#you’re expected to ignore them (unless they play a part in a joke briefly)

[sweetsmollthings]

So like, something I’ve thought about if shrinking machines were common…sometimes theater has roles meant for children, but maybe you don’t want to use child labor. Just shrink an actor to kid size for the show and grow them back to normal afterwards.

Of course, if the machine were to malfunction one day and had to get repaired, leaving you stuck at kid size (or perhaps even smaller) until it’s fixed…..well that would be a problem, wouldn’t it…

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nine. Minecraft Dating 101

warnings: swearing, mostly super freaking fluffy but some oopsies at the end (which is the barely-there angst that i mentioned before!!), pet names?? if that bothers you??? (like...... one or both of them might use baby.........) word count: 5.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: HEHEH SORRY ITS SO LONG SORRY hope you guys like it!!!! hope it lives up to your standards of minecraft dates lol also thank you guys all for all your suggestions!!! i loved all of them so much!!!! i would have added every idea except this was already 5k words so its much less “flirting” and more so “oh gosh im so nervous what am i supposed to do” from both of them so hehe i think thats more endearing anyway

**********

The familiar sound of a FaceTime call connecting rang in Y/n's ears and she held her phone up to her face. "Hi, Karl," she sighed.

"Y/N!!" he said with a cackle. "ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR DATE?!"

"Shut up, I'm doing this for you."

"I already gave you the tour though so really you could back out. You're choosing to stay." His voice was teasing and giddy. "Why's that, hmm?"

Heat rose instantly to Y/n's face. "Because I'm a woman of my word?"

"OkaAaAyy," he sang. "Or because you liiiiikeee himmm."

"Shhhut up, Karl. No, I don't."

"Suuuure."

"Is this why you called me?"

He giggled. "Yeah, but—"

Y/n disconnected the call and set her phone down with a small laugh and a shake of her head.

With her stream started and her chat greeted, the donation limit raised to $100 (both because she didn't want to be flooded with questions on the date and because she didn't want people to donate their hard-earned money), Y/n logged onto Dream's SMP and found the voice call Dream was in, George's name right under his.

After she clicked it to join, a small gasp emitted from her headphones before she heard Dream mutter something. "Get out, get out, leave."

George's voice was normal. "But I wanna—"

"GEORGE!" Dream yelled, making Y/n giggle.

"Fine!" George yelled back. "Have fun you two," he sang like Karl did before a sound from Discord told them that he left.

It was silent for a second before, "Hi."

"Hi." She giggled. "What was that about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Just some last minute, uh, setting up."

She hummed, amused at the sound of his frantic voice.

"So, um... are you ready for our date?"

"I don't even know where you are. I'm still in my house."

"Knock, knock," he said with a laugh. Y/n turned to see green peeking through the cutouts on her oak door and she laughed.

She ran to the door and opened it for him, revealing Dream in a slightly altered version of his Minecraft skin. He looked the same, except the white blob appeared to be wearing a necktie of some sort. "You look ridiculous," she admitted with a smile. "Wait, is this a fancy date? Should I change my skin?"

"It's not fancy, I just wanted to look my best for the prettiest girl in the world."

"Ohmygosh," she muttered to herself, hoping that writing off his charming words and actions as annoying would make her face not heat up as much. So far, it hadn't worked. Two minutes in and she was already blushing like a schoolgirl whose crush asked her to play tag at recess. "So, I'm not underdressed?"

"No, you're always perfect."

She didn't comment, opting for an eye-roll instead. Truthfully, she wanted to flirt back with him, try to make his heart beat fast like hers already was, but she was worried her words wouldn't come off joking and that the true intention would be obvious, that he'd be able to breeze right past the jovial tone and hear the sincerity in her words. Wait, true intention? What was her true intention? Her true intention should obviously be to just joke around and have some fun, but deep down she knew the motivation for teasing him came from somewhere different, somewhere more meaningful.

She wanted to tease him because she wanted to be the one to make him blush, to make him trip over his words and not know what to do with his hands.

Why? Well, she was still figuring that out.

"If you're ready, follow me, ma'am."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked as she followed his character down prime path.

"Hmmm..." he mused. "A secret, obviously."

"Obviously," she scoffed. She noticed that he was several blocks ahead of her and she smiled to herself. "Hey, Dream?"

"Hm?" he asked, spinning to face her as he ran backward.

"I don't know how many dates you've been on, but usually people walk together. You know, gives them an excuse to maybe hold hands or at least enjoy each other's company?" She made sure her voice had just the right balance of teasing and seriousness, curious as to how he would respond.

"I, uh... oh."

"Unless you want me to just meet you there. I mean, you're practically running away from me."

"I'm just excited!" he excused, stopping briefly so she could catch up with him.

"But look at how many beautiful things there around us to look at while we get to where we're going!" she told him. "Well, maybe not that," she said with a laugh as she punched her fist towards Tommy's dirt house. "But other things."

Dream laughed and continued to walk next to her like she requested, pausing if he ever got too far ahead. "How can I look at all those when the most beautiful thing is walking right next to me?"

She's never rolled her eyes so hard in her life. "Shut up," she mumbled as she punched him.

"OW! BUG!"

"That was supposed to be a pat on the arm but Minecraft only has one level of hitting and it's a punch. Sorry."

Dream wheezed briefly before containing his laughter. "This way," he instructed, getting off the path and starting into the woods.

"Oh, really you're trying to kill me. That's why you didn't want me to wear anything nice. Didn't want me to ruin any of my fancy stuff."

"Foiled my plans," he joked lightly. "Okay but really, um, I was thinking—well, so you already have a house but I was thinking we could build one together. Or build something, I don't know. But you're really good at building and I know you really enjoy it so I thought maybe you could show—like, teach me and then later I'll teach you something and then we can have a little picnic dinner."

Y/n smiled at her nervousness. "Hey, that actually sounds really fun!"

"What? What do you mean actually?" He laughed. "What, did you expect me to plan something boring?"

She laughed over his dramatic pouting. "No, but I mean, I didn't know what to expect," she said shyly. "I do have to say, though, I'm not sure what you plan on teaching me. I'm pretty much a master at all possible Minecraft skills, so..."

"Oh, really?" he taunted. "Everything?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her confidence wavering at his smooth voice.

"We'll see about that..."

"Unless you mean you're gonna teach me how to code Minecraft. That's a Minecraft skill I will admit I know nothing about."

"No, no, nothing like that," he said with a laugh.

"Good, save the programming talk for later."

"For laaater, hmmm?" he sang flirtatiously.

"Oh my gosh," she said through a laugh. "You would think that's what I meant."

"Hey, you're the one that said you think it's cute when I talk about coding. Maybe you're into that."

"I was saying it's sweet hearing you talk about stuff you like, you nerd. Why did you immediately think—what, is your idea of dirty talk talking about... like... computer viruses?"

"WhAT?"

"Hey girl, lemme clean out your motherboard," she mocked in a deep voice. "You overclock my processor. Lemme program your, uh—uh...hAHA, nevermind, ew, no."

"BUG?! WHAAAT? What is wrong with you?" His gasps for breath between wheezes made her laugh with him. "Don't ever talk like that again, pleASE."

"I won't, I won't, I'm sorry. Oh my gosh."

"Is that your idea of flirting? You are bad!"

"No, no, no!" She laughed. "I was making fun of you. No, I'm actually really good."

She couldn't stop giggling to herself for a few minutes, embarrassed but also proud of the reaction she got from Dream. She loved hearing him laugh as if he would never stop, it made her heart so happy to hear, especially when she was the one who caused it.

Though she feared her horrible pickup lines, if you could even call them that, were already clipped, ready to be used against her for the rest of her life. Worth it. Probably.

They approached a cleared-out area in the woods and Dream stopped and turned to Y/n. "So, we're here. What should we build?"

"Oh, so now I have to plan? Wow, you are so underprepared," she joked.

"What, no! I originally... I wanted to build a, like, a house together because I didn't— I forgot you made your—your house already and—but since you already have one—"

"We can still build a house," she interrupted with a soft voice. Him fumbling over his words was very endearing but also very confusing. How serious was he taking this bit? Or was he... actually nervous? She was actually nervous but she had reasons to be: a huge live audience to entertain and not ignore, and the weird staticky, itchy feeling in her tummy every time Dream spoke to her. Both valid reasons to be nervous. What was his excuse?

"Really? You wanna build a home together?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at his wording and she hummed. "Mhm. You can be my secret lover I hide in my vacation home. Like a second life kinda deal."

He scoffed. "Oh, now I'm just your side piece, Bug?"

"Nah, you're my main bitch, baby. I just wanna hide you away to keep you for myself because I'm selfish."

There was silence on his end for a few moments, making Y/n's face practically catch fire as she thought about her words. Why did she say that?? How can he flirt all the time but as soon as she says something: dead silence.

"Well.... shhhhhit," he finally mumbled definitively.

"You wanted me to flirt with you, Dream. You literally asked me too!" She laughed, trying to cover up her embarrassment. It had been less than 20 minutes and she already made a fool of herself.

"I did, I did, I just—wow. Come on, that was... I didn't expect you to go from never flirting to calling me baby!"

"Too much?" she bit her lip as she waited for him to explain if it was a good or bad thing.

He paused again. "....no."

She laughed loudly, pulling her hoodie collar up to her face in an attempt to rid herself of the giddiness and heat on her face. Like anyone could see anyway.

"So, a house?"

"A house."

"What kind of house do you think we should build together, Dream?"

"Maybe...." he thought as he ran around the area. "Maybe, like, a log cabin? Since we're in a forest. It's fitting..."

"Very true, very true..." she thought. "I was thinking a castle was more suited for you, king, but a cabin works too."

"Bug!" he yelled, laughter bubbling up in his voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"What?" she said defensively, giggling.

"You're a handful today," he groaned under his breath and she smiled. Though his words said one thing, Y/n could tell he was enjoying her energy.

"So, a dinky, old cabin, or what?"

"Whatever you want to build," he sighed.

"You always this agreeable?"

"Only to you."

"Well, I honestly don't have much practice with building cabins and since I want to show off my skills, I mean, that's the whole point of this, right? For me to impress you with my skills?"

Dream laughed so she continued.

"I think we should build a treehouse."

"A treehouse?"

"Mhm. What do you think? I make a pretty bomb treehouse."

"That sounds awesome!" he agreed. "Oh, and it could go from, like, one tree to another and, like, connect with a bridge! Like, the living room on one and the bedroom on another."

"Yeah, exactly! Okay, it's settled."

"What do we need? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm thinking.... we use cobblestone?"

Dead silent. Literally no noise until a few moments later, ".......Bug. This might be a deal-breaker."

"I'm joooking! You think I'd build something out of cobblestone? Who am I, Tommy? No, what's your favorite wood?"

"Dark oak."

"GOOD. Me too. So.... we need dark oak. Or, wait! Okay, hear me out."

"I'm hearing..." Dream prompted as he pressed A and D on his keyboard back and forth, earning a giggle from Y/n. He character was bouncing left and right is excitement.

"Dark oak planks..." she started.

"Mhm."

"Stone bricks..."

"Go on."

"And green wool for accents."

"Well, now you're just pandering."

"No!" she laughed. "Not, like, lime wool. Green wool. It's close to you but not as... obnoxiously blinding."

"I trust your vision. I'll go get materials."

"Perfect, you're the best, Dweam."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled before laughing. "You pick out a tree you think would be best for the main part."

40 minutes later, they were nowhere near being done. Y/n had shown him how to make a good house layout after he placed the floor in the shape of a square. She had yelled at him for it first, of course. They also had the frame of the walls and one bridge but nothing on the other side of said bridge. Not wanting the stream to last six hours since this was only the first part of the date, Y/n made a suggestion.

"What if...."

"What if what?" Dream asked, pausing to look at her character, who had stopped fixing his mistakes. "Did I mess something up?"

"No, I was just thinking. What if we make this the whole house and do a little garden on the other side of the bridge? Or like a little cute thing."

"A little cute thing?" Dream laughed.

"You know, like a thing," she said, knowing she hadn't clarified anything. "I forgot this is only date one, you can't read my mind yet."

"Oh, so there are gonna be future dates? I thought this was just to pay off your debt?"

She paused, playing with her hoodie strings between her left hand. "Well, I guess we'll see."

Dream laughed. "So, what little cute thing did you want to make?"

"We could put a bench facing the sunset and have some potted flowers and hang lanterns and stuff."

"Oh, like a romantic spot?"

"I guess if you wanna think of it like that."

"Sounds cute," he said. "So, we have to change the layout in here then?"

"Nah, I mean, we can just not add a kitchen, we obviously don't need one anyway."

"True. Then all we need is to put our bed down, right?"

"Beds," Y/n corrected.

"Well, when they're together it looks like one big bed."

"Who said we're putting out beds together?"

"Buuuuggg..." he whined. "Come on... lemme put my bed next to yours."

She giggled again. What was with all the giggling, sheesh. "No. There's plenty of space, put it somewhere else." She placed her white bed down in the corner and went across the bridge to bring her idea to life, or, to Minecraft.

It only took about ten minutes and she finished when Dream spoke again. "I think I'm done."

"I am too! Let's take one final look around." She went back inside and immediately noticed his bed right next to hers. She stared at his character and he laughed.

"Whaaat?" he asked shyly and she just sighed, letting it happen. They took a look around and agreed that it was basically the best treehouse in the entire universe, both in Minecraft and real life.

"Bug, you're so good at building," Dream complimented as he ran around the house. "What's your favorite part?"

"Ummm...." She looked around before deciding on the bridge. "I like how you made the bridge. And I like the little touches you added to it. It's nice."

"Thanks! I think the 'little cute thing' you did is the best part."

"Shut up, I can't stand you," she scoffed. "But thanks."

"Hey, Bug?" Dream asked, leading her back into the house. He faced the two beds placed together and she prepared herself for the worst joke of all time. "Is this where all the programming talk happens?"

"I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that! Shut up!" She punched Dream as he laughed loudly and she couldn't stop smiling. "You're such a nerd. You're so annoying."

"OH! I have an idea, wait here."

***

It had been a solid eight and a half minutes of Y/n waiting for Dream and he showed no signs of returning. He was silent too, so she resorted to saying random things to get him to crack.

"When will my husband return from war?" she joked, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

There was a small suppressed laugh from his mic, but still no words.

"Sometimes I think I can still hear him laughing at me."

He must have gotten reeeaaalll close to his mic, because his next words, the first ones he had spoken in almost ten minutes, were whispered but she felt like he was in her ear. "I'll be home soon, baby."

Once again, she was so glad her chat couldn't see her because she literally shivered and her face was so warm she felt like she was glowing.

For the first time all stream, her eyes betrayed her and she looked at her chat as she pulled her hoodie collar up to her face.

user18: BUGSY BEIN REEEAL QUIET

user4: i think i just passed out

user11: wHAT ON EARTH DREAM ADKXKH

user7: BUGSY ON GOD BE REAL WITH US WTF IS GOING ON RN

user2: hey bestie i cant do this rn

user9: they can't talk to each other like that and say they're just friends pleASE

Also for the first time all stream, someone dared to donate at her limit (which, again, was ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS).

karakatara donated $100 I had to donate bc I just HAD to tell you how cute you and dream are! honestly my favorite couple ever and I was just wondering how long you've been dating??? love you and your videos!!!!!

It was $100. She had to answer it. Meaning, she had to use words after Dream said that like that and she wasn't sure that was physically possible right now.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Dream taunted.

"Wha—what, are you—you stream watching, you weirdo?" she forced out. "Why?"

"I wanted to read your chat, they're really funny."

"I haven't been reading it."

"What, why? They've been so funny this whole time."

"I've been too scared to."

"Too scared? Of what?"

Of the jokes that she wanted to be real? Of seeing something so cute only to break her heart when she remembers it's all a joke? Of seeing someone hate her for being so close to Dream? Many things.

"Of seeing something... that boosts your ego."

"What? Oh, come on. Hey, answer the dono. Someone gave you their hard earned money for that."

"Yeah, wait, chat, I had the limit that high so you DON'T donate! Why on earth would you—"

"You're avoiding the question."

"We aren't actually dating! Not actually a couple!" she said with a laugh, though something in her heart was very much against laughing at that fact. "Obviously not."

"Well, it's only the first date, so, we'll see I guess, but..."

"I cannot stand you. Thank you so much for the dono, though, Karakatara. You're insane for... yeah. Thank you so much." She turned her attention back to Dream. "Actually though are you ever coming back?"

"Yeah, what, I'm almost there. I see the you staring out the window. ."

When he got inside, he dropped a blue cornflower for Y/n and stepped back. "Okay, now, give that to me."

She followed, not understanding. "For you, Dream." She dropped the flower.

"Aw, Bug! That's so kind! Aw! Thank you! Here's a flower for you, too!" He dropped her a red poppy and then put two item frames on the wall above their beds. He put the blue cornflower above his bed and she followed by putting the red one above hers. "Now that's my favorite part of the house."

"You didn't want to use the real ones? What, did you lose my flower or something?"

"Hell no!" he defended loudly. "No, I just don't want someone to steal that one. It's in my enderchest for safe-keeping."

He said it so casually like it was no big deal, but her heart soared. She too had his flower in her enderchest.

"This," she said dramatically with a sigh, "is now a treehome."

***

"I already told you I'm the best PVP player out there."

"Bug, honey, I've seen you play Bedwars. You're trash."

"Hey!" Hehe, honey. Shut up brain.

"But that's okay! I'm here to teach you."

Y/n's character stood across a makeshift battlefield from Dream's, an axe in hand and armor that was definitely donated by DreamXD on her body. "This is kinda sexist of you. Assuming I know how to name a cute house but not fight."

"Oh no, that's not—crap. Bug, I'm only basing this off of your streams, which I watch all the time—"

Once again, he said something so casual and yet it still made her heart skip three beats and once again, she grabbed the collar of her hoodie and pulled it up to hide her face. This thing had to be stretched by now from how often it was yanked on in this stream alone.

"—and don't get me wrong, you're great! But you're also good at a lot of stuff and—"

"Dream!" she giggled out. "I'm teasing. I admit you're much better than me."

"I wouldn't say much better but... it's the only thing I could possibly teach you anything about because you're just so good at Minecraft." His tone was sarcastic at this point but she knew he was meaning what he said.

"Whatever. Come on, Dream, show me how it's done."

He actually had a lot of very useful tips that Y/n otherwise would have never thought about. I guess when you tryhard Minecraft, she thought, you learn a thing or two about pvp. It was a complete joke, but she still kept it to herself.

"I could basically beat anyone now," she said confidently.

"Yeah, basically. Except maybe Technoblade."

"Nah, even him."

"Let's see how good you really are. To the death."

"What?" She laughed. "You're gonna try to kill me on our date?"

"Yeah, scared?" Seconds later, a creeper exploded near Dream and he screeched, jumping back. Y/n lost it. She laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.

"Dr-Dream!" She laughed. "What the hell was that?"

"It scared me!" he argued. "Here, I'll protect you," he offered, running past her and killing a skeleton that was shooting towards her.

"I don't need protecting, especially from you! Besides, if you're trying to kill me, you'd let the mobs get me."

"No," he decided. "No one's allowed to kill my Bug."

She was literally going to explode. "Wh—"

"Only I get to."

"Dream!" she scoffed, running to kill the skeleton first. She succeeded and he pouted.

"Hey—I did more damage than you, you just had the final hit."

"Really? Cause to me it looks like I'm your knight in shining armor."

"Nuh-uh," he spat.

"Dream. F5 right now, you're covered in arrows."

There was a pause. "Oh whatever." He hit her once and that's all it took for them to start fighting, throwing jokes and taunts at each other the whole time, eventually resulting in a satisfying win for her.

Dream was slain by Bugsy

"WHAT?! HOW?"

<Tubbo> i thogt you were on a date <Ranboo> well definitley not anymore <Ranboo> is that canon <JackManifoldTV> WOMEN

"What was that about you being better than me?" Y/n teased.

"Oh, come ON! I still had damage from the skeleton, and besides, I taught you everything you know!"

"That just makes you a very good teacher, Dream," she said sincerely and he paused, probably expecting her to insult him instead of compliment him.

"Yeah, suck up now that you've murdered me."

***

They were finally at their final stop, three hours into the stream. Not too bad on time, though this was probably the longest Minecraft date in the history of Minecraft dates. Also the best, but maybe Y/n was biased.

There was a huge tree, obviously built instead of naturally generated, with lanterns hanging down and lighting areas of the dark world around them. Under that was a checkered pattern of carpet, a single chest in the center with a potted plant sitting next to it.

"The carpet is supposed to look like a, uh, what's it called... picnic blanket?" Dream explained as they approached the scene, clearly not happy with how it turned out. "It looks weird. Nothing compared to the treehouse you built."

"We built," she corrected. "And this looks awesome, Dream," Y/n complimented. "It's is also my favorite colors."

"Yeah, I had some help from Karl on that one."

She leaned back in her chair in real life and pressed her hands to her face. Oh, it was so unfair how cute he was when he was shy like this. She glanced at chat, which only made her face go from the temperature of molten lava to basically the sun. She was going to explode.

