded that one. Ratchet’s other reputation, however, Drift had no way to prove or disprove. Just a longstanding series of rumours and a joke or two from Ratchet himself about “back in the day.”

But surely some jokes, a partier did not make. It was rude to assume anything about anyone’s past proclivities based on rumours and jokes, including Ratchet. Drift wouldn’t stoop to such a level.

When videos started surfacing, that was when Drift started thinking there might be something to those little “party ambulance” rumours. And by “when videos started surfacing” he means “when he found the videos while looking for fap material.”

Primus. Is he a bad person for this? Ratchet looks young in the videos– his frame is the same as it was all those years ago, when he– when he. Of course Drift would recognize him. These had to be taken not all too long before that. Meaning– meaning university.

Ratchet either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that he’s being filmed. Honestly, the video quality is actually quite poor, clearly taken in the heat of the moment. It’s a shot of Ratchet from behind, bouncing up and down, up and down on the nameless mech’s spike. He’s panting and whining and moaning, yes yes yes, don’t stop, feels so good, like he’s in heat. The nameless mech doesn’t say a word, but he does grope Ratchet’s aft. Drift scoffs. Classless. As if he wouldn’t also do that.

With how out-of-the-picture the nameless mech is, it’s so easy for Drift to imagine that he’s the one laying back, that it’s Ratchet bouncing up and down on his spike, moaning for him–

Drift, Drift–

“Drift! Drift, come in!” 

Drift jumps, immediately shutting off the video and retracting his spike and resetting his vocals and he really wasn’t doing anything he promises, before finally answering his comm. “Drift speaking. Is there a situation?”

“Drift, you need to go to the medbay like, now,” Rodimus tells him, sighing into the comm. “Ratchet keeps calling me and saying he’s been pinging you? He’s gonna have a fucking fit if you miss your physical again. And TBH,” did he just say TBH out loud, “I’m gonna be pissed too. You have like, ten minutes to get to medbay before I go to your hab and drag you there myself.” 

Drift groans. Right. Right, ‘cause that was today. “I’m going, I’m going. Drift out.”

~~~~

“There you are!” Ratchet shouts, the minute Drift enters. “Y’know, I was anticipating actually having a good day today, when even Rodimus showed up on time. But nope, can’t ever keep a schedule straight.”

Drift’s finials droop a bit. “Sorry, Ratch.”

The medic huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Get on the berth, I do have other patients today.” He grumbles. “Not for a bit, but I do.”

Drift does as he’s told, and takes a glance around the medbay as he climbs up. “Where’s Aid and Ambulon?”

Ratchet sets out his tools, taking his seat next to the berth. “Said they were goin’ on break. Probably at Swerve’s.” He shrugs. “It’s a slow day, basically just you lot–” Lost Light command, he means– “and a few other mechs.”

“Makes sense,” Drift nods, and then steels himself and prepares his facade of being extremely normal after just jacking off to the mech about to do medical work on him.

Primus. He can’t do this.

“Your plating’s quite warm,” Ratchet huffs. “Normally if it’s this warm, your cooling fans should have clicked on. Have you noticed any trouble with them coming on, recently?” Ratchet asks, activating the manual retraction of Drift’s paneling, revealing his medical ports.

Drift squirms a bit, and Ratchet puts a servo on his torso, to keep him still. Drift forces his cooling fans to not activate. “No, uh. No trouble with those recently.”

Ratchet hums, reaching for a two-ended cable. “See, I know Rodimus tends to run hotter than usual, but I don’t have that recorded for you. Seems best to plug in and check your internal temperature, just in case.”

“No!” Drift shouts, sitting upright very slightly. Ratchet backs up at the movement, yanking his hand back from Drift’s torso. “No, it’s seriously nothing to be worried about. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet squints. “Drift, you’re not normally so up-in-arms about me plugging in. You realize how suspicious this looks, right.”

Drift does. “Ratchet, please trust me, it’s nothing. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Mhm. I’m sure. Drift, I’m a doctor. If you’re overheating, I need to make sure you aren’t gonna melt your own circuits.”

“Ratch, you really don’t–”

“Hush up.” And then Ratchet is plugging one end of the two-way cable into Drift’s medical port, and another end of it into his own. Drift sees no point, then, at hiding the mortification he’s experiencing, because Ratchet is going to feel it anyway. In fact, Ratchet does feel it, and he scoffs. “Drift, you really don’t need to be so worried. It’s standard practice for a physical.”

