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sarahowritesostucky · 9 days

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📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt 8

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control, humiliation, omorashi

Summary: Bucky Barnes is young, confused, and conflicted - a real "rebel without a cause" type. His parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

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Part 8

"Extended Suppressant Use in the Omega Patient: a literature review" (Mueller et al. 2019)

The bathroom incident does not give Steve high hopes of an easy first week with Barnes. Many new students wind up requiring extra attention in their early days at the school, so Steve is honestly surprised when he isn’t paged that Tuesday with a similar fiasco. He’s outright impressed when Wednesday and then most of Thursday passes by with no incidents, either. Whatever Sharon’s doing, it must be working well.

Steve can’t say he doesn’t think about the boy regardless. He can’t help but remember their encounter in the bathroom; holding him down and dominating him into submission, pressing on his belly until he finally lost control. The sounds of the boy’s sweet whimpers are burned into Steve’s memory, the earthy and lightly floral hints of his scent still so easy to draw up in his mind. It’s a good thing that this is a busy week for Steve, otherwise he’d hate to think of how much more preoccupied he’d be by thoughts of his new omega charge.

As it is, his schedule is chock full, his time eaten up with all of his normal headmaster duties (which are considerable), seeing through the end stages of the Academy’s formal division between the girls’ and boys’ sides, and a renovation that they’ve got going on in the south wing corridor. All of that, coupled with the small squabbles that Peggy manages to come up with on an almost daily basis, helps to keep Steve’s mind occupied. And on top of everything, there’s still a lot to be done for the upcoming parents’ weekend.

He spends most of that Thursday morning dealing with matters directly related to the event that is, in essence, their biggest fundraiser of the year. All day, he's coordinating with his faculty; making sure that everything’s been ordered, scheduled, and arranged just how it needs to be to give the right impression to their guests, provide the right experience.

It’s crucial that all of the right people be well taken care of over the three day weekend, in order to ensure that their endowments to the school keep flowing in. Steve liaises with his staff over the details of the family picnic, the various assemblies and presentations that will be made, the planned activities for each afternoon and dinners that’ll be hosted each evening, and—perhaps most important of all—the formal presentation ball that caps off the weekend of festivities. This year they’re having a few ice sculptures flown in from Edinburgh. Silly in Steve's view, but a classic touch of extravagance that the guests will appreciate.

European nobility, old-money aristocrats, and even some high profile celebrities have been known to show up to the school’s annual matchmaking ball, always seeking amenable, traditional omega mates for themselves. And when your guest lists regularly include names like Vanderbilt, Kennedy, and Stark, good first impressions become very expensive and very necessary. Last term, a Greek shipping heir worth billions had scooped up one of the graduating class’ students, and once news of that had gotten around, enrollment for the next semester skyrocketed.

Steve takes great pride in the academic education provided by his school, but he’s also a realist: He knows that parents place high value on the promise of even a chance for their offspring to be so suitably matched. That, along with the behavioral outcomes the school is known for achieving, is a big reason why many families elect to send their sons to Carter Academy over other, similar schools on the continent.

With so much to get done, Steve doesn’t get around to eating his lunch that day until well into the afternoon. He eats alone at his desk—a decision that has very little to do with the fact that he can monitor the school’s video surveillance system from his desktop computer. It’s not because he wants to check up on Bucky and hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kid since Monday. Nope, not at all. Steve always uses the camera system to check in on the happenings around campus, it’s nothing new. And it’s good practice, anyway. A headmaster needs to be involved in his school for it to run smoothly.

If Bucky’s seventh period class is gym, and the gymnasium is the first area Steve decides to check, well that’s just happenstance.

He logs into the system and scrolls through the long list of camera views. He has the most heavily trafficked areas bookmarked, but there are hundreds to choose from, every inch of the Academy’s buildings and grounds monitored by the StarkTec cameras.

Carter Academy has its own dedicated security team to keep an eye on things, of course. Rumlow and his men do a very good job of making sure the close to three hundred hormonal teenage boys that the school houses stay in line. Every year there are inevitably fights, students caught in each other’s bedrooms at the wrong hours for the wrong reasons, or a few runaways who gravely underestimate the distance and terrain between Carter Academy and the nearest town. Nothing that isn’t always quickly remedied, but parents appreciate the close eye that Steve and the rest of his administration are able to keep on their children at all hours of the day.

He navigates to the camera views of the gymnasium and sports complex. The majority of students get scheduled for some sort of physical activity at the end of each school day. Exercise is important for omega bodies, and the gym period is thus positioned after all academic lessons have concluded, to allow for the running off of excess energy. It’s a time when their Handlers can take their well-deserved breaks. With only Mr. Odinson and the other Phys-ed staff looking after so many boys, gym period can get quite chaotic, and it predictably takes Steve a few moments to locate Bucky in the throng.

Eventually he sees him: loitering off to one side of the indoor soccer field, half heartedly kicking a ball back and forth with the Parker boy. He’s changed into his gym uniform, though he hardly seems to be exerting himself. Rather, he’s in deep conversation with Parker, which Steve is happy to see. Every first year student coming into Carter Academy usually struggles at first, but it’s always a good sign when they make friends quickly. Parker, who can normally be found bouncing off the complex’s obstacle courses, seems to have dialed it down a notch to hang out with Bucky, the two of them talking animatedly between themselves. Steve even catches Bucky smiling a time or two, which lifts his hopes that the kid will assimilate well into his new routine. Perhaps this won’t be as hard as he’d imagined.

“Sir?”

He flicks off the monitor when his secretary knocks at the door. “Yes?”

“Ms. Carter here to see you, Sir.”

Sharon comes in, and the two of them hold their pre-planned meeting about Barnes’ first days on campus and how Sharon has assessed his needs so far. Barnes is attitudinal, but Sharon seems to be amused by him, more than anything else. She hands over her recommendations for protocol, telling Steve that she’s not sure a male handler wouldn’t be in the boy’s best interest.

“Oh?” Steve raises an eyebrow as he’s perusing her checkmarks along the list. “Why do you say that?”

“You’ve seen what a handful he can be,” Sharon drawls. “Not that I don’t think I can handle him, but he responds more submissively to the male staff, and I think he’s primarily same-sex oriented.”

“You think?” Bucky’s transcripts from his old school had noted that he was equally as promiscuous with boys as he was with girls.

“Yes. And after Monday’s bathroom incident, I think he might do better with a man.” At the mention of ‘the bathroom incident’, Sharon fixes him with a meaningful look. “He responded well with you.”

Steve nods, flipping through the assessment packet. “Yes, well I am the headmaster. They tend to kowtow faster to me.” He tries to think of which male Handlers he has available at the moment. Typically, he doesn't over-prioritize students’ attractions when placing them with a Handler, as romantic attachment is something to be avoided at all costs, but if it’s a behavioral issue that can be corrected with something as simple as the gender of an assigned Handler, then Steve will consider it. “Thank you Sharon,” he tells her, once they’ve wrapped up the meeting. “It sounds like he’s doing alright, so I’ll keep him with you for now.”

“You’re the boss.”

“Alas, yes.” Steve sighs and so does Sharon, mocking him in a friendly sort of way. When she heaves a genuinely heavy inhale and declares that she has to 'get back to the grind', Barnes’ seventh period is almost over, Steve steps in. “Why don't I take him off your hands for the evening?” he suggests. Sharon looks pleased, but not overly surprised, her knowing smirk making Steve feel the need to defend himself, “It’s been a few days now, I should check in with him.”

“Sure.”

Steve frowns at her continued smug expression. “He’s got an appointment with the doc I need to escort him to, anyways.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Sharon is still smirking when she bids him farewell, leaving the office to take the rest of her day off.

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes. Whatever. He’s not giving Bucky any more attention than he’d give any other troubled new student. He grabs the boy’s folder and rolls out from his desk, planning to head for the gymnasium complex and intercept him there.

… If he checks his reflection in the little mirror by the door on his way out, it’s only because he always does that and it's habit at this point. It’s the professional thing to do, to make sure one looks put together before heading back out in public. Certainly it doesn’t have anything to do with how he’s heading out to deal with Barnes. That’s just happenstance.

Seeing Bucky again after several days is refreshing, and seeing him being friendly with another student brings a literal smile to Steve’s face. This is a good sign. It bodes well for how Bucky will do adapting to his new life.

Peter Parker can be hyperactive and spirited, but he’s a sweet boy at heart with a solid head on his shoulders and a brain between his ears that he actually chooses to use more often than not. He’s done well in the Academy’s program, and he’ll be an excellent person for Bucky to attach himself to during his time here. Steve stands by the gymnasium door with a delighted smirk on his face, because he really couldn’t have chosen better himself.

The boys still have a few minutes left to their gym period when Steve gets there, so he leaves them to their uninspired soccer ball kicking and goes to touch base with Odinson in the athletic director’s office. Thor is all smiles and has nothing negative to say about any of the boys, as per usual, and Steve thanks him and tells him to make a note that perhaps Barnes could be encouraged to put a little more effort in and try out the parkour courses or the rock walls with Parker, moving forward.

He intercepts Bucky just as he’s coming out of the locker rooms. His hair is curling at the edges after having showered (amusing—the boy was barely exerting himself) and changed back into his regular uniform. The relaxed expression falls right off of his face when he sees Steve standing there. “Oh,” he says, coming up short. “You.”

Steve smiles indulgently. “Yes, I’m afraid. Me.”

“Hey Bucky I’ll see you at dinner maybe?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says distractedly, eyes still on Steve. “Sounds good.”

Parker heads off with his handler—Natasha, Steve notes, one of the very best and most dominant females he keeps on staff. "Making friends?" Steve asks.

Bucky ignores the question. “Why’re you here?” he asks mulishly, as Steve begins escorting him in the direction of the medical office. “Where’s Sharon?”

“Sharon’s taking a well-deserved break,” Steve drawls. "She and I had a progress meeting about you in my office, just now.”

Bucky gets tightlipped then and doesn’t say anything, but Steve can see the wheels and cogs turning in his head as he wonders what was said about him. “She had mostly good or neutral things to report,” Steve offers, figuring the boy could use some reassurance. “But of course, I already knew from our interaction on Monday that you're having some difficulties adapting to school protocol.”

Bucky scowls at the floor as they walk. “Just because I don’t like pissing in front of people every day,” he grumbles. “At least we get some privacy to shit around here. Go figure.”

Steve laughs, then decides to strike the fear of God into the boy by remarking, “Oh, that’s a privilege that can be stripped away, too, if needed,” as they approach the end of the hall where the medical offices are. Bucky’s eyes shoot up to him, wide as saucers, and Steve snickers. “Yeah, I know. A true case of a ‘this is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you’ punishment, that’s for certain.”

Bucky all but ‘meeps!’ and Steve snickers and puts a hand on his back to guide him into the office. “Appointment for James Barnes,” he tells the receptionist, who immediately starts checking the computer screen.

Bucky turns on Steve, leery, as he gets a look at their surroundings. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

Steve ignores him until he’s gotten the go ahead from the receptionist and is guiding Bucky back towards one of the exam areas. “Just a check up. Standard practice for incoming students.” He pushes Bucky into the curtained off area and draws the curtain around to Bucky’s squawks of protest.

“What?! I don’t need to see anybody. I’m totally healthy.”

“That’s the goal. But we need to get you checked out, make sure there’s nothing that needs addressed.” Bucky opens his mouth to complain again, but Steve beats him to the chase, bending to pick him up by the waist and depositing his protesting butt onto the exam table. “Sit.”

“Hey!” Bucky’s scowling, but Steve doesn’t miss the light flush in his face at having been manhandled and reminded of his size and comparative weakness in the face of an alpha like Steve. He doesn’t try to get off the table at least, only shifting in annoyance and making the paper cover crinkle under his butt. “Could’a done it myself,” he grumbles.

Steve shakes his head fondly. “We need to get you examined. Behave, or I’ll have no problem with disciplining you while you’re under my care." Bucky goes tight-lipped at that. Steve nods in satisfaction. "Good."

“When’s Sharon coming back?”

“I told you: she’s been given a well-deserved night off. You’re with me until bedtime, young lady.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head. What might’ve been considered affectionate a generation ago, now elicits only indignation and pushback. It’s sad. “Just behave for the doctor, will you?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but when the nurse arrives and introduces herself, he’s generally obedient as she runs through his medical history with him. He speaks more quietly when answering the questions about his sexual health, but Steve doesn't get the sense that he's lying—only that he doesn't want Steve to overhear. (Steve still hears everything, including the boy's very reluctant answer of having had "thirty something" past sexual partners).

Far from evoking displeasure, it mostly just makes Steve sad for the boy. Omegas may have very high sex drives, but they don't fare well in promiscuous situations. Bucky's lack of a reliable partner is probably one of the major contributors to his present mental health issues.

Steve remains quiet and allows Bucky his illusion of privacy on the other side of the curtained off area. The nurse listens to Bucky's heart and lungs, charts his blood pressure and other vitals, and takes a blood draw. It isn’t until she hands him a privacy sheet and tells him to undress below the waist that he kicks up a fuss. “What?"

“The doctor will be right in to do the pelvic exam.”

“What? No. Why?!”

Used to tantrums, the nurse completely disregards him and looks to Steve. “Headmaster?”

“I’ve got him.” The nurse nods and leaves, and Bucky starts to move to try and get off the exam table. Steve rolls his eyes and goes over and pushes him back into place. “Not so fast, son. Now if you can’t behave we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

“What’s the hard way?”

“Strapped face down on a bench,” he tells him, no-nonsense (though really, that's the easier way for omegas. He just knows Bucky will fight it more). “And that'll earn you a guaranteed spanking in my office, after.”

Bucky growls an angry little omega growl at him, “Why do I have to do this? What’s the friggin’ point?!”

With his hands clamped on Bucky’s shoulders, Steve bends down and gets in his face. “Because you were popping suppressants for two years, Honey. That stuff can cause all sorts of problems.”

“No it can’t!”

Steve ignores him and gives him a warning look to keep him in place. He reaches down and pulls one of the exam table’s metal stirrups out, which makes the kid even more visibly upset.

When Steve reaches under the skirt of his uniform to get his underwear down, Bucky growls and tries to kick him, nearly kneeing him right in the nose. Oh. That does it. Steve gives up on playing nice, standing up and grabbing him, using one hand to scruff him while he wraps the other around his waist. “Okay, bud. That was your one chance. If you’re gonna be difficult, we’ll do it your way. Let’s go.”

“Nngh! Lemme go!”

“Calm down, Honey. Stop fighting, it’s not going to work.”

The kid whimpers and goes limp for a few seconds from the endorphins of the scruff, but still wiggles in Steve’s arms once he’s manhandled him into the next exam room over—where there’s an exam bench quite similar in function to a traditional spanking bench. Bucky balks when he sees it. “No! Wait!” It takes laughably little effort to get the boy face down on the bench. Steve gets him strapped to it, and by the time he’s removing his underwear and securing his ankles, all the fight has left Bucky and he’s begging instead. “Please, Mr. Rogers. I’m really sorry.”

Steve grabs the room’s extra chair and pulls it over to sit by his head. “I know Buck. This won’t take long. Just try to relax.”

“Please lemme up. I’m sorry. I’ll go back. I’ll do it the other way, I will!”

“Can’t do that, Sweetheart. We need to check that everything’s alright and you’ve proven to me that you can’t be trusted to hold still.” He might’ve considered the request to go back and ‘do it the other way’, if he didn’t already know full well that the prone position is much more soothing for omegas to be in. “This’ll be better,” he promises. “It’ll help you stay relaxed. It feels nice to be strapped in like this, yeah?”

“But I don’t want tooo,” Bucky whines, not refuting Steve’s statement, and with less fight in him as he realizes that he’s been stripped of all control. “It’s embarrassing.”

Steve smiles sadly and pets his face. “It’s for your own good, Sweetheart. Something every omega has to do. The doctor’s just going to come in and use a tool to examine you and make sure everything’s alright. It’ll hardly take a minute.”

Bucky sniffles and turns his face into Steve’s hand, nuzzling his inner wrist and subconsciously seeking out the alpha’s scent for comfort. “Will it hurt?” he whispers.

Steve’s heart constricts—both at the question and the scenting behavior. “No, Honey. Of course not. Haven’t you ever had a reproductive health exam?” It’s supposed to be a standard part of healthcare after an omega’s first heat, but with only two beta parents in the home, Steve doesn’t know why he’s surprised. “It won’t hurt,” he reassures him. “Just relax down against the bench and be good from now on, and we won’t do a punishment spanking after, okay?”

“Really?” Bucky is clearly motivated by this promise, as he stops sniveling as much and nods when the doctor comes in. “Okay,” he says quietly, and Steve smiles and praises him,

“Good girl.”

The school’s doctor is a calm and friendly beta male, and though he doesn’t make any attempt to ascertain Bucky’s consent or opinion on what they’re doing there today, he does speak calmly to Bucky and talk him through each and every step of what happens, before it happens. Steve stays sitting right in front of Bucky the whole time, holding his hand and keeping his own wrist up by Bucky’s face so that the boy can continue to use his scent to self-soothe.

Bucky goes red in the face as soon as the doctor flips his uniform up and starts palpating and examining his genitals. Even though Bucky's almost certainly trying his absolute best not to get aroused, the faint scent of slick still hits the air after only a moment or two, and he cringes and whines in embarrassment. "Hngh ..."

“It’s okay,” Steve murmurs, trying to placate him with the words and a gentle rumble in his chest. “It’s completely normal to have a reaction. The doc's used to it. No big deal.” Frankly, for an omega to be touched between their legs and not become aroused would be cause for concern. They’re so sensitive down there that it’s to be virtually expected. But Steve can tell that this is little comfort to Bucky, who goes even redder in the face when the doctor hums in agreement and makes an additional comment about Bucky's arousal responses being healthy.

“I’m going to prep the speculum now,” he tells Bucky. “It’ll be cool and hard, but it won’t hurt you.”

Bucky whines in mortification, his eyes clenching shut. Steve shushes him and pets his hair, which he seems to like because he pushes into it and untenses somewhat. Steve knows the precise second that the speculum goes in though, because Bucky's eyes pop right back open and he makes a small, shocked sound of, “Oh!"

Steve cups his face and tries to keep his attention. “Hey, you’re doing so good,” he praises, swiping his thumb at the corner of the omega’s eye, right where an overwhelmed tear has broken out. “Doesn’t hurt, right?”

Bucky trembles and shakes his head. “N-no.” He whimpers when the doctor does something from behind, and then his eyes go a little unfocused. “Oh …” The next time he whines, it’s verging a little closer to a moan of pleasure than one of sheer worry. “Ohnn… nngh, just … mmm, s’weird.”

Steve tuts sympathetically, slightly aroused himself at seeing Bucky react this way. He clears his throat and tries to remain professional. “I know, Sweetheart, I know it’s a lot. Just hang in there for me.” He meets the doctor’s eyes from over Bucky’s back, shooting him an anxious look.

The doctor nods. “Everything seems fine, Headmaster Rogers. He’s just a little swollen.”

“Swollen?” Steve straightens, concerned. “Is it bad? He was on oral suppressants for about two years.”

The doctor smirks and shakes his head. “No, not that kind of swollen, Sir.”

“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders untense. "I see." He's maybe read a few too many medical journal articles since Bucky told him on Monday that he'd been on suppressants. "Good. That's ... good."

The doctor hums and looks back down, examining Bucky for another long moment before humming in approval and removing the speculum. Bucky’s back slumps and he makes another tiny noise—this time one of relief. “Is it over?”

The doctor pats his hip with an approving nod. “He’s a healthy boy. Nothing to indicate any lasting effects from the medication.” Over Bucky’s back, he meets Steve’s eyes again. “The risk for complications doesn’t go up very high until after the five year mark. We’ll wait on his bloodwork, but I expect it’ll all come back normal.”

“Oh, good.” Steve can’t help but be relieved. He’s definitely read too many articles, seen too many students come through the school's infirmary with much more serious side effects. “So no chance of infertility?”

“Very low,” the doctor reassures, even as Bucky makes a hurt little sound of concern over hearing that possibility. The doctor rolls his stool out from behind Bucky, pulling off his exam gloves and tossing them in the waste bin. “Nope. He looks perfectly normal, Headmaster, both inside and out. From the state of things I’d say he’s about midway through his cycle. So you can expect a heat within the next two weeks.”

Steve nods. “Yes, he reported as much. He's used an app for tracking on his phone.”

“Oh. Would you email that data?” The doctor is already standing and heading for the curtain that divides their little area from the rest of the room. “It’ll be good to have in his records.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, doc.”

“Of course.” At the edge of the exam area, he looks back at Steve. “Ahm … he’s fairly aroused right now.”

Steve smirks. “I know.”

“Right.” The doctor glances back at Bucky, then to Steve. “I can send one of the nurses in, if you have anywhere to be.”

Steve shakes his head and dismisses the man. “That’s alright. He’s mine for the evening. I’ll handle it.”

Reassured, the doctor nods and ducks out around the curtain. He’s barely gone for a second before Bucky’s shifting in place on the table. “Um, Mr. Rogers?”

Steve looks back down. Bucky is blinking at him, flustered and uncertain. Steve pats his shoulder. “You did really well, Bucky.” He stands up and goes behind him, over to the room’s glove dispenser. He pulls out one of the large sized nitrile gloves and pulls it on. “How’re you feeling?”

“Uhm. Okay.” Bucky can’t see him from his position, so he wiggles impatiently. “Can you help me to, erm, get off of here?”

“Hmm.” Steve walks over and sits on the doctor’s abandoned rolling stool. He rolls to Bucky’s side, popping into his field of vision and giving him a knowing look. “You sure you don’t want help with this first?” At ‘this’, he lets his gloved hand touch Bucky’s flank, edging closer to his exposed backside. He watches as the boy's eyes widen and his cheeks colors anew. “It’s okay to ask for help,” he reassures. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Bucky lies.

Steve arches an eyebrow. “You sure? Masturbation isn’t allowed. Did you remember that rule? You need to ask the staff if you need release.”

Bucky huffs angrily. “Why not? Why do we have to ask you guys? Why can’t we just—”

Steve taps his ass lightly, more to get his attention than anything else. “Submission, Honey. We’ve been over this already. That’s what everything here comes back to: learning to depend on somebody who can take care of you and give you what you need. You have strong sexual urges, and that’s okay. It’s completely natural. But you need to learn to turn to your alpha to get your needs met., otherwise they never fully will be.”

Bucky pouts. “You’re not my alpha.”

“That collar around your neck says different. And so does the paperwork your parents signed.” Bucky's face twists into a frustrated moue, stubborn little thing. Steve sighs. “Hey, I know you didn't choose this. I’m your official alpha right now, but one day you’ll find someone you actually want to be with, someone you want to marry and have a family with. All these rules you're learning are just to help you adopt healthy habits. So you can model correct relationship patterns.”

"I already do."

Steve snorts. "Honey, casually sleeping with 'thirty-something' people by your age is not a healthy relationship pattern."

"You just want us all to be lily white virgins."

Steve rolls his eyes as he rolls the stool farther back towards Bucky’s backside. "Certainly not. But hookup culture only serves irresponsible alphas and betas. It doesn't do anything to help you guys with your needs for bonding hormones."

"Another scientific study?" Bucky sneers.

"You got it." Steve looks down, a quick glance showing him what he already knew he’d find: a wet and swollen, little pink rim, clenching hard on nothing. He tuts sympathetically. "Oof. That looks painful."

“Hey, don’t … don’t look,” Bucky complains.

“Oh, hush.” Steve pats his butt—he really does have the sweetest little ass. “You’re very beautiful, Bucky. Every part of you is.”

That, right there, is Steve stepping over the line. Oh, he’s got no qualms about personally appreciating the form of an attractive young omega student, it’s only natural for him to find Bucky beautiful. What’s less appropriate is him commenting on it. Because, to be blunt, not every student in Steve’s care is traditionally attractive. Steve’s still responsible for helping them all equally, and thus it’s always been his policy to avoid complimenting students on their looks when possible. It avoids hurt feelings, subverts any competition between the students who are more naturally prone to jealousy over their shared Alpha headmaster.