She hummed, a little giggle coming out as well. "That's cute."

She sat (crouched) on the picnic blanket (piece of carpet) while Dream put a disc in the jukebox off to the side.

"Is that a Tommy disc?" she giggled and Dream laughed.

"No, no, no, don't worry. There shouldn't be any continuations of wars interrupting our date."

"Shouldn't be," she emphasized, noticing someone approaching them from the distance.

Dream was about to speak when Quackity reached them and quickly joined the voice channel.

"Oh no," Dream sighed. "We've come so far."

"AYYEEE WHAT'S GOING ON, MAN?!" Quackity yelled in his Mexican Dream voice, his voice bubbling with laughter. "IS THIS A DATE OR SOMETHING, MAN?"

"Quackity, go AWAY!" Dream ordered, punching the character who had stripped to his underwear. "YOU'RE INDECENT! THERE IS A LADY HERE!"

Y/n laughed, enjoying the scene of fancy Dream hitting naked Quackity away from their picnic dinner.

"I'm your waiter, I'm your waiter!" Quackity said in his normal voice, still laughing. "DREAM! WILL YOU STO— QUIT HITTING ME!"

This had turned chaotic very quickly.

"We don't need a waiter," Dream informed him.

"Then I'm the singing gram you ordered." He started singing a song and Dream groaned. "HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT'S IT LIKE IN NEW YORK CITY—"

"No! You're being a clout chaser, go away!"

"I'm honestly impressed we made it this far without anyone coming into the voice channel," Y/n admitted.

"I paid them," Dream joked.

"You did not!" Karl's voice suddenly came through and Y/n laughed. "We were all just being polite and staying away but we're getting bored! We've been so patient!"

"Yeah, hurry up! We wanna play!!!" Sapnap whined. "Dream, it's not fair for you to steal Bugsy from us for so long."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed with a laugh as Dream laughed along.

"Just ten minutes! Ten more minutes!" Dream bargained but none of them would have it. "Just so I can say goodbye!"

"No!" George insisted. "Right now!"

"Look, wait, wait, hold on—"

<Sapnap joined the game> <GeorgeNotFound joined the game> <KarlJacobs joined the game>

"—hold ON!" Dream begged, watching as the three boys ran and joined Quackity by the picnic blanket.

Y/n could not stop laughing at all the avatars around them. The date had been so peaceful and cute but all good things must come to a chaotic end.

"Wait, come on, Karl, Karl, Karl," Dream said quickly. "Come here. Bug, just a sec, please. Stay right there."

"Okay," she agreed, curious to see his plan.

Karl followed him and of course Sapnap couldn't help but also join them.

"Okay," Dream whispered loudly, clearly wanting everyone to hear his offer. He crouched and the other two copied. "Just give me ten minutes—"

"Ten?" Sapnap asked loudly.

"Shhh!!! Yes, ten minutes, to say goodbye and, you know, end the date."

There was a long, thick pause. "What exactly are your intentions with Bugsy Games," Karl asked seriously, matching Dream's whisper.

"Well, I wanna make sure she gets home safe, you know, so I'm gonna drop her off and, I don't know, see if maybe.... maybe she'll give me a hug?"

Karl and Sapnap both gasped dramatically and Y/n giggled, sparing a glance at her chat who were all freaking out.

"What the hell?" Quackity said while laughing. He and George were still standing near Y/n so they were just watching the goons with her.

"Bugsy is not that kind of girl!" Sapnap protested. "You think she's just gonna give you a hug?"

"Sapnap! Do you not know how to whisper???"

George let a loud laugh slip before slapping his hand over his mouth, which his mic picked up.

"Okay, Dream, wait, so you're gonna try to... hug her?" Karl clarified. "She won't even let me hug her. Good luck."

"Well, I'm not going to force her into anything but, I don't know, she said something about holding my hand earlier so I just thought maybe there's a possibility—"

"WHAT?" Karl yelled before going back to the whisper. "Okay, okay, don't panic, but that's huge. Dadnap, a word?"

He and Sapnap broke off from Dream and formed their own huddle, except their whispers were incoherent mumblings that weren't even English.

"Oh my gosh," Y/n groaned loudly, an unmistakable laugh behind her words.

"Okay," Sapnap said, rejoining Dream. "We'll give you five minutes but if you take any longer, we're barging in and killing you."

"Yes, sir!" Dream said. "Thank you, sirs."

"Mhm. Okay, break!"

They all uncrouched in sync before Dream ran back to Y/n.

"How did it go?" she asked as if she didn't hear the entire conversation.

"Bad news," he started. "Your dad's want you home."

"Shame, I was quite enjoying my time."

Dream slowly turned towards the boys as if to glare at them for ending the date before turning back to her. "Then, maybe, I don't know, we could do this again sometime?"

"I.... think I'd like that," she said slowly, trying to tease him.

He giggled and told her he was going to drop her off at her house, even though when the date was over, they were all probably gonna mess around together anyway so there was no point in them leaving the group. But it was the thought that counted.

He ended up taking her back to the treehouse, which warmed her heart. She also noticed when they faced each other at front of the door, she could see the four other boys watching them.

"Goodnight, my sweet Bug," he said poshly.

"Goodnight, Dream." He turned away but she stopped him. "Wait!" She moved to his side and made a loud, MUAH, sound before stepping back in front of him. "A kiss on the cheek," she clarified, not wanting him to think she gave him a real kiss.

"Cute," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean to say it out loud. "Night night." He turned away and ran down to the others, screaming the whole way. "GUYS, DID YOU SEE THAT? BUG GAVE ME A KISS ON THE CHEEK!! OMG DID YOU SEE, DID YOU SEE?"

Chat was gonna have a field day with that. Actually, with a lot of things that had happened. Oh, she could see the clips and edits now.... oh boy.

**********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

**********

Taglist: OPEN (at the time) (bold = couldnt tag)

@theboywhocriedlupin​ @hydrate-tion​ @loraleiix​ @tinaswagbd​ @charsdummb​​ @smileyyuta​​ @1ghoste1​ @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge​ @queestionmark​ @carnations-red​ @letsloveimagines​ @the-fictionwriters-hairdo​ @boiled-onionrings​ @a-cryptic​ @fee-btheweeb​ @erwinss​ @just-a-stan​ @axths​ @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad​ @sometimeseverythingsucks​ @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn​ @millavalntyne​ @automaticcomputerpaper​ @nikkineeky​ @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ @sprucekot​ @bellomi-clarke​ @possiblyanxioushuman​ @jabby16​ @mae-musicbitch​ @hungoverhellhound​ @dreamyteam​ @kuroo-icedtea​ @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot​ @fangeekkk​ @haseulreturns​ @queenwastaken​ @peteysgf​ @losingvienna​ @bi-narystars​ @zero-nightshade​ @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime​ @youhyakuya​ @danny-devitowo​ @clubfairy​ @loser-keiji​ @oi-itsemily​ @alm334​ @the-katastrophe​ @wreny24​ @applecakeradio @unicornblood4ever @brendalopez99​ @spacecluster​ @justonemoreepisode​ @strawbrinkofdeath​ @aikochan4859​ @chaotic-tieflings​ @dreamsofficialwife​ @where-thesundoesntshine​ @jamiealenaa​ @unstableye​ @kageyamama-hinatatata​​ @officiallyunofficialperson​​ @secretly-a-weeb​​ @localsimp​​ @loxbbg​​ @rhymeorreason1​​

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered. 

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart. 

Part One   -  Part Two 

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish. 

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked. 

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet. 

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand. 

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you. 

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile. 

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones. 

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.  

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

“¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you. 

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious. 

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language. 

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!” 

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...” 

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin’ on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim. 

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!” 

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....” 

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life. 

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold. 

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room.  The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia. 

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used. 

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.  

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted.  Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform. 

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line. 

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English.  You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly.  He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.  

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair. 

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?”  She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister. 

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.  

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room. 

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual. 

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way. 

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause. 

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it.  He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody.  Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors. 

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours. 

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt. 

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA.  As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil. 

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted. 

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. . 

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.” 

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you. 

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise. 

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch. 

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression. 

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes.  “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes. 

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.” 

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?” 

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission. 

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one  hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue. 

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared.  Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh. 

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck. 

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met.  He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away. 

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you. 

“So, what’d I miss?”  Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy. 

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment. 

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier. 

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning. 

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober. 

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything. 

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it.  The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand.  “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?”

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it.  It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”  

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it. 

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier. 

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth. 

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally,  your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi.  “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated. 

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!” 

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.” 

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face. 

“Thankyou, Javi.” 

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him. 

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.”  After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye. 

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it. 

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth. 

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born. 

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned. 

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still. 

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form. 

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered. 

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever. 

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

                                                       “You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat. 

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger. 

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter. 

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing. 

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers. 

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence. 

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you. 

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy. 

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you. 

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit.  The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair. 

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes.  You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole. 

“So fucking tight,  Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard. 

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on. 

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth. 

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh. 

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious. 

 His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies. 

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss.  He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own. 

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard. 

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock. 

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly. 

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him. 

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs. 

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths. 

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.  

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you. 

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway  @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all. 

[ask-the-riders]

Forging A Bond

Welp,, I wrote this a little while ago, but thanks to my ADD, I kept getting distracted and forgetting to do anything with it ^^"

In summary, Retribution had caught the attention of a stranger, who in turn had decided to follow him for a bit. He tries to ignore them, but inevitably, they wind up making their presence known and introducing themselves, completely catching him by surprise

Retribution let out a soft breath, keeping his gaze forward as he walked. He'd been able to sense the feelings of a second person for a while now. Although he found it odd, he detected no malicious intent, so he attempted to ignore them. Dried, dead leaves crunched under his boots as he kept walking, fighting the urge to glance back over his shoulder. Reaching his destination, he lowered himself onto one knee, delicately placing a small bouquet of flowers in front of a headstone. The rider remained silent, part of his cloak fluttering in the breeze as he reached out to gingerly trace his fingers over the name on the stone. Remembering the human who was buried there, he frowned, furrowing his brow bones and murmuring, "If only I could've been there for you in your final moments..." 

He could sense the approaching soul behind him, already aware that it belonged to the person who'd followed him here. Not even remotely surprised as they called out to him, "Well, it looks like someone beat me here." At the unfamiliar voice, he arched a brow bone, "I'm afraid so. What business do you have here?" They hummed, drawing nearer, "I'm merely paying my respects to the fallen children here. And you?" Retribution stood, straightening his clothes, "I'm also paying my respects... I lost a dear friend quite a while ago, so I'm visiting her grave, specifically." The stranger gave off a pulse of sympathy and made a sound in understanding, "Ah. I'm sorry for your loss... I can't imagine the way you must feel." 

Ret watched curiously as a figure passed by him, moving to the next row of graves. Despite the long coat they wore and the hood hiding their face, he immediately noticed the simple, yet elegant gown they were wearing, along with bones as white as fresh snow. With their back to him, he watched them curiously, silent for a moment before speaking again, "So... Any particular reason why you followed me here?" The stranger momentarily tensed up, "...I should've known that you would've caught on. You are a version of Nightmare, so it's in your nature to be incredibly observant." Retribution stiffened at hearing his old name, his brow bones furrowing, "Ok, who are you, and why were you following me?" The figure let out a deep sigh, pushing their hood back off of their head to reveal a simple crown that sat atop their skull. Turning to face Retribution, they proceeded to unbutton their coat, pulling part of it aside to reveal a family crest stitched into the fabric over their chest. 

The rider's sockets widened as he recognized it, and blatantly ignoring his scowl, the figure before him gave a small curtsey, her violet and grey eye lights meeting his cyan ones, "I apologize for the delayed introduction. I am Nyx, daughter of Nightmare, and the current queen of the kingdom of Regoria." Retribution stared at her for a moment in silence as he tried to process the situation; His original counterpart was a father, huh?... Would that mean that, in a way, he was a father, too? As if Nyx could tell what he was thinking, she hummed, "Yes, it's true. The 'walking tar pit,' as some call him, has children. There's myself, and I have a brother, as well." 

He blinked in surprise; It wasn't just the one kid, it was two now? Who in their right mind would willingly sleep with his counterpart?? Twice, at that.

Ret cleared his throat, "That's... Interesting. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting to learn anything like this today. That still doesn't explain why you were following me though, your Highness." Nyx rolled her eye lights and couldn't help but smile slightly, "At ease, Retribution. I wasn't following you with the intention of causing you any problems or harm. I was curious about you and wondered what you were doing here, that's all." The rider made a face, still at a loss, "I'd like to ask how you know my name, but I feel like I should be more concerned about why you were curious about me." The princess laughed softly, "I can't blame you for being wary of me, but I'm serious. I don't mean you any harm, and I'm here of my own accord. My curiosity stems from the things I've read about you in my father's journal." 

He narrowed his eyes a bit in suspicion, "Oh, really? What kinds of things has he written about me?" Nyx shrugged her shoulders, remaining completely at ease, "It's nothing incriminating, don't worry. He seems to be logging the differences between the two of you and jotting down notes about your interactions, for the most part. I can see some of the obvious differences between you already, but I'm intrigued. I'd like to observe with my own eyes." The rider arched a brow bone, "Tell me what differences you think you see." The princess made her way over to a bench and sat down, tilting her head as she looked at him, "Well, there's the obvious lack of tentacles and goop. Your eyes are cyan by default while his are violet, and you appear ever so slightly shorter than him." 

He made a sound in acknowledgment, beginning to approach her. As he stopped in front of the bench and clasped his hands behind his back, she smiled again, amusement bleeding into her tone, "While you appear quite different from him physically, you're also very similar, at the same time." Retribution scoffed, "You must be joking. I'm nothing like him, and that's a fact." Nyx leaned back on her hands, "I'm not. The way you hold yourself and that stance you're in are quite familiar. I've seen them countless times from my father. I'm getting the impression that you're stubborn and full of denial, as well." Ret was briefly taken aback, glancing away from her. Reading him with ease, she straightened, lightly patting the seat beside her, "Come, sit with me. My schedule for today is clear and I'm available to talk as long as you want, if you'd be open to it. I know that by default, you probably don't give others your trust very easily, and I understand. I would like to learn more about you, and in turn, I believe I can provide you with answers for whatever questions are floating around in that head of yours." 

Retribution hesitated a few seconds before letting out a deep sigh, moving to sit beside her. Nyx's brow bones furrowed as she looked at him, slowly lifting a hand and beginning to reach for his face. She stopped just short of actually touching him, clearing her throat, "May I?" The rider stared at her hand, considering the options; He could either allow it, with the worst case scenario being an attack, or he could tell her no, and the worst case scenario would again, be an attack. 

He weighed the pros and cons, and with a sigh, he gave a small nod, "Go ahead." The princess offered him a tiny smile, delicately tracing her fingertips over the faint hints of cracks that framed one of his sockets. She leaned a bit closer, her eyes squinting as she took in the way the cracks had healed. They were smooth and so light that she probably wouldn't have even seen them if he wasn't so close to her. Tilting her head, her brow bones furrowed as she murmured, "You were hurt, quite some time ago... I can see the cracks, and they look like they've healed pretty well." He glanced away from her, beginning to sense the concern and sympathy she felt, "They have, and I'm glad they healed this way, honestly. It's better than them healing wrong and leaving me looking like some freakshow." 

Nyx withdrew her hands after a few more seconds had passed, watching him curiously; If he was anything like her father when it came to the way he dealt with his emotions, she'd be able to read him like a book. Right now, he was trying to maintain his proud, stubborn front, but in the way he avoided her gaze, his discomfort was as clear as day. Whether it was anxiety, him being secretive, or a lack of self esteem, she wasn't sure, but at the very least, she could tell that it had nothing to do with him being deceitful. She offered him a slight smile, breaking the formality in an effort to provide some reassurance, "Nah, I don't think you'd look like a freakshow. You might look pretty badass with some cracks and scars, actually." 

He arched a brow bone, glancing at her and clearing his throat, his tone holding a very faint hint of amusement, "I appreciate the thought. Though, I'm surprised your father lets you talk that way." Nyx couldn't help but smile slightly again, lightly nudging him with her shoulder, "Are you talking about the cursing, or the fact that I gave a compliment?" The rider hummed, "Both." She laughed softly, the sound catching Ret off guard. He watched her, blinking as he noticed the softness of her features; She definitely looked like a princess, and she spoke like one too, for the most part. As his eye lights caught sight of the bandages wrapped around her hands and the barely visible scratches and scuff marks that decorated her arms, he began to wonder if she also behaved as such.

He was pulled from his thoughts as she let out a sigh in contentment, "Compliments, I could see your reasoning for. After all, he doesn't seem like the type that'd give any form of praise, does he? The cursing, however... He's not a fan of it, but he doesn't complain unless it becomes excessive. I wonder, do you have any children that you allow to curse?" Retribution's mind briefly wandered, settling on a memory of Pestilence and Abrael playing with dirt, and he shook his head, "I have no children of my own. The closest I've got would be my nephew and my idiot friends." The princess blinked, appearing momentarily surprised, "Oh, I see. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I assumed that you must have at least one child by now." He tilted his head, "Nope. Just because your father and I share a similar origin story and are, in a sense, the same person, I'm afraid we live two completely different lives. He's got you and your brother, a league of bad guys that he's assembled, and he's still pretty focused on killing Dream, last time I checked. Meanwhile, I work in a team with other monsters, though not as their leader. I have no children, and instead of a brother, I have a sister." 

Nyx's eyes widened the smallest bit in surprise and she mirrored him, tilting her head as well, "You're not the leader of your team, you have no children, and your Dream is a girl?" Well aware of her surprise and increasing interest, he made a sound in confirmation, "That's correct. The only thing with my Dream is that she doesn't go by that name anymore. Rather than that, her name is Conquest." The princess seemed to perk up, "Oh! I think I know her, actually!" Retribution's brow bones furrowed and a look of confusion crossed his face, "How so?" She straightened her back, her posturing becoming proud, "She knows me as Lady Night, and is a follower of mine. I give her odd jobs every so often, but her primary task is to protect the children who have no one else they can count on, who makes them feel safe and loved. Between the work she does for Death and the work she does for me, she's being paid quite the pretty penny." 

The rider stared at her in disbelief, and at his expression, she did her best not to giggle. He was silent for a few seconds before speaking again, "...You're being serious right now?" She nodded, "Of course I am." Retribution let out a long, low whistle, "Well color me shocked. You're still so young, but you already rule a kingdom and have your own little following that, based on what Conquest's told me, seems like it's bordering on you being viewed as some ethereal, otherworldly being. I bet your father's proud of you for achieving so much." Nyx shrugged her shoulders, smiling slightly, "I believe he is, yes... He's just not very good at expressing it, some days. He doesn't quite understand the concept of protecting others without any form of personal gain. To him, I'd be better off at the castle, helping him plot my uncle's murder."

Ret took a moment to debate what he should say next, his brow bones knit. Deciding to wing it and hope for the best, he hummed, "Ah, I see... He and I are technically the same person, even though we're very different. I'm not sure if it would mean anything to you, but if he's having a hard time expressing how proud he is of you, then I'll do it for him." The princess's eyes widened slightly, and she remained quiet as he pressed on, "The multiverse works in the strangest of ways, so I'm honestly not sure if you'd count as my child or not. Regardless of that, I have no shame in admitting that I'm proud of you for all that you've done, and I think you're doing what's right. Your choices might not always make sense to him, but at the very least, they make sense to me." 

The princess stared at him in surprise, taking a moment to collect herself as her cheekbones flushed violet and she glanced away, "...I officially met you for the first time, not even a full hour ago, and you're already giving me some version of the 'if you were my child' speech?" Retribution's cheekbones also became flushed and he shifted awkwardly, also glancing away from her, "If that's how you'd like to look at it, I guess. Forgive me for being so straightforward, Nyx. I'm not normally like this, and I genuinely have no idea what my problem is right now." She let out a soft sigh, "It's alright. I'm not normally like this either. I think I might have a theory though, as to what the reason for this sudden, out of character attitude change is." 

He tilted his head, "What do you think it could be?" The princess lifted a hand, resting it over her sternum, "Maybe it's a bit of a leap, but it's possible that it has something to do with our souls. If yours is similar enough to my father's, then it could be attempting to forge a connection of some sort with mine." The rider made a face, considering it for a moment - she was right, it was a pretty big thing to assume - but at the same time, it also made sense, in a way. Fighting the urge to hide in his cloak, he spoke again, his voice a bit softer than it'd previously been, "I suppose that makes sense... Have you seen your father's soul before, Nyx?" She gave a slow nod, glancing up to sheepishly meet his gaze, "Yes, I have... It's been a while, but when I was a child, I used to have these awful nightmares. He'd calm me down by holding me in his arms and materializing his soul, while his tentacles kind of acted like a shield."