Drift keeps quiet, raising his servos to cover his face, which Ratchet thankfully does not scold him for. Ratchet runs through him, pulls up his diagnostics, and hums. “You are running much hotter. Drift, I need you to be honest with me here, do you know why your temperature is so hiked?”

Drift exvents, and lowers his hands from his faceplates. He can do this. He can do this! Ratchet is a doctor, and really he doesn’t need to go into detail. It’ll be fine. Ratchet, I was jacking off. Probably shouldn’t say it like that, that’s very unprofessional. Ratchet, I was masturbating. Is that too straightforward? Ratchet, I was getting off. Is that fine?

“Drift?”

Oh Primus he’s taking too long.

“Ratchet,” he sighs, “I was… doing things. Before this.” Oh. Oh Primus no, that’s not how he was supposed to say it. Why did he say it like that?

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Yeah? Doing things?”

Drift nods. He’s experiencing a whole new level of mortification which Ratchet can definitely feel through him.

“Drift,” Ratchet questions, “I know you’re not on drugs. I know you aren’t. If you were I would have noticed immediately. Just tell me what you were doing.”

Oh, he can’t do this. “Ratchet I was– I was getting off.” That’s fine. That’s fine! That’s not even more mortifying. That’s fine. It’s over.

“Oh,” Ratchet lets out, “I– I see. Yes, that would raise your temperature. That makes sense.” Ratchet huffs. “You probably also cut off your cooling fans on purpose, then. You oughta let them go, staying too hot for too long can end up damaging your circuits and interior plating.”

Drift nods, and then does as he’s told. The sound of cooling fans permeates the overall quiet of the medbay. “I’m– I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ratchet tells him, though doesn’t he himself look a little… off-kilter? Doesn’t he also look a little pink in the faceplates? “Y’know, I’ve seen a lot of mechs injure themselves that way, so really just hearing that you’re getting up to it in the privacy of your own hab isn’t anything to be worried over. In fact, you oughta keep it in your hab.” He pulls out a small tool, one to get in-between his transformation seams, and notably does not unplug himself from Drift. “My point is that you’re fine.”

“Of course,” Drift nods. “You– you’ve seen a lot, I’m sure.” He’s just trying to make conversation, trying to distract from literally everything that’s going on right now.

Ratchet smirks. “Yeah, I’ve seen quite a thing or two in my day. You ever seen a mech slice their own spike off?” Drift’s optics widen, and he shakes his head. “Ha! Yeah, pray you don’t end up doing that to yourself, swordsmech.” He smiles. “Oh, Primus. One time, back in university–”

Drift’s fans kick up, then, against his own will. They do so to such an extent that it actually cuts Ratchet off, and the medic notices, and Drift tries to force them back down as fast as he can, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

“Drift,” Ratchet starts, only for Drift to cut him off.

“Please don’t mention them.”

“Drift,” Ratchet continues anyway, “your fans…”

“Please don’t mention them.”

“When you said you were– were getting off,” he continues, leaning back, and resets his vocals, coughing into his fist. “I know there are videos out there, Drift.” He says, quieter than anything else he’s said. “I’m not– I’m not accusing you of anything, it just. Would explain, y’know, why you’ve been so hesitant.”

Drift squirms. “Yeah.”

Ratchet’s optics widen. “Yeah?”

“I– I found some. On the net. I’m sorry, Ratchet.”

The medic’s optics fall half-lidded, and he lets out an exvent. “No, you don’t need to apologize. They’re out there, I don’t mind, and if you do anything with them that’s your own business. I suppose I just– wanted to know.”

Drift, then, raises an optical ridge of his own. “Why did you want to know?”

Ratchet scoffs, looking away. “No reason.”

“Are you embarrassed about it?” Drift asks, and sits up fully. “I can mention it to Magnus, we can have them taken down. I know you said you don’t mind that they’re up, but if it bothers you, we can have them taken down.”

“It’s not that,” Ratchet admits after a moment, turning back to look at Drift. “I’m serious, I don’t mind them. I was just curious.”

“But why?”