But the words are out of his mouth before he can think better of it, and Bucky reacts obviously in the way that he flushes and squirms, instinctively pleased at being approved of in such a way. Steve decides that, since it’s just the two of them alone, he might as well let his guard down a little bit. Bucky’s shown a propensity for skewed thinking, after all, and he needs to be helped to form a positive self image. “You’ve got a lovely body, Buck. Even here.” At ‘here’, he lets his thumb dip a little further into his crack, not touching his hole, but pulling his cheek out enough to get a really good look at the sweet little clench of his rim. Steve hums appreciatively. “Just like the doc said: very healthy.”

Bucky whines and squirms. “Let me up.”

“I can do that. But you’re very wet, Honey.” Steve reaches down between Bucky's legs to glance fingers over his stiff little prick. “And hard.”

“Nnn.”

“You’re not going to have a very pleasant evening if I leave you like this. Are you sure you don’t want some relief?”

Bucky’s body stays tensed, his asshole blurting out more slick from Steve’s hand touching him even just that little bit. He seems to consider it as a real option for a moment, waffling over his decision, but eventually gets out a terse little, “No,” forcing himself to ignore what his body needs. “I don’t.”

“Really?”

“I don’t want you to do it,” he grits.

Steve sighs, not too surprised by that. Bucky’s still resentful of the one person who has complete authority over him. Steve'll probably be the last person he yields to. That’s the way it often goes with the bullheaded kids: they come around to their teachers first, Handlers second, and submit to Steve as their alpha last of all. It’s to be expected, but Steve can’t say he isn’t more disappointed than usual, in this case.

Because he isn't lying to the kid just to improve his self esteem: Bucky really is uncommonly beautiful. A handsome, small but strong boy who is exactly Steve’s preferred type when it comes to omegas. And his scent is … Well, all omegas smell lovely, but Bucky's scent is unusually fascinating.

Ever since that first day in Steve's office, when he'd submitted with such an easily provoked release, Steve’s wanted to get a better sense of him. This would have been the perfect chance to do that. Steve would’ve relished the chance to coax an orgasm out of him today, but if Bucky needs more time to truly relax into it, then he's willing to wait. Not like there won’t be plenty of opportunities in the future, once the boy's sexual urges have built up enough to have him eagerly submitting.

Steve closes his eyes and takes one last, indulgent inhale of that spiced, floral scent that’s only made stronger by the arousal. Viburnum, he realizes. That’s what it reminds him of. It clings to the edges of the earthy undertones of Bucky's scent, enhancing it to something truly alluring. Regretfully, Steve pats his hip and rolls away on the stool. “Okay,” he says, trying not to let the disappointment come through in his voice. “That’s alright, Sweetheart. I’ll have the nurse sent in to help you.”

“What? No.” Bucky twists his head in the restraints once again to look back at Steve where he’s removing the medical glove and standing up. His eyes widen when he sees the blue glove going into the waste bin, not having realized that Steve had donned it, having literally been prepared to finger him to orgasm. His mouth works helplessly for a moment, open and shut in a loss for words. “I don’t want anybody to do it.”

Steve walks back around in front of him and crouches down to his level, fixing him with a doubtful look. “Well that’s your choice, Honey. But you still won’t be allowed to touch yourself, you do realize that? If you change your mind after lights out tonight, then you’ll have to wait all the way until tomorrow morning to get a staff member to give you any relief.”

Bucky pretends to be unaffected, but Steve can see the brief flash of panic in the boy’s eyes at the prospect of going that much longer without an orgasm. “Fine,” he says, putting on a brave face. “I don’t care.”

Steve isn’t a fool. He knows that Bucky is almost certainly planning to break the rules and touch himself at the first available opportunity. Still, some lessons can’t be taught until mistakes are made and bad behavior corrected, so Steve nods and stands up to start unbuckling the bench’s restraints. “Okay, your choice, bud."

Bucky climbs off the bench once he’s able to, and Steve hands him his underwear to put on. His little prick is completely erect as he hurriedly pushes the uniform’s skirt back down, and he winces in discomfort as he pulls up the two layers of his underwear and gets them into place on his oversensitive body. “Ugh,” he huffs quietly. “Stupid.”

Steve chuckles, though he honestly feels more pity for the kid than anything. Bucky’s regret over having turned down an orgasm is so obvious it’s near palpable, his scent still rich with arousal. And just like Steve knows without a doubt that the back of the boy's underwear is already getting a wet spot, he also knows that he'll be checking the dormitory’s security feed later that night. With the level of certainty he has over Bucky’s plans to break the rules and touch himself, Steve figures he might as well start planning out what corrective measures they’ll inevitably be instituting as punishment.

“Come on,” he says, putting an arm around the kid’s shoulders and guiding him out of the room. “It’s dinner time. You must be getting hungry.”

Bucky says that he isn’t, but his stomach betrays him by growling loudly not two seconds after.

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup. Fic commissions reach out via Tumblr messenger or Kofi.

Event: @sebastianstanbingo Card: sarahowritesostucky Square O4: Floral Scents

@scottishrosefury, @not-that-syndrigast, @lolitsbuckybarnes, @kathy-2005, @stuckysgal, @thenewmissescullen, @sapphirebarnes

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riewritten · 1 year

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hi love ur writing sm

can we get part 2 of erwin x marley reader ?

i got this req more than a month ago, and as much as i hate to admit it, i think this will get more than a part 2. oh my god. oh my GOD. i have nothing but my impulses to blame.

THE WORST KIND OF NOTHING

CHAPTERS: 2/10 (TENTATIVE) | READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

PAIRING: ERWIN SMITH & FEM!READER & ZEKE YEAGER

leaving the pairing ambiguous for now bc i honestly don't know what will happen

WORDS: 1.5k | AO3 | FANFICTION

TAGS: Manga S4 spoilers, Canon AU – The Attack on Liberio Failed, Violence, Psychological Warfare, Manipulation, Character Study, Enemies to ? heh... let us see

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are lying on a ruined land, rough ground forming blisters on your bare back. When you sat up, what daunted was a doomsday: a village piled with carcasses, full of dead bodies. You are the only one alive—no, you are the only one unbruised out of all that had died. You don’t remember anything.

It’s as if you are born once again in a pristine body devoid of any memories.

Except that it wasn’t in any way pristine, nor were you a newly-born infant.

You are nothing. In a vast space with nothing but carcasses, the only thing you have is a body, not even clothes that the corpses wear.

It is until a blonde man with a beard and glasses spoke from behind, “Aren’t you cold?” He knelt and wrapped you up with a thick white cloth. “That’ll do for now, would you mind? I can’t afford my soldiers blushing amidst this tragic scene.” It sounded like a joke — at least you had the baseline comprehension to understand so. “Yelena, it’s all clear!”

“Who are you?”

He put his hand on his chin as if to think about it, so lack of seriousness and urgency as if no one’s dead at all. His face soon changed when he laid his eyes on you again, “Shall we have a deal first?”

“Who are you?”

“Look at your surroundings. Do you have any idea what just happened?”

Roaming your eyes all over, your question really did change. You gulped as fear reckoned inside, “What happened?”

“You killed them. All of them.” And unlike his jokey tone, he scooted his face nearer to whisper with dead eyes, “And I could do the same to you right now with one wrong move.” If his goal was to intimidate, it sure did work; your primal urge to survive kicked in, proving a semblance of humanity in your empty vessel. “I won’t make things complicated. All I want is for you to accept my deal.”

You stared at him, blank and confused, and thus his face turned casual again.

“Don’t get too scared, though! I’ll give you the benefit of a decent life despite all the lives that you took from my men!”

That was the last ping for you to understand the gist of your disposition. He really wasn’t lying because lots of corpses are wearing the same uniform as him. Fear reeked further inside with nothing in mind but the primal desire to survive.

“What’s the deal all about?”

The question was followed by a painful injection shot on your nape. Zeke got a bit surprised but it was followed by a chuckle, “Don’t just strike from behind, Yelena.”

“You can save the talk for later, Zeke. We should neutralize her first. Who knows what she can do?”

You resisted out of impulse, but the said Yelena grabbed your head and shoved it at Zeke’s chest. You can almost feel your neck tear apart with the reeking pang of fluid. You can hear it gushing. You can feel how huge the needle is. You groaned and wiggled away, but Zeke caught you in his arms with soothing hums. It won’t take long, it won’t take long. There, there, young lady. You can do it.

When the fluid emptied, Yelena harshly dropped you and then tied your arms behind your back. The cloth fell off; she heeded it no mind. Zeke let out a light tsk, “Have some pity on her. Can’t you feel how cold the breeze is?” But then he got distracted by the blister on your stomach. “Oh, poor you. We have to treat this later on.”

“Quite unique that your eyes are not lurking around her boobs."

Zeke shook his head in dismay then nonchallantly wrapped you up with the cloth again, “That’s very untimely, Yelena.”

“Continue your talk. We’ll be waiting at the base."

You felt utterly dizzy. Your vision is wobbly and Zeke is multiplying kaleidoscopically. He knew it well hence he held onto your shoulders for support. “So speaking of the deal…”

“Deal…” you blankly muttered with the last bits of consciousness.

“There, there,” Zeke’s palm caught your cheek that was about to fall on the ground. “Be a good soldier by my side and you shall live that undeservingly decent life. That’s a bit generous offer, don’t you think?”

“H-huh…”

“Think about it, I couldn’t be so generous anymore if you were to turn me down. The least that I could do by then is make you choose how you want to die.” He tapped your cheek. “Hear me? Oh, don’t tell me you’re about to faint. You hadn’t even told me your name yet!”

“H…hah…”

When your consciousness fluttered away for good, you felt him catch you. The kaleidoscope roamed all over your vision until it was no more. His soothing voice slowly transitioned into tip taps of the water, and the reeking smell of corpses changed into a rusty chamber. When you opened your eyes again, what daunted is still a blonde, but it’s not Zeke anymore.

“That’s quite rude, spacing out in the middle of a life-changing contract.” Erwin deadpanned.

“What?” roaming around the surroundings answered the prompt. You’re in a torture chamber and the Commander is forming up a shenanigan. “The deal, yeah, we’re talking about a deal.”

“A loyal wildcard that wouldn’t break for me in exchange for a decent life amidst the crimes you had done with my men — was my offer too much to handle for your consciousness to slip away? I thought it was a generous one.”

Oh, nothing had changed. From the first memory you ever had of this world up to your tied-up figure now, you still have nothing. Nothing but generous offers of blondes who would kill you in a snap for noncompliance.

“What do you know about me? Let’s start from that before running through the deal.”

“You’re speaking as if I could offer you another choice.”

“I can’t deal with someone who doesn’t know the hell he is trying to pry in.”

The Commander nodded at the given point, impressed. Without further ado, he shoved the medical equipment away and pulled your chair so you’d hear properly the things he was about to say. “The mysterious massacre at the Marleyan port involving soldiers and citizens alike. I heard that caused an impediment with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers and yet…” he tipped his head to the side, looking a bit too curious about the answer. You’re uncertain if he’s just messing around or he really doesn’t know. “It was reported that the instigator was safe kept by Zeke and masked as a newly recruited underling. Oh, if only there weren’t any witnesses.”

The Commander stood up and walked behind your back and — much to your uncomfortability — glazed his fingers on your nape. He lightly pressed on a spot in the middle; the jitters ran through your nerves, roaring your heartbeat louder. “And as we speak, serum fluid is running through your nerves. How cruel of him to put you on a leash without your consent.”

Your breathing went labored, hands went colder — this man really knows what he’s talking about; he very much knows the hell he is trying to pry in. Maybe—just maybe—he even knows more than you.

His hands slid towards your shoulder next. He leaned his head, mouth nearer to your ear so you’d hear the first package of his deal, “Since it’ll be your first job under my command, I won’t impose much burden on your hands. All you have to do is prove that you really can be an unbreakable weapon for the Scouts.”

Despite the utter feeling of powerlessness, of lack of control, of lack of everything since the day you got “born,” you kept yourself intact. “How would I do that?” The question was muttered with no hint of bother, just as you vehemently attempted so.

“You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair. If not, then you don’t have to prove anything else — our deal officially starts by then.”

You just have to wait until he screams. If you turned into a titan, then my soldiers would release you of your despair.

If you’d be honest, your powerlessness includes ignorance. Not even you know the answer to that question — that’s what tied you to the sweet ruthless Zeke after all.

However, despite the looming answers, you had quite a twisted wish.

You wish his scream would really turn you into a mindless monster, which Erwin’s crew could dispose of so quickly. The most pleasant deal you’ve gotten so far was his, after all. The pleasant deal of releasing you of your short-lived despair — of the lives you took, of the leash tied at you, of the shackles wrapping your hands behind your back.

The best deal you’ve got was with the Commander of this hell of an island.

With that in mind, you looked him in the eye and nodded, “Not like I have something else to lose.”

The Commander, now satisfied with the ordeal, offered you a cordial smile. “Worry not, I swear to treat you better than they did.”

🏷 @frenchdyer @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE HERE

WELP… that took quite a dark turn. for context of this AU, i’m exploring a rather dead theory about how ymir just altered the canon timeline so eren would have no choice but to do the rumbling! i don’t believe in that theory myself but for the sake of this fanfic, this will revolve in a setting where:

mikasa ANSWERED eren properly (you're not just a family something something) and so they ran away together. BUT DON'T worry, eren will still run behind the curtains. his characterization just wouldn't sit still, i know) and;

both armin and erwin lived

but why these two variables? why did ymir not alter the timeline in favor of the rumbling? that’s where you enter the picture. good luck!

ALSO, sharing this colossal titan!erwin smith. whew.

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kookieswan · 1 year

Text

Of Blooms & Bounties - Charmer

Pirate!Jungkook x Explorer!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre: Pirate!AU, Magic!AU, Semi-Historical!AU, slightly fluffy, very silly.

Warnings: Stealing…? Just a reminder that many of the characters in this series are morally gray!

Summary: You want that rare black silk, and you’ll pout until you get it. Pout and scheme and giggle.

Notes: Idk tbh, a call back to an ask about Jimin and MC tag teaming to distract merchants lmao. I hope you all enjoy!

This is from the Of Blooms & Bounties Series. Find it here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimin looks toward you and nods quietly, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You smile back, giddy to be wearing such pretty clothing out and about. Jimin looks like a vision himself, all pretty silks and striking jewelry. You feel absolutely beautiful standing next to him, it almost reminds you of the old days…

Following his lead, you walk up to the merchant from around the corner with a swing in your hip, face purposely kept soft as you smile up at the bald man. He looks between the two of you with a careful smile; not worried at first, but more so uneasy when he spots Jimin beside you. Time to pull out your charm to get what you want.

“What can I do for the two of you? I can see you both enjoy the finer things, your garments are very beautiful!” It almost makes you feel bad. Almost. He seems like a lovely man but a birdie told you that he has beautiful rare black silk and you want it. You want it so bad that you pulled out the big guns on Blossom, pouting at the crew till they all crumbled under your gaze. And now…

“Oh wow, you’re sooooo muscular! That’ll work out perfectly.” Once a charmer, always a charmer. Reaching for his arm, you gently squeeze the muscle there. Your aren’t lying to him, Mr. Muscle man has quite the physique, you dare say he’s even bigger then Namjoon. You watch giddily as he flushes, as Jimin wanders closer in and pokes and prods with you.

“We-well thank you little lady! I do try my best to keep in shape.” Giggling a bit at his words, you try your best not to full on laugh as Jimin practically curls up to him like a snake. He places a hand on the other man’s bare chest, long fingernails scraping against the skin slightly.

“So big and buff, I bet you could lift us both up at the same time, hm? You see, we need someone to carry back all the fabrics we wish to buy from you…” It comes out low and sultry, Jimin smiling like he knows he’s already won. Mr. Muscle swallows visibly, hand coming up to pick at his collar as you sway back and forth, the silk of your dress shining prettily in the wind.

“We-well, I, uh. Maybe I could…? Yeah, I bet I could!” He nods to himself, almost like a pep talk as you and Minnie glance at each other. Phase one a go then, now it’s time for the ultimate distraction.

“Let’s test you out then! I would love a piggyback ride. Could I have one mister? I know you could handle our purchases then!” He nods silently and turns around with a large grin at the prospect of a big sale, and within seconds, you’re flinging yourself onto his back. There’s a slight ‘oof’ as you do so, and he tries very hard not to touch your ass as he adjusts you. What a tried and true gentleman.

Turning your head back as you make a ruckus, you see Jimin pull the second signal for the day, watching as Jungkook and Hoseok slip by you quickly and into the shop. Kookie flashes you a cute smile, giving an okay to indicate that everything’s running smoothly. So far, you think everything’s going pretty good then. Lovely silk, an intense adventure, and even a fun little ride. Jimin signals for both of your attentions with a few claps, pointing toward the ships.

“Bring my pretty companion out this way, she loves the view of the sea just as much as I do.” And so he does, trailing after the witch as the smaller man strides ahead. You don’t call out Mr. Muscle when his gaze trails downward; you can’t blame him. Minnie has quite the silhouette. You finally reach the docks after a bit, ignoring how people stare at first at your hiked up dress, but quickly slapping your hand on the bald man’s head when he tries to turn back.

“WHOOPS let’s not go that way, I want to go towards the sea! The sky’s so pretty!” You bet Tae would love it; hell, you bet Tae is drawing it from the ship right now. Maybe Joon and is off at shore while Jin and Yoongi fish… shaking your head, you don’t want Mr, Muscle to get bored and leave because who knows what he likes, so you slip your hands over his eyes and giggle cutely. Cute always wins.

“Let’s play a game of Helvadio Krensal! Try to find my friend Mr. Muscle.” Surprisingly, he goes along with it, shouting Helvadio as loudly as he can. You pat his head gently whenever he gets closer to Minnie, secretly liking the sound, but of course, Minnie never lets him get close enough.

“Krensal~~~~~~~” Jimin dances around the man with ease, actually laughing as he runs around with you on his back. After a long while, he finally allows the man to catch him, lips twitching as Mr. Muscle apologize profusely for touching his chest blindly. To be honest, you don’t think Jimin minds very much at all.

“No worries. Now, let us return to your stall, shall we? I think you’ve proven your worth.” Mr. Muscle is clearly tiring from carrying you, but he doesn’t say a word as he teeter totters back to your destination. You know Hosoek and Jungkook have made it out at this point. You’d given them at least twenty minutes to rummage through the shop, and black silk can’t be that hard to spot...

Except for the fact that it must be, because everything stops as Mr. Muscle spots the two men ‘sneaking’ out of his shop. More like tumbling as Jungkook practically falls on his face, Hobi just barely catching him in time and causing half of the awning to fall. Both of their eyes are wide, blinking owlishly as you and Jimin blink back. Shit.

Without warning, you’re practically tossed off the man’s back as he chases your crew mates down the road, yelling and screeching at the top of his lungs like a demon from the depths of the sea. Jimin catches you, cackling at just how much the tables have turned. Things can never go smoothly for this bunch, can it…? Dusting yourself off, you right yourself as Jimin continues to giggle to himself, flicking a finger as the awning rises back up.

You wander over to the poor merchants stall with Jimin in hand after the shouting disappears into the distance for a closer look. It’s easy enough to spot a lovely bolt of lace, a pair of scissors, and some packaging. It doesn’t take much convincing to step behind the stall a snip a few yards for yourself. Jimin glares at everyone who walks by, effectively keeping them all away as you do your work.

Your crew mate watches with a slowly raising brow as you pull a few coins out of your pocket, enough to pay for at least double of what you took, and put them on the counter. What can you say, you feel a little bad for the lovely bald man, it’s clear he’s actually quite kind... Only a little though, because now you have rare silk, lovely lace, and blackmail for the future. Turning back to Jimin, you boop his nose and he playfully bites your finger.

“Help me wrap this up Minnie.”

#of blooms & bounties #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts fluff #bts magic au #bts pirate au

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dirtbag-linecook-kyloren · 1 year

Text

okay I’m like 300 words from finishing act one BUT I hit 3k so I’m allowed to think more about the running AU

Hux is picky about his shoes. Like, spends a few hours researching before he even goes to a running store to try something on. I’m giving him my stride, mainly, so it’s pretty short, so he favors a thick ass sole. I think he would the Brooks Ghosts as much as I do. They’ve been his main shoe for five years, but he has a trail specific shoe as well. (I have two pairs and I don’t like either for actual trails so I’ll get back to you on that.)

Kylo buys whatever shoe is on sale and feels okay. He doesn’t know what plane his foot rests on, and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. If they made light up running shoes he’d buy them because they’d make him feel faster. He can string together a good 5k but the second he passes from 3.1 miles to 3.2 he’s fucking dying. It’s entirely mental but Kylo Does Not Know That

Hux has a nice running belt. It’s a four bottle one because he’s a thorsty boy and refuses to wear a hydration pack because they’re silly (and they are but that’s a person thing). He eats at specific mile intervals and has specific snacks for each one. He buys GU in bulk because it’s incredibly nutrition to time-eating efficient.

I think if Kylo even tried to drink while running he’d choke. Like, full fall to the ground can’t breath choke. It’s a skill and he does not fucking have it

Hux plans his routes out before he even has his shoes on. He takes his RunKeeper account very seriously to make sure he’s tracking the wear along all his shoes, and once he passes over 350 miles, they become mowing the lawn shoes.

Kylo doesn’t know how many miles are on his shoes. he also doesn’t know where he’s going, when he runs. He doesn’t track shit, doesn’t even have a watch on him. no earbuds, no nothing. Homeboy is raw dogging running like it’s the 90s.

Hux keeps his bibs from every race over 10K. He gets them framed and as them all over his house. Running is his, like, main hobby. It’s also the reason he eats a gallon of ice cream a week, because runners eat like FUCKING GARBAGE. (This is not a joke. At some point you have to eat Too Much Food to make up for distance running calories and oatmeal cream pies are super calorie dense) That being said he only eats like garbage for 1/4 of his food because that a good balance for him.

Kylo is legit living on ramen and angst. Like, this boy is not eating enough to be running the way he is. When hux learns this he’s going to be horrified,

Hux used to be a chocolate milk after a run person, and now it’s just a chocolate protein powder. Gold standard whey, probably?

Kylo just buys the store brand and he forgets to drink it half the time

I have so many thoughts about the background for this fic and no idea for plot yet but *hands wave* have more thoughts, when it gets a plot and I’m not already working on a fic like my life depends on it, we might do something about this.

What would be a good AU tag for this fic? 13.1 Things I Hate About You is funny to me but Idk

i think that’ll be the working title we can always change it.

(This one will be much shorter I’ve got at most 10k of an idea here but I think that’s enough to be worth writing.)

#13.1 Things I Hate About You #kylux AU

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pjunicornart · 2 years

Text

Hey, wanna make an AU Tobey?

I propose a character design challenge to all who are willing to participate, or to those who want ideas for their next character designs.

So! The Tobey in the picture is one that I made, I call him Indie Tobey, or just Indie. Mostly because he embodies what I feel would be the accurate depiction of “the cool indie kid next door”. I came up with his design after listening to the song listed in the image, “1989″ by Delights. Full body(ish) design here: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/pjunicornart/690788455601537024?source=share

Now, I feel like Indie here needs some buddies. What I’m saying is, I’m gonna list some of my favorite playlists from YouTube and I challenge YOU to make an AU Tobey design (+story, if you’re an over achiever) based on the song of YOUR choice from one of the playlists I link to.

“How do I make an AU Tobey based on a song?” I hear you asking. Well, that I feel like is simple. When you listen to a song, normally you feel this kind of vibe to it. You can base your AU Tobey after that vibe, or, you can take the actual lyrics of the song (if there are any) and base him off that. Really, you have full creative freedom here on what you choose to interpret the song as.

For the actual Tobey themselves, again, you have full creative freedom here. You can make him a slightly altered version of OG Tobey, with a little flare. You can make his story completely different. You can make him a teenager. Hell, you can even change his hair color or glasses shape! Because we all know that across multiple universes, not everything is gonna be the same! Also, if you want to make some AU versions of other Wordgirl characters to go with Tobey, I won’t stop you.