Retribution listened quietly and offered no complaint as she continued speaking, a small smile on her face as she recalled the instances when her father had used his soul to comfort her, "I remember it being warm, and how he sounded when he either told me a story or began to hum this one song, in an effort to calm me down... His soul's corrupted by excess negativity, and it has been for a while, but there were these thin slivers of it that weren't concealed by the goop, and the prettiest purple light would shine through. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to cast a glow across my room, and it made me feel safe, somehow." Although he was having a hard time picturing his counterpart ever being that soft with anyone, he chose not to voice his thoughts; The look on Nyx's face was peaceful and happy, and he decided that he preferred it over one that was upset and insulted.

His cheekbones dusted a slightly brighter shade of cyan and he looked away from her, allowing his soul to materialize and float just outside his chest, "Was it anything like this?" Her eye lights locked on his soul and her violet blush became a tiny bit brighter as well. Taking in the apple shaped soul before her that was only partially coated by corruption, she couldn't help but stare, marveling at it's soft purple luminescence as she breathed out, "Yes... It's nearly identical. The only difference is that yours isn't as corrupted, and therefore it shines a little brighter." He made a sound in understanding, pushing his soul back into his chest, "I see... I won't ask to see your soul because I know how personal that can be, but I'm curious. Is yours at all similar to mine and his?" 

She shrugged her shoulders, refusing to look at him as her own soul began to materialize. Ret watched as it took on a similar shape, but arched a brow bone in confusion as it became a vibrant orange, small yellow speckles dotted across its surface. Before he had the chance to ask about the color, she spoke, "...It's weird, I know. I'm a monster, but I have human soul traits. You can thank my mother for that one." The rider blinked in confusion, tilting his head, "Your mother's a human? What about that brother you mentioned?" Nyx made a face, "She was, yes... For whatever reason though, she was murdered when my brother, Kazimir, and I were still babies. Kazimir himself is also a monster, but he has a human soul trait, as well. Mine was originally just bravery, but it developed the justice trait after a while because of my line of work, and Kazimir has the integrity trait. It's possible that he could've developed a secondary one like me, but I haven't asked about it." 

He watched Nyx push her soul back into her chest and sighed, offering her a small, reassuring smile, "Well that's pretty neat. I didn't think it was weird either, by the way. It wasn't what I was expecting, but there's nothing wrong with the way it is. If you ask me, I think it suits you." Nyx nearly gaped at him and he rolled his eye lights in amusement; Never in a million years did he think that this was what he'd be doing today. He didn't know that his counterpart had children, and he would've never guessed that he'd get to meet either of them, much less have such an oddly pleasant conversation. He didn't think he'd ever allow anyone other than Famine and Conquest to see his soul, and while he did realize the risks that came with doing such a thing, he didn't feel that Nyx was a threat. 

Nyx, despite being his miscreant counterpart's daughter, felt familiar, somehow. It was like he'd met her somewhere before, and even stranger yet, it felt like it would be safe to trust her. There was an odd warmth in his chest that he had mixed feelings about, and he was struggling to fully grasp what it meant. On one hand, it reminded him of the warmth he felt when he was with his partner, but on the other, it also reminded him of the warmth he felt when he spent time with his nephew, as well. He'd literally met Nyx maybe an hour or so ago, but his soul seemed to be making an attempt to form a bond with hers already, and he bit back a scoff at how ridiculous this entire situation was becoming. 

It was strange and downright unnatural, but he didn't feel the need to complain very much. Nyx looked completely content, and as long as she wasn't attacking him, then he supposed that was what mattered most.

[bestintheparsec]

The Same Coin - Part 1

Prologue | Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: Thank y’all so much for the nice comments on this new series! This picks up shortly after the prologue. I had to hold back a lot for this chapter because pining is not allowed yet - patience😌 I hope you enjoy, and as always feedback is welcome!❤️

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: some mentions of violence, angst (but not the Yearning kind yet)

You’ve just finished getting ready to start the day when you hear three loud knocks at your door. Hurriedly buttoning up your blouse, you go answer it and find Steve standing outside with his hands on his hips.

“Peña’s out of the hospital and back home now,” he informs you.

You briefly remember the scene from a couple days ago. He’d been fine, of course, just bleeding out and unable to stand. A local helped you call an ambulance while you got Peña upright and put pressure to the wound. Much like he always did, he spent a bit of time swearing under his breath when he claimed you were making too much of a fuss over it. You had to drive the Jeep back, so he went off to the hospital on his own once the paramedics arrived. You made sure he was going to be okay before you left him, and Steve went to visit him so you assumed he was recovering.

“Okay,” you comment. This couldn’t wait? “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be off work and on crutches for a few weeks,” he answers. He looks down at the floor before looking back up at you.

“What is it?” you ask suspiciously.

“They...put us in charge of watching over him until he’s back at work. Mostly you.” He mutters the last part, and you raise your brows.

“What? Why me?” you ask, confused.

“You’re the one who lives next door to him,” Steve answers, matter-of-factly. He and Connie live a couple floors above you, so logistically he’s right. But that doesn’t mean you want to be his personal nurse.

“Yeah, but—” you start to say, a little louder.

“It’ll be fine,” he insists, patting you on the shoulder. “You just need to check in every now and then and make sure he’s getting some food and water in him.”

Steve grabs your hand and slips a key into it. “I’ll come by too, but you’ll be able to hear if he falls or something at night, right?”

At that, you can’t help but chuckle dryly. Yeah, you can hear plenty, alright.

~

After work, you drive back home and feel the tension leave your muscles once you step into the apartment complex. Work was uneventful, without any new leads or intel. Mostly it was just you and Steve poring over mindless paperwork. As expected, you’d gotten quite the scolding from the colonel and Messina today. This was nothing new; not with Peña for a partner. But it was the first time he’d gotten himself hurt in one of his schemes, which didn’t look good on either of your parts. You didn’t feel like hashing it out with them, so you took your warning and left, opting to chide Peña on it on your own time.

Steve had gone out with Connie after leaving today, so it’s on you to check on Peña first. The heels on your shoes clack as you make your way down the dim hallway to his door. He should still be fresh off the IV painkillers from the hospital, so he probably won’t be awake to answer. You pull out the key Steve gave you and unlock it, the cool air greeting you as you enter his flat.

It’s not your first time in his apartment. You and Steve have often had late nights here, working on some new lead after hours. Only a lamp's faded light is on, but you hear rustling inside.

“Peña,” you call out. You find him in the kitchen, trying to heat something up in the microwave while leaning on his crutches. His hair is tousled and messy, and he's in a t-shirt and loose pants—a surprising sight and a stark contrast from his usual attire. He greets you with only a glance. You almost ask how he’s feeling but the cold gesture makes you decide against doing so.

You hold up the paper bag in your hand. “Steve picked up your painkillers,” you tell him, putting it on the counter.

“No need to knock before you enter,” he remarks sarcastically, pulling his food out of the microwave.

You roll your eyes, figuring he’d be in a bad mood. “You’re supposed to be in bed. Doctor’s orders. And you’re welcome,” you counter. How does he manage to be insufferable even when fully medicated?

“You really always go by-the-book, don’t you?” he clips, the sound of his crutches clanking on the tile as he walks over to you. Jesus, Javier thinks to himself. He already has to deal with you at work, and now he has to deal with this in his own home, too?

“The hole in your leg says otherwise, although I wouldn’t say that’s my fault,” you answer tersely.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Messina seems to have made you and Murphy my punishment,” he grumbles.

You purse your lips. “Believe me, this thrills me, too, Peña. But I can’t have you collapsing on me anymore,” you say, which catches his eye. “I’ll get in trouble again,” you add, and he smirks at that.

“Ever the caring partner,” he huffs, though he’s mildly amused. He looks you up and down for the first time since you came in. He notices how you’re playing with the fabric of your shirt; another habit you have, typically when frustrated. Javier hates that he knows this, attributing it to how much all three of you are around each other. You see each other around the clock, so it’s impossible not to pick up on the little things. For a moment he ponders what you might have picked up about him—not that what you think of him matters.

You ignore the sarcasm in his voice, eyeing the box of bandages and bottles of antiseptic on the counter. In all honesty, you’re not sure how well he’s dressing his own wounds; he probably gives them a quick swipe and calls it a day. “Do you...need help changing your bandages? I know how to clean them—”

“No,” he cuts you off.

“Okay, well if you need me to get anything—”

“I’m fine,” he interrupts again. “So unless you want to help me shower…” he says, sneering at the face you make.

“Yeah, I’m not sure even Steve will help you with that,” you wave a hand dismissively.

“Anyways, these meds should knock you out for a while,” you continue, changing the topic. “Which means I can get some quiet on the other side of your wall, for once.” You're only partially joking, but Javier doesn’t miss the mild embarrassment in your eyes. He chuckles without humor, but doesn’t respond.

A moment passes before you speak again and readjust the bag on your shoulder. “Get some rest, Peña,” you instruct. With that, you head back out the door as he watches you leave.

He sighs deeply, running a free hand through his hair. Why can't Murphy be the one who lives next door?

~

You continue to alternate check-ins with Steve daily, always trying to come during evenings, when Peña’s more likely to be awake. The visits are brief and somewhat civil, although they usually involve you nagging him about one thing or another and getting snippy comments in response. Really, you know he’s a grown man and all, but even when injured he’s not terribly careful.

It’s not his fault his place is getting messier—he’s not fully mobile—but his flat is usually decently tidy, most likely for his “guests”. Now the place is covered in half-empty glasses and bottles of liquor, along with random things strewn haphazardly on the floor. You’ve told him often that the papers spilling across the floor are a safety hazard for him, but he brushes you off every time.

“You’re not on the job right now, you don’t need to be an asshole,” you tell him.

“You’re not at the office now either, lighten up a little,” he rebuffs.

Javier swears that if he hears you remind him to drink more water or be more careful one more time, he’s going to lose it. He tells you as much, but you’re never able to get through to each other. It’s always been like this as partners; of course it’s no different when you’re off the clock.

You seem to be under the impression that he’s impulsive; maybe he is, and maybe he’s not proud of everything he’s ever done. But Escobar plays the game according to his own rules—playing it safe only puts more people in harm’s way. Sooner or later you might understand, but until then he’s not going to wait around worrying until you do.

~

One night, you’re met with the sight of him, shirtless, sitting on the couch. He’s smoking a cigarette and barely looks up as you enter and walk towards him.

“Steve and Connie went grocery shopping and wanted me to bring you some stuff,” you tell him as you unload the plastic bags you’re carrying. “Looks like you’ve got some snacks and instant dinners to hold you over.”

“Thanks,” Peña answers, and you're almost taken aback by the tiny bit of politeness.

He picks up the prescription bottle on the coffee table and uncaps it, shaking a pill out onto his hand before picking up his glass.

You look across the room at him and frown. “Are you taking your meds with alcohol?” you ask, probably louder than necessary.

You walk over and forcibly remove the glass in his hand, replacing it with the water bottle from your bag. He looks up at you, annoyed at your snatching of his drink. “Jesus, Peña, don’t you know anything? Are you trying to get yourself back into the hospital?”

He responds by muttering something under his breath before throwing the pill back and downing it with the water.

“You know, me and Steve would have to come over a lot less if you took better care of yourself.”

“I don’t need you mother-henning me in the first place,” he retorts. “It’s a fucking leg wound, not something that’s gonna kill me.”

“That’s exactly what I thought, too,” you snap back. “Unfortunately for both of us, our bosses think otherwise.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for this,” he tells you, shaking his head. God, you’re infuriating.

“No? Neither did I,” you quip. “Fuck, Peña, do you not—I'm just trying to help.”

He exhales and puts the cigarette to his lips again, leaning back against the couch. You dig around in your bag for a granola bar and shove it in his direction.

“Do yourself a favor and eat something, or those meds aren’t going to sit right.” He groans but takes it, and you turn on your heels to leave.

Except, Javier never misses anything; especially not the way the thin fabric of your sleeve slides up on your skin as you hand it to him, revealing a sliver of something white on your arm.

He abruptly grabs your wrist, gently but it still takes you by surprise. “Wait,” he mutters in a low voice, stopping you mid-step. He turns your arm over, not making eye contact as he pushes the loose fabric of your sweater upwards, revealing the large white bandages that are covering the back of your arm, near your elbow. He can’t see the damage underneath, but his mouth presses into a hard line.

You bite the inside of your cheek as he examines it for a few seconds before you pull your arm away from his hand.

“I thought you and Murphy haven’t been in the field recently,” he whispers, his tone suddenly much softer than it was moments earlier.

“We haven’t,” you reply quietly. You know he’s not going to drop it by the way he’s looking at you. “It’s...from the broken glass. When the sicarios shot at us in the car,” you shrug.

“Just because I was in a hospital, you didn’t think to mention you were injured?” he sounds offended, but there’s a different feeling cutting through the air, one that you can’t place your finger on.

It really isn’t a big deal, just a few superficial gashes that will heal easily—you’ve had much worse, working in the field. You hadn’t even meant to hide it, but the bandages aren’t a pretty sight and your work attire often consists of three-quarter sleeve blouses, or your favorite cardigan.

“Peña, it’s literally a few scratches. Hardly newsworthy,” you answer, though your own voice is calm now, too.

He has an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him simply, and you mean it. “And I’m not the one who got a bullet put into my leg,” you continue, offering the smallest of smiles.

Javier glances at the ground before looking back up at you, but you’ve already turned to leave.

Hunting Escobar meant you were all in life-or-death situations regularly, one way or another. But for an unknown reason he suddenly feels a bit heavier, and he doesn’t like it.

~

The radio’s playing as Javier sits on the floor, tossing away some bottles of liquor that are crowding his coffee table. Christ, your nagging was starting to get to him. He wishes the stations would play something besides the latest news on Escobar. If there’s anything he hates about not being able to work, it’s that he has too much free time when he’s home alone. That, and the fact that Escobar and his sicarios are still out there, and there’s currently not a damn thing he can do about it.

He’s been on crutches for a few weeks, and is now used to your coming and going. He watches as you drop some more groceries off in the kitchen, but notices you’re quieter than usual tonight. It’s not a proper check-in from you unless you’ve reprimanded him about not taking his meds, or skipping meals, or something else. Not that he’s complaining about a break from the incessant nagging, but his attention is drawn to the more pronounced lines that have appeared under your eyes lately. It doesn’t take long for him to drop his gaze, but he knows there must’ve been things happening at work that you haven’t mentioned. Or it might have just been one of those nights; he knows those too well. He definitely knows better than to ask about it.

“Wait,” he calls as you leave, and you take your hand off the doorknob before turning to him.

“Any new leads?” he asks. You almost have this look of pity for him in your eyes, which he hates.

You shake your head. “Messina’s running some intel by the ambassador tomorrow. If all goes well, we’ll be back to business soon.”

He nods. “Thanks,” he says curtly.

Your lips press together into a tense smile before opening the door and shutting it quietly behind you.

Javier rubs the back of his neck, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment. He exhales quietly; there’s nothing except the sounds of the radio show and the ticking clock on the wall. What annoys him most of all is how dangerous it is when he has this much time to think.

~

It’s the weekend, so you make plans to get breakfast at your favorite spot around the corner. The few people you know prefer to sleep in on Saturdays, so you’re on your own. It’s early, but your stomach still grumbles with hunger. This makes you think of what Steve said about making sure Peña kept himself fed—you know very well that on many nights, whiskey is the only thing anyone is able to keep down. For a second you hope he hasn’t been drowning his boredom with alcohol anymore—not that it’s your problem.

At any rate, it’s probably too early to check on him, so you head out and plan to do it later.

~

Javier wakes up after an unrestful sleep, still groggy, and shuffles into the kitchen to find something to eat. He walks over to the cupboard to find a bowl, propping himself up on one leg. How much longer with these damn crutches? he grumbles to himself.

He takes the crutches out from under his arms, resting them against the wall and limping over to the sink. Pain sears up his leg and he hisses, but he hates needing the physical support—or any other support, for that matter. He’s about to fill a pot with water when he sees a package on the counter, wrapped in tin foil.

He grabs it, realizing it’s a large, warm plate of food with a note on top. Dinner. Eat, cabrón, it says in your scribbled handwriting.

For the first time since the incident, his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. You really are infuriating, he thinks. But somehow, it’s almost endearing.

~

It’s raining outside tonight, a light shower but it seems relentless. You hop over a puddle of water as you step into your complex and close your umbrella. It’s Steve’s turn to check on Peña, so you can go straight to your flat, much to your relief.

Your clothes are wet, so the cold air conditioning gives you goosebumps as you open the door. Turning on a single light in the foyer, you pry your wet shoes off, followed by the damp cardigan you have on. You’re not dry yet, but you almost feel a little better. Tonight calls for a hot shower, but you don’t have the energy for it, so you make your way to the bedroom.

You don’t bother turning on the lights as you strip yourself of the day’s burdens and change into something cleaner and lighter. If only your mind worked that way, too. As you crawl into bed, you feel as though you could just sink right in and disappear. The soft covers don’t do much to comfort you, and you’re not quite ready to lie down yet so you sit with your back against the headrest, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion. The rain continues to fall outside your window.

Images from today fill your mind. It was another day in the field, one you were supposed to spend tracking down a low-tier sicario. Instead, you found a bloody crime scene Escobar decided to leave behind to prove a point. You had no doubt Steve was at a bar now, doing what he could to drown out the sight.

It’s not something you’ll ever get used to. Despite yourself, you think of more mundane things—your many meals eaten alone, the quiet drives home with only your mind keeping you company. Somehow, it makes things easier for you this way. You don’t want to imagine the possibilities otherwise.  It’s for the best, you tell yourself on nights like this—but repeating it doesn’t make it any easier to believe.

When your head finally hits the pillow and you pull the blanket up to your chin, you can’t help but allow yourself to wonder what it would be like if you didn’t have to face all of this on your own. It’s a common thing for you; empty thoughts in a dark and empty room, before fatigue finally overpowers your conscience.

On the other side of your thin bedroom walls, Javier lights another cigarette, deciding whether he wants to turn up the volume on the TV or turn it off entirely.

He’d already heard what happened from Steve. No, he wasn’t at the scene. But he should’ve been, instead of being stuck at home and helpless. When he’s out in the field, he likes to think he’s able to stomach it all better, running on pure adrenaline. He runs his hand along his jaw, willing the anger and tension to leave him. He wasn’t even part of this mission, nor did he make any of the calls, but somehow he knows it’s going to be another long night. He’s had worse days where he can’t take it anymore, finding comfort only in the arms of some woman he doesn’t know. Even then, it’s more of a distraction than anything else.

The guilt never leaves him—it’s a weight he deserves to carry. Every decision he makes affects something, or someone else. Whether he’s ever made a good choice, he’s not sure. But when he looks at the bandages covering the wound in his leg, tracing the edges with his finger, he knows he’s tired of dragging other people down with him.

 ~

Translations:

Cabrón = asshole

~

Series tags: @mytinybaguette​ @mrpascals​ @dindjarindiaries​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @pascalesque​ @lady-sigyn​ @bel-13  @positivelife3000​ @larakasser @buckstaposition​ @watsonwise​ @irishleesh93 @gigilame​ @lostingoogletranslate @yabby-girl​ 

Perm tags: @immundusspiritu​ @aeryntheofficial​ @i-like-those-odds​ @heyy-honeyy @hail-doodles​ @hiscyarika​ @taman-a​ @electricprincess888​ @spacegayofficial​ @myrin1234​ @aloneontheoutside​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @ah-callie​ @fleurdemiel145​ @katialvi​ @murdermewithbooks​ @pisss-offf-ghostt​ @kayebede​ @lamnothome​ @fan-g0rl​ @lokiaddicted​ @mrsdaamneron​ @poedaneron​ @wolfshifter4life​ @rociomz​ @opheliaelysia​ @dyn-djarin​ @randomness501​ @hayley-the-comet​ @mrsparknuts​ @kyo101​ @blue-tidal-wave​ @palalover​ @forever-rogue​ @adikaofmandalore​

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

If you wait to talk to Jeongguk about it instead...

Word Count: 3,181

Disclaimers: This is part (48) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Check at the end for glossary of Korean terms*

Start here:

“Mwoh?” he asks, wide-eyed.

“Never mind,” you mutter, unsure what to say. Jimin continues to stare at you, then understanding slowly dawns in his eyes and his mouth twists as he tries not to smile.

“Wait a minute...You and JK are banging each other aren’t you?” he realises. You avoid his eyes and his question, which confirms the answer for him. He hits the table with his open palm and giggles. “Oh my God - you totally are!”

“Okay, okay! Keep it down or Namjoon will have my head,” you hiss.

“But...I mean he already knows, right? Isn’t that why he’s mad?” Jimin asks, obviously confused. You grimace in acknowledgement of what he’s saying.

“Ne, but he probably doesn’t want the whole thing to escalate. Especially as they’re asking Kookie to do one of those stupid fake couple game shows right now,” you elaborate, unable to keep the venom out of your tone. Jimin’s eyes widen.

“He wouldn’t,” he negates you immediately. “He’s...well...no, never mind,” he imitates your reticence and looks down at his hands.

“Come on Jimin-ssi. You can’t possibly expect me not to insist you finish that sentence,” you worry, biting your lip. “Why wouldn’t he? He’s what? My God, is he okay?!” You jump to the worst possible conclusions straight away.