“Drift…”

“Please?” Drift asks, “I know– it’s not really my business, I know. But if you need to talk about it you can tell me. I’m not going to, to lose respect for you, or anything like that.” And then, quietly, despite wanting to smack himself in the head about it, “I don’t think I could ever lose respect for you.” Not after what you did for me.

Ratchet’s optics glance around, and he lets out an exvent, shoulders slumping. “Drift, do you think I’m attractive?”

What? “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing nevermind forget about it.”

“No, no,” Drift asks, swinging his legs down, hanging off the berth, so he can look at Ratchet directly. “No, what do you mean? I told you I was getting off to–” to a video of you from university. “–That.”

“Yes, but,” Ratchet asks, and he sounds so flustered, and Drift can feel it, they’re still plugged in together, he can feel that embarrassment. “I mean me, now. Do you think I’m attractive.”

“Yes?” Drift admits, before even thinking about it.

Ratchet’s faceplates become a brighter pink. There’s no doubt about it now, he’s blushing. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“NO,” Ratchet shouts. “No, I mean. It’s. Thank you. I’m– I’m happy about that.”

“You’re happy about it?” Drift asks, and Ratchet looks down, nodding. “You’re happy that I think you’re attractive.” Another nod. “Am I attractive?”

“Drift–”

“You asked me, now I’m asking you,” the swordsmech figures.

It takes Ratchet a moment, but eventually, “Yes, Drift, you’re very attractive.” 

Drift is normal about that.

“WHY did your temperature hike so bad when I said that.” Ratchet moves to cover his faceplates, now, pink covering his cheeks. “Why did that affect you so badly.”

“Sorry, Ratch,” Drift smiles, and he’s almost laughing. He feels lightheaded. “Can’t help it. You have that effect on me.”

“Be professional,” Ratchet hisses, and Drift actually does laugh, then.

“You’re saying that now?” He smiles, and leans back on the berth. “C’mon, doc, you have other patients today, better finish me off. Up. Finish me up.”

“I will finish you off,” Ratchet scoffs, and then there’s another manual override, and– oh, hello, that is Drift’s spike. Huh. Haven’t seen you since five pages ago.

“Ratchet?” Drift asks, sitting upright again, because hello? Hello?

“I told you that having your temperature hiked for too long can do damage,” Ratchet huffs, moving to lean over Drift. “The way I see it, there is a very simple solution to you being so overheated. Right?”

Drift is reeling. “Are you going to suck my spike?”

“Do you want me to?” Ratchet asks, a servo resting on Drift’s thigh.

Drift’s engine revs, which he wasn’t trying to do, but Ratchet shudders in a way that tells him that he liked that sound. “Yeah, fuck yeah, I would like that.” He moves a servo to rest on Ratchet’s helm– not pressing, just resting it there, gently.

Ratchet exvents, and very gently laps at the tip of it, and Drift, unable to help himself, bucks his hips forward. Ratchet chuckles, one servo wrapping around the base, and takes the head into his mouth. Drift lets out a groan, grip on Ratchet’s helm tightening slightly, as the medic bobs up and down, taking more and more of it into his mouth with each. Ratchet hums around it, the sensation causing Drift to groan once again, rolling his hips up into it gently, not wanting to hurt the medic.

Ratchet raises his head off momentarily, putting his servo to work, rubbing up and down. This is going to give Drift fantasy fuel for eons. “You seem to like it,” Ratchet chuckles, and Drift nods, biting his own servo to keep quiet. “Want me to keep going?”

Drift nods. “Ratch, I’m– I’m already not gonna last long.” And he’s not– this has all been, in essence, foreplay to him. He edged himself, ran here, and got teased, and now he’s getting a blowjob about it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Ratchet tells him, and then sinks down again, running his glossa along the underside as he does. Drift whines, and again bucks his hips involuntarily. He’s about to choke out an apology when Ratchet looks up at him, really looks at him, and when he raises up, he does not sink back down. Just staying there, intake rested at the tip of the swordsmech’s spike.

“Ratch,” Drift starts, “do you want me to–”

Ratchet nods (as much as he can while his mouth is full of spike.) Drift resets his vocals, and grips Ratchet’s helm tighter. “You asked for it,” he huffs, and bucks his hips upwards, into the medic’s mouth. And then he does it again. And again.