In your post, you must include the song you chose and what playlist it came from somewhere in it. In the image itself or in the description. Now, without further rambling, here are the playlists. I tried to get a wide range of them.

pov: you’re the cool kid nextdoor : a chill indie playlist - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXw7_u_6yGM

chaotic academia indie essentials - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGpWsi-9tSo

dark academia indie essentials (a playlist) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZiNOBrx51g

a cottagecore playlist to feel like you’re in nature - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_XiWjaxNy8

you’ve entered the Liminal Space. - a dreamcore/weirdcore playlist (Warning: may be disorienting to some individuals, listen with caution) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ez6DPJemdcw

Strawberry Rush!! A Kidcore/Candycore playlist - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FGNjq3lBsHM

Random burst of energy at 3am | a hyperpop playlist p3 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrbOVpXfWvw

Alright, that’ll do it. Have fun! To let me know of your creations, @ me or use this tag: #songsfortobey. Ideally, use both. Have a good rest of your day. :)

#myart #my art #traditional art #marker #art challenge #character art challenge #character design #wordgirl #wordgirl au #tobey mccallister #tobey mcallister iii #au #alternate reality #alternate universe #playlist #playlists #have fun #songsfortobey

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kiyokokaguya · 2 years

Text

Some AUs to consider?

Part I into Shippuden AU:

The Sound Five weren’t defeated and she grew up with them around. How her brother survived his ordeal was nothing short of a miracle. She’d grow up with her brother alive and learned some of his dances. Kiyo even came up with some of her own.

Boruto AU:

She’s all grown up now, still stuck on a few of the advanced dances her brother had taught her but… Getting there. She still doesn’t use her Kekkei Genkai to the full extent she should, but she’s an excellent fighter.

Still gets picked on by Tayuya and Sakon though.

Stasis AU: (Takes place during Boruto)

It’s just a jump to the left (Time Warped) V: Lost In Time; Kiyoko Kaguya; 13 - 14

(These are both tags for an RP I have going on with Sandheir. However I like the idea of her being stuck in stasis post Sound 5 death…. and then let free around Boruto. So this tag happens around Bort. That would mean she’d be a genin for the sound and sometimes travel between there and Konoha.)

High School AU:

Kiyoko is in her final year, planning on going to college to become a doctor and her ‘siblings’ are her classmates. Except for Kimimaro who already graduated.

Tayuya has a similar AU where she is more of a delinquent, skipping classes, going to arcades, getting into fights. She once clobbered someone with the case her flute is in.

They both all live under their adopted parent’s roof. Parent being Orochimaru. More like: a legal guardian.

Ran away to the Leaf AU:

This one’s an odd AU but… it’s basically a what if Kiyoko at 13, ran off to Konoha after her 'family’ died. Not like she knows Konoha and Suna had a hand in their deaths. It’s likely she wouldn’t be very well accepted for who she is. But she remains the sad snowball she’s always been. Maybe she’ll make a friend or two that’ll change this!

Verses:

Demon Slayer AU:

A demon that uses her own bones to attack. However she doesn’t seem to want to fight or eat humans. She’s afraid of humans and only attacks them if provoked. No actual deaths have been caused by her, only warning wounds. She thinks her brother is dead when he was actually turned into a demon and had disappeared. Kiyoko meets him again later, the poor girl missed her big brother.

Tag:

V: Bright eyed little demon lady; can’t go home. | Kiyoko Kaguya

My Hero Academia AU:

A bone wielding student has come to UA! She uses bones to fight with and they come from her body. Her body has an incredibly high tolerance to pain and the bones are extremely strong. Her downsides are that she’s extremely timid and not exactly confident in her abilities. She also doesn’t want to fight unless she has to.

Tag:

V: Even my skin turns to bone; Ultimate Defense Hero Bonelady | Kiyoko Kaguya

Yu Yu Hakusho AU:

Kiyoko is a demon that seems to wander ningenkai. She doesn’t seem to cause any trouble and happens to get lost often. Cities are large and she’s never been good at navigation. Usually she’ll come out if there are festivals. Most of the time she’ll blend in with other humans and keep to herself. Her abilities are the same as they are in Naruto. She can manipulate her bones.

She's from a clan of bone wielding demons. Blood thirsty, war mongering demons. There are a few defectors of this clan due to how they did not embrace being war mongers. Kiyoko was one of those defectors along with an older brother she had been separated from. She hasn't seen him since, nor the others that had defected. So, the girl has been wandering the Makai ever since and sometimes she'd make her way to the Ningenkai searching to no avail... yet.

Tag:

V: But maybe I was meant to be lonely; Kiyoko Kaguya || YYH Verse

#OOC: {I'm just so tired}#Pls ignore I'm trying to link it to Kiyo's bio to make it a little shorter.

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jessikahathaway · 3 years

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Baby Talk - Part I

Hellooooo!

I've had this in my WIPs for a while and I wanted to get some of it out so that you all could enjoy it! Let me know what you think and if you want more??? Tag lists are open for all of my ongoing fics so if you want to be added just let me know!

Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Medical Procedures, Assault (not descriptive), Profanity. If I forgot anything please let me know!

Words: 11.3k (Phew chill Jess~)

This wasn’t a big deal, you thought to yourself as you signed the paperwork in the clinic.

Just, you know, getting artificially inseminated for money. Nothing weird about that right?

Becoming a surrogate wasn’t something you’d planned on in your life, mainly sticking to your job and working towards a better tomorrow or whatever they say.

You were young, healthy and full of life.

The only thing you lacked, was a full bank account.

The realization hit a little harder than you thought it would. Being a receptionist wasn’t exactly what you’d had planned for your life but, it was simple work and it made you happy.

Going to college wasn’t really ever an option for you anyways. Your parents had died in an accident when you were little, forcing you to go live with your Great Aunt until you turned eighteen. She hadn’t forced you out, but you did leave. Wanting the adventures that life had to offer.

However, you quickly realized that it wasn’t easy pickings out in the world. That’s when the notice came to the door of your apartment that you either paid your late rent in full by the date or you could get your ass out.

Fear trickled down your spine at the thought of being homeless. You briefly thought of going back to your Aunts but, she lived out in the country and the city is where you’d made your home. As much as you cared about her, it just wasn’t going to happen.

That’s when your friend Namjoon and his husband Jim invited you over for dinner.

You were beyond excited, because these two had just had their baby girl Annie.

They had used the local fertility clinic to get a surrogate and had their baby just a month prior. You had been dying to meet the little bundle ever since you heard the news they were having a baby.

God, that kid was going to be spoiled rotten.

Quickly, you had gone over and enjoyed a nice meal with the three of them. Annie still partaking in formula.

You had tried to make conversation, but your eyes kept wandering to Annie and her little hands and feet. You felt a slight clench in your chest at the sight of her round face and sweet eyes.

“Earth to Y/N? You doing alright?” Namjoon’s voice echoed through their lovely, luxe apartment.

“Y-Yeah! Fine, I’m fine,” you smiled.

“You sure?” Jin asked, getting up to take his and Namjoon’s plates to the kitchen.

“Mhmm,” you said, eyes glancing back over at the baby.

“You’re so whipped, Annie has claimed yet another victim,” Namjoon snickered, looking at the blissful gaze your eyes had taken.

“You ever want kids, Y/N?” Jin asked, coming back in with dessert for each of you.

“I guess so, I mean. Just gotta find someone to make the baby with,” you joked half heartedly.

It was no secret among your friends that you were the black sheep. Not dating, not even entertaining the notion of having a significant other. The idea was, honestly, draining.

“Don’t feel like you have to be married to have a kid, Y/N. Single parenthood is just as valid as a couple,” Jin reminded.

“I’m nowhere near financially stable enough to pop out a kid right now,” you sighed.

“No? I thought the job at the hotel was treating you well,” Namjoon said.

“Yes and no, they treat me well. But pay me next to shit... I-I gotta make some quick cash, or I’m gonna be homeless,” you whispered.

“What?!?” The two men shouted, looking at you with heartbreak in their eyes.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us you were struggling! We could’ve done something!” Jin says, rubbing his face with frustration.

“No-No! It’s fine, I’ll figure it out! I always do,” you encouraged, trying to keep the fear out of your eyes.

“How far behind on rent are you?” Namjoon asked.

“A little under six grand,” you sighed.

“Y/N!” Your two friends looked distraught.

“I don’t understand how a society can function like this, I hate it,” Namjoon said, looking down at his dessert he no longer wanted.

Annie started fussing, kicking her feet and wanting attention.

Jin sighed and got up, taking his beautiful daughter with him. You and Namjoon sat in cold silence for a while. Neither of you willing to talk to the other.

You were too proud for your own good. Even if it meant crashing and burning, you’d do that before you took anyone’s pity.

“How can we help?” Namjoon asked, looking at you with so much worry.

“I really don’t know Joon, there’s no where that’ll give me that kinda money with my credit and... even if they did I couldn’t pay it back anyways,” you sighed.

“Have you thought about going to school for something? Maybe you can get a degree and, I don’t know I’m pulling at straws here,” he said.

“I can’t go to school Joon, with what money? And even worse, I wouldn’t know what to go into,” you said, swallowing down some more wine.

“I wish we could’ve had you surrogate for us. We paid that woman a small fortune. Had I known you were struggling I would, maybe you could’ve done it instead,” he said quietly.

“How much did you pay her?” You asked.

“Around $80,000,” he said, shrugging.

You choked.

“Damn you filthy rich kids,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“That’s it!” Namjoon said.

“Huh?” You asked, looking at him in confusion and despair.

“You can’t be our surrogate, but you could be someone else’s!”

Your body ran cold at the thought.

“I-I don’t know if I could do that Joon,” you said.

“Doesn’t your family have a high chance of twins?” He said, looking at you with a smile.

“I mean, yes but-”

“Say no more. I know a couple that’s been dreaming of a baby. They actually were supposed to meet the woman who wound up being our surrogate. But she decided to go with us. Jimin and Jungkook, they’re really good people Y/N,” Namjoon said, smiling.

“Namjoon, I don’t know if I can have a stranger’s baby!”

“I mean I won’t force you to sign up or anything. But Jungkook and Jimin are really good guys who have been waiting forever to have a baby. They said they wanted twins but, most importantly they wanted a healthy child. How sweet is that!”

You worried your lower lip with your teeth. This was just ridiculous. There’s no way you’d be able to do it. No way.

“Let me show you a picture of them!” Namjoon said, pulling out his phone.

“Joon really-”

Although, before you could argue anymore, you saw their faces.

A smaller, blond man. Whose smile was brighter than any star. And a taller, lean brunette who looked at the camera with a goofy grin.

“Jimin is the blond, Jungkook is the brunette,” Namjoon explained.

“Okay?” You said, trying to calm your racing heart.

They were both handsome. Deathly so, it made your stomach clench in a weird way to look at them. You wondered what kind of babies they would make. If they had that smile Jimin was packing, no one would be safe. That child would get whatever it wanted.

“I’m just saying, it doesn't have to be them but they’ve wanted a baby for so long and... you could help them with that and get a lump sum of cash on the side. Bad a bing bad a boom! No worries!”

It wasn’t such a hard decision in the end.

You needed the money.

So walking into the clinic had this weird sense of finality to it.

The receptionist looked at you with a smile.

“Hello dear, how can I help you?” She said.

“I-uh, wanted to sign up to be a potential surrogate?” You said, wringing your hands together.

“Of course! Did you bring your medical records and things of the like?”

You nodded quickly, handing over the required paperwork. She clicked away on her keyboard and got you all signed up and ready to go. Soon, you were getting your preliminary check up to see if you were able to have children.

Although your period had some irregularities in the past, the doctor’s said it was probably due to stress and the balancing out of hormones. But it would all work out, you were healthy and fertile!

You managed to tell Namjoon that you signed up without him having a full blown heart attack.

“How long until you need to be out of the apartment?” He asked, sipping his coffee.

“I need to be out in three weeks,” you said softly.

“Well shit you’re kinda on a time crunch there sweets, but don’t worry, you can do it! I’ll let Jimin and Jungkook know that you signed up, they’ll want to meet you. I know it,” he said.

“Namjoon, it’s okay. I don’t care who I surrogate for, as long as it’s soon,” you said, trying to keep your heart rate under control.

“Okay, but Y/N, I’m telling you. They’d be the perfect fit for you!” He said.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The days to come would be challenging no doubt.

—

You were rather popular at the fertility clinic it seemed, because you’d had three meetings already.

One was a couple that had been trying for years and it just wasn’t happening so they were resorting to a different method. Although for this one they wanted to do an egg implantation. You weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

Another was an older couple who looked like they were just planning on having kids but their own clocks ran out.

But finally, you got one more call from the clinic.

“Miss Y/N, you’ve got another request for a meeting,” the receptionist on the other line said.

“Oh? With whom?” You asked.

“A Mr. Park Jimin and a Mr. Jeon Jungkook, they asked for you personally,” she said, tone light.

You almost spit out your drink.

Th-They had asked for you?

The fertility clinic was big, a huge database of surrogates and people willing to conceive for the right price.

But they had asked to meet you.

Personally.

“Miss Y/N? Still there?” The receptionist asked, sounding far away from you.

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” you said, coughing.

“Wonderful, they said if you were willing they’d like to treat you to a meal, of course I can’t give out your contact information without consent from you but if you’re willing to meet with them we can arrange this.”

You heard yourself agree before even thinking about it.

Soon, you were on your way to the higher end of town. Heading towards a good Korean Barbeque place that was notorious for having the best meat in town.

Walking in you looked around, noticing how luxurious the place was. It made you feel a little out of place to be honest. But, not letting that get to you the host came up and asked for your name.

“Miss Y/N, ah yes. You’re with the Jeon party, lovely. Come right this way,” he said, taking you back into the bowels of the beast it seemed.

Winding through tables and chairs you found yourself in front of a private room. You didn’t want to think about how much this cost, so you simply just let your mind wander to other fun topics.

Such as the fact that you were potentially meeting your surrogate partners.

“Mr. Jeon? Mr. Park? A Miss Y/N is here for you,” the host said, through the door.

“Let her in,” a higher pitched male voice said.

You bit your lip and waited as the door opened. You looked inside and saw a beautiful wooden table, laid out with the finest meats and other various types of noodles and food. Then, there was the other feast, one for your eyes.

Park Jimin was a smaller man, but so incredibly handsome it made your head swirl. His soft blond hair tucked under a beanie as he looked up at you with what could only be called wonder. He looked at you gently, a small smile making its way to his lips.

Jeon Jungkook was a different story. Lean but cut, tiny waist accentuated by his pants. His arms were strong looking and one was covered in tattoos. His hair was pulled away from his face in a precious man bun that made your heart stutter. His eyes were big and glassy, looking at you. As if breathing you in.

“Hi,” you said quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

“We know,” Jimin said with a gentle smile.

“Come, sit down,” Jungkook said, moving a chair out for you to sit.

“Okay,” you agreed, moving to sit down.

“Get whatever you want,” Jimin encouraged, handing you the menu politely.

“Thank you,” you blushed, trying to not faint with his eyes on you like that.

Ordering a few things for yourself the three of you sat there with awkward silence filling the space. Jungkook wouldn’t really look at you and Jimin seemed like he was too nervous to start.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat. “How long have you two been together?” You asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Five years,” Jungkook said, placing his hand over his glass.

“Oh wow, congratulations,” you said, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathed.

“Our friend Namjoon said you were kind of in a tight spot and needed some help financially, is this true?” Jungkook asked, finally glancing your way.

“Y-Yeah, I wish he wouldn’t just tell other people that but, no sense in denying the truth. I’m almost six grand behind on rent,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Both of their faces fell, looking at each other in worry.

“It-It’s okay though! I’ll be okay, I always am,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

“It’s okay to be scared, Y/N, I would be scared shitless if I were you,” Jungkook said, taking slow drinks from his glass.

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to avoid the stinging in your eyes.

“What do you do for work?” Jimin asked, trying to keep the conversation from turning to dark.

“I’m a receptionist at the local hotel. It’s not much, but I really like it,” you said, a grin taking place on your face.

“Hey, if you like it then that means something,” Jimin encouraged.

“So, you two want to have a baby?” You said, trying to get down to the topic at hand.

“Yes, more than anything,” Jimin said, a wistful look crossing his face.

“That’s amazing, to love each other that much and want to build a family is... Super important,” you said, meaning every word.

“What does your family do, Y/N? Do they live here in the city?”

You awkwardly rubbed your hands together.

“Um, my Great Aunt lives out in the country. But, my parents and most of my other relatives have passed on,” you said, trying to hide the emotion that came up.

“Oh, so sorry for your loss,” Jungkook said, face pinching.

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago,” you whispered.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jimin argued.

“You’re right, but, it’s okay,” you said.

“So, you have a high chance for twins,” Jungkook said, looking at some papers you didn’t notice were on the table.

“Yes, my mother was a twin. It runs way back in my family,” you said.

“Jimin has a good chance of having twins as well,” Jungkook said, gesturing to his loving partner.

“I do I do,” he said with a grin.

“Do you two want a set of twins?” You asked.

“It’s preferred but not necessary. As long as we get a baby, that’s all that matters,” Jungkook said.

Soon, the food was delivered and Jungkook and Jimin insisted on cooking the food for you. Something about not stressing you out too much.

After a full meal, you leaned back and let your head fall comfortably. Jimin and Jungkook exchanged a glance at each other.

‘She’s the one,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook smiled and nodded back.

“Thank you for the meal, I really do appreciate it. I haven’t eaten like that in months,” you said.

“Well, if you want to have our baby, we would gladly provide you with all the food you could want,” Jimin said.

“T-That’s alright, it wouldn’t be necessary-”

“Yes it would, Y/N. If you carry our child that means we’re responsible for you, everything you need or want will be yours. We swear,” Jungkook said.

“Right,” you swallowed thickly.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Jimin asked.

“I-I’ve never really been one for dependence on other people. You know? I like to do things myself if I can,” you said.

“Well, we wouldn’t force you to do anything of course but, if you did want or need anything, we would be more than happy to provide you with it,” Jungkook said.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you said.

“You’d be carrying our child,” Jimin said as if it were obvious.

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Hey, if you don’t want to do this then don’t feel pressured. Don’t let money be an object in what you want to do with your life. It’s not healthy,” Jimin said.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“Well, I think it’s time to get going. I know you’ve met with other couples that have no doubt tried to convince you they’re the best option but... I really hope you chose us Y/N. You’d be the perfect surrogate for us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with a softened gaze.

And you knew it too.

You knew they were the couple you wanted to surrogate for, even if it cost you everything. You knew they deserved it. Not that any of the other families you had spoken to didn’t, but, they were the ones for you.

Your fertile window and ovulation were coming up so you had to make a choice and soon.

You’d met with the doctors at the clinic and they said that they were just waiting on you. Whomever you picked would have a meeting with you before the insemination on the rules and what you would have to do in regards to taking care of yourself. And then the money would be yours in full.

Calling the clinic you told them your answer.

“I would like to surrogate for Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park,” you said.

“Alrighty, I will give them a call and set up the appointment for them to get their end of the deal all set up and then we can get you all ready to go!” The receptionist said.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you said before hanging up.

Namjoon and Jin invited you over wanting to hear the news of everything going on with you.

And you couldn’t wait to see Annie again.

“Aw, you’re getting so big!” You said as you were greeted by Annie’s face in Jin’s arms.

“Yes she is!” Jin agreed. The cooing baby leaned forward, moving to capture your hair in her little fist.

You laughed and took her from Jin easily, he didn’t fight you and let you have your time with her. Rocking and bouncing her on your hip while the pair of them talked in the dining room.

Soon, a knocking came to the door.

Confusion swept over you, but regardless, you went to answer the door anyways.

Annie still on your hip, you opened the door to reveal Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, your new surrogate partners.

Frozen in shock the two of them looked at you as if they were equally confused.

You wondered if the clinic had told them you picked them yet. You had just gotten off the phone with them today, so you weren’t. Jungkook’s face went to you to Annie and then back to you.

“H-Hi?” You whispered.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jimin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Came to have dinner with Jinnie and Joon, and Annie of course,” you smiled, raising the little one up on your hip more.

“Oh, did you know we were coming?” Jungkook asked.

“No, I had no idea,” you said.

“Ah! Are those the boys?” Jin’s voice echoed throughout the hall.

“Yes!” You yelled back.

“Let them in Y/N! We invited them over too!” Namjoon said.

“Please come in,” you said, moving out of their way as the couple greeted Jin and Namjoon fondly.

It appeared as though there were no hard feelings in regards to them getting a surrogate they wanted. But, you could see Jungkook’s longing on his face when he looked at Annie in your arms.

“She’s beautiful,” Jimin said, looking down at Annie as you rocked her to sleep.

“Mhmm, gorgeous. She’ll be stealing hearts just like her dads,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin said, keeping his eyes trained on the little one in your arms.

“Did you make your decision yet? It said on your profile that your ovulation window was coming up and I was just curious,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said.

Jimin’s face fell.

“I see,” he swallowed.

“Jimin-”

“Alright you two, paws off the baby, my turn!” Namjoon said, walking in.

You handed the sleeping baby over without a fuss before you and Jimin both walked out into the living room. Jimin whispered something to Jungkook and his face dropped. But you couldn’t find the words in your mouth. You wanted to tell them you picked them. You moved to talk to them when you felt Jin’s presence behind you.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jin asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was getting later, and you were feeling sleepy from all the food you’d eaten during the night.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at your sleepy form and their hearts broke all over again.

“I can’t believe she didn’t pick us,” Jungkook said, face betraying how he felt.

“Babe, you can’t force her. I-I thought we had a good chance but,” Jimin sighed.

“I don’t want to keep looking for a surrogate if this is going to happen every time,” Jungkook said, pain coming through in his voice.

“Jungkook you know how badly I want this too right? It’s not just you hurting here,” Jimin said.

“We’ve been trying for two years to find a surrogate and when we find one we want, they always pick someone else. Why? Are we that undesirable? I don’t understand,” Jungkook sighed.

“It’s not that,” Jimin whispered. “Maybe it’s just not our turn yet.”

“When is it gonna be our turn, huh?” Jungkook said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“We can’t give up,” Jimin said softly. “I don’t want to give up yet.”

“I know baby,” Jungkook said, kissing Jimin’s cheek softly.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. These poor men were really hurting for a baby. A family to call their own.

Sitting up Jimin and Jungkook looked at you in fear.

“Y/N? Y-You were awake-oh God I’m so sorry you had to hear that-” Jimin said frantically.

“I picked you two,” you said.

Their eyes shot up to meet yours.

Jungkook’s were glossy from unshed tears and Jimin’s were widening by the second.

“You what?”

“I said I picked you two. I want to surrogate for you two,” you explained.

“But-in the nursery you said-” Jimin started.

“I said I had picked someone, I didn’t say who silly,” you smiled.

“Oh thank you Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming over to hold your hand in his.

“You don’t know what this means to us,” Jimin said.

“I know you two want this baby more than anything, I want to give it to you. Honestly, you two have waited long enough,” you said, heart stammering at the look of hope in their eyes.

“You’re perfect Y/N! Seriously!” Jimin cried, holding onto Jungkook for dear life.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet. I’m supposed to go in for the, you know, business end of it on Monday. They said they’d call you tomorrow. I just gave my answer today,” you told them.

“Okay, alright sounds good,” Jungkook said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“You gonna be okay?” You asked, looking at the two of them.

“Of course, more than okay.”

—

Monday creeped up on you quickly, faster than you thought.

You went to the clinic and sat down, getting signed in and everything before you saw Jungkook and Jimin waltz in looking like a million bucks.

Dressed head to toe in designer clothing, you realized you didn’t know what they did for a living. You hadn’t really looked at their profiles all that much. But you knew their baby would have everything they could ever want and more.

Smiling at them and waving, the two of them made their way over to you.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Jimin asked, sitting down in the chair next to you.

“Just waiting,” you said, looking at the pair of them together.

They looked like the traditional power couple. Strong, dependable and handsome to boot. It was kind of overwhelming.

Jungkook was wringing his hands together, biting his lip as he looked around the room.

“You alright Jungkook?”

“Yeah just-”

“Mr. Jeon, Mr. Park and Miss Y/N? The legal assistant will see you now,” a voice from the corner called.

“Let’s go,” you said, standing up and heading towards the back room.

You sat down and the rules of the road were laid out.

If you signed the contract Jimin and Jungkook were the parents of the child. You had no rights unless they said otherwise. You would be given a lump sum of money, transferred into your bank account the day they know you’re pregnant and expecting. If anything happens to the baby such as a miscarriage or something of the like that you had no control over, you would be able to keep the money. But, they would like to try again to see if the next one stuck better.

“So, if you conceive twins, which your likelihood is good, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park have agreed to pay you double,” you almost choked on your drink.

Double?

“What?” You squeaked out.