“No, he’s fine!” Jimin assures you, hurriedly. “I just can’t say anything else though,” he persists. “It wouldn’t be fair on him.”

“Ugh! Jimin!” you growl, but you let it go, aware he’s trying to do the right thing. You’re both attempting to return the conversation to less fraught territory when the door to the little room that serves as an office bangs open. Jeongguk exits and stamps across to his bedroom, looking mutinous, whereupon he messes around with the door rather fretfully before disappearing from view. He looks suspiciously like he’s been crying but, even if he has, they’re probably just tears of frustration you reason. Still, Jimin’s words play over in your head as you ponder. A few moments later, Bang PD Nim and Namjoon emerge, both looking tired.

“I thought you had told him,” the older man queries, looking puzzled. Namjoon sighs deeply, and raises his palms in a gesture that indicates his own bemusement.

“I did tell him. Late last night, I admit but he seemed fine with it. Or at least he didn’t raise any concerns or objections in my presence,” Bangtan’s leader responds.

“Something I should know then?” You address your question to them both, struggling to keep your expression neutral as you’re trying to look professional but also desperate to go see if your baby is okay without making it obvious to Hitman Bang. Namjoon’s jaw sets but he manages to speak calmly:

“Maybe go check on him,” he suggests, giving you the excuse you need. You nod, bow your head to wait for Bang PD Nim’s permission, and then make your escape. You tap timidly on Jeongguk’s door, with them all watching you, but there’s no reply.

“Kookie?” you try. “It’s your noona. Can I come in?” There is a pause, then the door slides open a crack and you slip inside. You catch a glimpse of Namjoon’s warning look before Jeongguk slides the door across, trapping you both in his room.

He looks miserable, but at least he seems to have composed himself, though you can see his eyes are still a little red.

“What happened in there?” you ask him softly. He doesn’t answer, but grabs your face in his hands, and kisses you insistently, transferring his attention to your jawline and neck when you’re too taken aback to respond.

“Kiss me, please,” he begs. “You’re not mad, are you? Kiss me!”

“Jeongguk, stop,” you whisper, urgently. “I’m not mad: why would I be mad? But they’re practically listening at the door - they’ll figure it out and then we’re both screwed! Jebal…hajima!” You push him, very gently, away from you. He does, but he looks a bit cut. You stroke his cheek with the back of your fingers. “I’m sorry, cheonsa,” you tell him. “But I’ll come see you later, when it’s not so dangerous. Now - are you going to tell me what happened in there to make you so frustrated?” you persist. He shrugs, pouting.

“I just don’t want to do it. It’s so…[he struggles for the English word, trying to help you understand] contrived?” he tries. You nod, smiling despite yourself.

“Yeah. Contrived,” you reassure him on his word choice. “But why would that upset you?” you press. He shrugs.

“Who says I’m upset?” he asks.

“Well I mean. You look like you’ve been…you look upset,” you prompt him gently. He looks shy, like he knows what you’re implying but doesn’t want to own it. He takes your hand from where it’s fallen to rest against his neck, and kisses your fingertips before placing it back on his cheek. You melt at his sweetness, but you’re still hesitant to tell him you’ve fallen for him hook, line and sinker, especially if it’s really just the contrivance that’s bothering him when it’s the whole set-up that’s bothering you.

“I thought. I mean I was worried they’d kind of – you know – that they’d be making a joke of me and hoping I’d do something dumb on the show cos I’m young and not…you know…super-smart like Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung,” he murmurs, self-conscious.

“I really don’t think they would,” you console him, but you feel terrible, as you’d never realised he was still so self-conscious, considering he plays up for the cameras so much and, as Hobi puts it, is “shameless” with his bids for attention these days.

“I’m okay now though,” he reassures you, seemingly reading your mind.

“Well then I’d better go tell them you’re okay,” you apologise. “Unless you want to come out and tell them yourself?” He shakes his head.

“Come back after, okay?” he requests, uncharacteristically meek.

“Okay,” you agree. He smiles and lies back on his bed, with his eyes shut.

“Well?” Hitman Bang prompts you, when you return.

“He’s upset because he thinks it’s contrived,” you explain, leaving aside his other concerns to explain to Namjoon later, if appropriate. Bang PD Nim looks bemused, while Namjoon remains justifiably skeptical.

“What fanservice isn’t contrived? he interjects.

“Something’s obviously bothering him,” the BigHit CEO muses, looking to you and Namjoon for confirmation. Namjoon looks uneasy. You look at the floor. “RM - What do you know that we don’t?” Bang PD Nim catches on to the exchange, but misses the implications.

“Nothing. I mean - he can be pretty temperamental sometimes. And he - out of all of us - is infuriatingly hot-blooded. Even Hoseok wants to strangle him some days, and he’s an angel when it comes to patience. Maybe we just timed it badly,” Namjoon, replies, choosing, for some reason, to save you and Jeongguk’s asses with his convincing rhetoric. He shoots you a look, letting you know that you owe him big time.

“What did he really say?” Namjoon asks you, much more gently, once you’ve all said your goodbyes and you and he are left alone in the main room.

“That’s exactly what he said,” you confirm, looking Namjoon straight in the eyes.

“He said ‘contrived’?” he asks, disbelievingly.

“Yes. He said ‘contrived’ and that’s precisely what he meant. His English is getting much better,” you point out. Namjoon raises his eyebrows, impressed despite the circumstances.

“Is that all he said?” he presses. You purse your lips, trying not to laugh.

“No,” you confess. Namjoon snorts and shakes his head, exasperated.

“And I suppose he wants you to go back in there?” he guesses correctly. You bite your tongue and sigh. “Well I don’t think I should make it too easy after what you two have put me through last night and this morning,” he teases, pulling out his phone.

“What are you…” you start. He just grins, waves your hand away and texts something, shoving his phone back in his pocket once he’s done. He crosses his arms and waits, darting glances across at Jeongguk’s door. “He might have gone back to sleep,” you try.

“Doubt it. Not if he thought he was about to get some,” Namjoon counters you. Sure enough, Jeongguk’s door slides across and he stalks out, looking surly. “How are you feeling Jeongguk?” Namjoon asks.

“Frustrated,” Jeongguk announces in convincingly American-accented English. Namjoon laughs briefly.

“You’re frustrated?” he replies. “How do you think I feel then? Do you have any idea how much your little tantrum potentially cost us?”

“Mianhamnida, hyung,” he apologises formally, bowing his head. Namjoon sighs, but acknowledges the apology with a tilt of his head.

“I just don’t understand why, Jeongguk. Is there something else going on that I don’t know about? Do you want to think about it, then come back and tell me when you’ve got your head sorted?” he suggests. Jeongguk nods, head still bowed. “Off you go then,” Namjoon dismisses him, then steps back into the kitchen.

Jeongguk tangles his fingers with yours and swings both of your hands back and forth, looking mischievous and totally unrepentant now that Namjoon has left the room.

“Come to our old park with me, noona?” he asks.

“Mwoh? Hakdong Gongwon?” you clarify. He nods, pulling you over to cuddle you from behind. He buries his face in your neck and purrs like a satisfied kitten.

“Okay, you are really pushing it with Joonie, you warn him, elbowing him gently, but unconvincingly, to try and make him stop tormenting you with his lips. “He just saved our asses with Hitman Bang and you’re gonna push his buttons again?” He ignores you, lifting your hair off your neck to continue his sweet misbehaviour. Anyway, what’s...ahh hajima Kookie, you tease...what’s wrong with Seoul-sup or Ttuk-seom all of a sudden?” you press him, trying to ignore the fact that your entire body is vibrating under his touch.

“Amu geotdo,” he answers your question belatedly. “I just want to go to Hakdong Gongwon with you. For a little adventure.” He makes the word ‘adventure’ sound like innuendo, which gives you pause for thought. You want to tell him you have feelings for him that go beyond the rush of illicit hook-ups, but you’re not so sure he’s in it for anything more than that and you don’t want to scare him off. You’re so busy mulling it over that you thoughtlessly allow him to turn you around, pull your top askew and start teasing a new love-bite at the base of your throat, dangerously close to your chest. Consequently, instead of stopping him like you know you should, you cradle his head with your hand, absent-mindedly, and let him go wild while your mind wanders over the possible outcomes of your two options.

Which may be why Taehyung voices his objection when he happens to wander past on his way to the living room, game controller at the ready.

“Mwoh?! Why are Jeongguk and Noona straight-up necking in the middle of the hallway?” I thought that wasn’t allowed,” he protests.

“It’s definitely not,” comes Namjoon’s voice from the kitchen. “In fact if I see anything I object to when I come out there in a minute, I may be forced to retract my earlier statement to Hitman Bang.” Tae glares at Jeongguk, who, after looking up from your cleavage somewhat guiltily, is admittedly now being a bit smirky. Tae continues to look totally unimpressed until Jeongguk tugs on your hand to get you to follow him over to the door out of the apartment, which you willingly do. Anything to avoid World War III. Besides it’ll give you time to make your mind up.

You and Jeongguk make it down to the underground garage quickly enough, where he guides you over to the sleek new car he splashed out on a week or so ago, and gestures for you to climb in the passenger side. Mistakenly assuming his desire to drive you himself, rather than call the car around, means he might actually behave with the requisite dignity and maturity, you acquiesce. The drive begins innocently enough, even though you swiftly come to the realisation that it’s the lack of a chaperone or any uncomfortable questions from staff or neighbours that has put this entire idea into Kookie’s head.

That is until you’re tearing over Seongsu bridge, at the pace only a boy Jeongguk’s age and temperament would drive at, and he turns to give you a wicked little smile and glances pointedly down at his lap. You feel your cheeks flush bright red.

“Aniyo, Jeongguk-ah!” you exclaim, feeling the warmth of your blush travel down between your legs. “You’ll crash the car,” you try, feebly. Ignoring your protests, he lifts his free hand to play with your hair, then, when he has your attention, he turns on the pouting. You sigh deeply and bite your lip, trying not to smile. He turns his attention back to the road to guide the car onto the off-ramp but still manages to get his jeans unbuttoned and his flies unzipped, releasing his erection from his knickers without breaking his concentration. His slender fingers toy with his dick, adjusting it so you’ll be able to reach it if you just lean across and lower your head.

“Such a pro,” you tease him. “Have you done this before?” It’s his turn to blush, as he turns those Bambi eyes on you again and shakes his head, innocent.

“I just always wanted to try it,” he confesses. “But I never had the opportunity. Too many people watching me. But yeah, I mean I practised that bit,” he admits. You lean across and lick him once, like an ice-cream, failing to notice that your top has fallen open so that he can see your black lace bra. “Unf…shibal...” he mutters, as a dribble of pre-cum leaks from his tip and the car swerves along with his hormones.

“Jeongguk!” you squeal, panicked. “Keep your eyes on the road, jebal!” He smirks and twists the wheel to adjust the car back into the dead centre of the lane as you struggle to readjust your top.

“Go on then...suck it babyyyy,” he demands, dragging the English word out deliberately. “You know you want to.” You roll your eyes, trying to hold back a snort of laughter.

“Tacky babe. Very tacky,” you tease him.

“Tacky?” he checks, his lips pursing and his brow furrowing as they always do when he’s concentrating. You feel bad. You’re always forgetting not to overuse slang when he’s studying his English so diligently.

“Um...like trashy? You know? Cheap? Cliche? Too obvious or predictable?” you fumble for explanations.

“Ahhh!” he gives you one of his cute bunny smiles; an indication that he understands and has now added ‘tacky’ and possibly ‘trashy’ as well to his ever-expanding English slang vocabulary.

“Gwaenchanhaeyo, though? I mean...it’s okay for...blowjob experiment?” he persists. The innocence sparkling in his huge eyes completely belies the words coming out of his pretty mouth. Somehow you imagine it would be much less unnerving if he asked you things like this in his native tongue, but you realise he’s trying very hard to learn ‘conversational’ English and relies mostly on you and Namjoon. Though this latest experiment is stretching the definition of ‘conversational’ to its extreme limit.

Pushing all of your reservations aside, you smile indulgently at him, tell him it’s fine and begin to gently stroke his erection, while keeping your own eyes on his face to make sure he’s watching what he’s doing, not what you’re doing. He does okay, though his steering is a little erratic at some points. Meanwhile his cock stiffens until he’s rock hard and quivering against your palm and his breathing is becoming laboured and shallow, punctuated by the occasional whimper or moan.

“Uh...ne! Yes...Oh God…” he gasps, as he twists the car through Gangnam’s streets. “Jebal...noona…” he begs you, his voice dripping with desire, as the fingers of his free hand thread themselves into the back of your hair, first inviting, then gently insisting that you lower your head. You smile, unable to resist this feeling that he wants you so badly. You give in to the insistent pressure of his lovely fingers and take him in your mouth, relishing the taste of him on your tongue and the illicit thrill of doing this in public. After a moment, you feel the autumn breeze lift your hair and tickle the back of your neck. That’s when you realise that the little exhibitionist has lowered the roof of his car as you rocket ever nearer to your destination.

You speed up your licks and your strokes, coaxing him towards his peak. The taste of his precum titillates you: the prospect of you both christening his fancy leather seats with the pearly results of his first road head causing the heat to rise between your legs again. You recognise the feel of the roads as he turns to crawl up the narrow hills approaching Hakdong so you deliberately give him all you’ve got, caressing the silky head of his dick with quick licks, hollowing out your cheeks and then wrapping his shaft in languorous tongue strokes. And he doesn’t disappoint. You’re just on the final block when he lets out an obscenely loud moan and your mouth is filled with his warm, sticky semen.

“Oh holy shit!” he gasps, his chest heaving as he finally stops the car, throwing his head back against the seat and closing his eyes with a tiny but wicked smile playing on his lips. You wipe your mouth and sit back up, carefully arranging your jacket over his lap to hide his depleted erection.

“Fuck,” he swears softly, his beautiful accent making even the muttered cuss word sound sexy. “We made such a mess…” he comments, awestruck at the leftovers of your feast festooning his leather seat and your velvet jacket. “Aish...your jacket…sorry...” he grimaces apologetically.

“Ah it’ll wash up fine. Just as well the weather isn’t too bad,” you tease him, sticking out your tongue. “C’mon then. Fix yourself and the seats up and let’s go play in the park.” He scrunches up his mouth, trying to figure out the best way to tackle the seats, while you scrounge in his boot for suitable rags. The best you can come up with is a lovely dark blue picnic rug in a red tartan pattern, which you hold up for his appraisal. He scrunches his lips even further and wrinkles his nose.

“Temporary solution?” you suggest.

“But I was going to use it so we could have a picnic in the park before we explore,” he admits, his voice anxious. “I got it the other day and I was keeping it in the car - just in case I could convince you to come here with me one day...” Your heart stops at the look in his eyes. Maybe you should tell him. Maybe you and he are on the same page. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into his tendency to carefully plan things.

If you tell him you’ve fallen for him If you’re too insecure to tell him

Glossary: (feel free to submit corrections for these ^.^)

Amu geotdo (아무 것도) Nothing at all

[butlerbarb]

Comfort (Leviathan x Reader)

i should start by saying sorry for just disappearing out of nowhere. i think i just had too much on my plate and burnt myself out. which then caused me to spiral into a depressive episode and lose all motivation to work on something. 

with that being said, i wanted to write something about how i've been feeling as a way to vent it. i also wanted it to be comfy and nice and i really just wanted leviathan to hug me and tell me everything is okay :) i hope you enjoy this very soft and self indulgent fic bc i love leviathan more than anything

also! i am working on requests, so expect those out within the next few days or so!

ily <3

It had been one of those days. Well, really it had been one of those weeks. Those days where you just didn’t want to leave your bed, more comfortable to hide away by yourself as to not bother anyone with how out of it you were feeling. Of course, Lucifer would probably have your head if he found out you were skipping classes, so you went about your days pretending you were fine.

Leviathan had invited you to his room after school, you hadn’t been able to focus on what he was telling you at breakfast – your mind too fuzzy from having just woken up combined with the fuzziness your off mood had brought on. But knowing the otaku demon, it was either anime or a new video game he bought. His enthusiasm and passion for his interests was something that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you were feeling down.

Your day at school, thankfully, passed by in a blur. Mammon made a point of bragging about his latest modeling job he scored as he walked you home, trying to convince you to go with him. Naturally, he pouted like a child when you turned him down, whining that you were missing the opportunity of a lifetime! Thankfully he gave up when you told him you just weren’t feeling it, but you would be happy to take him up on the offer another time. He dropped you off at home after that, telling you he’d bring you something on his way back.

You were barely in the door when Leviathan was charging at you from the common room, rushing you into kicking off your schools before he dragged you up to his room. You tried to argue that you still had your RAD uniform on and that he should at least give you a minute to change, but he was hearing none of it. He waited all day for you to get home, he wasn’t going to wait another minute! However, that excuse fell apart quickly when you gave him a set of puppy dog eyes, letting you hurry off to your room on a time limit.

You changed into more comfortable clothes quickly, using up only 3 minutes of the 5-minute limit he gave you. You were back in his room just as he had finished setting everything up. You took note of the snacks that he had set up in different bowls around his room. Wow, you thought, this must be really important. Leviathan usually never went all out like this unless it was mega important.

“What’s all this for, Levi? Seems like a lot for just a few episodes.” You commented, grabbing a handful of chips out of a bowl as you sat down on the edge of the bed. You cringed at how spicy it was, some of the flavors were intense in the Devildom. Leviathan’s eyes widened as he gave you an incredulous look.

“A few episodes!? No, no, no. We’re watching the entire series tonight.” The demon explained as he removed a disk from its packaging and slipped it inside his PC. “This series, 10 Things I’ve Always Wondered About the Demon King: Facts versus Fiction! has been teased for years! YEARS! And they finally released it all at once on DVD. People have been speculating about it for so long and AH! I CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH IT!”

You laughed at his energy, simply nodding as you reclined on his bed. He dove into bed next to you once the opening began playing, delight blooming on his face immediately. You let your head rest on Leviathan’s lower legs, expecting him to jump and practically kick you away, but to your surprise he didn’t even seem to notice. The show had barely started, and he was already lost in it.

It had been a few hours and you were only a few episodes deep. Levi had told you it had multiple seasons with at least 12 episodes each, so you really were going to be there for the night. It had been enjoyable at first, but after a while of mindlessly staring at the screen and reading subtitles, you slowly lost a majority of your interest. Leviathan still seemed fully absorbed, however. You breathed a sigh, stretching your arms above your head. You pulled your legs up onto the bed, crossing them underneath you, resting elbow on your knee, and your chin on the palm of your hand.

You let your eyes wander around the room, head filled with the same fuzziness as this morning. While you enjoyed the anime, and spending time with Leviathan, you knew it would have only been a matter of time before you were back to feeling the same way. You tried to act as normal as possible, not wanting to worry Levi or worse, distract him from the series he had been looking forward to.

You were surprised when the sound suddenly stopped, and you tore your gaze away from on of the anime figures your eyes had been locked on for longer than necessary. Glancing at the screen and then behind you to Leviathan, you raised and eyebrow at the worried look on his face.

“Are you okay?” The blue-haired demon asked, sitting up from his reclined positions to mimic your crossed legs.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You replied, giving him a smile, resting your hand on his knee. Leviathan’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head at you.

“You’re not fine! You seemed distracted this morning and it’s the same now. You know you can tell me if something is wrong.”

“Leviathan, I- “

“No excuses! I don’t… I don’t like seeing you upset like this…” He cut you off before you could say anything, mumbling the last part of his sentence as his cheeks flushed a dark red colour. You felt your eyes blow wide as the normally shy demon reached forward, grabbing your free hand as well as the one you had previously rested on his knee.

“Leviathan…” You frowned, watching tears prick the corners of his eyes. Wow, he was really upset about this, huh? You let out a sigh, deciding that if you were going to tell anyone, it might as well be the one who was about to cry out of worry.

“I don’t know, Levi. I’ve just been feeling… off. For the past week. I can’t really describe it. Just sad.” You admitted quietly, your eyes locking onto your joined hands. The silence was unnerving as Leviathan processed your words and suddenly you were extremely uncomfortable.

“Like… depressed?” You nodded in response to his question, eyes briefly flicking up to gauge his expression. He seemed indifferent yet stared at you intently. Your eyes widened as he let go of your hands and threw his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“Levi, what…”

“I just! I just want you to know that… You’re not alone and that I… I care about you…” He whispered, burying his face into your hair as he held you tightly. His sudden confession shocked you into silence, all you could do was wrap your own arms around his torso, trying your hardest not to cry. Although even your hardest attempt couldn’t change how overwhelmed you felt, and eventually you were bawling into his shirt, more than likely staining it with tears.

You sat there together for who knows how long, Leviathan happy to let you cry it all out until you felt better. You could have sworn you felt a tear or two hit the skin of your neck, and you fought back a laugh. Leviathan was such a sensitive demon, being brought to tears by the smallest things.

Eventually, your seemingly endless flow of tears came to a stop. You pulled away from him slightly, his arms still wrapped around you as you briefly used the sleeve of your shirt to dry any remaining tears. Levi slowly pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders as he shot you a concerned look. You laughed quietly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled. You smiled at him, nodding a little to let him know you were okay.