He’s facefucking Ratchet. The medic’s throat cabling opens up with no trouble, taking everything Drift has to give him, and Ratchet doesn’t even flinch when Drift’s spike housing meets his intake, he doesn’t flinch as Drift abuses that wet heat. He’s facefucking Ratchet.

He’s gonna overload.

“Ratchet,” He gasps, “Ratchet, Ratchet, fuck–” he moans, whines, and speeds up his thrusting, bucking into Ratchet’s intake with everything he has, like this is the only time he’ll get to do it. He hopes it’s not. He hopes he’ll get to do it again, and again, and again. His charge is funneling back and forth, from him, to Ratchet, back to him.

He’s gonna overload.

He yanks Ratchet off of him, holding his helm tightly, keeping the medic– the medic, with a string of fluid hanging from his intake– positioned just above his spike, as he wraps a servo around it, tugging on it. On every downstroke, his hand meets Ratchet’s, the medic’s servo holding him at his base. “Ratchet,” he sighs, “Ratchet–”

“So good,” the medic tells him, his vocals straining, underlined with static. “So sweet, Drift–”

And then he’s overloading, he’s overloading, onto Ratchet’s face–

He’s almost knocked offline from the strength of it. He never thought he’d end up here. He never thought he’d get to do this. He feels like he’s in heaven, like he’s on cloud nine. He crashes down when his optics stop glitching and oh Primus he just overloaded onto Ratchet’s face. 

“Oh, fuck,” Drift exvents, “I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t, uh–”

“Hey,” Ratchet tells him. “You’re good. You’re alright.” He moves a servo to wipe some of the transfluid away from his optics, and then, in a moment which leaves Drift’s engine stalling, he licks the transfluid off of his servo.

“Ratchet–”

“Do you wanna go to Swerve’s?” Ratchet asks, continuing to do so. “After my shift, I mean. We should meet up after this.”

Drift resets his vocals. His fans, after joors of strain, are finally starting to calm down. “Yeah,” he exvents, “yeah, I would like that.”

[kingkatsuki]

PLZ write Kaji making you suck his dick to shut you up?

I might not be strong enough for this tbh. But also giving him head while you’re sucking a lollipop too? So he feels it against his cock? Yeah I uh— I won’t survive this😫

You look better like this— sound better too. Your incessant whining no longer throbbing at his temples as he holds your head steady at the base of your skull. The only sound now echoing around the room was the deliberate gag you made whenever the blunt tip of his cock nudged the back of your throat, gazing up at him through thick lashes as you traced one of the prominent veins on his cock with the tip of your tongue.

“If I’d have known this is all it’d take to shut you up, I woulda done it a long time ago.” Kaji scoffs, his actions betray his mean words as he holds a warm palm against your cheek, cradling your face in his hand as he watches you bob your head along his cock.

“You got no idea how pretty you look like this, do ya?” He grunts, but you have some idea.

Thick globs of pre seep from his tip to soak your tongue in the heady taste of him, enough to have you squeezing your thighs together as you deliberately work to gather more. Prodding the tip of your tongue against his slit as you pull your head back, although Kaji is quick to stop you from moving away completely as he forces your head back down on his cock.

“Fuck.” He bites down on his lower lip hard, peering down at you through half-lidded eyes. As though he’s worried that if he looks for too long he’ll be blowing his load down the back of your throat in an instant, and this will all be over.

You make it difficult to breathe as you press the flat of your tongue against the underside of his cock, cheeks hollowed as you start a hungry pace. The trimmed hairs at his base tickle your nose each time you feel him hit the back of your throat and you do everything you can to please him.

Spit pools at the back of your throat, almost as if you were swirling your tongue around one of his suckers. Feeling the moisture begin to drool down his length and onto your chin and his balls as you took more of him inside you, trying your best to pull more of those pretty, desperate whines from Kaji’s lips.

You could already tell he was close from the way his hips jerked off the seat, pushing himself deeper inside your throat as you fought the urge to gag. Fat tears clumping in your thick lashes as you tried to blink them back to prevent them blurring your vision, wanting to see everything when he finally came undone for you.

“I think I like you better when you’re quiet.” He murmurs, before breaking off into a groan when he feels your gentle fingers coax him towards his release as you stroke a persistent line against his taint. Stealing more of the air from Kaji’s lungs as his head falls back onto the wall behind him, his blunt nails drag against your scalp as heavy balls begin to throb and tighten.