“It’s written right here,” the legal assistant said, pointing to the document in her hands.

“Okay,” you said softly, not wanting to make either of them uncomfortable.

“The total of your payment will come to $153,000 dollars,” the legal assistant said. “If you conceive twins.”

Your head swirled.

What would you do with all that money? Jimin and Jungkook looked at you with worry.

“I-Is it not enough? We can give you more if you want-”

“No! No no, that is totally acceptable. More than,” you said.

“Okay, just making sure,” Jimin answered.

“If you would please initial here, Miss Y/N. And then a signature here at the bottom and then you two will also need to sign as well,” she said.

After all the paperwork was done your date for insemination was set.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at you as you walked out of the clinic.

“Hey! Y/N! Hold on,” Jungkook said, walking forward.

“Huh? What is it?” You asked turning around.

Jungkook’s bright eyes blinded you as he gazed into your own. But you kept your breathing steady as you could.

“Do you want a ride home? Jimin and I cleared our schedules so we could be here today, and... Well we don’t want you to get hurt or anything,” he said, pointing to the black suburban.

“Oh, it’s alright I was gonna go to the bookstore and get a few things and then head home but I’ll be fine, no worries,” you smiled.

“We insist, Y/N,” Jimin said, walking forward to take his partner’s hand.

“Um, well... It’s really not that far, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” you said.

“Well, if you’re really sure,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you two on Thursday right? That’s when I’m supposed to... Well, you know,” your said, looking down at your feet.

“Of course! If you want us to be there that is,” Jimin said.

“Yes, it’s your baby,” you said.

“Okay, we’ll see you Thursday then,” Jungkook agreed, waving at you before he and Jimin got into the suburban and left.

But you couldn’t help the feeling you had as you watched them drive away.

Sadness.

—

You walked into the clinic Thursday morning, sweat pooling in your palms. You were reaching the end of your wire at your apartment. And you weren’t going to get the money in time. You were worried and didn’t want to bother Namjoon and Jin... So you just kept it to yourself.

You felt the fear and worry eating you up inside as you sat in the waiting room.

The doctor called your name and you headed back towards the room, when someone shouted your name.

Jimin and Jungkook were there, smiling brightly at you.

Your heart eased at seeing the two men, so happy and radiant. Everything you weren’t currently. But, knowing you were giving them something so important really made you feel better. Even if it was just for the time being.

“Oh my gosh, we’re finally getting a baby!” Jimin squeaked.

“Easy, it’s probably not going to happen first try,” you reminded him of what the doctor said.

“Bet I could get you pregnant in one shot,” Jungkook smirked.

“Oh shush Kook. But if you got her pregnant you wouldn’t get those twins you want so badly now would you, butthead,” Jimin said, shoving the younger man around slightly.

You tried to keep yourself from blushing but the redness that twinged your cheeks was there regardless. You were here to get pregnant, that was the end goal of today.

“Alright, Miss Y/N, we’re going to take you back and get you all set and then Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon have said they wanted to take you home after. Is that alright with you?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, that’s fine,” you said.

“Okay, let’s head back then,” Jungkook gave you a gentle smile before Jimin came forward and gave your knuckles a quick kiss.

“Good luck, Y/N,” he said.

“Thanks,” you answered before heading back.

The whole process took around a hour and a half, most of it waiting.

The sensation wasn’t too bad, but you were a little uncomfortable. Everything was super sterile and not how you expected you’d get pregnant, but... It wasn’t your baby at the end of the day. You tried not to wiggle as you laid there, letting Jimin’s seed try to impregnate you.

Finally, the timer went off and you were allowed to leave to go home.

Jimin and Jungkook were sat in the waiting room, chatting with each other excitedly. You knew that this was it, that they were more than perfect for this baby. You were beyond happy you could give it to them.

“Y/N!” Jimin said, walking up to greet you.

“Hey,” you said easily, noticing Jungkook come up behind him.

“We’re here to take you home!” Jimin smiled.

“Thanks guys,” you said softly.

“We brought the car around already so you don’t have to walk too much. Don’t wanna spoil all our hard work,” Jimin said, looking at your tummy with affection.

“Like I said Jimin, it probably won’t happen this time. But you never know, you might have some strong swimmers,” you joked.

“You have no idea, Y/N,” he said, gazing into your eyes for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat. He looked like an angel wrapped in sin, as if he were so good yet so bad for you. It made your head spin.

Jungkook held the car door open for you and you got in carefully. Jimin sat in the back with you while Jungkook sat up front.

Of course these two had a driver...

Jimin was looking out the window and noticed that they were getting into the sketchier part of town. His worry was eating him alive. He didn’t want the mother of his child staying here! That simply wouldn’t do.

You got out of the car, heading towards your apartment when the landlord approached you. Jungkook and Jimin were still getting out of the car when he exploded at you.

“There’s the little bitch now!” He growled, grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully.

You yelped, trying not to move so much. It only made it hurt more.

“Let me go!” You said.

“You filthy cunt, you owe me almost six thousand dollars! And you dare to come back here without anything? Huh? Nothing? Where have you been huh? Selling your body to make some cash I bet, that’s what little whore’s like you do right? Fucking pathetic,” he spits at you.

“I-I just need a little more time-” a resounding smack is heard through the parking lot.

Jimin and Jungkook look up to see your head turned sharply to the side and a man gripping your wrist.

Both of the men flew off the handle.

“Let go of her you fucker!” Jungkook yelled, walking forward with purpose.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jimin growled, pulling you away from the man.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Jungkook said, looking at your reddened cheek.

“Bitch owes me money, she knows that-”

“Fucker!” Jungkook snarled, grabbing the man by his shirt and lifting him.

“Y/N? Sweetie can you hear me?” Jimin whispered. Your head was swimming with pain and discomfort. Your cheek was screaming at you. But what hurt worse was the embarrassment. They saw it all, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. How on earth were you going to take care of a baby if you got pregnant for nine months? Huh?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, he hurt you. Jungkook put him down and call the cops,” Jimin said.

“I owe him money, I just-”

“You can’t arrest me! You fuckheads, do you know who I am?” He asked.

“Do you know who we are? Hi I’m Jeon Jungkook, heir to the Jeon Law Firm here in the city. You might have heard of us, and she is the mother of my future child and you won’t be putting your hands on her ever again,” Jungkook said.

“I just wanna leave, I don’t... I don’t wanna be here,” you whimpered.

“But Y/N,” Jimin said.

“Can we leave? Please?” You begged, looking up at him with a swollen cheek and glossy eyes. Jimin’s heart broke five times over, seeing you so upset.

“Jungkook, come on. Let’s go,” Jimin said.

“And leave her with this fucking piece of shit? I think not, no we’re going to-Y/N? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked, coming forward and looking at your face with a tenderness you didn’t know was there.

“We’ll take her home with us,” Jimin said easily.

“Okay, yeah. But we’re calling the cops on that dickbag when we get back. I want him arrested for hurting her,” Jungkook said with finality.

“Of course baby,” Jimin said, soothing the younger male.

“Can we just go?” You asked, looking up at them for a moment.

“Yes, of course we can, let’s get you in the car and go back to our place,” Jungkook said, coming forward and getting into the back seat this time. Jimin encouraged you to get inside, so you did, him following shortly thereafter.

“Take us home please,” Jungkook said, shutting the little window between the front of the car and the back.

You sat between the two men, each of them looking out the window and appearing to be deep in thought. You were as well. You hoped this didn’t affect your chances of getting pregnant. You don’t know what you’d do if you couldn’t get this baby. The prospect of so much money on the line, you very future.

Also, you worried for Jungkook and Jimin. You really wanted this to work for their sake too.

They’d been waiting so long.

You were swallowed into the dreamscape of your thoughts. Nothing really getting in or out of your mind. You were just reeling at everything that had happened in less than four hours. You had your first attempt at insemination, went home and got assaulted and now you were heading to the upper end of the city with the two men who wanted you to have a baby for them.

This was all so much to handle.

Finally, the car stopped moving and Jimin quickly ushered you out of the vehicle. You stood there and looked up at the stunning building with a weird sense of fear. It loomed over you, almost intimidatingly so.

Jimin told the driver to go park the car and take the rest of the day off while Jungkook gathered their things from the back. You looked around and noticed that people were staring at you.

No doubt you looked like a sore pink thumb right now. Tear stained and swollen cheeks making you look even more outlandish in the area. But, Jungkook quickly moved everyone inside.

The door man asked who you were and Jimin and Jungkook simply told the truth.

“She’s our surrogate, we’re having her stay with us for a while. If she needs anything, make sure she gets it!” Jimin said.

“Absolutely Mr. Park,” the doorman said.

“Come on Y/N,” Jungkook said, heading towards the elevator.

You followed behind them quickly, getting in the mirrored elevator. Looking at yourself you felt all the anxiety and fear come back. You didn’t belong here, you were wearing a pair of fucked up jeans, a flannel and t-shirt. They were dressed in beautiful clothing, dipped in the finest silks and satins.

You looked like a charity case no doubt.

It made your stomach churn in discomfort. But you kept your mouth shut. You were providing them with a service. And in turn they were paying you. It was a give and take situation. But you couldn’t help but feel as though you were taking more than you were giving.

Jungkook held the door while you and Jimin entered the house. You looked around and the apartment was massive. Bigger than your Aunt’s tiny house in the country. You wondered just how much money these two had.

Soon, Jimin was sitting you down on the couch and tending to your cheek. His heart crumpled when you flinched at his touch. He tried not to take it personally, you were literally just assaulted. But he hoped you weren’t scared of him, or Jungkook.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jungkook asked, coming in and sitting next to Jimin.

“No, she’s just a little swollen, she’ll be alright,” Jimin said, handing you the painkillers and some ice.

“Can she have that?” Jungkook asked, referring to the pain medicine.

“It’s acetaminophen she can have it,” Jimin confirmed.

“Okay,” he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin asked, looking at you for any signs of discomfort.

“Not particularly, but I should eat. Especially today,” you said, a weak smile on your face. Jimin nodded, but headed towards the kitchen regardless.

Soon after, a wonderful aroma filled the apartment. But you hadn’t moved from the couch, keeping your eyes trained on the TV Jimin turned on for you. You didn’t particularly want to watch the news, but you weren’t sure on how to work this TV. It made your brain hurt. But, whatever, you kept your eyes on the screen, not looking anywhere in particular.

Jimin soon came out, wearing a smile that must be a signature for him or something. He told you dinner was ready and to follow him. Turning off the TV with a swipe of his finger on the screen you marveled at the technology.

He patted your cheek and brought you into the dining room.

Jungkook was finishing putting the food out when you sat down. He and Jimin were deep in conversation. You picked at your food, eating a few pieces if Jimin put them on your plate. But other than that, you sat unmoving in the corner.

You supposed you were still in shock of what had happened today.

Soon, you felt the distinct cramping in your lower stomach, something you were told is to be expected. Especially if the pregnancy took. Letting out a puff of air, you held your stomach. It wasn’t terrible, but the discomfort had you adjusting in your seat.

Jungkook’s head snapped in your direction, carefully observing you.

“Everything alright? Y/N?” He asked, cocking his head to the side in a cute way.

Forcing a smile you nodded.

“Yeah, just cramping a little bit,” you said, keeping your hands together underneath the table.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked, leaning towards you.

“No-ah!” You said, clutching your stomach. It didn’t hurt as much as it caught you off guard. But the two men were beside you in seconds.

“Y/N? Do you want us to call the doctor?”

“Is there something we can get for you? Do you want more pain medicine?”

“N-No, honestly, I’m okay,” you said, giving them each a squeeze to their wrist.

Jimin nodded, standing up and moved to start cleaning up the meal. Jungkook placed a couple more pieces of meat on your plate, asking you to eat them. He thought it could help your cramping, but he mainly just wanted to see you eat something.

Soon, the pair of them had cleaned up the meal and had gathered some clothes for you to wear to bed.

“We’ll pick up some stuff for you to wear tomorrow,” Jungkook said smiling.

“N-No that’s alright I can go back and get my stuff,” you said.

“You’re not going anywhere near that building,” Jimin warned, voice low.

“What? I have to get my stuff-”

“We’ll have someone go collect your things and bring them back here,” Jimin said, careful.

“I can go it’s not a big deal-”

“Y/N, please, just let us take care of this,” Jungkook said, quietly coming over to your side.

You were far too tired to argue. But you already felt like a cat in a cage. So you waved off the disagreement and decided to just head to bed.

The cramping was still there, but not nearly as bad as it had been when you were at the table. Laying down helped, but you felt something in your underwear.

Quickly, you went to the bathroom and noticed some blood in your underwear. Biting your lip, you tried to keep yourself from panicking. Putting them back on you went to living room and found Jimin sitting on the couch, looking tired.

“J-Jimin,” you said quietly.

His head snapped up and he gave you a little smile.

“Yes, Y/N?” He asked, coming towards you. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“I-I was bleeding,” you said, voice straining slightly.

“You were? Where?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“M-My, uh, I found it in my underwear,” you said, breathing in deeply.

“Was it a lot?” He asked, keeping a cool exterior.

“N-No, not a lot but it worried me,” you said, trying to keep yourself from freaking out on him.

“It’s normal to spot a little after the IUI, don’t worry. But tell me if anymore happens. They did just shove a tube up your business,” he said, laughing lightly.

Immediately you were put at ease. Sensing your relief, Jimin patted your shoulder.

“It’s okay to be nervous, we are,” Jimin said, nodding towards the closed door you assumed was to their bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m-I just really want this to work,” you confessed, feeling yourself relax a bit.

“We do too, more than anything,” Jimin answered, giving you a genuine grin.

“I’m glad that the baby will have you two as parents, makes me feel good knowing that they’ll be taken care of,” you smiled back.

Jimin’s face seemed to morph into a look of joy and agony at the same time.

“You’re too sweet, Y/N, honestly. Jungkook and I are beyond excited,” he explained.

“Have you always wanted to be a father?” You asked him, out of the blue. Jimin blushed and looked down at his feet.

“Y-Yeah, ever since I was little I always wanted a family to call my own. And when I met Jungkook I knew it was just meant to be you know? Like, everything just made sense,” he said, a sheepish look taking over his features.

“That’s so sweet,” you gushed.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged.

“I want someone to look at me the way you look at Jungkook, like I’m their whole world and more. I’ve never been one for dating though,” you said, looking down at the floor, embarrassed.

“No? How many boyfriends or girlfriends have you had?” Jimin asked, not thinking. When the shocked look took over your face he back peddled. “I-I shouldn’t have asked, that doesn’t deem your worth or anything like that-”

“None,” you said, blushing bright red.

Jimin’s face changed.

“Tell me if I’m out of line here, but have you ever, uh... You know, um,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

“Oh? Sex? Yeah, I’ve done it before, but it wasn’t really anything special. I don’t even think I-um... Nevermind,” you said, biting your lip hard.

“You don’t think you what? You didn’t cum?” Jimin said, as if he were shocked.

“No! Now keep your voice down!” You yelped.

Jimin frowned.

“That’s horrible, you deserve better,” Jimin said matter of factly.

“It happens, but, this conversation has gotten away from us,” you said, trying to steer it away from your pathetic sex life and more towards the fact that you both need to go to bed. “I’m tired, had a long day.” You said, rubbing your arms.

“Of course, absolutely! If you need anything or something happens, our room is right here just come get us,” Jimin said.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, turning, but not before you wished him a good night.

Jimin gave you a small smile. “Good night, Y/N, sleep well.”

—

Soon your stuff was all moved into the boys apartment. You questioned when you would be leaving, but the boys said that you didn’t have to worry about departing for the foreseeable future.

They had originally wanted you to live with them if and when they found out you were pregnant, that way they could be there through it all. But, these stages after the insemination could be hard on you and they decided to keep you with them.

You felt like a little kid half the time, but you had to call in to work often because of these appointments. And quickly, they tired of it.

“Y/N, we love you and we want you to pick here to work, but honestly your attendance is a severe issue right now,” your supervisor said over the phone. You called in that day because you just were feeling super exhausted.

You hadn’t told them you’d signed up for a surrogacy. You weren’t sure how that would go over, but, maybe you had to if you wanted to save your job.

“I-I’m calling in all the time because I’m trying to get pregnant,” you said softly.

Laughter came from the other side of the phone.

You were being laughed at.

“Oh my God, Y/N, that’s hilarious! But seriously, I have to put you on a two week suspension without pay because-”

“Dawn, I'm serious. I signed up with the fertility clinic and I’m currently trying to become a surrogate for a lovely couple,” you said, honestly.

“Y/N, why did you sign up for that? As far as any of us knew, you weren’t that into kids,” Dawn said over the phone.

“I-I like kids, but the baby won’t be mine to keep. The couple gets to keep them once they are born. I lose all rights as a parent,” you explained.

“That’s kinda cruel... Let you carry the baby for nine months then force you to leave them. I don’t know if I could do that,” she said.

“I-It’s the way it is,” you said. “But I need to have the day off, I have an appointment at the clinic.”

“Y/N, would it be easier if we just let you quit?” Dawn said.

“What?!” You shrieked into the phone.

“Well, it’s a delicate time and we'd have you working on your feet for long hours. I don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby,” she said, sounding sad.

“But I don’t wanna leave you guys,” you whimpered.

“Well, once the little tike is born come back. We’ll hire you back, I promise. If you want to come back,” she offered.

“Y-You’ll really let me come back?” You said, biting your lip.

It would be nice to just focus on the pregnancy and helping Jungkook and Jimin. If you had the option, maybe it would be better to take her advice and go back when you were ready. Hopefully they don’t screw you over.

“Of course we will! We love you! But, right now isn’t the best time for you to be working. Focus on you and your little bundle okay? We’ll be waiting,” she said.

“Oh thank you Dawn! I love you guys too!”

After a little tears ‘see you later’, you hung up.

Soon, a soft knock came to your door. Looking up you saw Jungkook there, dressed to the nines looking at you. Raising a brow you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” You said, setting your phone down to give him your undivided attention.

“I was wondering if you needed a ride to work, you’re already an hour late,” he said, pointing to the clock on your wall.

“Oh, about that,” you said, rubbing your hands together.

“Did something happen? Did they fire you for being our surrogate? Oh just let me make one phone call, that’s illegal! I’m a lawyer, let me talk some sense into them!” Jungkook said, turning to walk out.

“No, Jungkook! It’s fine, they told me to take the time off. To spend time focusing on myself and to take care of the baby,” you explained. “My job will be there when I’m ready to return.”

Jungkook stopped and looked at you. His features softened before nodding.

“Okay, but if they try to tell you you can’t go back when you’re ready, you just tell me. I won’t let anyone disrespect or lie to you,” he said, a stern look on his face.

“Thanks Jungkook, that means a lot,” you said, giving a smile.

“There’s food in the fridge, all you have to do is heat it up. You have the house to yourself so, do whatever you want,” Jungkook said, waving before walking out of your room.

You sat there for a minute, really mulling over what you wanted to do. Honestly, you were so sore and tired you just wanted to fall back asleep. But you decided that it was better to get up and do some activity. Hopefully that would be okay.

It had been about ten days since your IUI appointment and you were mainly just tired. Although fatigue was a symptom of an attachment. But that was the only symptom you were having, you were meant to test in a couple days to see if you were pregnant, but something had you worried.

If you weren’t pregnant, you’d have to wait a whole other month. They did tell you that sometimes it took multiple tries to successfully impregnate someone. But you really wanted this to work, you just wanted to get this going.

That way Jimin and Jungkook could have their baby already.

You knew they’d be amazing fathers, already with their dutiful actions towards you. So willing to do whatever you asked, but you tried your best not to pester them too much. You tried to make it as though you weren’t even there. But they insisted you join them for dinner so they could make sure you were eating well.

For your day you mainly just puttered around the house, picking up and doing little things that wouldn’t aggravate you. So, you settled down with a book in your hands and soft music playing in the background.

That’s how Jimin and Jungkook found you when they came home. Curled up on the couch with a novel between your fingers. Jimin smiled softly, looking at the picturesque scene.

“Do you think she’s pregnant?” Jungkook asked, looking at his boyfriend with apprehension.

“I hope so,” Jimin answered.

“She’s really tired lately, sleeping late and going to bed early. That’s a sign, right?” Jungkook said.

“It is, but that’s also a sign of a woman’s period coming up,” Jimin warned.

“Damn...” Jungkook said, rubbing his face.

“But I don’t know, she’s due to test soon so, we might have our baby,” Jimin soothed.

You looked up from your book, noticing the pair in the entryway. Giving them a shy smile, you waved, nose getting buried back in the book. Jimin laughed lightly, heading towards the kitchen.

The two cooked dinner, making something easy to digest. Your stomach was on the fritz yesterday so they want to make sure they don’t upset your sensitive tummy. But, as Jimin looked out at you reading on the couch, a blanket draped along your lap. He couldn’t help but love the domesticity of it all. You looked at peace, in your element and comfortable.

Jimin hoped it would stay that way. With you, comfy and cared for.

Jungkook rushed past with the boiling soup in his hands, moving quick like a little kid to set the table for you all. Jimin just laughed, smacking his butt when he came back.

“Hey! Paws off,” Jungkook pouted.

“Hmm? That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Jimin laughed at the scandalized look on Jungkook’s face. “I’m kidding, come on go get Y/N so we can eat.”

Jungkook went to gather you from the living room and was met with an unusual sight. You passed out, wrapped in the blanket with your book on the floor.

He smiled, moving towards you slowly. He placed a soft hand on your head, patting your hair gently. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up at him with sleepy eyes. Jungkook helped you up, leading you to the dining room.

The meal was quiet, Jungkook and Jimin making small talk with you, but mostly you were just eating peacefully.

You ate well and leaned back, as you tended to do when you were full and let out a huff. Jimin repressed the smile on his face with the back of his hand. Jungkook smiled openly, looking at your sleepy form.

Sitting back up you took a few more swallows of water before you stood up and thanked them for the meal and headed towards your room.

Jungkook and Jimin watched you go, each having a weird tightening in their chest at the sight of your swaying hips.

—

You had finally reached the two week mark.

Time to test.

Jimin and Jungkook went with you, driving you to the clinic for your appointment at the ass crack of dawn it felt like.

Jimin was chatting excitedly in the front seat with Jungkook. You could see the looks of love on their faces as they talked about their future with their child. It made butterflies rise in your stomach.

Quickly smacking your cheeks, you tried to forget the sensation of hope building in your belly.

Soon you were all at the clinic, Jimin helping you out of the car. The two men walked on either side of you, making sure everyone knew who you were here with. It made you feel protected, watched over.

Important.

After all the paperwork was done for the visit, Jungkook and Jimin sat down next to you. They interlocked their hands, smiling brightly at each other. You locked your hands together and looked down at them.

“Miss Y/N? Mr. Park and Mr. Jeon? Are you all ready?” A nurse called and you all headed back to a secluded room, a few chairs and the like ready. You saw the needles and everything set up and you swallowed hard.

You hated needles, with a passion.

But you’d done it before, so you’d do it again.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jungkook asked, looking at your paling face.

“Y-yeah, nervous around needles,” you confessed.

“Oh, do you want some water or something?”

“No I’m okay,” you encouraged.

“If you’re sure,” Jungkook said, looking like he wanted to do more...

“Alright! We’re gonna take some blood and a urine sample, so if you two would just wait outside for a moment while we get her changed, then you can come back in if you want,” the nurse explained.

You got changed and hopped up on the table.

They asked a bunch of questions, all fairly standard. Then they brought out the needles. Jimin saw you flinch when the packaging came off and you saw the syringe come closer.

“Hang on,” Jimin said, standing up.

The nurse stopped and looked up in confusion, that’s when Jimin took your hand in his and squeezed.

“You can hold my hand while they take your blood okay? Just squeeze if you need to,” he said, looking at your face for any signs of resistance.

You bit your lip and nodded.

The nurse took your blood quickly, getting a few vials full. Jungkook watched as his boyfriend held your hand the whole time, keeping you calm and at ease.

He hoped with everything he was that this had worked.

God, he wanted it to work so bad.

Soon, the two men were being ushered out of the room so you could do your urine sample.

After everything was done and over with, you got dressed and went to the waiting room. Jimin and Jungkook stood up when they saw you, waving you over to sit with them.

All three of you waited with baited breath as they ran the tests. They kept asking if you wanted anything, water, juice or something to eat. But you politely declined. Knowing if you put anything in your body right now you’d puke it up immediately with how nervous you were for the results.