He went to pull back, hands slipping off of your shoulder when you stopped him. Placing both of your hands on his cheeks, watching in amusement as his cheeks gained a flushed colour once again. Pulling him closer by his cheeks, you pressed a small kiss to his forehead. You pulled back not a second later, beaming at him happily.

“Thank you, Leviathan.”

BONUS:

The door to Leviathan’s room burst open, scaring the life out of the both of you. Leviathan jumped back, pushing you away from him in surprise. You fell back onto the bed with a laugh, eye drifting over to the intruder.

“Oi! What’re you two doing? Why’re your eyes all red, human?” Mammon, being the ever loud and obnoxious demon that he was, yelled as he stepped into the room. His arms crossed over his chest as he gave Levi a displeased look.

“Are ya makin’ my human cry, Levi?” The older demon accused, pointing a finger at his younger brother. Leviathan rolled his eyes, completely ignoring the Avatar of Greed as he briefly adjusted his fringe.

“Aren’t you the one always making them cry, Mammon?” The Avatar of Envy answered, glaring at Mammon from underneath his now fixed fringe. Mammon gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in mock offence.

“How dare you! I only even make the human happy, ya know!”

“I don’t know about that, Mammon..” You teased lightly, snickering as his face contorted into genuine sadness as he frowned deeply. “I’m joking! Come here, we’re watching anime! We’ve still got tons of snacks!”

Mammon happily dove into the bed next to you, immediately trapping you next to him with one hand, while the other greedily dove into a snack bowl. Leviathan grumbled lowly, rolling his eyes again before shifting into a comfortable position on your opposite side.

You were glad you had such caring demons to help you out when you were at your lowest. You would never replace them for the world.

[visceraah]

The sound of music

(aka i’m so sorry for naming it after a musical it has nothing to do with dkjsdjksdjk names are hard)

My gift for @anianthe for @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Rating- Teen cause i’m incapable of not writing wayyy more swears then are necessary-

WC- 2947

Ship- Just Virgil interacting w the other sides,, feel free to interpret romantically if you want!

Warnings- not really any! Remus shows up briefly so.. beware of that. and ig Virgil is also kinda mean bUT he does it affectionately.

AO3

-

“We’re having a movie night!”

Virgil blinked. Took off his his headphones which, unfortunately, hadn’t been playing anything- he wore them out of habit, sometimes- meaning he heard everything his stupid best friend just said.

“No, we aren’t.”

Roman flopped down on his bed without waiting for any indication it was okay, something Virgil was all too used to. “We are now.”

Virgil sighed heavily and pushed Roman with his foot, trying to roll him off the bed. He didn’t budge. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Pleaseeee?” Roman employed the puppy dog eyes and Virgil knew already this was a losing battle. Ugh.

“I get to pick the movie.”

Roman perked up immediately, coming to sit next to him. “Yes! Okay! Just- Disney?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, wondering if Roman was capable of consuming content made by anyone else. He was beginning to doubt it. “Nightmare Before Christmas, then.”

“Predictable.” Roman murmured smugly, and he elbowed him.

“You want this movie night or not?”

“Okay, okay! I yield!” Roman cried, clutching his ribs. Virgil was pretty sure he was more upset at the prospect of a cancelled movie night then the ‘pain’ he was overplaying right now.

“Okay.” Virgil agreed, smugly, and set the movie on.

He’d seen it a million times already, which for most people would only make it boring by now- but Virgil found comfort in familiar things. Plus, that animation! He could happily watch it a million more times- and, honestly, probably would.

That meant he had it memorised, though, and soon enough he was singing along to the introduction under his breath. He listened along contently, until an unfamiliar third voice joined the chorus, and he startled, looking to the side. “Roman?”

Roman stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. “... Hi.”

“Were you singing along?”

Romans eyes flicked between Virgil and the screen, where the movie was still playing, in confusion. “Yes, Dr Gloom? Look, I know what a downer you love to be, but these pipes can’t stay closed all the time! They need exercise- and, the world deserves- neigh, needs to hear them!”

Virgil huffed at the dramatics, although it was fond. “I never said it was a problem, Sir Sing-a-lot, I’m just surprised.”

“One, that’s not an insult and I’m absolutely using that,” Roman retorted, “And two… It’s Disney! One of their best! Do you really expect me to not know the words?”

Virgil snorted, but he had to admit, he couldn’t disagree with that. “Whatever, nerd.”

Roman gasped, somehow seeming more upset than when Virgil had elbowed him. Of course that’d be what got to him. “I am not! I’m a prince- a very princely prince! Not-”

“Whatever you say, prince of the nerds.” Virgil hummed out, smirking to himself. Maybe Roman bursting in out of nowhere wasn’t so bad… This time. He still hated surprises and would not be convinced to do this again. He said that every time

-

Being Romans best friend, unfortunately, had its side effects. One was unplanned, unannounced Disney marathons he had no choice but to roll with. Another was actually listening to his musicals so often he learned to like them, too.

For all he said about Hamilton being overrated (and Romans reaction was priceless every time), he had to admit it was good. A little fast for him to keep with, but he rarely sang along to his songs anyway, preferring to hum quietly unless he was really in the mood.

He liked keeping his music to himself, too- he didn’t want to annoy anyone, so he always wore headphones- but sometimes he just wanted to drown the world out, and they went to full volume. Worked a treat to drown everyone out, but plenty audible to everyone else in the room. Sometimes, though, they’d just have to live with it.

Today was one of those days, where Virgil didn’t want to speak to anybody and had the volume to show it. He was playing one of Princeys musicals, too, humming along to ‘my shot’ no matter how different it was to his normal taste. He nodded in acknowledgement as he passed Logan on his beeline for the fridge, planning on grabbing the easiest and least healthy snack possible.

Retreating with his bag of marshmallows in hand- he was pretty sure they weren’t meant to be in the fridge, but they were imaginary, so maybe nothing needed to go in the fridge. Holy shit.

He pulled the headphones back, opening his mouth to ask Logan's opinion, when he heard a sound that made him freeze in his tracks.

Logan was rapping along to himself. And well. Jesus, how had he forgotten about that? He stared, still in disbelief, and Logan awkwardly trailed off when he noticed his gaze. “Ah, you could hear me.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask… Doesn’t matter. Holy shit, Lo, you’re amazing.”

Logan flushed slightly, looking down at the table. “I simply have an appreciation of the genre, and Hamilton has some particular, uhm- how would you say? ‘Bangers’.”

Virgil laughed, slipping into the seat opposite him and taking the headphones off completely. “Dude, I’ve spent enough time with Roman to know having an ‘appreciation’ doesn’t mean you can pull something off.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly fighting back a smile. “I am not sure he’d appreciate you saying that.”

“Eh, I’ve said it to his face before- and will again.” Virgil dismissed, feeling his lips turn up as well. “Why don’t you do it more?”

Logan shrugged, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. “It is hardly a logical skill for me to have, so it simply… Hasn’t come up.”

“Ro doesn’t need an excuse for songs to ‘come up’ before he starts singing them.” Virgil pointed out, and Logan chuffed.

“No, he certainly doesn’t. But we are different people.”

Virgil laughed, nodding. “You could say that again.”

“Oh. Alright, we are differen-”

“It’s an expression, dude. Come on.” Virgil interrupted, sounding nothing but fond as Logan widened his eyes in realisation.

“A highly illogical one, but alright. I can add it to my flashcards to avoid further confusion.” He decided, pulling out his deck there and then to add to. He paused when he heard the crackling of a plastic bag pulled open, looking up as Virgil helped himself to a marshmallow. “Please do not tell me you intend on consuming that entire bag.”

“Maybe.” Virgil held it out, grinning now. “Want one?”

“A key ingredient is gelatin, created by boiling down a pig or cows bones, skin, ligaments or tendons.” Logan deadpanned, and Virgil almost threw the whole bag away in disgust before he remembered,

“But they’re imaginary!”

Logan titled his head. “I suppose so.”

“Actually, I was thinking…” Virgil began, curious about how the fridge actually worked. Soon enough Logan was in a full-fledged rant about mindscape food, and half of it went over his head, but he didn’t mind listening. It was interesting, after all.

-

Whatever concerns Virgil had about not bothering anyone with his music, the other sides didn’t share them. Roman didn’t hesitate to sing whatever came to mind as it came to mind, offering full renditions of his favourite musical tracks daily, Logan could be heard humming to himself as he worked, Remus had no restraint about… Anything, really, and this was no different, Janus wasn’t exactly considerate, and Patton- Patton was the worst at all.

He wandered the mindscape belting out whatever was in his head at the moment which, as a father figure, was always old, tacky, and bad. They’d learned to ignore it for the most part, but some of the songs he played… Some of them were just unforgivable. And, sitting on the couch as Patton tidied up a little, Virgil had left himself completely at their mercy.

“JOLENE-”

Virgil pulled his hoodie over his ears, wishing he’d brought his headphones. Or just not left his room. “Please, no.”

“Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeeeene, I’m begging of you please don’t take my man-”

“Pain, Padre. This is causing me physical pain.” Virgil groaned, slamming his head back in an attempt to make it all stop. Unfortunately, the sofa was soft, and he just bounced back. Eurgh.

“Awh, cmon kiddo! I’m just singing. You could always join me.” Patton chirped, rearranging the same jar for the fourth time in three minutes.

“I might die.” Virgil deadpanned, staring Patton dead in the eyes, and he giggled.

“Don’t be silly… Come on, my music isn’t that bad!”

Virgil couldn’t quite believe his ears. Maybe they were still bleeding from being subjected to Dolly Parton. “You listen to dad music.”

“Well, yeah, but what else did you expect from your pops-”

Virgil groaned louder, shaking his head. “I- whatever. When’d you even start listening to country music?”

“Nico likes it!” Patton replied, brightly, and Virgil bristled.

“That’s it, Thomas has to break it off.”

It took Patton a second to recognize Virgil was joking, and he started laughing. “Don’t be so judgy! I listen to your music- in fact, I quite like being cautious in the disco.”

“Oh my god.” Virgil pulled his hood down further over his eyes, the secondhand embarrassment hitting him full force. “You’re so old.”

“Now, I know I’m no spring chicken, but that’s hardly a nice thing to say-”

“We are all the same age.” Logan interjected as he walked through the room, gone before Virgil could try and drag the only other sane one around him to his aid.

“Look, Patt- I love you, but Dolly is too far.” Jesus, Virgil was spending too much time with Roman. Dramatic ultimatums weren’t his style at all.

“... How about Country Roads?”

“Jesus Christ.” Virgil sunk further back into the sofa, hoping it’d just swallow him and his smile.

-

“I wanna play a song.”

“Get your own headphones.”

“But yours are so loud, they’re basically speakers! You ever turn them up to full volume while they’re on? How loud are they? Oooh, reckon they could rupture your eardrums so blood would bubble out your ears and trail down your face-”

“Stop.” Virgil interrupted with a grimace, before Remus’ imagination could go anywhere gorier. They’d been at this for ten minutes and his answer hadn’t wavered once. “It’s a no, alright? Just… Go away.”

Remus huffed loudly and dropped onto the sofa next to Virgil. Great. “What do you want?”

“Hmmm… Oh, I can do a list!” Remus declared, and before Virgil could tell him please, god, don’t, he was off. “A pony- to disembowel so I can use its guts for ritual purposes, that one dick in a Russian erotica museum they claim is Rasputins and has magical fertility powers, for Barry Bee Benson to be real so I can fu-”

“Alright!” Virgil shuddered and disconnected his headphones. He didn’t know what Remus wanted to do with a literal bee, and he liked it that way. “There.”

Remus grinned a grin with far too many teeth, just a little too sharp, and Virgil rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever monstrosity he was about to hear.

 There’s some whores in this house, there’s some-

���You did not just play WAP!” Virgil punched Remus in the arm, pulling his headphones off “You- I swear to God, don’t do the dance.”

Remus was already halfway stood up and Virgil quickly pulled him back down. He’d never wanted Remus to stay sat next to him more in his life. (To be fair, it wasn’t something he felt often.)

“But I already know it!”

“Of course you do.” Virgil grumbled, glancing over at Remus. “Why do you have to play… This, up here?”

“Jannie’s kicked me out, you know how he is.”

Virgil blinked at him, regretting what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth. “If I get him to back off, will you keep your music to the dark side?”

“That’s not fun, though! Ooh, wait, Logan likes rap, doesn’t he? Reckon he’d like to see the dance?”

Virgil stared at Remus blankly. “Please, say that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t! If you wanna hear one, though… Ooh, ok. Two kids walk into a hospice- ”

“No.” Virgil interrupted again, although even he had to snort a little at how ridiculous it was. Even if it was also deeply, deeply twisted. “I- look, I’m gonna do it.”

Remus tilted his head further then looked natural. Virgil was pretty sure he heard a crack. “Thought you hated me and Double Dee.”

“I- I’m just doing this for my sanity, alright? And Logans.” Virgil snapped back, avoiding meeting his eyes.

Avoiding things didn’t work with Remus, though, and soon enough he was uncomfortably close, peering right at Virgil with that unsettling grin. “Awww, Purps is being nice to us.”

“Shut up.” Virgil hissed, sinking out before Remus could pry any further. Creativity was so pushy, Jesus.

-

Virgil shuddered. He hadn’t been in the dark side of the mindscape in years and, after so long of the bright upstairs, the dark walls felt a little claustrophobic. He just needed to make this quick.

He strode down the hallway, trying to squash the growing nervousness in his stomach. What was the worst that could happen?

… Literally the worst thing he could’ve asked himself, he realised, speeding up subconsciously. So much could go wrong, while he was down here, and he didn’t even know where Deceit was, what if he tripped and fell and broke something and nobody would-

Piano, faint, made him stop in his tracks.

He wasn’t really an expert in classical music, but this had to be one of the more famous pieces, because he’d definitely heard it before. It was good, though, Mozart or something. Pretty difficult, too.

Exactly the kind of pretentious shit Deceit would play, and kick Remus out to enjoy. (Although Virgil couldn’t really blame him for that second part). Emboldened now he knew he wasn’t alone, and could make some jokes about what a snob he was, Virgil entered the room the sound was coming from.

He paled, because in front of him sat Deceit. At a piano. Playing the song.

“Since when do you play.”

Deceit only glanced up at Virgil, the melody smooth even with the interruption. He hated to admit it, but it was impressive. “Things have been quiet. I had time.”

“Quiet? With Remus?”

“I made things quiet.” Deceit amended, shrugging nonchalantly. Knowing him, it had probably been meant to sound as murder-y as it did. Didn’t stop Virgil from shuddering, anyway, serving as the perfect reminder of just how desperately he wanted to leave.

“Alright, look- whatever plan or plot this is, or is covering up, I don’t care.”

Deceit sighed, looking up at Virgil without faltering the music once. Jesus, he actually was good. “You’re right, I’m incapable of having any interests whatsoever without there being some deep, sinister plot behind it. You’ve spotted my evil plan.”

“I- alright, sarcasm’s meant to be for something obviously not true! That could be true!” Virgil protested, already feeling like he was losing this.

Deceit just raised an eyebrow at him in response, and Virgil instinctively hissed back, feeling more and more like he was backed into a corner.

Deceit had the nerve to laugh at him. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to talk to anyone so- so-” Virgil groaned, glaring at Deceit. “Stop playing that stupid thing, would you?”

“Alright.” Deceit agreed, and Virgil waited. He kept waiting. The piano continued and after an excruciating minute of listening for an end, he cursed. Why had Virgil assumed he’d be honest?

“Dick.”

“That is my legal name.” Deceit agreed dryly, and Virgil rolled his eyes. He was impossible to talk to.

“Look, just let Remus back down. He’s probably scarring Logan as we speak.”

Deceit smiled at the thought, looking back down at the keys as he played them. “I never said he couldn’t be down here. Oh, and I’m sure there’s /nothing/ about ‘scarring’ Logan that could’ve appealed to him.”

“What, so Remus lied?” Virgil crossed his arms. Remus was plenty of things, but one of them was painfully, brutally, upfront and honest. “That’s your thing.”

“Not lied.” Deceit tutted, like scolding a child for not knowing something they should have. Virgil clenched his fists. “Just… Was dramatic.”

Virgil tried to figure out what he meant before realising it meant literally nothing, and he glared at Deceit. “Stop being so cryptic for five seconds and tell me, Jesus.”

“I wasn’t aware you cared about him so much.” Deceit smirked, and Virgil threw his arms up in exasperation.

“I’m trying to get rid of him!”

Deceit snickered but finally, mercifully, seemed to have already had his fun. “I didn’t tell him to get out if he couldn’t just be quiet and not…” His smile faltered… “Dance on the piano.”

Yeah, that expression was priceless. Virgil laughed as Janus furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Just… Nevermind.” Virgil was pretty sure imagining that scene playing out was enough entertainment to last him weeks. And a reminder that honestly… Remus didn’t cause as much chaos as he gave him credit for. He was all bark… And plenty of bite, too, but nothing too permanent. “Keep playing, or whatever.”

“You aren’t going to demand I fetch the Duke?”

“He’s not a dog.” Virgil dismissed, resisting a smile at Deceit’s murmured ‘ehhhhh’. “He’ll come back when he wants to. And Logan can look after himself.”

“Amazing.” Deceit sighed heavily. “You wasted my time for nothing, then.”

Virgil could be proud of that, at the very least. He grinned in way of response, sending Deceit a nod before he sunk out.

[ejzah]

This is a story idea way back when the series first began and when Deeks was first introduced. Could you PLEASE write a story about everyone’s reactions when they learn that Jason Wyler is actually undercover Detective Marty Deeks. It’s always annoyed me we never saw everyone’s reactions and I would also love it if we got a formal introduction too please.

A/N: So...a lot of this ended up being from Kensi’s perspective, but I did get most the team’s reactions in to some degree. I hope this is ok.

***

“This guy’s a detective?” Sam repeated, addressing the tiny woman who had introduced herself as Henrietta Lange, instead of Deeks. His tone was definitely insulting. Now mostly over his initial shock of finding out that he wasn’t the only one undercover, Deeks resisted the urge to say something particularly unpleasant and instead smirked at the other man. Agent Sam Hanna from some fancy pants Federal Agency.

“It’s ok, don’t feel bad. I’ve fooled a lot of people before,” he responded, having a feeling it would tick Hanna off even more. He was right; Hanna made a derogatory noise, his expression disgusted, and jerked his thumb in Deeks’ direction.

“I thought LAPD had a dress code. They must really be going down hill if they’re accepting hippies off the street.” Deeks huffed out an unamused laugh. Like he hadn’t heard something similar a hundred times before. He expected a Fed to be cleverer than that honestly.

“I used to be a lawyer too,” he told Hanna who looked appropriately aghast. “And before you ask, my hair was even longer.” Deeks let his gaze flick up to Hanna’s shaved head. He could easily see the man being ex-military. He had that holier-than-thou attitude that came from years of ordering other people around and assuming you were always right.

“Alright, enough chit-chat gentleman,” Ms. Lange decided, stepping between them, her hands folded together. “We have work to do. And Detective Deeks should probably meet the rest of the team as well.”

Deeks followed after them, figuring that he wasn’t going to get anywhere by being too resistant. Besides, he was oddly intrigued by Henrietta Lange. And also a little intimidated and terrified. But he wouldn’t mention that part.

“So tell me, who all is on this team?” he asked as Sam and Ms. Lange lead him to a shiny SUV. “And where exactly are you taking me?”

“The boat shed,” Sam answered shortly, ignoring the first question.

“Ooh, sounds fancy.”

“How about we keep the small talk to a minimum?” Deeks pursed his lips at the suggestion, thinking that Hanna was about to find out just how chatty he could be. He smirked again, biting back a chuckle. If this NCIS place could mess up his op, then he could certainly ruin their day.

***

“Wait, how did LAPD get in on this?” Callen asked and Kensi perked up, wondering what Hetty was telling him. He sounded vaguely annoyed. “Ok, yeah, we’ll be at the boat shed.” Hetty had called Callen about five minutes ago with an update and there’d mostly been silence on his end. She waited impatiently for him to hang up.

“What was that about? Did Hetty get Sam out?” Callen chuckled at her questions, shaking his head as he slipped his phone into his back pocket.

“Yep, Sam’s out. And apparently Wyler got released too.”

“What? But, he attacked Sam,” Kensi said, wondering just what kind of criminal Jason Wyler was that he had strong enough connections to get out of jail after assaulting a federal agent.

“Turns out Wyler is actually some kind of undercover cop. Martin Deeks, Hetty said,” he explained with a frown.

“You’re kidding.” Kensi had known there was something off about Wyler, but a cop?

“Unfortunately I’m not. I’m gonna text Eric and see what he can dig up on this guy now that we have a real name.”

Kensi waited a few minutes and then peered over Callen’s shoulder, trying to read his texts.

“What did he say?”

“‘That makes a lot of sense. I’ve got a whole file on a Detective Marty Deeks. Looks like he’s a good cop, but whoever sets up his backstopping needs to be fired.’,”Callen read off and Kensi rolled her eyes.