“Oh, fuck I’m gonna—” Kaji whines when he cums, thick hot ropes of cum coat your tongue as his hand wraps around the base of his cock. Jerking himself in a fist as he empties his balls inside your water mouth, riding out the final throes of his climax as his chest heaves softly, “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s funny you prefer me quiet, Ren.” You coo with a smile, reaching up to swipe at the dribble of his cum they escaped your mouth at the side of your lips as you clean it off, “Because I think after that I prefer you loud.”

[judasgot-it]

Tachihara x Reader

Scenario: You get a ride home with Tachihara after attending a company party. On the way back, you decide to attend a shitty pop-up carnival

I had this in my drafts for like over 2 months so I just wanted to like, finally finish it. I think it's silly and idk not the best, still figuring out how to write Tachihara TBH but I think he's a cutie patootie.

Side note this is like 3500 words ?? it's kinda long for tumblr but ima upload it anyway

As the secretary of the Hunting Dogs, you were unfortunately forced to attend their company parties.

If there was someone else in your department, you would have loved to complain to them about how this was 'unfair' and a 'worker's violation' as you were not even being paid to attend these.

Off the clock.

But no one else was dumb enough to take this job, so you were the only person in your department. Seriously, you did the paperwork for 5 people.

The dental was amazing, though.

But that left you as the only 'sane' person forced to witness the antics of the Hunting Dogs while they were drunk. Really, you forced to watch them sober, since you couldn't ever get more than a drink in before the drinking contest began.

You would think Tecchou would be better than this but as of now, he was doing karaoke with the commander while Teruko was laughing at...nothing. She was somehow standing though, which was better than Fukuchi who was shirtless and kneeling on the floor while singing whatever song was playing.

You could barely tell what it was, it might've been Taylor Swift. He seemed...passionate.

If you had to hear whatever sad song it was all night you were going to make your ears bleed.

Although thankfully, you had a backup plan. You couldn't drive - your car was destroyed in a recent bombing attack, so you were lucky that your bed for tonight was your desk.

Which was on the other side of the building, probably far enough away to at least let you sleep quietly.

You could probably get away with it. No one here would notice.

So you took your snacks - which were probably the best thing about these parties, and left for what would be your bedroom

Exiting the room, you could see now that it was quiet and kind of terrifying - a liminal space.

The hallway was now darker than it should have been, settled in an uneasy quiet. The lights above your head had sobered you up quickly, as you walked away from the room, leaving the sounds of laughter and screaming.

You felt something warm pull your shoulder to look behind you. The reaction you had might have been dramatic.

"Are you ok? You aren't scared are you?"

Tachihara was there, smiling as he looked perfectly sober - he didn't even smell of any alcohol, holding a juice box instead.

Now you felt a real fear coursing through your veins. He was going to say something, wasn't he?

"No, I was just heading out."

You weren't shaken easily - unsettled yes, but not truly scared.

"Do you want a ride home?" He said it with a genuine smile, not knowing the genuine terror that was running through your veins right now.

You really did care about Tachihara, as he was probably the most normal member of the Hunting Dogs, but there was one flaw you could not get around.

He drove a motorcycle. You hated motorcycles.

It was nothing short of terrifying every time you saw him riding it, let alone the thought of you getting on it. How could you? It was nothing short of a death trap.

There were no seatbelts either, there was just too much that could possibly kill you.

"No that's ok. I didn't plan on going home anyway, I was going to sleep in my office."

It sounded weird saying it outloud, but you were not going to let him take you on a ride on his deathtrap.

Tachihara just blinked.

"Really? Isn't it closed off still for cleaning?"

Oh. Right.

"Then the lounge. I can manage. Seriously, don't worry about me, just get yourself home, ok? I don't want to be a bother when it's so late."

You tried to sound serious, but Tachihara was still a man that had major flaws. His right now? Being too kind.

A good flaw, but a painful one to fight.

"No it's ok, you aren't a bother. Seriously, your house isn't far off from mine, it'd be very quick I swear."

He was earnest, already leading you in the opposite direction of where you were originally going. You decided not to fight it.

Home was better than a dirty floor anyway, so why not?

You let him guide you to where his vehicle of death was waiting, accepting your fate.