They said it shouldn’t take too long.

It had been about an hour when a nurse popped her head out, signaling for all three of you to come back.

“Dr. Heinz will see you now,” she said, giving you all a small smile before leading you down the hallway towards the offices.

Shortly, you were sat on a comfortable sofa with Jungkook and Jimin in front of you. Jungkook and Jimin were holding onto each other so tight you feared for their circulation. But, Dr. Heinz was quick to get to the point.

“Well, I want to say, congratulations, Mr. Jeon and Mr. Park... Y/N is pregnant,” he said, talking like you weren’t in the room.

“Oh my God!” Jungkook shouted, standing up and hugging Jimin to him tightly. They kissed several times, tears falling freely down the new father’s faces. Dr. Heinz let them have their moment, smiling at the happy couple. You looked down at your stomach and bit your lip.

So this was really happening...

“Jungkook, I love you,” Jimin said, holding onto his boyfriend tightly.

“I love you too babe, I love you too,” Jungkook affirmed.

“Okay we do have to discuss her health however,” Dr. Heinz said, having the men sit down quickly.

“Is she alright?” Jimin said, looking at you with worry written all over his features.

“She’s at a very fragile point in the pregnancy. IUI can be tricky so we need to be very careful with what happens next. I don’t want her doing anything strenuous. Especially with the lower body until we can get her in for an ultrasound. Her uterus looked good on her preliminary but getting pregnant can really affect a woman’s body, so we need to take all the precautions,” Dr. Heinz explained.

“But is she going to be okay?” Jungkook asked, placing a gentle hand on yours.

You looked at his big hand covering yours, blinking slowly.

“I’m worried about her low white blood cell count. That makes her more susceptible to colds and infections, so you need to be very careful. Her red blood cell count was also low, showing early signs of anemia. So lots of red meat and protein to help keep her levels up. Although the anemia will be aggravated by the pregnancy, so make sure she doesn’t stand up too fast or tax herself too much,” he said.

“I am right here,” you said, glaring at the doctor.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, they’re the parents in this situation. I want them to be informed of your situation,” Dr. Heinz said bluntly.

“There are four of us in this room, I’ll remind you of that. Don’t talk like I’m not here please,” you said, folding your hands and crossing your legs.

Jimin almost burst out laughing.

Damn you were feisty!

He really liked that...

“I-I apologize, Miss Y/N,” he said, swallowing quickly before continuing on. “Also, you’re going to start having more symptoms than the fatigue you mentioned. Morning sickness is extremely common and expected, although every woman is different. Headaches, dizziness and blurred vision are also to be noted. Even some spotting can happen, but please do tell us if you’re spotting or bleeding. Now, do any of you have questions?” The doctor asked, looking at the boys and you.

“Is there any way to know if we are expecting, more than one?” Jimin asked, looking down at your stomach with pure adoration on his face.

“We won’t really know until she’s further along. Quite a bit further actually. But for now, enjoy this. Enjoy the early stages, it’ll be tough but you can pull through. I wish you all the best of luck,” Dr. Heinz said, handing some paperwork over to Jungkook before the three of you stood up and headed out.

Jimin and Jungkook were so excited, chatting with each other about if they were having twins. If the baby was a boy or girl. You were in the car, hands folded in your lap while you looked out the window.

Honestly, you were scared out of your mind.

The doctor had mentioned this was a really fragile part of the pregnancy. That you’d have to be careful, not to mention it was important for your own health as well. If something happened to the baby, something could happen to you and vice versa.

Jungkook insisted on taking everyone out for dinner.

This was a big occasion after all.

Sitting down in the very resturant you all had your first meal in, felt kinda surreal.

Now, you were pregnant with their baby. It felt kinda full circle.

Jimin and Jungkook insisted on getting whatever you wanted. But you weren’t terribly hungry yet, maybe it was the nerves of the whole day catching up. But you ordered a few things, making sure to eat. You knew it made them happy when you did, because it showed you cared about your body and the life growing inside of you.

Jungkook was drinking, a lot if you were being honest. Jimin just watched him as his cheeks flushed red as he continued to talk animatedly at the two of you. Smiling, you filled up Jungkook’s water before urging him to drink some.

“Thanks youuu,” he said, beaming at you.

“You’re welcome, but drink up okay?” You said, gesturing towards the glass.

He did as you asked, drinking all the water. You sighed in relief, knowing at least he’d be hydrated when he went to bed.

“Well, guess you aren’t driving you big lug,” Jimin laughed as he hauled Jungkook out of the restaurant a while later.

“Mmm, we’re having a baby baby!” Jungkook cooed at Jimin, holding his cheeks in between his hands.

“Mhmm, yes we are. Now get in the back with Y/N, okay?” Jimin said, opening the back and helping his very tipsy boyfriend inside. You were about to climb in when Jimin placed his hands on your hips, causing you to jolt so hard you smacked your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you said, holding your head tightly.

“Y/N!” Jimin yelped. Jungkook’s head popped up.

“What happened?” He asked, looking at you with bleary eyes.

“I just smacked my head, I’m alright,” you said, rubbing your head gingerly.

“Can I take a look?” Jimin asked, biting his plump lips harshly.

“Y-yeah,” you said, leaning towards him.

Jimin’s gentle hands on your scalp proved to be dangerous. Because now, you wanted him to touch you here all the time. Combing his fingers through your hair. Massaging the tender flesh there.

“Well, you aren’t bleeding, but you’ll have a massive bump for a few days no doubt,” he reasoned.

“She’s gonna have a massive bump here soon too!” Jungkook cheered happily, pointing at your stomach.

“Jungkook, enough,” Jimin warned.

Grumbling to himself, Jungkook backed off.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jimin asked. You nodded, already feeling the throbbing in the base of your skull starting.

“I’ll take a few pain killers when we get back,” you said.

“Okay,” Jimin said, running his hand from your head down to cradle your cheek in his palm. You’re cheeks heated up at the feeling of his skin on yours, but shortly he was retreating to the front of the car.

Soon, you were underway.

Jimin turned on the radio quietly, driving carefully around town.

Jungkook had managed to fall asleep against the window. When suddenly, the car was jerking to the side. Jimin laid on the horn, yelling a couple explicit words out the window. But, Jungkook’s body had already fallen into your lap.

His head rested comfortably against your thighs, arms draping across your legs. Jungkook continued to sleep peacefully while you inspected him. He had a beautiful nose, button like and slotting perfectly along with his already perfect features. His plush lips pouting as he slept. Your eyes widened at him, heart hammering in your chest as you gazed down at him.

He was incredibly handsome.

But, you knew his personality too. He was kind, but strong and sure of himself. He had an air of confidence that was almost infectious. But he also had a childish nature about him. Not immature, but there was something about the wonder in his eyes when he tried something new. Or the nostalgia that ran through him when he ate his favorite food or, just the sparkle in his eyes when Jimin came home.

You, as if possessed, took your hand and ran your fingers through his soft black hair. He groaned in his sleep, gripping your legs tighter. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jimin looked in the rearview mirror and saw you stroking Jungkook’s head with a gentle hand. His heart thudded dangerously in his chest. You were so caring and tender, everything you did had purpose behind it.

Jimin felt relief flood him at the idea of you being the mother of he and Jungkook’s child. Technically just Jimin’s but Jungkook was also the father but he didn’t get any genetics in this one.

This one...

Did Jimin want to have more children?

You just got the announcement today and he was already giddy at the prospect of you growing large with his child. But confusion swept through him. Was this just because he was grateful to you? Or was it something more?

Looking at you and Jungkook in the back, he thinks he might already know the answer.

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #BTS #BTS smut #Jikook x reader #Jikook #Bangtan #BTS fanfic #Jikook smut #Jikook x reader smut #Pregnancy au #Jimin x jungkook x reader #Surrogacy Au

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illusionsofdreaming · 2 years

Text

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ oh my ♥ what's this? Illu's trying a challenge?

you got that right~ May's going to be the special month for Illu, so Illu thought, why not challenge myself and have some fun at the same time amirite? ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

hang on now illu, it’s only April why are you talking about May? 1. I’d rather get this out into the world now so I don’t chicken out later. 2. Just in case people want to question my sanity, now is the time to do it. 3. if you want to join on my self destructive journey - you now have ample warning and time to prepare. because I'm a glutton for punishment, I decided for every day of May, I will write 100 words imagines following a prompt list. that's 31 imagines queued up for May unless I fudge up because life likes to throw curve balls. anyways, I decided I'll open it up to the public as well because maybe there are kindred masochists out there who'd love to join in the pain! Without further ado let me reveal the self made prompt list:

oh and before I forget of course, as this is a daily challenge that'll be lasting the entire month of May, feel free to exclude the tag #illu's may challenge if you do not want to receive notifications for this event when the time comes!

Breathe - Beacrox

Citrus - Alberu

Fine Print - Alberu

Forbidden - Ron

Craving - Rosalyn

Alchemy - Ron

Collision - Lock

Ghost - Cale

Mirage - Kim Rok Soo

Gift - Lock

Sincerity - Rosalyn

Ouroboros - Beacrox

Elusive - Toonka

Mercy - Cale

Reaper - Beacrox

Fearless - Cale

FREE

Poison - Cale

Inevitable - Cale

Mortal - Rosalyn

Slacker - Mary

Silence - White Star

Disobedience - Choi Han

Stagnant - Kim Rok Soo

Jewel - Bud

Privilege - Choi Han

Trash - Beacrox

Seconds - Eruhaben

Tackle - Lock

Lost - Eruhaben

Home - Raon

as you might have noticed, there are names beside word prompts - that’s just an added level of difficulty for myself because I like pain. Throughout the challenge I’ll be following a loose set of guidelines which you’re free to follow along or not! I’d like to mention that this is a creative challenge! Which means you’re free to use whatever medium you like (be it moodboards, songs, haikus, art) to express yourself! The only real rule here is to have fun!

(」°ロ°)」Guidelines for illu:

I must write exactly 100 words for each prompt. Not one word less, not one word more.

referring to reader’s name counts towards the word count (aka. _____ is one word. y/n is one word. y/n l/n is two.)

punctuations do not count towards the word count

The prompts are suggestions. I do not have to use them within the writing nor do they have to make an appearance.

reader does not have to be involved in the imagines

any prompts with underaged characters will be platonic

(ノ*°▽°*) good job reaching this point without turning away haha I’ve got some special news as well.. I don’t know if there’ll be people who’d like to join in on my crazy challenge but if there are, I’d like to show appreciation for those who manage to finish all 31 days with me because that’s dedication (*´ I `)ﾉﾟ(ﾉД｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

I really don’t have much to offer except my words so for those who have completed all 31 days with me (just filling the prompts is enough! no need to follow the character challenge but ++10000 points if you do!) I’ll write whatever imagine you want. And by whatever, I really mean whatever. Any fandom (that I know of), any genre, any AUs, Character x Characters, self inserts, customising Reader’s name, first person POV, third person POV, and yes, I will write NSFW if you so wish. Your request will be placed 1st on the priority list, above all WIPs and sent personally to you when completed (unless you wish for it to be shared publicly) and it’ll at least have a minimum of 1000 words.

Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee a set timeline to complete it because I work full time and I might not always have time to write but- I’ll promise it’ll be done in a timely manner.

In the case that there’ll be more than one person who completes the challenge with me (I doubt it but just in case anyways) random.org will pick 2 users. So yes, it means I’ll gift out two 1000 worded imagines by the end of this event if it blows up or something - erk.

Please remember tag me in your posts and use the challenge’s tag (#illu’s may challenge) so I don’t miss out on your wonderful entries!

FAQs

Where’s the prompt list from?

myself. I chose words based on a whim.

How did you decide on the characters?

I had 16 character names listed + one free slot and put that into random.org to pair up each prompt with a character. Random.org didn’t like my free slot, nor any of the other characters apparently.

Cale... and Kim Rok Soo? (・・;)ゞ Whether Cale means OG!Cale or KRS!Cale is entirely up to you! I deliberately put both names there just to tickle the creative brain cells!

What does FREE mean?

it’s a spechul day, so you can decide on whatever prompt you wish to use!

Can I join anonymously?

of course! you’re free to submit via the askbox any time! however please do keep in mind that if you complete the entire challenge anonymously, regretfully you’ll be unable to participate in the prizes as it’s hard to tell anons apart.. unless you’ve used a nickname or symbol to differentiate yourself from others.

Oops I missed a day...｡･ﾟﾟ*(>д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ it doesn’t matter! this is a fun thing I decided to hold on a whim! There’s no pressure to complete it or even follow my prompts! Create for whatever fandom you wish and whenever you want!

#illu's may challenge #tcf #trash of the count's family #writing challenge #prompt list #31 days #100 words #challenge #word prompts #why do i do this to myself #to be fair #if i'm going to age #i might as well make it a trial

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asset35-maya · 3 years

Note

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

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angelamajiki · 3 years

Text

[ study date - part two ]

PARING: Bully! Yandere! Hawks x Reader x Bully! Yandere! Dabi

CW: quirkless college au, yandere, noncon/dubcon, mindbreak, dacryphilia, boot licking, boot humping, humiliation, degradation, cum eating, spanking, physical abuse, verbal abuse, scumbag dabihawks

AN: finally part two is here!! sorry about the long wait. mind the tags and enjoy!!

PART ONE

The situation was all too suspicious. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you knew the two of them had something to do with it. They always have something conniving up their sleeves, inventing new ways to torment you.

Not less than a day ago did you receive that dreaded phone call, and of course, the pair of them were there to witness your breakdown because of it. Because of your failing grade in chemistry, your scholarship was revoked which meant that you lost your housing privileges for the campus. And those two seemed all too happy to watch you crumble and sob in front of them like a child.

“Sounds like you're down on your luck, princess. What's a girl to do?”

Touya was all too pleased about the situation, the smug bastard. A warm hand made a place for itself on your lower back as it rubbed circles of faux sympathy. Sobs dribbled from your mouth as his hands moved lower to grip your hips from behind.

“Now, now, Touya. Don't tease her like that.” Keigo tutted, leaning against the wall next to the two of you. “Perhaps we coulda let our girlfriend come stay with us.” He sighed dramatically, quirking his brow at you before looking away.

So that was it. They wanted you to grovel at their feet and beg for mercy if you wanted their help, just like last time.

“Too bad we don't have one, doll. Ya made yourself pretty clear that you just aren't interested in us. Such a shame, we coulda been a real big help, ya know.”

Touya patted you on the back before walking off down the hall with Keigo, leaving your tear-stricken face all alone.

“W...Wait!” It came out more desperate than you could have hoped. The two of them stopped but refused to turn to look at you. The silence was deafening. “I’ll go out with the both of you. I'll be your girlfriend.”

Admission alone should have been good enough for them, but your constant denial had left them greedy for more.

“And just how do we know you're not looking to mooch off us, babe?”

Rats, they were right. You had no way to prove you wouldn't just use them, abuse them, and lose them.

“Touya, I thought I said to stop teasing princess.” Keigo chuckled, turning to look at you with narrowed eyes. “Of course, we’ll go out with you; nothing would make us happier to call you our girl.”

Taking your hand, he helped you up off the bench and swiped the tears from your eyes. Humiliation flushed your face as you struggled to look anywhere but his hawk-like eyes.

“C’mon, doll. Let’s go clean out your dorm and head back to our place.”

»»————-　　————-««

Back in your apartment, the boys made quick of boxing up your things and loading them into Keigo’s pick-up. The poor distraught thing you were, the bathroom is where you holed yourself up and cried your heart out. The fact that you had to stoop as low as to live with your bullies to survive? And you thought you couldn't be more humiliated than the last time they offered helo. It’ll be temporary; you tried to convince yourself. You'll stay with them a few weeks and be on your merry way, finding someone else to stay with. Hell, you’ll couch surf if you have to. Anything was better than staying with those demons.

“Hey, doll!” Touya rapped his fingers on the door thrice before opening up to your crying form. “Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears. Your boyfriends are here to help.” His wolfish grin said otherwise.

“Bird brain and I finished packing your shit. Let's hit the road.”

A rough hand yanked you up from the floor, tugging you along. A yelp flew from your mouth before you could stop it as you pushed up against the sink, pinned in by Touya’s hips on yours.

“On second thought, I can't let my pretty girl feel so down, now can I? Let me give you something that’ll cheer ya up.”

A hard tent nestled its way up your skirt as he ground his hips against you.

“Let your man take care of you, huh? I’ll give you something good to cry about.”

Keigo was content to watch from the doorway as his partner continued to make you squirm under him.

“Besides, we haven't discussed payment. Rent ain’t free, princess.”

God, were these men cruel to you. You can't really expect any less from the men who were content to bully you in the first place.

“All my money was from the scholarship; I don’t-”

A hearty laugh came from the blonde, eyes narrowing in on your pinned form.

“Who said anything about money?” He quipped, sauntering over to you and took your chin in his hand. “You can pay us back with your obedience. We want a well-behaved slut that we can come home to, not some brat we have to take kicking and screaming.”

What choice did you have? They had you pinned in a corner, like a mouse caught by two feral cats who were just a bit too hungry to have any kind of patience to play games.

“I-I understand.” You swallowed, nodding in Keigo’s palm.

“Really now.” Touya drawled out, taking Keigo’s spot in the doorway. It was apparent they didn't want you to bolt on them. “I’m not convinced. You gotta prove yourself to us first, little girl.”

The bare mattress creaked under his weight as he took a seat in your room, legs spread as he motioned you towards him with his finger. Keigo, although reluctantly, let go of your face and locked both doors as he took a seat in the corner, seemingly content to watch the display.

A throaty chuckle left the man as you stood in front of him.

“Strip.”

The command left you shivering under his predatory gaze, a low whistle coming from his mouth as he fucked you with his eyes.

“Kei, put on some music.”

“Yes, sir.” He purred, using his phone for tunes and snatching yours from your purse before pocketing it in his jacket. Girls, Girls, Girls by Mötley Crüe filled the walls of your dorm, both men gratified by watching your little dance for them.

First went your shirt, tossed off onto the floor as your face flushed with shame. Tears welled in your eyes before you screwed them shut while swaying to the music.

“Hey! Eyes open and on me, little girl.” Touya snapped, spanking the side of your ass as punishment. You hiccuped, sucking in a breath to hold back the tears. The stress of the situation weighed you down, bursting you at the seams as you openly sobbed while removing your bra. Music blaring and laughs all around from Touya; you looked to Keigo for help; he always seemed to be on your side. Head thrown back against the wall, he jerked himself to the sound of your cries, winking and whistling as you looked back at him.

“Hurry it up; you're not very good at dancing, doll. You're stiff as a board.”

“She’s not the only one who's stiff.”

Cackles and guffaws filled the room, piercing your ears to the point where you thought you would go deaf at the next sound of their voices. Mindlessly, your clothes were haphazardly thrown off before you crumpled into a ball on the floor, shaking and sobbing.

“Aww, is baby having a bad day? Come to daddy.”

Touya helped you up off the floor before placing your bare cunt atop his left boot. “Why don't you relieve some stress, huh?”

The boot jerked under you, pressing up against your clit as you yelped. Getting the memo, you started to grind your hips down against his boot. Your cries quelled as you rocked your hips into a steady rhythm, biting your lip when you felt pleasure began to pool in your gut. How depraved were you? Getting off on your bully's boot while the other one got off to watching you. It was enough to make you sick, forcing you to cling to Touya’s thigh and rest your forehead there. A collection of moans and classic rock music blared in your room, bouncing off the walls so loudly that it made you even hazier.

As much as you wanted to deny it, the man had a point. You might as well submit and let yourself feel good; there's no getting out of it. Gasps and moans left your drooling mouth as you ground your hips on the tip of his boot with enthusiasm, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure slowly crescendoing in your core.

“Atta, girl.” Touya growled, gripping your hair from the scalp as he made eye contact with you. “Look at when you cum.”

Incoherent responses left your lips as you began to cry again, only that it was from pleasure this time. He continued to sustain eye contact as he fisted his cock, letting go of your hair in lieu of sticking his fingers in your mouth and choking you with them. Warbled cries fell onto his fingers as your hips increased in speed, thighs sputtering and shaking as you came close to creaming yourself on his boot.

“Cum on my boot, slut.”

His cock was aimed at your open mouth as you grunted and moaned, eyes cloudy as they rolled back into your bed. You came with a cry, squirting all over his patent-leather boot as your body shook with the sheer force of your orgasm.

Touya was not too far behind you, moaning your name as he shot his seed into your waiting mouth, covering your nose after finishing.

Like the obedient whore they needed you to be, you swallowed. His foot kicked up into you, knocking you off his leg.

“Disgusting. Clean up your mess, bitch.”

Nodding, a small whimper left your mouth as you began to lick your juices off his boot. Kitten licks and long strokes alike made their way around the leather, whining when he would shove his foot roughly in your face at times.

“Y’know, I’m still not convinced, sweetheart,” Keigo called out from behind you, taking a fist full of hair in his clutch as he pulled you up from the floor. “Beg for my forgiveness, and I’ll know you’re not trying to run a game on us.”

With a still tight reign on your hair, he threw you to the bed face down, ass up while discarding his own clothes. A harsh spank thwacked on your ass as he gripped the reddening flesh right after.

“Damn this ass is gonna be the death of me. Ain't that right, Touya?”

“Sure is; it's all she's good for.”

Neither of them really meant those nasty things they spewed at you, but it just felt too good at the moment to pass up seeing you cry. The sooner you learn that submission is the way to their hearts, the easier you'll have it. Sure, you were a whore, but you were their whore.

“Hope this pussy’s ready for a pounding cause Daddy is coming in.” He chuckled, groaning as he sank his length into your tight, unprepared vice. Whimpering and squirming beneath him, you attempted to grip the bare mattress for purchase as you felt the sting and stretch of his cock thrusting inside you. The pain wasn't terrible, but it was still there. You wiggled your hips, hoping to get some friction before another spank was administered.

“I haven't heard any begging yet.”

“P-Please fuck me, Keigo.”

“That’s not what I’m looking for, sweetheart.”

Oh? Oh.

“Please let me be your girlfriend! Please, I need to be yours; I need you!”

A slew of curses flew out of him as he pinned your hips down, thrusting deep and slow inside you. The pace was agonizingly slow as you tried to move your hips.

“Please, please, please!” you babbled. “Keigo, Touya. Let me be your girlfriend; let me be your obedient whore. I need to be yours!”

Humiliation hardly fazed you anymore as you let yourself, babbling and crying out begs and pleas for your two bullies.

Keigo happily increased his thrusts, pounding into you as a man possessed. Growls and snarls spat from his mouth as he savored the way your tight pussy fluttered around his painfully hard cock.

“Such a good girl for us, good girl.” The blonde moaned, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of your neck. He lapped at the sweat there, leaving bite marks and blood for you to find later.

Your moans and cries were music to their ears, the most hypnotic melody they had ever heard. Touya stroked himself off in the corner, pleased with your earlier performance and giving his partner space to hit the nail into the coffin.

You, on the other hand, were being fucked out of your mind as Keigo dicked you down good. Good enough to make you forget your worries, your troubles, your life ripping apart at the seams for even just a moment. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled your senses as you felt the pleasure come at you full speed.

“T-Tell me you love me, that you love us.”

“Oh, someone’s feeling bold, birdie.”

Strings of “I love you”s flowed freely from your mouth as you chased your high, wanting to feel pure and utter relief, albeit it is just for a moment.

You came with a cry, spasming on his cock as he came deep inside you. A bright, white sensation filled your senses as you grasped onto your clarity for as long as you, not wanting to come down from your high.

Toned arms rested on either side of you before enveloping you in a warm hug.

“Good job, princess.”

A sweet whisper filled your ears before a kiss was placed on your cheek. Silence fell over the room, save for all of your panting and breathing. In your post-orgasm clarity, you couldn't help but realize something.

Wasn't Touya’s father dean of the school?