“And?”

“He said to send Deeks over when we’re done so he can give him a “real” alias. He’s worried about the guy getting marked.”

“Eric hasn’t even met him yet,” Kensi protested, annoyed.

“You know Eric. He can’t resist the chance to geek.”

About 30 minutes later, Hetty, Sam and Detective Deeks walked in. Hetty led the small group and had the barest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips as Sam walked behind her, his expression stony and impassive.

Deeks stopped in the doorway, glancing around with a vaguely impressed look. He spotted Kensi, one eyebrow rising briefly, and she crossed her arms defensively. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it. He winked at her, then practically swaggered the rest of the way into the room like he owned the place.

Hetty cleared her throat and gestured to him.

“Everyone, this is LAPD Detective Marty Deeks. Detective, these are Agents Callen and Kensi Blye.” She smiled in a satisfied way and added, “Play nice.” Without another word, she left.

“Deeks,” Callen acknowledged him. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Deeks raised an eyebrow at the clear attempt to control the situation but sauntered over to the table, hooked his foot around a chair and sat down in an insolent manner.

Sam followed the movement, his face remaining impassive, but Kensi thought she saw a hint of animosity. That was unexpected. From what she’d experienced, he usually didn’t let his emotions show unless it was a particularly personal case. Apparently Deeks rubbed everyone the wrong way.

With a little prompting, Deeks explained his plan to get Sam arrested and keep him out of the gym, and effectively out of LAPD’s way.

She was vaguely impressed by his skills and ingenuity, but brushed that thought away. He was pretty good, but not as good as them. Plus, she’d known something was off about him immediately, she’d just been wrong about the root cause. Kensi also silenced the voice that reminded her that he’d been suspicious of her as well.

Deeks helped himself to some coffee, again making himself at home as he smiled cockily and joked, easily guessing their set up at the mission. Kensi resisted the urge to laugh as he teased Sam and Callen. It wasn’t good-natured teasing either, anymore than their comments to him were well-meant.

Clearly he disdained them. Good, she didn’t like him either. He was full of himself, too self-assured, scruffy, unkempt. Blue-eyed and blonde, the voice in her head supplied helpfully.

Shut up, she told it firmly. Callen and Sam were wrong. She did not have a thing for him. He was a mediocre cop who’d obviously gotten in over his head. He glanced her way, that sarcastic, half-flirty smirk in place and she stared back at him, hoping to unnerve him. All she got in return was a smoldering look, his blue eyes daring her to look away first.

Despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel a little bad that they were hijacking Deeks’ case. He’d spent months on it and now they were taking over without any remorse.

“You know, you never answered my question,” Deeks said a while later as she escorted him from the building. “Are there really r-rated photos of Special Agent Kensi Blye floating around somewhere?” Kensi glared at him and said the first thing that popped into her head.

“In your dreams.” It wasn’t particularly brilliant, but Deeks grinned nonetheless and said,

“Gladly.”

“I could take you down right now,” she threatened mildly, but he just kept smiling, clearly not intimidated by her in the slightest. It pissed her off. And intrigued her. Damn him. She would not be attracted to this scruffy, surfer dude.

“I bet you could,” he murmured as they stopped in front of his car. “See you around Agent Blye.” He winked at her again before he slid into his car and drove off.

“I don’t like him,” Sam said coming up behind her with Callen by his side.

“At least he’s on our side,” Callen pointed out. “It would be a lot more annoying if he was actually a criminal. Let’s just hope he stays out of our way for the rest of the case.”

“And once we close the case won’t have to see him ever again.” Kensi said, not sure why she felt a hint of regret at the thought. She was definitely not smitten.

“Thank god,” Sam said. “Cause I think I’d end up shooting him if I had to listen to his rambling for more than a few days.”

***

A/N: Hopefully this is ok. I really played on that fact that none of them got along super well at first.

[hibibun]

Do Over

Series: Persona 5 Pairing: Akira Kurusu/Goro Akechi Summary: Akira tries one last time to convince him and is surprised it didn't actually end with a bullet to the head. Warnings: Implied Suicide Ideation Notes: it has been a Long time since i replayed p5 especially when i first wrote this so please forgive any continuity errors. on that note i also have not played royal and this was written long before that came out or was announced so it will have no relation to it.  AO3

Akira knew it was reckless, but he had hoped it would be more a danger to himself than anyone else. Futaba and Morgana had worked so hard putting together their plan, yet, there was one other option that kept nagging the bespectacled teen. There were conversations, looks, just things about Goro Akechi that he couldn’t ignore even with the damning proof that he was about to betray them sitting in front of him.

It was impossible to ignore that the detective was also an actor, but there times came to mind that didn’t feel fake. It was selfish and stupid, but Akira wanted to know why. Why did Goro feel like he needed to do this? What did he gain from the other murders other than a ‘crime’ to solve as he can’t have known that the Phantom Thieves would pop up to eventually take the blame for those incidents?

He’d planned to ask that and more from the other, but the minute he meets him alone by the secluded portion of Shibuya’s train station that served as one of their former hideouts, all the words he’d planned vanish.

“What did you need? The calling card isn’t going out for another week I thought.”

Speaking has never been his strong suit, nor was subtlety.

“Why did you pretend not to know we were the Phantom Thieves?” Akira asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Truly nothing gets past you,” Goro answered a wide smile forming on his face, “What gave me away?

“Pancakes.”

The word lingered as the detective took a moment to remember just what that could be referring to.

“You’re always surprising me Kurusu-san, but unfortunately, I don’t think I can tell you why I lied just yet,” he said as his genuine smile dipped into that fake one once more, “Unless you’ve already come here because you know why I can’t.”

Akira didn’t want to admit anything despite it being clear on the other’s face that he knew. Some perhaps naïve side of him had hoped Goro could be reasoned or bargained with. He hasn’t given up per se, but there’s little else he can think to say considering he’s already compromised the plan quite a bit just by admitting he was aware something’s off.

“I don’t actually. I don’t know why you’re doing this at all.”

The detective’s careful smile remained static and Akira was having difficulty now telling whether it was actually real or fake, as if Goro’s mouth hadn’t quite decided which it was making either.

“Think about it a little harder. I know you’re not stupid Akira.”

His fingers froze as he’d been in the midst of fiddling with the front of his bangs out of nervous habit. That was the first time he’s heard the other use his first name and he wished it wasn’t filled with so much malice.

“You… aren’t on our side are you? Not really anyway,” he answered, but that part was obvious. It didn’t really explain anything. He’d thought—no, hoped—different though. As if some part of Goro had wanted to be with them, but simply couldn’t for some reason. The truth that maybe he didn’t want to and that his hatred towards them was actually sincere seemed to blindside Akira and he kind of hated himself for thinking otherwise.

“You know what’s going to happen to us, but what’s going to happen to you?” Akira pushed, desperate to get his point across even if it was obvious now more than ever that his feelings were always stronger than the one standing in front of him.

“I’ll finish the job, take the credit and then… well, I’ll deliver the comeuppance I’ve been striving for,” Goro replied vaguely and it took Akira a moment to parse what he meant. The whole thing struck him as odd though. His words didn’t sound as confident as they usually did and he was left wondering if that was really what the detective wanted. Even more so, it didn’t answer the original question in the slightest as it left Goro’s fate more ambiguous than ever.

“If we both want to tear things down, why are you so against joining us? We could help you,” Akira reasoned, selfishly adding, “I want to help you.”

Goro’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stepped closer. Akira unintentionally backed up until he felt the bar of the railing dig into his back, suddenly aware of how close he is to the edge.

“Someone like you or your little friends could never understand. I don’t care if we want the same things. I don’t even care if what you’re all doing actually is helping society or not. In the end, I just want to see that man fall from grace by my own hands, and nothing, will take that away from me,” Goro seethed, as he placed a carefully gloved hand to the other’s chest.

“You can’t help me and more than that I would never want attic trash like you to even try.”

He punctuated his point by grabbing tight the folded label of Akira’s uniform, but his hands didn’t push one way or the other. Akira was expecting it though and braced for the fall, surprised when it didn’t come. Quite frankly, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to keep talking.

“What makes you think he doesn’t already know what you’re planning to do? You’re not exactly subtle, Akechi,” Akira said, a bemused expression on his face despite the situation at hand, “You’re dead no matter what you do. Just like me.”

Just slightly, the grip the detective had on his jacket loosened and he could tell his words were affecting the other’s resolve. Despite this, Goro continued on as if he still had every intention of pushing him.

“If you know what I’m intending to do, your little friends must be trying to stop me. Considering I could end things now, you might as well tell me what it is they plan on doing.”

“That’s the thing Akechi, we don’t have a plan. You’re going to betray us, and I’m the one who will take the fall,” He bluffed, interested at this point in seeing if anything he has to say will convince him.  

“So you came here to try and stop me now? That’s pretty stupid—and pathetic,” Goro chuckled, no humor actually present in his laugh.

“No, I mostly just wanted to know why; and to be honest, you still haven’t really told me,” Akira explained and the detective hated the way his expression made his words seem almost believable. Before he could open his mouth to tear apart Akira’s words, the other broke his rhythm with a question so quiet it took him a minute to process it.

“Were we ever friends?”

Goro could admit, he had wanted that. Somewhere in between his attempts to spy on them and the times they actually spent time together, he and Akira had felt like friends. Yet, that line was so blurry at times as well. With the amount of connections the other had, why would he ever take the time to actually think of the detective in that manner? Someone like him already had everything he could ever want, even with a permanently damaged reputation and a less than pleasant living situation.

He would never have any of those things no matter how hard he tried. His reputation was built on a stack of lies that would come tumbling down the moment he let go of the trigger as he publicly destroyed his father’s life. Then where would he be? Likely dead or soon to be dead, but he told himself such an outcome was worth it. He had nothing before this and even if he had nothing afterwards, what did it matter? The last thing he could do with his life was at least ease his resentment.  

Even after losing everything, Akira had more than him, but there’s something rotten and painfully sweet that even with everything he has that he still would want someone like Goro.

“And here I was calling you my equal, but you’re stupider than I thought,” Goro eventually replied, voice tight with bitterness and a dash of fear. He hated that his words were only met with a smile. As if everything he just said was seen through in an instant because truthfully, he knew for as idiotic and thoughtless Akira was when it came to taking a risk, he was anything but a moron.

“Is it really so hard to believe me? They wouldn’t hate you for wanting to seek revenge. That’s what the Phantom Thieves do,” Akira tried again figuring one last time couldn’t hurt. The detective hunched his shoulders, his grip on the other’s lapel losing all of its hold. It was supposed to feel satisfying taking their little group down and killing Akira with them, but suddenly he couldn’t find it in him. However briefly, he had entertained the notion that this all was a trap, but of course Akira is stupidly earnest and even more foolishly optimistic.

“They’ll never accept what I’ve done. Even if they feel the same way about him, I…” He started, before Akira cut him off.

“I can’t promise you that, nor can I say whether they’d forgive you, but I didn’t feel right just letting this happen without talking to you. There’s no reason you can’t start changing now, it’s not too late,” Akira said as his own hand moved to delicately unwind Goro’s from his jacket.

“What would you even tell them? Would they believe you?”

“I’d say you had a change of heart,” Akira joked, his eyes giving away how much he wanted to make the mood lighter. Goro couldn’t help the laughter it drew out of him and violently he has the urge to intertwine their fingers while his hand was still being held.

“It’s not like I can change things now. I guess I couldn’t kill you after all,” he replied instead, drawing his hand away entirely. Goro watched the way the other’s mouth twitches up into a smile and when he opened it to answer, he can tell this time it is with complete sincerity.

“I’m touched.”

[a-simple-imagine]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Requested by anonymous: “Could I request a Dan x female!reader that’s full of a bunch of cuddles and softness and Dan being so happy because he’s finally in a stable relationship with someone he loves”

Pairing: Danny Torrance x fem!reader

Words: 1.7k

A/N - kinda sad that doctor sleep isn’t in cinemas here anymore... I miss my baby rose

An empty bed always feels worse when you’re left wondering if he's ducked out. It wouldn't bother you normally. Not every relationship was meant to be but this time was different and not to mention this was definitely more than a one night stand or a fling. You thought you actually had something; He made you happy and you thought you did the same for him. You toss over in bed staring out the door you could have sworn you closed; last line or security after all. He must have left it open. You sigh to yourself As you let your eyes flutter closed.

"How are you still tired?" You groan at the question burying your face further into the pillow. "Never met someone who can sleep so much."

Looking up, you spy none other than Dan Torrance leaning against the doorframe in a pair of grey boxers. A smile on his lips; a tray held comfortably between his hands. You were glad he was still here.

"You wore me out," You joke, a lazy smile spreading over your lips. "For a second I thought you had run out on me... again."

"Are you still hung up on that," Dan walked into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed and placing the tray beside you. Glancing towards the tray, it holds a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in the middle. A glass of orange juice to the right. A bottle of syrup to the left.

"It was a one-time thing- promise, I even made you breakfast in bed to make up for it."

"Oooh look at you," you tease, pushing yourself upright so you back was against the headboard. "Thank you."

He kicks his legs up onto the bed, getting comfortable beside you. Taking the tray, you place it in your lip, picking up the cutlery that had slid out from under the side of the plate. "What do you want to do today?" He asks as the blade cuts through the surface of the fluffy pancake. You shrug, offering him the piece. He leans in to take but not before you can pull it just out of reach. An amused smile on your lips as you hold it out for him again. He's cautious but takes it into his mouth.

"Honestly? Sleep," You suggest, cutting a piece for yourself.

"I figured you'd say that," he started, placing his hand on your leg which was covered by the duvet. "But- and hear me out here. How about we- I don't know, go outside?" You glance to him briefly before turning back to your food. "We could have lunch, maybe watch a movie?"

"Or," you drag the word out for emphasis. "We could stay in bed and order in food. Plenty of viable movie options on Netflix."

The man just shakes his head. "How about we go out for lunch and then return, much later, to watch a movie. Cuddling could be on the table but only if we take a walk after said lunch."

"But it's so cold outside." You groan but it's mixed with a chuckle. He was determined to get you out of bed and so you decide to compromise. It's only fair. "How about we go for a reasonable length walk, then takeaway and movie back here? Final offer- take it or leave it, babe."

You watch him contemplate the offer. "Fine," he nods once. "It's a deal."

You hold your hand out which he gladly shakes. "Pleasure doing business with you, Torrance."

You finish your breakfast relatively slowly in hopes of putting off going for a walk. It's past one by the time you're finally ready to leave the house. Dan still insists it will be 'fun' and you don't question it. You could do with the fresh air; you have nothing against walking it's just when winter comes around you're reluctant to face the icy tundra. Wrapped up in the winter coat you bought no more than two weeks ago, a matching hat, gloves, and scarf set you're ushered out of your apartment. You let Dan decide where to go, which isn't far. There is a park fifteen minutes from your building. It's not all that big so it doesn't get mass amounts of visitors but it's kept fairly tidy and in the summer, there's a little local fair with games and food. But it wasn't summer so the park was pretty much empty except for the odd dog walker who probably wouldn't be out here if it weren't for the dog. You're kind of glad for the dogs though, they're adorable and make the park worth the trip. Dan squeezes you're gloved hand almost every time you spot another dog which brightens your smile. But none of its enough to make you forget just how cold you are. The man beside you puts on a brave face, insisting alongside every groan that it isn't that cold but you know he's lying. You can tell by the pink of his cheeks and ears. It takes a lot of nagging for him to finally submit, practically dragging him all the way back and through the door into your only slightly less cold living room. You tried to keep your use of the heating to a minimum; money doesn't grow on trees but right now was an emergency.

"I've never been so cold in my life" You shiver as you strip of your gloves, scarf and hat. Throwing them into the bowl you keep by the door where you like to keep your keys; when you actually remember to use it that is.

"What should we do for dinner?" Dan asks ignoring your cold comment. "Chinese?"

"Pizza." You reply; fiddling with the buttons to switch on the heating. It'd take a while to get comfortably warm. Shitty radiators.

"Pizza it is. I'm gonna run to the store first."

"Aye aye captain." You give him a three-fingered but lazy salute.

"Do you want anything?" You think about it for a second before shrugging. Dan disappears back out into the cold. Slipping into the bedroom, trading your clothes for sweats, you dive into bed. Drowning yourself in the warmth of the duvet. Pulling out your phone to waste the time. When he returns you're two lives deep into candy crush.

"Thought you were putting in a movie." He comments as you swipe on the screen. Matching the colourful candy in a line of three.

"Oops,"

"You're not gonna leave that bed again are you?" You glance to him from the comfort of your duvet cocoon, shaking your head a little. "Not unless I have to." You flash a bright smile. Bracing the cold, you remove your arm to pay the space next to you. It had warmed up a little but just a little. He makes sure to grab the remotes before climbing under the covers. Placing them ever so carefully into your lap.

"What should we watch?"

"Something... Christmasy maybe? Elf." You lock your phone and shuffle a little closer to the man.

"A little early for Christmas, don't you think?"

"Never." You insist, laying your head against him. He doesn't argue, putting on the movie you requested. Settled in, he puts his arms around you. Holding you close. The pizza is ordered shortly after thanks to the rumble of your stomach; you paid but Dan is the one to get up when it arrives at the door. The pizza doesn't last all that long nor do the wedges they came alongside it. That was to be expected.

With the pizza box pushed to the side and something mindless now playing in the background, you're rested comfortably against his chest as he runs his hand through your hair; gentle to the touch. "What's on your mind?"

He stops his motion for a moment before continuing. "Nothing really,"

You nudge him softly. "Tell me."

"Just thinking about you."

"All good things I hope."

"Well..."

"Hey," you huff. Dan chuckles lightly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

"Nothing bad I swear. You're just a very happy presence and I'm grateful for that."

You glance up at him but he seems to be in a world all his own. This happened more often than not. When you first started seeing him, Dan had explained about his 'shine' as part of his total honesty rule. You took his words with a grain of salt, somethings were to be believed others seemed utterly impossible. For the most part, you don't bring it up unless he does. It's hard to gauge how he feels about the shinning as a whole so you don't want to upset him by bringing it up all the time. There were things he hadn't told you and that was fine too;  they were probably things you didn't want to know anyway. “Please don't tell me there are ghosts in here, not sure I could handle the stress."

"No, it's nothing like that." He reassures you. "Stop worrying."

"I constantly worry about you, you're like a McDonald's for spirits." You joke playfully, hoping he saw the funny side.

"Let's not." His voice is firm but in no way aggressive so you just let it go. Spinning around so your body was facing him, you wrap your arms tightly around the man.

"You know what I want?" You mumble against his chest.

"Ice cream." He didn't pose it as a question but a fact and he was right.

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." He shrugs and you feel his whole body move in your grip. "Good thing I bought some earlier."

"You're too good to me. Cookie dough?"

"Obviously." You pull back and briefly connect your lips.

"I'll go get it since you've been so nice today."

You slip out of bed to collect the pint of ice cream in question. The apartment is considerably warmer now as you saunter over to the tiny freezer above your fridge. Grabbing two spoons, you return to the comfort of your bed. Handing the boyfriend a spoon as you settle in again. Dan Torrance was an unexpected but interesting addition to your life. He was all kinds of weird but that was what you liked about him. He was so unapologetically himself.

[cheetahsprints]

Schoolyard Gossip

Prompt: Little Homeschool

Summary: Peridot learns that Little Homeschool has a thriving rumor mill, and she's the latest victim. Meanwhile, Amethyst stakes a claim which may cost what she wants most.

Words: 2181 

Peridot dances in place as her Botany & Permaculture class comes to a close. She's headed to teach Meep Morp - or as it's registered, 'Sculpting & Making Art with Items' - Class next, but that isn't the source of her excitement. Almost immediately, she spots Amethyst. She finishes inhaling her fries, probably fresh from the boardwalk. They fall into step, chatting and laughing. Her next destination is baseball practice. This is a usual part of their routine.

However, something new happens. A warm purple hand slightly bigger than her own engulfs hers. Warmth spreads to her core. For a moment, she blames it on the sun emerging from the cloud. Logically, she knows her hard light projection isn't so affected. She's glad she doesn't have organs, or they'd be clumsily somersaulting. For years, she wondered if she was imagining the spark growing between them.

These days, Amethyst's time is quite full - at least compared to before. It's such a reward, teaching and guiding gems. The memory of the pride in Pearl's eyes when she said she wanted to have a part in her still makes her giddy. It's great to put her Earth culture knowledge to good use. Steven was a harder case, with the nerve to doubt her. 

She chalked it up to personal issues - he was used to helping in a certain way. That boy was lost… anyone could see it, but Amethyst was clueless about how to get him out of the funk. She does have free time to hang out with her fellow OGs - as they've been nicknamed by formerly corrupted gems, never mind that they were Crystal Gems during the war while Amethyst was incubating - as well as the new gems she's come to consider family. She's even taken up art lessons, suggested by her old friend Vidalia, and encouraged by her current crush, Peridot.