It would be a short ride, so you would just have to suffer through it for only a little bit. That's what you told yourself.

"Oh, Jouno! What are you doing out here?"

Oh god oh please no.

Just at your greatest inconvenience, you found Jouno outside the building, right in front of the parking lot, sitting right at the smoker's bench. His white head of hair peaked from underneath the overhang, nearly impossible to ignore.

"Oh, Tachihara. Are you heading home?"

"Yeah, I was bringing Y/n home too. Do you need a ride? I can't help but notice you're sitting here by yourself..."

Tachihara was too kind. You were already forced to accept his offer, but please, Jouno could take care of himself-

"Tachihara have I ever told you that you're one of the only people I respect on the team?"

Jouno had gotten up, strolling over to where the two of you stood underneath the light. You hated this. Jouno definitely was going to tease you about how scared you were, which was not fun at all.

Also, how were three people going to fit on his bike? It wasn't exactly the biggest, and shoving you between two full-grown men didn't seem ideal.

"Are you sure we're all going to fit? I could just go back inside or call a ride."

You said this in hopes of maybe getting out of it one last time. Jouno just laughed.

"Aw, are you scared?"

Tachihara, the angel that he was, reached over and patted your shoulder.

"You'll have me and Jouno. Know I won't let anything happen to you - swear on it."

"You swear on what?"

Tachihara paused, contemplating his next words.

"Um...my sword."

You raised your eyebrow at him. He patted your shoulder again, trying to put your unease to rest.

"Let's just go."

Jouno walked ahead, towards what will be your sudden demise. You tried to stay calm following behind them as you saw the death trap in waiting.

Tachihara walked towards its side, taking the helmet he had let hang on its handlebar, and gently placed it on top of your head. You didn't bother fighting him, looking to the side as he fiddled with the clasps underneath your chin.

"You probably need this the most. Don't worry though, I'm a safe driver."

"It's not that - what if there's a drunk driver and they hit us? What if I fall off? What if we're all too heavy and we can't turn properly and we crash and explode?"

You felt a hand land on your shoulder as your heart pumped through your ears. Your fear was starting to overwhelm you.

"Don't be a pussy Y/n. Get on, I'd like to go home."

That was really reassuring. Thanks, Jouno.

You straightened up, holding your sandwiches closer to your chest. Tachihara sat on the bike, patting the seat behind him.

You got on, pressing your body behind Tachihara's. You didn't know what to do with your arms, so you just clutched your sandwiches. They were your sense of comfort right now.

"Y/n, you'll fall off if you don't hold onto something."

Oh. With one arm, you grabbed Tachihara's waist, trying your best to keep your head up and look forward.

"Scoot forward."

You felt Jouno sit behind you, pressing you closer against Tachihara. You felt his hand sneak around you, stealing from your sandwich bag. Bastard.

You swatted him away, trying not to fall off. It led to you leaning your full body on Tachihara, who was taking a long time to put his keys in the ignition.

"Did you forget how to drive Tachihara? I'm getting a little cold back here."

Jouno said this with a mouthful of your sandwich. He chastises manners but here he was, a thief and a brat.

"Who said you could have my sandwiches?"

"They aren't yours, know your place Y/n."

"You didn't even stay to eat any of them so shut up-"

The bike started, to Tachihara's joy. You felt the fear course back through your body again, but you didn't get to dwell on it it again as he only kicked back the leg and started bike, not giving you even a chance to adjust yourself.

You tried to hold your head up and stay strong, not show weakness - but the wind picking up around you and all you could do was bury your head behind Tachihara.

You heard Tachihara and Jouno begin a conversation but you didn't even acknowledge it, not even the sandwich stealing anymore as you held onto the man before you as if your life depended on it. Hopefully, his surgeries were enough to protect against your iron grip, as it was the only thing that made you truly feel safe.

The ride wasn't even a full 5 minutes but you felt like you were in hell that whole time. You'd think being pressed against two men like this would be more romantic but you didn't feel that way, instead feeling bile rise up in your throat every time you all turned.

"That stupid carnival is back in the city. I can smell it from all the way over here."

You perked up at that. Jouno had his head up, his hands loosely holding onto your waist - this type of ride really did seem normal to him, as he just looked out somewhere, eating his sandwich.