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nanastea · 3 years

Text

for the sake of it

order: HI! I absolutely adore your blog and writing, and was hoping to get a small taro milk tea with mango jelly (add-ons egg pudding, this is my favorite irl too btw!) for my sweet boy megumi? And I'd like to request a fake dating au where it initially started out as a prank but it turned into something more? – @dumrus

pairing: fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

word count: 1,732

tags: fake dating au! idiots in love, little angst for a short while but gets a happy ending!

date: apr. 17, 2021

nana’s note: ahhh thank you so much @dumrus for being my first order!! i was so happy when i received this order and got super excited about writing it that i kind of got carried away and wrote a too long of an imagine (*꒦ິ³꒦ີ) and i'm not sure if i got the prank part correctly ヽ( T–T)ノi’m sorry about that! but i do hope you will enjoy this~ constructive feedback is appreciated!

previous order: notes for you

you’ve always been with megumi for as long as you can remember. you two met at jujutsu high when gojo had introduced the young megumi to you. the spikey dark haired boy had no interest in you nor did you in him. you both were young and had no idea what curses or cursed energy was so it was mostly training and training.

but due to the low attendance of students enrolled in the academy, there was only you and megumi so ultimately you guys had to rely on each other. but with the news of new first years coming to the academy, you and megumi hadn’t been expecting to build new relationships. nobara kugisaki and itadori yuuji were the new first years and students that you two had to work with.

they were a handful, especially yuuji who became the vessel of the king of curses, ryomen sukuna. the first few weeks of getting to know the new students, it was quite awkward and naturally you and megumi stuck together. that isn’t unnoticed by kugisaki nor yuuji.

“are you and y/n dating?” yuuji had asked one day. the four of you had been training when the two boys had gone to get drinks from the vending machines. megumi glanced at the pink haired boy as he pressed a button on the machine.

“no.” he simply replied. “are you interested in her?”

“no, no.” the former waved his hands. “i just thought so because you guys are always together.”

“we aren’t dating.” you two had said. on the other hand, kugisaki had asked you the same question.

“hah?” she drew out in disbelief. “there is no way. you guys are always together! you don’t even have a speck of feelings for him?” you pick at the edges of your sweater and shrug. did you even think of megumi that way? well, he may appear cold, but he has his ways of concern. like when he catches you before you fell down those stairs one day, or when he brings you your favorite snacks when you’re not well, or taking care of you when you’re ill…

the next thing you knew, your face had flushed and burned red.

“you do!” kugisaki pointed out and laughed out loud. you could die. you hid your head in the palms of your hands and cringed. this can’t be.

“what’s so funny, kugisaki?” yuuji’s voice says. the voice suddenly made you shoot your head up knowing if the pink haired boy was there, then an all too familiar spikey haired boy would be back too. your eyes effortlessly fall onto megumi’s who looks back in concern.

“you’re red. are you alright?” he asked. if your face could feel any hotter, it could.

“she’s fine! she just overdid training!” kugisaki lied through her teeth whilst attempting to hold back her laughter and patting your back.

“well, you can sit this one out until you feel better.” megumi offers and you nod dumbly. you just dug your own grave. with your feelings now surfaced, you can’t do anything except keep your newfound feelings locked tightly in your heart. megumi doesn’t need to know about them. however, that’s beginning to get difficult when you’ve gotten yourself in situations where megumi was always there to catch you before you fell.

“you’ve really been out of it, y/n. are you sure you’re okay?” he had asked. you had just bumped your head against the wall when you found megumi walking down the opposite side of the hall and you had abruptly turned around to avoid him, but ended up hitting your head on the wall.

“i’m fine.” you shake your head, holding the cool ice pack against your head.

“i don’t think so, you’ve been spacing out a lot lately and i’m worried about you.” the words fall so effortlessly from his lips and you clench your eyes closed, feeling how your heart begins to race erratically.

“i’m fine, megumi. really.” you assured, looking up at him and giving him your best grin. megumi does not believe you, but he lets you be and withdraws back in the chair.

“what about you? how are you holding up on training with kugisaki?” you ask this time to settle your nerves. a small groan leaves the other’s lips and you can’t help but chuckle.

“that bad huh?”

“it’s not that.” megumi starts. “she always tries to find a way to ask if you and i are dating. clearly, we’re not but she’s persistent. it’s worse because itadori is also asking.” your heart clenches a little at his words, but you swallow it down to the pit of your stomach. is it really that bad?

“i mean we can just say that we are dating, but we actually aren’t. like you know, fake dating. kind of?” the boy looks at you with a small tilt of his head.

“why?” you begin to get anxious and clear your throat, looking behind him to prepare what to say next.

“w-well it’s going to get awkward between us if they keep asking, right? i mean they’ll probably stop pestering us?” you reason hopefully. megumi is silent and you’re beginning to regret your offer.

“i-i mean it’s only a thought, it’s not that we have to follow–”

“no. i think that’ll be a good idea. they’ll definitely stop asking.” he nods. “let’s do it.”

“y-yeah.” and when you guys told kugisaki and yuuji that you two were ‘dating,’ they had sighed in relief claiming that they ‘knew it’ and you two were ‘just hiding it.’ you chuckled awkwardly and nodded along.

fortunately, the plan did work and kugisaki and yuuji had stopped bothering you guys about your relationship. on the other hand, you can’t help but notice the tense awkwardness between you and megumi whenever you two were alone together. maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all.

you’re in kugisaki’s room for another of your group to get together to down all kinds of junk food and watch corny horror movies. after getting tired of movies, you’re all on the bed and chatting away–more like kugisaki and yuuji are chatting your ears off. and you’re not sure how the conversation was directed at you and megumi’s relationship. if you even want to call it that.

“what do you mean?” you looked at the orange head skeptically.

“kiss! i meant kiss! have you guys even kissed yet?” the question hangs in the air and you can feel the spiked boy behind you tense, shuffling his legs. you avoid the prying eyes and clear your throat. what the hell were you guys going to respond to that? the silent response makes nobara and itadori’s jaws drop.

“no way!” they both exclaim, gasping and covering their mouths ever so dramatically.

“you guys dated this long and you haven’t even kissed once?” itadori inquired, brows raised in shock. you utter something that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“what was that, y/n?”

“we weren’t even dating in the first place.” silence consumes the room before it erupts into sounds of gasps and an uproar of shouts.

“what?!”

“no way! why did you lie?!” kugisaki voiced offensively.

“you guys were so insistent that we were dating, but we really weren’t. so, we just pretended to date so you guys would stop asking.” you say. kugisaki and yuuji don’t say anything and their eyes glance at megumi who seems to find a strange liking in picking at the edges of his sweatpants. the two glance at each other and settle back onto the bed.

“we didn’t mean to have forced anything on you two.” kugisaki said, gentle and a little guilty because it seemed like the two of you were on the brink of something that she did not want to happen. you weren’t able to respond when you feel megumi shuffle behind you and off the bed.

“i’m tired. i’m just. gonna go sleep.” megumi muttered, hand rubbing his neck and eyes refusing to meet anyone’s. he cleared his throat and shuffled out of the room. the room is silent again. two pairs of eyes fall on your slumped frame and when itadori opens his mouth to say something, he’s cut off with yours.

“i’m tired too. i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” and you, too, leave the room without another word. the following days have been the hardest for you. you were foolishly hooked up on your feelings for the spiky haired boy which caused you to fall countless times while training with kugisaki. she knew what got you so up in the clouds and felt guilty for what she put you two through.

“i think you should try confessing just to get it off your chest.” she told you. “trust me, it’ll be awkward at first, but you guys will forget it later. probably even look back and laugh about it.” you take her words into consideration and nod defeatedly.

“yeah, i guess.” was everything going to go back to normal once you do confess? would you guys really look back and laugh about it as part of your silly adolescent life? a heavy sigh leaves your lips.

“speak of the devil.” she grinned and nodded her head to which you followed and looked behind you. it’s megumi. he has a hand in his pocket and the other is rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes are looking to the side.

“may i speak to you, y/n?”

“o-oh. yeah, sure.” you two leave the area and head to the vending machines where you two get your respective drinks for you and your friends. that is until megumi stands to his full height and faces you, making you look at him confused.

“megumi?” you hear him clear his throat and breath out.

“i, uh, i’ve really thought about it over the time we have been apart, and,” he swallows. “i really like you, y/n. i know it’s still awkward between us because of what happened, but i needed to tell you this.” you’re stunned, shocked at what you heard. you couldn’t even process what he said when he started to doubt his words and begin to take them back.

“n-no!” you abruptly say, shaking your head. you swallow whatever was left of you and say those four words of reciprocation, albeit stumbled over them.

“i like you too, megumi.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs are welcomed! ෆ(´ . .̫ . `)ෆ what can i get for you?

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years

Text

Fabric Hearts

Remember the first part of that build-a-bear au I wrote for @smieska-draws? It’s back! But now the au name makes sense! Imagine!

Luka, known as the Snatcher to most of the mall locals, runs the Kraft-a-Kid while his daughter, Hattie, runs around with her friends. There’s definitely nothing suspicious about Luka. The rumors that he snatches the souls of children and stuffs them into the dolls are completely unfounded. Probably. Most likely. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.

This is, of course, another au that Smieska and I both developed and like to swap ideas for SO send her your love and adulation because I couldn’t have written this without her ;o; <333 Here’s the link to the piece she did for first part if you haven’t seen it yet (which u should because it’s fabulous and incredible). Without further ado, here it is!

Words: 4,131

The door squeaked open as Luka recorded the number of tiny, elastic collars with bright bells in the back.

“Dimitri can’t make it today,” he warned without looking up from his clipboard. His golden gaze flickered up towards the boxes filled with cotton stuffing and he quickly counted them as footsteps approached. “If you get a sudden influx of customers, come grab me.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Hattie’s voice came from right beside him.

“Did I stutter?” He glanced down without missing a beat. She gave him a deadpan stare as he grinned. His sharp canines glinted in the unnaturally bright florescent lights. “Come on, kiddo. How about you help me with my business endeavors instead of frittering away your summer romping around the mall?”

She readjusted the brim of the top hat she made from her millinery lessons at the fabric store. Why his child fixated on hat-making out of everything she could have taken an interest in was beyond him but even he had to admit her royal purple top hat was well crafted.

“I’m going with Belle and the others to get lunch at the food court,” she said, ignoring his jesting. “Can I have money?”

“You know if you had a job you wouldn’t need to be asking me,” he lamented dramatically before wedging the clipboard between his arm and side. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I’m not even twelve.” She blinked up at him with large blue eyes. “There are child labor laws.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, opening his wallet. “Don’t let anyone in the mall convince you otherwise. But,” he slipped out a bill and gave her a pointed look, “if you accept this, you have to do me a favor.”

“I already cleaned the bathrooms last weekend,” she whined.

His grin widened.

“Tough luck, kiddo.” He twisted the bill in the air, watching her nose scrunch as she seriously weighed her options. After a second of letting her think that she was going to have to do her least favorite chore, he extended the bill towards her. “Just bring me back a coffee and I’ll consider us even.”

Relief instantly flooded her features as she took the bill.

“I can do that! Your usual?” She headed towards the door.

“That’ll work,” he said, tucking away his wallet and grabbing the clipboard again.

“Thanks, Dad!” she chirped before moving to open the door.

Just as she reached for it, the door swung open, and she stumbled back. Luka immediately dropped the clipboard and slipped behind her with the speed of shadows dodging the light. She smacked into his legs, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Alex walked in with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid! I didn’t see you there.” Alex winced, looking from Hattie to Luka’s hard glare.

“I’m fine!” Hattie promised, giving a bright smile until she placed her hand over Luka’s fingers. She jolted and twisted around. “Dad, are you okay? You’re really warm.”

“It is hot in here.” Alex tugged at their collar, wincing.

“The thermostat dial was probably nudged,” Luka dismissed, pulling away and stooping to grab the clipboard. “I’ll take a look.”

“Should I get you water?” Hattie asked.

“I have water. Now go have fun.” He shooed her towards the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can run my errand.”

Hattie hesitated but when he returned to his task of recording inventory, he heard her retreating footsteps.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered as they crossed over to the table for the employees. They dropped their backpack before grabbing the light purple apron with their nametag.

“Let’s just be careful with how forcefully we open doors, hm? I don’t want to deal with any workplace liability cases. They’re a pain.” Luka shot the teen a toothy grin. Glancing back down to the clipboard, he added in a more monotone cadence, “Anyway, Dimitri can’t come today, so once Ember leaves, it’ll just be you and me for the rest of the day. If it gets too crowded on the floor and I’m not around, come find me.”

“Right.” They nodded firmly. While wiping back their bangs and smearing the beads of sweat on their brow, they hurried out. Once the door closed behind them and Luka was alone, he let out a sigh.

The flame that had flared when Hattie nearly got hit crackled noisily in his otherwise empty chest. Luka placed one of his pale hands over the flame and counted out the seconds between metered inhales and exhales. The snap and pop of embers faded and when he glanced towards the thermostat, the temperature in the room lowered back to a comfortable range.

Not that he was bothered by the heat, but he didn’t need his employees passing out.

Ember’s shift ended as he got to counting the unstuffed plush shells. As she hung her apron over the hook, she informed him that two separate groups had just entered the store. Luka nodded, finishing his current count before getting ready to help Alex on the floor.

He brushed back his long, spiky hair into a ponytail. Stray strands the color of soot fluttered against his cheek, and he tucked them behind his ear.

They reflected a warm violet when they caught the light.

With his hair as contained as he could manage, he grabbed his own amethyst apron with the Kraft-a-Kid’s signature logo; a stylized baby goat and parent goat waving a friendly greeting. After draping it over his black suit and making sure it didn’t displace his dark purple tie, he tied the apron with nimble fingers, clawed at the tips. He double-checked that the pocket had extra thread and a compact sewing kit before he clipped on his name tag and headed out into the workshop.

Alex snapped their head up from one of the stuffing stations, looking relieved when they spotted Luka rounding the counter. Alex returned their full attention to the small girl and her mother while Luka smiled at the two teens with a younger child hovering by the bins of unstuffed shells by the entrance.

While he didn’t know them personally, he recognized Brooke and her younger sister Hali, who worked (or in Hali’s case just hovered around in the back when not at daycare) at their uncle’s travel agency, and then Makoto, who worked at the jewelry store. Judging from their uniforms, the teens were probably using their breaks to accompany Hali. Since he often heard good things about their work ethic and Hali’s sweet nature from Mari, he assumed he had an easy session ahead. He waved them over.

Brooke and Makoto shared a nervous look while Hali bounded over with a bright smile.

“Why, hello there!” Luka pasted on his most vibrant customer service smile as he lowered onto the seat by the stuffing station. Cotton and soft fibers filled the glass tank decorated to look like hearty trees and branches climbed around the edges. The machine itself matched the lilac walls and brown and bronze gears that decorated them. The bins and shelves that held the merchandise throughout the store were all structured to look like spools of golden thread.

Holding an unstuffed goat with dark brown fuzz and silver horns, Hali shyly smiled up at Luka as Brooke and Makoto slowly joined.

“I see you’ve picked your new friend!” Luka held out his hands and Hali gingerly lowered the flat goat into his palms. “Before we bring them to life, how stuffed do you want them to be?”

“Um?” Hali tilted her head with a blank expression.

“Do you want them to be firm or squishy?” Luka clarified, fitting the goat around the nozzle and getting his foot ready over the pedal.

“Fiwm, pwease!” Hali declared in a cutesy voice.

“Excellent choice!” Luka set to work, pumping the pedal as he filled out the head of the goat plush. The machine roared to life, blowing air and fluff with the force of a vacuum. Though, his ears perked when he caught Brooke and Makoto in an intense discussion as they remained a couple steps back. What he couldn’t hear over the machine, he pieced together easily enough.

He knew the rumors and could guess what was on their mind when they mentioned the Snatcher and stolen souls.

Luka smirked as he pulled his foot from the pedal and the machine hushed.

“Now it’s time for my favorite part.” He beamed, pulling off the firmly stuffed goat and then reaching for a bucket full of small felt hearts. “The soul ceremony! Go ahead and pick the heart that most resonates with you.”

“If it’s just a heart, why is it called a soul ceremony?” Brooke asked, her voice quivering as she pressed closer to Makoto.

Hali, meanwhile, was completely enraptured with picking out the right fabric heart.

“Hearts, souls, same thing, really,” Luka soothed with a toothy grin, giving the teens a considering look.

Makoto’s gaze flickered down to his fangs. She lifted her chin, trying to project an air of confidence. But her furrowed brows wavered.

“Souws awe heawts?” Hali gasped, looking up with awe.

“Absolutely!” Luka kept his voice cheerful, gesturing to the bucket. “It’s what gives your new friend life! I imagine without one, they would feel pretty empty and hollow.” Keeping his chin tilted down, he lifted his eyes towards the teens and lowered his voice just a touch. “Wouldn’t you feel pretty soulless without a heart?”

The two stiffened.

“Pwobabwy!” Hali chirped, completely unaware of their increasing unease. She dug around the hearts and pursed her lips. “How do woo know which heawt is the best?”

“That’s up to you!” Luka bounced effortlessly back into an upbeat cadence. He pinched a heart with a checkerboard pattern in red and white. “The nice thing about these hearts is that they’re blank slates. They’ll be filled with whatever you put into them. But don’t put in too much!” he added with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want your new friend to be more you than you!”

Brooke squeaked in fright and his grin stretched.

“I wiwl take this one, then!” Hali held up a solid red heart.

“Great! Hold on to it, now.” Luka placed the tub back down. “First, why don’t you rub the heart on your hair so your little buddy will always have soft fur!”

Hali beamed at that and rubbed the fabric heart on her hair. When she pulled it back down, some of the blond strands followed the heart while the strands too far away stuck up from the lingering static.

“Well done! Now, rub it against your funny bone so your friend has a sense of humor.” Luka tapped his elbow when Hali crinkled her nose for a moment. Her eyes lit up in understanding and once the heart was granted good humor, Luka added, “and why don’t you strike a superhero pose, so that your pal will hold courage.”

Hali giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and preened.

“Fantastic. Lastly, I want you to rub the heart between your palms!” Luka motioned for her to mimic him as he demonstrated. “Now, when it’s nice and warm, give it a clap to start its heartbeat!”

The clap resounded through the workshop and the teens jolted behind her.

“That should do it,” Luka praised, holding out his palm. Hali handed the heart over, and he slipped it into the goat, tucking it snuggly away in the cotton and fluff.

He then set to filling out the rest of the plush. Once it was stiff and sturdy, he handed it to her, asking if she was content with it. When he received an enthusiastic nod, he took it back and sealed the hole. He snipped the extra thread with the scissors in his apron and then passed the goat back to Hali.

“Here’s your new friend! Be sure to visit our shop in the back! We have plenty of accessories and outfits for the newest member of your family,” Luka recited the same sales pitch as always. “Once you’re ready, head over to an open kiosk so you can fill out the adoption papers. If you need any help, Alex or I will be overjoyed to assist.”

“Thank woo!” Hali hurried over to the accessories, hugging the goat to her chest.

Luka clasped his hands and turned to the teens. When his gaze flickered to the floppy hooded doll in Makoto’s arms, her embrace tightened.

“Ready?” He motioned for her to hand it over so that he could stuff it.

She looked to Brooke, who shrugged with uncertainty. Makoto stepped forward.

Keeping his tone light, he went through the same script as always. He asked if she wanted the doll to be firm or squishy and, in an effort to loosen her up a bit, offered to add any fun sound boxes or scents to the plush. She remained on edge until he asked about the nametag on her uniform as the machine roared to life again. She explained how her boss liked to give everyone themed nicknames and she was saddled with “Makoneko.” When he asked if she appreciated the nickname, she pointedly rolled her eyes as he removed his foot from the machine pedal again. Her shoulders relaxed when he chuckled.

“Your turn to pick a heart,” Luka twittered in an overly cheerful voice as he held out the bucket.

“Do I have to do the ceremony?” Makoto hesitated, plucking the first heart she saw. Rather than scared, her bored expression mirrored that of many teens who wanted to skip the step.

Perfect.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He shrugged casually. “What is a heart without a heartbeat? A soul without a person behind the personality?”

“What?” She faltered, shoulders slowly stiffening again as Brooke’s eyes widened.

“I only mean it’ll be a sorry existence for this little friend.” Luka waved the stubby hands of the purple plush toy. “And you get out what you put in.” Her brows dipped in slight confusion, and he smirked. “You have to at least start its heartbeat. You don’t want to bring a ghost home, do you?”

“Just do the ceremony!” Brooke hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-fine,” Makoto said, slowly lifting the heart to her long black locks. “So, hair for soft fur?”

“Does it look like this one has fur?” Luka gestured to the doll with the yellow spiral in its hood. He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Of course not! No. First, why don’t you rub the heart against your belly so that it’s full of laughter.”

“I thought that was the elbow.” Makoto crinkled her nose. Though she rubbed the heart against her stomach, eager to get it over with.

“There is a difference between telling good jokes and laughing at them, kiddo,” Luka offered with a smirk. “Now, how about you jump up and down a few times? I’m sure your friend would love to share some of your energy.”

“What does that mean?” She jolted.

“Just that exercise keeps the heart healthy,” Luka said placidly.

Her eyes narrowed but she eventually gave a sluggish skip.

“Then, rub it against your ear, so it will always listen.” He smiled brightly, being sure to bare his teeth. Once she complied, he clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you know what to do now! Warm it between your palms and then clap to start the heartbeat!”

She let out the breath that she had been holding, relieved it was finally over. She gave a small clap before passing the heart back. He slipped it into the doll.

“Any names in mind for your friend?” Luka prompted as his foot tapped the pedal.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled curtly, purposefully trying to let the whirling air in the stuffing machine drown out her answer.

“How’s this feel?” he asked a few seconds later when the machine hushed again. He pulled the doll from the nozzle and passed it back to her.

“Good.” She returned it after assessing the squishiness.

“If you haven’t got any names, I always thought these particular dolls looked like minions,” he prattled, closing the seam. When she didn’t respond, he continued lightly, “so Minion might be a good name.” He glanced up to meet her gaze and lowered his tone. “You did make sure it’ll listen. It’ll be an obedient little kiddo.”

Her breath hitched.

“Obedient to who?” she challenged, maintaining a fragile glare.

“All done!” Luka snapped upright after snipping the excess thread, pretending he hadn’t heard her question. “Welcome your friend into the world!”

Makoto accepted the doll, her gaze flickering between it and Luka with uncertainty.

“Same as always,” he droned in his peppy, customer service voice. “Browse to your contentment. My daughter recommends the plush purple cherries. You want to keep your buddy happy and fed! Make sure to finalize the adoption and meet Alex or I by the counter.” He glanced over to find the other young girl with her mother already at the cash register. “Looks like it’ll be Alex!”

Makoto nodded numbly as Brooke stepped forward and looped her arm through hers, rescuing Makoto by tugging her away.

“One more thing,” Luka began, keeping his eyes on his clean-up routine. The teens’ footsteps paused as they hovered. Though his smile laced his voice, his enunciation was sharp. “I’m sure the Snatcher doesn’t have to tell you but be sure to treat your new friend as you would yourself. You put your soul into bringing them to life, after all.”

The teens gasped.

“Have a good day, kids.” Laughter laced his voice.

They rushed away as he chuckled.

While he finished cleaning up, Hattie returned with her friends. As soon as she spotted him behind the stuffing machine, she rushed across the tiles decorated to look vaguely like a forest path.

“Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, holding up the cup.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, pushing to his feet and picking stray fluff from his apron. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he accepted the drink. He held it towards his lips, pausing to quirk a brow at young Muriel and Timmy as they passed the stuffing machines to check out all the colorful outfits. Belle, meanwhile, joined Hattie with her azure bow bouncing in her dark coils.

“We’re going to head to the bookstore.” Hattie shrugged. “Tim’s friend is hosting a card game tournament.”

“Remember to be back by six,” he instructed. “Don’t go snacking after four or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I know, Dad,” she huffed dramatically.

“Also, Mom says hi, Mr. Kingsley,” Belle pipped in.

“Tell Mari I return the sentiment. Now get your friends to stop loitering.” He turned back towards Hattie and rose his voice so Timmy and Mu could hear. “They scare away customers.”

“Says the Snatcher,” Timmy whispered to Mu.

Luka covered his smirk with the coffee cup. His gaze shifted over Hattie and Belle and he watched as Makoto and Brooke fled the store at a brisk pace. Hali struggled to keep up, but she managed to meet his eyes and offered a cheerful wave.

“Fine,” Hattie sighed. “Come on, guys!”

“I need to stop by Mom’s before we head to the bookstore,” Belle mentioned as she and Hattie turned to leave. “I left my cards with my backpack.”