Yet, none of that is so exciting as the time between Earth Stuff 101 and Baseball practice. That is when she gets to enjoy her walk and talk with Peridot. She can see Peridot enjoys Little Homeschool just as much as she does, if not more. Peridot is basically the poster child of Reformed Gem, and she wears it loud and proud. Amethyst doesn't always completely follow the topic Peridot is on, but she appreciates that Peridot gives her a chance, expects her to be smarter than Amethyst makes it seem - truth is, she is more knowledgeable than she lets on. Stars forbid anyone think she's a nerd! 

In any case, Amethyst does follow the way Peridot's eyes light up when she's passionate. She doesn't miss her wide grins, showing off pointed canine-esque teeth that seems a common trait among green, yellow, and orange gems. She loses herself in Peridot's charming, if dorky, laughter. She tracks the movements of Peridot's fingers when she's frustrated, dragging them through her hair or gnawing them. Today she can't resist breaking the bubble and grasping her hand. She does resist the urge to grab her alluring behind. That wouldn't track unless they were explicitly a couple.

Peridot wouldn't have expected holding Amethyst's hand to be a revelation, but it is. This is just where she wants to be. She doesn't want it to end. Inevitably they reach a literal crossroads where they must part ways for now. For the rest of the day, it's difficult to focus. She has to mentally rebuke herself several times and endure instances of Lapis and others raising an eyebrow at her. She rubs her hand that held Amethyst's with the other, trapped in disbelief. 

Was it just two friends being friendly and platonically holding hands… does she dare read into it?

Browsing the internet and her own mental database of romantic information is neither helpful or productive. The history is too confusing. It reminds her of the time she briefly thought Amethyst was jealous of Lapis, after Pearl let slip everyone thought they were dating - first of all, ew, Peridot shudders at the memory of drowning those rumors - only for it to turn out Amethyst's was preoccupied with Jasper, resulting in a grim attitude. 

Overall, Peridot has a terrible history of being able to read Amethyst. She'd have better luck with Garnet. Nonetheless, as the weeks pass, the hand holding becomes part of the routine. Though exhilarating, it has downsides. It's distracting for one, and Peridot is certain she saw student gems pointing and whispering. It comes to a head in class at the end of the week.

"So, who can tell me the importance of bees in agriculture?"

To Peridot's pleasant surprise, one of the gems near the back, a known slacker, raises her hand. Peridot points, and instant regret is the result.

"You and Professor Amethyst are a thing right? I have a bet with a Nephrite who doesn't believe me!"

Peridot glares at the Quartz, indignant. "My social life is none of your business. However, as it stands, I am certainly not seeing anyone in a romantic capacity."

Kunzite sees fit to chime in, "With respect, that's coprolite. I asked the same of Amethyst yesterday, and she said, and I quote, ya darn right, that's my girl and don't forget it."

Peridot's eye twitches, her stone well chipped. What kind of sick joke is this? Amethyst is supposed to be her friend. Sure she's given to pranks, part of what Peridot adores about her, but this is too much. It's embarrassing to be contradicting and upsetting because it's not true. In love with her or not, she's going to kill Amethyst. Grinding her teeth she manages, "You. Did not. Get called on. Or raise your hand. Thus your comment will be ignored and stricken from the log."

"There's a log?"

"Silence!"

Peridot releases her class early, all the better to prepare for the confrontation soon. Unfortunately, traversing the grounds turns out to be a task. Every gem that crosses her path has to give their opinion, as the word of the exaggerated relationship between her and Amethyst has already spread like wildfire.

When Amethyst reaches for Peridot's hand, Peridot yanks away from her with a borderline snarl. It cuts deep. Did she mess up already? Amethyst has been taking it as slow as possible despite the screaming desire within her - or rather because of it. Peridot is careful and easily startled, like a deer. With her, it was two steps forward and twenty steps backward if you weren't cautious. 

Amethyst notes that Peridot is tense enough to be shaking. An old stream of self loathing enters Amethyst's consciousness, but she redirects it with reason. She'll hear out Peridot before she jumps to blaming herself. It might just be -

"I'm setting a boundary," Peridot claims, her volume wince inducing. "You are not to lie about my love life AS A JOKE. That is private, not to mention a hurtful breach of trust!"

- a misunderstanding. Amethyst recoils as though struck by the force of Peridot's accusation. Puzzled, she mumbles, "Uh, what? Sorry, no idea what you're getting at, Dot." In the past she would've been incensed at the implication, but she maintains a relaxed air. 

If she fumes too, Peridot's ire is likely to become an inferno.

Peridot takes a sharp inhale. She barks, "Don't play dumb, I know you're not. WHY DID YOU TELL KUNZITE WE'RE DATING? I can't walk a meter without getting congratulated or someone making a comment!"

"Wha -"

Amethyst squints, checking that Peridot's gem isn't cracked. Wasn't she mad about her spreading lies? Amethyst points at her saying, "If you wanted it to be a secret, you should've mentioned it, and not held my hand in public."

"YOU - WHAT - I -"

Many gems have stopped to take in the scene. Peridot notices them and her cheeks darken. She digs her fingers into her hair in a way that would be adorable, under circumstances where her aggravation wasn't directed at Amethyst.

Peridot seems to gather her thoughts and promptly explodes. "YOU SEEM TO BE UNDER THE IMPRESSION WE'RE TOGETHER! I DON'T RECALL GETTING THE MEMO, AMETHYST!"

"Instead I get this information from a gem in my class - unbelievable," Peridot finishes, her voice soft and cracking by the end. "This prank has gone too far."

Amethyst actually has to clamp her hands on either side of her head to suppress the onslaught. It takes a moment, past the slight ringing and giggles from the peanut gallery, to register what she said. Amethyst moves her hands to rub her own face, uncertain if she wants to scream, laugh, cry, or some combination of the three. She remembers before the whole Pink Diamond revelation, when it seemed dangerous to hope. That fear didn't dissipate until the corrupted gems were healed. 

Now it seems, she had gotten ahead of herself and wrecked the train.

"Peri - Peridot, listen I -" 

Amethyst stares hard at the ground, unable to meet Peridot's angry eyes. "It's not a joke. I thought my feelings for you were obvious, I just didn't want to - to push it, to scare you away. I swear I didn't mean to hurt you."

A few tears slip. She swiftly wipes them away, sniffling. When she dares to look up, Peridot is staring at her, lips parted. Peridot is aghast, thrown by what just occurred. She was embarrassed at being played for a fool, now she's ashamed of her indiscreet outbursts. She was seconds away from demanding an apology. She wants to drop down and beg forgiveness.

She grabs Amethyst by the wrist and sprints to her greenhouse. It's guaranteed empty for a while, allowing them privacy that Peridot should've granted in the first place. She stutters for a bit as her mind races faster than her tongue can keep pace.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you like that in front of everyone. Argh! I'm such a clod!" Peridot hugs one of the potted plants to her chest and gazes at Amethyst, beseeching. "I don't know what's going on anymore, what are we?"

Amethyst reaches for her, hesitates, then drops her arm. Had Peridot possessed insides, they would've turned to dust at that. Amethyst says, "I accept your apology, I know how proud you are and I get why you lost it like that - I shouldn't have assumed. I - I didn't think we were dating yet exactly, but you didn't have a problem with us holding hands… I just… I didn't want anyone to think you were - but I didn't have the right -"

Realization striking, Peridot interrupts, "You were afraid someone would make a move, before you got the chance to take the next step."

"Yeah! But that was the wrong way to handle it. I should've talked to you instead of er -" Amethyst snorts. "Marking my territory, as it were."

Peridot frowns. Words are hard, feelings are hard. Once upon a time, Peridot wouldn't be able to have this type of conversation without some kind of intermediary. She takes a second to marvel at how far she's come before continuing to explain.

"Regardless, my reaction was overblown. I - it was painful, the implication when it wasn't reality, so I thought. It was jarring enough that a tasteless joke seemed in the higher percentile of probability than the idea that you were… more or less telling the truth," Peridot explains.

Amethyst blurts, "Can I hug you?"

Peridot opens her arms, and Amethyst rushes forward. Peridot notes that she's careful to hold back in order to avoid knocking them over along with the table behind Peridot. She relaxes into the embrace, relief coming over her. When Amethyst's arms loosen, Peridot shifts to press her lips to Amethyst's gemstone. Amethyst strokes her back.

"Hopefully the students will stick their noses elsewhere after that mess."

"Don't worry about the gossip line, I've got a little hook about a certain Pearl and her new squeeze I can cast as a distraction," Amethyst claims.

"I can still be your girl, if you still want that," Peridot murmurs.

Amethyst's eyes are shining. "Of course I do, ya nerd.

Peridot sighs, tilting her head as a fond smile invades her visage. 

"At least my critical cognition isn't weighed down by exponential density as compared to my stone."

Amethyst blinks, processing her 'peri-phrasing' as she dubbed it. Her expression melts into understanding, then flashes into false rage. "Oh really? You can run but you can't hide!"

Amethyst lunges at her. Peridot uses her power to smack Amethyst square in the face with a trowel and makes good her escape. She dives under the nearest table, army crawling her way to the exit. Her hair gets tussled, but it's the least of her concerns. Amethyst bellows a battle cry, summoning her whip in Peridot's peripheral vision. Peridot reverts to sprinting on all fours, while Amethyst races after her laughing and cracking her whip. Chasing down her favorite green geek-mobile, Amethyst muses that the scene is sure to cause a lot of speculation.

[expresstheobsession]

5 + 1

5 times Shoto almost kisses you and the 1 time he actually does. 

This is for @infinity2639 for winning my contest. If you guys want to see more contests where I’ll do more custom one shot type content let me know. I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it. 

I didn’t have time to proof read so if you notice mistakes let me know and I can fix it. xx

Word count: 1593 | Warnings: Fluff?? 

The first time Todoroki almost passed the line of friendship was unexpected in the way that he didn’t realize just how cute you were after waking up. 

It was innocent enough, the way your glasses sat crooked on your face after a nap during your free period of the day. He just wanted to fix them, but instead ended up pushing your short hair aside so he could better adjust the frames. 

At least that’s what he told himself, but deep down he knew that he wanted to brush his fingertips through your hair just a little bit. 

“You should take these off if you’re going to sleep during school.” He joked, avoiding eye contact as he fixed them quickly. The way you blushed sent his heart into a small stutters. He knew it wasn’t normal to react this way around a friend, but he tried to play it off.

“Thanks, Shoto.” You whispered, glancing up at him when he pulled his hand away. When his eyes finally met yours the thought rushed through his mind, fleeting almost. 

“Kiss them”, it seemed to whisper. 

Shoto pulled away though, unable to comprehend this new discovery of his feelings for you. He blamed it mostly on getting caught up in the moment of brushing your hair back, but your cute sleepy expression may have had some part in it, even if Shoto was unwilling to admit it.

--

The second time was definitely his fault and not your own, unless you placed blame on the messy way you eat your ice cream. 

The two of you sat quietly on a bench outside the sweets shops, both digging into your favorite flavor as the crowded sidewalk flowed with unaware citizens. He couldn’t help glancing at your attempt to eat the ice cream before it completely melted in the fading summer heat. 

His chuckle was low, the amusement clear in the small smirk that appeared on his lips. “Ash, you’re going to get a brain freeze.” 

You ignored him, taking an extra big part of the delicious treat and then giving him a smug look before your nose scrunched up in instant regret. 

“I told you so.” He gloated, leaning in close and using his finger to gently wipe a missed spot hiding in the corner of your mouth. 

The action was without thought, but when Shoto realized just how close he was, his actions froze. He could hear your breathing increase along with his own and unconsciously started to lean in until your lips were just moments from touching. 

The cool wetness that seeped into his shirt caused him to break from the trance and jerk away. Looking down at his shirt he realized your melted ice cream was now smeared all over his shirt. 

Your laugh was instant, loud and giddy at the sight of Todoroki’s now ruined shirt. 

--

The third time was to be expected with the romantic setting the two of you had placed yourselves in. 

Todoroki followed behind as you tugged him toward the open field, following just the faintest glow of your body as your quirk helped light the way through the dark. It didn’t stop you from tripping occasionally on the tall grass, but Todoroki was always quick to steady you before continuing down the hill to your favorite spot. 

“Hurry or we will miss it!” You called, letting go of Todoroki’s hand in your attempt to lay out the blanket you brought along. 

It was close to midnight, but luckily neither had school the next day. Even if there was school though, Todoroki doubted you would miss such a big meteor shower. With your quirk came the fascination of any light source and since realizing this fact, Todoroki was sure to keep up to date with all meteor showers. 

He loved to watch the wonder glow on your face as your body faded from light to dark so that you wouldn’t miss the brightness of such a beautiful sight. Laying side by side, he couldn’t keep his eyes away on the shower, too focused on you and how the light played off your face. 

When you turned to look at him, your smile faltered as the little voice in his head once again whispered to kiss them. He knew now that he wanted nothing more than to press his lips to yours, but when he went to lean in like before an extra bright meteor shot by, catching your attention and making Shoto lose his chance once again. 

--

The fourth didn’t happen until it was good and cold, the ground icing over just a bit which caused a slippery walk home for anyone that didn’t drive or ride the train. It was common for Todoroki to walk you home after school and this day wasn’t any different.

He had seen the patch of ice before you did, trying desperately to catch you before you fell. The attempt backfired, causing you to instead trip into him. His back hit the concrete hard, knocking the air out of him for a moment. 

When he finally glanced back to you, your eyes were big with surprise and a blush now covering your cheeks. The pink was a regular thing now, but Shoto couldn’t help being so mesmerized. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, squeezing your hips lightly since you were currently sprawled out on top of him. 

“This is the first big frost of winter, Sho, and I’m already falling for you.” You whispered the joke, smiling lightly down at him. 

Shoto scoffed, “More like I dragged you down with me.” 

The words had meaning behind them since Shoto was currently crushing hard and their compromising situation wasn’t helping his urge to lean up and kiss you. 

“Shoto?” You whispered, leaning down slowly. “Can I-” 

Your words were instantly interrupted by two friends jogging up to ask if the two of you were okay. Todoroki didn’t miss the disappointment swimming in your eyes as you were lifted off his chest.

--

The fifth time was the most shocking, at least to Shoto. 

“It’s an American tradition,” Denki commented, holding up the small bundle in awe. “One of these babies are gonna get me kissed.” 

Todoroki rolled his eyes, “Just because you’re holding up a plant doesn’t mean they will kiss you.” 

Denki shook his head, pointing vehemently at the doorway to the classroom. “I’m gonna hang it up and wait around for someone cute to walk through. You get caught, you pucker up. End of story.” 

Throughout the day, Todoroki had forgotten about the pesky plant, but that didn’t stop him from entering the classroom with you later that afternoon. 

“Wait!” Ochako yelled, but the damage was done. Todoroki and you both stood in the doorway, unaware of the plant dangling just inches above his head. “I was trying to stop you. Kaminari is on a rampage.” 

Denki popped up at that moment, smiling mischievously at the two of you. “Pucker up.”

You glanced briefly at the mistletoe, your cheeks now flushed in Todoroki’s favorite shade of pink. “A mistletoe?” 

Todoroki perked up at the recognition in your voice. He placed a hand on your arm, gently squeezing. “You don’t have to. Denki is just being.. Himself.” Denki made a scoffing noise, but didn’t comment. 

You didn’t answer, instead reaching up on your tiptoes and planting a brief kiss on Todoroki’s cheek. Without another word you turned to rush off to your desk in embarrassment. 

--

Shoto knocked gently on your dorm door, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. It wasn’t often that asked him to come to your room as soon as possible. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to confront him about his obvious crush on you. When you opened the door though all thought of that vanished. 

You stood clad in your favorite lazy pajamas, a board game held tightly in your palms. “I bought a new game.” 

Shoto’s eyes grew as you pulled him quickly into your room and shut the door. He didn’t even get a good look at the game before the two of you were sat across from each other on the floor. 

When you opened the box, he grimaced. “Scrabble? Since when do you like word games?” 

You shrugged, laying out the board and placing the tiles in the correct spot while Shoto collected his own. Without much debate, the two of them began the first game. 

There were jokes thrown back and forth between the two as the game got more complicated and Shoto’s competitive side reared its head. “Wait, that’s two words.” 

Your cheeks flushed with the realization that Todoroki didn’t really understand where you were going with this, just seeing the two words kiss me as a cheat on their part. 

“Sho, are you serious?” You leaned over the board, gesturing once again to the two words you so desperately wanted him to understand. 

“Yes, you can’t use two-” He paused mid sentence as he finally reached the conclusion that you wanted him to act out those two little words. “Ash.”

You leaned even closer, taking this opportunity to be more confident than you usually would, but damn it you were tired of waiting for Shoto to actually kiss you. The two of you had been playing almost for months now, if he was going to kiss you now was the time. 

“Kiss me.” 

Those words echoed in the room, but Shoto didn’t ponder them as his lips finally met yours in a sweet, much anticipated, first kiss.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 52: Aftermath Part 2

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Portions of this installment were written by @msalliepants (the portions featuring Shinji Yoarashi, David Togata, and Shiro Monoma).

Earlier chapters can be found here

As he expected to, Kota found Aizawa in his classroom.  Perhaps it was strange that he still thought of his father-in-law as “Aizawa” and not “Shota” or “Dad”, but if he was pushed to admit it, he still found the man absolutely, pants-wettingly terrifying.  When he talked to him, which was frequently, as they were coworkers, he usually defaulted to “Sir.”

He’d never been entirely sure how much Aizawa actually liked him, despite the fact that he’d been married to his daughter for over ten years.  Of course, considering the first time he’d picked Eri up for a date, he’d been so terrified of Aizawa and his “intimidating dad” routine he’d panicked and punched him in the balls.  That kind of set the tone for their relationship, even if Emi had found it absolutely hilarious.

Kota opened the door to Aizawa’s classroom, where the man was sitting in the dark, staring directly ahead, his sleeping bag laying discarded in one corner of the room.  Aizawa was so still that if he didn’t know better, Kota would have sworn he was dead. He didn’t bother to turn on the lights.

“We’ve been busy on the phones,” he said.  Aizawa didn’t respond or even look his direction.  But he knew the man well enough to know he was always listening, even when he appeared to be ignoring you.  “Checking in with the Agencies.”

He continued.  “I’ve talked to Eri.  She’s fine.  There was a Nomu in one of the areas she had to travel through to get to the hospital, but Can’t Stop Twinkling was there fighting it and Ojiro got her through without it even knowing she was there.”

That, at least, got his attention.   “She took one of my students with her?”

“Ojiro volunteered,” Kota said.  “No combat. Just additional stealth.”

Aizawa frowned.  “I thought she had more sense than that.”

“Desperate times,” he replied.  He wasn’t particularly happy with it himself, but he hadn’t been happy about his wife going out into that insanity to begin with.  But Kota had known Eri long enough to know there was no arguing with her when she’d made up her mind.  It didn’t do any good in the long run and he always ended up sleeping on the couch for at least a week.

There was a long moment of silence, then Aizawa spoke again.  “My children trusted me with theirs, and I let them go out into this insanity.  Nemuri even joked that their Internships couldn’t possibly have been as bad as that of the Problem Child and his friends.  I guess the joke’s on us.”

“Deku and everyone,” Kota said, “they know the kinds of things that can happen in this life. This isn’t your fault.”   That didn’t get him a response.

Aizawa was still staring at him, so he continued.  “The kids are all alive.”  He didn’t use the word “fine,” because almost all of them had been caught up in the Nomu insanity.  “Fine” wasn’t a word you used after something like that.  Kota understood.  He and Eri both had their share of nightmares from their own traumatic childhood experiences.

Kota went on.  “Midoriya, Todoroki, Haimawari, Aoyama, Shoji, Ojiro, both Iidas, Sero, Sato, and Kocho are all uninjured, though some of them saw varying degrees of action.  Tokoyami was hurt earlier in the week and wasn’t anywhere near any of the action and Koda was too far out with Froppy and the Oki Mariner to be involved.”

That was the good news. The rest, well, it got increasingly worse.

“Mineta received a few minor scrapes from falling rubble, but is otherwise okay.  Kaminari is being treated for Quirk Exhaustion after overloading her brain powering a weapon Creati made.”

That got another glare. He suspected Yaoyorozu would be getting an earful.

“Kirishima-Bakugo is being treated for exhaustion as well.  She was directly involved in fighting one of the Nomu protecting Uravity, and then had a poor reaction to seeing her father injured.”

The intensity of Aizawa’s stare increased and Kota actually found himself taking a step back.  He wasn’t a stupid man and what Kota was leaving blank was blindingly obvious.  Aizawa actually got up out of his chair, moving closer to him.  “You’re hedging around something.  What are you hiding?  Get to it.”

“Shota Shinso was there when Ground Zero fought the Nomu.  He saw everything.  He was nearly catatonic by the time Deku got them to the hospital.  They’ve admitted him for observation.”

Aizawa stared at him, a twitch forming in his left eye, his mouth set in a hard line.  “Get out of my way,” he snapped, already shoving past Kota and out into the hallway.

Kota just stared at the empty room for a moment.  “…That actually went better than I thought it would.”