"Oh that seems fun. Do you wanna go? They stay open pretty late."

Jouno scoffed.

"No, they absolutely reek. I also happen to value my sleep, unlike some people." The people you assumed he was referring to were his teammates, who were most likely either passed out drunk or still singing their godawful karaoke.

"Why don't you and Y/n go, I know you absolutely love carnival rides, don't you Y/n?"

Your heart was speeding up. That was terrifying - you hated the idea of any of that.

"Who says I don't like my sleep either, Jouno?"

"I'd like to go! C'mon, it'd be fun! We can go on rides, maybe we'll even arrest someone!"

Tachihara was being so positive tonight. It was almost suspicious. It was tempting to say yes just because of his attitude alone, but there was that funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of it.

"But what if the ride breaks down and we all get crushed or fall out and die?"

You were simply being realistic.

"I'm a hunting dog, Y/n. I can handle something like that easily. Plus, if that happened Jouno would be there, right?"

"I'm not a chaperone for your little kiddie date. You can handle things by yourselves, the worst is just you guys getting scammed."

Finally, you'd stopped to drop off Jouno. He could've walked this distance, although maybe he had something to gain from the ride. Like your food, which was now all gone.

All you had left was an empty bag, the absolute prick that he was. He also left you a cold back, since you were squished between him and Tachihara during the duration of your ride. From his smirk, as he was walking away, waving goodbye to the two of you, he knew how agitated he had left you.

It made you pull yourself closer to Tachihara, trying to steal his body warmth in order to recoup what had been lost. Tachihara coughed, adjusting himself so the two of you could have more space on the bike.

"So? Let's go to the carnival."

It was a way to break the silence the two of you had fallen into. He said it was a confident smile, as if he practiced this in the mirror twenty times before. You simply nodded, not knowing how to reply.

He revved up the bike, heading in its direction. You didn't know what to say to get out of this, since a part of you did want to go.

It'd be like a fun date, even if you couldn't say that out loud.

"I'm scared of rollercoasters."

You told him honestly. You hoped he wouldn't judge you, seeing as he was a very earnest man.

"I figured. Don't worry, we'll conquer your fear tonight. Exposure therapy does wonders, and plus? I'll be there the entire time, so it's not like you'll be alone."

You said nothing, just holding his waist firmly. This seemed like a better idea than what you had originally planned for tonight, so why not? You could trust Tachihara.

He stopped the bike, in some lot a little walk away from the carnival. You could hear the pop music and screams coming from the place.

Turning towards you, he gave you a warm smile.

"If anything does happen, I'll be sure to protect you, ok?"

You handed him the helmet, giving him a smile. You did appreciate the gesture, as much as it was well-intentioned. That didn't stop you from not wanting to rip your own teeth out of your mouth as you got off the bike and forced yourself the walk towards the carnival, and not away.

"How expensive are these places anyway? I don't actually know if I have my wallet on me."

"Oh don't worry, we aren't paying."

Oh?

Tachihara turned towards you, a strange look on his face. One you would associate with Teruko or Jouno - a grin that typically held ill intentions.

Mischief.

What was this man dragging you into?

Well, turns out - dubiously legal activities.

Being a hunting dog had its perks. For one thing, his government ID assured him discounts everywhere he went. It was great when he went grocery shopping - you would know, you abused Fukuchi's credit card as a perk of your job.

Although telling the ticketing staff that he was 'inspecting' the rides, and would arrest anyone who didn't comply with his orders, hardly counted as getting a 'free' discount.

You were now forced to play along with this. You didn't even know Tachihara had such a cruel side to him, bullying a bunch of carnival workers who just wanted to get a paycheck by making fun of teenagers and out-of-touch men in their 40s.

It was a hard job to have, obviously.

The staff stalked the two of you as you walked in, giving you goosebumps. It didn't help that the two of you were still in your work clothes, really selling the 'government inspection' that the two of you were giving.

Although by the end of the night, you were expecting your clothing to probably need a good dry cleaning.

The fair wasn't bad - but you could smell vomit near some of the rides, and they looked suspiciously rusty. Clearly, this place was in tip-top shape. You just had to convince yourself that the Ferris wheel wasn't making suspicious creaking sounds every time it started up again.