As the girls left, Luka turned to head back towards the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. He immediately winced.

“Ugh, tepid,” he grumbled as Timmy and Mu ran past, hurrying out to follow Hattie and Belle.

After making sure the kids all had their backs turned and Alex was busy with something on the counter, Luka summoned a gentle ember to his hand. While the flame harmlessly licked the cup, the coffee warmed inside until steam wafted from the hole in the lid. He took a tentative sip and swallowed the scalding liquid.

The flames in his chest crackled and popped, and the knots in his shoulders eased.

He snuffed out the ember in his hand as he lowered the cup. Mist trailed from the lid as the coffee maintained its heat.

“I think you scarred those two for life,” Alex muttered as Luka returned to the counter.

“Which two?” he asked, mind still on Hattie and her friends.

“Brooke and Makoto.” Alex glanced up, shaking their head with a scolding expression.

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary,” Luka said calmly. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee during his momentary break. “If those hooligans are letting their imaginations run wild, it’s not on my conscience.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex gave him an unimpressed look. “Also, I think we’re running low on the beach ball accessories.”

“I noticed,” Luka muttered, swirling his cup pensively. “Those aren’t particularly popular, and we are getting near the end of the season…”

While they discussed whether they needed to send out an order or if they would make it until the fall selection came out, Hattie rolled on the balls of her feet as she, Timmy, and Mu waited for Belle to return from her mom’s flower shop just across from Kraft-a-Kid. Hattie idly watched all the mallgoers, thoughts blank, but Timmy and Mu had their eyes locked on Kraft-a-Kid, thoughts whirling noisier than the stuffing machines.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Belle announced as she bounced out with her deck of cards.

“Hattie.” Timmy whirled around. “Your dad’s magic!”

“Timmy, he doesn’t steal souls, we’ve been over this,” Hattie whined, crossing her arms.

“If he doesn’t steal souls, then what’s with his coffee?” Mu snapped, nodding her head towards the display window where Luka could be seen leaning against the counter inside the workshop.

Hattie squinted, trying to figure out what was out of place with the steaming coffee cup. After a moment, she turned to Belle, who shrugged.

“It’s hot!” Mu gestured wildly, causing her blond mustache to bob with her movement. “Look at that steam!”

Hattie blinked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Belle supplied dryly. “Because Hattie ordered it hot.”

“But he said it was tepid!” Timmy argued. “We heard him!”

“He probably thinks it is,” Hattie said, knitting her brows together. “He likes his coffee hot enough to burn his tastebuds.”

“You aren’t getting it!” Mu huffed. “It wasn’t steaming when he said it was cold!”

“Okay, but even if he somehow heated it up, that didn’t have anything to do with stealing souls,” Belle appeased.

“That’s what we mean!” Timmy urged. “If he can use one type of magic, he can use others!”

“I regret the day I told you about those rumors,” Hattie grumbled.

It didn’t matter as much when strangers said it, but instead of laughing with Hattie when she told them that people thought her dad was some kind of heartless, soul-snatching monster, Mu and Timmy had latched onto the conspiracy and ever since refused to let go. She couldn’t talk about new product plushies or designs around them anymore because they would just start a debate about which shell would best hold the souls of children.

“Look can we just get going?” She started walking in the direction of the bookstore and Belle matched her pace. Mu hurried to catch up as Timmy trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on Kraft-a-Kid.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anything weird?” Mu insisted. “Heard any screams of children he caught? Seen any dolls move in the corner of your eye?”

“You know he laughs like a cartoon villain?” Timmy added.

“The store is literally called Kraft-a-Kid!” Mu continued. “Open your eyes, Hattie!”

“Kid is just another word for baby goat!” Belle argued. “It’s cute!”

“We aren’t talking about this anymore!” Hattie snapped, tugging down on the brim of her hat. She turned away from them and focused on Belle. “So, what deck are you using? The one with fairy types? Or your cat themed one?”

“Both!” She grinned mischievously as she happily helped to redirect the conversation. “I combined them because I wanted to use all my favorites. How about you?”

“Going with the forest deck.” Hattie glanced up, where her deck was safely tucked away in the hidden compartment she stitched into the top hat.

Timmy and Mu huffed, letting their argument go as they pipped in with talking about their own decks. But it was only a matter of time before they started back on their theories about her dad’s supposed magic. Trying not to deflate too much, she kept her eyes forward. She swallowed her frustration and focused on the upcoming tournament.

Besides, even if her dad did have magic and only used it for heating up coffee, it hardly seemed something a heartless monster would do.

Right?

#a hat in time #ahit snatcher #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #my writing #build-a-bear au #'im gonna take a break'#*proceeds to post exactly one day after the old posting schedule #im still writing lol just gonna be all over the place for a bit #ALSO FINALLY WROTE THIS #ITS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR FOREVER #ITS JUST REALLY FUNNY TO ME TO IMAGINE SNATCHER RUNNING A BUILD A BEAR PLEEEEEEASE #i have one more short thing for this that addresses the heart-shaped hole in the room and then u might find me #ricocheting around other aus like a pinball #anyway that's all for now #thank you so much for reading as always!!!!!#catch ya later!

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( VELVETEEN RABBIT. )

What do you get when you mix Thumper and Bambi? Answer: Jeon Jungkook.

pairing. french lop bunny!jjk x ragdoll cat f!reader.

genre + rating. hybrid!au set in college. super fluffy, a little angsty, with a dash of smut to balance it all out. explicit towards the end because i just can’t help myself. oops.

tags / warnings. honestly, this jungkook should just come with his own warning. but more realistically, mentions of kook using a scrunchie, kook being cute, kook railing his date after using the world’s worst puns... the usual.

wc. 4.4k

beta reader(s). @hobi-gif as always become, c’mon. i’m me. she’s her.

author note. this was written as part of @thebtswritersclub‘s a hybrid fest and is gloriously late (i’m so sorry @ditttiii). i’ve never written anything hybrid-related before so hopefully you enjoy. feedback goes a long way! xoxo

He orders the same thing every time he’s in. Iced Americano, no room for cream, and a single almond croissant. (Every once in a while, he switches it up for matcha but that’s exceedingly rare.) He always pays with a tap of his wrist - a sleek black AppleWatch with rubber band - and flashes his trademark slightly too-big smile. All the girls swoon. So do the guys. Everyone except for you.

He’s unnervingly handsome, with long dark ears that sometimes hang in front of his eyes. You’ve caught him with them pulled back Lola Bunny-style, knotted with a loose silk scrunchie that looks nearly as soft as his fur. His hair’s usually unkempt, tossed into a little sprout of a bun, overly long fringe falling all over his big round eyes. He wears butterfly clips sometimes, though that’s usually on days where he isn’t freshly sweaty and carrying his gym bag. They appear in his hair when it’s damp from a shower, the smell of papaya and honey clinging to every inch of him. You know, because you have a great nose - one that’s sensitive to every smell under the sun but especially his. (You try not to think about it much.)

It’s a Wednesday morning when you notice the change. It doesn’t register at first, acknowledgement coming in a curious sniff at the air. Weird.

“Thanks,” he says like clockwork, a well-oiled polite machine, deceptively slender hands receiving the exceedingly hot cup without a care in the world. He’s got his usual bag over his shoulder - overly big, black, almost tactical - and a pair of comfortable looking pants on that seem more like they belong on your beloved grandmother. Somehow, he rocks it (but he always does). “Have a nice day.”

Because of course he says that. Of course he steals the words right out of your mouth, turns them back on you as easy as he makes your heart rattle around in your chest like it’s a Friday night bingo ball.

He moves toward the bar - he only ever grabs three napkins, tucks them into the slot on the left side of his bag - but pauses halfway there. Rooted to the same spot as always, sleek ears following the imposing line of his shoulders.

One, two—

The thumping starts, so quiet it’s almost negligible. But you catch it, because you always do and because you’re the reason for it.

He turns then, levels you with a look from the corner of those pretty, pretty eyes and you can’t help but laugh, openly, unashamedly, with the back of your hand plastered to your mouth. A true ojou-sama.

His mouth quirks - does that funny thing where he sucks in his cheek then rolls it back out with his tongue - and you think he might finally say something. Call you out for writing his name wrong for the past five weeks, finding more and more creative ways to do so every time. Even occasionally using nicknames - silly things you’d come up with while on the walk home, or during lunch, or in bed.

“Good one,” he states, laugh lines threading over his face, prominent around his eyes. His nose wiggles with the sound - another of his traits that comes out to play often. Your favourite of them all, if you’re being honest.

“Anytime.”

You don’t realise it’s him until it’s too late, until you’re practically running into him, bouncing off the broad expanse of his back with a startled squeak. Lucky for you, you’re quick on your feet, catching yourself before your skull can become too well-acquainted with the red brick wall to your right.

“You okay?” Though he asks, you have a sneaking suspicion he knows you’re not and an even stronger suspicion that he’d been waiting for you, hovering past the entrance of the cafe with his big university hoodie on.

“Barely,” you manage around a laugh, straightening the backpack slung over your shoulders, packed to the brim with goodies you got to bring home at the end of the night and two of your textbooks.

“Should watch where you’re going.”

This is the most conversation you’ve had - ever. But it’s fun, easy, organic and natural. You wonder why that is.

“You should watch where you’re standing, actually.”

He’s so much bigger than you, imposingly tall (especially being part of the Leporidae family) and wide in the chest. Not bulky by any means, but big. Strong. Threaded with a strength you don’t normally see in hybrids of his kind. It probably has to do with how often you see him covered in sweat and panting, basketball hooked under his arm, soccer cleats tied to his bag.

When he speaks again, it’s full of mirth, squeezing his round eyes near shut. “Got a problem with me standing here?”

You nod, solemn as ever (which is really never, but that’s besides the point). “It’s dangerous to block entryways, didn’t you know?” You’re gesturing to the awning, the dark interior just past the window of the shop. “You’re loitering, Jungkook.”

“So you do know my name.” You can tell he’s not surprised - that he’s hamming it up for dramatics, softly pink lips rounded in a little ‘O’. He’s cute like this, you think. Playful in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I do?”

There’s that cheek thing again. It’s even more attractive up close, the shape of his jaw thrown into prominent relief when he sucks in a breath.

“You just said it.”

You nod, thoughtful, finger tapping upon your chin. “I guess I did.”

“Say it again,” he states, expression inscrutable, eyes bright. They’re so glossy even under the dimmed streetlights, impossibly big and undeniable. So easy to get lost in - if your attention weren’t caught by something else.

“What is that?”

You’d noticed it earlier in the day, caught the scent in passing sometime during the early hours. You’d been unable to place it then, too distracted by freshly ground coffee, a girl’s three too many spritzes of Daisy by Marc Jacobs, and baking banana loaves.

It’s heady, masculine. A strong musk that sinks into your nose and makes it twitch, ears rotating as if that’ll help pin the smell down.

“What’s what?” You hadn’t realised how close you’d become, your face five seconds from planting directly into his chest. (It’d probably be nice - you know how soft your school’s merchandise is.) “Are you okay?” He asks because you’re now, actually, planting your face right against the worn navy cotton. It’s terribly nice, silk upon your cheek.

You answer more to his clothes than to him, nosing into the fabric. “You smell different.”

You feel more than hear his laughter, the sound barreling past his teeth seconds later. The vibrations running along his spine jostle you from your position face first upon him but you don’t mind. It doesn’t send you far, dark eyes peering up into the face of the bunny hybrid. True to his kind, his nose is twitching, puffs of laughter expanding his cheeks when he meets your stare.

“No I don’t.”

“You do.” Tone firm, a finger lands upon the neatly embroidered N on his hoodie. The white stitching stands in stark contrast to your baby blue nails. “You smell… off.”

Whether Jungkook’s offended or not, you can’t tell. He’s got that same strange expression on his face - the one from this morning when he’d received his coffee. It’s made up of too many moving parts: the flutter of his lashes, the coil of his jaw, the minute tick of the corner of his mouth. You can’t read him for shit, somehow more confused now than in your 300-level art history class. (You’d taken it as one of your optional electives assuming it’d be an easy A. You were wrong.)

“Sorry you think so,” he hums, looking down at you. You’ve seemed to fully forget the meaning of personal space, edged up beside him as if you’re best friends and not just two ships passing in the night.

“It’s not bad.” Really, it isn’t. It’s strong and sensual, vegetal in a way, calming in another. But it isn’t unwelcome.

In fact, you think you might like this scent a little more - less sweet than what normally clings to his skin, natural honeycomb rather than processed sugar. It zings across your teeth, pieces broken up and scattered behind your molars. You can practically taste it. Him.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

You share a look - one that says more than all the words you’ve ever spoken, that threads together all the silly laughter, narrowed stares, (written) flirtations. It settles between the two of you, filling the spaces with something akin to cotton, light and airy and soft.

The desire to speak lingers, hidden just beyond the cotton candy dusting. Should you? Shouldn’t you? You still have no idea what he’s doing here, a street urchin making his rounds on the campus village.

He beats you to it. “Can I walk you back to your dorm?”

You don’t think you could want anything more. “Sure.”

Silence falls again but it’s comfortable, a caress rather than a crutch. The grounds are surprisingly quiet - wayward students on their way to the library or heading home from lectures. There are no picnic blankets spread across the grass, no gaggles of girls dressed in school colours. It feels like the first day of fall, change sitting heavy in the air.

“So—” You start.

He finishes, “do you wanna go on a date with me?”

That’s surprising. (Or is it? You’re not really sure.) You nearly trip over your own two feet in your haste to look at him, entire body swivelling on the spot because apparently you can’t just turn your head like a normal person. Something something all or nothing.

“What?”

“Do. You. Want. To—” He’s being insufferable for the hell of it. You can see it in his eyes, glossy things shining down at you like he’s got the entire fucking nightsky hung in them.

“Not if you keep that up,” you retort, though you both know you’re lying. You’ve been waiting - wishing, wanting - for this moment since the day you laid eyes on him. Since Yuri had elbowed you so hard in the ribs you’d thought you’d be bruised for days, since Jae had rambled on and on for his entire shift about the cute new bunny who’d come in that morning. Since that very first wrongly spelt name on his plastic cup and every visit since.

“Is that a challenge?”

“You won’t get it in.”

He scoffs, loud and drawn out, cheek rounding with disbelief at your disbelief. How can you possibly doubt him - school basketball star and all-around athletic freak of nature?

“What do I get if I do?” The ball rests in his palm, poised to be shot through the hoop, sunk without making contact with the rim. He’s confident - he’s done it a million times.

“A pat on the back?” As much as you tease him - loop mockery around nearly every syllable you speak, you’re endlessly supportive, already carrying the fruits of his labour under your arms. A Pikachu shoved haphazardly into the purse slung across your body, a Snorlax tucked under your arm at an awkward angle that crushes his poor head, a Sylveon tucked into the side pocket of his joggers. (The arcade was really into Pokemon, apparently.) “Me saying thank you?”

“Not good enough.” He leans in close - those big galaxy eyes practically swallowing you whole - and taps a single finger upon your nose. It makes your nostrils flare, an itch blooming under his touch. “Gotta sweeten the deal.”

You must look hilarious because Jungkook’s biting back a smile, smirking down at you. Then, all at once, without breaking eye contact, he’s extending his arm, flicking his wrist, and— swish!

In goes the ball, leaving him with a perfect score.

“I want you to stay the night.”

You think he’s joking. He must be joking. This is your third date.

But he’s staring at you like he’s completely serious, gaze expectant, lips pursed around something that reads like a smile but has your heart doing a strange little one-two step in your chest. It soars for a moment, high above the clouds like the string orchestra of a choral work - Beethoven’s Ninth in D minor.

“Are you propositioning me, Jeon Jungkook?” It’s the same reaction he always has when you say his name: a twitch of his ear, the corner of his bottom lip quirking and then resetting, eyes so sparkly it’s almost absurd.

“No. I’m just telling you what I want.”

“Huh.” You should say no. Guys like him - with charm that oozes out of every pore, whose offhanded smiles break more hearts than you ever have - are almost always bad news. Too sweet, too funny, simply too much for your feeble heart to take.

“Is that a yes?” He’s got you in his clutches - a viper rather than a hare, with a smile so dangerous you’re paralysed by just the sight of it. (Who needs venom?)

Your words catch in your throat, stick to one another like the deformed gummies at the bottom of the movie theatre bag. What comes out isn’t what you expect. “Okay.”

Damn you. Damn him. Damn how good he smells and the big dumb grin that spreads over his lips, sunshine in human form, undeniable and warm and cute enough to start a war over. (That’s probably what’s happening - a vicious battle between your head and your heart.)

Damn his stupid thumping foot that you can make out over the sound of the video games, the boisterous din. It’s so cute you can’t help yourself from smiling, mouth pulling and pursing around the delight that begs to be freed.

“Cool,” he says, and you almost think that’s not very cool. He’s so nonchalant, cavalier about it as if it means nothing. You’d be bothered if you felt like you didn’t know him so well - hadn’t learnt his idiosyncrasies over the last two months.

How he looks when he laughs really hard, his slightly too-big front teeth taking up all the real estate in his mouth. How he sounds when he’s tired (groggy, with a lisp that rarely sees the light of day otherwise) or when he’s told he’s wrong (pouty, with his bottom lip jutted out so cutely you want to scream). How he runs every morning, hits the gym every night, and eats double your protein because fitness, bro! How his cheat meal of choice is soy garlic fried chicken from the place off-campus and he hates tangy, tart desserts (your lemonade lip gloss not included, he insists). How he can’t sleep if he’s too hot - which he often is - and he spends way too long combing through his ears with a specialty brush he doesn’t let anyone touch. How he’s secretly raindrops and gummy bears and hand holding in the car, so much more than his high school superlative of most likely to grace the cover of GQ.

You wonder, because you know those things, does that make you special? Does it make you immune to the heartbreak that you swear you imagine whenever your mood drops (not often, but often enough)?

You hope so.

“Let’s go shoot guns?” He’s tearing you from your reverie, planting an open-mouthed kiss to your temple. It’s sloppy and not very refined, much less suave than what you’d expect from your school’s soccer captain (and basketball small forward and swim team stand-in). You suppose that’s why you like him so much - because he’s always surprising you, keeping you on your toes.

“Let’s.” You agree, letting your date drag you toward the Time Crisis machine. It’s blissfully unoccupied, allowing the two of you to slide into place. He takes the blue gun, you the red.

He squeezes your hip when you take up position, one eye squeezed shut as you look down the barrel of the plastic weapon. “Better not let me die.”

“Better not get shot,” you return.

He doesn’t listen - failing halfway through the helicopter scene, his shot missing and resulting in some sad miserable death in the form of Continue? blinking across the screen. Neither of you mind that much though. He occupies himself on his phone, free hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. You play better when he’s not shouting terrible call-outs, nearly crashing into you because he gets so into it.

(How he’s never got a concussion on the basketball/soccer/etc. field before, you’re not sure.)

By the time you’re done - a good five minutes later, you think - Jungkook’s growing restless, tugging at your belt loops enough that you stumble with every shot, nearly knocking yourself out when you have to steady yourself on the centre console.

“Kook!” Your glare is barely that, too affectionate to dissuade him from his childish antics.

He pulls you forward, traps you between his thick thighs, tattooed hands settling comfortably on your hips. “Let’s go home.”

“Someone’s in a hurry.”

Of course, he doesn’t deny that.

It’s not the first time you’ve been over. Not even your second or third. You’ve met up with him before his games, thrown his jersey overtop and helped him wrap his fingers before hitting the court. You’d even had to grab his cleats for him once, running across campus as he did drills in his socks as punishment.

This time feels different. You know why but it doesn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. It lodges somewhere in your throat, makes it hard to breathe when you kick off your shoes and tuck them neatly beside Jungkook’s.

“Are you hungry?” He’s already in the small kitchen, glancing over his shoulder at you as you linger in the adjoining hallway, bag halfway over your head.

“I’m good.” You are, really. You’d eaten one donut too many at the arcade, indulged in a little too much disgusting nacho cheese goodness. You don’t really understand how your date’s still hungry, a cucumber crunching between his teeth when he turns back to you.

Standing there, vegetable devoured in quick, decisive bites, he looks every inch the French lop bunny he is.

You reach him in the same instant he finishes his midnight snack. Arms fold around you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, head dropping to rest comfortably upon yours. Like this, his ears tickle your cheek - velveteen fur lost to the silk of your hair. “Are you tired?”

Another no comes - spoken into the fuzzy fabric of his sweater - and he hums above you, whole frame rattling with the noise.

“No bed then?”

At least he’s transparent, you think.

“One track mind much?” You’re only teasing. A part of you looks forward to… whatever it is that sits over the horizon, lost past the creaky bedroom door and somewhere beneath his surprisingly soft sheets. (You’d asked about them once - he’d told you his mother liked to send him housewares to remind him of home. He was a real mama’s boy that way.)

The monster only laughs, snuggles into your hair like it’s home. “Can you blame me?”

You can’t do much of anything when he’s like this - so utterly adorable and enticing and good for your heart that it feels as if you’ve taken a straight dose of morphine.

“Let’s go to bed, Wookie.” Another nickname, recently coined after you’d spent an evening watching Star Wars for the first time.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You whack him on the way to his bedroom, smack a hand over the arm curled around your shoulders. He pretends like it hurts, howls in a way he he thinks resembles a wounded animal but really just sounds stupid. “Not a ma’am.”

“Sir?” He asks, just to make you laugh.

“If you don’t shut up—”

He pushes you through the door of his bedroom while giggling to himself, sound puffing out of his cheeks. “Don’t be mad, kitten.” The two of you drop to the bed, a tangle of limbs and silken fur and squeaking laughter. “You’re so purr-ty when you’re annoyed.”

He’s doing it again. Dropping those stupid cat puns that make your nose wrinkle, ink-tipped ears folding back against your head.

“I think I’m hiss-terical, don’t you?”

Face adamantly buried into his sheets, you don’t give him the time of day. You don’t even care that your mascara is probably rubbing off against the charcoal fabric, lipstick tint doing potentially irreversible damage. He knows how unfunny you find these jokes, how you’ve heard them your whole life and roll your eyes so hard your optic nerve might sever every time you face another.

What’s the point of sharing your pet peeves with him when all he does is lean into them? Use them against you like it’s the cool thing to do. Make you wonder what you’d seen in him when he was just another customer, another boy in Seoul National indigo and bedhead so dishevelled it begged to be managed.

(You’re not sure why you’re so irritated suddenly, caught in the clutches of a moodswing as you curl into your side and ignore his bad jokes.)

Stupid Jeon Jungkook. Annoying, silly, too-cool-for-his-own-good Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook who makes you second guess your choices, leaves you breathless and confused with just one dumb look. Who has convinced you into his bed and teases you mercilessly, snickering to himself as his foot bounces against the floorboards because he finds himself that funny.

“Baby?” The pet name comes, presses itself past your curtain of hair and invades your thoughts.

You say nothing, adamantly faced away.

He doesn’t like that, sneaking his hands around you and cradling you into his chest as if that’ll lighten the mood. (It does, a little bit, but you don’t tell him that.) “Don’t ignore me,” he mumbles, warmth breath tickling your ears, fingers dancing over the rungs of your ribs as if they’re ivory and not bone, playing a tune only he can hear.

“Stop with the shitty jokes,” you retort. You’re being difficult - can feel the vinegar turning your blood even as he tries to will it all away.

You feel the intake, the rise and fall of his broad chest. You can only imagine how hard he’s biting his tongue, careful to keep his next errant pun at bay. People don’t tell him no - only you. Maybe that’s why you do it, to remind him you’re not just like everyone else.

“Sorry.”

You don’t tell him to show you how sorry— but he does anyway.

You’re astounded by him, utterly entranced by the way he moves. How power runs the length of his frame, manoeuvres each of his limbs and turns your own to jelly.

He’s got you face down, ass up, hands cradling your hips like they’re his home and he can’t bear to let go. Every upward stroke feels like heaven - feels like a million lifetimes of pleasure you can barely wrap your thoughts around. He’s impossibly big, thick and long. The first thought you’d had when he’d stripped his black Calvin Kleins was pretty.

You realise now there’s nothing pretty about him. He’s filthy - the devil come to collect as he fucks you across his bed, nearly loses you to the pillows at the head with each snap of his hips. (What they said about rabbits was true, you think.)