***

Haru Shima had had a busy morning.  When word of the Nomu attacks had gone out, he’d gone straight to the hospital where he worked.  They didn’t live far from it and his Quirk was more than adequate protection against anything that might have been out there.  They’d have plenty of incoming, he knew, and would need all hands on deck, especially if any Heroes were injured.  His husband had already left for the day and would be in the thick of it. Their son had been out there too, working with Cellophane.

He’d forced himself not to think about them, but left strict instructions that, unless he was in the middle of surgery, he was to be contacted if either of them were brought in. And then Izuku had brought Katsuki in, torn to pieces and losing blood fast…

He’d done what he could. Haru was an excellent surgeon, but there were limits, and the damage had been severe.  Not a clean cut, but a mutilation, with damage to the surrounding bone, muscle, and nerves.  That Katsuki hadn’t died was a minor miracle.

He’d been lucky.   Yuga had sustained only minor injuries and would be released today.  Takiyo was fine.  Hanta had bought him time to escape to the relative safety of the Agency.  His son wasn’t exactly happy about having been forced out of the fight, but Haru had detected the fear in his voice when he’d finally been able to speak to him.  

And, of course, he’d had a million texts from Haruko.  Haruko was like him, the only other one in the group of Class A and their spouses who wasn’t at least tangentially involved in Hero work.  Mei was… a delightful, if eccentric woman, but she was closer to it than either of them.   He only tended to see Heroes when they were injured.  So he and Haruko often chatted and talked, often with Monoma’s wife as well, who was also a civilian.

But finally, it all seemed to have abated and he could go home.   At soon as he picked up his husband, anyway.   He pushed open the door to Yuga’s room.  And he stared.  He closed his eyes and counted to ten.  Unfortunately, the sight that greeted him was still the same.

“Yuga,” he said, peering between his fingers, “why do you have a paper bag on your head?”

“I am hideous now, Haru,” Yuga said.  His accent was thicker, the way it always was when he was trying to solicit more sympathy out him.  He placed one hand on the bag; it crinkled under his fingers.  “I must hide my face away from prying eyes, lest my unsightly visage insight the people to riot.”

Visions of Yuga in an opera cloak and a half-mask, badly trying to playing a pipe organ he’d somehow managed to get into their apartment while fog machines spewed their fog, danced in Haru’s mind.  This was going to be the first grey hair all over again.

“Yuga,” he said, “you’re fine.  You got your nose broken.  It was a clean break, it got set in time, and you won’t even have any scars.”

“Non, non, I am hideous, cut down in my prime, Haru.  I can only pray you will not leave me for someone you can bear to look at…”

The things he put up with for the man he loved…

***

Haruto Sero was aware that, even in the world of Quriks, he and his family were an odd looking brood. While his older brother, Takuma, resembled their mother, minus the horns, he mostly looked like their dad, only with horns.  His younger brothers, Yamoto and Ren, were no different.  Yamoto mostly looked like Tamuka, and Ren mostly looked like their dad, except for being blue.  Their little sister, Moji, looked like dark-haired version of Mom.  So the number of eyes that were briefly on them when they entered the cafeteria wasn’t surprising.  But like they always did, the gazes fell just as quickly.

Who knew what the twins would look like?  Mom hadn’t done herself any good getting all stressed and worried about Dad earlier, but both she and the babies were fine now.

Dad was in a… not great way. He’d taken a nasty blow to the head from the Nomu, saved from bigger injuries only by his helmet.  If he hadn’t had that, he’d probably have suffered brain damage.  And he’d probably have been dead if Shoto hadn’t shown up.

While Mom stayed with him, she’d charged Takuma with getting the rest of them something to eat from the cafeteria.  He’d looked less than happy to have his thirteen, eleven, nine, and two year old siblings with him.   Considering he’d once tried to sell Moji to Uncle Rikido, this wasn’t exactly a surprise.

Takuma gestured in the general direction of some tables.  “Yamoto, Ren, take Moji and get us a table.  Me and Haruto will get food.”  He wasn’t looking up from his phone, where he was texting furiously.  Maybe his boyfriend?  Or maybe Kenta and Kimiko?   Haruto didn’t know.

As Takuma went to get real food, he told Haruto to get some drinks.  So he stood in front of the drink case, trying to decide what he should get.  Mom honestly didn’t give a crap about what she ate, always indulging them in their wishes for pop and candy.  It may have explained the number of cavities he’d had over the years.

His eyes widened as a bottle of water floated its way out of the case.  He followed it to where a green-haired girl about his age was standing, phone in her other hand.  Of course she’d be here.  Her mom had gotten hurt too.  And her dad had rescued Ground Zero.  So yeah, no surprise.  Of course. He needed to say something. Something smooth?  No, not the time for that.  Just keep it normal.  Don’t let on that she’s the girl he really liked.

“Hana?” he asked, his voice cracking.  Dammit, puberty!  Why can’t you be cool?

Hana Midoriya looks up from her phone at that.  “Oh, Haruto. Hey.”  She pockets the phone and catches the Quirk-drawn water bottle in her hand.  “How’s your dad?”

“He’s gonna be fine,” he said.  “Took a nasty blow to the head, but he’s fine.  How’s your mom?”

“Same,” Hana replied. “Dad sent us down here to get food. Put King Dork in charge.”  She pointed over to a table—where Yamoto and the others were too—where her older brother, Toshi, and younger sister, Mako were sitting.   Mako gave them a friendly wave, then went back to cooing over Moji.

“Hey, little bro,” Takuma said, coming up behind him, carrying a heavily laden tray, “you getting drinks or not?”    His dark-eyes fell on Hana and recognition dawned on his face.   “Oh, talking to your crush?  Guess those can wait then.”  He chuckled and walked off.

Haruto felt his face go flush with embarrassment.  He was absolutely going to kill his brother!

***

Tsukushi Monoma has long adjusted to being the wife of a Hero. And really, she's more than happy to be supportive of everything that Neito has done in his career. Especially when he was first starting out and struggling. She's made her own Phantom Thief clothes for her and both of their children. She is her husband's biggest cheerleader, and she couldn't be prouder of him and all of his accomplishments.

But there are some days where she wishes that Neito had maybe pursued another career. Today is one of those days.

She had been making lunch for her youngest child, Takeru. They had been chatting to Tsukushi about the new book they were reading, and Tsukushi has been actively engaging in the conversation with them. Takeru was more reserved than Shiro, but they always talked to Tsukushi about the books they were reading.

The television was on in the background. She hadn't really been paying attention, until she noticed that Takeru was looking at the screen, a horrified look on their face.

Concern flashed across Tsukushi's face. "What's the matter, sweetheart?!

Takeru did speak. They just pointed at the screen. Tsukushi turned to face the television.

She wished she didn't.

"Reports of Nomu attacks are coming in from across Tokyo. Heroes are rushing to the scene, including Deku, Red Riot and Real Steel, Phantom Thief, Ground Zero, Shoto, and Lemillion."

Tsukushi's face paled. She'd heard enough about Nomus from Neito to know that they were absolutely horrifying and near impossible to fight. And her husband was out there, fighting them.

Wait...one of the heroes that the reporter had mentioned had been Red Riot. Shiro! Her son was out there, too, fighting these creatures! Of course, Eijiro lived across the street, and was a good friend, and she knew that Shiro was in good hands with Tetsutesu, but she couldn't help but feel worried about her son.

Tsukushi didn't even notice that she shattered the glass in her hand.

"Mom?" Takeru's voice brought her back down to earth. "Are you okay"

Shattered glass was on the floor. Luckily, she hadn't cut her hand up badly, which was good. Just a couple of cuts, and it didn't seem that there were any pieces of glass in her skin. So she wouldn't have to go to the emergency room.

She managed to give them a small smile. "I'm fine, sweetie. I'm just..."

"I'm scared too, Mom."

She wrapped her youngest in a hug. "I can shut it off, if you want."

Takeru shook their head. "No, we can keep it on. I...I want to make sure that Dad and Shiro are safe."

Tsukushi nodded. "Okay."

***

Tsukushi was driving to the hospital, trying to keep her hands steady at the wheel. She'd gotten the call from Kana, Neito was in the hospital. He was going to be fine, but he had at least two broken ribs, and a hairline fracture in his arm. She'd also been informed that Shiro had been admitted too, but he appeared to be fine.

Takeru had a constant pillar of support. They were wise beyond their six years, and Tsukushi was glad that they were with her through everything. She could tell that her youngest was scared, too, but trying to keep a tough face for her.

She pulled into the hospital parking lot. "You ready?"

In a rare show of psychical contact, Takeru extended their hand to her. "Ready."

Hand in hand, she walked hand in hand into the hospital with her youngest.

***

"Oh thank /goodness/ you're safe!" Tsukushi wrapped Shiro in the tightest hug, kissing his cheek.

"Mom!" Shiro blushed. "I'm fine!"

Tsukushi brushed a stray strand of hand out of her son's forehead. "I know, I was just very worried."

Shiro flushed a little. "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. You know I couldn't be prouder or more supportive of you wanting to be a hero. Worrying about you is just something I'll always do, whether you're fifteen or fifty." She kissed the top of his head.

Shiro looked down. "I was so scared, Mom."

Tsukushi gave her son an understanding smile. "I know, sweetheart. And that's okay. Everyone gets scared sometimes."

Shiro nodded. Tsukushi squeezed his hand. "Now let's go check on your father, okay?"

***

"Neito!" It took everything Tsukushi had to not run and embrace her husband. She'd seen him beaten up before, but nothing like this.

Neito offered her and the kids a small smile. "Ah, there's my wonderful family."

Tsukushi gave him a smile. "Your wonderful family is just glad to see you safe."

"Oh?" He smiled at her playfully. "Did I worry you?"

She laughed. "Yes, you did, and you are never allowed to do that again."

Neito smiled at her. "I'll try my best."

Tsukushi smiled. Her family, while a little beaten up, was safe. And that was all she could ask for.

***

Shinji was standing outside of Katsumi's hospital room, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers. He didn't regret leaving Shiketsu the sudden way that he did, but from how Red Riot had explained it to him, he still had to call his parents. That was what made him nervous. His father, the number eight hero, Gale Force, had to be on the hero, as Shinji knew that his dad would have jumped into action the second the attack happened. Which likely meant that his mother, the number fourteen hero, Hurricane, had been with him.

Shinji didn't know which one was scarier. His dad was a pretty happy, loud, outgoing, cheerful guy for the most part, and his mother, while more reserved, was usually fairly calm and easygoing. However, seeing them angry was something he wasn't looking forward to.

Shinji sighed, just as Red Riot stepped out of the room after talking to Katsumi. The hero gave him a smile, and patted him on the shoulder.

"I don't know if I told you this, but what you did was pretty manly."

Shinji perked up, smiling widely at him "It was?"

Red Riot slapped him on the back. "Hell yeah! Rushing off to make sure your friends were okay is really manly! However, you don't have a hero license, so you were risking a lot. But you saved my little girl! I talked to your parents, and made clear to tell them that, so hopefully, they go easy on you."

Shinji laughed. "Yeah... hopefully."

Red Riot gave him a hug. "I gotta go check on my husband, but feel free to hang here until your parents get here, okay?"

Shinji nodded, not really having any words for once in his life. "Yeah, okay."

***

Shinji managed to track down Izzy, Mika, and Shota while he waited for his parents. Izzy, while exhausted, was fine. Mika had gotten a couple of bruises, but said that he could give her a full body inspection if he wanted to. Unfortunately, her parents arrived and kicked him out before he could. As for Shota, well, Shinji couldn't remember ever seeing his little friend so upset. Shinji hated that there didn't seem to be anything he could do to keep him from blaming himself for what happened to Ground Zero.

Shinji was making his way to check on Katsumi again when he felt a gust of wind, and found himself being locked into a hug, and picked off up the ground.

"I AM SO ANGRY AND PROUD OF YOU!" Dad's voice bellowed in his ears, setting him down.

Shinji took a moment to catch his breath, looking at his father, who appeared to be smiling...while also fighting an eye twitch.

"Hey, Dad," Shinji said sheepishly. "I know that probably wasn't the smartest idea, but I was so worried about my girlfriend and my friends and I-"

His father laughed, whacking him on the back. "I SHOULD BE FLYING IN RAGE AT YOU FOR DOING SOMETHING SO RECKLESS BUT YOU SAVED KATSUMI! I AM FILLED WITH FATHERLY PRIDE!"

Shinji beamed. Dad was proud of him. That meant he wasn't going to get in trouble, right?

He spoke too soon.

"SHINJI YOARASHI!"

An angry female voice came from the hallway, and peaking around Dad, Shinji could see his mother, Sakura, walking towards them. Though she was significantly shorter than the both of them, the look in her eyes was one of pure rage.

Oh, she was /pissed/.

Dad laughed putting an arm around Mom's shoulder. "Now, Sakura, I was just telling Shinji how proud we are of him, and how we're not angry."

Mom gave Dad a /look/. "Oh, we're mad."

"Okay, we're mad...but he's not in trouble!"

Mom narrowed her eyes. "Oh, he's in trouble." She turned her gaze to Shinji. "You. Are. GROUNDED."

Shinji looked at his feet, feeling like he was suddenly five years old. "Yes, Mom."

Dad laughed. "But honey, he saved Katsumi, and we should be proud!"

Mom's face softened a little bit. "Of course I'm proud. Shinji, what you did was very brave However, what you did was also reckless and stupid. You're just a student, and you don't have a hero license yet. You could've been arrested. You could've gotten yourself and Katsumi seriously hurt or killed. These kinds of actions have to consequences, so for you're grounded for two months."

Shinji gasped. "Two months?!"

"Do you want your original punishment? Because it was going to be a year on my way over here."

"Two months is fine."

Mom smiled, wrapping him in a hug. "I thought so. Now, I'll let you say goodbye to your friends, but after that, we're leaving. Okay?"

Shinji nodded. He could take being grounded. In the end, he knew he did the right thing helping his friends when they needed him.

***

David Togata doesn't get worried easily. His parents often said that out of his siblings, he was the most rational. He's seen his father and his Uncle Izuku get injured a fair amount of times, and they always made it looked like it wasn't something to really worry about. No matter how bad things got, you just carried on with a smile.

David wasn't smiling right now. He had been in the workshop with Ms. Hatsume as part of his support internship when the news about the Nomu attacks came in. Right away, the pair had turned on the television, where shots of Dad and Uncle Izuku fighting them came in. Dad looked like his hand had been broken, and Uncle Izuku looked more stressed out that he'd even seem him.

Actually, David had never seen either one of them looked stress.

Shots panned in and out of different heroes around the city fighting the Nomus. His oldest brother, Tamaki, fighting the Nomus with The Voice and Glamour, his body cackling with green energy. His sister, Nejire, with the Laughing Man, downtown.

Ms. Hatsume stared at the screen, her face pale. "My babies..."

That was right. Both of her children, the twins, were out doing their internships, as well. So was her husband.

David reach forward and grabbed her hand. They were going to have a rough couple of hours.

***

David arrived at the hospital with Ms. Hatsume. They gotten reports that her husband had been admitted, along with David's father and siblings. None of them had any major injuries, but still, the worry was present. When they got in the lobby, Ms. Hatsume gave him a quick hug and wished him luck, before rushing off to find his family.

David found his family in a hospital room where his sister was being treated. His father had his broken hand wrapped up. Tamaki had a few scratches, but that quirk of his made him really sturdy. Nejire was in the bed, her ankle elevated and in a cast, and a bandage around her head. His mother sat next her on the bed, stroking her hair.

Dad beamed at him. "David!" He sprung up from his seat and wrapped him in a hug. "It looks like the whole family is here now!"

David smiled, returning the hug. "I came with Ms. Hatsume." He looked over at Nejire. "What happened to your ankle?"

Nejire giggled. "It's nothing! It's just a little broken. And I might have gotten a teeny tiny concussion."

Tamaki smirked at him. "Nejire's on painkillers. She's super loopy right now."

"I am not!" Nejire pouted at him.

David rolled his eyes. His siblings were ridiculous sometimes. "Glad no one got super injured."

Mom smiled. "That's the best we can hope for. Everyone's a little singed up, but we'll be okay.'

Nejire giggled again. "Well, I better heal up soon, because I cannot take Hayai on the date with my ankle like this."

At the word "date", Dad's eyes lit up. "Ooooooh, you got a date!?"

David laughed. Dad was constantly trying to set all three of them up with someone.

Nejire started going on about a girl in her class she'd asked out. Tamaki and Mom laughed, teasing Dad about being too involved in his kids' love life.

David smiled, finding a chair and relaxing into it. Yeah, his family could be a little much sometimes, but he wouldn't trade them for anything, and he was glad they were safe.

***

Izuku was tired, bone wearily tired.  Not from the physical exertion of the morning—the power of One for All made sure of that.  He was connected to it on a level not even All Might had ever achieved and had had ample opportunity to build its power over the years.  Certainly, his joints ached.  They always did.  And his right arm always hurt, no matter what else he did.  Even with his mastery of his inherited Quirk, the old damage he’d done to his body could not be undone.  But he had learned to live with that pain, to smile and to embrace all the good that was in his life.

That was not why he was tired.

No, he was tired in ways that went way beyond the physical.  

Ochaco was resting peacefully in the hospital bed.  They’d allowed her to be up to check on Katsumi, but insisted she get more rest. She’d taken a nasty blow to the head, but was expected to make a full recovery and be back in action in maybe a couple weeks.  He’d sent Toshi, Hana, and Mako down to the cafeteria to get something to eat, leaving him alone to sit by her bedside, alone with his thoughts.

He wore scrubs, offered by the hospital, since his costume had been covered in blood.  Someone from his agency had collected it for cleaning. Either that or he’d handed it off to someone who was now selling it on MeBay.  Things had been a bit of a blur after he’d arrived.

It looked like there were going to be a lot of people home in their neighborhood, at least for a time.   Denki, Ochaco, Neito, and, of course, Kacchan…  And more across the city.  So many of his friends had been hurt.

There were burdens that came with being the Number One (and occasionally Number Two, when Mirio had a particularly impressive run of things) Hero.  And there were burdens that came with being the Symbol of Hope.   Not the Symbol of Peace, like Dad had been, but the Symbol of Hope.  Of inspiring others to believe, not in him, but that evil could be beaten and that good men and women could stand up, that everyone had the potential within them to make the world a better place, in some way.  It demanded much of his time, exposed his family to significant scrutiny.

Before he had finished his third year of U.A., he and his friends had broken the back of the League of Villains and put an end to the legacy of All for One forever.  The same year he had lost his father in a plane crash. It had been a hell of a year.  But it had also rocketed him towards the top on a meteoric trajectory that he still couldn’t believe, even decades later.

They’d built a better world. One where the threat of Villains was not so constant.  They’d settled down, raised families, and looked to the future of a new generation of Heroes.

In an instant, when the Nomu had appeared, the fears of childhood had returned.  They had suspected that someone was making a play for power.  The Quirk Virus, the theft of the Nomu corpse, the breaking of Plague out of prison (Had he so badly misjudged the man?  An escape made no sense at all…), it all added up to something far more sinister and larger than any of them had grappled with in years.  

And then the messages and reports had started pouring in.  From various Agency dispatches, from news drones, even from men and women on the street.  It hadn’t just been the one.  It had been so many more.  The Heroes of Tokyo and surrounding wards had come together to fight the Nomu, but they had paid a terrible price for it.    So many of his friends were injured.  Even Ochaco…   And Kacchan…

Despite what he had told himself as a child and a teenager, he and Kacchan had not always been friends. It had taken him a long time to realize the way he’d been treated had been far from okay.  But the two of them had made true amends and become real friends. He’d even been Kacchan’s best man at his wedding.

So many of their children had seen action during the morning’s events.  They’d been extraordinarily lucky that none of them had been seriously injured.  Not like their own Internships.  But almost all of them had been far too close to the action for his comfort.  Toshi claimed he was fine, but Izuku suspected he was putting on a brave face. And Haimawari and Kocho didn’t even have the kind of context Toshi did.  He hoped they weren’t scared off.  There was so much potential in both of them.

He, his friends, and the other Heroes who had taken their children on as Interns were handing them back to U.A. a broken group.  But he knew Aizawa and the staff would do what they could for them.  His alma mater took the mental health of its students very seriously now.  As parents, they would do their part too.  They had lived through experiences just as terrifying.  Maybe their words of wisdom would be enough.

The news was saying that he had saved the city this morning.  And maybe he had.  But he hadn’t been there for his friend when it had mattered most.  Hadn’t been there for a lot of his friends when they’d been hurt.  For his wife.  What was the point of having all this power, of being a Hero, if he couldn’t help those closest to him when it really mattered?

They would all tell him that he couldn’t, shouldn’t be everywhere.  That was the kind of thinking that had lead society to depend upon Dad more than it should have and had made it vulnerable when he’d no longer been capable of being that pillar.  And yes, it was likely his actions had kept Kacchan from dying in the streets.  That probably would have broken poor Shota even more than he already was.

What kind of Hero, what kind of Symbol was he, if an evil great enough to do all this still existed?

It didn’t mean he didn’t feel like a failure all the same.

Like…

It made him feel like…

Like a useless deku.