You clearly were just a bit paranoid.

"So what should we ride first? I'm thinking we start small and then build our way up."

Tachihara had his hands on his hips, looking around for the best ride to start. He was being nice at least, giving you the illusion of choice now that you've gotten this far.

You were stuck. It didn't matter what you did, you were the idiot that agreed.

"I'm ok with that. I don't think the hand gliders look that bad, they seem pretty tame."

It also featured a seatbelt. And a big, nice, safety bar.

The best part? It was a two-seated ride. So if something happened on that ride, you knew that Tachihara would be there with you.

Tachihara smiled, as clearly, this would be a good night for him.

-

The night was going about as great as you expected it to. Although, you could even say a little better, even.

If this were a date, you might have kissed Tachihara by the end of it. You sure as hell owed him something at the very least, as he had now been your human cushion on several rides, preventing you from being crushed against the greasy metal as they began.

It was a good thing he was a hunting dog. Your body weight against his was nothing to him, although he still felt like complaining once and a while about how much pain you put his ribs in.

As if you were the one with the bright idea to go here.

If he died because you crushed him to death, it was entirely his fault and his fault alone.

"You know what we need to do?"

You watched as he pointed at the ferris wheel - one that loomed over the carnival, due to it's sheer height. Seriously, how tall was that thing?

"I mean...yeah."

There were no arguments against him here. You've gone on every other ride already - you've even ridden the carousel 3 times. Tachihara used the excuse that you were 'inspecting the ride' for imperfections.

You were starting to think he was serious at some point, when he spent 5 minutes grilling a poor fair worker about the importance of safety and on how rusty their bolts were.

There was no time to dwell on that though - Tachihara was smiling as he dragged you to the last stop at the carnival of doom.

"I heard some kid saying that from the top they could see the entire city. That sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"

He was smiling ear to ear.

You couldn't deny that offer when he looked like that.

So with your head in your heart, you let yourself be dragged through the motions, letting it drop to your stomach as you watched the city fall below you as your body raised to the sky.

You tried to stay at ease even as you were slowly raised higher and higher into the sky, the cart you were sat in shaking back and forth more than you were comfortable with.

It made you scoot closer to Tachihara, squeezing him as if he were your lifeline. He might as well be, since his body would survive a fall at this height while yours would splatter.

"Look! You can see headquarters over there."

He was pointing outward, towards a rather dark spot of the city. But it was visible, which to you felt amazing.

Also terrifying.

You clutched his arm tighter. As insurance.

He was also incredibly warm - it was cold so high up, and unfortunately, your work uniform did not account for this. You were practically trying to melt into him due to how cold you were, but you still had some pride left. You would suffer a little, having your exposed skin go numb from the cold.

"Hey, Y/n. I wanna tell you something."

"Are you going to kiss me?"

It was the perfect moment for it, really. You couldn't blame him. Everything was screaming that this was a "how I met your mother" moment anyway.

"What? Sorry. Um. No. Just-"

Tachihara looked at you, red in the face. He pushed you into his chest, holding you tight. If you squeaked, that was between you, him and the ferris wheel.

"I think I like you."

You blinked. Your hands were awkwardly held up around Tachihara, not knowing where to go. You could feel him awkwardly fidgeting with the fabric on your shoulders in your silence, as you tried to figure out a way to respond.

The ferris wheel creaked in the silence, keeping the two of you alone up top, watching the city.

"Um. I like you too, Tachihara."

You put your hands on his waist, feeling just below his ribcage. He was skinny for a guy, but you could still feel his strength.

"But how much?"

"How much?"

"How much do you like me?"

You huffed, gripping his uniform shirt and pulling him away. His eyes were almost wet with worry as he looked at you, trying to discern what you meant by your words. Fucking idiot.

"Enough to deal with this. And enough to want to kiss you."

You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking him dead in his honey eyes. His gaze was dead set, looking right at you, not even at the city that was behind you.

"Kiss me. I'm not asking again."

You closed your eyes and waited until you felt his cold lips press against yours, finally obliging your order. It was all enough to distract you from how your stomach dropped at the thought of being so high up in the air, as now your stomach was dropping at his hands reaching down to touch your waist, his knees knocking against yours as he tried to pull you closer.