“B-Bunny,” you sob, scratch over cotton that’s worn soft and smells exactly like your favourite sweater of his. The linens are defenseless, tangled up and wrinkled with each flex of your fingers, bunched up within your palms every time he buries himself like he’s looking for the answer to life, thinks he might find it within the fluttering walls of your pussy.

“Not my name.” When he sounds like this, he’s more predator than prey, a thousand volts of electricity shooting up your spine. He’s demanding and unrelenting. It makes your head spin.

“Wook—”

“Not.” Bunny teeth are just as painful as a feline’s, doing their job as they dig into the flushed skin over your back, marking his territory with two prominent indents right between your neck and shoulder. “A.” He ruts into you as if he’s got something to prove, snaps his hips to a beat you can’t keep up with. “Wookie.” Grips you so tight you might snap, red blooming beneath his hands.

You sob under him, drool against the pillows because you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut. (You feel like Jungkook post-win, spewing nonsense as he prattles on about game winning plays with his teammates.)

“K-Kookie.” It’s what he wants to hear - hits him right in the chest, a bull’s eye to the thing that beats wildly and in tandem with your own.

His rhythm stutters. The bed is shaking and not because he’s practically breaking the weak wooden frame. No, his foot’s thumping, bouncing across the sheets even as he tries to regulate the roll of his hips, return it to the assured, teeth-numbingly good tempo it’d been at.

It doesn’t work. You love it anyway. Like it more, because it means he’s just as affected by you as you are him. Your heart sings, leaps out of your chest on hummingbird wings, and dances around your head. You’re a goddamn cartoon - Pepé Le Pew in ragdoll form - animated pink shapes circling like a crown.

You don’t care. You can’t. Not when he plasters himself to your back and asks you to say it again, begs you to tell him how good he is, tells you how he wants to make you his.

Who cares if it’s three dates in, if your meeting was cliched and silly and he’s the campus heartthrob?

You don’t - because he’s yours and when he flips you onto your back and you curl your fingers into his hair, it’s your name he stutters out. It’s you who has him coming apart beneath your hands, the feel of his ears like velvet, the little whines he huffs growing louder each time you tug at the base. It’s you who knows what he sounds like as he falls to pieces, throws himself against you as if gravity demands it. It’s you who holds him to sleep, whose skin acts as a canvas for the doodles he traces as he drifts off.

It’s you and it’s him and that’s enough.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

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winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

a kindness.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it is loving megan kane hours!! i’ve been working on this one for a while and i am so excited to share it with you!! we have ajf!pleasure is my business at last! as always, tell me what you think!! i adore your feedback. also, if you’re thinking ‘what the hell, tali! why am i missing from the tag list?????’ it’s because i redid it! the link to the form is below.

words: 4.8k warnings: language, canon-typical death, canon-typical discussion of sex work

summary: “i believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” ― steve martin. au!february 2009

a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You rap twice on the office door before pushing it open with your fingertips, peering inside while ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

There’s no need. Aaron’s alone.

“You’re here early,” he says, his eyes still on his paperwork.

You snort. “So are you.”

He looks at you over his nose. “Can I help you with something?”

Sitting down opposite him at his desk, you prop your chin on your hands and grin at him. “You stole my line.”

“Get out of my office.”

Your smile stays plastered on your face as you stand and cross the room, closing the door behind you. On your way out, you catch the ghost of his smile.

+++

You watch Hotch leave the bullpen, his go-bag slung over his shoulder.

“Where you headed?” You ask, looking up. You’re still the only one in the bullpen, taking a few consults off your teammates’ hands by typing up quick briefs they can review without going through every single comma in the file.

He sighs. “Dallas.”

Yikes.

“By yourself?”

He sighs. “Standby - not sure what’s going on yet. Can you -” He gestures to the hallway behind you.

You nod and stand. “Yeah. Fly safe.”

After you watch him leave, you turn and make a beeline for JJ’s office. She’s here early, too - pushing away the separation anxiety by diving into work.

“Jayje?”

She looks away from her computer, looking exhausted. “Yeah?”

“Hotch just left for Dallas - we might have a case there, but it didn’t sound like something that would come across your desk.”

She squints. “Why d’you say that?”

“He had that look on his face like he was going into a room full of lawyers.”

+++

You lean forward, jamming yourself into the circle around the table with the rest of your team. Hotch, on the other end of the line, sounds oddly well-rested.

Spencer, as usual, gives you the history and textbook briefing before you get to the actual case. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies.”

“Because there’s no sexual gratification when a woman kills,” Derek adds.

Looks like we’re all getting in on the pre-brief today.

“Exactly. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra.”

That makes you laugh a little. “So, basically, women are more efficient at killing?”

Spencer shrugs. “Historically, they’ve had body counts in the hundreds.”

Hotch, of course, is the one to get you all back on track. “So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?”

Derek, of course, is the first to follow. “Money, drugs, post-traumatic stress disorder…”

The team bounces for a moment, covering previous cases of serial killers with a history of sex work. Emily brings up Allison Wuornos, but Aaron shuts it down. He thinks this killer is organized, not so much driven by trauma or need but the mission itself.

Spencer looks at the medical examiner’s reports again, comparing notes between the victims. “She’s using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine.”

You don’t look up from the same report. “Bless you.”

Emily snorts.

Spencer continues, unperturbed. “It’s a popular rat poison in China - easily soluble in alcohol.”

“Poison is the perfect M.O.,” Dave notes. “Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they’re getting lucky.” He turns back toward the phone. “Does that mean something to you?”

“Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex.”

Fair point.

“She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly.”

You look over at Dave, trying to find the thread that connects Aaron’s thought to his.

Before you can really get to it yourself, Aaron spells it out for you. “She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them.”

There we go.

“So she's not just organized,” you add. “She's also methodical. Could she be parsing out which clients are worth killing and which aren’t?”

“Maybe the victims all share the same fetish?” Emily offers.

Derek shrugs, his eyebrows raised in thoughtful agreement. “Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible. Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it.”

“And we're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out.”

There’s the exhaustion I’m used to from Hotch.

He sounds weird without it.

“Actually,” JJ says, “I had some luck there. Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died. But because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement.”

JJ pulls the statement from her file and reads aloud: “Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.” She puts it down again. “They're already trying to close ranks.”

Spencer frowns. “Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“The press release from the first victim.” He recalls, not needing the paper itself. “‘According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home.’”

Hotch begins to make assignments, directing Emily and Derek to the wife of the second victim. JJ’s tasked with the lawyers and you’re tasked with setup at the precinct with Spencer and Dave. When he’s done, you pick your phone up from the table, taking him off speaker.

“What are you gonna do?” You ask.

Hotch snorts. “I’m gonna see which of the lawyers calls us back and in the meantime, see what I can get out of anyone else.”

“Good luck.”

+++

You’re up in your hotel room, getting a little bit settled and unpacked when you get a call to your cell.

“Hey, Hotch.”

There’s a sigh. “We got another body.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.”

+++

You hop out of the car, following Aaron through the service entrance and up the back hallways to the lobby. Between your travel from your room and Aaron’s wrap-up in his, Derek and Dave beat you to the scene.

Hotch is wearing that coat - your favorite, the one he’s apparently had for years - with the red lining and the soft wool exterior. It so rarely sees the field anymore you were afraid he’d done away with it, but every time you remember it exists and worry about its whereabouts, he brings it out again.

Derek hands you a notebook when you reach him. You settle near Dave for the rest of the info. He, of course, delivers.

“Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here.”

You frown. “Poisoned? Like the others?”

“And staged,” Derek says. “She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found.”

“The lipstick's new,” you muse, circling the body in the elevator. “Done postmortem, it looks like.” You find Derek’s eyes with a little frown. “Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable.”

He hums. “Now she wants to be noticed.”

There’s some kind of scuffle at the police line - another man in a suit who thinks he’s more important than God.

Hopefully he’s looking for Hotch.

“Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?”

Ugh. Good.

You step back and point at Aaron, getting out of his way as he shoves past the crime scene techs.

Aaron turns. “I'm Hotchner.”

“Larry Bartlett.” The man holds out his hand, but Aaron doesn’t take it. He retracts his hand with an unperturbed tilt of his head. “I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries.

Hotch, as usual, has no time for his bullshit. “This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett.”

My lawyer could kick your lawyer’s ass.

That’s a good bumper sticker.

You shake off your thought and return to the victim, directing one of the younger crime scene techs. After a moment, you return to Derek’s side.

“Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels.” This clown still sounds far too confident for his own good. “She said you're a very... reasonable man.”

“Escort him out, please.”

You stifle a laugh.

“No, wait. Please.” The lawyer - Mr. Bartlett - shrugs off the security team and chases after Hotch on his way to your side.

Aaron stops, but looks inconvenienced in the extreme.

“The press is outside and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?”

“We're not about to lie for you.” Derek’s even less amused than Aaron, if that’s even possible.

Aaron squints at the other lawyer, and you find it nearly impossible to tear your gaze from the little pinch at the corners of his brown eyes.

You can only imagine him behind a prosecutor’s bench, laying into witnesses with the same deadpan amusement - like a bored cat with a half-dead mouse. Hoping to back him up a little bit, you get a little closer, looking skeptically at the lawyer from over Aaron’s shoulder.

“You don't have to lie,” Mr. Bartlett insists, his eyes flickering to you. “Just don't comment.”

“Excuse us.” He takes you by the shoulder and leads the three of you into a huddle.

“Is there any reason to go public yet?” Aaron asks.

Dave wavers. “Validating her is exactly what she wants.”

“If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake,” Derek says.

You raise your eyebrows, looking over your shoulder for a moment. “He doesn't need to know that.”

Hotch’s mouth twitches, and you know it’s almost a smile. He turns over his shoulder, back in game mode as he approaches Bartlett again. “We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything.”

+++

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats.” Spencer rattles off the numbers with only the barest hint of shock in his voice.

Your brow pinches and you look up. “Can you even boat in Dallas?”

“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Em,” you laugh.

She rolls her eyes, still pinning photos to the board. “Yeah, right. My mom had a pretty cushy gig with her postings, but we were never that well-off. But...” She looks over her shoulder, “I’m sure Rossi would know a little something about that.”

Before you can all get too out of control, Hotch reaches over you to connect to Garcia on the speakerphone. “Are you there, Garcia?”

“Affirmative.”

JJ flags him down. “I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave...”

It really takes everything in you not to laugh.

“...and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is… wrong.”

Emily pulls a face.

“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah,” Aaron replies. “His ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups for the first two, but he did everything he could to cut them off anyway.”

You lean forward, trying to see the paper in his hands. “Are there children involved?”

“Yes, with three of the wives.” He hands it over to you and looks at Emily. “Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?”

She nods in the affirmative.

“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick.”

Tell me about it, Pen.

Emily sounds resigned. “What did you find?”

Garcia outlines a series of bitter court battles about child support, alimony, custody, etc. “And even when the court ruled in the wife’s favor - which was almost always - these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay.”

Hotch asks for a cross-checked list of high-profile Dallas CEOs holding out on their ex-wives, and you figure it’s not a short one.

“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out.”

The line goes dead and Aaron turns off the speaker.

“So,” Aaron leans heavily on the table. “Why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?”

Spencer obliges. “For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him.”

“They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold.” JJ shakes her head and looks over at Hotch, seeking an answer.

“Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.”

There’s an odd kind of look that passes over Aaron’s face as he speaks, and you pin it for later. You can already tell he’s falling into a headspace that’s fraught with comparison and self-loathing.

They bounce around for a moment while you keep your eyes on Aaron.

“Well,” JJ brings you back. “Should I assemble the police for a profile?”

Your mouth twists. “I just don't think it's gonna help.”

“She lives in a completely different world than they do,” Aaron adds.

“And,” Emily pipes up, “the CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it.”

JJ snorts. “Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them.”

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Aaron stands straight, his hands resting on his hips. “They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman.”

“Why would they go for that?” You ask.

“Because she's putting them at risk, too.”

Your phone rings and you answer as you always do, chirping your last name into the receiver without really looking too closely at the caller ID.

“Hey, it’s me.”

You nod once to your team as you step out of earshot. “Hey, Haley.”

“I can’t get a hold of Aaron. Is everything alright?” She’s beyond surprise or concern at this point. You’re sure you could tell her Aaron’s been shot in the head and she’d probably just hum at you.

“Yeah,” you say with a sigh. “Things are crazy and there are lawyers all wrapped up in this. Are you alright?”

“Jack’s got a fever - I just wanted to let Aaron know I’m taking him in to get checked out. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know. Give Jack a big kiss from me and I’ll do my best to get us all home quickly and in one piece.”

She laughs a little into the phone. “Thanks. Will do. Talk soon.”

You hang up and return to the table, shooting Hotch a significant look. He nods and pulls you aside.

“What’s up?”

“Jack has a fever - Haley just wanted me to let you know she’s taking him to the pediatrician to get him all checked out, just in case. I told her we’d all do our best to get home soon.”

Aaron sighs and flips his phone in his hand. “I’ll call her now…”

“No need. She knows this is a tough one and you’re getting your money’s worth out of your JD this week.”

When he starts to walk away, you call his name again. He turns.

“You know - um.” You wet your lips and swallow. “You’re not like these guys. You know that, right? You’re a great dad.”

His face lifts in surprise for a fraction of a second before he recovers.

“Thank you,” He says. “Really.”

You offer him a crooked smile. “Anytime.”

+++

Hotch stops you all before you enter the conference room, full to the brim with suits and pantsuits. “Let me lead on this one. I’ve handled corporate lawyers like this before and they can smell blood.” He snorts. “This time, it’s their own.”

You and Derek raise your hands in simultaneous and identical postures of surrender.

“Have at it,” you say, falling into line behind Aaron. “Corporate lawyers scare the fuck out of me.”

+++

“Hey, Prentiss. Got a whip?” Derek holds the leather outfit to Emily’s shoulders and she laughs.

“Yeah, right.”

You fondly roll your eyes at them and continue following off Aaron’s right shoulder. The two of you reach the bookshelf - an impressive glass case that runs from the floor to the ceiling.

Aaron’s gloved finger opens the case and runs over some of the spines. “Antique first editions on the bookshelves.”

Rossi quips something about porn in the DVD player while Spencer espouses about the merits of a disposable, adaptable lifestyle in this line of work.

“Well, these aren't just for show,” Aaron says. “The spines are cracked. Somebody's read these.”

You peer over his shoulder. “Who reads Voltaire in French?”

“Someone with good taste. Probably well-educated…”

You pick up where he trails off. “We profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?”

“You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?”

You shrug. “It’s a possibility, at least.”

Just then, the apartment phone rings.

“Prentiss should answer,” Aaron says. “If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them.”

You hum, hedging your bets a little. ‘Unless she's calling in for her messages.”

Too late. Derek’s already on the phone with Penelope. “Yeah, Baby Girl, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?”

“I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few. I'm gonna stay on the line.”

Aaron gives her the go-ahead. “Prentiss, get ready to vamp.”

The voicemail picks it up before Emily can so much as reach for the phone.

“Hi, it's me. You know what to do.” Beep.

“...Aaron.”

You turn your head so fast you throw your neck out. You raise a hand to the crick and work it with your fingers. Aaron’s too busy frowning at the phone to notice.

“I know you're up there. Pick up… Aaron Hotchner... Hello?” She drags out her words, almost flirting with everyone listening.

With a sigh, Aaron pushes past the rest of you, silently counts to three, and picks up the phone while Emily clicks the speakerphone button.

“I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, But I don't know yours. Can we start there?”

Nice start.

The game has begun.

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron.”

What?

The pinch between his brows deepens. “Who says you can't?”

“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”

Yes.

“No.” Aaron wets his lips and begins to pace, the gears whirring in his head. “It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.”

The woman continues as if he hasn’t said anything at all. “And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube...”

She has good taste. That’s an excellent presentation.

“...And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.”

“But I've disappointed you, haven't I?” He asks. “Just like all the other men in your life Who've walked out on their families, Who deserve to be punished.”

“Did you walk out on your family?”

His eyes flicker to you and you nod, nearly imperceptibly, reminding him he’s not alone. “No. My wife left me.”

“Do you have kids?”

“I have a son.”

A sweet, thoughtful, perfect son.

You smile a little, thinking of Jack, but it disappears when you remember that he’s home sick with Haley, probably having a miserable time.

“How often do you see him?” She asks.

“I try to see him every week.”

“Do you see him every week?” The question is mocking, smothered in dark amusement that could almost be called sarcasm save for its bitterness.

“No,” Aaron’s eyes fall to the floor. “No, I don't get there as often as I want.”

“I believe you.” Her response is softer, and you think she might make a decent profiler if she wasn’t on the other side.

She is a profiler.

In some ways, you suppose it’s true. She has to read and respond to everything her clients do, say, how they behave. It makes her good at her job and you good at yours.

Same skillset, very different application.

“But don't compare yourself to the men I see,” she continues. “You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.”

Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear someone call Aaron Hotchner a whore. Unironically.

That catches everyone’s attention, even Derek’s, still on hold with Penelope.

“How am I a whore?” He asks.

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars.”

Derek, behind you, presses. “Garcia.”

You can hear her, faintly. “I'm in on the landline. Triangulating the cell. Give me like sixty seconds.”

You gesture to Aaron when he looks. Keep going.

He nods. “But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?”

She sighs, sounding a little impatient for the first time. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way.”

“No, Aaron.” You almost startle, her tone escalating to a deeply frustrated shout. “You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket.”

She’s crying now, actively. “You just want me to disappear, just like they do.”

“Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you.”

Now that’s a tone you recognize - you’ve heard it when he talks to Haley. Most recently, when he couldn’t make it to some appointment or another. It’s one that’s disarming in the extreme, soft, but not condescending.

“You've been betrayed so many times, You don't know who to trust, And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Am I right?”

Just like Haley always does, the woman loses steam, sniffling once before answering. “Yeah.”

“Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.”

“If we met under different circumstances... I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up.”

A gunshot rings through the line and you flinch, turning to Derek just as the line goes dead. You know Penelope will have something for you soon.

She never fails, directing you to an address only moments after the elevator doors close in front of the team.

+++

Once you found Megan Kane, it was easy enough to find her father.

You could empathize with her mission well enough after meeting him. He’s shrouded by his lawyers - detached and seemingly indifferent to anything Aaron had to say.

Aaron starts the car and you settle back into the seat. “So, the wall of lawyers strikes again.”

A shadow of a smile ghosts around the creases at the corners of his eyes. “So it seems.”

“What’s next?”

“We tail him - home and office. He’ll meet with her soon enough.”

Your brow furrows. “Not to protect her, right? It doesn’t seem like he cares that much.”

Aaron turns, placing his hand on the back of your seat as he pulls out of the parking spot. You’re momentarily distracted as he turns back, spinning the wheel with the heel of his hand and gunning it out of the garage.

Focus.

“No,” he says. “Think about it.”

It comes to you only seconds later. “To protect himself.”

“There you go.” He turns to you, another little smile threatening. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been here over a year, Hotch. I’d fucking hope so.”

You’re rewarded with a real smile, and it’s enough.

+++

You take Derek’s six through the hotel, clearing the floors and reporting back to the rest of the team. SWAT is in full deployment, clearing the hard-to-reach areas like the stairways and rooftops, just in case.

Aaron catches up to you, taking the four o’clock position off your left shoulder as Derek breaches the door.

The gun and chilled champagne sit like ironic centerpieces on the entry table, but they hardly use any of your bandwidth as you clear the room, your vision narrowed by the sight of your service weapon.

You hold a hand up when you catch the figure on the balcony. “Hotch.”

He squints, and you move to raise your gun again and make the arrest, but he stops you with a hand over yours. “Easy.”

There’s a question in your eyes.

He, of course, answers it. “She knows it’s over.”

Just then, she places an empty champagne glass on the table where you can see it.

“I’ll call 911,” Derek says, stepping out and closing the door behind him.

You turn to leave with Derek, but catch Aaron’s open hand, subtly signaling you from just under his hip.

Stay here. It says. Stay close.

So, you stay. You lean on the far wall of the hotel room, watching Aaron hold the hand of this dying, hurting woman. They’re speaking softly, and she smiles at him when she drops something into his hand. His eyes are soft, gentle, not even searching. Just warm.

You feel for her.

It’s the best way to go, you think. If there was ever a time you were dying before your time, you’d want Aaron there, holding your hand, telling you he was going to continue the work that killed you, that it was gonna be okay.

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” You hear her ask.

As much as you love Haley, the same question often floats through your head, and your heart aches for this woman who’s been able to see Aaron so clearly, even if she’s only seeing him for the first time now.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t let me down.”

You creep forward, further into Aaron’s eyeline, and sit on the edge of the couch. She’s close to her last breath and you can feel it - so can Aaron. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to her.

Megan’s voice is full of tears when she asks, “Will you stay with me?”

You have a feeling it isn’t the first time she’s asked the question and you find yourself hoping Emily will be particularly rough with the handcuffs when she apprehends Mr. Kane. Hopefully he didn’t make it past the checkpoint and is still on-site.

“Yes.” Aaron is solemn, so sincere, so genuine it makes your heart ache.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You’re not even sure he realizes it, but he’s doing her a great kindness - one that many would not offer.

It’s because he is good.

A good man.

The tension drains out of her, and she grips tightly to Aaron’s hand as she fights through her final breaths. His hands are gentle, his attention only on her. He looks more like a father in this moment than any other time you’ve known him. She’s safe. She knows she can die in peace.

Once more, you hope you have the opportunity to leave this plane of reality in such safety, when your time comes.

When she’s gone, he places her hand in her lap and takes a moment to brush the hair off of her face, pressing the back of his fingers to her temple as if checking her for fever.

After a minute or so, he turns to you, and you hope the pride and respect coursing through you is evident in your gaze. You pull an evidence bag out of your pocket, but he shakes his head, pocketing the SIM card.

You rise as he gets closer, returning the evidence bag to your pocket. He’s clearly affected, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes.

Opening your arms to him, he wilts into you, allowing you to gather him into your shoulder. His arms are loose around your waist, his fingers wrapped around his opposite wrist as an anchor. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and you’d hate to make him feel anything less than safe.

You still have a minute or so before they all come stomping through the door to collect Megan’s body.

“I’m sorry, Hotch.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know why this one hurts.”

Your arms tighten around him. “It’s okay. I feel it, too.”

A deep, shaky breath rolls through him.

“She’s right, you know.” You almost regret your words, afraid you’re giving yourself away.

“What?”

“You didn’t let her down. You’re a good man.”

His jaw tightens, and you can feel it against your neck where his head falls into your shoulder.

“Oh, stop. You’ve never let me down.” Your hand reaches up, stroking the back of his head, carding your fingers through the hair. “She died knowing you kept your promise.”

+++

You look up to Aaron’s office when news of the leak breaks, finding his silhouette haunting the window, staring at the television.

A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and he turns back to his desk, settling back down to work.

+++

tagging: @aaronhotchnerr @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @kerrswriting @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @reids-mismatchedsocks @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @venusbarnes @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile.

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please."

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile.

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone."

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think?

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous.

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing.

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else.

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow.

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you.

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please."

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood.

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby.

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler.

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face.

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long."

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks."

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect.

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her.

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore.

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match.

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring.

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence.

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd.

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now."

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture.

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up.

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away.

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium.

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things.

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult.

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong.

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened.

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction.

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her.

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together.

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk.

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that.

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it."

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this.

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare.

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork.

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by.

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers.

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how.

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking.

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over.

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with."

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan.

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin."

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower.

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall.

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose.

"Very much so, yes."

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then."

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug.

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm.

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets.

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused.

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year.

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile.

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row.

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible.

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time.

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance --

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off.

And, of course, you can't forget the actors.

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes.

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back.

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are.

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened.

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look.

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat.

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her."

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago.

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow.

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times.

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion.

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again.

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all.

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together.

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know.

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing.

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff."

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course."

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare."

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief.

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss.

"What about Jeong?"

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night."

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to.

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers.

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?"

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer."

"I can totally see that."

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips.

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much."

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing."

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that.

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself.

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more.

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever."

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time.

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit.

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours.

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it.

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again.

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager.

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle.

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you."

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds.

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on.

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that."

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me."

"Aww, don't be like that, baby."

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens.

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again.

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement.

"Good, because there's more where that came from."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."

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